The sitter

Never in my whole 24 years of life have I seen somebody look so hot in jeans and a henley. And I own a book called "Hot people in Henley's".

"Hey." He said. Somehow I managed to say hi back.

He invited me in his kitchen, and being the host he was, he asked if I wanted something to drink.

"Just water," I said, looking around his apartment. Surprisingly, it was exactly the opposite I expected. I thought it would be blank, cold, and not personal at all. But there was a jersey on the wall, and pictures everywhere. I cocked Jaxon on my hip, taking a closer look at a picture of him and three girls, presumably his sisters. One of them was in a cap and gown, and Patrick looked proud.

"That's Jess when she graduated." Patrick said, coming up behind me with a glass of water. "So, baby holding?"

"Oh, yeah." I said, putting Jaxon in his arms. Jaxon immediately started squirming and moving his arms around.

"He tried to punch me!" Patrick said, looking uncomfortable.

"Because you are holding him like he's going to kill you!" I retorted. "Put his head in your arm-"

"Like this?" He interrupted, putting Jaxon's head awkwardly under his armpit.

"If you want to kill him, sure." I said, moving closer so I could move Jax. After some adjusting, Patrick finally held him like he knew what he was doing.

"This is it? Why didn't you just to that right away?"

"I would hit you if you weren't holding him" I said, giving him a death glare and sitting on his couch. Patrick just laughed, and stayed standing.

"Is it different if you sit down?" Patrick asked, looking embarrassed.

"Honestly, I just let him lay down. There are like 300 different ways to hold a baby. I think as long as his head is up, it's fine." I said, laughing.

Patrick breathed a sigh of relief, and set Jaxon down in-between us. Jaxon babbled something high pitched and rolled around, pulling on his socks.

"He's going to play hockey, right?" Patrick said, looking at me. Those eyes would be the death of me.

"If he was my kid, he would." I replied honestly.

"If he was my kid he'd probably be without a head considering the way I hold them!" Patrick said, laughing.

"Hey!" I said. "I just taught you how to hold a baby!" I retorted, laughing too.

Jaxon let out a loud noise, scaring us both. He had one of his socks in his mouth, and the other one in his hand. It was all slobbered up. In the children's book I published about a month ago, it said babies his age would begin to put things in his or her mouth, make noise, crawl, and say his or her first word. If and when I am a parent, I promise I will be there for my child's first word. I didn't want to judge the Williams, but I found my self doing it a lot.

Another thing the book said? The three G's. Grasping, Giving, and Grabbing. For example, Jaxon constantly grasped and grabbed my hair, tank top straps, and his favorite things, socks. He also showed another G. Giving. He dropped his wet, nasty, slobbered up sock on Patrick's leg. I laughed out loud at Patricks face.

"I don't get it!" I said, after Patrick flicked the sock of with a disgusted look on his face.

"Don't get what? Not liking a sock on your leg? I think it's pretty understandable!" Patrick yelled, still freaked out. At least he was smiling. I had experienced semi-grumpy Patrick earlier today, and I didn't want to see angry Patrick.

"You put on wet, stinky, sweaty gear and go sweat more against stinky, scary, big men, and you're freaked out by a sock. Surely you touch your own nasty hockey socks?"

"Yeah," Patrick whined. "But it's not the same!"

We talked more, and then a bit more. I learned that he had a secret stash of "The Vampire Diaries" recorded ("Because, it's actually a great show, we'll watch it sometime"), he hated earrings on guys (Quite frankly, I did too), and he "hands down fucking loves" mint chocolate chip ice cream.

In return, I told him that I preferred to watch crime drama, I hated girls that wore heels on the day to day, and vanilla ice cream with grape juice was my guilty, nasty-sounding late night treat.

"How the fuck do you come across the combination of grape juice and ice cream?" Patrick said, laughing. By now, He had actually voluntarily picked up Jaxon, and then Jaxon fell asleep. I felt my ovaries explode, twice.

"You'll have to try it sometime." I replied.

"Well it's like five now-"

"No shit!" I said, sitting yup.

"What? Do you have somewhere to be?" Patrick said, looking concerned.

"It was like, two, twenty minutes ago!" I said, laughing.

"Time flies. And I'm hungry!" Patrick said. Typical boy. I laughed.

"I'm gunna go run and grab Jax a bottle. WIll you be able to hold the fort?"

"Honey, i'm a pro." My panties got soaked when he said that.

"I'll be back."

Making a bottle didn't take that long, but I needed to stop and catch my breath once the bottle was in the microwave.

"Melanie." I said out loud to my self.

"Yes?" I replied

"I don't know." I answered. "But holy shit." I was definitely catching feelings, or something.

The microwave beeping pulled me out of my conversation with my self, and I capped it, shaking it as I took the short walk back to Patrick's.

I was expecting Patrick to holler "Come in!" and I would feel, well, anything but awkward. Instead, a mad looking Jonathan Toews answered.

Notes

Sort of a shortie, I promise the next one will be longer:)