I should have asked him to stay.

I pushed the thought away again - Jordan was in his hotel somewhere, I was awake and alone in my own bed, in the quiet after the party. It was really late and dark and it sure would have been nice to have those warm arms wrapped around me. His hug came with his kiss though, which was quickly becoming a serious threat.

I liked Jordan. Probably more than I should have after one real date and one group date. That was the thing about a crush, it was always ten steps ahead of you. My pants wanted to be ten steps away, on the floor under a pile of his clothes, but I was trying to focus on the nine steps in between. Jordan could leave any minute. He had been honest and now I would have to be smart.

Still it would have been nice to cuddle.

I wondered what Jordan thought of Oklahoma City, so far away from what he was trying to accomplish. Ryan had told me they could go anywhere in most US cities and never be recognized - that is was fun, like sneaking out of your parents house for a while. At home in Canada, people always knew them.

"Could be the TV commercials," I had joked.

I could tell my friends were not really interested in or impressed by the presence of hockey talent. You'd never know Jordan, Taylor and Ryan were rich, but you'd know if they were famous. Since they weren't famous here, they were just people. Who didn't even control their own fates.

I fell asleep wondering how badly Jordan had felt when he found out he was coming to OKC.
____

"Are you hazing frat guys now?" Samantha asked, swinging through the door into the Wild Wings kitchen. I was headed out with a tray over my shoulder.

"Would I run my own food if I were?"

She laughed, letting Dylan pass toward the reach in. "Well three freshman just asked to sit in your section, Mrs. Robinson."

It was noon on the dot. A handful of games would kick off in the next hour. I pushed into the dining room, scanning my tables in the bar section. My boss always put the girls where the most boys would be. Jordan had been looking for me. He caught my eye and grinned so dazzlingly that I nearly dropped my tray. A white Oklahoma State t-shirt was stretched across his chest. I delivered the food to a pack of burly, flirty guys a few tables away. Probably OK State alums, and big tippers if the team and I played a good game today. I gave them thirty seconds of charm before practically sprinting away.

A table asked for another round. I nodded over my shoulder even as I reached for Jordan's arm. He wasn't a big guy but he was really fit, and that shirt was pretty tight. "Hey," I squeezed his bicep - bad idea, Swoon City - and gave him half a hug. "I can't kiss you here, against the rules."

"Oh," Jordan said with obvious disappointment before catching himself, "Okay. I get it."

"Wah waaaaaah," Taylor rolled his eyes. "Any of the girls from last night here?"

I threw my other arm around the big blond's shoulder - equal distribution of attention, best practice. "Only the one who asked for Ryan's number," I said. Ryan blushed as I came around to hug him from behind. "God, Ry, the girls here are going to eat you alive."

"I hope so!" he said.

"Speaking of eating...," Taylor flipped open his menu, "the service here is terrible."

"Jeez, Canadians are so rude," I shot back. "Ry, what do you want?" He ordered a chicken sandwich and Taylor ordered three beers. I wrote down two chicken sandwiches. Jordan peered at the next table's dishes.

"That burger with the guacamole looks good," he said.

"I'll tell you what looks good," I winked at him and spun away, leaving them laughing behind me.

I loved having friends in the bar. My section filled up and even though I was busy, I never missed a chance to peek at Jordan. They watched the first half a little casually, but started getting into it as the third quarter passed. Ryan and Taylor couldn't drink and Jordan was having ice tea - they were the only sober guys in the place. People standing at the bar eyed their table like they might leave because they weren't drinking.

They had never seen hockey players eat.

"Can I order wings?" Taylor asked as I circled by. "I want to try all these sauces."

"I'll have some too," Ryan added.

"Where do you put it?" I lifted Ryan's skinny arm from his skinny side - if he weighed a hundred and fifty pounds it was a lie.

"He's a growing boy!" Taylor insisted, then slapped Jordan's shoulder. "No more for Captain Tight T-Shirt here though."

Jordan glared at his friend until I leaned into his side and hugged him around those solid shoulders. He looped an arm around my waist.

"Don't worry Taylor, Jordan asked before he borrowed this shirt from me last night," I said.

Taylor and Ryan howled. "Hey!" Jordan cried and yanked me hard against his side.

So close. Suddenly his mouth was inches from mine and the hot, searching kiss from last night jolted through my body like lightning striking between my hips. I gasped, pulled away but his hold was tight - I only managed to bounce suggestively against him before Jordan let go. The whole thing took a split second.

"St... still hungry?" I stuttered. Jordan nodded, those dark browns eyes still wide in surprise.

Ryan sucked in a loud breath through his teeth. "Gonna get weird when she has to do that for every other table now."
____

The game was good, the scenery was better. Erin wove between the bar tables - always visible, always smiling. Mine were not the only eyes that followed her. I watched her work the crowd and knew she was working it, but she was also having fun. She was flirting too, of course, but these big-necked cowboys had been around before I got here and hadn't gotten lucky.

Of course they'd be around when I left. The thought made me shudder.

We stayed through a whole game - hours and hours of being in public, yelling at the TV, with no one even looking twice. There was nowhere else we had to be. It was very... normal. "Feels like summer, eh?" I asked.

