Chapter 15

(When I steal something I like to admit it, so this is a bit I’ve stolen and reworked from the movie ‘Bed of Roses’ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3SjJPSTsM7M 6:35)

“They took a break between like eleven and eight but they’ve been pretty much coming every hour since then,” Mya mused as she signed for yet another dozen roses, pink ones this time, and closed the door on the young delivery boy. “I don’t have anything else to put them in. I just sort of have them stacked on the floor now.”

“Well, I guess you have to give the guy some credit for persistence anyway,” Steve laughed on the other end of the line.

“But I told him to stay away from me,” Mya moaned, standing in the middle of her apartment, with hardly a bare inch of floor visible beneath what seemed like a sea of long white boxes full of red and white and pink roses. She had one vase to her name, which she’d put the first dozen long stemmed red roses into. Since then she’d been filling Big Gulp cups and souvenir cups and then she’d resorted to cutting the tops off of milk cartons. It really was so white trash.

“And technically he is,” Steve reminded her and she had to admit he was right.

“He must have bought an entire flower shop...maybe even a warehouse or something. It’s a good thing I don’t have hay fever,” Mya sighed, putting the latest delivery down with the rest of the boxes littering her floor. “This is crazy. I don’t get it. He’s not even interested in me.”

“Uh...that’s obviously not true. I hate to break it to you like this My, but a guy doesn’t spend that kind of cash on anyone unless he’s really interested.”

“He’s not though. I mean, c’mon, I’ve given him every opportunity to not act like a complete jackass and every time I think he might actually be a good guy, he does something stupid and....”

“He’s a human being My, not Superman. So he fucks up. You’re not without your faults you know,” he laughs again and Mya pauses in her pacing and allows herself to smile. “Put the poor bastard out of his misery and call him. You know the deliveries aren’t going to stop until you do.”

“He’s in love with his dead girlfriend. He doesn’t want me, he just wants a live body to screw,” Mya complained, standing in the middle of her apartment and turning in a slow circle, taking in all of the boxes.

“That kid could get pussy anywhere My. Believe me. Guys like him in the army...it’s like peanut butter....”

“Yeah, I know. Spreads easy. Thanks for reminding me that I’m a whore on top of everything else,” she sighed, deciding to move a box from off of one of the kitchen chairs so she could actually sit.

“You’re the one who gave the milk away,” he chuckled, which made Mya shake her head.

“You men are so hypocritical. Why can you sleep around but us girls are supposed to be pure and sweet and untouched? Who’s going to sleep with you when you sleep around if we’re all so fucking pure?”

“That’s easy. The sluts, of which you aren’t one My. I’ve known you how long? You don’t give it away that easily. You must like the guy.”

“I do...which is stupid, because with him...I am so punching above my weight class you know?”

“No you’re not. He is. Especially the way he’s been fucking up. But he is trying to make up for it My, so...give the poor idiot a chance. Call him. See what he wants. I mean c’mon, if he just wanted pussy, those roses are what? Twenty bucks a dozen? He could have had a pretty decent hooker by now for the kind of money he’s spent trying to suck up to you. Don’t you think?” Mya couldn’t argue the point and by the bemused silence on the other end of the line, Steve knew it too. It was kind of annoying, but she rolled her eyes as she pushed herself to her feet and grunted, which was as close as she was going to get to admitting it.

“I’ll go ask him to stop, in person, will that make you happy?”

“You just want to drool on him again.” Mya hung up the phone before she started to swear at it, hurling it at the couch as she headed for the bedroom to get dressed.

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“Do you want me to come with you?” Jordy asked, turning off the ignition in his pick up and turning toward his friend. Sidney just shook his head as he turned his attention to the walkway and the snow piled up around the grave markers. Some were cleared, those that had regular visitors, most were not, lying somewhere under the snow. Hers was marked with a gold speckled poinsettia and a tiny artificial Christmas tree. He rolled the batteries over and over in his hand that would keep her tree lit and sparkling over her until his next visit.

“No, I’m good. I’ll be right back,” he promised quietly, his hand already on the door, bracing himself for the cold blast that would hit him as soon as he opened it. Taking a deep breath, Sidney pushed the door open, but felt Tish’s hand on his shoulder. She dangled a garland of holly and mistletoe by a red velvet ribbon. Sidney took it from her feeling a weight of emotion settle on his shoulders.

