Can't Be Tamed...Or Can He?

Anna was in a partying mood — earlier that day, she'd been notified that she was selected to complete an internship with one of the biggest PR firms in Chicago, a goal that she had been working toward since she was 18 years old.

Her friends insisted that they go out and celebrate, regardless of the fact that it was a Thursday night. Anna didn't complain, for once — she had spent the last five years doing nothing but studying, slaving over a keyboard, conducting interviews, and giving presentations — she deserved to have fun for a change.

~~~~~~~~~~

"To Anna!" her friend Katie shouted. Katie, who was on the verge of being totally white girl wasted, had made about six (very loud) toasts in the last hour. The girls laughed, and Anna looked around, slightly embarrassed.

She was buzzed and very happy, that's for sure, but her feet were starting to hurt from all the dancing and she could practically feel her makeup melting off her face. "I'll be right back, I need a little break." Anna pointed to the bar and her friends nodded.

She plopped onto a barstool and eyed her almost-empty glass. She decided to give it a minute and pulled out her phone. Sweet, the Hawks won! She was checking the box score and skimming the recap when the bartender approached her.

"Your next drink has been paid for," he said as he placed a margarita in front of her. Anna's eyes widened. "What? By who?" she asked, confused.

The bartender pointed to a table in a dark corner of the crowded room. Anna could see a guy looking in her direction. His features were hard to make out, but she raised her glass in thanks before turning her attention back to her phone.

A moment passed, and Anna felt a presence next to her...as in, right next to her, an invasion of personal space. She looked up to see who it was and choked on her drink. The guy had a shaggy blonde mullet, blue eyes, and a goofy smile on his face — a face that she had seen so many times on TV and during her frequent trips to the United Center.

"Are you okay?" he asked as she coughed, water streaming from her eyes.

"I'm fine," she gasped, finally regaining her composure. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he chuckled. "I'm Patrick," he added before taking a sip of the beer he was nursing.

"Anna," she said nervously, What the hell was going on?

"Your friends were making quite the scene over there...what's that about?"

"Uh, nothing, I just received an internship and we decided to celebrate," she blushed.

"Congrats," he offered. "How would you feel about going somewhere quiet so you can tell me more about it?" He seemed so genuine upon first glance, but Anna could see a look in his eyes that fully exposed his intention.

She quickly downed the last of her drink. No way. She wasn't going to be one of Patrick Kane's sluts. She had more self-respect than that...no matter how hot he was, or how strong his hands looked...regardless of the fact that he's scored a hat trick just a few hours before.

"Sorry, but I think my friends are looking for me. I've got to go." Anna stood up. "Thanks for the drink," she added, enjoying the dumbfounded look on his face for a split second before walking back out onto the crowded dance floor.

She found her friends and dragged them into the bathroom. "Holy shit," she said as the door closed.

"What's going on?" her friend Olivia asked, clearly worried.

"Patrick Kane just bought me a drink!" she practically shouted.

Her friends started squealing. "No he didn't!" "What?" "Stop messing with us?" "Holy fuck!"

"I swear to god! He's out there, and he sat next to be at the bar and tried to get me to go home with him," Anna blurted.

"Oh my god!" Katie screeched. "I hope you said yes!"

"No!" Anna replied, and her friends fell silent. "I'm not that girl. I'm not going to be just another name on his list, only to be dropped in the morning. We all know of his reputation."

"You're insane," Olivia groaned. "The things I would do to that man, even if it were only for a night..."

"Then you go after him, because I'm not interested. Now let's get out of this place, my feet are about to fall off," Anna said as she pushed open the door. The other girls protested, but followed her begrudgingly.

Anna walked straight through the crowd, refusing to even glance at the table in the corner. As soon as she made it outside, she took a deep breath. Her head was pounding.

"Shit!" yelled her friend Lauren. "I forgot my purse in the bathroom, hold on." She re-entered the bar with a panicked look in her face.

Anna called a cab while the girls waited. A few moments later, Lauren walked over the threshold and onto the sidewalk, holding her purse. "I got it!" she said with a smile. Everyone cheered, then climbed into the cab that had just pulled up to the curb.

~~~~~~~~~~

"How 'bout them wheels, eh Kaner?" lBrent Seabrook laughed as Patrick sat down with a defeated look on his face.

"Yeah, square wheels," added Bickell. The rest of the guys hooted and hollered. They had never seen Patrick get rejected, let alone after a Hawks win.

"What the hell happened, man?" asked Patrick Sharp.

"Shut the fuck up, Bicks," Kaner snapped. He looked at Sharpie. "I'm not sure, she just...shut me down."

"Maybe she's a lesbian?" Seabrook mused. "

No way, not with a body like that," Bickell replied.

Patrick silently downed the rest of his beer. He wasn't really sure what to do with himself. This had never happened before — he was Patrick Kane.

"Just go pick up another girl, Kaner," Sharpie said. "I'm sure there are plenty who are more than willing to go home with you," he grinned.

Patrick shook his head. There was something about Anna. He couldn't focus on anyone except her.

"Um, excuse me," a nervous voice interrupted. The table fell silent. Patrick groaned internally. The last thing he wanted was to take a picture with someone. He raised his eyes to see a pretty blonde wearing a tight red dress.

"Can we help you?" Sharpie asked with a warm smile. They always let him talk to the hot ones, because everyone knew that he was married to his wife, Abby.

The girl looked at Patrick. "Hi, I'm Lauren. I just came to talk to you about my friend Anna." Patrick's interest perked, and he looked at her intently.

The girl continued. "I know she kind of rejected you...she's a real pain in the ass about stuff sometimes...but, uh, as her friend, I need to do what's best for her. So I came to give you this. It's her number."

She set a piece of paper down in front of Patrick; sure enough, he could see a phone number scribbled down.

"Thanks," he grinned.

Lauren smiled tentatively. "No problem." She pointed a finger at him. "Don't make me regret this," she said, half-joking, half-threatening.

"I won't," Patrick assured her.

"Good," Lauren replied. "Well, see you guys later," she said before turning away and heading toward the door.

Patrick sat back, slightly stunned, while his buddies crowed. "You're the luckiest bastard I know," Seabs said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Patrick smiled as he stared at the paper in his hand. This is it, he thought to himself, This is my second chance.

Notes