She's Not Afraid
One
"He's looking at you!"
My eyes shift behind me, the Pittsburgh Penguins were crowded in a VIP booth after just winning their game tonight.
"Holy shit. James Neal is staring you down."
I down the last of my drink before returning his gaze. How can someone that handsome wear a shirt as hideous as that one?
"Not a chance." I yelled above the DJ. Clubs were never my thing, I never understood how people could socialize in a place like this. You can barely hear yourself speak. My empty cup was calling for a refill.
"Another crown and coke, please." My arms rest on the bar tabletop. It took me 5 minutes to reach my table, crawling in and out of people became robotic. If this was an olympic sport, I'd be the medal winner.
"You have a note. Some dude brought it over." Jessie slips me a folded napkin, inside was chicken scratch, almost illegible.
Hey, I'm James. It read.
Celeste. I roll my eyes.
A man in black grabs my note, winking in the process. Kunitz.
"He's smiling again. God, he's so hot!"
"You seem more into him, why aren't you the one exchanging notes?" My drink was half empty yet again and I felt myself sink into a heavy buzz.
"James Neal has his eyes on Celeste. Not Jessie." Kuni came back, this time with two napkins and an even bigger smile.
Celeste. A beautiful name for a gorgeous girl. Read the first napkin.
How about another Crown and Coke? Right then a hostess brought me another drink, in a bigger glass. She waits for me to fill out the backside of this 5th-grade note exchange.
That was smooth, just like this free drink. Oh and tell Kuni if he comes back over here, I expect a high-five for scoring that penalty tonight. C.
Jessie studies James the moment the hostess hands him the note. I sneak in a view only to see James all smiles as he's scribbling as if his life depended on it. Well, more like if his sex life depended on it.
"This is getting good!" Jessie squeals, always high energy that one.
Kunitz returned as predicted but only this time, he was waiting for me. I gazed up at his freshly shaven face and smile at him. "High five?" He asks. When Chris Kunitz asks you for a high-five, you oblige. I mean, he's totally adorable.
Before he hands me the note, he takes the seat next to me, watching as I write.
"You're good at this." He laughs. "He's struggling to keep his game on point."
How about we ditch this place, Celeste.
"That's the problem."
James Neal, the Penguin without moves. Who would have thunk it. That drink went down pretty quickly though....C.
I hand the napkin to Kuni who slides it in his front pocket. My next drink was random but well thought out on his part. Sex on the beach.
While opting out on the fruity cocktail I was able to steal a napkin from the booth next to us. We walk past the VIP section, James eyeing me as I walk towards him. I smirk at him as I drop the folded napkin on his lap.
Nice try. C. It read.
***
Days had passed since that night. It became a viral joke amongst my friends, the fact I turned James Neal into mush. Six thirty a.m. was way too early for a calculus class, so like the rebellious senior I am, I skipped. When you're in college you can get away with that stuff.
"He's still benched. Maybe we'll see him in a box next game." Jessie was my best friend growing up, both of us living blocks away from each other. We also both grew up 40 minutes north of Denver, Colorado and made a pledge to go the same University. Lucky for us, we both got accepted to our #1 pick, University of Pittsburgh.
"Who are we talking about?" My latte was my saving grace in the mornings.
"Neal. You know he's injured."
"So we're still talking about him? I'd rather talk about Miley Cyrus twerking than hear another thing about James Neal." My phone vibrated, a new voicemail.
Unknown Number.
Delete.
"Don't pretend like you don't care. You're the biggest hockey fan I know, you should be eating this all up!"
"I also know how hockey players are. Players."
That was enough for Jess to change the subject. We stopped at the gym not too far from the CONSOL. It was packed as usual, the meatheads wake early and stay all day. I head to the back where I pick up my schedule - two new clients.
"The word is getting out Celeste, business is picking up!" Matt, the gym owner stands behind me. He eyes Jessie as she blushes uncontrollably. She's crushed on him ever since I landed a job here. "Everybody wants a massage nowadays and you're the go-to-gal."
