Swipe

All was quiet in Elle’s upscale apartment. The lights were low, the heat was set at 60, and the bed was neatly made. On the chair placed for strategic summer sunshine, a lone neck tie lay forgotten by its owner. The closet was half-sorted into boxes overflowing with clothes. The summer gear was gone already, safely packed away in a suitcase a country away.
A couch with a too-tall back held the imprints of two bodies, a blanket tossed aside with careless feet. A pair of coffee mugs also sat abandoned, long-forgotten in the haste to collect necessities and be on the most convenient flight to DFW.

The answering machine was the only activity other than the soft hum of the refrigerator. The antiquated messaging service had been a housewarming gift from the apartment owner’s mother. Said mother also paid for the landline and was the only one that had the number.

The analog display flashed 8 unread messages.

Somewhere in the apartment, buried in the spare closet where she wouldn’t hear it unless she was really listening, the landline rang.

And rang.

And rang.

“Hey. You’re reached Elle. I’m not around now, because I have an actual job that requires me to be away from home. I also have a cell phone. Which you are free to use, Mother.”

“Eleanor Rebecca Merchant. You will pick up the phone, right this instant. You will pick it up because I have tried your cell and I have tried to text and I even called that obnoxious woman from next door. You will pick up and you will let me know why you are avoiding me or I will-“

The sound of shuffling and an irritated huff echoed in the empty apartment.

“Oh. You just texted. Dallas? DALLAS!? For Christ’s Sake. Oh Lord now I’m swearing too. What in the world are you doing in Dallas? You know what, I don’t even want to know. I expect a proper phone call once you get back home. If you get back home. Just call me, child.”

-------

Elle watched the Stars take the ice for their last pregame home skate of the season, from behind the glass of the Zamboni doors. She was on the far end of the ice from the team, but Jamie was easy to spot. Mostly because he skated to center ice and looked for her before he began his last laps before puck drop. He raised a glove and gave her a goofy grin through his mouth guard.
Elle’s fingers wiggled back at him in response and he ducked his head as he skated away. She blushed a little at the sweetness of the exchange and tried to stifle the huge grin threatening to spread across her face.

It had only been a week since she’d lost her job. A week where she’d enjoyed time with Jamie in her apartment. And then had taken a long trip down to Dallas, detouring for a few days in LA. The LA stop had been mostly unplanned and the product of some shady standby flight action. The trip to Dallas was absolutely necessary. Elle was pretty sure it would be momentously stupid not to spend some time in Texas to see what home was like in Dallas for the dark haired forward.

So, here she was.

“Holy fuck shit Josi is hot as fuck. Dude. Look at that smile.”

And there was Nicole. Nicole who was currently pawing at the glass in Josi’s direction. Elle laughed and shook her head. And then there was Shea Weber, bumping into the glass right in front of them, startling Nicole.

He glanced over his shoulder and gave Elle a wave too. Weber was a pretty okay dude, all things considered, but had the tendency to have a lot of misguided, and forgetful, rookies under his watch. Thankfully they’d only flown into YVR a handful of times while Elle was there. She shuddered, remembering the rookies that had come in to replace Sutter when he’d bailed to the Wild and the general lack of common sense.

The Preds weren’t anywhere near the top of her shit list (a position still firmly dedicated to the Chicago club) so she was actually a little disappointed that she wouldn’t be working with them anymore. She had a meeting later in the week with Jason, the Stars’ team services director, to find out about the position in Dallas but she’d be willing to bet her only responsibility would be to Jamie and his guys.

She’d met so many amazing people and made so many amazing friends during her tenure with Jetz that is was a little heartbreaking to think of that time as over. Nicole elbowed her when she let out a weighty sigh.

“Come on, Mopey. None of that shit tonight. Tonight we’re going to watch your boy win the Art Ross and then try to hook me up with Josi at a bar somewhere. They’re not flying out tonight are they? Nashville?”

Elle shook her head, eyes glued to the far side of the ice. “I have no idea. I can meander up to their staff section and ask later if you’d like.” Jamie had given her a rough estimate to which box the scratched Preds players and their support staff would be using tonight. She knew enough people that she could find out. Plus, they also had box seats with the WAGS and scratched players. No big thing.

“I’m surprised you want to go after Josi, though. I thought for sure you and Tyler were going to hook up. You talked about his abs enough on the flight down here but then, nothing from either of you after drinks Thursday night. Most strange.” She shot Nicole a sideways look so she saw the red head whip her head around on Elle. The color had drained from her friend’s face and Elle smirked. How interesting.

