Shots

James held a baggie of ice to his cheek by his lonesome in the basement kitchen, whose bright fluorescent lights blared harshly in James’ eyes. His brown hair was mussed, his tall frame hunched over as he sat on one of the counters. He sighed to himself, reflecting on the events that had ensued. While Harper had instructed him to let himself into the kitchen and find some ice, she was attempting to calm Brady down. He struggled to collect all the thoughts in his head that were frustrating him. He had just taken a punch in the face over a girl he had met only two hours ago, yet if he wasn’t bound to being an NHL All-Star, James would have given Brady so many right-handed punches that he’d be begging for a left. It pained him, physically and mentally, to know why the mysterious auburn-haired bartender with the bright blue eyes and the kissable lips took such a liking to him.

“I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, huh?”

James looked up and hopped off the steel counter, lowering the bag of ice from his cheek as he saw Harper’s pained, yet angelic face. “Actually I think you’re the only person that I can stand to look at right now.”

Harper gave him a weak smile, pushing her fingers through her auburn hair that managed to shimmer in the harsh light. Her fingers tightened at her scalp. “James, I’m so, so sorry.”
James nodded gently, acknowledging her apology, but not quite accepting it. “You’re not going to press charges, are you?”

James shook his head quickly. “No, god no. I don’t need that kind of attention. Plus his punch was pretty weak in comparison to some NHL punches I’ve gotten,” he added with an artificial smile.

Harper chuckled. “True.”

They stood together in pained silence for a long while, both looking away when their eyes met. He had no idea what to say to her, how to apologize – how to make all of it go away. He imagined meeting her in the off-season, without a shred of a boyfriend in existence. But reality was starting to throb on his cheek. After gazing at his shoes for what felt like a lifetime, James finally looked up. “Where’s Brady?”

“I was able to calm him down a bit, but he went home. I’d say we’re pretty much even at this point. Don’t worry, only the bouncers and my boss know about it, and they wouldn’t dare say anything about it to anyone. To be honest, I think Brady might get fired.”

James winced. He obviously didn’t appreciate the punch in the face, but he didn’t want Brady to get fired over it. If he had a girlfriend like Harper dancing with some NHL jerkoff, he would have punched his lights right out. “I’m not pressing charges, and tell your boss not to fire him. I would have done the exact same thing if I was him. Especially if you were my girlfriend.”

Harper eyed him, biting her lip as a smile tried to creep across her face. James couldn’t help but smile to himself in response, as he hoped she was trying to repress thoughts about what being his girlfriend would really be like. “Are you mad?”

James lifted the bag of ice from his cheek and placed it on the counter beside him. He shook his head. “No.” He cleared this throat, slowly running a hand through his now-tousled hair. “His punch wasn’t packing anything, and I’m not trying to play it down. It may have been a different story had he hit me any harder.”

Harper forced a laugh, crossing her arms over her stomach. By the look on Harper’s face that was incredulous, shocked and uneasy all at the same time, James could tell that she was yet to process what had happened. There was so much awkwardness that sizzled between the two of them that James was just begging to break the tension. He wanted to gather her up in his arms just like he had only moments ago, brush her hair out of her face, and kiss her on the forehead. He wanted to tell her everything was going to be okay, because he was there for her. Because she didn’t need Brady. Because she had him – James Neal.

But it would all be a lie. He knew that come 72 hours, he’d be on a jet back to Pittsburgh, she’d be back in Brady’s arms, and they’d both be back to the lives they knew without each other. He had so many things he wanted to do, so many things he wanted to say – but he bottled it all up inside, letting the tension fill between them.

Looking up at James, who towered over her, her brows knit. “Actually, now that you put the ice down, the redness is starting to go away. It doesn’t actually look that bad. Come here.”

James felt the cold patch on his cheek quickly searing at the thought of getting close to Harper again. He managed to put one foot in front of the other, and get close enough for her to lift her small hand to his cheek. Simply feeling her slender fingers touch his skin made him fight every fiber of his being from scooping her up and attacking her like a shark smelling blood. She stepped slightly closer, her body gently grazing against his. It was totally new in comparison to the way he had hungrily grabbed her body like he had on the dancefloor. This was gentle, soft, and much more forbidden. It made James’ mouth water for her. The buzz of the crowd upstairs and the fluorescent lights above him sounded like a symphony to him. The words that came out of Harper’s mouth were like the angelic melody that accompanied it.

“Kiss me.”

- - -

“What about you?”

Violet looked up from her eggs benedict. “What about me, what?”

“Your date. When’s the last date you went on?” Tyler asked into his eggs.

Violet exhaled, twisting her lips in thought. “Let’s see. Like you, it was in the summer. His name was Will, and he was the brother of one of my friends from dance. He saw me dancing, and waited at my car after practice to ask me out. It was kind of a creepy thing to do, but he was tall, and really good-looking. He looked like Liam Hemsworth, so I said yes. We went out a few times. He was nice, and I liked him, but there just wasn’t any...spark, you know? I feel like that’s one of the most essential things for two people to have in a relationship...to just know in one look how crazy you are about each other.”

Tyler smiled to himself, twirling his fork in his finger. “Do we have a spark?” he asked, eyes glued to the movement of his fork.

Violet bit down on her lip, practically drawing blood to avoid the smile that was begging to spread across her face. When she locked eyes with him, she curled her lips back over her teeth and simply shrugged. The two of them fell silent for a moment as they finished off their late-night breakfast. Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the table. It was a text from Christine.
“Are you gonna do it??” it read.

