Chapter 34

The air was crisp and cold but the sun had begun to peek through the clouds with the promise of a better afternoon. The ground was moist and damp and Sidney could feel the moisture seeping through his jeans as he knelt in the grass in front of the brass plaque now set deeply in the grass. He pulled at a few blades, tugging them clear of the edges, wishing he’d brought something to cut them back with. The grass having grown around the name plate was not only a reminder that the snow had only recently receded but that he hadn’t been here. Not for a long while.

Not that it seemed that long ago, Sidney realized as he ran his fingers lovingly over the smooth letters that made up her name. This time last year he and Randi had been making love at her apartment. She’d been getting better, or so he’d thought. The whole world had seemed to be coming to life and getting better every day.

Nothing like now, he thought grimly as he closed his eyes tightly against the tears that had begun to flow. Now everything was turning into one gigantic fucked up mess.

He’d rushed things with Mya. Of that he was now sure, now that he’d had some time to think, to get his bearings. It seemed that when it came to women rushing things was definitely a problem he suffered from.

Max had probably been right. He should have played the field. He should have dated and avoided getting serious except that wasn’t the tune that Max or any of the other guys on the team were singing now. Not since Max had started dating that girl from Blush, the sexy little Latina that seemed to be at all the games and all the practices these days, a fact that only made him miss Mya even more.

“What the fuck am I doing Randi?” he asked, pressing his hand flat against the grave marker while wiping at his eyes with the other. “I want her, I don’t want her...I don’t know what to do.”

That was the truth. When it came right down to it, he didn’t want to make the decision. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was before she’d gotten pregnant and things had got so squirrely and out of hand. Not that he didn’t feel strongly about her and not that he hadn’t imagined them being together, forever, but now that he’d had the time and space to look back on it, he just didn’t know what all the rush had been about.

He couldn’t blame her either. He knew that. She’d never once asked for him to propose. She’d never asked about moving in or babies or any of that and now that he’d gotten some perspective, it would have been better just to ask her to move in. Mya wasn’t the kind of girl who needed the flowers and the bridesmaids and the dress and the flashy ring. She would have been happy with just being with him; all of the rest of it...that was on him.

He’d been worried about how it would look. The good boy from a small town, the good Canadian kid having a child out of wedlock; it would have been in the papers here and back home. But it hadn’t just been about the child. He’d already had the ring. He hadn’t wanted to do to her what Flower was doing to Vero. They shared a house, a life, but they weren’t married and didn’t have any plans to get married and that had seemed fine, at first. But now, it had been years and it was just getting...weird.

He’d wanted to do the right thing by Mya. He didn’t want her to have any of the questions he knew the other WAGs constantly harassed Vero with: the ‘when is he going to propose?’ and the ‘when are you getting married?’ and the ‘when are we going to hear the pitter-patter of little feet?’ Plus there was just going to be all the media attention once the word got out. People would want to know who she was and he’d thought it would be so much easier for her if they were married.

Now, of course, none of that mattered because she was more than half a continent away and, at least according to Tish, had no plans to return to Pittsburgh. She was even going for job interviews Tish had told him in that way that he knew was meant to put him in his place and it had. It had put a knife right through his heart.

After all, if she was putting him behind her and she had every right to, he couldn’t blame her. Not after what he’d done, walking away from her when she needed him most.

“If she knew...if I could explain,” he whispered, tracing the letters on the brass plaque with his fingertips. “If she knew what seeing her in the bed did to my head...if she knew how helpless I felt...how I just can’t lose anyone else...,” his voice trailed off as the wind picked up and sent a crumpled piece of paper rolling over his hand. It was one of those booklets, those folded pieces of paper you get at a memorial service.

There was a picture of a young girl on the front, maybe thirteen, maybe older. Around Taylor’s age he thought as he turned flattened out the paper and turned it over and the lyrics on the back made his heart race.

So far away
I wish you were here
Before it's too late, this could all disappear
Before the doors close
And it comes to an end
With you by my side I will fight and defend
I'll fight and defend

Keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through
Just stay strong
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you
There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on

'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through

He knew the song, but had never really listened to the lyrics before. It was one of those songs on his iPod, one of those songs wasn’t really his taste, wasn’t really something he’d have chosen for himself. Maybe if he had listened a little more closely to it before....

“Okay Randi...okay. I get it. You don’t have to tell me, I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll try harder.”
________________________________________________________________


“Thanks for your time, I appreciate the opportunity,” Mya held her hand out towards the young man in the suit who took it in both of his, clasping her hand rather than shaking it.

“We’ll be in touch,” he promised with a genuine smile. “Can I walk you out?” he offered, maybe a little too solicitously. Mya shook her head, feeling her phone vibrate in her bag at her hip, and not for the first time during the interview. She was glad she’d remembered to put it on vibrate but couldn’t help but wonder if it was obvious and if this jumped up mid-level executive thought it was rude that she had it on at all.

“I think I can find my way out,” she smiled, withdrawing her hand carefully and successfully fought the urge to wipe it on her skirt. Turning she walked down the hallway, feeling his eyes on her back the entire way. She made herself turn as she put her hand on the handle of the door to the stairs and wave. This would be a good job, an amazing job, if low paying and if she was going to stay here, she was going to need a job like this to get back into the business because there were two things she was sure of right now.

One, she wasn’t going back to stripping and two, she wasn’t going to get any kind of reference from the station back in the ‘Burgh.

The young man in the cheap suit with the pathetic attempt at a moustache waved his fingers back at her, like she was five and grinned in that sort of way that said he was already imagining her naked. Mya wanted to wretch but kept the smile on her face long enough to get through the door before stopping and finally allowing a shudder to engulf her entire body. Was the job really worth being pawed like that, she wondered as she reached for the hand rail and began to head down the stairs. Was it really going to be any better than stripping? At least when she was stripping she was making three times what the Canucks were offering for the position of media relations officer.

“Well it’s that or go back to Pittsburgh,” she told herself firmly, putting one foot in front of the other which is what she felt like she’d been doing for weeks now, just putting one foot in front of the other, mindlessly, walking around in a daze.

The station didn’t even call anymore to see if she was coming back and Sidney...well, there hadn’t been a single word from him.

“Are you following me around?” Mya dragged her attention off of the toes of her black boots to look up into a pair of familiar blue eyes. She couldn’t help but smile as she shook her head.

“I think you’re following me around Shane,” she replied, adjusting the strap of her purse as her phone buzzed in her purse again.

“Nope, it’s got to be you. This is my house,” he replied with a confident and sassy grin that made it hard for Mya not to be affected by the warmth in his smile.

“I guess it is,” she shrugged as she looked down at him. He was a few stairs lower than her, wearing a dark blue t-shirt that only seemed to deepen the blue of his eyes. The thin cotton clung to the width of his chest and Mya caught herself imagining what the muscles of his chest would look like slicked with sweat and closed her eyes, trying to shake the image out of her head.

“Well you’ve found me now...Mya, that’s right isn’t it?” he asked, running his hand through his dark hair, making it stand up on end. “I hope you’re not going to run out on me this time,” he added with a wink that made her laugh.

“Does that work on all the girls?” she asked, unable to stop herself from comparing him to Max, the ‘ladies man’. They were both charming, in a disarming sort of way. But it was an obvious sort of charm. It didn’t have the same effect as the shy boy thing that both Sidney and Tanger had.

“Oh come on now, I’m not that much of a playa,” he grinned, taking two steps at a time until he was only a couple of stairs lower than her, which made him just a little taller than she was. “Besides, other girls aren’t as pretty as you,” he added, reaching out to tilt her chin up with one finger. Mya looked up into those sea blue eyes and wondered how easy it would be to let herself drown in them.

“And I bet you say that to all the girls too,” she added, forcing her gaze down and away from those deep blue eyes which only brought her gaze directly down to where his t-shirt was sticking to his broad, round shoulders.

“Do you always have such a hard time listening?” he asked, his whole hand now cupping her chin, gently forcing her to meet his gaze again. “I keep trying to tell you, I think you’re a hell of a lot prettier than anyone I’ve met in a while.” Mya felt her heart flutter in her chest as he leaned towards her, his gaze focussed on her mouth. He was intent on kissing her, but she had no intention of being kissed. Not now and if she had anything to say about it, not for a long time.

“I don’t date hockey players,” she whispered as she pressed her hand flat against his sternum and giving a solid push that didn’t even move him an inch. He let out a groan but when he met her gaze again, he was grinning.

“I like a challenge,” he smiled at her, his sapphire eyes dancing as he withdrew, just enough to hold his hand out to her. “Phone,” he said simply, his long, thick fingers waving in the air between them.

