Chapter 26

**First and foremost thanks for the patience. I don't normally take this long to write a chapter but I had a lot of running to the loo this week & yeah I get that that's too much info, but I wanted to put it out there in case this doesn't make sense.


“Merry Christmas,” Steve grinned, clinking his mug of rum and eggnog against Mya’s as he joined her on the couch, wearing his brand new festive socks and matching Ho Ho Ho red sweater. “Another year, we’re still here.” Mya laughed and took a sip of her eggnog, making a face at how strong the beverage was. “Lightweight.”

“It’s ten in the morning,” Mya reminded him, accepting the stocking he dropped into her lap.

“Egg...that’s breakfast isn’t it?” Steve countered, promptly turning his stocking upside down and dropping the entirety of its contents on to the couch between them. “Besides, I’m pretty sure it’s five o’clock somewhere.”

“Just tell me there’s an orange in here somewhere,” Mya coughed, digging more carefully into her stocking, pulling out the usual Playgirl magazine that her Aunt had filled her stocking with ever since she was sixteen, much to her mother’s displeasure. It made her smile, despite the sting of missing both women at this time of year. Still, at least it seemed by the package under the tree that had arrived some time the day before, she hadn’t been entirely disowned. So there was that.

Mya pulled the obligatory mandarin orange and began peeling it, careful to keep the peel in one piece. That was supposed to be good luck wasn’t it, she thought to herself. Or was it just to get that elephant shape?

“Okay, maybe I should get you some coffee, preferably the heavily caffeinated kind,” Steve mumbled, giving her a shove with his foot and bringing her back to the present. “Who are you and what have you done with Mya?”

“What? I’m not allowed to be...contemplative?” she asked, blinking at him sleepily.

“No, and especially not on Christmas day. You’re usually bouncing off the walls. What is with you?” Steve replied, still looking over at her like she was someone he didn’t recognize.

“I’m tired. I’m allowed to be tired aren’t I?” Mya replied, hiding a yawn behind her hand. Steve narrowed his eyes at her and then shook his head as he pushed himself back up onto his feet and headed for the kitchen.

“Not as long as the reason is what I think it is,” Steven called back from the kitchen. Mya grinned, though she felt the tips of her ears begin to burn at the idea of her Uncle knowing about her sex life. “Is it what I think it is?” he asked, peeking around the corner and grinning at her which only caused Mya’s entire face to heat up.

“He stayed last night, if that’s what you’re trying to ask,” Mya muttered, trying to hide behind her mug but another sip of the spiked egg nog had her looking for somewhere to spit out the vile liquid in her mouth. Whoever thought that alcohol goes in milk products...she thought to herself, putting the mug down on the coffee table and pushing it as far away from her as she could. She was decidedly thirsty but that was just not going to do it.

“I could tell by all the bling,” Steve smiled and lifted his eyebrows as he slid back onto the sofa beside her, “must be nice to have a sugar daddy.” Mya opened her mouth to argue but shut it again. He was being facetious and she was being oversensitive.

Speaking of which....

Mya pinched the bridge of her nose and screwed her eyes shut. That pain in the back of her head was back. She’d had it for a while at the club and the day before....

“I need something to eat besides this orange,” she grumbled, spilling her gifts and his onto the floor as she rose and then promptly stumbling dangerously close to the Christmas tree before Steven caught her. She found herself looking up into his concerned face and felt the flat of his hand on her forehead.

“When’s the last time you ate something? How long have you been having these headaches? Are you drinking enough water? How late were you up last night?” Mya chuckled and pushed her uncle away, fending off his well meant ministrations.

“What is this – twenty questions? Holy shit Sherlock Holmes. Just get me some fucking toast and quit grillin’ me,” Mya laughed, stumbling to the fridge and pulling a bottle of water out of it, twisting off the lid and gulping half of it down before leaning back against the counter. “Mmmmuch better.”

“So it’s like that is it? Hung over and hormonal. Sometimes you remind me so much of....”

“Yeah yeah, less talking, more toasting,” Mya laughed wiggling her way up onto the counter and reaching over to open the cupboard where the bread and crackers and other snack foods were kept. “Ohhh chips,” she smiled, reaching for a bag of Herr’s Boardwalk salt and vinegar chips.

