“And then I caught the ball and then faked to the right and jumped over the guy and sprinted down like, 50 yards and got the touchdown for the win, it was textbook offense,” the man sitting of me bragged. I stared, slightly confused what was different from this story from the last three he had told. I feigned a smiled, my red lips parting slightly in my attempt to be convincing. He beamed back, apparently pleased with himself and me.

I took a bite of my steak--at least the food itself was incredible. This date, not so much. Granted, it was my first date in over two years, but never would I have imagined it to go so, well poorly. Mark Careys was a back-end, reverse end, or tight-end, I wasn’t sure, for the Denver Broncos, and was mutual friends of a friend of Jen’s; I had been coaxed into this situation. At first, I was actually pretty excited about it; I spent time doing my hair in a complex up-do and make-up, and I was wearing a little black dress and a real pair of heels. However, quickly into the date, I started regretting coming out this night. He hadn’t stopped talking about football or himself the entire time. Not once had he asked me anything about myself or about books I enjoyed or about music or film or even what my favorite damn color was. Here I was, wasting one of few nights in Colorado in November with this man who I had nothing in common with.

I felt my purse start buzzing, more than once, which indicated a phone call. I ignored it; even though it was a bad date, I wasn’t going to be rude. A few moments later, my phone started going off again. Someone wouldn’t call twice in a row unless it was important.

“I am terribly sorry,” I interrupted yet another football story he was blathering on about. I reached behind me and into my small purse. I took out my phone and frowned; the phone number wasn’t one I recognized, “If you would excuse me, I have to take this.”

I stood up, and started to walk toward the restrooms while answering my phone, “Hello?”

“Uh, Rivers?” a familiar tenor voice asked on the other end.

“Yes?”

“Hi, uh, this is Sidney Crosby.”

I was silent, leaning against the bathroom wall. What. was. going. on.

“Rivers?”

“Yeah, sorry, I am here.” I replied, shaking my head trying to focus.

“I got your number from James Neal. I am really sorry to bother you, I was wondering if there is any chance you might be in Denver right now?” he asked, his voice sounded strained. I heard some loud announcement in the background, but couldn’t understand what was being said.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” I answered. There was a pause.

“Look, I was visiting my sister to see her play hockey and I was on my way home. My flight got redirected here, and when we got here, the flight out got canceled. All of the hotels around here were filled, and I went to try to rent a car, but those had all been taken as well. So I guess, if it would be at all possible, could you come and get me at the airport and possibly bring me to a hotel somewhere downtown? I am terribly sorry to ask and if it is too inconvenient, I completely understand.” He said this all in one breath.

Before my brain really could think this though, my mouth was moving, “Sure, I am actually pretty close to the airport right now, so I can be there in a little over 15 minutes. I will call when I pull up, so just wait inside.”

What had I just done? I thought as I walked stiffly out of the bathroom and back to my table. Mark was waiting for me at the table, with a big smile.

“I am terribly sorry,” I started, “I actually have a, a person who got stuck at the airport and they are in need of rescue.”

“Oh,” his face fell.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “Trust me, I am really sorry about this. I have to go though.”

“Well, can we reschedule?” he asked looking hopeful. I nodded and smiled pulling on my coat and looked for the waitress.

“I’ll get the check, don’t worry,” he assured me with a big smile. I smiled again and awkwardly waved as I hurried out to the valet, giving him my ticket. I checked my phone as I waited, realizing the first missed call had been from James Neal, with a text following, ‘Are you in Denver?‘ I couldn’t help but smile; these guys took care of their own.

I started typing, erased that and started a new message before erasing that before settling on, ‘Yeah, headed to the airport now’.

Soon enough, the valet pulled up my four door F-150. This always was such a joke when people saw me in this giant black truck but honestly, when I needed to get through the snow or lug around snowboards that have been on the mountains all day, it was the perfect vehicle. I quickly drove to the airport, the radio on quietly some radio station.

After the pool incident, I didn’t see Crosby during the rest of my trip in Pittsburgh. Geno spent his time with the guys at the ice rink and working out or with me. With me, we did lots of ridiculous things, but we also hung out with James, Paul, Fleury, and Veronique. The days leading up until the Lockout became official were a lot of fun. At 11:30pm on September 15th, everything afterwards became kinda sad. Geno met with his agent that very night and had signed and sent over his contract to the KHL. The next couple of days were spent packing up Geno’s stuff and getting his house in order for god knew how long.