“Phone?” she asked, confused as she stood there, staring at his hand because it was better than looking into his eyes.

“Yes, your phone, so I can give you my digits. That is, assuming you’re not going to give me yours,” he added with a playful grin. Mya reached into her bag and drew out her phone, telling herself that if it shut him up it was worth it. She was never going to call him so it didn’t matter if she had his number in her phone or not. He took her phone and Mya couldn’t help but notice how small it looked in his hands as he added his number to her address book. Her hand shook as he handed it back to her, making certain that his fingers brushed hers as he placed it in her hand. “I don’t suppose it’s any use asking you to dinner?” he asked, looking hopeful. Mya shook her head and forced her feet to move, placing one foot in front of the other, walking down the stairs, making sure to give him a wide enough birth that their bodies didn’t so much as brush against one another’s.

“I don’t date hockey players,” she reiterated as she continued to walk carefully down the stairs, knowing with absolute certainty he was enjoying the view of the way her hip hugging pencil skirt tugged across her ass.

“We won’t call it a date,” he called after her, laughter ringing in his voice. “We’ll call it a prelude to the best night you’ve ever had.”

“Prelude huh?” she laughed, turning to look up at him as she rounded the corner to the next set of stairs. “I bet that’s a big word for you. Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“If you want to be impressed,” he laughed, deliberately lifting the hem of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, giving her a very good view of his six-pack and just a hint of the goody trail leading down into his shorts. “I’ve got lots of ways to do that babe, I can promise you that much,” he added with another wink that sent a shudder down her spine. Mya shook her head and turned, keeping eyes front and deciding it was best not to get sucked in to that entire discussion.

After all, she wasn’t going to date a hockey player. Not now. Not ever again.

_________________________________________________________________________

Sidney snapped his phone shut with a growl. She hadn’t picked up, not once. All he was getting was voice mail and it was beginning to piss him off.

“She could have her phone off,” Flower suggested quietly, which startled Sidney. He’d been pretty sure the young goaltender had been deep in sleep beside him on the bus. Flower often took a power nap on the bus ride to the arena when they were on the road. “Or maybe the battery is dead and she left her charger here,” he added, opening one eye to glance over at Sidney, probably to see if he needed to duck yet, which almost made Sidney smile. “Or maybe it’s down the back of a sofa,” he added before opening the other eye and raising a single eyebrow as he waited for Sidney’s response.

“I guess so,” Sidney growled and flicked his phone open again, staring down at his call display, willing his phone to ring, or at least for a text to appear.

“Also, what time is it there? Peut-être...je ne sais pas...peut-être elle dort?” Flower suggested quietly, closing his own eyes again and settled back into his seat.

“It’s the middle of the afternoon,” Sidney sighed, shutting his phone again and forcing himself to put it back in the pocket of his suit jacket. He could see the arena in the near distance. “She’s probably at one of those job interviews that Tish was talking about.”

“Ou elle pourrait ignorer vos appels,” Marc-Andre corrected him quietly, telling him what he already knew was the most likely reason his calls were ending up in voice mail, over and over again. He could see her doing it, pressing ignore, or worse, having blocked his number entirely and could he blame her? No, he thought to himself as he slid down in his seat. She had every right in the world to hate him now. He hated himself a little bit.

No. Scratch that. He hated himself a lot and it was showing out on the ice.

If she’d just call him back, if she’d only listen to him for five minutes, he thought hopefully, closing his own eyes and sending up a little prayer to the only gods he really believed in; the hockey gods. Just make her give me five minutes, that’s all. Five minutes and I swear, I’ll make her understand. I’ll make everything go back to the way it was and then I won’t feel so much like I’m skating through wet cement, he thought as he tried to make his tense muscles relax.

Maybe she’s over me, he thought resignedly, but I’m not over her. Not by a long shot.

____________________________________________________________________

“Mya, it’s me and....Look, I know I’ve been an ass. No, fuck that. I’ve been a complete asshole and you’re probably pissed at me and I get that. No. I fucking deserve that but...just come home and....And we’ll work things out. I promise I can explain everything and....Just come home. Please. I love you.”

Mya saved the message and then played it back again.

There they were. The words that she had wanted to hear but three weeks ago.
Screwing her eyes shut tight, she listened to the message for a third time and felt her teeth grinding together in frustration.

If only he’d said those words a day after, two days. Hell even a week after she probably would have been on the first flight out, even if it hadn’t been a direct flight. She’d have taken any flight that would have got her within driving distance of him.

But now? Mya snapped her phone shut and dropped it onto the kitchen table and put her head in her hands. Now she’d all but accepted the job with the Canucks. She was supposed to go back in the morning to look over and sign the contract. She’d even gone to look at a small studio apartment downtown near the rink...and now this.

“Go. Whoever he is...if he wants you, just go.” Mya raised her head and stared at her father’s too young girlfriend. “You’ve been sitting around here, staring at the walls for weeks. Whoever he is, you obviously want him. So go back to him.”

“Gee Bridgette. Want me out of the way much?” Mya grumbled, narrowing her eyes at the result of her father’s cradle robbing antics.

“What I want doesn’t matter. What’s good for you...that would make your father happy and what makes your father happy....”

“Ugh...spare me the details,” Mya moaned, closing her eyes again and trying very hard not to think of what her happy daddy would do to perky Bridgette once she was out of the house. The very thought that they may or may not have been doing anything sexual while she was in the house made her feel dizzy and sick to her stomach.

“You don’t know anything about my life,” Mya snapped and it was true. She hadn’t told her father why she had run back home; not exactly.

“Do you think I don’t recognize a broken heart when I see one?” Bridgette sighed dramatically and rolled her baby blues at Mya in a way that said she clearly thought she was speaking to either a child or someone with inferior intellect and that...well that made Mya furious...and made her laugh at the same time.

“Like I said, you don’t know anything about me or my life so...why don’t you do me a favour and go back to chewing your gum or whatever it is you do around here,” Mya snarled and pushed her chair back, scraping it across the floor until it fell over backward and left them both staring at it.

“You’re right. I don’t really care about you or how you feel, but I do care about your father and he’s worried about you so I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it so that he doesn’t worry anymore. Get it?” Mya stared at her father’s teenage girlfriend and wanted to say something sarcastic and nasty, but nothing came to her. Instead, she stared at the beautiful blonde and felt her carefully built protective wall begin to crack. “So, this guy. Do you love him?” Mya stared and refused to answer. “Alright, don’t answer me. You’re right, it doesn’t matter what I think and you don’t have to tell me anything but if you love him, then you should go back to him.”

Bridgette shrugged and turned and walked away and Mya watched as she went with that question hanging in the air – did she still love him and should she go back to Pittsburgh?

Chapter 33

Wow, there was definitely a lot of reaction to the last chapter and I just want to say thank you for your thoughts and passion and encouragement!

Mya curled her fingers around the steaming mug of strong, black coffee and tried not to listen to the woman across the table from her chewing loudly on her Cheerio’s.

They weren’t the normal, plain kind either, nor were they the good for you kind with the honey and nuts. They were the sugary, colourful fruit kind. Something about that struck her as pathetic and only served to underline how young her father’s girlfriend was.

Not that he was here to see his girlfriend chasing her cereal around one of his Italian ceramic Insalata bowls. He had long since driven off, heading for campus, which made Mya wonder if his girlfriend should be at class or not. Not that she planned to ask. If she could help it, she didn’t plan to even talk to the woman, although that was beginning to prove difficult.

She’d run home to lick her wounds, looking for sympathy and the arms of her mother. It hadn’t been a very well thought through plan.

Her mother had gathered her in her arms and made soothing noises while she cried, but the minute that Mya had got up to go to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face her mother had forgotten why she was there or who she was.

For his part, her father had done his best to make sympathetic gestures and had even patted her back as he sat on the edge of her old single bed. It hadn’t lasted long though, and soon he’d retired to his study, behind closed and locked doors and there the sympathy and parental care had ended. He’d been far more concerned with idea of being old enough to be a grandfather than he had with his daughter’s physical or emotional well being.

Still, home, such as it was, was better than Pittsburgh.

Tish had insisted on taking her in, but Mya had only lasted a single night in their guest room. Waking up in the middle of the night to the cries of the twins had been more than she could take. Despite Tish’s arguments against it, the very next morning, Mya had climbed on a plane and headed for the coast.

Time and space, she hoped, would heal the gaping, bleeding wound in her heart.

Except it still ached, she knew, reaching down to place her hand against her stomach. Her baby was gone. She hadn’t really had time to get used to the idea, to really feel what it felt like to be pregnant, but what she did feel now was empty. Like something was missing.

