“Derrick, do not embarrass me. When you start screaming at them it just makes me want to sink into the floor.”

Marie’s older brother looked at her with his innocent eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sis.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” she replied, giving him a dirty look. Her brother was five years older than her and the biggest kid she knew. He was married with two little boys and a nice job, but he couldn’t seem to control himself when it came to hockey. Taking the game seriously was an understatement. They were seated in the corner on the first row. The Pens were shooting twice in this end which was why Derrick shelled out the money for the nice seats. His wife, Jenna, didn’t care about hockey. Marie was more than happy with that since it mean Derrick’s hockey buddy hadn’t changed since Jenna came into the picture. It was and always would be his little sister Marie.

The players jumped onto the ice for warmups. She couldn’t help but look for Brooks Laich. It had been over a month since she’d returned to Pittsburgh after sorting things out in D.C. The crews had been hired and policies set in place in her absence. The D.C. trip was such an uncomfortable blur that she blocked out the whole thing about meeting a Caps player, not telling anyone about it.. Her brother would have shamed her for being nice to Brooks anyway.

He was there, gracefully looping around the ice, shooting pucks toward Holtby on each pass around. Marie found warmups to be calming and mesmerizing. They always did the same things--like a ritual to prepare for the game.

“Fucking Caps,” Derrick muttered under his breath. “I hope we destroy them. You know Talbot said that Ovechkin is a douche, right?”

“Yeah, he seems sleazy,” Marie agreed, trying to avert her eyes from Brooks Laich. Damn him and his easy-going, wholesome self. He belonged in a romance novel And he was probably a womanizer because no woman in her right mind could say no to that.

He skated back around the net and came to a stop just to the left of her seat, lowering himself to the ice and stretching out his legs. Marie tried to pretend she was invisible. The chances that he would remember her were slim, but on the off chance he did, she didn’t want any awkward, embarrassing moment in which he felt obligated to acknowledge her existence.

“What’s up with you?” Derrick asked, poking her arm.

“Nothing. Stop poking me.”

“You’re being weird. Are you working long hours again? Mom told you to stop that shit.”

“Fuck off, Derrick. I’m an adult.”

“With no social life.”

She glanced over and glowered at her brother. “I said to fuck off. My life is none of your biz.”

Just as she looked back up at the ice, she locked eyes with Brooks Laich and her stomach fell into her feet. It was obvious that he recognized her from the look of surprise on his face.

She dropped her eyes quickly, but it was too late. In her peripheral vision she could see his white and red jersey advancing toward the boards. And then there was a knock on the glass.

“What the fuck?” her brother said just before Marie looked up at Brooks.

“Hi,” he said loud enough to be heard through the glass.

Marie gave him a sheepish smile and waved her hand.

“Is Brooks Laich talking to you?” Derrick asked.

Marie held her hand up to tell her brother to be quiet because Brooks was talking again.

“You’re gonna break my heart if you root against me.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. Shaking her head she said, “Sorry, I’ve got to. You’re the enemy.”

Brooks hung his head dramatically and skated away. He went into the bench area to adjust his skates.

Derrick shook her arm. “Marie. What the hell? How do you know Brooks Laich?”

“He changed my flat tire when I was working in D.C. a month ago.”

“And you didn’t think I should know this kind of shit?”

“It was nothing. He was being nice.”

“My baby sister is canoodling with a Capital.”

Marie snorted. “Hardly. He’s just a nice guy.”

“He’s a Capital.”

“Yeah, I know. And he’s going to lose,” Marie replied.

******************************************

It was a few minutes into the second period when a man leaned over the couple to the right of her and said, “Are you Marie?”

She furrowed her brows in confusion and nodded her head. The man held out a folded sheet of paper with her name written neatly on the outside. She automatically accepted it, but didn’t comprehend what had happened.

“What kind of spy shit is this?” Derrick asked, looking from the paper to her face.

“No clue.”

Crosby swept around the boards and got tangled up with Joel Ward in an attempt to free the puck and get it in front of Holtby. Marie watched until the puck was knocked off to the left and then pushed down the ice by the Caps.

“Open it.”

Marie shot Derrick a look before she unfolded the sheet of paper and stared at the stylish scrawl across the middle of the paper.

Long time, no see. Hope you enjoyed D.C. We’re here for the night and I’d appreciate advice on where I should grab some dinner. Call me? 202-410-7672 Brooks

Marie stared at the sheet and read the note several times. What was this supposed to mean? Brooks Laich was passing her notes during a game? Bizarre.