I took out my phone again and hit re-dial as I entered the airport round-a-bout.

“Crosby?” I softly asked.

“Rivers?”

“I just pulled up. I have a black truck, four door. I will get out, look for me, in the grey coat.”

I left my truck running as I hopped out of the side and walked around to the other side avoiding the snow as best as I could. I looked up and down the people, an finally I saw him walking towards me.

He was wearing a long grey wool coat, and a black scarf, pulling a suitcase behind him. I gave him a little wave, as I felt my stomach do that flopping thing. Crosby looked a tired and frustrated, but as always, looked incredible. He stopped about two feet away from me.

“Rivers,”

“Crosby,”

We stood awkwardly for a moment.

“Uh, you will want to put that in the backseat and not the trunk,” I gestured towards my truck. The covered truck bed had some snowboards in it still from earlier I had neglected to take out. He just nodded and proceeded to do that as I made my way back to the drivers seat. I got in and made myself comfortable as he did the same.

“So, what exactly happened?” I asked, trying to make polite conversation, as I started to drive.

“My flight was redirected, but the connection was canceled when we arrived here. And then the man at the desk said all the flights were canceled tonight and the likelihood of getting out of here tomorrow was nul,” he recounted sullenly.

“Wait, so they won’t be able to fly you out until at least Saturday?” I asked surprised. I knew the weather was bad here, and if the flights were screwed up this badly at one airport, they tended to be everywhere.

“If that.”

“You should just stay at my house.”

I am not sure who was more shocked at these words: Crosby or me. I could feel Crosby staring at me from across the car. I am not sure what moved me to say these words. Why I was offering him to come stay with me for potentially days? Was I officially going insane? It was because we were in a small space and his damn smell had filled up the car again. Why hadn’t I thought of that? It always made my brain stop working. How the hell does he effect me like--

“I couldn’t impose myself upon you. I’m sure you already have a full house because of Thanksgiving,” he stated politely interrupting my traitorous thoughts.

Once again, not sure who I surprised more, I answered, “Nope, I don’t celebrate the holiday. It is just me, so it wouldn’t be a bother. Plus, it would be easier for you than being stuck in a hotel.”

There was a long awkward silence between the two of us. I saw us coming up upon the exit which would take us into the city and I made the executive decision.

“WWGD!” I suddenly said loudly.

“What? What would God do?” the way he said this, I could tell he might have regretted calling me for help.

“No, course not! What Would Geno Do!” I said, and ignored the exit, and carefully continued driving through the snow on the highway to my house. The car was suddenly filled with that laugh I had heard so long ago in New York, the real Sidney Crosby laugh. I couldn’t help but grin and look over briefly at him. I saw a real smile on his face, and felt my stomach do that weird lurching thing again.

“Do you mind if I send some texts just to let people know what’s going on?” he asked politely.

“Course not.” I said as I carefully passed a car going much slowly than us in four wheel drive. The snow was starting to come down much harder now. I glanced over at him, feeling a surge of appreciation. How very polite he was being. Nothing drove me more insane than when you were with someone, and they were on their phone the entire time. I understood this, Crosby needing to contact his loved ones, that blond bimbo, and -- Wow there, brain? I scowled at the road ahead, ashamed at where my brain had gone. What does it matter to you?

I carefully got off at the exit, and headed towards my neighborhood. A 15 minute, and only slightly awkwardly quite car ride later we reached my house. It sat on several acres away from the nearest neighbor, allowing myself plenty of privacy. I hit proper key sequence to open the gate into my driveway, and then drove up the long drive. When we reached the garages, technically had two garages which were connected by a roofed glass paneled hallway, I opened the one further from the house itself and pulled in next to the blue Prius sitting inside.

“Don’t say it,” I cut him off before he could say a word, as I shut the car garage before we got out of the car, “When it isn’t snowing ridiculous, I only ever drive the hybrid. Yes, it doesn’t go as fast, but I love it and it is my baby.”