Before Violet could answer, Tyler spoke. “You know, I’ve never told anyone this before, but I wish I was the kind of guy who could be in a relationship.”

Violet felt her eggs nearly go down the wrong pipe. “Come again?”

“I...kinda wish I was a relationship guy. I see a lot of guys who have girlfriends, or who are engaged, or married, and they just seem so happy.”

Violet cocked a brow. “Is this some sort of ploy to make me think you’re sensitive so I’ll get into bed with you?”

“No,” Tyler immediately quipped back. “But that would be a bonus,” he added with a quick grin. “I mean it. I just think that maybe there’s part of me that’s missing because I don’t want a girlfriend. All I want is sex,” he said with a chuckle, “and being tied down to one girl would make me feel so smothered and it takes the fun out of everything. I’ve tried it, but it always ended badly, so I just...gave up. I wish I could be that guy who wants to buy a girl flowers, or likes a girl for her eyes and smile over her tits and ass, or a guy who feels that...spark.” As the word left his mouth, his eyes flashed towards Violet. “But I’m not.” It was a low, baritone whisper.

Violet smiled at him furtively, as if she was harbouring a secret. “Maybe it’s not you. Maybe you just haven’t found the right girl. When you find her, you won’t feel tied down or smothered. It’ll just feel...right.”

When Tyler’s breath escaped him, his mind began to race. He was leaning back in his chair, drinking every part of Violet in. The way he wanted to absolutely ravage her like he did back in the bar had completely escaped him. Now, it was something else entirely. He still wanted to run his hands over every inch of her glorious body, but in a way that felt foreign to him. He wanted to learn the curve of her body. He wanted to feel the warmth of her skin against his. He wanted to make her feel a level of pleasure that no one had made her feel before – but not for the sake of one night of passion. It was because he knew that with her, he was getting closer to feeling a certain way about a woman that eluded him his entire life. Just the thought that after tonight, he would never see her again, made his chest tighten in anxiety. “Why’d you want to do all this tonight?”

The corner of Violet’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Because. I wanted you to treat me and respect me like a woman should be treated and respected. Because of that, now you’ve told me things about yourself you’ve never told anybody. Things you really needed to get off your chest.”

Tyler’s mouth twisted into a grin and he rubbed his chin. “You’re good, you know that?” Violet shrugged and smiled triumphantly, her eyes skyward. Tyler whispered something to himself, but it was nearly inaudible. Violet thought she heard him say, “Too good for me.”

Violet’s phone buzzed again. “Show him who’s boss!” it read. The way Tyler was speaking made doubt course through Violet. She wasn’t quick to forget Tyler’s calculatingly seductive ways, but something about his words seemed truly sincere.

Am I making the wrong decision?

But Violet remembered Christine. She remembered Courtney. And she remembered why she was there.

“Come here.” Just as quickly as Tyler had fallen into a spell, Violet’s near whisper brought him right back out of it. He slowly stood from his chair, Violet following suit. She stepped close to him, her eyes gripping his as she placed a hand on his tie. She let her hand slowly glide along the velvet before she reached up to the knot and began to untie it. Tyler was as still as a statue, lips parting and his eyes glued to the movements of her fingers. As his tie fell free from his neck, and Violet held it in her small hands, she reached to his shoulders and slowly slid off his suit jacket. Tyler’s heart rate began to pick up as she placed his jacket on the chair and reached for the buttons of his white oxford. He wanted to run his hands over her body, kiss her hair, do anything to exercise the lust that was mounting inside of him – but he didn’t want to jeopardize anything. He didn’t want her to think he had lost that respect for her she had mentioned, or it would all be over. Every movement of her fingers made his skin pulse in anticipation, knowing he was closer and closer to feeling her hands on his bare skin.
She reached his stomach, where his prominent ab muscles were slowly revealing themselves to her. She hummed in appreciation, the movement of her fingers slowing as she took them in. At that point, he was ready to rip his shirt off and toss her like a sack of potatoes onto the bed, but he let her finish. Once his shirt hung loose on his body, Violet tossed it on top of his jacket. He was completely shirtless, and instead of running her hands all over his body, her hands fell to her sides. She could feel the heat bleeding from his body, already imagining how her skin would feel against his on a cold winter night. She looked down at her plaid shirt, motioning to him with her eyes that it was his turn. His thick hands charged towards her buttons, fumbling as he went along. Violet smiled to herself as she realized his hands were nowhere near as graceful as hers, yet he earned millions of dollars a year to use them to the best of his abilities. As he descended, she let her shirt fall around her elbows, and her simple black modal bra came into view. Finally, her shirt fell to the ground, and Tyler marveled at the definition of her stomach. It wasn’t a product of long hours in the gym, like his. He imagined the firm lines were all a consequence of hard work in the dance studio.

She reached for the buttons of her cutoffs, while Tyler reached for his own. Their bottoms came off all at once, Violet reaching all the way to the ground to bring her tights along with them. Her black thong was as simple as her bra, but he liked the simplicity. He knew she wasn’t trying to impress, and his crotch hardened in appreciation. When she put her hands on his shoulders, standing on her toes to bring her face to his, Tyler sucked in a breath, waiting impatiently for her to finally kiss him. Instead, she brought her lips to his ear, breathing lightly. “Thank you for tonight,” she whispered.

