six

I was so used to seeing Taylor at practices and in locker rooms that it didn't strike me at first when he strolled into the Barons room like he owned the place. "Hey," he said, stopping in front of me.

"Hey."  I was lacing a skate and I'd just seen him half an hour ago - not a priority..  Taylor kicked my foot.  I grabbed for his ankle, missed and it dawned on me that he didn't really belong there.  

"Good news," he said, arms crossed triumphantly.

I died for a split second.  The blood drained from my face, leaving me chilled.  My heart stopped and my breath held.  Oh shit.

"Woah, okay. Not that good," Taylor put his hands up.  Whatever he was going to say disappeared and he shook his head that it wasn’t the end of the lockout already.  "Jesus, Jordan."

I pushed a hand across my face, trying to erase the reaction.  The panic had been strong but momentary, like waking up to a phone ringing in the middle of the night.  It wasn't what I wanted him to see.  "Sorry," I mumbled.  Another lecture would be waiting later, when my heartbeat stopped skipping.  "What's up?"

Taylor dropped onto the bench next to me.  "NHLPA signed my waiver. When I'm better, I can play here."

We were all in denial so long about the lockout that we didn't consider all the ways it could affect us.  Taylor was on injured reserve - the team couldn't make a roster move without activating him, which couldn't be done till he was cleared.  The lockout froze the roster.  Ryan and I were sent to OKC before that happened - Taylor was not.  Once locked out, he was stuck in.  Or not.  The player's union could make an exception.

"Sweet," I refocused my mind on this very good news.  "That's awesome."

He shrugged, mood clearly dampened by my reaction.  "If we're even here that long."

Out on the ice, with no Taylor to bust my chops, I joined Ryan at the the blue line. He was balancing a puck on his blade, turning it over and back quickly without dropping, like Harry Potter with a hockey stick. A few of the Barons players watched him openly.  They had been equal parts happy to see us and wary about our arrival in OKC.  These guys wanted to make the NHL, so playing alongside us was a good step for them.  The Oilers 'rebuilding' was just that - we weren't a good team, yet.  Some of these players could be moving up as soon as there was someplace to move toward.  Still, we were roster spots that had bounced other teammates from the list, and we were always one foot out the door.  We were like visiting cousins, and no one was quite sure if they liked us yet.

The lockout had turned my life upside down.  At home, regular people idolized me and my teammates treated me normally.  OKC was the opposite.  Erin's friends didn't give a shit about the NHL but they'd been cool to me as Jordan, some guy from a bar.  In Canada, I would have been secretive about Erin, not holding hands at the movies and making out in parking lots like normal kids.  But now that I could... I wanted to keep doing it.   I wanted to fill this arena with screaming fans almost as much as I wanted no one but her to look at me twice.

One of the Barons tried Ryan's puck flipping trick.  He dropped it twice before shooting it down the ice and skating away.  

"You inviting Erin for tomorrow?"

Opening Day in Oklahoma City.  I had hoped that by the time it arrived I would be gone.   "Yeah," I said.  Of course I was. "Going to be weird though."

Ryan tossed the puck, slapped it out of midair and missed his target by an inch.  "Yup."
____

"There's a picture of you in the paper," I picked up the phone.  "It doesn't really do you justice."  Jordan just laughed.  If he'd ever Googled himself he knew he didn't always photograph well. ”So, opening night," I said.  According to the paper it was a really big deal.  Based on what I'd learned about Jordan, they didn't know the half of it.

"Will you come? I... I'd love if you did."

My cheeks got hot - it would be only half as hard as Jordan was blushing right now.  This was like the captain of the football team asking me to prom.  Which had deifnitely never happened.

"I would love to see you play, Jordan.  According to this, tickets in Edmonton are a hundred bucks a game.  Here they're only twelve."

"You don't have to buy them."

"Really? 'Cause some cute guy gave me a hundred dollar bill as a tip, I was looking for something special to spend it on."  Of course that bill had Jordan's phone number on it, and wasn't really going anywhere.  Across the cafe table from where I was sitting, Darcy pretended to throw up.

"Wow, he must've really wanted your attention," Jordan said.

God, he is perfect.

"He already had it."

A big part of me wanted Jordan to ask if he could see me today.  Okay, all of me wanted that.  I only had a few hours before work, so that would keep us from doing anything we were clearly ready to do, but trying not to.  Maybe it was better to be safe.  "Can I bring Darcy and Amanda?" I asked.  That made Darcy sit up straight and nod enthusiastically.  "You should check with Ryan, though, Darcy's kinda...."

She snatched the phone right out of my hand.  "Do no such thing, Jordan."  He said something and she laughed.  "Oh my God... okay... yeah, I promise.  See you tomorrow, stud."

"What?" I asked when she hung up.  

Darcy smiled.  "He said girls ask Ryan to marry him all the time at games. I should just ask for sex."

"Jesus, Darcy." I gave myself a facepalm.  "He's a kid!"

She reached over and mussed my hair.  "Oh keep your pants on. I'm just flirting with him!"

"I don't trust you."