I major in Athletic Training at U-Pitt and I regularly take classes on massage. I figured it was a decent way to get me through college, if Phoebe Buffay from 'F.R.I.E.N.D.S' can do it, so can I.
"Any word on my new clients? There's no names written on the appointment cards."
"Some middle-aged lady and some guy. He has an sports injury and was transferred here after his last masseuse left his trainer's facility." I file the cards into my log book, locking it in my desk drawer.
"I guess I'll be back at 2 for mystery man." Matt nods his head.
***
I arrive at work, 10 minutes before my new client shows up. I get the table set up and get the paperwork organized. Do I want to be a masseuse my whole life? No. I actually hate giving people massages. The feeling of oil and another person's dirty skin, just grosses me out. But it's easy money and I have yet to start my externship anywhere. Saving that one for my last semester.
My office phone rings, distracting me from my tasks. I put it on speaker.
"New client is here."
"Okay. Send 'em in."
Seconds later a knock on my door.
"Come in!" I yell, eyes still glued at the paperwork.
"You must be my new client. I'm --"
"Celeste. Wow, wasn't expecting this." I look up after being so rudely interrupted to see a tall man in front of me wearing a ratty old Penguins hoodie, black gym shorts and a backwards Pirates hat which settled on top of dark brown hair.
"James Neal. What are the odds." I say surprised. No wonder there was no information on the card. "Are you stalking me?"
He laughs, looking almost as surprised as I am. "Not exactly. I tried calling but I couldn't get a hold of you." That would explain the unknown number. "I also had no idea you're name was Celeste. My trainer gave me your number and told me to call. Plus, I heard you have the best hands in town." He smiled smugly.
If I could count on two hands how many guys said that to me, I'd be a millionaire.
"Of course you did. Well, take a seat. We have lots of paperwork to do before we get to the consultation."
"Consultation?" He asks.
"I do more than massage. For athletes like you, I do a sports massage which will greatly enhance your performance. In your case, it will help you get back on the ice quicker." I hand him the documents, his eyes gazing over the words.
"I don't need to enhance my performance." He looks at me, winking with a cheeky grin on his face. "However, anything that'll get me back on the ice, I'm down for."
He signed his name on the dotted line and mine followed below his.
"How old are you?" He asks as I'm filing his info in the computer.
"22. I turn 23 in December."
"I see you go to Pitt. Senior? I like smart girls." He walks around my desk looking at my certification for massage which is hanging on the wall behind me. I try to ignore his last comment. "So, you must like hockey."
I swivel my chair towards him.
"What makes you say that?" I challenge.
"This." James lifts up my Toronto Maple Leafs coffee mug. "Toronto, eh? Interesting." This coming from an Ontario guy.
"Whitby isn't far from Toronto, you should know that." I flash him a smile.
"Seems our encounter a couple days ago brought you some curiosity." He leans agains the corner of my desk, his hand bracing his weight on the corner.
"I'm a Leafs fan but I'm also a Pens fan. It's hardly about curiosity but sheer knowledge."
"Touché. So when do I get to experience your magic touch?" I stand up, inches shorter than him. I never realized how tall he was against my 5'7" frame.
"Not until our next appointment. For now, I just need to take a few measurements, ask a few questions and that's it." He nods and I proceed. Fifteen minutes later, I have every ounce of information one could have on someone. I know the exact measurements of James Neal's musculature. Well, except one part.
"Just in case you were wondering. It's between 6-9 inches. Depending on the girl but for you, well, we'd have to experiment." He laughs.
"Not gonna happen." I retort, making him even more confident.
James puts his hoodie back on which revealed just the tiniest bit of his lower torso. "I'm off until Wednesday and I doubt you'll be playing then so we can schedule for Thursday." I log him in my appointment book. "This is only for emergencies." I hand him a blue card. "My cell number is ONLY used for emergencies like a strained muscle or severe pain. That doesn't mean texting or calling me to talk to go out. I'm not interested."
He laughs again as he places the card in his wallet. "Yes ma'am." He says sarcastically. "I can't promise that I won't at least try to text or call you. But just so you know...." James walks closer to me, his face inches from mine.