“Hormonal...,” Steve muttered, causing Mya to turn and glare at him. “What? You’re denying your pms’ing?”

“Why is it you men always go there? A woman wants salt and it’s all about her vajayjay? Christ,” Mya muttered, ripping the bag open and reaching in for a handful of crunchy salty goodness, closing her eyes to enjoy the sheer bliss of the salt dissolving on her tongue. “You guys just wish you had a biological reason to eat whatever you want.”

“We do. It’s called watching Football. Speaking of which, where is your boy toy today?” Mya opened her eyes and stared at her uncle, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head.

“He plays hockey. Now I know you Americans have a tough time understanding ice sports....”

“I know who he is and exactly what he does. I’m just not interested in anything that’s not a blood sport,” the one time Marine said, grinning. He was baiting her and Mya knew it, but now that she had some sustenance going into her stomach, she felt up to having a good old fashioned argument.

“Blood sport? Let me tell you about this guy that used to play for the Pens named Jarkko....”
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“Put that thing away, you’re going to blind someone with that thing,” Cookie laughed as he walked by with a roll of tape in one hand and three sticks in the other. “What is that, two carats?”

“Three,” Sidney corrected him quietly as he placed the platinum set cushion cut diamond ring back in its box.

“Tabernak!” Sidney looked up at his friend and teammate and then down at the small velvet box in his hand. “Merde Sainte! Sacrament! What is wrong with you?”

“Leave him alone Max,” Jordy sighed, stowing his runners beneath the bench before reaching for his skates.

“Why? Just tell me why? Why must you forever be trying to tie yourself to the first pussy that comes along?” Max insisted, standing over Sidney, his thick hands rolled into fists that looked more like mallets used to break down walls than fingers. Sidney turned the small velvet box over in his hands thoughtfully. He had his reasons. He didn’t expect Max to understand.

“I thought you were over this Talbo,” Flower piped up, a toothy grin on his face, the exact opposite expression to the dark thundercloud that filled Max’s eyes. “I thought you were coming around to our way of thinking. Nice girl, cooking, cleaning, warming our bed....” Flower’s grin faded around the edges when Max turned his dark glare on the pale young goal tender.

“This is him we’re talking about,” Max growled in Flower’s direction, “not good little Catholic boys like you,”, and as he so often did when faced with any act of aggression that wasn’t on the ice, Fleur slunk silently away. Sidney watched him go as if he was watching his best friend disappear off in the distance forever. The last thing he needed before a game was yet another one of Max’s tirades. Usually Fleur could distract the stocky forward and he knew the only other hope lay in the long haired defenseman sitting across the room but Sidney knew damn well there would be no help coming from that corner.

“Ease up Max. Save it for the game,” the older, and thank god, wiser Cookie tapped Max on the back of his shins but Max didn’t waver.

“No I will not fucking ease up. C’mon! Who’s with me here? Why does our captain have to pussy up every time a cute piece of tail goes by and gives him a fucking wink? Sacre crisse! Por fucking quoi? Why can’t you just fuck the girls like the rest of us do?” Sidney glanced up at his heated line mate and then back down at the velvet box. He hadn’t the first clue why he couldn’t enjoy a one night stand like Max seemed to. He just knew that he couldn’t. But he didn’t get a chance to open his mouth and tell the furry Frenchman that. Not before the other hirsute Frenchman put his hands on Max’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

“Mon ami...I don’t know how, exactly to explain to you but...elle n’est pas d’aucune fille ordinaire. Elle est quelque chose différente tout à fait. If he loves her...well it’s no wonder,” Tanger said, his voice quiet, strained as he looked over Talbot’s shoulder and met Sidney’s gaze. “I know exactly how he feels. Exactement.” Tanger gave him a nod and then turned and walked out of the room, heading for the ice.

Sidney watched him go, not entirely sure what to make of the quiet defenseman’s words, except that he couldn’t imagine...no, he didn’t want to imagine what he felt like. Looking back down at the small velvet box in his hand, all Sidney did know was he couldn’t lose her. He might have slept, breathed and ate hockey before, but now...now he couldn’t breathe without her and the last week...being away from her had only cemented that sentiment in his mind.

Turning his attention back to Max, Sid felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he slipped the box back into his bag before standing and putting his hands on his friend’s shoulder pads just where Tanger’s had been.

