I woke up to the sound of scratching at my makeshift bedroom door, immediately feeling the after effects of last night’s alcohol. When did I start getting hangovers from just a few drinks? I must be getting old. I tried to get up before realizing I was tangled up in my bed sheets, and I fell directly onto the floor as a result. My head was pounding even harder now, and all I wanted to do was go back to sleep. I looked over to my clock that showed it was only 5:57 in the morning. As any dog owner will tell you, when you get to sleep is no longer your decision when you have dog. I knew I had to let Napoleon out, so I forcefully removed the sheet wrapped around my stomach and left leg before being able to stand up. I cracked the sliding screen door open only to have it shoved back by my anxious dog.

“Yeah, I know Leon. We’re gonna go out. Just let me put on my shoes and your leash,” I whispered at him. As I was towed towards the front door by Napoleon, I took a quick glance over at Jon, still asleep on the couch. He must’ve woken up at some point because he was no longer wearing his button down shirt. I blatantly stared, thankful that I could get the opportunity to ogle him without him knowing. Okay, that’s enough mental pictures, Gi.

Napoleon rushed out the door, down the stairs, and towards his little patch of brown grass. Finally relieved, he started to take his time observing his surroundings, trying to pull me towards a wayward squirrel eating breakfast. I decided to take advantage of already being out of bed to grab some coffees. I headed towards my favorite café with Napoleon by my side.

---

I tried to enter my apartment as quietly as possible incase Jon was still sleeping, but I was having a tough time turning the knob while having a tray of coffees in one hand and Napoleon’s leash in the other. I eventually made it in to find Jonathan sitting up on the couch, watching Sports Center, and still shirtless. I almost dropped the tray of drinks at the sight.

“Hey, good morning! I was wondering where you two went off to,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at me. My wide-eyed expression must’ve made him realize why I was staring and not responding. “Oh, sorry. I kinda just woke up and saw that you were gone. I didn’t even think—,” he started to grab his shirt as I turned away, blushing. This isn’t your first rodeo, Gi. Pull it together!

“No, don’t worry about it. It’s fine! I wish I could’ve given you something more comfortable to sleep in, but I don’t think my yoga pants and tank tops would fit you,” I joked, hoping to bring myself back to normalcy. He stopped trying to work the buttons into their holes, leaving his shirt on but hanging open. “Here, I got us some coffee while I took Napoleon out for a walk.” He recognized the symbol on the coffee cup sleeve and smiled.

“I love this place. They really do make the best coffee. But, we both already know that,” obviously referring to our first legitimate run-in. I nodded, taking a sip of the hot drink, and took a seat next to Jon on the couch. Sports Center was showing two correspondents argue over the greatness of Michael Jordan and LeBron James. Again. How much more can this dispute go on?

We both got caught up in the show, and I didn’t realize I had slipped under the blanket with Jon until my thigh was against his. I immediate froze, not sure if he might take it as a sign that I was making a move on him. I didn’t want to come off as being too forward; that just wasn’t me. He chuckled a bit and switched his coffee from his right hand to his left, putting the now-free arm behind me and pulling me next to him. Damn, this was way too comfortable… I can’t fall back asleep now. Must. Stay. AWAKE. Quick! Bring up something to talk about!

“So, Jon, got any big plans for today?”

“Why? Trying to get me out of your apartment, Gi?” I kept my focus on the TV, hoping to obstruct his view of my bright red cheeks.

“No, not at all! Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t keeping you from something.”

“Well, we’re leaving for Detroit later tonight, but I’m basically all packed.” I swear he moved closer. Was that even possible?

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to sleep in. I’m sure you’re still exhausted from yesterday. Speaking of playing hockey, how did it feel after having an adjustment?”

“Actually, I felt really good. I’m considering having regular appointments.” The thought of seeing Jonathan consistently was looking like a great idea to me. At that moment, his phone started to ring, signaling a call. He apologized and stood up to answer it in the kitchen.

“Hey, it’s Kaner. He and Sam were wondering if we wanted to catch some breakfast together. Wanna go?” He had a hopeful expression playing across his features, and I felt like it would be impossible to say ‘no’ to that face. But who was I kidding? I didn’t want to say ‘no.’

