She hung up and threw the phone on the bed. The mirror version of her was wearing dark jeans and a black blouse with a draped neckline. Black was good. Black was slimming. She turned around and winced at her butt. It looked decent, but it was still wide. Maybe she should have some of the fat sucked out and injected in her boobs.

Instead of picking herself apart some more, she ran a comb through her hair and parted it on the side. Some light hairspray set it in place. Once she was in the car, she slathered on some lip gloss and texted Brooks that she’d meet him at Primanti’s in twenty minutes. She found her new favorite hockey player sitting in a corner booth with Mike Green. She stopped short when her eyes slid over and saw Alexander Ovechkin next to Mike.

Brooks saw her and waved, smiling that generous and easy smile of his. She watched him slip out of the booth and walk over to greet her. “Hey, long time, no see.” Marie felt his right arm slip around her shoulders and pull her in for a brief hug. Her entire body stiffened. She’d never been good with physical stuff, not even with boyfriends. It just made her feel awkward.

“Hi, glad to see you made it.”

“Ovie invited himself,” Brooks whispered, jerking his head over his shoulder at the booth behind them. “Hope that’s okay.”

“Uh, sure.” Meanwhile her brain was saying, “Uh, no.”

They walked over to the booth and Brooks let her slide in first so she was between him and Mike. Ovechkin’s hand was out and across the table in her face before she could even settle in and get comfortable. “Alex,” he said to her.

“I know,” she replied, shaking his hand.

“You are Marie.”

“Yep.”

He looked at her like he was assessing the goods. It made Marie uncomfortable so she fiddled with the napkin-wrapped silverware on the table in front of her.

“Nice to see you again,” Mike said, giving her a small smile.

Marie smiled back. “Yeah, you too.”

“Still hoping we’ll lose?” he asked.

She glanced over at Brooks and then looked back to Mike when she answered, “Yep, sorry about that.”

“She has no love for us,” Ovechkin said, frowning slightly.

“She’s coming around,” Brooks replied, bumping his shoulder into hers playfully. Marie gritted her teeth, trying to will away the blush that was seconds from warming her cheeks.

Ovechkin’s eyes were scanning the room. When he noticed a jukebox over to the right, he slipped out of the booth and sauntered over to it.

Mike groaned and went after him.

“He’s like a caveman,” Marie said to Brooks once they were alone.

He laughed. “He’s a good guy, just different.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“How was your day?” he asked.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “The usual. How was your flight?”

“The usual. We played video games most of the way here.”

“Did you win?”

“Nope, I lost. I’m the worst at video games.”

“Not as bad as me,” she replied. All she could do was stare at his hands. They were on the table, long fingers curled into his palms. They looked tan and strong and perfect. This line of thought was a bad one to go down, though.

Back in Black by AC/DC started playing. “Oh, thank God,” Brooks said. “No Russian techno on jukeboxes.”

“People actually listen to techno?” she asked, scrunching her nose up.

Brooks looked down and laughed at her before settling back into the booth. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“Ew.”

“Agreed,” he said.

“Drinks?” Their waiter had just walked up to the booth.

Brooks inclined his head toward Marie. She ordered a beer and then Brooks ordered one for himself and two for his missing teammates.

When the waiter had left, she said, “What kind of music do you listen to?”

“All kinds. I love music.”

“You have to have a favorite.”

He looked up at the ceiling in thought. “Maybe classic rock. I always cycle back around to that. What about you?”

“I’ll listen to anything. I might have a weakness for trashy hip-hop or R&B.”

Brooks groaned. “Oh, no. And here I thought you were cool.”

“Hey, you can’t tell me you haven’t rocked out to a Lil Wayne song in your car before.”

“I haven’t.”

She laughed. “Well don’t you just have discriminating taste in music. You too good for me now?”

He grinned and shook his head. “Naw, I just prefer Soulja Boy.”

The waiter sat their beers on the table. “I knew it,” she said after he had left them alone again. The conversation lulled as they both took drinks from their beer bottles. Marie saw Ovechkin and Mike talking to three girls at the bar. “Uh oh. Breakin’ hearts in Pittsburgh?”

Brooks rolled his eyes. “He thinks he’s a ladies man.”

“A little birdie told me that you’re the ladies man.”

“Have you been watching videos online?”

“Maybe. That’s not considered stalking, is it?”

“No,” he chuckled. “But the only reason they all said me was because I’m single.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, yeah, sure.”

“Serious!” he said, leaning forward and laughing again. “I’m actually really boring.”

Marie raised her brows. “Somehow I doubt that.”

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

They spent three hours talking about music and eating sandwiches and fries. Mike and Ovechkin we're working the bar. Two girls had been fawning over Mike for well over an hour. Ovie was entertaining an entire group of people a couple stools over. It was like the man was holding court. Marie didn't mind so much because she got to have an actual enjoyable conversation with Brooks about music and his desire to learn how to play guitar better.

She finished off her beer during a lull in the conversation. Brooks was watching his teammates at the bar, and Marie wondered if he was getting tired of her monopolizing his time. "You can go over if you want. I should be heading home anyway."

Brooks looked over at her. His baby blue eyes were damn near enough to make her heart stop. "I'm having a good time right here. Plus," he said, gesturing toward Mike and Ovechkin, "that's not really my thing anymore."

