Chapter 22

it's warmin' up in here folks...

“Oh my gawd it’s a beer, it’s not going to kill you!” Getzlaf tries to shove a beer into my hand for like the tenth time and I’m having none of it, laughing, but shoving it away all the same.

“Too many calories,” I explain. “Find me something harder and we’re talking,” I add while he rolls his eyes he and Perry take off in the opposite direction in search of someone more fun, I presume. I’ve never been to a frat party, but I’m guessing that this sort of wandering the halls of the athlete’s village with beer in hand is as much like that as I’m ever going to get. Well, apart from the craziness after winning the Stanley Cup.

“You did good today kid.” I turn to see Haley Wickenheiser walking towards me with a couple of her teammates, all three of them with beer in hand, making me wonder, am I the only one around here that doesn’t drink the stuff during the season.

“Thanks,” I nod, feeling a bit awkward. I mean I know who she is, I’m pretty sure everyone who plays hockey in Canada does, but I don’t think we’ve ever been introduced before. “I hear you guys set some kind of record for goals?” I offer, remembering back to my junior days when I’d score eight goals but thirteen?

“I just hope we didn’t blow our load you know?” one of the girls with Haley laughs and I find myself grinning back at the blue eyed, fresh faced forward. I seem to remember someone telling me that they call her the female Sidney Crosby but I can’t quite remember her name.

“Who do you play next?” I ask and the other girl, the dark haired, dark eyes beauty who doesn’t look anything like you’d think a hockey player would.

“Same as you, Switzerland,” she grins. “Nooo problem.”

“I’ve heard the Swiss guys are actually pretty good,” I offer. “I’m actually a little worried about them. They’ve got a hot goaltender. I actually have problems with Hiller.

“Well if you need help, we can always give Marie-Philip here a buzz cut and put her in,” Hayley offers and the blonde blue eyed girl laughs but doesn’t exactly object.

“I’ve heard you have a hell of a shot,” Flower appears at my side and I gather he knows more about these girls than I do.

“She’s got a wicked release,” the dark haired beauty adds. “I should know, I’m black and blue from taking shots in practice.” I find myself mesmerized by her bubblegum pink lips and dimple in her right cheek, unable to look away. “Ca va Fleur?” she asks suddenly and she and my goalie exchange fists in a familiar way that has me looking confusedly back and forth between the two of them.

“Charline’s from nearby. She was on TV en Quebec,” Flower explains and I nod, mutely, still focused entirely on her shiny pink lip gloss.

“So, Crosby...beer?” she asks, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow before tossing her long, shiny dark hair over her shoulder.

“Ummm, yeah,” I reply falling in step with them as they head for the main lounge area. Flower looks inquisitively at me and all I can do is shrug because I don’t know the answer either.

____________________________________________________________

“Still no answer,” I mumble under my breath, hitting end and tossing my cell across the couch. Max is, I don’t know where, sulking. Tanger is out gallivanting and likely getting laid and Kennedy took off pretty much right from the shoot to join Jordy and the rest of his family in Vancouver to cheer on older brother Eric. And that leaves me alone, in my jammies, with my cell phone apparently.

Not that I begrudge him a celebration with the boys, which I tell myself is probably where he is. I mean, it would be nice if he answered his phone but it’s probably pretty loud wherever he is and I have seen the crowds on the internet. It looks pretty crazy and maybe even the Sidney Crosby could get lost in those crowds.
I tell myself I’m happy for him if he is out having fun. He deserves it. He played really well. Of course if he’s just out with Trina and Troy....

The door opens and I turn to see Max standing in the doorway, warily looking at me like he expects me to tell him to fuck off again except I’m over it and besides, I hate the whole silence thing.

“Where’ve you been?” I ask, picking up my sketch pad again and going back to work on something that’s been in my head for a while now.

“Walking,” he replies, still standing in the doorway.

“In New York? You can get mugged here you know,” I muse, turning my pencil sideways to do some shading. “Well don’t just stand there. You’re letting in that horrible curry smell from the hall,” I add with a smile that I don’t let him see. It’s not as fun as making Sid squirm, but almost.

“You’re not going to throw something at me?” he asks, sounding more like the happy go lucky fun loving Frenchman we all adore.

“That depends. Are you going to act like an ass again?” I ask, listening to him toe off his shoes and then cross the floor in stocking feet before grabbing the remote and aiming it towards the TV. “And that includes changing my show,” I add, reaching out without looking up from my work to snatch the remote out of his hand. I hear him snicker and have to bite down on my bottom lip to stop him from laughing out loud.

