Dr. Lance, Sam, and I were walking into the United Center before the Friday night game, and everyone around us was catching that excited feeling that comes from going to a Blackhawks event. The music was pumping loudly, videos about the players were flashing on the Jumbo Tron, and I was able to grab a beer and popcorn just before the lines got too long at the concession stands. Oh yeah, I was definitely getting a good feeling about tonight.

“So, Gianna, why aren’t you wearing your Toews jersey tonight? I figured you’d be showing that off to a certain professional hockey player that you just so happen to know on a first name basis,” questioned Sam as soon as I sat down next to her. I gave her an eye roll before taking a large gulp of my beer. Dr. Lance, being the older gentleman that he is, graciously decided to use this moment as his escape from “girl talk,” leaving me without protection from Sam. He excused himself to use the restroom before any action started.

“Honestly, oh, geez.” I paused for a moment, wondering if I should even give her the truth. “This is going to sound so dumb. I guess if I see him tonight, which I highly doubt would happen anyway, I didn’t want him to think I’m some crazy, stalker, fan girl. I have plenty of other Hawks apparel, so it wasn’t a big deal.”

“But you’ve owned that jersey for years!” She made a good point; I remembered telling Sam I bought it the season he was named captain. “I doubt he’d think that of you. From the way he was looking at you in the office, I’m thinking you should be worried about him becoming some crazy, stalker, fan boy.” We both cracked up into fit of laughter, almost spilling my popcorn onto the floor in the process. Dr. Lance came back right then, three beers in his hands.

“Dr. Lance, I’m not even done with this one yet!”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. It’s not going anywhere. And now, you don’t have to miss anything when you finish your first one.” He handed one to Sam and one to me before taking a sip of his own. And with that, the players from Chicago and Columbus both started to do warm-ups. Our seats were just a few rows from the glass behind the home bench, so the view was amazing. Just as I took a large drink from my beer, hoping to finish it quickly before my new one got warm, I noticed Jonathan look up towards us. Dr. Lance and Sam were both excitedly waving, trying to make sure he knew it was his chiropractic crew up here. He sent us a smile and a wave, and I swear I saw a wink directed at me. I started choking on my beer, coughing like an idiot.

“Whoa there, Gianna. Don’t make us leave the game to take you to the hospital,” Sam said while patting me on my back, trying to help.

“Thanks, no, I’m fine, really. It just tried going down the wrong pipe for a second. Hey, we gotta stand up! The National Anthem is about to start.” We all cheered our way through the song, getting the entire United Center hyped up. After a quick pre-game video on the Jumbo Tron, the puck was on the ice, and it was hockey time.

---

In the end, the Chicago Blackhawks won 4-3 in overtime against the Columbus Blue Jackets. I had never been at a game that went to overtime, and I was anxious the entire extra period. Nevertheless, all three of us had some drinks, some food, and plenty of laughs before the end of it. I found myself feeling even more grateful for the people that I work with; it was nice to get along with coworkers when you’re at the office, but it’s awesome when you can have a friendship with those people outside of work, too.

After the final horn blew, we stayed in our seats to let others rush out of the Madhouse on Madison before us. Sam and I had talked about hitting up a bar after the game, and Dr. Lance decided he’d wait with us a while before driving home to let the crowd thin out. We talked about Coach Q jumping up in celebration after the first goal had been scored towards the end of the first period, how awesome Sharpie’s game tying goal in the second period was, and how amazing Emery played through the sudden death overtime to ensure our victory.

We found ourselves talking and walking, following other stragglers out into the Chicago night. The air was a cold slap to my face, but my beer jacket was nice enough that I didn’t feel the full blast. We said goodbye to Dr. Lance, telling him to give his wife, Janet, our “hellos” once he got home, waving as he made his way to his car. I looked over at Sam, who had an excited, devilish grin plastered on her face.

“So, my dear, where are we off to?”

“Oh, come on, Gi! We’re obviously going to The Pony! It’s where the Blackhawks players go after games. Don’t act like you didn’t know.” In reality, I didn’t know. I had only been living in the city for a few months, and in that time frame, Sam and I had only been out clubbing a handful of times. I wasn’t up-to-date with my “this is the pro-athlete’s place to be” bars, yet. I just gave Sam a shrug and let her lead the way.

---

I was standing at the bar, waiting for the bartender to return with my drinks and change when I felt a hand against my lower back and a deep voice chat into my ear.

“I’m glad we both had the same idea tonight.” I looked over to a man I didn’t recognize wearing a red Blackhawks t-shirt. He was handsome, and he clearly knew it. That’s fine with me; I can’t fault a guy for taking care of himself and reaping the benefits.

“And what idea was that,” I questioned while pocketing my change and grabbing the beers for Sam and I. I threw a smirk in for good measure.