With that, Tyler growled and scooped her up. She yelped lightly as he tossed her on the bed. Just as he crawled on top of her, she slithered out from underneath him, rolling him over onto his back and pinning him to the bed. “Ah, ah, ah, Tyler. We’re playing by my rules.” She quickly straddled him, pressing his arms into the bed. She felt her body betray her as her inner thighs warmed at the feeling of his hard body and half-hard anatomy beneath her. As she lowered her face towards his, he quickly leaned forward, trying to catch her mouth with his. Instead, she pushed his arms into the mattress harder, tossing her head to the side so that her long voluminous mane of raven hair tumbled in his face. When her eyes landed on the two ties that were strewn at the edge of the bed, she quickly gathered them in one hand. Just as Tyler’s free hands started traversing her body, reaching for the clasp of her bra, she immediately began tying one of the ties around his wrist.

“W-what are you doing?” he stuttered in anticipation. His question hung in the air unanswered as she tied the other end to one of the bedposts. Tyler gulped as she tied the other hand. He couldn’t remember the last time he had kinky sex, let alone with someone he’d never even kissed before. Something about the look in her eye and the way she moved meant business, which terrified him, but there was something about the loss of control that excited him, in more ways than one.

When she finally finished tying him up, her movements slowed. She smiled as she admired her work, a near-nude Tyler Seguin with arms stretched across the bed, a look of both fear and eagerness in his eyes. “Kiss me,” he ordered playfully, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“No,” she replied firmly. She was terrified to kiss him. To her, kissing him would make it all real. She’d feel the warmth of his strong mouth, the press of his tongue, and if it would be as perfect and skin-melting as she imagined it to be, she’d lose all control. There was a method to her madness, and she had to follow it. With that thought, her eyes fell to his black boxer-briefs that were clinging for his skin for dear life. She dragged her fingertips down from his pectorals down the ridges of his stomach, her hand finally resting on his package.

He groaned in anguish and she rubbed her hand over his trusty and hardening friend. “Ugh, you’re torturing me, Vi.”

“That’s the idea.” When she gently slipped her hand under his boxer briefs, Tyler bit his lip and his stomach tightened. Violet nearly gaped the edges of his abs that deepened in response, and slowly felt the length of his now full erection under his shorts. His cock was smooth and hard, and just the right size for a 6’1 wall of muscle. The feeling of it in her hand made her dream of how good it would feel inside of her. Before she could complete the thought, she grabbed the waistband of his black Calvin Kleins and slid them off as tantalizingly as possible, tossing them on the floor. His dick rested against his hard stomach, and when Violet looked up at Tyler’s face, his eyes were closed tightly. She couldn’t tell if he was experiencing utter rapture or sheer agony.

She slowly placed one hand around the base of his shaft and lowered her mouth down to the head. She gently placed it in her mouth, which elicited a soft moan from Tyler. She teased his tip, softly swirling her tongue around it. As his body tensed, she gradually glided his shaft deeper and deeper. “Oh god, Vi,” he whimpered, her mouth slowly traveling up and down. The warmth and wetness of her mouth made him ache to be inside her. He lifted his head to watch, the ties around his wrists binding his movements. “Untie me, babe, I just want to...” he nearly whispered.

She shook her head with her mouth full, gazing at him, the movement of her tongue gliding back and forth against his rock-hard shaft causing him to groan. “Get up here, then.” His cock escaped her mouth with a quick pop, and she leaned upright on her knees. He was already panting, as if she was his first on prom night. “Take it off,” he demanded, motioning to her thong with his chin.

“Let’s not forget who’s in charge, Seguin.” He chuckled at her defiance, but when her bra fell from her perky breasts, he practically drooled. She straddled over him, bringing her breasts closer and closer to his mouth. Like a stubborn dog on a leash, he extended his body as far as he could to take her ample breast in his mouth. Violet gasped slightly when his tongue flicked over her hard nipple, warmth pooling between her legs. Just as he began to suck on the other, she sat upright and slid her thong off. Without a word, she straddled his face and lowered herself down his mouth. Obediently, Tyler began to slowly lap his strong tongue up and down over her clit. As she bit back the moans that were begging to escape her, she knew in that instant that Tyler was anything but a rookie.

“You like that, don’t you,” Tyler growled. Violet arched her back in response, as she was afraid that if she opened her mouth to speak, a euphoric sob would evade her instead. “Just as much as you liked me at the bar. And in my suit.” His tongue dragged harder, adding more pressure. Violet threw her head back in response, mouth gaping open. “Say it. Tell me how much you like me.”

Do something! Violet’s brain urged her. But her body was disobeying her, closer and closer to reaching the edge with each movement of his skilled tongue. The only thing she could manage to squeak out was a laboured, “No.”

“No? Well then how do you like this?” he asked, manipulating one tied-up hand enough to stick one finger inside of her while his tongue worked her clit. Her eyes clamped shut and her body rolled in ecstasy, begging for more. Tyler hummed triumphantly as his fingers gently slid in and out of her. His cock twitched at just how tight she was around only one of his fingers. “You love it. Tell me you love it or I’ll stop.”

Those words rung in Violet’s head like a siren going off. He was playing tricks with her. Tied up and bound to the bed, he was still trying to win, still trying to control every moan and every pant. She quickly hopped off of Tyler and stood beside the bed.

“Condom?” Violet asked sternly, as if on a mission.

Tyler smiled. “Pants pocket.”

As she searched for it, Tyler craned his neck to admire her naked body as it bent over his pants. “Someone doesn’t like being told what to do.”

“I could say the same thing to you,” Violet replied.

“How so?”

“You won’t take no for an answer. Everything you’ve gone through tonight is to get me to do what I’m about to do right now, but that’s still not enough for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Making me tell you how much I like you?”

Tyler rolled his eyes, trying to sit up. “Come on, it’s just for fun. I mean, you’re here with me right now, and we’re about to have sex, so you obviously like me. I just wanted to hear you say it,” Tyler replied with a smug grin.

