Never Again

** LACEY'S POV **

The longer I spent at Patrick's apartment, the less worried I felt myself becoming. Even though I know nothing about this man other than the fact that he plays hockey for the Blackhawks, he seems nice enough. I mean, aren't hockey players supposed to be all bad and tough? Yet here he is, blabbering on about bunnies. I have no idea what he means when he says he thought I was a bunny, but if he's going to lie to me about it, then I'm going to assume that it's not something I want to be and that it probably has something to do with the fact that he said he invited me here to have sex. If he thinks that I'm going to put out while barely knowing him, then he's sadly mistaken. Especially with what happened with Alex. No way, no how. Sorry, buddy.

A part of me is worried that he's going to try to force himself on me, but for now he isn't pressuring me at all. I probably won't stay much longer, but I'm not ready to leave just yet. I'm feeling happy. Although I'm less worried about my own well-being, the longer I look at Patrick, the more I'm starting to worry about his well-being and health. He has dark purple bags under eyes and he's clearly very tired. I can't imagine that their schedules allow for much sleep. I might not know much about hockey, but I can assume that it takes a pretty severe toll on one's body and I can see that Patrick is no exception. He's still in his suit, but it has a few wrinkles in it from sitting on the couch talking for so long.

As the evening progressed, all of my worries were officially gone and I noticed myself having a really good time. I was thinking about how glad I was that I decided to come. I even felt some of my stresses from the rough work week I had leaving my body, too. Patrick and I had discussed everything from my job, my childhood, my brother Ian to how I've adjusted to living in Chicago. The only thing wrong with the evening was that everything was about me. I've been sitting in Patrick's apartment for almost three hours and I still don't know anything more about him besides the fact that he plays hockey and that he has three sisters.

"So, Pat, enough about me. Tell me about yourself. What's it like to be a bigshot hockey player?"
He smiled the most beautiful smile that I've ever seen in my life. "It's great, it really is. I feel like I was born to play hockey and I've worked my entire life to get here. The fans are great and I couldn't ask for a better city than Chicago to play in."

He seemed genuine, but I wanted to see if my suspicions were right. "What about when you guys lose? I know it must be hard."

The smile that I saw not even two minutes ago was wiped right off his face, and I instantly knew I was right in regards to how much he was hurting from tonight's loss.

"Yeah, it's rough. I mean, the fans are great like I said and they deserve for us to win, so whenever we lose on home ice, it always hurts, you know? We just want to do our best and every time that we lose, we didn't do our best. It's hard to sleep at night knowing that we've disappointed thousands of people, no matter how tired we are, but it's part of the job. We're used to it. Every single play that went wrong flashes through our heads preventing us from sleeping, and even though we know what to do to fix our mistakes, it's too late. It's always a few hours too late."

I brought my eyes up to his and I could swear that there were tears threatening to spill over. I know tonight's game was bad for them. In that moment, all I wanted to do was help him. I want to be able to make him smile again; he deserves at least that before I leave.

I instantly felt bad for testing out the water with Patrick and losses. "I'm sorry, Pat. I didn't mean to make you upset. Is there anything I can do to help? Besides, you know... what you invited me here for?"

Patrick let out a heavy sigh, and I reached out to put my hand on his arm reassuringly. I felt how tense his muscles were, and I gave his arm a squeeze.

Patrick might have thought that it went unnoticed by me, but it didn't. When I squeezed his arm, he ever so slightly flinched from the pain. This poor man. What never even mattered to me in the least in my life has him heartbreakingly upset.

His voice broke my thought bubble, "How about we just watch a movie? I know it's late, but I really don't want you to leave."

"Here, I have a better idea. Where's your bathroom?"

♦ ♦ ♦

Within ten minutes I had Pat sitting in a tub of warm water. I searched his cabinets for some scented bubble bath to help him relax, and I was disappointed when I didn't find any. I guess I should have expected it. Pat made it clear that he gets out his post-game frustrations sexually, not through scented bubbles.

Once I was sure that he wasn't going to jump out of the tub the second I left him alone, I looked for Patrick's house key. I knew I was probably crossing some sort of boundary, but I didn't care. The only thing I cared about was making sure that the man in that apartment feels a little better. Once I found what I was looking for, I quietly left the building to look for the nearest corner store. Luckily for me, I didn't have to look for long. Chicago is a big enough city that there are 24 hour corner stores, well, on every corner.

I walked into the little shop and greeted the man working behind the counter. I knew it was a long shot, but I figured I would at least ask.

"Do you guys sell scented incense? I know it's a bit of a weird request, but I need some."

The man behind the counter looked up at me, and smiled. "Yes actually, we do have some. Which type would you like?"

"Whichever has the most calming effect."

A few minutes later I was walking out of the corner store with lavender incense in my hands. My next stop was a Walgreens.

When I finished my purchase in Walgreens, I headed back to Pat's apartment and hoped that he was still in the bath. To my surprise, he was. He must have been enjoying it more than he thought he would. I smiled to myself. Good, he needs to relax his sore muscles.

I quickly put the keys back where I found them and made my way to what I assumed was his bedroom. It was big, but simple. A dresser sat beside a large, king-sized bed which had a single sheet on it. I lit the incense and placed them in various places throughout the room, hoping to ensure that the entire room had a calming feeling to it. I then took out the heated blanket I found at Walgreens and placed it over his sheet, turning it on.

On my way back to the kitchen, I knocked on the bathroom door.

"Pat? You alright?"

"Yeah, thanks. Just relaxing, this really feels nice. I'm sorry, I'm really not being a good host."

"Alright, but don't stay in longer than 10 more minutes. It's not good for you. And don't worry about it; I know you could use some relaxation right now."

"Okay."

I made my way to the kitchen and looked through Pat's pantry. Wow. He must eat out a lot, because he has no food at all. I managed to find two slices of bread, and a few other ingredients to make a sandwich. Right as I finished making it, Pat walked in to the room wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants.

I probably spend a few too many seconds looking at his chiseled chest, and he definitely noticed because he flashed me his smile again. Damn, this man was attractive. When I finally found my voice again, I spoke.

"Here. I figured you might be hungry."

In a few short steps, he closed the space between us. "Thanks. You know, you really don't have to do this. I basically assumed you were a.. you know.. trashy girl, and yet here you are, forcing me to take hot baths and making me food at four in the morning."

He took a bite of his sandwich, and took a sip of water.

I let out a little laugh. "It's in my nature. I always have to take care of people, don't worry about it. When you're done with your sandwich, head off to bed. I left you a little surprise that should hopefully let you sleep a little better."

This threw Patrick off guard.

"What? You're not staying?"

"No. I have to work in a few hours, and I have things to do. It was great meeting you, though. It really was. I had a good time."

I waited, thinking that maybe Patrick would give me a hug or something. I didn't really know what to expect, and he didn't look like he knew what to do, either. The awkwardness between us instantly reminded me of my relationship with Alex, and I couldn't handle it anymore.

"See you later, Pat."

And with that, I walked out the door and back into the night, leaving Pat standing confused and alone in his kitchen.

Notes