Chapter 21

Are we gonna do this or what?
I think you know I love you a lot
I think we've got a real good shot
Are you gonna kiss me or not?

(lyrics from Thompson Square Are you Gonna Kiss Me or Not?)

Mike skidded to a stop outside of his own bedroom door. He’d run through the airport. He’d run from the cab into the building and right to this spot and now he found that he couldn’t move. There was a woman in his bed and for once Mike was pretty god damned ecstatic about that. 

Now it was real. It had got pretty real when he’d offered to back up her friend Shannon while she told Jim Bob that he wasn’t getting married. Predictably the cowpoke hadn’t taken it well. Mike was now sporting an impressive shiner as the result of drawing Jimmy’s ire. Not that he regretted it. Especially not now, not with her shining scarlet curls spread out over his pillows. 

As he dragged his shirt over his head Mike toed off his shoes, stepping out of them as he made his way to the side of the bed. When he reached for his belt her eyes fluttered open and he was stopped in his tracks, learning all over again about the effects those leaf green eyes had on his soul. 

“Fucking Christ you’re beautiful,” he sighed, feeling rooted to the spot and very suddenly very unworthy of running his hands over her smooth, milky white skin. 

“Jimmy do that?” she asked, blinking sleepily up at him. 

“Oh this?” he pointed at his swollen eye. “I thought I’d bring you back a little something from home.” She shook her head and pursed her lips in obvious disapproval of Jimmy’s actions. “I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he added in a far more solemn tone. One corner of her full lips turned up and the seriousness left her gaze as she reached towards him and hooked one of her fingers in his belt loop. 

“Well if you want me to stay then you have a lot of grovelling to do Greener,” she purred, giving him a tug which he followed almost like she already had him on a leash, “I suggest you start now. I have a feeling that it might be a long, long day for you.” Mike smiled, the ache that had been in his chest since that day at Stampede finally easing as he kneeled on the bed and peeled his dark sheets back, revealing her inch by inch to his hungry gaze. He took in the view like a man stumbling out of the desert into an oasis, reminding himself as he did that he’d almost lost it, almost lost her forever. “Mike?” she asked quietly, her hand sliding down his thigh. Her touch felt like hot embers from a fire grazing his skin and he shuddered.

“I am so sorry,” he whispered, his breath caught in his throat as his gaze once again met hers. She smiled, sadness leaking into her eyes and making them darker, like a shady glade in the forest. 

“I know,” she whispered back, reaching for his hand and lacing her fingers with his. He looked down at their twined hands and choked back a sob. He’d come so close to never feeling her hand in his again. “Just...next time you get the urge to touch one of those puck sluts,” she began, giving his hand a little shake that brought his gaze back to hers’, “just know that when I find out, and I will, I’ll cut it off with a pair of rusty kitchen shears and feed it to your downstairs’ neighbor’s Pomeranian, and I won’t even take you to the hospital.”

Mike winced as he thought about the dog’s tiny razor sharp teeth; for some reason that bothered him more than the scissors. He didn’t tell her that he’d probably volunteer to do it himself if he ever thought he was going to lose her again. Somewhere in the back of his head he could hear Ovie and Brooksy telling him that it was uncool to give a chick that much power over him. Maybe it was, but then again, maybe they’d never felt what he did now as she pulled him down over her, as he felt the soft press of her breasts and her smooth, warm skin under his hands as he wrapped himself around her. 

He wanted to promise that it would never happen but he knew the temptations would be there, as long as he played in the league they wouldn’t go away. So as he kissed her, as he felt her fingers digging into his hair and her hips rising to press eagerly against him, he silently vowed to remind himself of this moment any time one of those cheap girls with their cheap clothes and their cheap perfumes threatened to make him forget. 

“I love you,” he whispered against her mouth as he wriggled out of his jeans and eased himself between her thighs. 

“Don’t forget that,” she whispered in return, her back arching, her words turning into a gasp as he slowly slid his cock home in her warm, wet pussy. Mike groaned as she enveloped him, as her nails dug into his back and as he felt his balls snug up tight. 

“That I can promise,” he told her hoarsely as he held himself still, as he fought not to embarrass himself, just as he’d had to do the first time and as he thought he might always have to do with her. 