“I’m sorry you don’t get it Max but you know, it’s not going to be pretty when you’re ninety and chasing college girls around a bar you know?” He grinned at the idea of it and then gave Max’s cheek a gentle slap before turning to head out of the room himself, whistling all the way.
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Mya lit the last candle and then stepped back to survey her handiwork. She’d spent her first pay check on this dinner and all the accoutrements. The vanilla and jasmine candles, the baseball steaks, the new push up bra and matching thong from Victoria’s secret and last, but not least, the new little black dress. It was actually very tasteful, for her, she thought as she blew out the match and turned to run it under the tap before tossing it in the garbage.

He’d texted to say he’d come to her after the game and Mya had felt her heart flutter in her chest. She’d been just about to go on air, just about to set up the game and she hadn’t been able to keep the grin off of her face as she talked about how his scoring streak was still intact heading into the Olympic break.

Speaking of which, she thought happily as she stuck her head in the oven to check the colour of the crust on her home-made apple pie, her tickets were sitting on her new boss’s desk. She’d only been working at the station for a couple of weeks but they’d decided to send her to Vancouver to do the coverage. It was pretty freaking unbelievable and she couldn’t wait to tell Sidney. Not that he’d have time to see her there. After all he was going to be under an unbelievable amount of pressure to get the gold medal.

Still...Mya grinned to herself as she looked around the darkened, candlelit room. There was always the opportunity for a quickie in the athletes village. How naughty would that be, she mused as she fidgeted with the linen napkins on the table and straightened the chargers for the umpteenth time.

She was nervous. It had been a close game and Sid had rung a couple of shots off the crossbar and had taken an undisciplined penalty in overtime that had cost the team the game. That being the case, she wasn’t sure what was going to happen when he walked in the door. Would he be moody but willing to be cheered up or would he inconsolable? Either way....

Mya picked up the simple blue cardboard box, faded and tattered at the edges with the intertwined gold B’s in the top corner, and opened it. Running her fingers lightly but lovingly over the thick gold band inside, Mya thought about her grandfather and felt the sting of tears filling her eyes.

Christ she missed the old man.

Her grandmother’s rings sat beside it, too tiny for her own finger. But maybe one day, she thought putting the lid back on the box and putting it back on the table beneath her napkin. Maybe one day she’d have a daughter who would be a little more demure and diminutive. Her grandfather, on the other hand, had been a big man, a man who used his hands, a man who when he held you made you feel like you were being hugged by a grizzly. Sid had hands and arms like that she though, smiling to herself. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought her grandfather’s ring might fit him perfectly.

That was, if she got up the courage to ask him the question that was flitting around in her mind like a bat in an empty belfry.

Did women actually do this, she wondered as she peeked into the casserole staying warm on the top of the stove. Did they pop the question? And more importantly, was Sidney old fashioned enough to be offended if she did? Or would he be relieved to have the pressure off of him? Or...god forbid, would he say no?

Mya felt her stomach clench at the thought of his turning her down. Maybe it was too soon, she decided, her hand hovering over the napkin hiding the box from sight.

On the other hand, even if he did say no, the thought of which made her stomach hurt, at least he would know she was all in, she was committed and most importantly that she was ready to do whatever it took to make this work. He’d given her the promise ring and she just wanted to give him something that said ‘mine’ just as much as the ring on her finger did.

Not that he’s be able to wear a wedding ring in public, she realized, her hand sweeping the napkin away as she reached for the box....

Mya’s head snapped up at the sound of a knock on the door. Too late, she thought, her heart beat doubling as she replaced the napkin over the old, frail box. She’d just have to leave it there and hide it later, maybe between courses.
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He’d tried, ever since he’d left the ice, he’d tried to shake the irritation at the loss. It wasn’t just that they’d lost though, Sidney knew. It was that he felt responsible.

No, not felt, he corrected himself. He was responsible. Not only had he been unable to put the biscuit in the fucking basket but he’d taken that stupid, stupid slashing penalty in the first few seconds of overtime.

He’d been getting better at corralling his emotions, controlling them, channelling them into his play but every once in a while....and Ruutu knew his buttons damn him. He’d been ignoring the feisty Fin’s chirping for the entire game but when he’d tripped him on the way back to the bench and there was no call....

