The Games We Play

One game at a time was right. The Pens went into the following night's playoff game with a new found hope, understanding they could still win the series and that all was not lost yet. They ended up winning with a final score of 4 to 1.

The next morning's practice proved to be one of the hardest James' had the entire season, and he kicked his own ass for the purpose of getting his mind right. Following his grueling time on the ice, he entered the locker room with the others and completely covered in sweat. It poured from his hairline down his face, his pale skin flushed red and hot to the touch.

Looking around, James saw a team that was dejected but hopeful, and Sid was trying the hardest of them all to be the latter. His brow was pinched, his brown eyes focused, and his mouth tense...all signs that Sidney Crosby was worried. James didn't like the look of it.

A group of them decided to go out for lunch, hoping to lighten the mood a little by hitting up one of their go-to restaurants for a little nourishment. The conversation varied from practice, to personal life, to James' get-together with the guys on Saturday while Ali was out for her bachelorette party.

"So we're meeting at 4, right?" Beau asked, taking a bite of his club sandwich.

James nodded. "And bring your singing voices."

Sid laughed...his first of the day. "Are you really having us do this?"

"Come on, Crosby. We all know you can sing in a capella when you're hammered." James pointed a french fry at him and grinned. "Don't even try to argue."

Beau elbowed him. "Don't worry, I got your back. I'll sing louder so you are drowned out."

"Hey you just wait" Sid answered to both of them, "I'll be able to pull this off better than all of you combined."

"So what you're saying is: you want a solo?" James chomped on a fry, his eyes alive with glee. "Because we can give you a solo."

“Pass. Sid no sing. He sound like drowned cat” Geno chirped. Sid merely readjusted his black hat and rubbed the back of his neck. The upturned corner of his mouth gave away the fact that he was enjoying the banter.

James surveyed the atmosphere amongst the guys as they continued on at a comfortable pace with their lunch. Beneath the surface, it seemed they were holding it together fine enough, but James was struggling…maybe most of all. While he enjoyed time with the guys in a more relaxed setting, he really just wanted to go home and be with Ali. They were heading to the location where their reception would be held, and he was anxious to see it.

When lunch was finished and James was able to finally head back to the house, he felt some pressure lift from his shoulders. From the intensity of the past few games, parts of his body hurt where he never hurt before. But the hurt he felt now was an impending doom that he was scared shitless of. If they won the game tomorrow night, they’d have to win the next three to win. If they lost, it was over. The odds didn’t look good.

Tossing his keys on the counter, James found Ali in the living room asleep on the couch. She was still dressed in her work clothes and lying on her side, her knees bunched up against her chest.

“Hey sleepy” he said, kneeling beside her. “I can see your butt.”

Ali smiled sleepily, but her eyes remained closed. “Is it nice?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to touch it?”

James bit his bottom lip. “….yes….” He watched as Ali’s long lashes parted to reveal the deep brown color of her eyes.

“Pervert.”

He laughed. “Shut up, I’ve had a long day. I could use a nice ass.”

Ali lifted her butt towards him and he slapped it, which only caused her to wrap her arms around James and drag him onto the couch with her. They never truly fit together on James’ couch, but it gave her an excuse to lay on him.

“Dare I ask how practice went?” Ali lazily traced the screened Penguins logo on the front of his gray t-shirt.

“It was fine” he lied. “But I’d rather focus on you.”

Ali nodded, because she more than understood. They didn’t need to discuss it, and certainly not if it would cause James more distress. Instead, she rewarded him with a smile and a pat on the chest.

“Well here’s something for you” she said. “Before my little unexpected nap, I got the call that we can head over to the banquet room anytime we like. So it’s up to you, babe.”

“Let’s go now.”

“Now!?”

James nodded as if he wasn’t even phased by her amount of susprise. “Sure, why not? Wear that, too.” He poked her in the thigh, still covered by the navy blue pencil skirt of her uniform.

“Yeah right!” She pushed off him and stood. “Give me ten minutes, okay?”

With that, she hurried upstairs to change out of her work uniform and into something more comfortable and appropriate for the warm weather outside. James stayed on the couch, still smelling the faint scent of Ali’s perfume near his neck where she’d had her head. She was all the distraction he could ever want or ever need.