She didn’t say it back and though it hurt, Mike reminded himself that he would have to be patient, that he would have to earn the honor of hearing her say those words. So, gritting his teeth, he slid his hands down to cup her ass, lifting it up off of the bed and began to make long, slow strokes that made her eyes flutter shut and her sweet, succulent mouth fall open in a soundless cry and he hoped that he would be as successful doing that as he had been earning his spot on the Caps’ roster. 

 _____________________________________________________________

“So you didn’t ask her yet?” Brooks looked relieved and that made Mike laugh. His friend had a real phobia about commitment which, he thought to himself, was exactly why Laich’s new living arrangements worked.

“There just hasn’t been the right moment,” Mike explained with a shrug as he hung his tie on the coat rack and started unbuttoning his dress shirt. 

“You gonna do it? You gonna ask her?” Ovie called from his corner. The only reason the big Russian cared was that it would be another excuse to have a party. So far they’d had a party for everyone being back in town, a party for the start of training camp, a party for the end of training camp and a party for the beginning of pre-season. Mike was beginning to fear the sight of a vodka bottle.

“Well...yeah, actually I had this idea...I dunno, it’s kinda dumb,” he began, feeling the tips of his ears beginning to heat up as he thought about it. The idea had come to him the night they’d helped Chelsea’s friend Shannon and Brooks move into Backsy’s place. They’d all ended watching Slapshot in the early hours of the morning while having a few wobbly pops. It had seemed like a funny idea at the time, but now, as he stood in the dressing room in his underwear surrounded by his teammates, he was definitely losing his nerve.

“If it comes from you Greener, of course it’s dumb,” Semin barked as he went by, snapping a wet towel at Mike, who easily dodged it. He was in better shape than he had been for years and he was pretty sure it was from all of the time he’s spent in bed with Chelsea and nothing at all to do with all the weights he’d lifted over the summer or the wind sprints Coach Boudreau was insisting on lately. 

“Yeah well I’m not asking you fuckers to do anything and you’ll all get a good fucking laugh I’m sure,” he muttered eyeing the bulge in the pocket of his suit jacket. 

“Good, she say yes, we have big party, my house,” Sasha grinned, slapping Mike on the back so hard he stumbled forward. “And if she no say yes, we drink anyway, da?” 

“Yeah, da,” Mike mumbled, his stomach churning uncomfortably at the idea of Chelsea turning him down.

________________________________________________________________

“Slut,” Chelsea muttered under her breath as Shannon slid into the seat beside her.

“Whore,” Shannon giggled as she handed Chelsea an extra large Coke. “I see what you mean about these seats,” she added as she settled a tray of nachos on her lap, “waay better than sitting up in the box.” Chelsea sipped the dark bubbly liquid through the straw and nodded. It wasn’t that she didn’t like any of the other girlfriends and the couple of wives but she liked being closer to the action where she could hear the sound of the blades digging into the ice and the crash of bodies against the glass. Plus, she could see every expression on Mike’s face from here. 

“He looks nervous,” she said, mostly to herself. He was staring straight ahead, watching Beags take a pass and streak towards the net but she knew him well enough now that she knew when he pursed his lips like he was doing now that he was worrying about something. 

“First game,” Shannon replied as she thoughtfully munched on a chip. 

“He was jazzed about it last night,” she countered, watching as he stopped a ricocheting puck and lined up his own shot, which missed and wildly bounced off of the boards. “It’s something else,” she added, again mostly to herself. 

“Brooks totally was too, but Nicky not so much. He was more nervous,” Shan said as her gaze followed the young Swede as he circled the ice slowly, his long blonde locks floating behind him like a miniature cape. As they both watched Brooks took two strides, put his shoulder down and sent Nicky into the boards. It wasn’t a hard hit and Backstrom bounced off of the boards but even the other fans around them gasped. 

“So they’re still getting along just great I see,” Chelsea smirked, glad to shift her worries to her friend’s unique living arrangements. 

“Nicky gets along with everybody,” Shan sighed, slowly loosening her grip on her drink so that her knuckles were not quite so white. “Brooks just doesn’t share as well.” Chelsea bit her bottom lip to stifle a bark of laughter. 