For a while we sit in companionable silence but there’s that undercurrent. The type where you know the other person is dying to say something, so much so that there’s a palpable electric current in the air. That and I could feel Max watching my hands as I sketched out a full skirted ball gown with a silver and white brocade bodice.

“Go on, say it,” I mutter, unwilling to look up to see the ‘I told you so’ look I knew would be in his eyes.

“Do you really have to rush into marrying him? You’ve known him your whole life. Maybe he’s not what you think he is,” he suggests, at which point I put down my pencils and put aside my sketch book and turn to face my accuser.

“I’m not the one who brought up weddings. You did and I don’t even know if you made that up just get a reaction from me or if he’s actually said something to you and I’m not sure I even want you to tell me. As for who he is…he is Sidney. He is who he’s always been just…more so,” I insist quietly, hoping that he can see the plea in my eyes that says I don’t want to argue about this.

“I don’t think you want all of the attention that will bring,” Max continues despite my silent plea and that makes me grab for a pillow to hold onto, wrapping my arms around it like a shield. “Do you have any idea what kind of press you’re going to have to deal with? And I don’t mean like with Nat and Mario and how they’re always in the Pittsburgh Gazette. I mean in every paper and magazine in Canada,” Max continues and my head begins to throb in response.

“You don’t know that,” I begin and Max snorts again and then reaches over to put his hand on my knee.

“Not to mention the hate mail, the death threats,” he adds, turning the dull throb into a piercing ache behind my eyes.

“I can’t stop loving him Max,” I shrug, opening my eyes so that he can see just how tired I am of this entire subject. “I may not want to think about all of that stuff right now but…it doesn’t stop me from wanting to be with him. It just makes it…harder. That’s what I meant the other day. I know it’s going to be hard but that doesn’t mean I stop loving him. Hell…there’s been plenty of times I wish I didn’t. Fuck, I know it would be easier if I didn’t. It would be so much easier to go back to playing in the sandbox and not understanding that I was a girl and he was a boy…and some days I would if I could but…I can’t because I love him. I don’t know how else to explain it.” Max sighs and closes his eyes, nodding as he leans his head back and I know there’s more he wants to say but my phone begins to vibrate on the cushion beside him and when he reaches for it, I can tell by the look on his face exactly who it is. “G’night Max,” I grin, grabbing my phone from his hand and kissing his forehead as I bound towards my room. “Hey hero boy, that was a great game….”

_______________________________________________________

Maybe it was the beer, or the fact that I was tired, but when Charline Labonté asked me to go somewhere quiet with her…it was tempting. That is, until I reminded myself that I wasn’t the kind of guy that did that kind of thing, at least not anymore. So as tempting as it was, I yawned and stretched and begged off.

I didn’t tell her I wasn’t interested or that I had a girlfriend back home. I just looked into those dark eyes, and brushed her silken hair back from her face and kissed her good night.

I’m an asshole. I’m a fucking asshole just like Tanger or Max.

There’s something about her though and not just her toned athletic body or the fact that she can skate, well as well as any goalie can, although to be able to talk about hockey with someone who plays it was phenomenal. But it wasn’t just that. There was a freeness about her, an openness that I can’t put my finger on.

Flower says it’s just cold feet. I asked him how he knows and he couldn’t answer. Of course he couldn’t. He’s always had Vero.

“Ma mère dit a moi q’un jour où je me le développerai fatigue d’elle, mais je ne le fais pas,” he explains with one of his easy grins and I can’t help but wish it was that easy for me.

“Papa G says that if I’m relaxed around her that she’s the one but I don’t know. I keep thinking maybe if I was like Jordy, the way he runs around falling in love all the time, maybe then I could agree but I want to feel that...I don’t fucking know, something, anything that says yeah, stupid, she’s the one,” I explain, dropping my head into my hands.

“Mon ami, tu penses trop,” Flower laughs, mussing my hair as he gets up off of his bed.

“Great and the next thing you’ll be telling me is that I need to get laid,” I sigh, letting myself fall back on the bed so that I’m staring up at the blank, white ceiling.

“Peut-être ce n’est pas une si mauvaise idée,” he smirks, grabbing his cell phone and heading into the bathroom for some privacy. Vero does phone sex. Apparently very well.

Now there’s an idea.

Grabbing my phone I look down to see five missed calls; one my father, two Mario and the rest all Mel. As I listen to the sound of her number dialing I fluff up the pillows behind me and try to relax. I’ve never been very good at this, but damn it, I think I need it.

“Hey hero boy!” I’d half expected to get admonished for not phoning earlier but as usual Mel surprises me by being happy instead of upset. “That was a great game. You made some fabulous moves out there.”

“It was fun,” I admit, taking a deep breath and glancing towards the bathroom door which remains closed. “What are you wearing right now?”