"What isn't your thing?"

He shrugged and leaned back in the booth. His arm was resting on the bench behind her head, but wasn't touching her. "Trying to impress strangers in bars."

"You mean trying to impress women."

He shrugged again, but smiled as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Yeah, I'm too old for that."

"Oh, so you're ancient like me?" she asked with a grin on her face.

"Way older. I bet I've got five years on you."

She chuckled. "I bet you're wrong. I'm 30."

"You're joking. You look about twenty-five."

"Nope. The big three-oh just like you, old man."

He shifted on the bench and she felt his knee press against her leg briefly. "So you know how tiring the... scene can get."

Marie rolled her eyes. "Don't act like you've got it tough. I bet the women in D.C. line up around the block for a chance at you."

"Yeah, only the wrong kind." He nodded his head over at Mike. Marie looked at the two women next to him. A platinum blonde and a brunette that had a paycheck's worth of extensions in her hair. They were both wearing skirts that barely covered their asses and halter tops that left nothing up top to the imagination. The six inch heels screamed slutty.

"I thought that's what guys like," Marie said, looking back at Brooks. "Mike seems to be enjoying their company."

"Not every guy likes that. Just a matter of taste."

"Could have fooled me. It's been my experience that most guys are looking for Bambi over there."

"I question your taste in men."

She narrowed her eyes at him. He was damn cute but he was skating on thin ice with the direction of the conversation. She knew she wasn't the best at relationships and dating, but she wasn't about to be lectured or made fun of by a hockey player from a team she didn't even like.

Brooks seemed to sense the volatility. "I'm sorry. I don't know you well enough to say that. It just feels like I've known you forever."

Her heart stopped. Surely it had just come to a grinding halt in her chest. She didn't know what to say to that. Because he was right. When they were talking--just the two of them--it did feel familiar and easy. And Marie wondered if part of that simplicity was due to the lack of sexual tension. Obviously he wasn't attracted to her and she knew she didn't stand a chance with him so she never let herself get too wrapped up in the way the corners of his mouth turned up when he smiled or the way the muscles in his arm flexed when he picked up his beer. But she damn well noticed.

"I'm an old soul," she finally said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

Brooks smiled at her words. "I like that. It's a good way to put it."

"Sure you don't want to double team the dynamic duo over there with Mike?"

This time he rolled her eyes at her. "Not even in the slightest. I bet they listen to LMFAO."

"Hey, I love that band," Marie said with a straight face. She watched Brooks' face crumple in on itself in disappointment before she laughed and told him she was kidding.

"That wasn't funny," he warned her. "I was beginning to seriously question my choice of friends."

She raised her brows. "Slumming it much? You're calling Penguins fans friends now?"

"Just one. And only because you're on the cusp of being a Caps fan. "

Marie snorted. "Dream on, twenty-one. My loyalties run deep."

"You coming to the game tomorrow night?"

She nodded.

"Where are you sitting so I know where to show off my mad skills?"

"You'll have to project those mad skills because my brother and I have seats in the upper level. We hadn't planned on going until last week and there weren't any good seats down front."

"Let me see if I can pull a rabbit out of my hat then."

"Brooks, no. That's not necessary. Our seats are fine."

He bumped his shoulder playfully against hers. "If I get you center ice seats, will you wear a Caps jersey?"

"Hell no. I'd be the laughing stock of the arena."

"Guess I'll just have to be nice and get you great seats anyway."

"I have seats. Plus, this isn't your home turf. What makes you think you have any pull to get seats on the glass anyway?"

"Is that a challenge?"

She laughed and shook her head. "I should go. It's almost eleven o'clock and I turn into a pumpkin at midnight."

"Don't you mean your car turns into a pumpkin."

Marie smiled at him. "No. I'm not Cinderella."

Brooks smiled back, but didn't respond. Instead he slid around the booth. "I'll walk you out," he finally said.

"Leaving?" Mike called out, looking over the shoulder of the blonde.

"Yeah, in five. I'm going to walk Marie to her car. Where's Ovie?"

Mike shrugged and gave Brooks a knowing look. "Bathroom."

Brooks shook his head and placed a hand lightly on Marie's lower back. They stepped outside into the chilly February air and hurried over to her car.

"Bathroom?" she asked.

"Yeah. With a girl."

Marie made a face. "You guys actually do that?"

Brooks took her keys out of her hand and unlocked her car door. "Not me. Remember, I'm too old for that shit."

"In a Primanti's bathroom? Gross."

He opened her door. "Ever tried it?"

She scrunched her nose up. "None of your buisness."

Brooks laughed and held up his hands in surrender. "Maybe you'd like it."

"With him?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Oh God, no," Brooks replied. "Ovie is a..."

"Slut," she said, finishing his sentence.

"I wouldn't disagree with that assessment."

Scuffling at the entrance to the restaurant made them both look over. Mike was holding the door open for Ovie. The two men walked over to a SUV with a Enterprise Rental logo on the back window.

"I got the tab," Mike called out.

Brooks nodded his thanks before turning back to Marie. "I'll text you about your tickets tomorrow."

"Really, it's not..."

"Hush. I want to. Have a good night."

She slid behind the driver's seat and let him shut the door behind her. She waved at him through the window and he returned it as he stepped back.