“I still have trouble imagining you in a them sandwich,” she snickered as they both watched the two men stare each other down. Chelsea felt Shan reach for her hand and then she winced as her friend grabbed her hand in a death grip. If they fought, on the ice, the two players would not be the only heads that Boudreau would be hunting. Fortunately, while they and everyone around them held their collective breaths, Mike skated between the two of them and gave them both the same look; ‘do it and I’ll kick your ass’. Nicky, not surprisingly, was the first to back down. Chelsea heard Shan blow out a breath and felt her friend ease her grip on her hand. “I’m sorry babes, I don’t see that working out in the long run,” Chelsea added as her friend went back to munching on her cheese covered chips. 

“Well they’re going to have to figure it out, as long as both of them are claiming to be the father,” Shan replied calmly as if it were an everyday occurrence to not be certain of the biological father of your unborn child. 

“And in the mean time you’re going to let them rip each other’s heads off?” Chelsea asked, keeping her voice low.

“Well a little healthy competition never hurt anyone,” Shan shrugged and grinned while Chelsea shook her head and laughed.

_______________________________________________________________

‘Oh god, oh god, oh god I can’t believe I’m doing this’ Mike thought as he glanced up at the scoreboard and watched the time tick down. His hands felt clammy in his gloves and his stomach was doing some crazy calisthenics. 

“Did I hear right?” Mike dropped his gaze to find the eldest of the Staal brothers lining up for a face off near the bench. “You gonna strip after the game out here?” Mike swallowed and nodded. Eric laughed. “We’re gonna stay and laugh, you know that right?” Again Mike could only nod. It was gonna be on you-tube in no time, there would be twit-pics of him in his jock that would make Kesler proud if it came to that. He hoped it wouldn’t. 

“You wait I get my phone,” Ovie warned from where he was standing at the end of the bench, ready to make the sprint down the tunnel; no doubt so that he could be the first to tweet about his humiliation Mike thought as the ref blew the whistle and he glanced back up at the scoreboard to watch the seconds tick down. 

“If you’re doing this just so that you think she can’t say no in front of all these people,” Nicky whispered, his gaze still on the ice as the players fought for the puck, “I wouldn’t,” he added in a serious tone. Mike glanced over at him and then back towards the seats where their women sat with their heads huddled together. Nicky was right, as usual, that was partly the reason for doing this so publicly but it was also so that she would know that he wanted the whole world and every puck bunny in it to know that he wanted her and her alone. 

“I have to,” Mike replied simply and felt his stomach do a back flip. He had thought he would get calmer the closer it got to the time but that wasn’t the way it was working out. 

“Well I hope for your sake that she says yes,” Nicky said, laying his gloved hand gently on Mike’s shoulder. “Otherwise you’re never going to hear the end of it.” 

“Like that’s even a possibility,” Mike mumbled. 

 ________________________________________________________________

“Ladies and gentleman, can we please have you remain in your seats at the end of the game for a special announcement.” 

Chelsea looked at Shan and raised an eyebrow.

“Damn, sounds ominous,” Shan hissed. The crowd around them rumbled, fans near them speculating everything from the President having been shot to some new bullshit award for Ovie. People that had begun to leave stood in the aisles as the Canes fought for one last shot. The Caps were up three to two. There was only three seconds left. 

“It’s probably just something about the next game,” Chelsea muttered, sitting back in her seat and dropping her purse back down between her feet. The whistle to signal the end of the game went and the players headed for the respective benches, but didn’t head down the corridors that would lead to the change rooms. Instead they milled around on the ice or stated on the benches. She was about to speculate that it was probably some charity thing when one of the half doors opened on the Caps bench and Mike stepped out onto the ice, minus his helmet. “What the...?” she began as she watched him fiddling with the switch on a wireless microphone. 

“Uh, hi, everyone and uh...thanks for staying. Ummm I hope you liked the game.” A roar went up. The fans loved a win. Mike waited for the roar to die down, a peculiar half smile on his face. “Uh, yeah, so not a lot of you know that I have a girlfriend.” An audible buzz filled the Verizon centre and Chelsea cringed. 

“Oh god, what is he doing?” she hissed, sliding down in her seat and wishing she had the power of invisibility.

“I don’t know,” Shan laughed, giving Chelsea a playful shove and pointing up at the big screen from which her own anxious face stared back at her, “but you won’t be able to say that none of the pucksluts know who you are after this.”

