“Hullo,” Crosby’s voice was quite tentative, as if he was worried if he spoke too loudly or too quickly, something bad would happen.

“Geno is asleep already.” my voice didn’t sound right, it sounded hoarse and not my own.

“I figured as much,” he replied still in that careful tone.

I stood in the door way, staring at him confused, shivering as the cold air seeped into the house. One thing was so blatantly obvious: I really didn’t understand Crosby.

“You knew he would be sleeping, but then what are you doing here?” I asked. I winced, realizing it came out much more harsh than I had intended. I looked up into his eyes, hoping he could see I wasn’t trying to be an ass, I just couldn’t handle one of his and my fights right now.

Even after everything that happened tonight, even thinking about Mom, Crosby’s amber eyes seemed to draw me in. However, unlike previous times, the concern was so clear and intense, I forced my entire head to turn away before I would say or do something stupid.

He took a deep breath and paused for a moment before words started pouring out of his mouth, “The Trans-Canadian highway is one of the longest in the word measuring over eight-thousand kilometers or for you weird Americans, that would be about five-thousand miles. There is an estimated Moose population of over a million in the country. So, if you think about it, it is probably much more reasonable to be afraid of death by moose versus jaguar.”

If I wasn’t surprised before now I was shocked. I stared at him blinking yet again for the billionth time of my life. I opened and shut my mouth several times, all the while the edges of my mouth curling into a slight smile.

“I may have googled that on my way over here,” he admitted. His admission made my eyes crinkle.

“But, I don’t understand. What are you doing here?” I repeated my question from earlier, much kinder this time around.

Crosby looked more serious than I had ever seen him, as if weighing what words would be most appropriate, before he simply said, “I came to check on you.”

“You came to check on me.” I repeated what he said, not as a question, but as a statement, allowing the words to roll around in my mouth as if I was trying to gain a greater understanding of their meaning. He nodded, giving me more confirmation.

“I am fine,” my attempt to convey this was completely foiled as my voice cracked.

“Look Rivers,” Crosby sighed, before adding in a calm albeit a little more impatient tone, “I will be happy to argue about the level of ‘Fine’ you are, due to the fact it looks like you have been crying, however, would it be possible to move this inside? It is rather cold outside and I am sure Geno would not appreciate the increase in his heating bill.”

I pursed my lips, pausing one more minute wondering if I really wanted to let him inside or not. Finally, I moved out of the way, allowing him to enter into the house. He walked in, and by the time I had shut the door and locked it once again, he had taken off his shoes and had disappeared. I frowned, and followed the trail of lights which had not been turned on before.

I found Crosby busy in the kitchen. Normally, I would have laughed and made a joke about what a homemaker he was, but not tonight. I sat on a stool watching him, though not really taking in what he was doing. Remembering his comment about how it looked like I had been crying, I rubbed my face; indeed, my cheeks felt tear stained. I pondered to myself when that could have happened tonight, hoping it hadn’t been at the CONSOL.

“Here,” Crosby said as he set a plate and mug in front of me. I peered at the contents of both, confused once again.

“Now, I am not a professional chef or anything, but I do whip up an incredible peanut butter and jelly sandwich if I do say so myself. And the tea is non-caffeinated, so it will also help to calm you down,” Crosby paused, sizing me up, “I am assuming you haven’t eaten anything since before the game. Rivers, I don’t want to argue about this, so eat.”

I tilted my head slightly to the side as he said all of this and frankly agreeing I took a small bite, still staring at him. I didn’t quite understand where this was all coming from.

“I think this is the longest we have ever gone without really arguing or fighting about something,” Crosby gently teased, trying to coax some sort of reaction from me.

Nodding slowly, I took another bite of the sandwich. I watched him as he leaned his forearms on the kitchen counters. He furrowed his brows as he returned to watching me carefully, as if he was figuring out how he wanted to phrase whatever he was going to say next.

“I owe you an apology,” Crosby said softly as continued to stare at me.

I swear the sound of me trying to swallow the bite of the pb&j was comically loud after he said these words.

“For what?” I was finally able to say trying to get the peanut butter off the roof of my mouth.

Crosby paused for a moment, looking at his hands, “How I treated you back in August, it was not very fair of me.”

For the umpteenth time that night, I stared at Crosby not saying a word.