“What the fuck, Marie?” Derrick asked after he’d read the note over her shoulder like an eavesdropping big brother.

She shook her head and folded up the paper. “No idea.”

“Did you and Laich, you know... when you were in D.C.?”

She shoved her brother’s shoulder. “No! Don’t be gross, Derrick. Plus, like I’d ever tell you about my sex life.”

Brooks smashed Neal against the boards, drawing the puck away from him and skating it up the middle of the ice before he passed it off to Ribeiro. She had a difficult time reconciling the friendly, easy-going guy who changed her tire with the powerful, graceful hockey player in the ice. This shit did not happen in real life. Not to her.

"You gonna call him? " Derrick interrupted her thoughts.

"No."

"Why not? "

She snorted and shoved the paper into he purse. "He's a Capital. And it's nothing. He just wants a restaurant recommendation and I suck at that.

"Marie, he gave you his number."

"So? "

"So call him. Trust me; I'm a guy."

"Derrick, he's not interested in me. Don't be stupid."

“Why?” he demanded.

"He's perfect and I'm..."

Derrick frowned. "You're what?"

"Not. I'm not. Just drop it. He's a nice guy and he helped me out once. End of discussion. "

"No one is perfect. And if he's a nice guy then why aren't you calling him. Only the bitchy women don't call a nice guy back."

Marie shook her head and turned back to to the game just in time to see Mike Green slap the puck from the blue line. It whizzed past Fleury and smacked into the back of the net. The entire arena groaned, including Derrick. Marie was just staring at the numbers on Brooks Laich's back as he crashed into Green for a celebratory hug.

***********************************

The bathroom was packed because all the women knew it would take them no less than thirty minutes to get out of the parking lot across the street from Consol Energy Center. When she emerged, Derrick was standing a few yards away, hunched over his cell phone. He disconnected when she approached.

"You in trouble with the missus big brother?"

Derrick grinned. "I might be. I told her I'm taking you for drinks before I come home."

"No," Marie said.

"Yes. Stop being a stick in the mud. You need to get out more."

She gritted her teeth, knowing that she was at Derrick's mercy since he had driven them to the game. "I need a brother who minds his own business."

Regardless of her complaints, she went along with him and followed him into the bar area of one of their favorite restaurants. She settled into a booth along the far wall while he went to the bathroom. The drink menu was extensive, but she wasn't in the mood for anything. Really, she just wanted to go home and stare at Brooks Laich's phone number while she dreamt up a fantasy that involved her being a few pounds lighter, hair a little longer, and confidence a little higher. That hypothetical girl would have called his number.

Marie dug into her purse to find the sheet with his handwriting on it. Receipts, an old checkbook, tampons, her wallet, keys, lotion. Where the hell was the sheet? After another minute of digging she gave up. Obviously it fell out in the arena. Oh well. At least the choice was taken from her. She couldn't call him even if she had the balls to.

"Marie? Hey!"

She jerked her gaze up to see Brooks Laich and Mike Green striding across the room, making their way over to her table. Her brain shut down.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted out.

"Your brother call me and said you'd be here. And he said the fries are amazing. I haven't had fries in forever." Brooks had slid into the booth beside her, forcing Marie to move over and press herself against the wall lest she have her leg pressed against his.

"Oh." Words were failing her. She couldn't think of anything to say. This was surreal.

Brooks turned his head to look at her. "You didn't know I was coming, did you? "

"Not really," she replied, looking at Mike Green who was now seated across the table. He was smiling and looking at the drink menu.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you... did you want us to leave you alone?"

"No," both Marie and Derrick said at the same time. He had just returned from the bathrooms.

"This kills me because I'm a diehard Pens fan, but I'm Derrick." Her brother stuck his hand out to Brooks and then Mike. They both said their nice-to-meet-yous to Derrick. "Marie was too shy to call," he said by way of explanation.

She scowled at her brother as she wished the floor would open up and swallow her. This could not get any worse.

"I'm Mike," Mike said, extending his hand across the table to Marie.

She took his offered hand and forced a smile. "I know. I'm Marie Clarkson. Nice to meet you."

"You root against my team. You don't call me. I'm beginning to think you don't like me at all." Brooks was giving her a sly look with a twinkle in his eye. He could probably read her like a book and eat her alive. She was the rabbit and he was the wolf who played women. She'd watched the video with the team in which almost everyone agreed that Brooks was the biggest ladies man. Obviously he was just toying with her. What was this? Some sort of bet on how big of a fool he could get her to make of herself?