“But uh...anyways,” Mike got down on one knee, almost like he did when Coach Boudreau had them do in practice, “I wanted to ask her, in front of all of you who have made me so welcome here like I’m a member of your family,” he added and then, up on the big screen he smiled as he revealed a simple ring, holding it up as he faced her. “So whaddya say Chels, will you marry me?” 

He looked right at her and Chelsea felt the urge pull her jersey up over her head and try to disappear. She also had the urge to say no. How could he ask her in front of all of these people? He knew she hated crowds and hated all of the attention that he seemed to love. 

“Yeah, I kinda thought you’d be shy so uh...here’s the deal. I’m gonna strip until you give me your answer.”

Chelsea squealed and then she did pull her jersey up until just her eyes were showing as the first notes of Joe Cocker’s ‘You Can Leave Your Hat On’ began to play in the arena. 

“No, no, nooooo,” she squeaked as Backsy skated out onto the ice to take the microphone and Mike began to slowly skate away from centre ice. 

 ___________________________________________________________

Baby take off your coat
Real slow
Take off your shoes
I'll take off your shoes
Baby take off your dress
Yes, yes, yes

‘Oh god, I can’t believe I’m doing this’ Mike thought as he swung his jersey around his head on one finger. He looked right at her as he threw it against the glass. She was doing her best to try and disappear into her seat but he could hear the fans chanting ‘say yes, say yes’ and he realized that he wasn’t nervous anymore. 

Go over there, turn on the light
Hey, all the lights
Come over here, stand on that chair
Yeah, that's right
Raise your arms up in the air
Now shake 'em

He tossed his shoulder pads onto the ice, followed by his elbow pads and then slid his thumb under one of the straps of his suspenders. He was half way around the ice now and as he made the corner he could see Shannon trying to drag Chelsea to her feet. 

Suspicious minds are talkin'
They're tryin' to tear us apart
They don't believe in this love of mine
They don't know what love is

He stepped out of his hockey pants and kicked them aside. He could hear the guys hooting and hollering from the benches. He’d thought it would bother him but it surprised him that it didn’t, not as long as he focused on her. 

They don't know what love is

He dragged his t-shirt up over his head and started to swing it around his head when he got near to their seats and he was almost sure that she was trying to yell something. He just couldn’t hear it over the crowd and the music. He stopped at the glass and held his hand up behind his ear. She made a face and flipped him the bird. Mike shrugged and hooked and his thumbs under the waist band of his compression shorts. 

“She says yes!” 

There were probably two rows of people shouting it but it rang out loud and clear as Mike skidded to a stop, sending a shower of snow against the boards. He gestured at tone of the ushers at the top of the aisle, who ran down the steps and shoved a microphone in front of her. Chelsea made an angry face and then snatched the microphone. 

“Yes, alright? Yes, I’ll marry you just please don’t make these people look at your pale butt.” 

Chapter 20

They built you a cage of diamonds and gold
most beautiful place for you to grow old
They brought you the moon and served you the lie
and all that you wanted was freedom to fly

Harness your rage, take a leap of faith
to claim back your soul before it's too late
Show them no fear, sing them goodbye
Leave all but your heart and you're free to fly

(lyrics from “Heavy” by Laurie Ylönen)

“You know it’s supposed to be bad luck to be together the night before the wedding.” Her hand was pressed to the center of his chest and her back was pressed to the front door. She looked up into Jimmy’s blazing blue eyes and did her best to smile and look flirtatious when what she was really feeling was more akin to nauseous.

“This born again blushing maiden thing is cute, but you’re about to be my wife,” he told her, his grip on her wrist a little too tight. Chelsea could feel the beginning of pins and needles in her hand. 

“It’s traditional to spend the night before the wedding separately,” she told him, forcing herself to relax the hand she had pressed against his chest and to toy with the buttons on his shirt instead and felt him ease up as she went up on tip toe to press her lips against his. She closed her eyes and waited, as she had every night when he’d kissed her goodnight, for the butterflies to erupt in her stomach. Tonight, as they had every night, those butterflies stayed dormant.

“Alright,” he agreed with a smile, his hand lifting her hair up and over her shoulder, “but tomorrow night,” he began, leaning in to press another kiss to her lips. 