*

When Ali came downstairs, they looked quite the pair: James in his gray Penguins shirt and dark jeans, Ali in a sky blue sun dress and sandals. It was warm enough the past few days that the city was now beginning to feel hot and no longer just warm. Pittsburgh itself was alive and in bloom everywhere you looked, and numerous ferry rides and recreational kayakers could be seen on any of the three rivers as you drove by.

This was the scene that would eventually become the backdrop to James and Ali’s wedding, since it would be outdoors and overlooking the city itself. They opted to remain in Pittsburgh to hold the wedding, as it was the link that bound both their transplanted lives.

The reception would be held in the grand hall of one of the finest ballrooms in Pittsburgh, but would be a number of miles away from the actual wedding location. This is where James and Ali found themselves thirty minutes after leaving the house together, their hands remaining clasped the entire ride.

“I’d recognize that face anywhere.”

James extended his hand to the ballroom director, Greg, who was nothing but smiles as they shook hands. “James Neal. Nice to meet you.”

Greg stood somewhat in awe, but remained as professional as possible. “Great season, James. Really. My wife and I are pulling for you guys tomorrow night.”

“I appreciate that” he replied, eyes momentarily shifting to the floor. When he met Ali’s gaze and saw the sparkle in her eyes, he felt better. “Greg, this is my fiancé, Allison.”

Ali and Greg shook hands and James felt prouder than ever; more proud than having Greg recognize him for his affiliation with the Penguins. He watched Ali clasp her hands together eagerly as Greg led them into the giant room.

When she glanced back at him, James saw the look that made him fall in love with her in the first place: her eyes were alive and her face was animated, her wide smile dancing between her level excitement and her need to be professional while they were given the tour of the room.

“And 600 guests will fit in here?” Ali asked, looking around with wide eyes.

Greg slipped his hands into his pockets, amplifying his confident stance. “You bet. Maximum capacity is 800, so even if a few others sneak in, we’ll be able to handle the overflow.”

Ali smiled politely back, trying to take it all in. She felt James’ hand slide to her lower back, which made her feel a little better.

“Even if half of those are 6 foot-something hockey players?”

Greg laughed and reassured Ali the number of guests, tables, decorations, food, wedding party, everything – it would all fit.

Ali let out a little puff of air, feeling content. When she glanced up at James, his eyes were scanning the area around them, his hand still on firmly on her back. She snaked her arm around his waist, grabbing not only solid, lean muscle, but his attention.

“Whaddya think, babe?” she whispered.

James squeezed her close. “I think we’re going to get to see Geno get hammered right there…” He nodded his head towards the center of what would be the dancefloor.

Ali smirked. “Right beside me.”

James’ eyebrows lifted. “Oh really?” He laughed when Ali whole heartedly agreed and didn’t bother to back down.

Greg stood watching as the couple whispered to one another, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “How about this guys…”

Both Ali and James turned their heads towards him.

“…how about I let you two linger here as long as you want?” Greg opened his arms. “Take as long as you’d like, discuss whatever you need to. I’ll just be in my front office if you have any questions, okay?”

The couple nodded. “Thanks, Greg.” James shook his hand and Ali did the same.

When they were alone and the large wooden doors shut with a hollow thud, the room seemed to grow in size around them.

“So can you see it?” James turned to Ali and placed both hands on her waist.

Ali looked around, nodding. “I think I can.” Her eyes went back to his and she felt his hands squeeze her waist. “Can you?”

“Definitely.” He smiled at her, his eyes trailing down the dark hair that fell in gentle waves about her shoulders. The ends fell to the small amount of cleavage that was visible, and James gladly took the opportunity to steal a look. It made him think, for the first time in a long time, how Ali might look in her wedding dress.

He chuckled very softly, still surprised he was even getting married.

“What is it?” Ali cocked her head to the side, trying to contain a laugh as well because of how James looked at that moment.

“We’re getting married, Ali.” James looked her in those big expressive eyes and brought her closer. “Us. Together. Married.”

She giggled. “Yeah, babe – that’s why we’re here!”

“Doesn’t it….freak you out, a little?”