Marie smiled sweetly at him. "I figured you weren't hard up for help finding a restaurant. I think there were a group of fans waiting outside the arena. There actually are Caps fans in Pittsburgh, despite our attempts to convert them."

Brooks laughed and grabbed the menu out of Marie's hand. "What are you drinking? It's on me."

"Jack and Coke. You change my tire. You buy me drinks. A girl will start thinking you've got ulterior motives."

Derrick made a choking noise deep in this throat. Marie looked over to see wide eyes and his jaw nearly on the table. Mike was grinning and still looking resolutely at the menu. Brooks was smiling too.

"Will you share an order of fries with me?"

She nodded and tried to will away the flush that had crept up into her cheeks at her own brazenness.

The waiter came over and took their orders. Mike fell into a conversation with Derrick. They were talking about traveling and which hockey towns were favorites of Mike's.

Brooks looked over at her. His hands were resting on the table and all she could see were his muscular forearms and the way the crisp white dress shirt with sleeves halfway rolled up set off his perfect tan. He looked relaxed and satisfied even if they had lost to the Pens not long ago.

"Finish up your work in D.C.?" he asked.

Marie nodded. "Just for the record, this is weird. Do you do this often?"

"Do what?"

"Give out your number to fans of rival teams so they can show you around town."

He laughed under his breath. "This is pretty weird, yeah?"

"Beyond bizarre," she agreed.

"It’s my first time, to tell you the truth. You seemed cool when I saw you those two times in D.C. I guess I was surprised to see you tonight and I felt like I should, you know, say hi or something."

"Totally weird," Marie responded with a grin.

He bumped his shoulder playfully into hers. “You found me out. I’m a weirdo.”

“Oddly enough, that’s really comforting to know. Now I don’t feel so alone.”

The waiter showed up with their drinks and food. Derrick had ordered a burger. Mike got a huge plate of pasta with grilled chicken. Marie was sharing a massive order of seasoned fried with Brooks. He adjusted the plate between them on the table and waited for her to take the first bite. She noticed even though he was smooth about it. Marie mentally shook her head. Fucking gentleman. It was almost unbearable. Since when did guys do shit like that nowadays? Too bad he was so far out of her league that just eating dinner at the same table as him was hilarious.

“Sorry we beat you tonight. Guess you can’t win ‘em all,” Marie said, popping a fry in her mouth and washing it down with a sip of her Jack and Coke.

Brooks shook his head at her and picked up a fry. “Don’t be cocky, now. You’ll be eating crow the next time we play the Pens.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.

“So when are you going to start supporting the better team?”

“Already do,” she replied cheekily as she grabbed a couple more fries off the plate.

“You better take that Crosby jersey off then,” he said, plucking at the sleeve of her prized jersey.

She took a long draw off her drink before saying, “Don’t be a hater, Laich.”

Marie grinned to herself as he bent over away from her and laughed. She didn’t stand a chance with Brooks Laich so she really had nothing to lose by verbally sparing with him. She knew for a fact that he didn’t want anything beyond dinner and some conversation. He would sweep out of town tomorrow and that would be that. The end of the odd friendship between her and Mr. Perfect.

And that’s really how the night went. They spent over two hours at the bar, picking at the plate of fries and having a few drinks. Mike bonded with her brother over their love of drums. Derrick wanted desperately to play in a local band, but when you’ve got two boys who play every sport known to man, you don’t have much time for practicing your own craft.

Brooks was fun and easy-going and attentive. And he gave her a half hug with his strong arm as they wrapped up the evening. His arm around her made her feel nervous and uncomfortable in a good way. A way she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Wow, I need to go on more dates if this gets my motor running, she thought. Brooks and Mike climbed into a cab and headed back to the hotel while Marie crawled up into her brother’s oversized pickup truck.

“That was strange,” Derrick said as he started the truck.

“I know,” she agreed.

“So you and Laich, huh?”

“Fuck off, Derrick. I’m not his type.”

“Says who?” he asked as he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and shoved it inside her purse. She knew it was Brooks Laich’s note and phone number. Her brother was a meddling asshole.

“Says the world. Drive me home. I have to work tomorrow and I’m already dreading it.”

The silence blanketed the truck as he pulled out into traffic and jumped on the parkway. “They seemed pretty cool for... Crapitals.”

“Yeah. Strange.”