“Yeah, I know,” she agreed knowing that she was dreading it and trying to hide the annoyance of being reminded, again. “You get the old place all painted?” He’d been working on the house in the high meadow for years. He’d been working on it in earnest over the last year. He’d been putting the last lick of paint on it this week. 

“Might still smell of wet paint tomorrow,” he smiled, wrapping one of her curls around his finger, “but our little house is all ready for the honeymoon,” he added, leaning in to whisper in her ear.”I even put a fresh coat of paint in the nursery.” Chelsea took a deep breath and fought the urge to shudder. This was part of the choice she had made. Jimmy wanted children and lots of them. He’d always been clear on that and she was just as clear that it was how he’d tie her here and of course he would want to start right away. “What should we have first?” he continued, sliding his other hand down over her stomach, “a boy or a girl?” 

“I...I don’t think we get to decide that,” she mumbled, wriggling uncomfortably like a fish on a hook out of water. She knew her father was inside and she genuinely wished that he would flash the porch light on and off as a warning, just as he had done when she was younger. Back then she’d been mortified. Right now it would be a relief.

“Is my little firecracker getting nervous?” she heard him ask playfully, his lips brushing the curve of her neck. “Big day tomorrow,” he reminded her again. As if she needed reminding. 

“Yeah, you’d better let me get some sleep so I don’t have a snooze at the altar.” She reached for the door handle behind her, twisted it and felt it give. “See you tomorrow,” she said, blowing a kiss as she ducked into the house and slammed the door behind her. 

“If you don’t want to go through with it, all you have to do is say the word darlin’.” Chelsea froze. It took her a moment to realize that the voice she’d heard wasn’t Jimmy’s, but her grandfather’s. The old man sat at the table staring down at the cards he’d lined up as he slowly tapped his fingers on the rest of the deck with only the light of an old kerosene lamp to see by. The hiss the lamp made as it burned the fuel brought back so many memories and made her want to crawl in his lap the way she’d done when she was small, and help him pick out the mates to the cards in his hand. Hanging her head and pushing off from the door, she made her way slowly to the table and dropped heavily into the chair opposite him. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s just nerves,” she told him, or was it herself, as she overlooked his cards and then tapped on an open ten of spades.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked her, putting the nine of hearts up but not looking up at her, “because you’ve been biting everyone’s head off for the last couple of days,” he added and that’s when he looked up at her, one bushy eyebrow raised.  

“Mmmm, yeah,” she mumbled, reaching for one of the Oreo cookies he had on a plate, pulling it apart and rolling the gooey white filling into a ball which she then popped into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. 

“Well that sounds definitive,” he replied, a sarcastic lilt to his voice as he added an eight of clubs to the line of cards in front of him. “You sure you weren’t happier when you were seeing that other young man?” he asked, again without looking up at her. He shuffled through his cards and began again. Chelsea licked her lips reached for another cookie but her grandfather pulled the plate just out of her reach. “Chelsea Abigail Dobryak, do you want to marry Jim tomorrow or don’t you?” The same leaf green eyes she’d inherited stared back at her and she knew she could lie to herself, that she could lie to Jimmy and even Mike, but she could never, ever lie to this man.

“No Gramps. No, I don’t.” 

___________________________________________________________

Mike lay staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. He couldn’t sleep. Not knowing that tomorrow he was going to lose any chance at getting her back. 

When he’d taken Nicky and Brooks to the airport both of them had encouraged him to buy a ticket and get on the plane with them. He’d been tempted but in the end even the thought of all the short skirts in the windy streets of D.C. couldn’t entice him to leave, yet. 

He’d expected at least Brooks to have a good laugh at his expense when he’d told them his plans but both men had surprised him by offering to stay and back him up. He’d turned them down. This was something he needed to do on his own. 

Not that he knew what he was going to say. He thought he’d already said everything he could and she’d made it pretty clear that she’d made her choice and it wasn’t him. 

But there was one more thing he could say and as he lay on his back in the dark, he was amazed that the thought of saying it didn’t make him sick to his stomach and send him running for the Pepto Bismol. A brief few weeks ago he had been happy to have a different girl every night and he knew that Mike, the old Mike, would have laughed at the very idea of carrying out the plan that had formed in his head. But that Mike hadn’t known Chelsea and new Mike didn’t want to imagine going back to D.C. without her. 