Of course it wasn’t just that quickening of life inside of her that was gone.
The engagement ring Sidney had given her was on the bedside table at Tish and Jordy’s, if Tish hadn’t found it yet. If she had, Mya wondered to herself, had she given it back to Sidney or had she put it in the safe in their bedroom?

She hoped that Tish, or maybe even Jordan, had returned it to Sidney. It would save her from having to do it herself, she thought with a sigh as she tipped the cup of dark, rich coffee to her lips.

Closing her eyes she savoured slightly nutty, almost burnt taste of the Arabica beans. At least she could count on one thing. Coffee was almost always good. It almost always made her feel better. She’d missed it when she’d given it up as soon as she’d found out about the baby....

No, she admonished herself for the hundredth time. She couldn’t think about the baby. No, not the baby, she told herself firmly, the pregnancy. It was better to think of it as an ‘it’, not a person, and it was better not to think of it at all, because every time she did, she would think of Sidney, and she wasn’t sure which hurt worse.

As the hot, dark liquid slid down her throat, Mya took stock of her insides. The dull ache in her chest, she told herself, was not a broken heart. It was just sore muscles from crying. It would go away in a day or two. The emptiness in her stomach wasn’t a missing baby, it was hunger. She tried to remember when the last time she’d had something to eat was. Three days, maybe four?

That was one of the worst things about the miscarriage she thought darkly, one of the most unfair. Her breasts still hurt. Her hormones were still out of control and she still couldn’t stand the smell of things she’d liked before, like bacon, like fresh baked bread.

No, she corrected herself with a wry smile. Not the worst, just inconvenient. The worst...well she couldn’t decide what the worst was. Not yet, although she had to admit that it would have been nice if he’d at least call to see if she was okay.

The fact that he’d just walked out on her on what seemed now like the worst day of her life...well it was pretty fucking unbelievable and Mya was having a hard time trying to forgive him for it and she’d tried. She really had.

She’d also tried to think of a single reason that would explain how the normally sweet and thoughtful young man she believed she loved could do something so cold, but no matter how hard she tried, the only reasons she could think of seemed either truly farfetched, or worse, truly un-fucking-forgivable.

Had he just got cold feet? Was he cheating? Had he seen a nurse that looked better to him? As hard as she tried, Mya couldn’t make herself believe any of the fanciful daydreams she came up with to explain his behaviour.

There was, however, one idea that she could believe, though she tried not to.

If he’d lied when he said he didn’t need the pregnancy to want to marry her that meant he didn’t really love her. It meant he only wanted to legitimize his child, his progeny. She tried not to, but if it was true, and Sidney was that calculating, then maybe everything else had been a lie and that...well that made the ach in her chest turn into a sharp pain. Like maybe her heart wasn’t just broken. Maybe it was just gone.

Because she knew if he could do that, she hadn’t really known him at all. And if she could love someone like that...well, then she never wanted to fall in love again...ever.

_____________________________________________________________________

“You are an incredible ass, you know that?”

Sidney snorted and shook his head, but didn’t look up from tying his skates.

“And here I thought you’d be over the moon that I was single again. I thought you’d bring me a fucking bottle of JD and say ‘hey, single buddy, let’s go cruising’,” Sidney sighed, switching to his other skate before looking up at Max who was still standing over him, or rather looming over him, with a thunderous look on his face, which didn’t at all go along with the usually perky, happy go lucky if somewhat moody personality the forward usually had.

“No, I think you’re a fucking moron. A lunatic. Merde Sainte Sid. What were you thinking letting that girl go?” Sidney narrowed his eyes at his friend and waited for that twitch at the corner of his mouth that would signal that Max was about to laugh because this had to be a joke. Max was a consummate bachelor. No he was the consummate bachelor and he firmly believed that everyone else should follow his lead; be single, carefree and fuck everything that moves.

Sidney waited, and waited but Max didn’t crack so much of as the hint of a smile. In fact he continued to stand there, looming, looking disapprovingly down at where Sidney was sitting half in and half out of his gear.

“Okay, what gives?” Sidney asked finally, reaching for a roll of hockey tape, something, anything to keep his hands busy, which had pretty much been his state of mind for about a week. Don’t think, that was his new motto. Practice, work out, drink a bottle of JD, sleep and don’t dream. Just don’t think. Thinking was dangerous and, he’d decided, frankly overrated. “You were pissed at me for getting engaged. I’m not engaged anymore. I thought you’d be throwing me a fucking party.”

“I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll pay for whatever expensive weekend or trip to Paris or what the fuck ever you need to do to get the poor girl back. That’s what I’ll fucking do,” Max snarled and Sidney stopped winding the tape around the blade of his stick and stared at his teammate as if he’d never seen him before, which is exactly what it felt like. This didn’t sound like Max. This wasn’t Superstar.

“I don’t get it Max. What’s this really about? What? You think I’m not playing well or something? Is that it? Are you going to give me that speech again about how I need to get laid and how I can’t play with blue balls? Is that it? Because if that’s where you’re going with this, just save it ‘cuz I’m pretty sure that’s how I got into this fucking shit storm in the first place.” Sidney went back to taping his stick, because he needed to focus on something else, something beside the pair of dark eyes that were glaring at him, questioning him. He’d done enough of that himself. He’d had the twenty questions from Mario and the ‘I told you so’ bullshit from his father, not to mention the ‘how could you’ speed from Tish and Jordan.
Getting it from Max...well that was just bullshit, plain and simple. Max didn’t care about his personal life, not unless it involved some kind of alcohol fuelled toga party.

“You’re right you don’t get it,” Max sighed, shaking his head and letting out one of those long, slow sighs. It reminded Sid suddenly of his mother, the sound that she made when Sid had broken a window with a puck, or when he hadn’t done his homework because he’d been out playing street hockey after dark. That disappointed but not surprised sound.

“Whatever Max.” Sid bit back the ‘fuck you’ and the ‘go fuck yourself’ that he wanted to add. Fighting with his teammates would only add to his misery, and if it was one thing he didn’t need, it was more of that.

“Yeah, that’s right. Whatever. Sweep it under the rug, huh Sidney? Break your word, break her heart, you know, whatever. A little piece of your soul dies, you know, whatever. Yeah...that’s good. Okay, you do that Sid. You do that and see how good you feel huh?” Max finally grinned as he placed a hand on each of Sidney’s shoulders and stared him straight in the face. “Take it from me Super Boy,” he added, pitching his voice lower so that it sounded threatening but firm, so that Sidney had to listen. “Being all alone when you’re ninety because you’re too chicken to get through the rough times...it’s going to suck, non?”

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Dealing with Grief

Trying Again: A Guide to Pregnancy after Miscarriage

Empty Arms: Hope & Support for Those Who Have Suffered a Miscarriage

Holding on to Faith: Hope after Miscarriage

Piece of My Heart: Living Through the Grief of Miscarriage

Mya ran her fingers down the spines of the books in front of her and felt her eyes well up. She could hardly think about it. She couldn’t imagine reading about it, and yet...she had no one to talk to.

Well that wasn’t strictly true. She talked to her mother. She had talked to her mother just this morning. They’d had tea.

The problem was her mother seemed to think that she was the neighbour across the street they’d had when she was about four. She kept calling her Irene.

Her father, in his infinite wisdom had suggested she join some kind of support group. His exact words had been something to the effect of ‘isn’t there some group...MA or something you could go to?’

MA. Miscarriages Anonymous. The thought made her smile as she turned her back on the section and headed over toward the fantasy and science fiction section. A good, lush fantasy world might do the trick, she hoped, as she waded into the section with all the big thick tomes by the likes of Tolkein, Tepper, Armstrong, Hamilton, and de Lint. She ran her fingers down their titles and felt a sort of peace steal into her heart.

Lord of the Rings

A Plague of Angels

A Lick of Frost

Bitten

The Mystery of Grace

She pulled out one of the books and opened it, grinning at the creaking sound it made. She loved being the first to open a hardcover. She was already imagining herself curled up with a box of chocolates, under a throw, reading....

“Is that a good one? Do you know?” Mya looked up to find herself looking into a pair of impossibly blue eyes. They weren’t ice blue, or robin’s egg blue. They were sky blue, very, very blue. “It’s just...I like to get something to read on the plane. I mean...I’m starting to. I mean...I didn’t used to. I used to sort of just listen to music and whatever and play cards with the boys but I’m not really good at cards and...I’m sorry. I’m pretty much rambling here. My name’s Shane,” he said, sticking his hand out towards her. “I have this habit of rambling when I meet a pretty girl.” Mya knew she was grinning but couldn’t help it. He was...adorable; like a big, dumb teddy bear, but...adorable.