Let it go, he told himself as he found himself in front of her door. He’d promised her that he’d come after the game and he did want to see her but the right thing to do was probably turn around and go home, call her and apologize. If he explained about the game, which she’d no doubt seen the highlights – make that low lights – considering she’d have to go over the game on the news tomorrow....

He knocked on the door, his hand moving before his brain had made the decision, and as soon as he heard her moving on the other side of the door, he felt his heart begin to race. His body knew what he needed, even if his brain didn’t fully grasp it.
No sooner had she opened the door than he had her head cradled in his hands and his lips had captured hers’. He kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in a year, like if he didn’t he die and that was exactly how he felt. Like if she didn’t take away the pain he felt in his chest, didn’t help to ease the dishonour he was feeling he’d go insane.

He pushed the door closed with one hand and slid the other down over her breast and felt her gasp into his mouth. His body reacted accordingly and he pressed his groin against hers’ as their tongues duelled for supremacy. Not that he was going to let her get the upper hand, he knew, as he slid his hand down between them and began to push the hem of her dress upwards.

She threw her head back and gasped as he slipped his fingers into her panties and slid them inside of her. He found the pulse in her neck and fastened his teeth around it as she whimpered and pressed down against his hand, her muscles pulling at him, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as pumped his fingers into her.

As satisfying as it was to have her shuddering and whimpering, it wasn’t what he wanted and soon enough, Sidney grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him down the hall and pressed her down onto the bed. His heart was leaping in his chest as he stood there staring down at her and it was on the tip of his tongue to apologize but something in her eyes stopped him.

She gazed up at him, her teeth digging into her full bottom lip, and the look in her eyes told him that not only had he no need to apologize, but that she liked it. He stood there at the end of the bed, stock still, while she lay on the bed before him and ran her hand slowly, achingly slowly, down over her breast, her stomach and lower still until it was inching northward again, taking the hem of her dress with it. Sidney licked his lips as he watched her hand disappear beneath the waist band of her panties, but as much as he wanted to push her hand out of the way and drag her panties off of her, he got the distinct impression that she didn’t want his help and that this was all for him.

He let his jacket drop to the floor and loosened his tie, his gaze fastened to the movement of her fingers beneath the black satin thong, which, from time to time, moved just enough for him to see a flash of smooth, pink skin. It was hot and fucking painful at the same time and he couldn’t get his shirt unbuttoned fast enough and ended up pulling it over his head, balling it up and tossing it impatiently across the room before reaching for the buckle on his belt.

She was getting the upper hand, or he was giving it to her or...or...fuck it. It didn’t matter. He’d forgotten all about the fucking game and that was why he’d come here in the first place.
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Mya licked her lips as his six-pack appeared beneath the hem of his shirt. Her gaze followed his skin, inch by solid inch until his shirt sailed, in a wadded up ball, over her head. He reached for his belt then but she wasn’t done teasing him, which, in his present mood, was probably a dangerous thing and yet she couldn’t resist. He was even more handsome than usual when he was angry. His eyes flashed more gold than brown, like a lion on the prowl and heat radiated off of him in waves.

Pressing the ball of her foot against his hands, she stilled them and then ran her foot up over his abs and then down again. Down, down over his erection that strained and twitched against his suit pants. Biting down on her bottom lip to silence the moan that bubbled up in her throat as she rubbed her clit in slow circles, Mya wrapped her leg around the back of Sidney’s thigh and pulled him toward her.

“I want to watch you,” she whispered as he leaned over her, looking turned on and pained all at once.

“W...watch?” he stammered, as he leaned down as far as he could without kneeling on the bed.

“What’s good for the goose...,” she grinned up at him, whetting her bottom lip with her tongue and then letting her eyes fall closed and sliding her hand down, pushing the satin thong aside.

He moaned then, and Mya imagined his gaze following the movements of her fingers as she dipped them inside of herself as she pulled her knees up and apart to achieve a better angle. When she opened her eyes again he was standing there in front of her, his cock rock hard, and with that upward angle that made it stand up almost straight against his stomach. It was a challenge to make herself look up into his hazel eyes and away from his nearly perfect body.

He looked...sheepish. She couldn’t think of any other word for it as she watched his hand gradually, slowly curl around the width of his cock. He didn’t want to do it, but she could tell he didn’t want her to stop either. He’d already had a bad day, she decided, holding her free hand out to him by way of invitation. She wasn’t going to be the one to torture him further.