“Why? Because I tied you up and made you feel like my plaything? Because you felt like less of a man so you needed to remind me that you’re the stud calling the shots?”

Tyler gave up on trying to sit up, the ties around his wrists not permitting him. “Can you please untie me? I don’t know what the hell you want from me or why you even came here if you were going to act like that.”

Violet cocked a hip and scoffed in disgust, sass-o-meter flying from a 5 to an 11. “You know why I even came here in the first place? I came here to stick it to you for being such an asshole to my friends. But fuck this, add being an asshole to me on the list. This seems like a pretty good way to make my point.”

When Tyler looked up and saw her completely clothed, his eyes went wide. “Wait, what are you doing? Come untie me!”

Violet sighed. “Tyler, I really thought I was starting to see something in you that wasn’t just a hot young hockey star looking for cheap thrills. But you really proved me wrong.” She gathered her coat in her hands, shook her head at him, then headed to the door.

“Violet, where the hell are you going?! You can’t just leave me here!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave the door open. Someone will find you. Maybe if you’re lucky, there’ll be a line of cute girls outside the door just itching to hop on your dick.” With that, Violet pulled the long hinge from the door lock between the door and the wall to stop it from shutting, and left the hotel room. As she trudged towards the elevator, she fought both the urge to turn back and the tears that were welling up.

- - -

Claude had his hands down Gabriel’s pants. Pants pocket, that is. “Remind me again why you’re not doing this?”

Tessa smiled down at Claude, who was seated on a couch in the lobby of the Westin Hotel. She was next to Gabe, who was conscious, but still completely out of it. After three attempts of getting him to take it out himself, it had become time for drastic measures. “I’m not doing this because you know what the room keys here look like and I don’t.”

“But you could have just as easily reached into his pocket, grabbed his wallet, then given it to me to find the room key.”

“True, but your hand’s already in there, so you might as well finish the job, if you know what I mean.” Tessa’s smile quickly turned from smirk to shit-eating grin.

Claude swiped the wallet swiftly from Gabe’s pocket and tossed it at Tessa like it was a hot potato. She giggled as she opened the wallet, trying to ignore the pictures resembling model headshots on his pieces of identification. Her potential feelings of attraction manifested themselves through jealousy. Her pictures always ended up making her look like a drug dealer.

She pulled out what looked like a room key and presented it to Claude as if it were a product on The Price is Right. He gave her a toothy grin and a quick nod. Claude leaned in towards Gabe, who was mumbling to himself in Swedish with his eyes closed. “Hey, buddy,” Claude whispered to him. “We want to get you up to your room safe and sound, so if you tell us what your room number is, we’ll get you out of this lobby where someone might see you and into your nice comfy bed. So whaddya say?” With eyes still gently shut, Gabe nodded. “Great, so what is it.”

“Fjorton femton,” Gabe replied, beginning to settle in to the couch.

Claude and Tessa blinked at each other. “One more time, bud?”

They both blinked at him expectantly, waiting for his response. His half-open eyes quickly fluttered to a close. Once again, Gabe was out like a light.

Claude quickly balled up his fists and brought them to his head. “You cannot be serious, right now.”

Tessa sighed, bringing her hand to her forehead. “He said fourtawn...something. If I had to guess I’d say that’s fourteen. We can just go to the fourteenth floor, and try the key in each door?”

Claude sighed to himself. “Alright. Fine. Just help me get him around my shoulder, will ya?”
As Tessa began to throw one of Gabe’s arms around her shoulder, Claude quickly checked his phone. He hoped to find a new text message or a missed call from Philippe, but there was nothing. He stared at the phone, willing his mind to magically make the phone buzz. However, the more he stared at the blank screen, the quicker he came to the realization that Amelie was slowly slipping through his fingers. For good.

Once they entered the elevator and reached the fourteenth floor, Claude passed Tessa the key, who started on the first door in front of her. Suddenly, Claude’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Trying not to toss Gabe onto the floor like he would have liked to in order to answer his phone as quickly as possible, he gently lay Gabe onto the carpet and yanked his phone out of his pocket. “Hello??” he shouted, causing Tessa, who had moved on to the second door, to turn her head.

“Gabe, it’s Philippe. I managed to get a hold of Amelie, but I had to tell her that I’m sick and needed a ride to get her to come back. Once she gets here and realizes that I’m fine she’s gonna take off, so you need to hurry up and get here before she does!”

“Great, okay, I’m on my way.” Claude hung up, and his eyes dashed between Tessa and Gabe as quickly as he willed his feet to carry him away from that hotel and back to the bar. “Look, I hate to leave you now, and I wish I could have helped you more, but I have some really important business to take care of, so...I gotta go. I’m so sorry.”

Tessa blinked hard. “Wait, what?”

Claude quickly hammered at the elevator’s down button. “You know the girl I was looking for? Well, I have one chance to turn things around with her, and I can’t fuck this up. I really can’t, because she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me...I’m going to fight for her or die trying.”

Tessa’s shoulders slumped. “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that.”

The subtle ding of the elevator chimed, and Claude stepped into the elevator. “It was really nice meeting you, Tessa, and I hope that one day we cross paths, so I can make it up to you.” Before Tessa could assure Claude that he’d done everything he could for her and more, the elevator doors shut.

There Tessa was, standing in silence next to Gabe, who was slowly coming to. Quickly dashing from door to door, she hoped and prayed that no one would enter the hallway and see the absolute mess that was Gabriel Landeskog. She knew if any security or hotel staff found her, she wouldn’t be allowed within 500 feet of any NHL arena on Earth.