Ali thought about the question and how loaded it was, but she couldn’t deny it. It did freak her out. She was marrying the bad boy of the Pittsburgh Penguins; the bad boy who was really good of heart and sweet when he wanted to be; the bad boy who never picked up his clothes from the floor and drank too much milk with his cereal.

“It does, doesn’t it?” James asked. He felt his heart beating hard against his chest. “That’s normal, right?”

“So many questions” Ali said with a nervous laugh. “But yeah, I’m freaked out…but in a good way….and I think it’s definitely normal.”

Their eyes met and they both looked at one another with a small amount of fear. James’ fear, however, treaded a fine line between becoming a husband and potentially getting knocked out of the playoffs.

His gaze faltered just enough for Ali to notice. She lifted a hand to his face. “You okay, James?”

Her voice was full of concern, which only made James want to hug her and hold her and never let her go…right there in the middle of the empty ballroom.

“No.”

Ali hesitated to say anything. “Does that mean…”

“I’m scared, Ali.”

“About what…” The words came out, but Ali didn’t want to know the answer; she wasn’t sure why she was even asking.

James shrugged a shoulder and stared at the floor. “Growing up?” The corner of his mouth lifted in jest. “Or whatever this is.”

“We’re doing it together, though.” Ali searched his troubled gaze. “That counts for something, right?”

“It counts more than you know.” James dipped his head and kissed her, then leaned his head against hers. “Just bear with me, okay? This is a huge room and I’m not sure I have enough friends to fill it.”

Ali let a tiny laugh escape. “Such a heaven burden to bear.”

James looked past her at the open room around them. He could see his parents, his brothers and Rebecca, his childhood friends and his NHL buddies, his old coaches and trainers and friends…all of them there, around them. Most of all, he could clearly see his bride in his arms, right there in the middle of the room.

“I have an idea.” James stepped back from Ali a few paces, taking one of her hands in his. “Dance with me.”

Ali laughed. “What!?”

James yanked her close so that her chest was pressed against his. “Dance with me. Right here.” His eyes were focused but his gaze was tender, and when he looked at Ali he smiled. “The next time we dance here, we’ll have the same last name.”

The same last name. Her heart jumped into her throat at the thought. Looking at James then, in his t-shirt and jeans, his messy hair and his winning smile, she could almost envision him there in front of her in his tuxedo.

“Well then lead me in our first dance, Mr. Neal.”

James lifted her hand in his, the other on her back to keep her close. Slowly, he and Ali swayed together to music that no one heard except maybe them. The music was James’ nervous heartbeat that Ali could hear as she rested her head on his chest. For James, the music was the satisfied sigh that Ali made as she relaxed in his arms.

“…I wanna be the wind that fills your sail…”

Ali lifted her head and looked at James. He was smiling, his eyes dreamy and far off.

“…Be the hand that lifts your veil…”

“What is that?” Ali questioned, somewhat surprised that James was singing. His voice was soft so that only she could hear, yet it was a song she didn’t recognize.

“…be the moon that moves your tide. The sun coming up, in your eeeyyyeess…” As he sang this, he nuzzled his nose against Ali’s, causing her to giggle. “It’s just a song.”

“Just a song, huh.”

The look in her eyes told James she knew better. “It’s a country song—“

“—No wonder I didn’t recognize it” Ali teased.

“Anyways…” James kept his tone sassy as he grinned at her. “It’s a country song by Keith Urban. Ring a bell?”

Ali shook her head, swaying slowly in his arms.

“I always liked it, but never really had a reason to…I don’t know…play it or think of anyone when I heard it, so…” He felt himself losing it as he surrendered over to embarrassment in liking a love song.

When he caught the look in Ali’s eyes, he tilted his head. “What’s that look for?”

“No look. I just love that you have a favorite.” She rested her head against his chest again. “Will you sing me more?”

James held Ali close, trying to think back to where he left off. As he started reciting the next few lines, Ali closed her eyes and listened to the deep rumble of his voice in his chest and the relaxed grip he had on her hand as he led her in a slow dance.

The last slow dance they would have before they shared one name.

* * *

The next night, at the Consol Energy Center, the Pittsburgh Penguins played their last game of the season.