“I am so fucked,” he told himself, not for the first time since he’d met her. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if his plan didn’t work. When Brooks had asked him what plan B was he’d had to admit that he didn’t have one. Plan B was coming back next summer and probably seeing her at Stampede with a kid in her arms watching Alan Jackson chasing baby cows around and that thought did make him want to pray to the porcelain god. 

Reaching blindly Mike felt around his bedside table for the family heirloom he’d astonished his mother by asking for. It had been his grandmother’s. It wasn’t anything fancy. It was just a thin gold band with a tiny diamond and it was nothing like the one she was wearing now, but this one meant something. It would mean the world if she’d agree to wear it.  

Mike turned it over in his hand and then held it up to the catch the light of the moon. It was tiny but it sparkled. It reminded him of Chelsea’s eyes. 

 __________________________________________________________

“Can I just say I am so going to enjoy telling him to suck it?” Chelsea didn’t even look up from stuffing her clothes into the almost full suitcase that was open on her bed but she did allow herself a quiet chuckle at her friend’s enthusiasm.

“I know you will,” she snorted as she shoved a handful of panties down one side and then reached for another handful. 

“He is gonna be so pissed,” Shan added, sounding pleased with the idea and Chelsea had to admit to herself that she was no longer worried about upsetting Jimmy. It seemed pretty amazing the difference a few hours had made. 

“Well just make sure my dad and Gramps are standing behind you when you tell him,” she instructed. Not that she was worried Jimmy would take a swing, not in front of God and everyone, but it she knew that their presence would not only add proof that what Shan would be telling him was the truth, but it would discourage him from making a scene. 

“How’s your Gran taking it?” Shan asked, stilling Chelsea’s frantic packing by closing her fingers around her arm. The two women’s eyes met and the only thing that had stopped her from leaving in the middle of the night brought tears to her eyes now. 

“She’s disappointed,” Chelsea admitted. 

“It’s this place, right?” Shan asked and Chelsea nodded. “It’s not like you won’t come back, right?” her friend added with a look that said she too was asking the question and Chelsea smiled and rolled her eyes. 

“Always, of course I will and even if...if things do actually work in Washington...it’s not like I won’t be back but it’s not the same.” It hadn’t been the same since her mother’s death. Everyone knew it and no more so than the woman who’d been running the ranch ever since. Her father couldn’t bear to enter the stables and now the only other blood relative she had would be gone. 

“No, I guess not,” Shan sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed reaching out to slide her fingers over the satin of the dress that hung on the back of the door and it would stay hanging there. “And I guess she’ll have to get a new hand. But, on the bright side, at least the next time you’re back he won’t be here and hey, maybe you guys will wanna rent the house in the upper meadow?” 

“Why, you wanna move into it?” Chelsea asked, pausing as she stared down at the diaphanous white gown her grandmother had bought her to wear on her wedding night. She thought about leaving it in the drawer, and then decided against to bring it with her. 

“I dunno,” Shan replied, lifting her eyebrow as she watched Chelsea fold the gown carefully onto the top of the pile of clothes in the suitcase. “Maybe when you come back next summer Mike can bring his friends again and I can have my own harem up there. Whaddya think?” The two women looked at each, both trying to keep straight faces, and then both lost the fight and they fell apart into a fit of giggles. 

When the giggles had subsided, their gazes met and Chelsea saw tears glimmering in her friend’s eyes.

“You’ll come visit,” she told her seriously. 

“You bet. When are the Pens playing in Washington?” They both smiled, but they were smiles tinged with sadness. 

“Now you’re sure Nicky said they’d all gone to the airport?” Chelsea asked, changing the subject, or rather bringing them back to the subject at hand. 

“Yeah, that’s what he texted last night,” Shan replied, digging out her phone to show her friend the evidence. Chelsea stared at the text and felt those butterflies stirring in her stomach at last.

“Am I stupid for doing this?” she asked. Shan just grinned and shook her head.

 _______________________________________________________________

Mike stared at the raised up four by four pick up with the streamers and rosettes taped to it parked in front of the church and rolled his eyes. There was just no way she could marry that yokel and yet he hadn’t been able to make himself open the door of his car to climb out and do something about that; at least not yet. 