Finally, after reaching the second-last door, the light that had been flashing red door after door lit up in green. “Thank god,” Tessa groaned to herself, practically tossing the door of its hinges when she threw it open. As she managed to get Gabe up on his feet, she dragged him like a sack of potatoes towards the bed, his body rebounding as he crumpled down into the mattress.

For a moment, Tessa took in Gabe’s hotel room. There were three suits already hanging up in the closet, his suitcase sitting neatly underneath. She stood in front of his dresser, tempted into opening them and taking a quick peek inside. What would my inner fangirl do? Tessa asked herself. She pulled the sleeve of her jacket over her hand to hide her fingerprints and gently pulled the drawers open. The top drawer was full of neatly organized and folded socks and underwear. She slammed it shut at the sight, then her gaze shot over at Gabe when the violent noise jolted him awake. He began to growl sleepily, gazing around the room as if he was clueless to how he ended up there.

Tessa panicked, silently cursing to herself – should I bolt? Should I explain everything to him? Should I pass out next to him and feign his level of drunkenness? Distracted by Gabe’s inebriation, she had totally forgotten about her own, until she was unable to put a coherent thought together. Before she could decided, she locked eyes with Gabe’s drowsy ones.
“...Tessa?”

She was frozen, breathing deeply, the room suddenly blurring. “Yeah?” was all she managed to squeak out.

“How...how did I get here?”

Tessa inched forward. “You passed out, so Claude Giroux and I carried you back here.”
“Giroux, huh?” He asked, his throat scratchy. “I’ll have to thank the bastard...unless he tried to put the moves on you,” he added with a wink.

Tessa couldn’t move.

“Come here,” he mumbled, motioning for her to approach him. She cautiously neared him, just waiting for him to lose his lunch all over her again. On the way over to him, she swiped the plastic pale from underneath the wooden desk and set it down next to him. “Stay with me?” he asked softly.

Tessa couldn’t avoid Gabe’s eyes, which were bloodshot, yet glowing blue. They pleaded for someone to comfort him through his sickness that, of both, he’d been a victim and brought upon himself. “I...I don’t know, Gabe.”

Suddenly he grinned foolishly, his eyes drooping. “Hey, you remember my name.”
Tessa giggled. “Of course I do, silly. You’re Gabe Landeskog, future captain of the Colorado Avalanche.”

His lips covered what Tessa imagined would have been a toothy grin. “See, you can’t leave now that you’re making me sound like such a stud.”

Tessa smirked. “Maybe you are a stud.”

“Hardly,” Gabe replied flatly as he propped his head up with his thick biceps.

Tessa shook her head in disbelief. Five minutes ago, he was an incoherent mess strewn across the floor. Now, he was looking up at the ceiling as if somewhere between the bumps in the popcorn ceiling, his destiny would be spelled out for him. Tessa couldn’t understand. She felt like she had just lost a huge part of herself, but when Gabe had everything going for him, he still doubted himself. Boy, this kid really is something. “Are you going to puke on me again?”

“No,” he said through a giggle. “I’m not going to puke on you, I promise. And I’m not going to hit on you, either. No repeats of the bar, I swear. I just want you to stay with me. You can sleep in that bed, there, if you want,” he said, motioning to the neatly made bed beside them.

Tessa bit her lip. She wanted to stick around, just in case Gabe really did need her help again -- but she knew she shouldn’t be sleeping in the same room as the budding NHL star.
It wasn’t Gabe controlling himself that she was worried about – she was worried about controlling herself. “Okay, fine, I’ll stay. But I’m out of here first thing in the morning like a one night stand.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied with a grin. He rolled over onto his side, propping his head up with one of those damned capable arms. “Set my alarm, will ya? 10 AM.”

Just as Tessa went to set the alarm, she noticed a picture frame on his nightstand she hadn’t even noticed before. It was a picture of what looked to be of him, his mom, dad, brother and sister all together with arms around each other and beaming smiles. They were all adorned with summer clothes and golden tans. The glass was slightly scratched and the frame looked like it had seen better days – it was definitely something he took with him everywhere he went. He wasn’t just a goofball with glowing features and the potential of a hockey god—he was a family man.

Shit, she thought to herself.

Tessa opened her mouth to ask Gabe where the picture was taken, but she quickly closed it when she noticed he’d drifted off to sleep.

- - -

After she began yawning once a minute, Logan had sent Zoe home in one of the All Star Weekend Escalade chariots. As he made his way back into the crowd of the busy bar, he noticed how the bar’s average level of intoxication had significantly increased since he’d left. He smiled at the buzz of the bar. Suddenly, people were looking at him. They were asking him for high-fives, and congratulating him on winning the Honda Accord for being picked last. Even girls were giving him the eyes.

As he approached the bar in search of Brady, he noticed there were only two bartenders behind the bar, desperately trying to cover the wall-to-wall length of drunken patrons trying to get just a little drunker. When he managed to snag the attention of the blonde, brutish bartender clad in plaid, he thumped over to Logan. “Hey man, thanks for coming out tonight, sorry if you couldn’t get a drink for a while. Every since two of our bartenders went MIA we’ve been absolutely swamped – ”

“No worries bro, I actually haven’t been inside this whole time until now. Speaking of bartenders, have you seen Brady?”

“Nah man, his girl was dancing with some dude and he lost his shit. He normally keeps his cool in a situation like that, having a smokeshow girlfriend who gets hit on all the time and whatnot...but something pretty freaking intense must have happened for him to get sent home.”