“Clearly, we’re both Hawks fans trying to get a drink after an awesome overtime win. So, we should be celebrating together.” He gestured over to some buddies at a table towards the door, and they nodded at us.

“Thanks, but I’ve got someone waiting on this beer, so maybe later?”

“You bet, stop by anytime.” As he was walking away, he looked back at me once more and gave me a wink. What was with guys winking at me tonight? Did I have a sign on my forehead that read, “One wink and I’m yours,” or something?

As I pondered the winking phenomenon while walking back to Sam, I realized our little table had gotten a few more people around it. Tall people. Big, tall men, to be exact. It was Andrew Shaw, Patrick Kane, Patrick Sharp, Duncan Keith, and Jonathan Toews chatting up little Miss Samantha. God, she would hate it if I called her that out loud.

“Well, it looks like you’re completely satisfied and entertained, Sam, so I think I’ll keep these two beers and go sit with my new friends.” My previous drinks had apparently helped to fully dispel any of the nervousness I would usually have around professional athletes.

“What new friends,” Sam and Jon both blurted out together. I gestured with my head towards the door since my hands were still full. The guys at the far table seemed to be realizing just whom I was talking to now.

“Hey, how could you ditch us? I mean, we haven’t even been properly introduced yet,” said Sharpie with an exaggerated pout.

“Uh, right. Well guys, this is Dr. Gianna—,” I cut Jon off at the use of my title.

“Oh, no. Not when I’m not in the office. I’m Gianna, or Gi, if you’d like. And I know each and every one of you, so no need to state your name.” The guys just shrugged and chuckled, appearing pleased to not have to go through formalities. “And I can assume you’ve already met Sam, then. I’m sure she flagged you boys down as soon as she spotted you.”

“Actually, I was obliviously checking my text messages when Jon brought everybody over. And now you’re here! So let’s party! Hey, hand over the beer, Gi.” I did as I was told and took the seat directly across from my friend, which placed me between Shawzie and Kaner. The conversation flowed back to whatever the group had been chatting about before my arrival. I jumped in every once in a while, but I found myself distracted by Jon. He was constantly catching my eye, making me look over just to discover him staring at me.

Kane got up at one point to buy everyone a round of shots, and Jon used that as his opportunity to conveniently trade seats. He was smiling and laughing, clearly enjoying his night out, and I was definitely feeling the same. I found myself trying to count how many drinks I had consumed throughout the night, but I lost track after the three at the game and the first one at the bar. Not good, Gi.

“So, Gi, not that I don’t like your sweater, but I’ve been thinking you’d look even better with a ‘19’ on your back,” Jon said, waggling his eyebrows up and down as he said his number. I started dying of laughter from his obvious attempt at flirting. It was charmingly awkward, funny, and very well received.

“Actually, Johnny, I do have a jersey with your number on it. I just decided I’d rather not wear it tonight, that’s all.” I was hoping he wouldn’t press the issue, but then Sam decided she needed to spill the beans.

“That’s not true! She didn’t want you to think she was a sta—,” I quickly reached out my hand to cover Sam’s mouth from across the table. Thankfully, Patrick had just returned with the shots.

“Why don’t you just drink up, Sam. Cheers everyone!” I raised my mini glass and we all toasted each other before downing the neon green liquid. The watermelon flavor burned its way down my throat, but I quickly took a swig of my beer to erase the feeling. I looked back up at Jon before excusing myself to use the restroom.

I was making my way towards the back of The Pony, immediately regretting the shot as the alcohol as I started to feel my buzz now that I was standing. A hand wrapped around my right wrist before I could make it to the ladies’ room and pulled me backwards. It was the guy from earlier at the bar, but he had clearly had more drinks than me. His eyes were glazed over and starting to become bloodshot.

“Hey, why didnn ya tell me ya knew da Hawks, eh? Least ya could’ve done wasss invited uss over,” he slurred, his hand tightening more.

“Hey man, let go of me. I’m just trying to go the bathroom.” I was pushing against his grip to no avail, using my free hand to try to pry his fingers off of my wrist that was really starting to hurt.

“Buddy, I think you should let go of her now before you get yourself kicked out.” Jon had appeared behind the man, gripping his shoulder tightly. The guy must not have recognized him, or just didn’t even look at him because he tried to shrug him off.

“Fuck off, man. We’re jusss talkin’, is all.”

“Yeah, not any more you’re not.” And with that, Jon had turned the guy around so quickly that he couldn’t maintain his hold on my wrist. He took the man to the nearest bouncer, and I watched him get forcefully removed from the bar. Jonathan came back to where I stood, not moving my original spot, his eyes full of concern.

“Are you okay? Did that guy hurt you? Man, I was this close to punching that douche bag in the face.” He demonstrated by holding his thumb and index finger very close together. I was still a little in shock from the whole scene that just happened, and my response was delayed.