“I wasn’t going to say a word,” he smiled as we both got out of the car. I waited as he retrieved his suitcase and then led him through the garage and then through the glass hallway and into the next garage. This garage was dedicated to snowboards. We quickly made our way through the workshop and to the door into the house.

I took of my coat in the mudroom and hung it up in the closet.

“Can I take your-”

“What did I interrupt tonight?” he interrupted now, as he quite obviously checked me out. His eyes slowly roamed over my body resting on my face.

I shook my head, “It really wasn’t important at all. Now, your coat goes in there. And shoes off.”

I slipped off my heels and waited for him to catch up.

“Right, tour.” I sighed. I took him through the house showing him around the main floor before bringing him upstairs and taking him to the main guest room.

“There should be towels in the linen closest there,” I finished, biting my lip trying to think if I forgot anything, “Oh, the internet password is ‘frontside misty’, one word, no capitals. Uhm, I think that is about it?”

I looked at him squishing my lips to the side trying to think if I forgot anything.

“Thank you, seriously.”

I shook my head, “It’s fine. I am gonna go clean up. Uh, have you eaten anything?”

It was his turn to shake his head, “Cool, if you want to shower or something, I can whip up some dinner, do you like pizza?”

“Love it, and thanks again,” he looked a little relieved and I smiled and padded out of the room. I had the oddest feeling in the pit of my stomach, I was pretty sure the world was going to end or something to that degree which is why we were being so oddly pleasant to each other.

“Do it for Geno,” I muttered to myself.

---

“What smells so incredible?” Crosby asked as he walked into the kitchen. I turned off the facet and put the last dish in the drying rack.

“Homemade BBQ chicken pizzas,” I answered as I dried my hands on a towel, “should be done in abooout 4 minutes.”

“You didn’t need to go to so much trouble,” he mumbled standing awkwardly.
“No trouble,” I shrugged my shoulders, “I needed to eat, and it is really easy to whip these babies up.”

After I had left Crosby, I had washed the make-up off my face and quickly changed into a comfortable outfit before coming down and starting on the flatbread pizzas. It was literally some flour, spices, a little olive oil, and water for the dough and then bbq sauce, chicken chunks, red peppers, onions, and a little cheese on top; super easy and quick.
I took a sip of my water, and tilted my head to the fridge, as an indicator for Crosby, “If you want something, just go and help yourself. Seriously.”

He hesitantly walked over to the fridge and opened it, inspecting the fridge. I almost felt like it was a test, as if he judging the contents. I rolled my eyes, not really caring what he thought about the contents. He shut it, “Where are your glasses?”

I pointed to the cupboard left of the sink, and he walked over and got a glass and filled the glass with water and drained it. He did this twice more before slowing down his water consumption.

The loud beep of the oven went off and I quickly grabbed a pair of oven mitts to take out the two pizza pans from the oven. I moved the pizzas to a cutting board and cut them up and reached down for two plates and handed one to Crosby.

We sat awkwardly on the bar stools at the counter eating the pizza quietly.

“This is incredible,” he remarked at one point, to which I nodded and smiled before letting out a big yawn. I hopped off of my stool and started on the remaining dishes while Crosby finished another slice.

“Can I help?” I heard him ask behind me, and I just shook my head. It would go faster tonight if I just cleaned up. When everything was finally done, and our bellies pleasantly full, I glanced awkwardly over at him.

“I think I am going to turn in,” I rambled.

“Yeah, it has been a long day,” he sighed, and followed me back towards the stairs. I paused quickly turning on the security systems before trudging up the stairs behind him.

When we reached the landing were we needed to part ways we stood there for a moment, looking at each other.

“Well, I guess goodnight?” I said looking up at him.

“Yeah, goodnight. And thanks for everything Rivers.” Crosby said sincerely.

I gave him a nod and turned, heading into my room, shutting the door behind me. I flopped into my bed and rolled onto my back. What the hell have I done?

Notes

Hi friends!!! It is crazy how much you can accomplish in a night when there isn't any hockey on. So, here is another chapter!!!!!

As always, thank you for reading/reviewing/commenting!!! I really can't even believe that so many people are reading this and I just hope that you like it (sorta kinda maybe >.< ). There will be another chapter up by tomorrow night (hopefully)!!