“He went home?”

“Yup, but don’t worry about Brady, he’ll be alright. So what can I get you?”

“Uh...” Talking to a 15 year old girl for over an hour made him forget all the names of every alcoholic beverage in existence. “Just a beer, man. Any beer.”

“You got it, on the house. And hey, my two friends Olivia and Rhiannon...they heard you were here and they are dying to meet you, man. Ladies!”

When Logan followed the butch bartender’s gaze, there were two gorgeous women who sauntered over towards him with wicked smiles on their faces. The girl on the left had long, flowing blonde curled hair and wore a tight royal blue dress that barely covered her up downstairs. The girl on the right, on the other hand, was barely covered up on top, her breasts spilling out of her low-cut black tube top, and her dark glossy bob shone in the dim light of the bar.

“Hey Logan, hope you’re having a good time,” the blonde purred, her voice dripping with enticement.

“Y-yeah, I am, thanks,” he replied with a quick smile.

“We’re huge fans,” the brunette chimed in. “We love hockey players.”

When they took a step towards him, Logan realized that he had subconsciously taken a step backwards. On a normal day, he would be the one on the prowl, latching on to his prey and not letting go – but the way those girls were looking at him made him feel...slimy. Since he had met Zoe, everything for him that weekend had changed. He had been to children’s hospitals before, handing out gifts with the team at Christmas, but he hadn’t met someone like Zoe. She wasn’t bedridden, destined for an early grave. She was hopeful, she was optimistic, and she was passionate about what the future held for her. Logan had heard time and time again that the light was darkest before the dawn – but for Zoe, it was shining brighter than the winter moon they had observed together that night. She wasn’t a lost soul without a voice – she was representative of a first class of people who didn’t waste one moment. It made him not want to waste a single moment by getting wasted with his buddies or hooking up with random puck sluts. It made him want to give the world to a girl who saw it the way it should be seen.

“’Scuse me ladies, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to go.”

Their facial expressions fell from sex kitten to lost puppy. “Wait, why?”

Logan was already headed for the door. “Because I’ve got another lady in my life!” Over his shoulder, he called, “and I’ve got work to do.”

- - -

Claude sprinted down Rideau Street faster than he’d pumped his legs for any shift in his NHL career. His lungs burned in the frigid January air, but he ignored the pain. He ignored all signs of stopping. Horns honked, pedestrians shouted, but Claude soldiered on. His blinders were in full effect, and he wasn’t stopping for anything until he had Amelie in his arms.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and without stopping, he slid it out of his pocket and held it up to his frozen ear. “Hello? Amelie?”

“No, it’s Philippe, hurry up! She just texted me saying she’s around the corner!”

“I’m almost there, man. Look, don’t let her leave. Just stall any way you can. I’ll be there before you know it.”

“Okay, I’ll try. Move those nice ol’ NHL legs of yours!”

Claude shoved the phone back into his pocket just as he rounded the corner onto Dalhousie. He was only three blocks away. As he ran and tried to string together a rational thought, he saw his entire relationship play back in his head like a movie – he saw all the nights they spent together watching movies and listening to music, burning with his every fiber to kiss her. The night he kissed her and lost his virginity to her. The night he proposed and watched her lithe body leave him. Reliving those memories, he knew exactly what he needed to say to her. He knew exactly how to make things right.

The lights from the bar came into sight. He quickened his pace, feeling alive. He slowed down as he reached the entrance, scooping up the sandy-hair beauty that was just making her way into the bar by the waist.

“Claude?! What the f – ”

“I’m an idiot, Ame,” he said softly, wrapping his arms tighter around her waist. He wasn’t even breathing heavy after his sprint. “I know you’re not with Philippe. I know that we both have to make sacrifices if we want to be together. I know all the things you think I don’t know, about what’s going to happen between us and what can happen between us. But in the past decade of my life I don’t think a day has gone by where I haven’t thought of you. Days from before we were together, until after we were together. From Gatineau to Philadelphia. From being a virgin to having other girls in my bed.”

“Claude – ” Amelie grunted, rolling her eyes. She pushed and tugged, trying to free herself from Claude’s iron grip, but he wasn’t letting go.

“Just let me finish. Yes, there were other girls, but I can’t even look at another girl without comparing her to you. And none of them came anywhere close. I don’t care how much doubt you have about me, or the life you’re afraid you’d live in Philadelphia. All I know is that after tonight, I can’t go on a single day in my life without you in it.” Amelie’s jaw was tight, and her eyes averted from his. The way the light hit her dark brown eyes, he could see there were tears. “I’ll do anything to make you come back with me to Philly. I’ll fly every single one of your friends out whenever you want. I’ll – I’ll...” Claude huffed in thought, his breath pausing when he remembered what Amelie had jokingly asked him to do earlier in the night.

He quickly tore of his black overcoat and tossed it on the ground. His boots followed shortly thereafter.

Amelie was still, a hand quickly covering her mouth. “Claude, what are you – ”

Shirt.
Pants.
Undershirt.

“I’ll run through the streets naked for you!” he shouted for the entire city of Ottawa to hear. “Like you wanted me to!” He galloped into the street in nothing but his socks and a pair of boxer-briefs. He spun around, banging on the hoods of cars as they slowly rolled by and honked at him. A cab full of bros starting cheering and chanting his name. “Doesn’t this make you want to be with me now? WOO!” he shouted like a maniac, doing a cartwheel on the ice-cold pavement.