“Mya. Don’t I...do I know you?” she asked, tilting her head to one side as she looked up into those sky blue eyes, framed by long dark lashes and a spattering of freckles across a nose that look like it had taken its’ fair share of right hooks in its time.

“I don’t think so. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’d remember someone as pretty as you,” he grinned, showing a chipped tooth in an otherwise broad, generous smile. Mya felt her cheeks heat and ducked her head, hiding behind her hair.

“This is a good one,” she suggested, turning to reach for a book behind her. “It’s Vikings and raids and all that. You look like you could appreciate a good fight,” she added, turning to hand it to him to find him leaning in to sniff at her hair.

“You smell good,” he grinned, “I can appreciate that.” He was flirting with her, outrageously and he wasn’t even making an attempt to be subtle. It made her skin tingle and she couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot.

“You...um, you should read that on the plane,” she mumbled, realizing that her hand was shaking as his long fingers brushed hers when he took the book from her.

“Thanks for this. I will. The guys will think I’m trying to get smart or sumthin’,” he added as he slipped the big book open and glanced at how many pages it had in it. “So uh...you want to get some coffee or something?” he offered, looking hopeful as he stood there, looking down at her with those big, big blue eyes.

She should say no. Two weeks ago she’d been set to marry Sidney, was going to have his baby... Of course all of that was over now. Sidney hadn’t even called her. Not so much a text, an email, nothing. So if it was over....

“Coffee sounds good. I like coffee,” she said quietly and watched the big man’s grin grow impossibly wide as he bobbed his head, sending part of the dark thatch of hair on his head forward. She watched as he brushed it aside before offering to take the book she was holding out of her hand.

“Let me get that for you,” he said, his hand brushing hers’ as he tried to take it.

“That’s okay,” she replied, holding fast to the book and looking back at him quizzically. Buying her a coffee was one thing. A thirty dollar book....

“Hey, I’m a professional hockey player. It’s no problem,” he grinned, taking the book and stacking it on top of his before offering her his arm.

“Professional...what?” she asked, her heart sinking.

“I play for the Canucks. C’mon. You don’t watch hockey? I thought everyone in this city watched hockey.”

“I...I watch hockey. I just...I just....” She wanted to run. She wanted a hole in the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She wanted a portal to another dimension to open and drag her through the rabbit’s hole. “I just remembered I have to be somewhere. It was nice to meet you Shane,” she mumbled, turning on her heel and practically running for the door, leaving the big defenseman standing there with the books in his hand staring after her.
_____________________________________________________________


“Do you even remember what you went through to get her?” Jordan asked as they sat in the hotel room, in the semi dark. Sidney hadn’t been able to sleep and Jordan couldn’t sleep unless Sidney did. Normally Sidney roomed with Fleur but the young goalie kept giving him that look lately, the same disappointed ‘I can’t believe you’ look that Mario and Nathalie kept giving him. He couldn’t stand it.

Jordan’s wife didn’t approve either. But she wasn’t on the road trip and Jordan was pussy whipped, there was no doubt about that, but when they were on the road, she loaned him his balls.

“Sure,” Sidney replied at long last. “But...I don’t know. I think I just realized it was all happening too fast. I think maybe we need a break,” he added, which is what he had convinced himself was happening. They were on a break, taking some time apart to get their bearings. At least that’s what he was doing. All he knew was that Mya had gone running home to Vancouver, jacked in her job and school and went home to her mommy and the only reason he knew that was because Gronk had told him so. Tish had told him not to but more often than not, Jordan couldn’t keep a secret.

“Yeah well, you know what happened to Ross and Rachel when they were ‘on a break’,” Jordan replied, lacing his fingers behind his head and staring at the ceiling.

“What are trying to say Gronk? Do you think I’d cheat on My?” Sidney asked, still wondering to himself why Max hadn’t tried to drag him down to the club earlier when he and Duper and TK had gone girl hunting.

“I’m saying she’s a beautiful girl and she’s pretty pissed at you so...I’m saying she’s probably going to move on if you don’t get your head out of your ass pretty quick,” Jordan sighed, closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh.

“She’s not like that,” Sidney heard himself reply defensively. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“She returned the ring, didn’t she?” Jordan asked passively. “Put yourself in her shoes man. If you think you’re grieving, imagine how she’s feeling and you’re not there to lend her a shoulder to cry on and I’m sure there’s plenty of guys who’d be willing to....”

“She’s not like that,” Sidney growled, grabbing his pillow and turning his back on Jordan, screwing his eyes shut. “She wouldn’t...fuck it’s only been a couple weeks. I was going to call her...I just...I just needed some space.”

“I’m just saying,” Jordan yawned. “If you were in her shoes and some big hunk came along to make her feel better...you know...if I was single and in Vancouver and....”

“And shut up Jordan okay? Mya’s not like that. She’s not just going to jump into bed with some guy. I’m sure she’s still...working stuff out for herself. I’ll call her tomorrow...or in a day or two,” Sidney mumbled, punching his pillow and trying not to see the vision suddenly creeping into his head of Mya in some other man’s arms.

“Your funeral man. Whatever you think. You know her better than me,” Jordan added sleepily and Sidney thought that that sounded about right. He did know her better. She wasn’t like that. She was probably laying in the dark thinking about him just like he was thinking about her. No one was cheating on anyone. She wouldn’t even think about it. She was probably still working things out for herself. She didn’t have time to look for other men just like he wasn’t looking for anyone else.

Sidney took a deep breath and told himself to relax. He had to stop listening to other people. He’d freaked out, reacted badly. The whole hospital thing had really fucked with his head, brought back memories of Randi and messed with his mind. He hadn’t been thinking straight and it had taken him some time to figure out just exactly what had happened. But now that he did have it straight in his head, he was going to wait until this road trip was done and then he was going to call her, when he had more time and there weren’t a lot of people around to listen in. She would understand that.

Mya was a smart girl. She’d probably already figured out what had taken him so long to come to terms with. She was probably waiting for him to come to her and he would.
In a few days.

In the mean time, he needed some sleep and he needed to stop thinking about her and definitely about her and some other guy, because that would never happen, not in a million years.

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....”
___________________________________________________________

“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.
__________________________________________________

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.
____________________________________________________________

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.
______________________________________________________________

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.
____________________________________________________________

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.
______________________________________________________

“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.
______________________________________________________

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?

Chapter 19

“Would you like to watch it again?” Erik Heasley, one of the media and communications staff asked, using that ‘you’re about to get sent to your room young man’ voice that made Sidney shift uncomfortably in the high backed leather chair across the boardroom table from where Shero and Mario sat, staring at him with frank disbelief.

“I don’t need to see it. I was there,” Sidney replied quietly but firmly, turning to face Mario across the table, meeting the older man’s icy and disappointed gaze.

“I’d expect something like this from Jordan or Max but you...,” Mario shook his head and turned his attention back to the monitor where the distorted video was paused at the point where Mya had climbed from the stage onto his lap. Sidney’s pulse sped, just a little, as his gaze roamed over her curvaceous backside and up the long straight line of her spine. He hadn’t been happy to be there but there was no denying how amazing she looked.

“I’m a guy. Aa young guy. It’s a strip club. No one’s doing anything illegal. I’m not even drinking,” Sidney pointed out softly, tearing his attention away from the video and back to the two older men sitting opposite him in their power suits. Sure he’d had a couple but there was no evidence of that in the video and it seemed to ease at least Mr. Shero who nodded and smiled back at him.

“And maybe if it had been Max or Jordy, this wouldn’t have made TMZ or any of the other internet sites legal has had to contact today,” Mario added impatiently, his blue eyes clearly showing the disappointment he was feeling towards his young protégé. Suddenly the edge of the table became very interesting to Sidney as he began to pick at a worn spot in the wood. “You know better. You know that you’re held to a higher standard,” Mario continued, running the video back and starting it again. This time, when Sidney managed to look up at it, he tried not to just focus on Mya, on those boots that he’d made her bring home, but on the way other people would see it but still....

“I’m just sitting there. I think it’s pretty obvious that it wasn’t my idea,” Sidney pointed out, still trying to steer the topic well away from who was in the video. He’d known as soon as Mario had called him out of practice and up to his office that he’d have to tell him, eventually. He just really didn’t want to get into it in front of half the communications staff.

“That isn’t the point Sid and I think you know that,” Mario sighed, shutting the video off at long last, for which Sidney was grateful. Seeing Mya like that made it really difficult to concentrate.