“Take this for me,” Tish said, wiping at her eyes. Sidney nodded and stepped out of the truck and into the snow.

He took the few steps off of the path in the deep snow. It was definitely a winter wonderland here, unlike in the rest of the city where the past few days of snow had already turned to dirty, discoloured mush. The trees that surrounded the cemetery were heavy with snow, their branches bending low over their charges. Some of the surrounding wrought iron fence was decorated with brightly coloured garlands, some store bought but more of them home made chains of construction paper.

Somehow it didn’t seem as lonely and forlorn here today as it often did, but it did seem more poignant than ever, so many people to be missed at a time when families should be together, and here he was, saying goodbye.

He bent over her plaque and brushed some of the fresh snow from it, feeling the raised letters of her name even through the Gore-Tex gloves he was wearing to protect his hands from the cold, bitter wind. He felt the familiar ball of emotion forming in his throat, but today it was worse, it came immediately and all at once. Not gradually, building the longer he stayed. Growing until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

Today it was immediate and Sidney bit down on his lip to try and hold back a sob, but it came anyway.

“I really hope this is what you want. I feel like it is but...shouldn’t this be easier?” he asked, but no one answered, just the sound of the wind whistling through the heavily weighted branches. Sidney laid the garland Tish had given him around the small brass rectangle and then reached for the batteries in his pocket. He lifted the small tree up, carefully turning it over and opening the small aperture in the plastic base and shaking out the dead batteries. Just as carefully, he replaced them with the new batteries and then put the now blinking tree at the corner of the grave.

Just those few small actions had helped to calm his jangled nerves and help get his emotions under control. Taking another deep breath, Sidney ran his fingers over her name once more and then placed the one rose he’d taken from the first dozen he’d had sent to Mya’s over the marker.

“So...I might not come to visit next week,” he began, taking another breath as a tear escaped and slid down his cheek. Wiping it away he closed his eyes and brought her smiling face to mind. “I’m trying. I’m doing my best,” he whispered. “I just wish...I wish....” His voice became a sob and he covered his face with his hands and let the tears flow. He couldn’t keep them back anymore.

He was so confused. Here was this woman he loved. He’d never really been in love before. Sure there’d been puppy love, but nothing like he’d felt for Randi. Now there was Mya and even though it felt like he was somehow dishonouring Randi’s memory, he couldn’t seem to keep the woman out of his thoughts. Once it had only been Randi’s name on his lips as he fell asleep now it seemed to only be Mya’s. And it was thoughts of her that kept him awake, sweating, needing her, wanting her.

Yet, when he did think of her, he found Randi smiling at him, and he felt as if she was encouraging him. Every time he began to dream of her, Mya was always right there, near by and Randi was fading away, further and further from his reach.

“If this is what you want...I just wish I knew,” he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. His breath hung in icy clouds around his head, like a halo as his fingers brushed the last of the snow that clung to the small marker before he took one last deep breath to steady himself before he turned and headed back towards the idling truck.

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Mya stood near the doors that everyone seemed to going in and out of, eyeing the security with trepidation. Fingering the credentials she’s been given for her upcoming interview with the Steelers, she wondered if it would get her past security, if they’d notice it was for the wrong event. Deciding not to take the chance, she was about to turn around and walk back to the bus stop when she felt a hand on her shoulder, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She spun around, half expecting to see his hazel eyes staring back at her, but instead it was that hairy Frenchman, that friend of Kris’s that had been with him at Blush.

“Before I help you walk past those guards, who are you looking for? Kris or Sid?” Mya searched the bearded face, the happy go lucky grin and the kind eyes and decided that there probably wasn’t a wrong answer to that question. Instead, she held up one of the long stemmed red roses that had been delivered and raised her eyebrow.

“I need to talk to someone about the flower shop they’ve opened in my apartment.” Max nodded, a perceptive smile on his face that said that he knew all about the massive and ongoing flower deliveries.

“Tell you what, I’ll get you inside where it’s warm, and then I’ll bring him to you. I’m guessing you two will want a little...privacy for this conversation?”

Mya nodded and accepted the arm he offered. She linked her arm with his and together they walked right past the guards. In fact, both of the big burly men that made way for them, pushing the doors open for them like they were royalty, gave him the kind of smile that suggested Max was a lady killer, the type of guy who would bring a pretty girl in before a game just to help him ‘loosen up’. Mya ignored the way they looked at her. It didn’t really matter what they thought of her right now. She wasn’t sure they’d ever see her again anyway.