Amelie’s hand was still over her mouth. She choked on a laugh as he high-fived a hobo just across the street. “C’est un vrai fou,” she said half to Philippe, half to herself. He’s gone bat-shit crazy.

“Ben, il essaie assez dur.” Philippe responded. Well, he’s trying hard enough.

Suddenly, an officer stepped out of a police car parked just up the street. He paced slowly towards Claude, his face clearly unenthused as snow crunched beneath his boots. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to put your clothes back on.”

Claude straightened up, suddenly aware of how truly cold the below-freezing air was. “Sorry officer,” he replied, quickly scurrying to the spot on the sidewalk just at Amelie’s feet where he had left his clothing. He looked up at Amelie and winked, who couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him freezing his nips off after putting on a half-drunken display in the middle of the early morning streets. The sight of his body once again, sculpted by thousands of reps and thousands of shifts, also gave her a whirr of excitement.

As Claude quickly pulled his clothes back on, he straightened up and stepped close to Amelie. “Ame, just know that I’m no different than the guy you knew in high school. Except now I’m a little richer and even more fun,” he said with a flash of his fake tooth. “Just because things get serious doesn’t mean the good times will end. They’ll only get better.” He slid on his overcoat, not breaking eye contact with Amelie. “So what do you say?”

She could practically see the hope sparkling in his pale brown eyes. She smiled weakly at him, resting her face in her hand as she watched him try to warm himself up. Once he’d done up the last button on his overcoat, she stepped close to him, placing a cold, slender hand to his chest. “I’ll think about it, okay? This is all happening so...fast.”

He traced his even colder hand over her hair, tucking a wave that was floating in the wind behind her ear. “I know, I know, but...I’m just scared, okay? I don’t want to go another two years without seeing you, Ame.”

She looked down at her expensive boots. Claude hoped it was because she couldn’t imagine it either. “I’ll give you an answer, I promise. I just don’t have one for you right now.”

Claude nodded solemnly. “Alright, I understand. I Just want you to know that...I love you, Ame.”

Amelie took Claude’s face gently in her hands and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. Her lips lingered on his stubble-covered skin, and the spot on Claude’s cheek seared in appreciation. In a flash, Amelie’s lips were pulling away as quickly as she had gotten into the cab and as quickly as it drove away.

- - -

“W-what?”

James had heard Harper loud and clear. He just needed confirmation that she had, in fact, asked him to kiss her. He hoped his senses weren’t shutting down, that they weren’t defying him and that it wasn’t the punch to the face talking. Based on the proceedings of the night, his senses shutting down seemed like the most likely of scenarios.

Harper swallowed hard, avoiding his eyes, which were glued to the three inches of bare chest his oxford was exposing. “There’s...there’s just something I need to know. About you. Because there’s something you don’t know about me.”

Thousands of images flashed through James’ mind at warp speed. Brady was secretly Harper’s brother. Harper wanted to have a devil’s three-way with him. Harper was actually a dude. Trying to avoid staring curiously at her chest at the thought, he knew there was no way she could be a guy. So what is it?

As James gazed at the thick lashes fanned beautifully across her high cheeks, at her glossy auburn hair, and at her juicy pink lips, he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was kiss them, wrap his arms around her, and make her forget Brady’s name. Caution was thrown to the wind, and his body followed Harper’s orders. They were already dangerously close, James slipping his hand behind her neck. He touched his tongue to his lips, preparing them for the sweet taste of Harper’s. His head bobbed towards hers slowly, testing the waters before he dove right in. The closer they got, the more static he felt between them. His lips millimeters from hers, he held his breath in anticipation of the static sparking into a full-blown flame.

“I...I can’t.”

James blinked. Maybe his senses were, in fact, shutting down. He thought he had just heard himself say those words to Harper, but he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have—but by the way she was slowly stepping back and gazing up at him in uncertainty, he wondered if his eyes were betraying him, too. “Why not?”

James was caught off guard by the fullness and confidence in her voice. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice, along with his gaze. “You know why, Harper.” When her hands slid from the counter, and she started to walk slowly but with determination towards the staircase, James escalated into full on panic mode. He couldn’t kiss her, but he couldn’t have this. He couldn’t have her walk away from him.

Starting to follow her, he began speaking before complete thoughts could form in his head. “Harper! It’s not that I don’t want to –"

“I was engaged,” she blurted out, stopping in place and choking on the words.

James came to a screeching halt. He was so stunned, he couldn’t have chased after her if she had kept going and fled up the stairs. She slowly turned around to face James, and he gulped at the sight of the gleam of a tear in her eye. “Engaged? But you’re...you...” Harper winced weakly. “You’re so young!”

She rubbed the back of her head, eyelashes fanning once again. “Yeah, I know. We started dating the year before he was drafted...”

James blinked hard. “Whoa, wait. Your fiancé...he’s in the NHL?”

Harper sighed, taking a few steps from James, her back facing him. “Yeah.”

“In the NHL?” James repeated in incredulity.

“...Yeah.” It was barely a whisper.

He was in complete and utter shock. Harper was engaged to an NHLer. “Who is it?” He was itching to find out the fucker’s name. The second they were both sharing the same sheet of ice together, he’d pound him to a complete and utter pulp in front of the entire nation – and it’d be all for Harper.

Harper slid her hand along the steel countertop, looking over her shoulder at James. “I don’t want to tell you.”

James deflated. “Why not?”

“Because...because it’s not important.” she shot back. “I was so excited for him when he was drafted, but not excited about the fact that he’d be playing in another city.”

“Another city, eh? So not in the US? In Canada? In the Eastern conference?”