“It’s the image that we and your parents and the league have been very careful to cultivate and protect,” Erik said, taking a seat at the head of the table, tapping his pen against a copy of the letter that was sitting in front of Sidney, awaiting his signature. The one he was refusing to sign. “Your image is squeaky clean, and for the sake of your sponsors and the franchise, we’d like to keep it that way. This is one little bump, and believe me, it’s not entirely unexpected. As you say, you’re a young man and while I think we all recognize that generally speaking you definitely make our lives easy around here, we also all knew that this type of thing would come up eventually.”

“And it’s not just your sponsors. It’s those kids that look up to you, that idolize you. Don’t you think you owe their mothers an explanation? After all, they’re the ones that are going to decide if their little Johnny is going to wear your jersey or not,” Mario added bluntly, staring daggers at Sidney who was now back to squirming in his chair.

They were both making valid points, fair points, points that he couldn’t argue with. That didn’t mean that he didn’t want to argue with them, or that he agreed, and it certainly didn’t mean he was going to sign the letter they’d drafted for him to sign.

“There must be some other way you can say this that doesn’t make it sound quite so...condescending,” Sidney replied, pushing the letter away once more and looking over at Erik optimistically.

“Are you planning on going back there sometime soon or something?” Mario snapped, pushing his chair back so that he could go back to pacing, which is what he’d been doing when Sidney had finished his shower and arrived in his office. Generally speaking it wasn’t always a bad thing when he was called to Mario’s office. Often it was only to meet with some sponsor or a charity. It wasn’t that Mario had never brought him into his office to have a heart to heart but there had never been anything like this, at least not since he’d used Brett McLean’s face for a speed bag or that unfortunate incident with Valabik. Maybe the fact that he rarely had to face an unhappy Mario was what made this even more difficult.

“I’m just not happy saying that,” Sidney reiterated as he turned the letter towards Erik and pushed the paper further away from him. “That’s a job to those women. I’m not going to criticize them that way.” The letter said that he didn’t condone either the men who went to those types of establishments or the women that work in them. As soon as he’d read it, he could hear the argument he’d end up having with Mya, if she didn’t just refuse to ever speak with him again instead. Not that he’d blame her, which is why he wasn’t going to sign the letter the way it was written. “And who else is signing this, because I wasn’t the only one there.”

“You’re the only one we’re worried about here,” Shero said, finally speaking up. Sidney turned his attention to the GM and was relieved to see that he, at least, didn’t look like he was enjoying castigating that Sidney was taking. “I think Max can live without his car commercial...if they even care. I know you might not think this is fair, but I think you have to agree that it’s necessary.”

Sid didn’t, in fact, agree that it was necessary. He was actually willing to bet that just about every other professional male athlete had probably been to the rippers more than once without having to give a formal apology. In fact, the entire Steelers team had celebrated their Super Bowl win at Blush and he’d been invited. Plenty of his teammates had been there. He’d heard all about it and no one had said anything then. Of course he hadn’t seen any video of that particular celebration, although he’d heard it had gotten pretty out of hand.

Damn camera phones.

“I’m just not comfortable with that wording,” Sidney repeated, turning his attention back to Erik. “There has to be some other way to say this. I mean, can’t we just leave the part out about the dancers? Can’t I just say that I didn’t use very good judgement in my choice of establishments and that I’m sorry if I offended anyone?”
“If we thought we could get away with that, we would have just put that,” Mario grumbled, leaning over the table to turn the letter around and push it towards Sidney. “Just sign it.”

Sidney stared down at the document, the stark black and white letters swimming before his eyes. His chest felt tight. He felt hot. He could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck. He hated to disappoint anyone, least of all Mario. The only way this could be worse was if Troy, his father, were here. Of course it was only a matter of time before Troy did get involved, Sidney knew, especially if he continued to refuse to sign the letter. It was probably only because Mario hadn’t expected such resistance that his father wasn’t standing across the table from him now with a face like thunder.

He felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest, like the fluttering wings of a frightened bird. He felt cornered and he hated it. It wasn’t fair. He hadn’t done anything wrong and he hadn’t even wanted to be there and most of all, he didn’t want to upset Mya.

“Sign it Sidney,” Mario growled, holding a pen out towards him like a knife, his blue eyes flashing like bolts of lightning.

Maybe he could call Mya and explain before the media got a hold of it.

“The reporters are getting restless,” a voice piped up behind him and Sidney turned, wide eyed to see the apologetic but still perky face of Jennifer, the media relations officer.

“Reporters?” he squeaked, his throat closing, his mouth going dry.

“You didn’t think it would just take a little letter did you?” Mario sighed, slumping into a chair and dropping his head into his hands, rubbing at his temples as he stared across the table. “Now sign it and go out there and read it and hope that they don’t ask too many questions.”

___________________________________________________________________

“Go where?” Mya turned to go back into her apartment, followed by the still very, very pregnant wife of Sidney’s teammate.

“Shopping. These two are going to shoot out of me any minute now and I still have things I need,” Tish said, making her way to the couch and lowering herself gently onto it. “I know, I know. You’d think, with Jordan’s cash this wouldn’t be hard. Get on the internet, order some shit, but there are still things you have to go get. I mean, for instance, bottles you can get but bottle liners? No, you can’t just order those, or at least nowhere I’ve found. And then I can’t decide between cloth and pampers. I mean, pampers if I’m changing them obviously,” Tish moaned, holding up her perfect French tips by way of explanation, “but I just know that Linda’s going to get here and she’s going to look down her nose at me for using them.”

Mya couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the down to earth defenseman’s parents being anything but completely sweet and helpful. If anyone was going to create a scene, it would likely be the obviously opinionated Tish, but she kept that thought to herself.

“Are you going to be okay to shop?” she called as she went into her small bedroom and tugged off her sweat pants.

“I’m comfortable sitting right now,” Tish called back, “but I won’t be for long. I can’t seem to get comfortable anymore, so I might as well spend money.” Mya grinned and shook her head. Tish obviously wasn’t one to mince words.

“You could just give me a list. I could go for you,” she offered, pulling on a pair of well worn jeans before diving into her closet to look for something half assed fashionable to wear on top. Tish might be eight and a half months pregnant but she looked like she could be walking on a catwalk in Paris, right down to her cute little kitten heels, which Mya was sure she probably wasn’t happy about. Of the few times she’d met Tish, she couldn’t remember ever seeing her in any heel below three inches.

“What fun would that be?” Tish called back. “Besides, once these skwaking pooping machines arrive, I probably won’t be allowed out of the house for a while. This might be my last chance to do anything fun.” That was a thought Mya couldn’t agree with. The pitter patter of little feet was something she looked forward to, even if it wasn’t something she was planning on now. She didn’t know too much about Jordan, but what she’d seen of him, she thought he’d be a great dad. Sidney would be, she thought to herself with a secretive sort of smile. Not that she should be thinking anything like that, she told herself. Although it was hard not too, and, she supposed, that was all part of the raw newness of the relationship, if that’s even what it was.

Deciding that she just couldn’t keep up with the fashionista in her living room, Mya settled on a black t-shirt she’d gotten at a Rasmus concert and headed out to the living room, dragging her leather jacket behind her. She tried to ignore Tish’s raised eyebrow and thankfully the mother-to-be kept her thoughts on Mya’s fashion sense to herself.

“Ready to go, mom?” Mya asked, taking Tish’s keys from her as she held her other hand out to pull the heavily pregnant woman to her feet.

“I’m always ready to spend my hubby’s money.”

_________________________________________________________________________

“I’m sorry buddy,” Max apologized, sliding his arm around Sidney’s shoulders as they slunk out of the arena. Sidney shrugged his friend’s arm off his shoulder but didn’t tell him to stick his apology where the sun doesn’t shine, although he did think about doing just that.

“We’re all sorry,” Jordan added, appearing from nowhere, along with Dupuis, Flower, and a few of the other guys who had been there the night before.

“Yeah, I wish I knew who’d taken that video. I’d have fucking fed him his phone, anally,” Talbot added, with a grin. Sidney wished he could make light of what had happened, but he was still reeling from Mario’s disappointment and having to make a public apology. It was embarrassing, humiliating and completely unfair. All of the men that were now standing around him had been there, had been whooping it up and having a good old time. He hadn’t even wanted to be there. He’d begged them not to go and somehow he was the only one that had ended up paying for their boy’s night out.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s over now,” Sid said quietly, shrugging as he looked up at Jordan, wondering if any of them could even come close to understanding what he’d just been through. Yes, he understood that people expected more from him, but it seemed unreasonable that he should be singled out when he was really the least guilty of them all. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow morning,” he added, digging his keys out of his pocket and moving towards the car park, wanting very much to just be alone.