“At the time, I didn’t understand your friendship with Geno. I was quick to judge, which was quite unfair. I assumed you were using him, which I have come to realize is very much not the case, both through discussions with Geno and through, well, getting to know you. And well,” he a paused, “The look on your face tonight.”

“What?” I broke my silence, “When did you see my face?”

Crosby didn’t answer, suddenly finding the countertop very interesting.

“Crosby?” my voice was sharp once more.

“After they showed the replay of the hit, they were showing people in the crowd, and they showed you.” Crosby answered my question clearly against his better judgement, and then even more regrettably as if he felt like he had to bear his soul, he continued, “When Geno got back to Pittsburgh this January, we had a discussion about you. He told me, how you met and well, he told me a lot. You mean a lot to Geno, if something is wrong with you, it would throw off Geno.”

So it was about Geno, I realized. We both cared about the Russian, so, he was calling for a truce. ‘A truce doesn’t mean he had to come over in the middle of the night to check on you, even if it was for the sake of hockey,’ part of my brain whispered at me. I hushed it and reached out my hand across the counter.

“Truce?” I said tentatively, “For Geno?”

Crosby’s lips twitched as he stood up and reached out his hand to grasp mine, “Truce.”

His hand was surprisingly not terribly bigger than mine, but the two fit together smoothly. Crosby’s grip was firm, but not overly so. I couldn’t help but notice how calloused his hand was, yet at the same time, surprisingly soft. The damn feeling was back in my stomach, but there was also now a strange feeling in my hand, which was still in Crosby’s hand.

“Food for me?” a voice said behind us.

I yanked my hand out of Crosby’s and jumped literally feet into the air, knocking over the barstool I had been sitting on.

A sleepy Geno had wandered in, not looking surprised his teammate was in his house, just rather hungry.

“Another sandwich coming right up,” Crosby said grinning.

---

“You should go to the game. I will be sleeping,” Geno repeated himself for the millionth time.

“I came visit you,” I retorted, “Not hockey not with not you.”

Geno sighed not even bothering to correct me, “My head hurts, and I need sleep. It will make me happy if you go and hang out with Veronique and teammates instead of being stuck here any more. You need more fun.”

“But,” I bit my lip, feeling really guilty. Obviously I wanted to stay with Geno and hang out and do nothing with him, but if he was just going to be sleeping and if he did want me to go to the game, would it make me a terrible friend to go to the game? The last day and a half I had spent pampering the Russian and making sure he was as comfortable as possible. Due to the concussion, Geno had been ordered not to come to the game; a loud stadium with insane flashing lights was about the worst possible thing one could be around with a head injury like that.

Geno held out a hand, took out his phone, hit a few buttons, and put the phone up to his ear, “Flower? Lils go to game. Veronique come get? Bye.”

I shook my head at my dear friend.

“But you must do one thing,” Geno said switching back to Russian.

---

I didn’t feel the least bit self conscious as I shed my coat and proudly sported my game worn Malkin jersey. Geno had insisted that if he couldn’t be there, someone had to represent the Malkin name and he didn’t think anyone could do it better than myself. At first, I was a little worried about the possible problems which could arise by me wearing his jersey. But now, sitting in the box with Veronique and I felt proud to be a Malkin; he was the brother I never had, but always wanted. So honestly, let the people make assumptions, let them judge me right now.

I looked at my phone again. I re-opened the conversation I had with Crosby today.

“Good luck today.”

“Thanks. Are you coming?”

“Yeah.”

“Good”

At least we were being civil, I thought to myself.

“What are you grinning about?” Veronique asked. I locked my phone looking away.

“Grinning? I am not grinning,” I babbled, “So, Tampa Bay. How are we going to do to?”

Veronique narrowed her eyes, and I knew I was busted, though, she let it slide, “Hopefully another win, though they do have that sniper, Stamkos.”

“Stamkos?” I asked, perking up, “Steven Stamkos?”

“You know him?”

I grinned remembering the disastrous football game, “Sorta.”

I peered down at the ice trying to find the blond on the ice, but with no luck as warmups had just ended.

The game started off with a pop, and Crosby was an unstoppable force. He scored twice in the first period: in the first minute of play and then in the seventh with assists by James and Paul. That second goal felt very good to me, so I couldn’t imagine how good it must have felt to the guys. Paul then managed a goal in the last minute of the first period.