Taylor watched a girl in a midriff football jersey slither between two stools. "Feels like summer. It's weird, ya know? Like we're invisible."

"Yeah," I agreed, "it's kind of...."

"Nice," Taylor took the words out of my mouth. It was easy and relaxing and tomorrow's practice was hours away. So when Erin came by, tucking a tray under her arm so she could lean against our table, I ordered more wings.

"Don't split my shirt, Ebs," she teased, but her smirk was so sexy that I didn't care what she said.

"We don't want to take up a table and not keep ordering," I said in defense.

"And we don't want to leave. The hotel is so boring," Ryan added.

"You're not leaving and you can have all the wings you want.". Erin playfully ran her hand over my shoulder and my heart defibrillated. "If your shirt gets too tight, just take it off."

I groaned loudly and thumped my head against the table.

Despite the smile on his face, I knew Taylor wasn't going to let last night's mention of Julia drop. Not when he had a front row seat for my mooning over Erin. At least he waited till Nuge went to the bathroom before pointedly looking at his wings in silence.

"What?!" I demanded.

Taylor stayed almost still and gave me a steady, honest look that caught me by surprise. "Go easy, okay?"

"She's flirting with me!"

"Worse. She likes you."

I turned my stool toward him. "How can that be worse?"

"You're still leaving Jordan. Any minute. The more you do this, the worse it'll be."

I knew this. I was trying not to think about it... and that was easy, much to my surprise. No big team or full stadium, no one wearing my name on their backs. Things here were just simple. Take me and Erin - hot girl who seemed into me - why shouldn't I like her back? Why shouldn't I have something that felt so good?

"What if she's worth it?" I challenged him.

"That's what I'm worried about."

Ryan came back and Taylor asked about something else. Nuge had come to the team later - he knew about Julia but had not lived through it. I prefered that no one else really know how messed up I'd been.

I cried the night I left her in that hotel room. I hid my phone in the car for fear I'd answer her call, hear some shit story and take her back. When we should have been at our fancy dinner, I was in bed with the covers over my head. Someone rang the front doorbell repeatedly - it must have been Julia. Taylor would have kicked it in. I forced my feet not to touch the floor or I'd run down there.

Two days later was the next time I saw anyone. My head stayed down during practice. When I got home, Taylor's car was right behind me. I cried then too, and he just listened and let me. I almost wished he'd been with Julia so I could focus my anger on someone big enough to survive it. Taylor hadn't failed me then or since, so his words carried weight now. I was leaving. Hopefully soon.

Erin's laugh shook me out of my trance. Just as I was wondering if Taylor might be right, this gorgeous, spunky little thing appeared with a big smile and bigger platter of food. Whatever I'd been thinking disappeared.

Taylor reached for the very last sauce on the tray, the one with flames on the label. “How hot?" he asked.

“Eh, you’re about an eight,” she shrugged. Under the table she goosed my thigh. “Too bad I like brunettes.”
____

Even hockey players can only eat for so long. Around five o’clock I could tell the guys were antsy - not that they had anywhere to go. It was just as well for me not to see Jordan’s gap-toothed smile every time I turned around. My knees were permanently week and I’d licked my lips till they were sore. When I brought their check, Taylor held out a baseball cap toward me.

“Don’t look, just pick one,” he said.

Of course I picked his card. He immediately started to complain about being conned. On TV, someone scored and people cheered. The volume seemed to rise in the whole place. Then Jordan asked, “What time are you off?”

Silence. Or at least general quiet, suddenly, just in time for everyone to hear. Two guys at the next table made ‘uh oh’ faces and looked right at me.

“Smooth, Ebs,” Taylor said. Jordan, blushing like a beet, just shook his head. He couldn’t even speak. I burst out laughing and collapsed against him, the best I could do for a hug with people watching. Me falling into his side didn’t budge Jordan an inch. Instead he was just as warm and strong as before when I almost kissed his face off in the dining room. I jumped back to my feet.

“I’m off at seven,” I told him so everyone could hear, then made to walk away. “But you’re out of luck.”

“Why?” Jordan hit his cue.

Over my shoulder, nice and loud, I said, “I only date hockey players.”

The next time I passed that table, three new guys were sitting there. Two separate tables asked if I was busy after seven. Luckily, the hour arrived quickly. I cashed out my checks, counted my cash and did the paperwork for wrapping up a shift. At seven twenty, I walked out the door. My phone rang immediately.

“Hey,” I was already laughing. It was obviously Jordan.

From outside, not through the phone, I heard, “Hey!”

Jordan leaned against the drivers side door of his rental car, that Oklahoma State t-shirt looking as good as ever. He smiled and my feet picked up speed. Inside the restaurant, I understood the rules. Out here I could do whatever I wanted. I scurried up to Jordan and kissed him like I’d wanted to all day, wrapping my arms around his neck and getting all of him. The last time we’d kissed was in my apartment, a goodbye that almost turned into a really good night. The way Jordan pushed his hands through my hair, I knew he was thinking about it too.

“Is this weird?” he asked when our lips finally parted.