He’d watched the guests going in, wearing their best summer dresses and light weight summer suits and every time he’d watched a couple walking up the steps he’d told himself he would go in right after them, or after the next couple, or the next couple for sure. And yet he was still in his car with a death grip on the steering wheel, listening to Kanye and trying to work up the courage. 

He needed a drink. 

No, he needed to grow a pair. He could hear the guys in his head. They’d be laughing at him and calling him a pussy and probably, no, definitely, worse. He didn’t need to actually have them here to know that they’d be taunting him. Well it was easy for them, he decided as he watched another car pull up and yet another young couple get out and walk up those stairs and into those doors. It was easy to talk the talk but he knew from walking out on to the ice during the play offs that it was an entirely different thing to actually walk the walk. 

It was the old Rolls Royce with the streamers tied to the hood ornament that stirred him to action. That would be her, he knew, or at the very least her grandparents, which meant she wouldn’t be far behind. 

‘Now or never Greener’, he told himself as he pulled the keys out of the ignition, pocketing them and pulling the ring out. 

“Here goes fucking nothin’”, he muttered under his breath as he stepped out onto the sidewalk and started to head towards the car as it pulled up to the curb. His heart hammered hard against his chest and all he could think was ‘what the fuck am I gonna do if she says no?’

“Mike?” 

His heart leaped in his chest but he knew, even before he turned around that it wasn’t her voice he’d just heard. He did know the face of the woman with all the dark curls in the burgundy halter dress though and he was glad she didn’t look pissed that he was here. That was something anyway.

“Ummm Shannon right?” he said, palming the ring and trying to look cool and calm. He was sweating like a pig in his best, most slick silver suit but he’d been told by a lot of women that he was pretty irresistible in it and if there was a time he needed to be that, it was now.

“What are you doing here?” Okay, so maybe she wasn’t happy to see him, Mike thought as he looked around at the quickly emptying sidewalk. He obviously wasn’t the only one that sensed that the bride’s arrival was, if not already at hand, at least close by. He wondered what she was going to look like. She’d be beautiful, of course, but then she always was but... “Hello? Earth to Mike...what you are you doing here?” 

“Oh...yeah, well I know it’s like...weird or something but...I just have to talk to her y’know?” he began, that tiny rock in his pocket suddenly weighed about a ton. ‘Get a grip Greener’, he thought as he realized that there was a really good chance he was about to totally bottle it. 

“Yeah, you two definitely need to talk but not here,” her friend hissed at him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him out of earshot of her grandparents who were getting out of the Rolls. Her grandmother sent him an evil glare. That woman really did not like him. 

“Well it’s kinda gotta be here ‘cuz she can’t marry him,” Mike tried to explain, wondering if maybe it was the shades. Was he trying to go for too cool for school instead of desperate? He went to pull them off but when he turned back to her friend, his hand just sort of stayed there, mid air, while she shook her head and laughed. “Wha..what? What’s so funny?” he asked, while she held onto her stomach and bit her lip; her full, ripe red bottom lip. No wonder Nicky had been sneaking her into his house in the middle of the night, Mike thought as he waited for her to gather some semblance of control. She was definitely doable in the ‘I would pick her out at a bar and take her home’ kind of way. Not that he should be thinking about women that way with a ring in his pocket, Mike scolded himself. 

“It’s just... well, she’s there and you’re here,” Shannon smirked and shook her head again. 

“There?” Mike looked up at the church. 

“No, dummy,” Shannon made a grab for his pocket and pulled out his iPhone. The ring fell on the ground. They both stared at the ring and then stared at one another and then she really started to laugh. 

 ____________________________________________________________

There was no answer. Chelsea tried the buzzer again, and waited, but there was still no answer. 

“Great,” she moaned, and went back to sit on her suitcase. She’d come all this way, came straight here from the airport even though she felt like she needed a shower, just to surprise him and he wasn’t even home. “He’s probably out with some floozie,” she mumbled, pulling out her phone, not for the first time, and considering whether or not to text him that she was here. It would ruin the element of surprise, for certain, but it sure as hell beat the pants off of sitting outside looking like she was begging for spare change. 

She had just slid the unlock bar from left to right on her phone when a text appeared. 

Nicky’s on his way with a key

Chelsea’s free hand flew up to cover her mouth as she let out a happy little squeal. 

Stay there, don’t move the next text said simply, I’m on the next flight.