“We all are really sorry,” Fleur whispered, falling into step beside Sidney as the guys started to disperse. Sidney just shrugged again. What more could he say. Maybe they were sorry, but he hadn’t seen any of them stepping up to the microphones to back him up in front of the cameras. “If it makes you feel better, Vero was vraiment pissé au loin. She hates when I go there.”

“So why do you?” Sidney asked, turning to his friend who took a step back and held his hands up defensively. “Why do you go there? You have a beautiful girlfriend, why do you go there to look at other women? I don’t get it. Explain it to me. Because, if you recall, I didn’t even want to be there and I sure as hell didn’t want to see Mya do that. I don’t want her doing that...in front of anyone, never mind you guys. So tell me, ‘cuz I’m fucking curious. Why?” Flower stood there staring at him, open mouthed and obviously shocked to have Sid go off on him like this. Of course Flower was almost never the aim of Sidney’s vehemence, but that didn’t mean the pale, outwardly frail youth was going to turn tail and run either.

“Vraiment, je ne sais pas. It’s just some beers with the guys, you know?” Fleur replied, raising his eyebrows hopefully towards his friend. “It’s not really about les filles. C’est une vue gentile, mais oui, but...it’s not about them...for me anyway.”

Sidney nodded. It was all he could do. Fleur was probably telling the truth. Even as beautiful as Vero was, it wasn’t about that for Fleur. She made him feel comfortable, like he had a part of home with him as long as he had her around. Not that he doubted that the goaltender loved his girlfriend, but he just didn’t see her as an object. Not even after the boob job and the nose job....

Marc-Andre patted his shoulder and turned to head towards his own car. Sidney stood in the middle of the parking lot and pulled out his cell. There was still no reply to either the text or the voice mail he’d left for Mya. The last thing he needed was for her to see the press conference with out his being able to explain what was going on and how he hadn’t wanted to say those things and he could only hope that the last minute change he’d made in front of the cameras would at least go some way to making his words sting a little less. The only thing he could do now was head to her apartment and hope she was still too busy trying to put together her article from the interview she was supposed to have after the Steeler’s game this evening.
They were supposed to go together anyway. He didn’t think she’d mind if he showed up early. Maybe they could swing by his place on the way so he could change. He didn’t even care if he went like he was now, as long as he talked to her first.

Stuffing his cell back in the pocket of his coat he climbed into the Land Rover and prayed that she didn’t listen to Sports Radio as part of her prep work.

____________________________________________________________

“Do they have baby stuff in the electronics department?” Mya asked as she pushed the overfull buggy behind Tish as she headed through the furniture section, past the washers, dryers and fridges and into sea of plasma and LCD screens.

“If I am going to be stuck at home for the foreseeable future, we need a new TV,” Tish stated, matter-of-factly as she paused by a particularly large projection model that had a price card on it that made Mya’s eyes go round. As far as she was concerned the price on that TV was a very sizeable down payment on a really nice house.

“I can’t believe Jordan wouldn’t have a huge TV,” Mya suggested, but Tish only waved her hand at her as if to say ‘what do you know’.

“In the games room for playing games on, yeah. In the living room? It’s only a forty-two,” Tish replied as if that were too small for anyone. Mya thought about her nineteen inch back home and rolled her eyes. It really was too small to watch football or hockey on. It made all the players look like ants, but she was hardly home to watch most of the games. Half of the time she was at Blush, and they had huge plasma screens.... “Hey, there’s Sidney,” she grinned, abandoning the cart in the aisle and moving closer to the screen to gaze on her boyfriend’s face.

He was clean shaven, but with one of those horrible grey knit caps of his pulled down to his eyebrows, covering the thick dark hair she loved to dig her fingers into when they kissed. He was wearing jeans and a dark sweatshirt, and he wasn’t looking very happy at all.

“I wonder if he got injured in practice or something,” Tish speculated out loud as she joined Mya in front of the big screen, glancing around for something that would turn the audio up. Mya dug into her jacket pocket for her phone and glanced down at it. He had phoned her earlier but they’d been at a cash register and she’d had her hands full and hadn’t been able to answer it. Her phone was flashing, telling her she had voice mail and several text messages.

Glacing back up at the screen, Mya saw a fuzzy image of Sidney looking up at something, looking very unhappy while Jordan and Max held him down. Her breath caught in her throat and unconsciously she reached out and felt Tish’s hand grip hers’. The camera panned and Mya found herself watching her own image flash up on the screen, suggestively sucking on the fake pistol, her other arm only just covering some of her breasts.

“Oh shit,” Mya hissed, glancing around to see all of the screens full of the same image, and other shoppers stopping to stare, as if it was O.J. in the white bronco. “Oh shit,” she repeated, squeezing Tish’s hand.

“I don’t condone the sort of behaviour I took part in,” Sidney was saying as his image reappeared on the screen and the sales clerk appeared near them with a remote in his hand, realizing that he had an audience and probably hoping for a sale from it. “I don’t condone my actions, and I am not a regular patron of this type of establishment. I do not condone those that do support this type of establishment and I definitely cannot condone the objectification of the women who work in them. It isn’t a profession I can respect.”

“He said fucking what?” Mya hissed, staring at the screen with her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide and her heart beating wildly in her chest. “He said...he so did not just say....” She turned to Tish and searched her gaze. “Is this why you brought me out? He didn’t want me to see this so you brought me out?” Tish was still staring at the screens around them, upon which that nebulously blurred video clip was playing again. Mya pulled on Tish’s arm, forcing her to face Mya as she stared at her. “Did you? Well did you?” Tish slowly shook her head, her own eyes wide as she stared back at Mya.

“I think my water just broke.”

Chapter 18

“Mon fichu dieu! Merde sainte!”

Sidney didn’t even turn around when he heard Max behind him. He knew exactly what the hirsute francophone was looking at, and, with a smile he could barely contain, he flexed his shoulder muscles to exaggerate the vivid claw marks on his back.

“Were you attacked by a puma mon ami?” Max asked breathlessly, obviously impressed as he surveyed Mya’s handiwork on Sidney’s back. A puma? Sidney thought, amused. That sounded about right. She definitely wasn’t old enough to be a cougar, and even though he didn’t know her exact age, considering she was already doing her masters, it didn’t take a very large leap of faith to assume she had a couple of years on him at least and if that made her a puma, so be it.

“That kitty doesn’t just scratch either,” Gronk pointed out, causing Sidney to wince as a wet towel came painfully in contact with his bare ass very near what was still a painful bruise that Sidney was sure would be an almost perfect impression of Mya’s upper and lower front teeth.

“Nice work,” Max added in a congratulatory fashion, patting Sidney on the shoulder before taking up his place at the next shower head, turning his face up into the hot spray. “I guess we don’t have to ask if you and the lovely Sugar Mellon have made up,” he added, causing a ripple of laughter around the room. Sidney felt his cheeks begin to burn at the thought of half the guys in the room being able to visualize his girlfriend naked right now.

Girlfriend…. Sidney grinned, jealous thoughts momentarily swept aside momentarily as he thought about her as part of his life. Girlfriend. He liked the sound of it, and he liked the idea of getting dressed and calling her, meeting her for dinner, talking to her for hours by flickering candlelight….

“Are you going to bring her to the Christmas do? Introduce her to the folks?” Cookie asked, turning off his shower and leaning, nonchalantly against the tiles, looking interested. Sidney opened his mouth to say yes, of course, because that was the first answer that came immediately to mind. Just like thinking of her as his girlfriend, it seemed right, natural. He liked being with her. Well that much was obvious, to everyone seemingly, and yet….

“I don’t know…I hadn’t really thought about it,” Sidney mumbled instead, thinking about the family event that the Pens management held every year right about this time, with the family skate at the arena, a catered dinner, Santa Claus, the whole thing. He’d always just sort of hung out with the other single guys. He’d never had anyone to bring but now….

“Probably a good plan,” Jordy snorted, toweling off his blonde hair before wrapping a towel around his mid section and reaching for another one, making Sidney flinch as he started to twirl it threateningly. “What would Nathalie say about the prince and the stripper? Hey, that sounds like a good porn movie name. Hey, did you hear that Max, Prince Sid and the Stripper,” Jordan chuckled at his own joke as he headed back towards the room.