“Wh...what?” I can hear the shock and alarm in her voice and I guess I did kinda jump right into it but I don’t know how much time or privacy I’m going to have.

“Are you alone or....?”

“Max is here but he’s in the living room...why?” she laughs nervously and I’m sure I hear the sound of her closing her bedroom door and then the squeak of her old bed springs. “What’s up with you tonight?” We’ve talked on the phone a hundred times. No, probably more and I’ve never tried this before. I can understand her surprise.

“So what are you wearing?” I ask again and I can hear her put her hand over the phone to stifle the nervous giggling. Funny, she never seemed giggly when we made out before.

“I’m just in my jammies,” she replies finally, in a sort of breathless voice that tells me she’s still trying to get her breathing under control.

“Well don’t,” I tell her, pulling my sheet up over stomach and sliding my hand down to the waistband of my wind pants. “So now what are you wearing?” I ask and I can hear her fumbling on the other side of the line and so I close my eyes, bringing her curves to mind and imagining pulling her pyjama bottoms off, slowly revealing a pair of.... “What kind of panties are you wearing?”

“Black, lacey,” she replies breathlessly, and this time I don’t think the sound of her voice is from nerves alone.

“Are you wearing a bra?” I ask, thinking about the high round soft globes in my hands, the firm little peak of her nipple pressing into the palm of my hand as I kiss my way down her neck.

“No, I took it off when I came home. I’m just wearing that old Shattucks t-shirt you brought home for me,” she tells me and then it’s my turn to take a deep, wavering breath. That old shirt fits tightly across her chest. I’d bought it for the little girl I’d left behind only to deliver it to a more filled out girl. I’d never seen her wear it until she’d stayed over at Mario’s and when I had, it had nearly taken my breath away.

“Sooo just that and the panties?” I ask, hearing my voice get low and husky as I imagine her bare legs bent at the knees and her hand sliding slowly down over her breasts and then further down....

“Yesss,” she hisses and I can’t help but imagine her hand sliding under the black lace, down inside that mysterious union between her legs.

“Are you...are you wet...down there?” I ask, feeling heat rise into my face. As if someone can see me or overhear me. It’s only her and I and yet....

“Mmmm,” is her only reply and a little groan escapes my own lips as my hand slides down to circle my now hard and aching cock.

“God I can’t wait to taste you Mel. I dream about it...of going down on your sweet little pussy, of you cumming for me. Do you want that too?” I ask and she moans for me and I wonder if she’s rubbing her clit or finger fucking herself or...or both.

“Yess Sidney! Your tongue...oh god,” she moans and I can hear her sharp intake of breath and I imagine her arching her back beneath me as I slide my cock inside her dripping wet pussy.

“I want to be inside you. Is it tight?” I ask and she lets out a shaky little laugh.

“Oh god...you have no idea,” she whispers in a voice that tells me she’s smiling and I wonder what she’s imagining in her head. Does she see me moving over her, filling her, fucking her hard? Or is she still imagining me lapping at sweet pussy?

“Is it shaved?” I ask, my strokes quickening as I imagine watching my cock sliding out of her pussy, dripping with her juices.

“Yessss, and oh my god you make me so wet,” she moans and I can clearly hear her sucking a ragged breath through her teeth and I imagine her head tossing from side to side as I make her cum over and over.

“How do you want it?” I ask, my eyes screwed tightly shut as I reach for the tissues on the side table. “Hard and fast? Do you want me to fuck you fast?”

“Please...yessss,” she sighs, and I hear her making a little squeaking sound and I imagine my teeth closing around one of the pink buds of her nipples, making her squirm beneath me as I slide in and out of her wet pussy.

“Say you want me Mel,” I hiss, tossing back the sheets before I shoot my load into them. “Say you want me in your pussy.”

“Fuck me Sidney...oh god, fuck me hard. Fuck my pussy” she moans and that does it. I fill the tissues and my hand and spray my load up onto my stomach, leaving me a sticky mess.

“Shit,” I mutter, grabbing more tissues and wiping at the mess I’ve made and shoving my dick back in my pants.

“Are you...Sid? Are you there?”

“Oh...oh damn, Mel, sorry you just...fuck you made me cum and I sort of last track there,” I apologize sheepishly, tossing all the soiled tissues in the garbage with a grateful glance towards the still closed bathroom door. “That was great. I think I needed that to go to sleep. Shit, what time is it there?”

“I don’t know, two?” she replies quietly.

“And you were up with Max?” I ask, hearing the accusing sting in my own voice and wishing I could take it back.