Ali watched from the suite with the other Pens family members. Her eyes clouded as she realized the hard truth as the second intermission ended and the third period began, and the Penguins fell to the Maple Leafs to a disappointing score of 4-2. The Maple Leafs advanced to the final round in a win that no one in the league saw coming, most of all, the Pittsburgh Penguins.

When the horn sounded and the graphic on the jumbotron went black, a hushed silence fell over the crowd. Only the sound of the Maple Leafs celebrating could be heard. Ali stood at the railing, looking down at the somber faces in black jerseys that skated in disbelief back to the locker rooms.

The team would raise their sticks to the fans, thanking them for their support. There would be dejected interviews and angry eyes and bent brows, but Ali chose not to watch or see any of it. She needed to hold on until she at least got to the bathroom or a hallway or a stairwell…anything…she had to hold on.

She bit her lip the whole way to the bathroom, which was occupied and the door was locked. Inhaling hard, she held her breath and the burning liquid that was dying to be set free from her eyes, but she wouldn’t let anyone see her.

Escaping into the nearest stairwell, Ali let it all out in a burst of tears and shaken cries. The sound of her gentle sobbing echoed against the gray walls and metal stairs that surrounded her; the hollow sound mimicking the hollow feeling in her heart.

Oh James, I’m so sorry….

With the sleeve of her jersey, Ali wiped at her eyes, staining the white cuff with what little mascara she wore.

…Sid, I’m sorry…

Another shaky inhale. More tears soaking her cheeks.

…Poor James…why couldn’t they have just gotten to the finals? WHY?...

Ali covered her mouth with the soggy cuff to stifle her crying. Sure, she was disappointed her city’s team didn’t advance, but she felt for the guys on the team. She loved them, all of them, and she knew how hard they worked. She knew how hard James worked, day in and out, dealing with the pressures that came with the playoffs and how far he’d come in just one season.

…I’m so sorry, babe…

All she could do was apologize in her mind as she wiped the nonstop river of tears that flowed whether she tried to control it or not. They just came and came, never ending, because she so desperately wanted this for James, because he so desperately deserved it. They all did.

Ali couldn’t go down to the locker rooms. She knew it was selfish, but she couldn’t meet James there because she didn’t want to look the other men on the team in their eyes. It would only break her heart further.

Instead, she went out to the car and waited for James. She knew he’d find her there…they’d ridden together, holding hands and hoping for the best. Instead, it was all over. Another season in the books without the Stanley Cup.

When James got in the car, he silently fell into Ali’s arms as he reached across the middle consol for her. They stayed locked in a hug, both with tears in their eyes, until James finally let go.

“Let’s go home, babe.”

Ali nodded, wiping her eyes. Putting the car in reverse, she drove her and James home…neither speaking the entire way.

*

James couldn’t look at Ali. Even as they reached the house, he was ashamed of what just happened. It could have been so perfect....

He went up the stairs into the bedroom and shut the door. He didn’t slam it; he didn’t have the energy to. He simply shut it behind him, wishing he could lock out everything around him forever.

*

Ali stood downstairs in the hall, staring up at the second floor as James closed the bedroom door behind him.

This year was different from last year. Ali remembered the night the Pens were knocked out of the playoffs, because James had gone home and called her. He sounded upset, but he pretended not to be. His voice had been shaken up, but he played it off so cool.

This year, he was holding nothing back, and Ali didn’t know what to do.

As she stood downstairs in her jersey, she realized she had no experience in this area. Ali didn’t share a house with James last year, so he could do whatever he needed to in order to deal with the loss and do it in private. Ali hadn’t seen that part of the loss last year. All she saw was a guy that was dealing with it on the outside, but their relationship had been too new to go any deeper than that.

Slowly, Ali climbed the stairs to the second floor. She entered the bedroom, not so much scared as she was concerned.

Of all things, James was on his phone. He looked up, his eyes full and sad. “I’m going home tomorrow.”

Ali nodded. “Okay.”

* * *

Notes

This chapter hurt in many, many ways just WRITING it! From sweet and sentimental James to sad James. Gah. Sad James makes me sad. :(

~ Also: if you don't know the song, "Your Everything" by Keith Urban, I highly suggest listening to it on Youtube or some other outlet, as it could be the perfect song for Ali and James. ~