“He has a point mon ami,” Flower agreed quietly. “Ce qui ton parents disent à ce sujet?” Sidney nodded. It was definitely a point. Not that it was strictly any of their business but…it was something they’d probably find out, or at the very least it was a subject they’d have to deal with sooner or later. Hopefully much later, he thought grimly as he shut off the shower and grabbed his own towel. Maybe by that time…no…absolutely by the time it came to telling his parents about his fledgling relationship with Mya, she would be doing something more…legit.

“She probably wouldn’t want to go anyway,” Sidney shrugged, rubbing his dark locks savagely with the towel before wrapping it around his waist.

“Who’s going where?” Max hollered from beneath the spray of his shower. “Are we going somewhere? I could eat!”

“You and your stomach,” Cookie laughed, whipping a towel in Max’s direction before walking out of the shower.

“I could eat,” Sidney thought about his grumbling stomach as he wrapped his watch back around his wrist, glancing at the time. It was only a little after eleven. Mya wouldn’t be off work until after the lunch hour she’d said. He grimaced at the thought of what she’d be doing but shook off the thought. It was definitely better not to think about it. “I’m not picking up Mya ‘til later. She’s…she’s working.”

“You know what we could do?” Max grinned in a way that made the small hairs on the back of Sidney’s neck stand up on end. Nothing good ever came from Max grinning that way. “We could go to Blush for wings, that way you’re right there. Saves gas. C’mon Creature, what do you say? Do your part for the planet?”

“Hell no, no way,” Sidney shook his head vehemently.

“What’s up mon capitain?” Tanger drawled suddenly from somewhere behind him. Sidney turned to see the long-haired defenseman watching him from beneath his overgrown bangs. “I thought you liked to share?” Sidney’s hands balled into fists and his teeth ground together as Tanger’s dark eyes gazed back at him, unblinking, a clear challenge in his sneer. Sidney badly wanted to knock that self satisfied look off of his face, but at the same time, Kris was his teammate and he had been dating Mya. So he uncurled his fists and took a deep breath before turning his back on him, literally turning the other cheek.

“Did someone say Blush?” Jordy yelled, suddenly reappearing around the corner, hopping on one leg as he got into his jeans.

“Will your baby mommy let you got out?” Max asked, sounding jazzed about the idea.

“Hey, no one is going to Blush. Blush is off limits,” Sidney called out, glaring around the room as all eyes turned to him.

“The cat’s already out of the bag on that one,” Max corrected him, draping his arm companionably around his shoulder. “We’ve already seen it. Besides, they have ten cent wings at lunch time.”

“I’ll fucking pay for lunch, anywhere you guys want to go as long as it’s not….”

“Blush it is!” Jordy yelled, a roar going up from around the room, drowning out Sidney’s loud groan of disagreement.

“Il vaut probablement mieux de ne pas le combattre,” Fleur suggested quietly, placing his hand gently on Sidney’s shoulder. “It’s probably better to be there than to imagine….”

“Yeah I get that,” Sidney snapped, hating the idea, but knowing that his soft spoken friend was probably right. Still, he felt sick to his stomach at the idea of her getting naked in front of strangers, but in front of his friends…just thinking about it made him want to punch someone in the face.

_____________________________________________________________

It covers a multitude of sins, or in your case, bite marks,” Cassidy remarked, stepping back to survey her handiwork, which largely consisted of Mya, strapped and poured into a new costume, an even sexier and far naughtier cop costume that consisted mostly of skin tight black latex.

“I can’t breathe,” Mya complained, turning slowly in front of the mirror and grinning at her reflection, “but it’s worth it.”

“That’s the thing about the lunch crowd I like,” Hannah chimed in from her chair in front of the mirror where she was slathering on the make up to go with her new costume, which for the most part seemed to consist mostly of body paint, “they don’t really care that you don’t get naked. They’re more interested in the wings than us, so if you’re hung over or, in your case, covered in love bites, they don’t really notice.”

None of the dancers really liked doing the noon hour. It meant getting up in the middle of the day, which a lot of the other dancers had a problem with, and it didn’t pay nearly as well as working the evening crowd. Normally the lunch time crowd was a job for newbies, or the girls that the management deemed ‘past it’, but with Christmas fast approaching, girls were asking for time off left and right and that left the girls who needed the extra cash, which was why Mya was sucking in her stomach as she stared at herself in the mirror.

There were only a few more payments to make against her Aunt’s hospital bill, and with construction slowing down with the fast approaching Holiday Season and the inclement weather, there was no choice but to take any shift offered. Besides, now, it seemed, she had another Christmas gift to buy.

“Maybe I should get one of these outfits to take home,” she mused out loud, turning to see the way the ‘skirt’ barely covered her ass cheeks. “I can wear it for Sid for Christmas.”

“Have I told you yet today how much I hate you for that?” Cassidy groaned, narrowing her eyes at Mya as she pulled on a pair of silver short shorts, part of her alien costume, complete with a green wig and matching lipstick.

“Well don’t hate me yet,” Mya warned with a smile. “Wait until Pens management find out where I work. Then we’ll see if I actually have him or not,” Mya added with a sigh as she reached for her gun belt, complete with matching realistic looking six shooters.

“Still hate you,” Cassidy sniffed, leaning over to pull on her giant silver metallic platform boots. “Every time I watch the Pens I’m going to hate you.”

“Wow, what is with all the hatin’ goin’ on back here? There’s a love in goin’ on out there.” Marti, one of the newer girls appeared amongst them, her ice cream bucket full and her g-string still stuffed with singles and fives. Mya stared at the pretty Latina, astonished. She hadn’t worked many lunch hours, but in the few she had, she’d never made that kind of haul.

“What did you do? Blow them for fives?” Cassidy asked, grabbing the bucket and dumping it out on the make-up table.

“No I fucking did not,” Marti snarled, reaching to grab at the pile of bills, even though none of the rest of the girls were making any moves towards her earnings. “A bunch of young guys just came in and they’re having a good time is all. Shit. Get out there and shake your own ass for it,” she suggested as she stepped out of her g-string and started picking bills up off of the floor.

“Huh, well I’m next, so they’re might not be any left for you Cass, sorry,” Mya grinned, blowing kisses as she marched up the stairs to her introduction and threw open the curtain.

________________________________________________________________________

Laughing, Max pushed Sidney towards the stools at the side of the catwalk part of the stage. It was bad enough being here, seeing a room full of men who were going to watch his girlfriend get naked. The last place he wanted to be was right up front where she could see how much he hated this. And he was going to hate it. There was no doubt in his mind about that. It didn’t matter to him that Max and Pascal and Flower had already seen her dance.

Well maybe it did.

“Relax mon ami,” Max hissed in his ear, pressing him forcefully down onto the stool. “Sure they’ll see her but she’ll go home with you, non?” Sidney had to accede to that point. All things being equal, Mya would certainly warm his bed and hopefully his body later, but that didn’t make him feel any easier about sharing her with all of these men.

Jordy pushed a beer in front of him and Sidney, not normally a beer drinker, chugged it down like he was taking a shot. He was going to need it and lots more besides. Dutch courage or being fall down drunk was going to be the only way he was going to get through this.

“How about a big hand to welcome to our stage, one of our crowd favourites, Sugar!”

It was only because Max stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out one of those loud, shrill blasts that Sidney even looked up to see Mya strutting down the runway to the beat of Nickelback’s S.E.X. She was coming towards them, swathed in black from head to toe. Thigh high black patent boots with impossibly high heels, fishnet stockings attached to garters that peeked out from beneath a black latex mini dress with a zipper at the front, which she’d already pulled down to reveal her ample cleavage. Elbow gloves and a straight black wig under a cop hat completed the outrageously sexy outfit.

Sidney’s mouth went dry, his heart hammered in his chest as she paced down to the end of the runway and paused in front of them, pulling a pair of realistic looking pistols from her belt, holding them high over her head while she wiggled her hips, causing the crowd to yell and whistle.

Not that he blamed them.

Fuck she looked hot, but that wasn’t the point. She was his. Hot or not, he didn’t want to share her, not with anyone.

“You are one lucky fucking bastard, you know that?” Jordy yelled in his ear over the general noise of the crowd as Mya stuck the pistols back in her belt and turned around, spreading her legs and doing one of those slow touch your toes kind of moves that made the dress both ride up and pull impossibly tight across her ass. Sidney clutched the edge of the stage. He felt like he was going to hyperventilate.

“Fuck you Gronk...go home to your wife,” he managed to croak, reaching over to grab Jordan by the collar, twisting his shirt in his fists until Jordan’s skin turned a dangerous hue of blue. The red haze had taken over, jealousy fuelling his rage. It was only the feel of cool steel under his chin that brought him back to himself. She lifted his chin with the barrel of one of her pistols and gazed into his eyes with a mischievous grin.