“No, no desire at all.” Nicole’s response came out as a squeak. Elle couldn’t prove it but she was pretty certain Tyler and Nicole had hooked up when they’d gotten into town. Nicole was staying with her and Jamie but had been gone when Elle had woken up. A short text ‘running in WARMTH for once’ was her only explanation for her early morning absence. And then Tyler had overslept, arriving late to practice and getting himself scratched for the last game of the season.

Something had happened. Elle just knew it. She wouldn’t pry, though, preferring to let the two of them come to her when they were ready to talk.

“Ugh, but he’s still on Tinder. I would have expected him to be on the bench cheering on the guys.” Elle snatched Nicole’s phone away and gave a good laugh because sure as shit, Tyler was on Tinder right at that moment. Her eyes scanned the crowd until she found him, tucked back in the tunnel leading to the locker rooms. She fished her own phone out and texted him.

Me: I can’t decide if you on Tinder in the AAC of all places is endearing or phenomenally stupid.

He looked up right at her a second later, a wide and toothy grin spreading across his face.

Tyler: I will have you know I’ve never swiped right in here. It’s just funny to see all the fans while they’re at a game.

Tyler: I’m excited you’re here to see this. Benny is gonna get the Art Ross, for sure.

They shared a mutual smile, although Tyler looked suitably sad that he wouldn’t be able to help his friend. The time was winding down on the warm up clock and Elle shot Nicole a look. “Beers and seats? We’ve got about 20 minutes before puck drop and we should probably get out of the Zamboni’s way.” Both massive machines were being prepped for a last run. Nicole looked out over the ice wistfully.

Elle could swear she heard her mutter something about finding Josi later.

As they cleared the way for the ice-resurfacer, she bumped into a woman from behind. Elle had an apology on the tip of her tongue, but the other woman, a beautiful dark-haired, dark-skinned paramedic of all things, apologized first.

Elle looked from her face, god her eyes were mesmerizing, down to the woman’s name tag, which read Morales. She pointed in recognition. “You’re the paramedic. The one that got Jamie to the hospital a few months ago after that hit.”

Morales gave her a small, confused smile and tipped her head to the side. “Sure was. I’m at a loss though; I don’t remember you being part of that crazy brigade.” She must have been talking about Tyler and his over-excitability.

Elle stuck out a hand. “Elle Merchant. I was on the phone with the bouncier of the two hockey players. I’m dating Jamie now.” Dating. It felt weird to say it out loud.

“Natalie Morales.” Her handshake was strong and sure. There was a half-smile on Natalie’s face as she likely remembered the interaction with Tyler and Jamie.

“Thank you so much-“

“Elle, quit yapping. We gotta scoot or the free beer is going to be gone.”

Nicole was already ten paces ahead, yelling from the hall. Elle rolled her eyes in exasperation. Natalie looked dumbfounded. Elle gave her a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “She does that. Sorry. But seriously, thank you.”

Natalie didn’t seem interested in her explanation of Nicole’s behavior, waving a hand in dismissal. “I was happy to help but I was just doing my job.”

Elle nodded. “Well, either way, I hope you don’t have much work tonight.” She heard something in affirmation from Natalie as she took off after Nicole through the murky path leading back to the general populace. Nicole was practically vibrating in her heels when Elle finally caught up with her at the elevator. “What the fuck, Nicole? I was trying to be nice.”

“So, I was thinking after the game, when we go out with the boys, you should totally try to hook me up with Eaves. That dude looks like he could go a few rounds. Or maybe Demers. He’s got a cute look to him too. Oh, no wait. Eakin. I would love to go a few rounds with the ginger; we could have crazy red-headed sex. For sure.” Nicole’s grin was sharp when she stepped through the now-open door.

Elle was having none of this shit. She’d put up with the randomness of her friend’s behavior for years without much fuss. It was a part of who Nicole was. But she’d been really rude to Natalie. Elle braced the door open. “All right, jerk face. What the fuck was that back there with the paramedic?”

Nicole gave her a long stare, arms crossed with a storm brewing behind her eyes.

“Nicole. Seriously. You’re never that rude.” Elle paused, thinking back over the years of her friendship with Nicole. “Okay, you’re never that rude for no reason.”

Nicole shifted her weight from foot to foot before she dropped her arms angrily. “Tyler and I hooked up when we first got here. When we in the middle of things he fucking called me Natalie.”

Elle was so startled at Nicole’s words she dropped her arms and stared at the red head. She was jerked back into the moment when the doors started to close. She cleared the opening, still staring at Nicole as the elevator rose. “He called you Natalie? Like. THAT Natalie?”