He lay down beside her on the bed and leaned over to place a tender kiss on her lips that belied the heat and passion clearly blazing in his eyes. She, in turn, took his hand and guided it down between her legs while she struggled out of her dress.

It was her turn to moan as his fingers took up the work hers had just been doing, except that his were thicker, stronger and with the addition of his lips and teeth at work on her neck, Mya felt herself descending quickly into the abyss.

This was when her body felt like it became one huge g-spot, as if he could touch her anywhere and she would cum immediately for him. He’d learned her body so well, she was almost sure that all it would take was for him to whisper it in her ear and she would cum.

As it was, his teeth digging through the fabric of her new push up bra to find her nipple did it. Her body arched off the bed and she cried out, her nails digging deeply into his back.
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He loved to slide inside of her when she was still riding the edge of the orgasm, her body still taught with the strength of the spasms, her muscles clenching tightly around his dick. He had to breathe and concentrate in order not to have her pull him over the edge, but fuck it felt good! She was so warm and wet and soft all at once and it was easy to forget all about the shitty game and concentrate on making her make those little noises, making her whimper, making her writhe beneath him.
With his hands behind her knees, he pressed her legs wide and back and found that sweet spot that made her breathe quickly, that made her dig her fingers into the quilt and toss her head from side to side, her eyes screwed tightly shut. She was close again. He could feel it.

Using his shoulder to keep her legs in place, he reached down to stroke her clit and watched her bite down on her bottom lip as she squirmed. Pressing harder , Sidney withdrew, almost entirely, until just the head of his cock remained inside of her and still he could feel her muscles clutching hungrily at him.

“Nooo,” she moaned, her eyes snapping open to look up at him with angry eyes. “Don’t stop. Please.” With a chuckle he obliged her, thrusting deep inside of her and she rewarded him with a long, high pitched cry as her body bucked beneath his.

This time he couldn’t hold back, though he wanted to. He wanted to keep going but it felt too good and his body answered hers the only way it knew how. With a deep groan, he spent himself within her, his entire body shuddering with the strength of the orgasm.

No wonder they called it the ‘little death’, he thought as stars swam in the way of his vision. He almost felt like he was outside of himself, like his heart had stopped, like he couldn’t breathe, like the world had stopped around him.

He curled around, his body still quaking, and held her close, nuzzling her hair, and let the warmth of her body and the languid feeling of his muscles relaxing after a strenuous work out pull him towards sleep. He had, after all, played over twenty minutes and his body knew it, even if his mind did not.

She, on the other hand, seemed to have a different agenda altogether.

He felt her fingertips running along the length of his thigh, light, gentle brushes and even as relaxed as he was, as tired and as close to sleep, his body reacted, stirring back to life. He thought about playing possum, lying there with his eyes closed, breathing slowly and evenly and hoping that she would think he was asleep, but her breathy chuckle as his cock came to attention told him it was no use.

“You’re going to have to do the work this time,” he sighed, rolling onto his back.
It was her turn to oblige him, and she straddled him, lowering herself down over him until he was sheathed inside of her. He watched his cock disappear up inside of her. Watched her freshly waxed pink skin meet his and groaned.

She leaned forward, letting her hair fall around his head like a canopy and she grinned down at him.

“I love you,” she smiled, nipping at his lower lip.

“I fucking love you,” he whispered back, reaching around to get a firm grip on her shapely ass, holding her down over him. “Don’t fucking move. I swear I’m going to cum again.”

“You mean like this?” she answered with a grin, sliding forwards and back and tilting her pelvis against his, making little circles with her body still pressed firmly against his. Sidney moaned and shook his head.

“God…so good,” he sighed, pushing up against her and into her. “God it’s so good I think I’m going to stroke out,” he added, sliding his hands up and around her until he was cupping her breasts, stroking them, rolling her nipples between his fingers. “What is it you’re supposed to smell right before you have a stroke? Toast?”

“Oh my god, oh my god, my pie!”

Sidney watched Mya jump off the bed and run out of the room with a certain amount of amusement mixed with an acute feeling of loss. Grudgingly he pushed himself up and looked down at his aching, engorged cock.