The second period brought two back to back goals by Tampa bay, Steven getting an assist on one and the goal on the other. But the little Beau Bennett got his first NHL goal with Crosby assisting in retaliation. Third period was resulted in one goal for both team for a sound Pittsburgh win.

At the end of the game we started to head down to our normal couches by the locker room.

“So, we didn’t go out after last game for obvious reasons,” Veronique paused before continuing, “But James is having a get together at his hosue. We can easily drop you off at Malkin’s before we head over to James’s, but it would be so much more fun if you came with us.”

I scrunched my face up. I felt like I should go back to Geno’s but at the same time, it would hurt to go out with the team? I mean, it is what Geno had pushed for, plus he would be asleep.

“I guess?” I said slightly unsure.

“Perfect!” Veronique said excitedly, “And don’t worry, I have a clothes you can borrow. We planned ahead.”

I raised my eyebrow, “Say what?”

“Well, I mean, you could wear,” she gestured at Geno’s jersey, “But I do have two dresses in the car. We, as in Geno and I, sort of planned this. Since you and all the guys leave tomorrow, Geno wanted you to have fun tonight.”

I rolled my eyes, course they did and of course Geno would, “I am sensing I have little choice in the matter?”

“Parfait!” she exclaimed jumping up and tugging my hand, “Let’s go to the car and get the clothes.”

I sighed as the much smaller woman dragged me through the hallways. Towards the car park.

---

“Veronique, I seriously am okay wearing the jersey and jeans!” I whined as I stepped out of the bathroom stall in her dress. It was a beautiful dress, just not on me. Veronique was a good 4 inches shorter than me, so the dress was much shorter than I would ever wear. My breasts felt like they could very well pop over the top of the dress as well. I could barely breath in the dress. Luckily, the ridiculous heels she brought me were three sizes too small, so I could still wear my black flats which didn’t really fit with the dress, but honestly, no one would be looking at the shoes.
I looked at Veronique, the dress she was wearing was short on her, so I was pretty sure it wouldn’t even cover my ass.

Veronique was staring at me, an odd express on her face, “No, you are wearing this dress for sure.”

“But, isn’t it saying ‘Look at me, look at me, how do you like them apples?’ too much?” as I said this, I shimmed my chest to the extreme causing Veronique and I to bust out in a fit of laughter.

“Well, that is the point, ma cherie, you need to, for a better term get laid.”

I rolled my eyes, this topic was so extremely awkward, “And who with? Neal? That wouldn’t be awkward.”

Veronique actually smirked at me, “No Lily, not Neal. But let’s get going. Marc texted saying he is going to get a ride so don’t wait for him.”

I nodded, carefully putting the jeans and jersey into my bag. I reached for my coat as we left the restroom.

“I really wish the heels would have fit, it would have tied everything together perfectly.” I heard Veronique say disappointedly as we walked down the hall.

We were pretty close to the parking garage when I noticed a group of guys coming from the other direction. They didn’t really look familiar, so they must be from the other team, I thought, but then I noticed a certain blond haired man in the mix and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Steven Stamkos?” I blurted out before I could stop myself. I then remembered 1. I was in Penguins company and they had just lost 2. I was in a bit of a ho dress 3. I had been in a Malkin jersey all night 4. It might not be Stamkos 5. If it was Stamkos, he might not remember me.

The blond man turned his head to look back, as did several of the guys he was with. I could see recognition dawn on his face as he remembered me.

“Lily Rivers.” he said with a grin. I grinned back as I approached him and the group. He opened his arms and I slid into them easily, feeling a little surprised as he gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“What are you doing in Pittsburgh? Shouldn’t you be off scoring touchdowns or something somewhere?”

“Obviously in this, thought I would try a new technique. You know, distracting the competition might help me out,” I teased as I saw his eyes not so subtly flick down my body, before adding vaguely, “I’ve been here visiting friends.”

His eyes flicked to Veronique, and he gave her a kind smile even. “What about coming back to Florida with us, Rivers? Much better weather and arguably company.”

“Maybe next time,” I shrugged, with a half smirk.

“I will definitely take a maybe,” he replied warmly.

“Lils?” Veronique’s voice was polite but reminded me that we were supposed to be on our way.

“I’m sorry, I have got to go.” I muttered to Steven.