Nicole gave a curt nod and stared at the ceiling.

“How do you know it was her?”

Nicole’s response was clipped and final. “He told me it was a thing a few weeks ago.” For the first time, Elle really took stock of how Nicole looked. Her friend was paler than normal, blurred around the edges of what would normally be a flawless make up job. It was like the cold armor she usually kept up around her had finally been cracked.

“How- what? You know what. I’m going to ask him. The only thing I want to know from you is if you need a hug.” Elle held out her arms. Nicole looked like she was going to balk for a moment before flinging herself forward. Elle caught the redhead easily, holding her close. “Just don’t cry on my Benn jersey. If anyone gets tears on this thing it’s going to be Jamie, crying tears of joy for the amazing blow job he’s getting once he wins the Art Ross tonight.”

“Ew, grooooosssss. I don’t need to know that.” Nicole flung Elle back. They both dissolved into giggles. As a rather fortuitous turn of events, Tyler was waiting for them when the elevator doors opened. He was grinning but that smile slipped a bit when he remembered Nicole was with her.

“Come on, jack ass. You’re getting a pass tonight because I want to enjoy the game, not get a thorough and apparently much-needed relationship update from one Tyler Seguin.” Nicole let out a breath and Tyler’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

The AAC was bumping the entire game, updates on the scoring race for the Art Ross displayed over and over on the board after each point Jamie scored. In the final moments, when a tie between Jamie and Tavares seemed sure, Jamie set up a goal got that last secondary assist that assured him the trophy. The WAG box exploded around them, Tyler twirling her in circles and the spouses and girlfriends she had met giving her high fives or hugs. Nicole even kissed her. She could see the bright shine of Jamie’s smile all the way from the ice.

Much later, she was helping a very tired and sore hockey player through the front door of his exceptionally large mansion. He had an arm around her shoulders and swayed gently as she slapped at the wall to find the light switch. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay? Can you even stand? Should you have even driven home?”

Jamie beamed down at her and dropped a kiss on her worried brow. “We had a couple suds in the locker room and the trainers gave me some drugs. Told me I needed to get home ASAP. And we’re home!”

He gestured to the now brightly-lit and homely space. For a fucking sprawling mansion it felt an awful lot like a cozy winter cabin. He’d done a lot with warm, dark wood floors and muted colors. Elle had fallen in love the moment she’d first arrived. It truly did feel like a home in all the same ways that her own apartment had felt like a refuge. “We sure are. Now, let’s get to bed.” She’d have to put her blow job plans on hold. He didn’t appear to be in any shape for romantic interactions.

He laughed as she guided him to the stairs. “Will you sleep in the jersey? As my reward?”

He sounded so boyishly gleeful that Elle burst out laughing. “I suppose I can do that.”

In Jamie’s warm and inviting home, two light sweaters draped over the back of his admittedly over-stuffed couch. Two empty coffee mugs stood guard next to the sink, ready to be rinsed and reused in the morning. The quiet night hummed with a variety of electronics and ambient noise from the street, punctuated periodically by pleased laughter and lethargic conversation.

Two bodies curled in on one another, each adjusting until they were perfectly aligned and satisfied. Two cell phones, protectively placed on night stands buzzed almost simultaneously. Elle opened an eye, frustrated at the low light sent out by their screens in the otherwise dark room. When she reached for her phone, Jamie’s hand snatched it and pulled it back to her chest. He murmured something about checking it in the morning as he nuzzled deeper into the hair at the nape of her neck.

Elle breathed in the scent of him, of his bed and his home and his life, and nodded sleepily. It had taken a long time to get here. Everything else could wait.

Her phone screen flashed another notification from Tinder. A message from Tyler that she would laugh about in the morning right before she deleted the program. It would be the last notification she’d ever get from the app.

Notes

That's it folks! The end of Swipe! A huge thanks to my muse and my beta . Thank you to all the readers and my favorite supporters, even if you never said anything. An EXTRA special thanks to those kind enough to leave me a few words after a chapter. You honestly can't believe how much those comments kept this story going when I thought it would never be finished.

As for these characters, they will return!

What the fuck happened with Nicole and Tyler?

Who the hell is Natalie?

How does Elle's new job work out?

What the fuck is Patrick Sharp doing in Dallas?

Three of these four quandaries will be answered in my next story: The Holes We Dig featuring Mr. Seguin and the just-now-met Natalie Morales. Join me shortly for a story of a mischievous, heart-breaker and the wrong woman to cross as they plot and prey against each other.