"I am interested."
My eyes shift behind me, the Pittsburgh Penguins were crowded in a VIP booth after just winning their game tonight.
"Holy shit. James Neal is staring you down."
I down the last of my drink before returning his gaze. How can someone that handsome wear a shirt as hideous as that one?
"Not a chance." I yelled above the DJ. Clubs were never my thing, I never understood how people could socialize in a place like this. You can barely hear yourself speak. My empty cup was calling for a refill.
"Another crown and coke, please." My arms rest on the bar tabletop. It took me 5 minutes to reach my table, crawling in and out of people became robotic. If this was an olympic sport, I'd be the medal winner.
"You have a note. Some dude brought it over." Jessie slips me a folded napkin, inside was chicken scratch, almost illegible.
Hey, I'm James. It read.
Celeste. I roll my eyes.
A man in black grabs my note, winking in the process. Kunitz.
"He's smiling again. God, he's so hot!"
"You seem more into him, why aren't you the one exchanging notes?" My drink was half empty yet again and I felt myself sink into a heavy buzz.
"James Neal has his eyes on Celeste. Not Jessie." Kuni came back, this time with two napkins and an even bigger smile.
Celeste. A beautiful name for a gorgeous girl. Read the first napkin.
How about another Crown and Coke? Right then a hostess brought me another drink, in a bigger glass. She waits for me to fill out the backside of this 5th-grade note exchange.
That was smooth, just like this free drink. Oh and tell Kuni if he comes back over here, I expect a high-five for scoring that penalty tonight. C.
Jessie studies James the moment the hostess hands him the note. I sneak in a view only to see James all smiles as he's scribbling as if his life depended on it. Well, more like if his sex life depended on it.
"This is getting good!" Jessie squeals, always high energy that one.
Kunitz returned as predicted but only this time, he was waiting for me. I gazed up at his freshly shaven face and smile at him. "High five?" He asks. When Chris Kunitz asks you for a high-five, you oblige. I mean, he's totally adorable.
Before he hands me the note, he takes the seat next to me, watching as I write.
"You're good at this." He laughs. "He's struggling to keep his game on point."
How about we ditch this place, Celeste.
"That's the problem."
James Neal, the Penguin without moves. Who would have thunk it. That drink went down pretty quickly though....C.
I hand the napkin to Kuni who slides it in his front pocket. My next drink was random but well thought out on his part. Sex on the beach.
While opting out on the fruity cocktail I was able to steal a napkin from the booth next to us. We walk past the VIP section, James eyeing me as I walk towards him. I smirk at him as I drop the folded napkin on his lap.
Nice try. C. It read.
***
Days had passed since that night. It became a viral joke amongst my friends, the fact I turned James Neal into mush. Six thirty a.m. was way too early for a calculus class, so like the rebellious senior I am, I skipped. When you're in college you can get away with that stuff.
"He's still benched. Maybe we'll see him in a box next game." Jessie was my best friend growing up, both of us living blocks away from each other. We also both grew up 40 minutes north of Denver, Colorado and made a pledge to go the same University. Lucky for us, we both got accepted to our #1 pick, University of Pittsburgh.
"Who are we talking about?" My latte was my saving grace in the mornings.
"Neal. You know he's injured."
"So we're still talking about him? I'd rather talk about Miley Cyrus twerking than hear another thing about James Neal." My phone vibrated, a new voicemail.
Unknown Number.
Delete.
"Don't pretend like you don't care. You're the biggest hockey fan I know, you should be eating this all up!"
"I also know how hockey players are. Players."
That was enough for Jess to change the subject. We stopped at the gym not too far from the CONSOL. It was packed as usual, the meatheads wake early and stay all day. I head to the back where I pick up my schedule - two new clients.
"The word is getting out Celeste, business is picking up!" Matt, the gym owner stands behind me. He eyes Jessie as she blushes uncontrollably. She's crushed on him ever since I landed a job here. "Everybody wants a massage nowadays and you're the go-to-gal."
I major in Athletic Training at U-Pitt and I regularly take classes on massage. I figured it was a decent way to get me through college, if Phoebe Buffay from 'F.R.I.E.N.D.S' can do it, so can I.