“Sorry buddy. Me and my big mouth,” he muttered, glancing down at his pants sitting in a heap on the floor before dismissing the thought of getting dressed again so soon and merely following the sound of her curses out into the kitchen.
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“Damn, damn fuckity damn,” Mya cursed as she pulled out the scorched pie. It was less a pie than a big block of cinders now and the casserole had bubbled over. Looking down at her ruined dinner, Mya felt tears welling in her eyes. Her perfect night…ruined.

“Don’t cry babes.” She felt his hands on her arms, his lips on curve of her neck as he peered over her shoulder at the ruined meal. “I wasn’t that hungry anyways.”

“Don’t lie,” she sniffed. “You’re always hungry after a game.”

“There must be…I don’t know, popcorn or chips or….”

“You don’t eat junk food!” Mya snapped, tugging herself free from his grasp and turning to toss the pie into the garbage. “I wasn’t even sure you were going to eat any of the pie but I wanted to do something nice for you for once. Not just have you come over for sex,” she added, snarling at him and turning to avoid his outstretched hand. She didn’t want to be coddled, she wanted to be angry.

“I don’t just come for sex and you know it,” he said quietly, walking past and through her defences, even when she tried to push him away. Somehow he still managed to gather her into his arms and press her close to his chest, cradling her head in the curve of his neck. “You know when I tell you I love you it’s not just because you let me in your bed.” She nodded, sniffing against his shoulder, but her hands were still clenched into fists against his ribs, refusing to hold him, to hug him. Not while she was still angry and disappointed. “And I don’t need you to cook me nice meals…I mean it’s nice if you do but I don’t need that either. We can always order in and when we have our own place….”

“Our own…what?” Mya looked up at him and found him smiling down at her.

“What do you think we’re doing here? I gave you a promise ring My. I love you. I want to spend some time getting to know you still but…I see us together long term. Don’t you?” he asked quietly, brushing a tear away that spilled down onto her cheek. Mya nodded, not trusting herself to speak. “Good, as long as we’re on the same page. Little shit like this…,” he glanced at the casserole and then back at her, “are just not important.” She nodded and sniffed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she felt the ache of another one of her headaches coming on.

“I just had all these plans for tonight. I wanted it to be special,” she sighed, leaning her forehead against his chest.

“It is, as long as we’re together,” he responded quietly, kissing the top of her head. His hand slid beneath her chin but Mya steadfastly refused to raise her eyes to meet his. “My…are you sure there isn’t something…else going on?”

“No, no, just…I get these headaches,” she mumbled, pulling back from him and rubbing at her temples which had begun to throb painfully.

“Headaches?” he asked, pulling her hands away from her head and peering at her with concern clearly marked on his face as he tried to search her gaze. “Have you been to the doctor about this?” Mya waved him away and turned to lean on the counter, closing her eyes tight.

“They're just headaches, everyone gets them,” she mumbled, gripping the edge of the countertop as hard as she could as she sucked in a ragged breath through her teeth and wondered if this night could possibly get any worse.

“I could get you in to see the team doctor if you wanted,” Sid offered quietly, placing his hands gently on her shoulders and leading her back towards the bedroom. Mya shook her head, though even that small a movement sent a sharp pain ricocheting behind her eyes.

“I’ll be fine…I just…sometimes if I eat something they go away,” she managed to mumble as she crawled onto the bed and rolled herself up in the quilt. She listened to the pad of Sidney’s feet down the hall and took a deep breath. It was probably stress, she told herself. New job, finishing her thesis, missing her parents, dating a big hockey star….

She managed to smile to herself for a moment and then decided against even that much flexing of her facial muscles and settled into her deep breathing exercises while she listened to Sidney clanging and crashing around in her kitchen.
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Headaches.

Sidney couldn’t help it. He wondered if that was how it had started with Randi. Had she had headaches? He couldn’t really remember. Towards the end, sure he remembered once or twice, but had it been the cancer or the medication?

He was jumping to conclusions. Getting ahead of himself. It was a headache. She was upset. He shouldn’t read anything into it. She’s made this dinner, baked a pie and it was ruined. She was just upset. It was a headache; that was all. It was perfectly natural. He got them. His mom got them all the time.

At least he hoped that was all it was.

So if that’s all it was, why did he suddenly have this ache deep in his gut?