"You shouldn't be trusting Amanda.  Where do you think that slut is right now?"

It took a moment.  "WHAT?"

Darcy nodded with satisfaction.  "Yup.  He called her yesterday and while you and Jordan were remaking High School Musical at the movies, she and Taylor were having grown up date night.  She was," Darcy checked the time on her phone, "still there an hour ago when I texted her."

"But she's...," I stuttered.  Amanda was the least likely of us to spend the night with a guy she just met.

Darcy looked pleased.  "I know!  I'm so proud!  And before you say anything, he already invited her to the game tomorrow.  All of us, actually.  Guess he didn't tell Jordan."

"Didn't stop long enough, you mean."

"And," Darcy cut me off, "he is going to be playing here when he's healed or whatever.  Some union said he could.  So he's staying."

"For now," I said in my doom and gloom voice.

Darcy ignored it, since it meant Taylor was at least kind of a nice guy who had already made a second date before he took Amanda home on the first one.  “Don’t be jealous that she’s getting some while you insist on playing 1849 with your boyfriend.  If you don’t want to see Jordan naked, then don’t.  I mean, he’s kinda short for a Storm Trooper, if you know what I mean.”

I glared at her.  “Jordan’s fucking hot and you know it.  Speaking of jealous.”

“So you do want to,” she clarified.

“Yes!  But it hasn’t even been two weeks!  What is wrong with waiting a little while?”

Darcy tilted her head. “Nothing, if you have all the time in the world.  I’m not saying do something dumb, Er.  I’m saying if you like him, the clock is ticking.  Are you gonna feel better when he leaves because you didn’t?  Or are you going to feel like shit either way, may as well feel good now while you can?”

I raked a hand through my hair and looked away.  That was exactly the reasoning that kicked in every time I saw Jordan’s perfectly imperfect smile.

“Just as well. Taylor told Amanda no sex on game days, so Jordan would be left jerking it anyway today.”

I slapped her arm.  Hard.

"See?  I have to corrupt Ryan because you bitches left me with nothing else!" Darcy cried.

"There's a whole team full of guys."

She smiled and leaned back in her chair.  "I think I'm going to really like hockey."

All through work that day, I kept looking for Jordan just in case.  Sundays were football after football, new faces all the time, but never his.  Too bad, I really felt like kissing his socks off.  I thought about texting him exactly that, but knew he'd come running in the door.  Tomorrow was a big day for him and he was not even my boyfriend.  I was just a little obsessed.  The evening flew by, no empty tables and no rest.  When I got home all I could do was think of him as I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke to a text.

Jordan: Breakfast?

I cursed him for the twenty minutes I spent getting ready.  Last minute dates are exciting unless you were rolling out of bed to get there.  Hairbrush, toothbrush, mascara wand.  I pulled on jeans and yanked a plain black sweater over my head.  Then I hoped it had been a long time since Jordan had gotten any, so he would be desperate enough to still find my mess attractive.  Thirty minutes after his message, I pulled into the restaurant driveway.  He was standing outside the door.  I almost drove through the front of the diner because I was looking at him.

Damn.

Somebody had been up for a while.  Maybe even been sweating and flexing at practice.  He wore a navy blue sweater with jeans, the collar of a plaid shirt sticking out at his neck and hands stuffed in his pockets.  Healthy, strong, skin glowing... he looked like an ad for back to school shopping.

It's been one damned day since I saw him, I thought, forcing me feet to walk.

"You are gorgeous," he said as I approached.

I ran the last ten yards.
_____

Today was the day.  My day to have a slice of normal life back.  On the ice, in a game - nothing else mattered.  Off the ice, life wasn't so bad.  Erin was beautiful and I told her so.  She thanked me with a little bit of tongue.

Let 'em put that in the paper.

"Are you nervous?" she asked after ordering eggs.

"Always a little before every game."

"How are the Barons doing?"

I had been asked that question by every person since the day I arrived.  "It feels good. I'm used to playing with Ryan, so that's the same. The rest, we'll see.  Did you hear Taylor's going to play here?"

Erin raised an eyebrow like she knew something else.

"Did he call you?"

"Not me."

"Who?"

She took such a long, slow sip of orange juice that I would have traded places with that straw in a heartbeat.  Instead my spoon clattered to the floor.

"Sorry," I mumbled, reaching for it.  If Taylor was getting down with one of Erin's friends, I could not be across the table while she tied something in a knot with her tongue. Unless it was my tongue.  Not the morning of my first game with my new team in front of this new girl.  

I gritted my teeth.  The rescued spoon bent a little in my grip.

"He called Amanda."

I waited for Erin to elaborate, but all I got was another straw kiss. She kept her long lashes down and I knew she was torturing me on purpose.  "And?"

"And he probably kept calling her name all night.". Her eyes flashed - a hundred ways she'd like to make me say her name in the dark.  Too bad I had a hundred and one, ready to go.  An ache thumped me right in the crotch.  Erin moved the straw back to her lips.

"Stop," I said without thinking.  "Please."