“Uhh, yeah. I’m fine, I think.” I moved my left hand in a circular motion around my roughed up wrist. It felt a little tender, but nothing that bad. “That’s enough excitement for me for tonight. I think I’d better head home.”

“Let me walk you back. Or we can grab a taxi or something.”

“Oh, that’d be nice. Thanks,” I said with a shy smile. Suddenly, the thought of having Jon so close to me was making me nervous again. We walked back to the table, I grabbed my purse, and said goodbye to everyone. I made sure the guys knew Sam needed to make it home safe, giving them the best serious face I could muster under the influence of alcohol.

“Don’t worry, Sam and I were already talking about those arrangements. She’ll be safe,” said Kane with a smirk. I rolled my eyes at him, and pointed my finger at Sam.

“Text me when you get… well, where ever you end up. Text me!” Jon and I started making our way towards the door, his hand guiding me from my lower back. We burst out into the night, and I immediately felt chilly. The bar was at least ten degrees hotter than it should have been, so the temperature outside felt extra cold. I told Jon what street I lived on, and he decided we’d better take a cab.

We flagged down a taxi in a relatively short amount of time, which was good because all I wanted to do at this point was drink a huge glass of water and pass out on my bed. Jon and I sat right next to each other, and he put his arm around me. I must’ve leaned over and fallen asleep since I don’t remember the cab ride, just Jon telling me we were here while he paid the fare. We both got out, and my mind started to function again.

“Oh man, I didn’t even think to ask if you live far away. Or if you drove and now your car’s left on some Chicago street by the bar, just waiting to get broken into. Shoot.” I couldn’t control the ramble that started. He just shook his head and smiled down at me.

“I didn’t drive; I caught a ride with Keith to the bar, so don’t worry about that. And I can always take another cab home. If it weren’t so late, I’d probably just walk. I live a few blocks away from your place, actually.”

“Well I definitely don’t want you to walk home, even if you are a big, tough hockey player. You could just stay here?” I looked down at my feet as I said that last question, too nervous to look Jon in the eye.

“If you don’t mind me crashing on your couch, I’d love to stay. I’m pretty exhausted, to be honest, and we have to travel tomorrow for our next game. I’d probably leave before you’re even awake in the morning.”

“Oh! Of course! Yes, you can definitely stay on the couch! I just have to introduce you to Leon and make sure he’s okay with it.”

“Wha—, wait, Leon? Who’s Leon?” Jon was suddenly looking very confused at the mention of needing my dog’s approval. If Napoleon has ever met a person he didn’t like, I’ve never witnessed it. But, hey, you should never trust a person that a dog doesn’t like. At least, according to my grandpa… I realized Jon still needed an explanation.

“Leon, or actually his real name is Napoleon, is my mutt of a dog. Honestly, he’ll probably prefer to sleep out by you than back with me. He loves everybody.”

“Oh, good. I thought it was your boyfriend or something,” he said, relief evident in his tone of voice. I just laughed, shook my head, and grabbed Jon’s hand, starting to pull him towards my front door. I had already retrieved my keys from my purse during our conversation, so I got us into the building quickly. Jon laced his fingers through mine and didn’t let go until we reach my apartment door, taking the keys from me and helping me unlock it.

Napoleon had been waiting right inside the door, and he eagerly went up to Jon to introduce himself, doing a few spins and half jumps. Jon laughed and gave Leon a scratch behind the ears. The dog quickly leaned into the big hand, silently saying “More! Pet me more!” We both took off our shoes and made our way to the kitchen.

As Jonathan was indulging my dog’s request, I grabbed two glasses of water for us both. Once I handed his over to him, I went to go wrangle up some spare pillows and blankets, setting them on the couch. Thank goodness it was so long otherwise Jon probably wouldn’t fit. Wait, maybe he won’t fit. Maybe I should offer him my bed instead.

“Um, Jon, I was thinking that you should take the bed, actually. I’m a lot smaller, and can easily fit on the couch.” He looked up from Napoleon, who had coerced Jon into belly rubs, and just shrugged at me.

“Anywhere’s fine, really, Gianna.”

“That settles it then. You get the bed.” I held up my hand as he started to open his mouth to protest. “Nope, it’s done. Don’t worry; Leon’s bed is back there anyway. He’ll love the attention. Let me just change into some sweats, and then the bedroom is all yours.”

“Okay, thanks again, Gi.” I quickly changed my clothes, did my nighttime bathroom routine, and made my way back into the living room within ten minutes. Apparently, that was just too long for the tired hockey player. Jon had already passed out on the couch after turning the TV on. I quietly turned off the news playing on the screen and pulled the blanket out from under his feet to spread over him. Napoleon had taken up a spot right in front of the couch, like I had predicted he would. I left the two boys and finally passed out in my own bed.

Notes