I had to move, but I couldn’t. I tried to lift my arms, my legs, my body, but my efforts were useless. I turned my head to look up and found myself under an elephant. I started to panic, trying to squirm out from under the large, gray animal. He turned his head back towards me, flapping his big ears with an air of annoyance.

“Could you not do that,” he asked in a deep, raspy voice. I stopped my movements out of shock. That giant elephant on top of me just spoke, and I understood every word. I started to shake my head, feeling my body and senses come out of a fog. I blinked a few times, seeing overlaying shadows of a very dark room.

Right, Jon’s room. And Jon, rather than an elephant, was sprawled across me, one arm curled under me grasping my stomach, pinning my back to the mattress we shared. I wiggled my right arm free from its prison and proceeded to poke Jonathan’s shoulder.

“Jon, as much as I enjoy this close proximity between us, my entire body has pins and needles going through it right now from a lack of circulation.” He grumbled incoherently at me, tucking his face into the crook of my arm. “No, you can’t ignore me, buddy. Scoot!”

He rolled off of me to his own side of the bed, and the pain from everything that had fallen asleep shot through me with increased intensity. I yelped out loud from the sudden stings, cringing and tensing everything involuntarily to try to stop the waves of pain pouring over me.

“Shit, Gianna, are you okay,” he asked, suddenly in panic mode and sitting straight up in bed, towering over me.

“Yeah, just… don’t touch me yet.” I tried to lay still with my eyes screwed shut and deal with the sharp pain of my muscles suddenly getting bombarded by nerve signals. Gradually, the pain turned to a dull ache, and I was able to look up again. Jon was still perched above me, obvious worry showed in his crinkled brow. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting it to be that bad.”

“No, it’s my fault. Apparently, I can’t help but crush you in my sleep. I’m sorry.” I sat upright in the bed, scooting myself back against the headboard to lean on something.

“Well, it’s not like you can truly crush me or that you do it on purpose. You’re just… a serious cuddler, I guess.” His eyes went wide with shock.

“What? No. That’s not me. I do not cuddle.” I deadpanned. Was he joking right now? What did he think just happened?

“Jon, I just woke up from you squeezing the breath out of me because you were holding me so tightly. And this isn’t the first time either.” I had crossed my arms over my chest in stern defiance. “Stop trying to be macho about it. There’s nothing wrong with cuddling.”

“No, I’ll never admit to it.” He matched my position, arms crossed. We just glared at each other for a while. Then, he attacked me, trying to tickle me into submission. “Say it! Say I’m not a cuddler,” he cried out over my laughter and screaming.

“Ahahahhaaa, Jon! Stop! You’re—you’re not a, a, a cuddler!” Grateful to be released, I made my escape as quickly as I could. I jumped from the bed and headed towards the bathroom. Just before I closed the door, I yelled back, “Nope, still a cuddler!”

“Gianna, take it back!” Jon lunged from the bed only to have the door locked in front of his face with my laughter escaping from within.

---

April was finally upon us, and the city of Chicago was starting to bloom into spring. Flowers were showing up everywhere, and not just outside. I received my third bouquet from Jonathan within a week and a half. Each one was attached with another apology.

‘Sorry about the plane delay, storms in Nashville – see you soon!’

‘Sorry I missed your call last night, team bonding went later than expected – miss you.’

‘I’m so sorry, Gianna – I’ll make it up to you.’

The last one was in reference to him cancelling a date we had planned. It wasn’t anything terribly special. We were going to cook dinner together at his apartment since he had said he rarely ever used his big, fancy appliances. Yet, another press conference had been suddenly scheduled for Jon and his teammates to, once again, talk about their current win streak and the playoffs that were just a few weeks away.

I wasn’t naïve; I knew that this time of the season took on a more intense speed because every point was needed to try to keep Chicago in their high position in the Western Conference to place well in the playoffs. But I couldn’t help be feel hurt that another date had to be pushed aside for hockey. I knew it would happen, but I didn’t want it to happen now, so soon after we had started truly being together. I was desperate for his undivided attention, and I didn’t like the feeling of wanting a man so much without seeing similar feelings from his part.

Clearly, Jonathan felt bad about it. Between the flowers, text messages, and voicemails I had received, I wasn’t sure he could have said, “I’m sorry,” in more ways than he already had. The worst part was that I knew that this was just the beginning. Come playoff time, there is nothing else but hockey for him. No distractions, no interruptions. He had a team that looked up to him, and Jonathan never backed down from his responsibilities.

And I didn’t want him to do anything to the contrary. As depressing as it was, I knew that the way he took care of his teammates and put all of his effort into making the team the best it could be were some of the qualities that made him attractive to me. So, there was no way I could ask him to lower the standards he had set for himself. I would have to find a way to deal with it. I just didn’t know how to that, yet.

Notes