Definitely impressive.  Right before I hit the ice to face twenty five angry guys with weapons, Erin reduced me to a middle school mess with nothing more than a glass of juice.

"Sorry," she said quietly.  "But I'm kinda jealous."

Why was I wearing a collar?  It was strangling me, I pulled at it awkwardly.  "I... He... I mean, he can't...."

"It's okay, he's staying here.  For now."

She could have just reached over and punched me.  Maybe she did because I saw stars.  My brain, heart and hormones all revved like an engine - the red lights had just turned green.  The spoon got the worst of it.

"For now," I said stupidly.

She used two hands to peel my fingers from the spoon, her warm skin delivering as much force as her words.  I flinched as her thumb slipped into my palm,  rubbing the sensitive skin.  It was the same thing she'd done in the movie theater only this time, no apologies.  The sensation coursed into my  veins and up my arm, then straight through my heart and into my feet.  It took all my force of will to close my hands over hers and stop it.

"Erin," my voice cracked.  "I can't...."

I can't throw you on this table or take you in that booth or continue to be a nice guy if you provoke me to madness.

Another long pause where she let me die.  I untwisted our fingers and held her hand against the table.  "I can't... on game days."

"Oh!" she exclaimed in the fakest voice possible, throwing up her hands in stage surprise.  "Oh yeah.  Everybody knows that!"

My mouth hung open.  "You are cruel.”

All dimples with that damned smile.  Erin knew exactly what she’d been doing.

"I'm going to have to kill you," I threatened.

"Not on game day," she teased.

"Fine, after."

"Well then it won't be game day anymore, will it?"  She moved the straw so close to her mouth that I licked my lips.  "Think of all the things you could do instead."

I groaned.  The whole place heard, then saw me put my head down on the table.  Erin just laughed.  On cue, the breakfast arrived.

"Okay, sugar?" Our motherly waitress asked.

"No," I said.

"Yes," Erin said.  "He's just nervous for his first game tonight.  Plays for the Barons."

"Oh yeah? I hear they got some new guys the year, some big deal pro guys."

"True story," Erin said.

"Well, you'll do great kid.  Finish your breakfast now."  She actually patted my shoulder.  I stared into the coffee and wanted to die.  Two heartbeats later, Erin was in the seat next to me.  She pulled her pancakes and eggs across the table, grabbed her fork and pushed her leg against mine.  I abandoned my silverware and ran my hand up her back.

There's only one kind of kiss that's acceptable for a restaurant.  It was one one-millionth of the kiss I had for her.  But even just my closed lips against hers for a moment was like being hit by a bus.

"God, I am SO going to finish my breakfast," I said, heart pounding from the visions in my head.  

Erin swirled syrup onto her pancakes then dipped her fork and tasted it.  The long, slow pull from between her lips nearly cost my new spoon it's life.  Then she grinned.

"Mmm, Canadian.  They say it's the best kind."
_____

There's mean, and then there's international prisoner treatment standard violation mean.  Jordan's blue eyes were black with the flood of testosterone I was causing.  And I was thoroughly enjoying myself.  Well, not as thoroughly as some people, but that could be fixed soon.

My mind changed about Jordan when I saw him waiting by the door.  He didn't sit without me - he didn't even go inside without me.  In our short time together he'd been a perfect gentleman.  This was a nice guy, a good guy, and those didn't come around too often.  His crazy work circumstance aside, Jordan was the best shot I'd had in a long time at finding that.

So I decided, somewhere around where his collar poked out of his sweater, that I was going to let this be what I could have, while I could have it.  Either way he would leave someday and damn Darcy for being right.

I kissed him, just a little one.  He leaned in hard, practically purring, and I knew stopping wasn’t the only thing getting hard at this table.  "Okay, I won’t tease you,," I said.

"Maybe you should.  I could skate through everyone on the ice right now, get the game over nice and quick."

We laughed our way through the rest of breakfast, keeping the situation on simmer.  Touching under the table, just our legs, helped absorb some of the energy.  When we were done the waitress wished him luck in the game.  "Look for him in the paper tomorrow!" I said.  

We walked to the far side of the parking lot, where he'd parked.  I went to his passenger side door and waited.  

"Are we going somewhere?"

"Get in," I told him.  

We both climbed in and closed the doors.  Jordan looked at me.

"Buckle your seat belt."

He did.

"Good." I twisted in my seat, up onto the center console of his rented BMW, the lowered myself right into his lap.  Jordan was laughing as he hit the button to move the seat back.  We patiently waited, staring at each other, as it made enough room for me to slide ride down onto his thighs.

"Smart people, these Germans," Jordan said. "And tall.  Won't everyone see us?"

"Nope."  I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.  He was right there with me, one hand pushing up the outside of my thigh until he had a palmful of my ass.  The other cheated beneath the back of my shirt.  His touch was warm, his hands strong.  He kissed me back for all he was worth.  My heart raced in anticipation - maybe I couldn’t wait as long as a good girl should.  We didn’t have that kind of time.  But I could make the waiting seem like forever, just for fun.

Two minutes later the windows were all fogged up.
__