“Behave baby,” she whispered, pursing her lips like she might kiss him, before turning and strutting away from him, grabbing the brass pole with one hand, wrapping her leg around it and with a little hop, spinning down it, slowly, her eyes locked with his the entire time.

He let go of Jordan’s shirt. It was either that or kill him, which Mya obviously didn’t want him to do. Instead, he forced himself to sit on his hands. He wanted to stare at the floor, but kept seeing those shiny black patent boots, which led his eyes up to her fishnet wrapped thighs and every time he did that, the zipper on her dress was getting lower and that...well that was making him crazy.

His cock was throbbing in his pants, twitching, impatient to be inside of the object of his affection. This was worse than anything she’d done to him at home. H thought he’d seen her in some pretty sexy stuff but none of that lacy stuff she wore compared to this.

He felt like he was cheating and not in the way he felt about Randi when he was with Mya. He felt like he was looking at some other woman and wanting to do things to her that he’d never even contemplated before. Things that he could hardly admit he wanted to do.

Licking his lips, he watched her grind against the pole, sliding her back down it, one arm still holding the bar, the other spreading her knees, flashing a black satin g-string that barely coved the soft pink valley he craved. Sidney shut his eyes tight. He couldn’t watch any more. He had to leave or drag her off of the stage.

_____________________________________________________________

“Hold him down Max,” Mya called as she dropped to her knees, unzipping the black latex dress and tossing it behind her. The crowd howled, but she didn’t care about the rest of the crowd.

Max obliged. He and Jordy stood behind Sidney, their hands on his shoulders, forcing him to stay where he was and blocking his escape. They couldn’t make him watch though, short of forcing a pair of toothpicks into his eyelids.

She could hardly believe he was here and by the look on his face, neither could Sidney. What was even stranger than him sitting there at the end of the catwalk was the way it made her feel to see him there. She’d never felt like this out on this stage. She’d never been turned on by someone watching her strip but she was now. She was getting off on the need in his eyes, the longing that was almost pain.

For his part, Sidney was looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here and part of her felt bad for him. It was clear that this was killing him, knowing all these men were staring at her, were looking at her like she was some kind of centerfold to wack off to. But part of her was enjoying making him squirm. Mya opened her mouth to call his name as she went onto all fours. She wanted him to see this, and he accommodated without her having to ask.

Crawling towards him on all fours, she let all of her desire, all of her longing for him fill her eyes.

Normally, she would think about just about anything else besides the men watching her or what they might possibly be thinking. She’d do her shopping in her head rather than look out at the horny middle aged men gnawing on their chicken wings and drinking warm beer while they fondled themselves under the table. She didn’t really care about the crowd. Sure she wanted the tips, but she didn’t need them as bad as Hannah did so she wouldn’t normally spend that much time interacting with the guys lined up around the stage.

Tonight was different though. She wanted him to see that she was good at this. She wanted him to appreciate what she could do. Most of all, tonight she wanted to dance for him and she wanted him to like it.

She watched his pink tongue sweep his full lower lip and she wanted to bite it, and she let him know it, stopping in front of him, kneeling and licking her own lips and lifting her breasts out of the cups of her bra.

The crowd howled again.

She could have cared less. It was his pupils dilating that she wanted. It was his deep breath, the sweat breaking out on his forehead that told her that she was firmly in control. She had him on a leash. He was hers’.

She rolled her nipples between her thumb and forefinger, tugging, tweaking until they were hard. It didn’t take much. She was aching for him. She knew what it looked like, the black satin gloves against her pale skin. She knew how white her skin looked under these lights, and the dark gloves made her skin look like it was glowing. She loved how hiis gaze was riveted to her tits, his jaw slack with need. She knew exactly what he was thinking and she had to bite down on her cheek to stop from moaning out loud.

Even last night there had been times, fleeting moments, when she could see that other woman, his dead girlfriend, reflected back in his eyes. He’d thought of her, even when he was inside of her and she’d said nothing, telling herself that he’d been honest about that relationship and that he was still hurting. She knew it would take time for him to leave all of that behind him.

But now, now he was only looking at her and there was no one else in his eyes.

Normally, just about at this time in her act, in the evening at least, she’d slide her hand down into her g-string and feign masturbation but that seemed like too much now, like it would be too much for him. Like it would be just cruel considering it was obvious that he was suffering already. She could see the veins standing out in his temples, the thrust of his chin, the way he was gnawing on the corner of his lip.

So instead she took one of the guns out of its’ holster and licked the cool steel barrel. Slowly, deliberately, she dragged her tongue from the stock to the tip, circling the tip slowly before sliding the barrel into her mouth. He looked like he wanted to look away, like he was wishing he could close his eyes but didn’t dare. Mya imagined she could taste the slightly salty musk of him and closed her eyes, circling her nipples with the tip of the gun.

The crowd was going insane now and bills were raining down all around her but she didn’t care. It didn’t matter to her if all of the money on the stage would pay for her rent for the month. She didn’t care if it was enough to pay off her Aunt’s medical bill.

All she cared about was the look on his face as her eyes fluttered open and their gazes locked.
_______________________________________________________________

He wanted to fuck her, right now, right here in front of all of these people and he could barely make himself stay where he was. He wanted to drag her off of the stage and do unspeakable things to her. He wanted her to beg for it. He wanted her to tell him that she would never do this again.

Mostly he just wanted her to stop. This was unbearable. He could hear his teammates whistling and shouting and he hated it. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Tanger sitting off to the side, staring into his beer and wondered if he hated it too.

Even if he did, Sidney thought, he couldn’t possibly hate it as much as he did. She was gorgeous, beautiful. She didn’t need to do this. Of course she had a body that was made for sin. She looked the part but that didn’t mean she had to do this. There had to be something else, anything else that she could do apart from this. No matter how turned on he was by it, which he was a little ashamed of on top of it all.
He fucking loved her and he shouldn’t want to do the things that watching her stick the barrel of that gun down…oh god.

“Stop,” he croaked, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. He could not watch any more. He would not.

The crowd was clapping and chanting that strange name, her stripper name, Sugar, over and over and he would not open his eyes. Not even when he felt her gloved hand brushing his cheek. Not even when he heard her voice, warm like liquid honey in his ear, calling his name. He kept his eyes closed tight and shook his head. He would not look.

“Come with me,” she whispered, urging him to his feet, her hand curling around his.
“Is it over?” he hissed back, barely able to suck in enough air to make speech possible.

“That depends,” she replied, her lips brushing his cheek. “Do you want a private dance, Mr. Crosby?”

He stumbled after her, his brain racing ahead of his feet, contemplating all of the x-rated visuals his mind had already fashioned in his imagination while the other part of his brain told him to turn back, that this was a very bad idea. This was just the kind of situation that Mario, hell for that matter, the league warned players about. People always have cameras. These days, anyone with a cell phone had a camera. This was the kind of thing that went on youtube with a caption like Crosby Gets Creative with Stripper. This was all kinds of bad and yet, as soon as the door closed on the cramped private room, even knowing that didn’t stop him from pressing her up against the wall and fumbling urgently with his zipper and her g-string.

He shoved himself home with a groan, sheathing himself entirely within her. It was a relief. It was like he could finally breathe once his cock was deep inside of her.

Pressing his forehead against her shoulder, he dragged her legs up around him and felt her lock them behind his back. Inhaling the now familiar lavender scent from her neck, Sidney began the urgent thrusting that his brain demanded. The sound of their bodies meeting, of hers slamming against the wall, was like a mantra. It was like he was saying ‘mine, mine, mine’ every time their bodies met.

He barely heard her high pitched cry, scarcely took heed of her body shaking and clutching at his. The red haze didn’t care if she came or not. He only wanted to punish her and take his own pleasure. He wanted to teach her a lesson. He wanted to take back what all those men had polluted with their wolf whistles and foul mouthed comments. He was like a wolf marking its territory, an Alpha claiming his mate.

It was only when he finally spilled himself inside of her that he came back to himself, a little ashamed, a little confused but relieved as he captured her lips with his and felt her fingers digging into his hair, her tongue twining with his.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” he whispered breathlessly as he kissed his way down to her neck. “I just…I had to…after…oh Christ.”

“It’s okay,” she chuckled as he let her down, gently, to her feet. “I’m sorry I teased you but…oh fuck it. I loved making you want me Sidney. Me. Not your dead girlfriend. Me.”

“I do,” he promised, kissing her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her soft, sweet lips. “I want you. I fucking want you for myself. Always.”