In fact she hadn’t really made up her mind what she was going to say to Sidney when she did see him. She hadn’t really thought past this, getting inside. She’d almost made up her mind that she was going to have to wait for him to come out and even then, she hadn’t figured out how to make him see her past all the other girls standing behind the security gates. Now that Max had lead her inside and she was suddenly at the centre of what seemed like a bustling bee-hive, her mind was racing.

“I’ll leave you here,” Max said, bending his head near to hers’ so that he wasn’t overheard by the passing equipment guys and the nearby reporters hovering outside their dressing room. He escorted her into what looked a lot like a doctor’s office, complete with examining table, all kinds of dressing for wounds, tongue depressors and bottle after bottle of muscle rub. “Let me go see if Sid’s here yet.” He closed the door behind him, leaving her standing in the room, alone.

The room was warm, almost oppressively so. Mya shucked her heavy winter coat, laying it across the table. She thought about taking off her toque, but decided against it, telling herself she wouldn’t be here for long, and besides she hadn’t brought a brush with her.

Turning back towards the door, Mya was pulling off her black leather gloves when the door opened, almost as if it was being wrenched off of its’ hinges, slamming into the wall behind it with a resounding crash. Mya yelped, her heart pounding with surprise as she turned to see Sidney skidding into the room in his stocking feet.

Damn. It was so unfair how hot he looked in the body hugging black spandex. Mya had to remind herself that she was angry at him, even though her body was reacting in ways that were the opposite of annoyed and the fact that he was giving her simple black dress and matching black leggings the long once over was not helping in the least.

“This has to stop,” she said, holding the single red rose towards him, trying to sound stern. His gaze focussed on the rose for a moment before he finally met her gaze. “My apartment looks like a funeral home.”

“You said to stay away. I had to do something to get you to talk to me,” he began, looking a little too pleased with how well his plan had turned out as far as Mya was concerned.

“I don’t get it,” Mya sighed, twirling the rose between her fingers as she looked down at it, mostly to stop herself from staring lustily at the way his muscular chest looked in that clinging spandex shirt. “You’re supposed to be the most eligible bachelor in the State. Why are you doing this? Why are you wasting this on me?”

“I don’t think I’m wasting anything,” he replied softly, taking the few steps necessary to close the distance between them, carefully plucking the rose from her hand and placing it on the examination table before reaching to tug the knit cap from her head, his other hand brushing through her hair. Mya’s breath caught in her throat as his gaze settled back on her face. He looked so...he looked like he was looking at something...beautiful, wonderful and he was looking at her.

______________________________________________________________

“Your girlfriend’s here,” Max grinned, kicking him in the shin with the toe of his dress shoe. Sidney looked up at him, his hands still tugging up his sport sock.

“Girlfriend?” Sidney asked, narrowing his eyes at his friend, ready for the barb he was sure was going to follow.

“Yeah, that girl you and Kris have been seeing. The one from Blush, she’s waiting in the training room.”

Sidney didn’t need to hear more than that, he was already on his feet and half way down the hall, skidding around the corner, nearly running into Mario who caught his young star in his hands.

“Running? In your socks? I thought it was Austin for a moment.” Mario looked amused, to anyone who didn’t know him as well as Sidney did, but his young charge could see the tension around Mario’s blue eyes, the tightness to his lips. “Since when did jogging around the corridors become part of your pre-game ritual?”

“Always?” Sidney said hopefully, bouncing on the spot, eager to be further down the hall, to see her, to explain. Mario gazed at him intently, his icy blue eyes searching Sidney’s face. For his part, Sidney tried not to let the older man see just how eager he was to escape. Mario would want him to be focussed on the game. Mid day games were difficult enough. They threw a player’s schedule off, fucked with his rituals and everyone knew just how tightly Sidney stuck to his rituals, how superstitious he was. Mario would worry. Sid wasn’t. It was something he’d learned with Randi. Sometimes it was good to throw caution to the wind, change shit up.

Besides, he felt quite sure if he could just explain to Mya, if she would see, if they could come to some sort of agreement before he had to go out on the ice, that he wouldn’t just be skating out there. He’d be flying.