“He’d just crawled in. I was up working on my project,” she explains, and then lets out a long yawn. “You’re probably exhausted,” she adds in a small voice. I am, now. Thanks to her. But as I open my mouth to tell her so, Flower emerges from the bathroom looking similarly happy and exhausted and collapses onto his bed. “Fleur’s back now so good night Mel. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay, night Sidney.” I hit end and put my phone down on the bedside table and roll over to grin at Flower.

“Sentes mieux?” he asks groggily, reaching to turn out his light.

“Much, thanks,” I grin at him, turning mine off and stretching as I roll over and close my eyes. Much, much better.
___________________________________________________________________

“How’s lover boy?” Max asks over my shoulder as I spit into the sink and I nearly jump out of my skin to see him there in the mirror. My thoughts were, obviously, hundreds of miles away.

“Fine, good,” I mutter, reaching for a towel to wipe off the excess toothpaste and hide the beet red colour my skin has just turned to be found thinking about what had just transpired in my bedroom.

“I hope you bugged him about not scoring,” Max adds as I reach for my hairbrush, pulling furiously at my hair, unable to face him, hoping like hell he didn’t overhear anything but being completely unwilling to ask.

“No, I didn’t,” I snap, sounding bitchier than I mean to but then again, he did leave me sort of high and dry after he finished. Typical male.

“Aww. You miss him. That’s sweet,” Max continues and it’s just one comment too many and I whirl on him, claws and fangs bared.

“Yes I miss him! Yes I love him! And yes, I want to fuck his brains out but I can’t because he’s there and I’m here and even if he was here I’m not sure I’d have the guts to do what I actually want to do and no, I haven’t fucking told him I’m still holding my V-card, okay? I haven’t, because it’s kind of embarrassing and he’s going to want to sleep with me when he gets back and I don’t know what I’m going to do about that, okay? Satisfied?” Max stares back at me, wide eyed, his mouth hanging open like a dead carp. “Nothing to say? Good, well. Good night Max,” I snarl, pushing past him and heading for my bedroom, fully intending on giving the door a good satisfying slam before tossing myself on my bed and having a good old fashioned pout but Max grabs my bedroom door before I manage to swing it shut.

“Did you guys have a fight or....?”

“No, not a fight...look, never mind Max. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t even be talking about my private life to you. Just...just try and ignore me, ça va?”I mutter, grabbing one of my teddy bears off of my bed and clutching it protectively to my chest.

“Mon chère, you put too much stock in this virginity thing. I mean...not me, I’m not one for wanting to be first but Sidney...je ne sais pas but perhaps he will be honoured. You don’t give him enough credit,” Max offers, crossing the room to crouch in front of me, putting his hands on my bare knees, which suddenly reminds me that I’m still in my, now soaked, panties. I press my knees closely together and pray that he doesn’t smell sex on me.

“No one likes a virgin. I mean...other than Tanger obviously,” I mutter, which makes Max laugh. “I don’t want my first time with Sid to be...awful,” I complain and Max sighs, giving my knees a squeeze before standing up and moving to sit beside me on the bed.

“I don’t think it’s awful for everyone,” Max tried but I just wrinkle my nose at him.

“You don’t have a vagina,” I reminded him and to that, all he can do was shrug.

“Thank god, or I’d never have become a professional hockey player. I’d be home playing with myself all the time,” he replies, grinning that wide, mischievous Max grin and I can't help but laugh, even though the image I get in my head I immediately try to shake loose. “I’m just saying, mon dieu woman, give the guy a chance. You never know, maybe he’ll actually appreciate that you waited.”

“Maybe,” I agree, at which point Max looks satisfied and leans over to kiss my forehead.

“We’re not all monsters ma petite,” he adds quietly, cupping my cheek in his hand. “If it was me...I know I’d be incredibly honoured.”

I can’t keep looking at the kindness in his eyes. I have to look away. It makes me feel embarrassed to be angry at Sidney, even if he did leave me a bit unsatisfied. All I’d had to do was speak up. He probably hadn’t meant to forget about me and he had to be tired and it was late and I was bitchy and Max could be right. Sidney might actually want to be the one...

“Merci Maximus,” I sigh, finally looking back up into those green blue eyes and smiling. “You’re a good friend.”

“De rien,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss the top of my head before turning to pad back out to the couch in his bare feet. I think about calling him back, asking him to stay and play the part of a teddy bear for me, but then I just laugh at my own insecurity and instead, I turn off my light, curl up around my teddy bear and try not to think of the way my heart beat so quickly waiting for Sidney to call my name.

It doesn’t mean anything that he didn’t. It was just phone sex. It doesn’t mean anything and maybe Max is right. Maybe he won’t care. Maybe it will all be fine and I’ll have gotten myself worked up for nothing. Maybe.