Steven grinned, “I understand completely, but first, can I get your number?”

I raised my eyebrows, but obliged him, quickly entering my number into his phone. He pulled me into another embrace before we parted ways.

“You and Stamkos?” Veronique asked once we were out of hearing distance.

I grinned looking over at her, “I met him over the summer. He seems nice and funny. Plus undeniably attractive.”

Veronique frowned, not saying anything, though very clearly there was something on her mind.

---

“Are y’sure I can’t get y’another drink?” Paul asked again, his words were slightly slurred together. I giggled; semi-drunk Paul was pretty amusing, he was very laid back and silly. I was sitting on a counter in the kitchen in James’s house in the midst of the victory party.
Initially after arriving to James’s house, I had stuck closely to Veronique but soon after Marc and Kris Letang showed up, I slid away from the group. They were all speaking rapidly in French, and after spending enough time with people whose first language was not English, I knew their goal was not to be rude, but just easier to speak their first language when they were all tired.

I spent some time with James who, remembering how I liked my alcohol, had poured me a glass of straight vodka with a few ice cubes. But it was very obvious what his goals of the night were, so I had left him with a pack of girls who were fawning over the NHL star. I slowly sipped on this while politely conversing with different teammates and people throughout the night.

Though, despite all the mingling, Crosby and I never crossed paths. I wasn’t sure if this was purposefully on either of our parts. We had made eye contact several times, and those weird flutters had come back in my stomach. I warned my body to chill out, that we weren’t going to war; we were sticking to our truce. However, I couldn’t help but smirk when I realized that the Taylor blond girl from before wasn’t here tonight. ‘Dear brain, shut up’ I begged myself as I found it hard to focus to the conversation at hand.

Eventually, Paul had gallantly rescued me after I had been cornered by a young and very enthusiastic Beau Bennett. Since then, I had stuck with him.

“By the way, what is this rumor about you consorting with the enemy?” he said with mock seriousness in his voice.

“Oh Pauly,” I dramatically sighed. I shivered, not because of feelings or anything, but because in the tiny dress I was wearing, I had been freezing all night.

“I am just saying, there are much more viable options for you here on our team,” any trace of joking was gone. I felt my back straighten and I wondered how drunk he was really. I felt myself gulp as I looked at my friend, wondering how to politely let him down.

“Paul, I’m really sorry-” I started.

“Not me y’silly!” Paul started laughing. I made a face at him.

“I’m sorry, I just thought,” my words trailed off, as I watched him laugh.

“Again, definitely not me.” He started, then worried that he had offended me, “Not that you aren’t an incredible woman.”

I rolled my eyes, “No offense at all taken,”

I shivered again. This time Paul noticed and commented, “And you should be cold wearing that.”

“Thanks, I am. And it is all Veronique.” I complained.

“I bet if you ask Neal, he’ll more than gladly lend you a sweatshirt or something. Better than being cold or wearing your coat.” Paul supplied.

I stared at the possibly certified genius, “Do you mind if I leave you alone for a bit?”

“Not at all,” He said checking out a brunette near us pouring herself a drink.

I smacked his arm playfully as I hopped off the counter, “I won’t hurry back.”

I headed around the house in search of James, and it wasn’t long before I spotted him standing with two pretty girls. I grinned, and began to strut as I headed over towards him. Despite being able to see James’s intentions with either of the girls a mile away, the moment he saw me, his attention snapped faster than a rubber band to me. I knew it wasn’t really fair to blondie 1 or blondie 2, but I was going to die of hypothermia if I didn’t get help, plus it was nice to have a guy like James look at me the way he was looking at me now. I was also getting open mouth looks from the girls, for another reason, because they recognized me.

“Babe, sorry to interrupt, but is it okay if I borrow a sweatshirt or something?” I said, my voice all fluttery and airy.

James grinned, knowing I was teasing, “Yeah, just go up stairs down the hall third door on the right. There should be a sweatshirt hanging up in the closet.”

I gave a big wink before turning to the girls, “You get him girls, he is the best I have ever had, if you know what I mean.”

And with that, I trotted off to find something warm to wear. I smiled as I passed familiar faces but didn’t stop to chat; I had a one track mind.