“Pre game warm-up in twenty minutes,” Mario said quietly, lifting his big, heavy hand from Sidney’s shoulder and patting his cheek, like he would with Austin when he was letting him get away with something behind Nathalie’s back. Sidney grinned up at him, just as Austin would do, and then raced down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of the trainer’s room, pulling the door open using his momentum, sending it crashing into the wall.

She looked...amazing. She looked like the cover of some high fashion magazine standing there in knee high riding boots, skin tight black leggings and a simple black dress that hugged her curves and then fell away in a gentle slope from her waist. Her hair was down, with snow still clinging to the dark waves here and there, a purple knit cap pulled down so it was almost like bangs.

She was staring at him, hunger coming off of her in waves, but she didn’t move, didn’t run towards him and cover him with kisses. That only happened in movies anyway. He hadn’t expected that. What she did do was pick up a single rose from where she’d laid her jacket and she held it out to him, her face not quite as blank a canvas as he guessed she wanted it to be.

“This has to stop,” she said, her voice seeming not quite as steady as she probably hoped it sounded to him. “My apartment looks like a funeral home.” He had imagined laying her down on a sea of rose petals. He pictured it now, her pale skin pressed down on a sea of red, like her lips. He wanted very much to kiss those lips now.

“You said to stay away. I had to do something to get you to talk to me.” He couldn’t help but smile as he watched the way his words irritated her, making her cute little nose scrunch up, her green eyes narrow. She wanted to be mad at him, her hand even squeezed harder around the stem of the rose, but her eyes were saying something else entirely.

“I don’t get it.” She was still trying to look angry, but her eyes were wandering over his chest, his shoulders, and downwards. He didn’t think about it much, but he’d seen a few women reporters checking him out when he was in his under armour. He’d felt a little uncomfortable then. He didn’t now. In fact, he stood straighter, and he took a deep breath, making his chest fill out. “You’re supposed to be the most eligible bachelor in the State. Why are you doing this? Why are you wasting this on me?”

Wasting it? He almost laughed, but managed to bite down on his bottom lip and keep his thoughts to himself as he crossed the floor towards her. He took the rose from her hand and put it on the table on top of her jacket and reached up to pull off the knit cap that was covering her beautiful hair.

“I don’t think I’m wasting anything,” he assured her as he ran his fingers through her hair, easing the static electricity that had some of it standing up on end, smoothing it, feeling the silky weight of it running through his fingers. For just one brief moment, he thought that this felt nothing like how he’d felt for Randi, and then he chased that thought away by kissing Mya, catching her lips with his and kissing her until he couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t...don’t play with me Crosby,” she whispered, her eyes having closed and stayed closed. “Before you rip my heart out...please just...think about it.” Her cheek was resting his hand and she had such a pained look on her face that it made him want to wrap her up in his arms and cotton wool and bubble wrap and never let anything hurt her again. He’d done it though and he had to undo it. He had to take the pain out of her face and out of her heart.

“I’ve thought about it...about you.... I’ve thought about pretty much nothing else since we made love and...I didn’t think I was ready but...I am...I am now,” he whispered, brushing his lips over her cheek, the shell of her ear, the soft velvet of her eyelids. She looked up at him, her emerald eyes flashing a warning, but the deep hurt, and the hunger mixed there were all the warning he needed. “I’m ready to prove it to you. Just...stay, watch the game and then after...we’ll talk, all night if we have to...although I sort of hope it won’t take all night,” he added breathlessly as he became all too aware of the soft curves of her body pressed up against his.

“If you hurt me again,” she whispered, the admonition in her eyes turning them into dark jewels, “you’ll never see me again.” He nodded, a shiver running down his spine. It was a threat he believed.

“Heard and understood,” he promised, cupping her face in his hands and searching her gaze, hoping she could see exactly how serious he was taking her warning.

“Then I’ll stay...and we’ll talk about this...whatever this is,” she added in a hoarse whisper, disengaging herself and taking a step back, giving them both room to breathe.

“I’ll have someone take you up to the box. I’ll see you after the game,” he smiled, letting go of breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. She nodded, reaching for her jacket and draping it over her arm, like a shield, in front of her. He noted the body language, knowing he had his work cut out for him later, and then turned to go.

“You’ll call the florist?” she called after him. “Tell them the stop delivering the flowers?”

“I promise,” he grinned, turning back to her. “But I’m glad they worked.” She rolled her eyes at him but she smiled all the same, and already he felt just a little like floating.