“You waiting outside my work and watching for me? Not at all,” I joked. He smiled shyly, like he’d actually considered it scary. “Jordan, I was going to call you.”

“And I was going to ask you out.”

“I was going to say yes.”

“Then I was going to pick you up.” His clasped hands settled comfortably at the small of my back. The chest that had been working that t-shirt all day was no lie. Jordan wasn’t tall but he was solid as a rock.

“So you’re just fast forwarding,” I suggested. The lack of space between us, the taste of Jordan on my lips... we’d only skipped a few pages, I wanted to skip to the end.

“It’s different than stalking,” he nodded eagerly.

I let go before I ended up pants-less in the parking lot. On my way around to the passenger side, I said, “Maybe in Canada.”

I navigated us to the nearest movie theater. We got tickets for the next show of Taken 2 and had to climb over people to the middle of a row in the crowded theater. Jordan put the armrest between us up, but all he did was reach for my hand. I settled in close and balanced our joined hands on top of my leg. We both watched as they slid down, and I shifted until they rested comfortably against my inner thigh. Or as comfortable as I could be with his hand between my legs. Jordan’s fingers squeezed.

“We should have picked an empty movie,” he whispered.
_____

The second the lights went down, I kissed Erin. There was no tongue or moaning or any of the other things I really wanted to do, but it would have to get me through. At least I was with her, touching her, inhaling whatever soft scent she’d put on when she changed. Five hours of watching her in the restaurant had been torture. A whole row to ourselves and there’s no telling what I might have done. This way she pressed against my side and let our hands move another inch north toward Canada.

I quickly changed my mind about seeing a different movie. This one had jumps and scares that magically moved us closer together - her bent knee slid up over mine, she pressed in to bury her face in my shoulder. We were comfortably twisted up because there was no place else to go. During a tense part, Erin started rubbing a circle into my palm with her thumb. All my attention instantly diverted to the rhythm and pressure of her stroke; the steady force of her push; the tiny, tingling drag of friction. I closed my eyes and exhaled deeply.

Erin froze, then giggled. “Sorry,” she breathed.

“Liar.”

The storyline only required half of my brain. The other half wandered into unavoidable territory: how much I liked Erin, how much I wanted to make this more serious and quickly. That immediately flipped over into wanting to wait, so Erin would know I wasn’t just chasing tail. But how much time did I have? A potentially great year of the career I’d spent my life working toward was disappearing beneath my feet like quicksand. If Erin was the consolation, part of me wanted to drown.

By the end, I had worked myself into a funk. It only made me more upset to waste a moment with her being in a bad mood. Much like a long night when you can’t sleep - I got worked up and pushing relief even farther away. When Erin linked her arm through mine to work our way out of the crowded Saturday night theater, my muscles were all tense. I was ready to take her right home and get started now against our ticking clock.

“You okay?” she pushed her fingers under my sleeve, over the sensitive skin of my bicep. I wanted her to do that, both hands at once, while she on her back underneath me.

“I....” I don’t know what I was going to say. Her eyes were so blue that all the frustration drained right out of me. I couldn’t rush this girl, couldn’t risk hurting her. I would not be that guy.

“I’m fine,” I managed to say.

Without discussing it, I drove Erin back. It was after ten o’clock and any activities beginning now would go until morning. I parked next to her car in the Wild Wings lot and got out to kiss her goodbye. It almost ruined whatever defense I’d reconstructed. I twisted my tongue into hers like I could show her how good we would feel together. Her hands roamed my chest, making that tight t-shirt worth it’s weight in gold. She used the car for leverage to press against me, one thigh slipping between my legs. My thumbs cheated underneath the hem of her shirt until I found the soft bare skin of her stomach. When I rubbed, Erin flinched and said the worst possible thing.

“I’m ticklish,” she whispered.

Already lightheaded, I almost fainted with the knowledge that I could make her writhe, give her goosebumps, render her helpless if only I could get to the situation where my hands and her body got properly acquainted.

Erin laughed. Her breasts bounced against my chest and her stomach rose and fell gently, those lines along her abs defining themselves beneath my thumbs. I hid my twisted expression in her hair and groaned loudly.
____

Plaster. Paint. Chocolate. Things that, when poured over a form, fit and stuck the way Jordan did to me when we kissed. I was heady and shameless after two hours of trying not to jump him in the movie theater. I wasn’t ready to take him home , despite the ache in my body, so I waited till we were outside the car before letting him kiss me. It boiled over anyway. One pass of his slightly rough thumbs along the waistband of my jeans and I was shuddering.

I got a hold of his arms, bracing myself for their strength, and pushed him back an inch. He peeled slowly off like a sticker trying not to tear.

“I should go,” I said.

He nodded. “I have practice in the morning.”

We looked at each other, waiting for the other to walk away first, or say fuck it and make a rash, exhilarating, up-all-night decision. Jordan was the first to step back.

“Night, Erin.”

I left plenty of room between us as I passed toward my car. Only when I was shut inside with the radio did I ask him, “Why are you leaving?”
____

I held on until Erin was in her car. Then I turned my back, opened my door and asked out loud, “When am I leaving?
____