Getting up the stairs, and to the third door was quite easy. Finding James’s walk in closest was quite easy. Finding a sweatshirt was a lost cause. James had more clothes than I did, which was saying something because I loved my clothes and was sent free stuff all the time from Nike, Burton, and a bunch of other companies.

I stood rooting around his closet trying not to be too invasive of his personal belongings. Where the fuck could a damn sweatshirt be? I thought biting my lip as I stood in the middle of the closet. I walked out and almost had a heart attack.

“Dammit Crosby!” I yelled, my hands jerking up and my entire body tensing, “Why do you always have to do that?”

Crosby was standing right outside of the closet, leaning against the wall, his arms folded against his chest. His entire body looked, well, tense.

“Rivers,” he simply said. I paused, looking at him, my heart racing. I was pretty sure that it my heart wasn’t racing due to being surprised at this point.

“What do you want?” I asked my voice tired. I was not up for this tonight. He had two effing goals, why was he playing this game again? I thought we had sorted all of this out? We had shook on the truce and even texted. He pushed off the wall and took a step closer to me.

“Isn’t it obvious?” his voice was deeper than normal and there was a bit of a rasp to it. I felt my heart start racing even faster as I took a step back. He looked me up and down very slowly, and with this deliberate, slow look, I felt myself heating up down in an area that hadn't received near enough attention in a very long time. 'What are you doing? This is Crosby for fucks sake!' my brain yelled at me.

“No?” I replied my voice quiet, as I took another step back as he took one forward. It was if we were playing a game of chess, I would move and he would move. But the game ended when back hit the wall; I realized I had taken steps back into the closet. He took one step closer, so we were only inches apart. My stomach was going insane, maybe it was fight or flight response?

I swallowed, and the noise was quite audible to the pair of us. My eyes flicked back and forth between his lips and his eyes. He lean forward so his lips were just centimeters away from me and hesitated. I didn’t move a single molecule of my body, and at that moment, I am pretty sure my heart stopped. My brain had certainly stopped working, because it was completely silent; not one snarky remark came to mind. His smell overwhelmed my sense of smell, but as always, this intoxication was welcomed.

I wasn’t sure how long he waited there, it seemed like forever or it could have been half a second. The entire world outside of us seemed to have disappeared as we just, just were. Everything had gone very, very quiet. The anticipation of what could happen next was excruciating. What was he going to do? I am sure as hell not going to do anything.

And then, Crosby leaned down and pressed his lips onto mine. His lips were so soft and gentle as kissed me once, twice, and then he was pulling away.

“I’m sorry,” He started, “I shouldn’t have-”

I reached out and tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling his head back down thus his mouth back down to mine. This time the kiss was pure heat, pure intensity. His tongue tranced along my lips asking for permission, which I granted enthusiastically. Somehow, his taste was just as incredible as his smell. If I thought I was lost in his kiss, that was before I felt his hands on me.

I felt one of his hands wrap around the lower part of my waist pulling me in roughly into and against his hard body as his other hand snaked in my own hair not so gently grabbing a bunch of my curls. At that, I let out an involuntary moan which seemed to just push him on.

“Lily?” I heard my voice being called and we jumped apart like teenagers caught by our parents. I switched positions with Crosby and pushed him against the wall before quickly walking out of the closet.

“H-hi,” I stuttered as I saw Veronique who had just walked into the bedroom.

“We are going to head out. Marc and I--,” Veronique stopped talking, taking in an inventory of me. I didn’t want to think how I looked.

“Oh, uh yeah. Right, I’ll come with you. I was just, uh, cold and looking for a sweatshirt.” I tried to focus and not think about Crosby’s lips on me or the grip of his hands on my--

“Lily?”

“Sorry what?” I attention snapped back to Veronique.

“Are you sure? You could probably get a ride back from one of the guys,” Veronique smirked a little as she glanced towards the closet.

“No, no. I’ll just come now. Yeah. Right now. Let’s go” I said trying to act normal and urging her out of the room.

I glanced back at the closet not sure if Veronique’s interruption was for the best or the worst.

Notes

Hey friends!! Sorry for the delay! I am putting out a bit of a longer chapter now!

As always, game actually happened, woot woot!

The title... well, words by Steven Stamkos and it is in reference to this ridiculousness.

Thank you all for read/subscribing/rating/commenting/being/and anything else!!! I hope to have the next one up in a day or two!