Never Again

** PAT'S POV **

"Pat! Hurry up! We're already late!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm going as fast as I can. Wanna help me get this girl out of my room though, first? I don't want to leave her here while we're gone, I don't trust her, hell I don't even remember her name."

Jonathan sighed. He loved Pat, he really did, but sometimes he was too much. I mean, a girl in his room at four in the afternoon on a game day? He was used to helping Pat get rid of girls before morning skates, but never before heading to the United Centre for a game.

"Fine, but this is a new low. Even for you, Kaner."

I chuckled. I might regret the fact that the girl was in my bed at 4 pm, but I definitely didn't regret what we did and the morning we had. Smiling to myself, I walked a few steps ahead of Jon as we headed towards my bedroom.

At this point in our friendship, Jon knew the drill. He took my Michael Kors watch off of my desk and ever so gently placed it, barely visible under the pillow of the naked girl sleeping peacefully in my bed. He had to be careful not to disturb her slumber. It's happened before, and it ended in disaster. When he safely tiptoed away and gave me the thumbs up, it was showtime, as I liked to call it.

I yelled my usual line for situations like these. "Hey Jonny boy! Have you seen my watch? I can't find it."

"Nah bro, I haven't seen it, but I'll help you look. What's it look like?"

"It's my Michael Kors one. It's silver, pretty big wrist band. You can't miss it."

At this point, the girl in my bed was starting to stir. Not fully awake yet, but she was about to be.

"Uh, Pat" Jon said in a fake state of surprise, as he made sure to stomp his feet while re-entering the bedroom. "You might want to see what your girl has under her pillow."

Upon hearing herself being mentioned, the girl was fully alert in my bed. She turned her head towards the pillow and as soon as she saw it, I entered the room and gave her a look-over.

I had to bite my cheek to keep myself from laughing as I yelled, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY WATCH UNDER THE PILLOW?!? WERE YOU TRYING TO STEAL IT?"

I paused to let the girl explain herself, but due to her state of shock she was unable to speak. I knew this would happen, it always did. "I KNEW YOU WERE JUST USING ME FOR MY MONEY! I'M CALLING THE COPS, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" With that, I left my bedroom and stormed into the kitchen, leaving Jonathan alone with the girl.

I heard Jon say "he's not kidding, you know. I suggest you get out, and that you do it fast. We have places to be, and he won't hesitate to call a police escort to make sure we get there on time, if you know what I mean."

With that, the girl jumped out of bed, quickly gathered her scattered articles of clothing and unknowingly ran past me in the kitchen on her way out the front door.

After hearing the door click shut, I breathed a sigh of relief. Our plan was always risky, and it didn't always work. "Thanks buddy," I said in Jon's general direction, which was already halfway to the door. "Hurry your ass up Kane, or I'll be sure to make sure coach Q knows why we're late."

♦ ♦ ♦

The game was rough. We were taking on the Detroit Red Wings, and it was far from the game we wanted it to be. Everywhere I looked, there were signs of frustration. Brandon Bollig was cursing under his breath, Patrick Sharp had his helmet resting on the bench to give his eyes access to the ground, and the guys were just unhappy in general. To everyone's surprise, even Jon banged his stick along the boards after a bad shift. He was captain serious. He never showed signs of frustration, even during the worst of games, but today was the exception. We were only halfway through the second period, and the score was 4-0 for the Wings. Corey Crawford was frustrated too, and he started attacking any guy who came anywhere near his crease.

The referees decided that were having no more of Crawford's games. When he crosschecked a Wing to the ground, the ref raised his arm in the air indicating a penalty. I took possession of the puck resulting in a stop in the play, and Crawford went nuts. He started screaming his head off in the direction of the referee. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND? YOU'RE GONNA CALL THAT, BUT NOT ALL THE CHEAP SHOTS THEY'RE TAKING? LEARN YOUR FUCKING JOB BUD!"

The referee skated to, and then stood at centre ice to make his official call. "Blackhawks number 50 Corey Crawford, two minutes for cross checking and two minutes for unsportsmanlike conduct." The crowd erupted into a chorus of boos, disagreeing with the calls. Being unable to serve the penalty himself, coach Q had to choose one of the guys to serve it for him.

Over the sound of the crowd, I heard Q's voice. "Pat, take this penalty."

My head snapped towards him on the bench, "What?! Why me? I want to kill it, not serve it!"

"You want to kill penalties Patrick? Show up on time to games, and then we'll talk about you killing penalties."

I skated to the box, defeated. This was just not my day. At least I could crowd hunt, as I call it, for my nightly fling. I was looking around the box when I found the perfect girl. She was looking down at her phone, but I could still see how beautiful she was. She had long brown hair and she was sporting a number 88 on her back. I smiled. Girls just can't resist the Kane charm. But something was different about her. She wasn't like the other girls I usually brought home. She was natural. There was nothing fake about her. No eyelash extensions, no boob jobs, and no face lifts. She looked shy, but I'm Patrick Kane. There has never been a girl who has turned down the Patrick Kane, and I was determined to ensure that she wouldn't be the first.

♦♦♦

The game finished with a final score of 5-1 and absolutely no one was happy with themselves or the way the team played. Equipment was flying around the room, being thrown against lockers and multiple swear words could be heard coming from every possible direction. I wanted to join in on the frustration and drink away the pain, but then I remembered the best thing for me after a tough loss: a cute little puck bunny. This brought my thoughts back to the brown-haired beauty from earlier, and I quickly signed a puck with instructions on it of where to meet him in an hour's time.

"Hey, Rick, can you do me a favor? There was a cute brunette behind the penalty box, can you give this to her please?"

Rick, our equipment guy, turned towards me. "Yeah, no problem. Was she with anyone?"

"I think I saw a blonde with her, a little short but cute as well."

"I'm on it."

I smiled. "Thanks Rick."

Rick let out a long overdue laugh. "No problem, Pat. Have fun tonight."

Notes

First one!