"Any word on my new clients? There's no names written on the appointment cards."
"Some middle-aged lady and some guy. He has an sports injury and was transferred here after his last masseuse left his trainer's facility." I file the cards into my log book, locking it in my desk drawer.
"I guess I'll be back at 2 for mystery man." Matt nods his head.
***
I arrive at work, 10 minutes before my new client shows up. I get the table set up and get the paperwork organized. Do I want to be a masseuse my whole life? No. I actually hate giving people massages. The feeling of oil and another person's dirty skin, just grosses me out. But it's easy money and I have yet to start my externship anywhere. Saving that one for my last semester.
My office phone rings, distracting me from my tasks. I put it on speaker.
"New client is here."
"Okay. Send 'em in."
Seconds later a knock on my door.
"Come in!" I yell, eyes still glued at the paperwork.
"You must be my new client. I'm --"
"Celeste. Wow, wasn't expecting this." I look up after being so rudely interrupted to see a tall man in front of me wearing a ratty old Penguins hoodie, black gym shorts and a backwards Pirates hat which settled on top of dark brown hair.
"James Neal. What are the odds." I say surprised. No wonder there was no information on the card. "Are you stalking me?"
He laughs, looking almost as surprised as I am. "Not exactly. I tried calling but I couldn't get a hold of you." That would explain the unknown number. "I also had no idea you're name was Celeste. My trainer gave me your number and told me to call. Plus, I heard you have the best hands in town." He smiled smugly.
If I could count on two hands how many guys said that to me, I'd be a millionaire.
"Of course you did. Well, take a seat. We have lots of paperwork to do before we get to the consultation."
"Consultation?" He asks.
"I do more than massage. For athletes like you, I do a sports massage which will greatly enhance your performance. In your case, it will help you get back on the ice quicker." I hand him the documents, his eyes gazing over the words.
"I don't need to enhance my performance." He looks at me, winking with a cheeky grin on his face. "However, anything that'll get me back on the ice, I'm down for."
He signed his name on the dotted line and mine followed below his.
"How old are you?" He asks as I'm filing his info in the computer.
"22. I turn 23 in December."
"I see you go to Pitt. Senior? I like smart girls." He walks around my desk looking at my certification for massage which is hanging on the wall behind me. I try to ignore his last comment. "So, you must like hockey."
I swivel my chair towards him.
"What makes you say that?" I challenge.
"This." James lifts up my Toronto Maple Leafs coffee mug. "Toronto, eh? Interesting." This coming from an Ontario guy.
"Whitby isn't far from Toronto, you should know that." I flash him a smile.
"Seems our encounter a couple days ago brought you some curiosity." He leans agains the corner of my desk, his hand bracing his weight on the corner.
"I'm a Leafs fan but I'm also a Pens fan. It's hardly about curiosity but sheer knowledge."
"Touché. So when do I get to experience your magic touch?" I stand up, inches shorter than him. I never realized how tall he was against my 5'7" frame.
"Not until our next appointment. For now, I just need to take a few measurements, ask a few questions and that's it." He nods and I proceed. Fifteen minutes later, I have every ounce of information one could have on someone. I know the exact measurements of James Neal's musculature. Well, except one part.
"Just in case you were wondering. It's between 6-9 inches. Depending on the girl but for you, well, we'd have to experiment." He laughs.
"Not gonna happen." I retort, making him even more confident.
James puts his hoodie back on which revealed just the tiniest bit of his lower torso. "I'm off until Wednesday and I doubt you'll be playing then so we can schedule for Thursday." I log him in my appointment book. "This is only for emergencies." I hand him a blue card. "My cell number is ONLY used for emergencies like a strained muscle or severe pain. That doesn't mean texting or calling me to talk to go out. I'm not interested."
He laughs again as he places the card in his wallet. "Yes ma'am." He says sarcastically. "I can't promise that I won't at least try to text or call you. But just so you know...." James walks closer to me, his face inches from mine.
"I am interested."
Lovveeee
6/1/14