“Yeah! Sounds great! Let me put on some other clothes really quickly,” I said while practically running into my bedroom to change. I put on a comfy, casual Saturday outfit and fixed my hair into a nice ponytail. When I came back out, Jon was completely dressed, shirt buttoned, and shoes on. I grabbed my purse, keys, and phone, and we said goodbye to Napoleon after pouring his kibble into his food dish and locking the door behind us.

---

Once we were outside, I realized just how awkward we looked together. I was in super casual clothes while Jon was wearing a very nice button-down shirt, blazer, dress slacks, and dress shoes. This looked bad, clearly giving off the appearance of a one-night stand.

“Um, would you want to change into other clothes before we go? It might be more comfortable for you. And we wouldn’t look so strange together,” I tried to say in a joking tone, throwing a smile in Jon’s direction. “I wouldn’t mind the delay, really.” I wasn’t ready to give up our one-on-one time yet.

“Actually, yeah. That’d be great. I’m just a few blocks this way.” We headed towards his apartment, which ended up being more like a skyscraper than an apartment. I was getting very curious to see just how a professional athlete in Chicago lives. We walked past the security guard and into the elevators. Jon hit one of the top floors.

“So, what do you think so far?”

“Are you kidding? You actually live here? I don’t think I’ve ever been in an elevator that’s as elegant as this one.”

“Well, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he chuckled as we stepped out of the elevator. It led directly into short hallway and a private suite. As soon as he opened the door, I was speechless; his place was so big and modern. And clean. Impressive, to say the least.

“Feel free to look around while I change.” I barely heard him, lost in my own thoughts about the beauty of his apartment. I’ve never even stayed in a hotel that was this fancy before. I wandered from the kitchen full of stainless steal appliances to the living room, which was set down about three steps to give it a close, cozy feeling. I looked at some pictures placed on a shelf; there were ones of his family, some goofy ones with teammates, and one with him hoisting the Stanley Cup from their 2010 championship season. Man, am I really here right now? In Jonathan Toews, captain of the Chicago Blackhawks, apartment? It was a little surreal.

I went over to some curtains that were a little open in the center only to find a huge circular balcony behind them. I couldn’t resist going out. It was over looking Lake Michigan, and the sun warming me up felt wonderful, despite the cold wind. I stood for a while, arms crossed and eyes closed, just letting it all sink in. Large arms were suddenly wrapped around my own, and a solid body was pressed against my back. Damn, that felt good.

“Jon, your place is just amazing. It’s beautiful, really. Your apartment is beautiful, this view is beautiful, and—,” I stopped talking as I was spun around to face him, looking up into his warm, whiskey colored eyes.

“And you’re beautiful,” he said with sincerity evident in every syllable. His lips crashed onto mine, and I pushed into the kiss, taking all that he would give. I reached my hands up to the back of his head and grasped at his hair, standing on my tiptoes to get even closer. His hands moved down to my back, pressing his fingers into my skin and leaving his mark.

He turned us both around and walked me backwards so that my back was against the glass door. My mouth opened to let a moan from the wonderful feeling of pressure against my own body, and he took advantage of the moment by sliding his tongue across my bottom lip. My response was instinctual, and I danced my tongue over his. This is what being on drugs feels like. It has to be. Nothing could be better than this surge of want, need, and skin. I needed to get more skin, more contact with him. My hands made their way to the bottom of his t-shirt, slipping under to feel those solid muscles tense from my touch. He let out a low growl at feeling my palm flatten against his stomach.

Suddenly, it was gone. There was no skin, anywhere, connecting us. Jon had taken a large step backwards, breathing heavily. I found I was doing the same, but I was still pressed up against the glass, trying to use it to keep me from sinking to the ground.

“If I didn’t stop us now, we definitely wouldn’t be making it to breakfast.” His voice was low and gravely. He had a look of pain on his face, and I almost asked out loud if I could ease that ache for him. However, I caught myself before speaking.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said, hearing my own low timbre. Was that really my voice? “Sorry about that.”

“Oh, no. Don’t apologize. Just promise me a rain-check.” A smirk had taken the place where a slight frown had been as he said it.

“Believe me, that rain-check is all yours, honey.”

Notes