Harper rolled her eyes, and managed to give him a small smile. “Can it, Neal. When he asked me to move with him to his city, we’d been dating for two years, and I loved him so much that I dropped out of university to go with him. After moving in, we had our problems, though, and I wasn’t sure if he was really committed to me. Before I knew it, he’d asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

James leaned against the counter. He knew the NHL lifestyle well. Especially if her ex-fiancé played for a hockey-town team, he understood how they could have had their issues. But even as she looked at the floor, slumped against the counter with a grimace on her face, he wouldn’t leave her behind for any of it.

“You probably know that the NHL life has its perks...and for a 22 year old engaged guy, that lifestyle is too hard to pass up. Just over a year ago I was headed back to Ottawa for New Years, but there was a snowstorm, so my flight was cancelled. When I got home...I found him in bed with another girl.”

James felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Even though he didn’t even know her, he couldn’t imagine someone cheating on her. He couldn’t imagine hurting her. He couldn’t imagine her as anything other than perfect. When Harper paused, clearly struggling to finish her story, James tried to put together the right words to say to comfort her. He wanted to assure her that no one in their right mind would do something like that to her. But all he could summon was, “I...I’m so sorry, Harper.”

She smiled weakly and leaned against the counter. It was a sad smile, but a genuine one. “I survived...I mean, I was upset, for a while, so I moved back to Ottawa less than a month later. Because of everything I’d given up for him my life felt like I had to start all over. I reconnected with a lot of people when I moved back, especially Brady, who’d been one of my best friends since high school. He was there for me when I needed him, so eventually we developed a really strong affection for each other. I think we started dating about four months after I got back. He was my crutch for a while, but now that I’ve moved on, things between us are different. I think we both know that we weren’t meant to be together forever, but right now we make each other happy.”

James slowly rubbed his palms together with anxiety. “What do you mean?”

“Even though everyone refers to us as boyfriend and girlfriend, we’re more like...friends who have sex.” James blood boiled just hearing her say the word, let alone at the thought of her in bed with another guy. “I think if I was into someone else, Brady would eventually be okay with it. But not you, just because of everything I’ve gone through. I didn’t want to risk being with you to end our friendship and our relationship.”

James ran a hand through his hair in confusion. “But if you didn’t want to risk anything, then why did you ask me to kiss you?”

Before she spoke, Harper looked at James as if she wished he’d never asked. She straightened up and hugged her own body. “You reminded me of him tonight. The old him.”

James’s lips parted and his heart began to pound. He reminded her of a better life, a life before everything went to complete shit because some asshole couldn’t keep his priorities straight. “Do...do you miss him?”

Harper twisted her mouth in thought. “I don’t know. Maybe a part of me misses that time in my life. But with you...maybe you were a way to remind me of what I once had. And maybe I wanted to know that even if just for one night, an NHL superstar could treat me right.”

James smiled. “Not all of us are bad guys, you know.”

Harper raised a brow at him playfully. “So good guys are the ones who kiss girls with boyfriends, right?”

James growled and threw his head back in frustration. “Can you blame me, Harper? I can’t help it. You’re just so...gorgeous, fuck! And just to remind you, I’m the one who turned you down,” he quipped with a grin. “I just had so much fun with you tonight, even when I got punched.” Harper giggled, feeling her cheeks redden. “I just wish I could get to know you better.”

His last sentence was a growl. James tangled his fingers in his hair in frustration, and Harper tried not to notice how utterly jaw-dropping he looked doing it. “Look,” he said, dropping his hands to his sides. He began to pace towards her, and her heart rate suddenly began to pick up. “Let me prove to you that I’m an okay guy. That I’m not your ex.”

“How are you going to do that?” Harper asked, leaning back on the counter with both hands, head tilting to the side.

“I don’t know...let me take you to breakfast tomorrow. Spend some time with me this weekend. I leave Sunday night. If you decide then that I’m no good, we’ll never see each other again, and you can go on with your life exactly as it was. But I really want you to give me a chance, Harper.”

She couldn’t help but giggle, touching the tips of her fingers to her lips. “But why? You don’t even know me.”

“Maybe I feel like I have something to prove. Not just as a guy in the NHL, but as a guy. I don’t want someone as amazing as you living their whole life thinking all guys are like your tool ex-fiancé.”

Harper crossed her arms and smirked at him. “So what, you want to be my friend?”

James flashed his trademark smile, touching the tip of his tongue lightly to his lower lip, and Harper was glad she had a sturdy grip on the counter behind her. She’d gone an hour without seeing that smile, and it was an hour too long. “I don’t know if I can be your friend,”
James replied to his shoes, his smile still bright. Right back at you, Harper thought to herself, taking him in. “...But I’ll try,” he continued.

“What if you get to know me, then decide you don’t like me?” Harper asked with a twinge in her stomach at the thought.

James was standing right next to her. She could feel the heat bleeding from his solid, 6-foot-2 body. His smile faded slightly, but settled in a straight line. “Impossible,” he responded softly, giving her a gentle nudge with his elbow. “And if you don’t tell me who your ex-fiancé is, someone else will.”

Harper giggled. “It’s a shame that once you find out, I’ll have to kill you...and to think, I was just starting to like you.”

James smiled bright, eyes on Harper. For the millisecond he managed to hold her gaze before biting his full lower lip and turning his goofy grin towards the floor, Harper saw it. She saw the look she used to get from her ex-fiancé – the look of freedom, the look that she was his escape from a 24/7 world of intensity, of focus, and of complete abandonment. She knew it well, and it wasn’t until that moment that she realized how much she truly missed it.

Oh, fuck.

Notes