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 17

I'm not strong enough to stay away
Can't run from you
I'd just run back to you
Like a moth I'm drawn into your flame
You say my name but it's not the same
You look in my eyes
I'm stripped of my pride
And my soul surrenders
And you bring my heart to its knees

And it's killing me when you're away
And I wanna leave
And I wanna stay
And I'm so confused
So hard to choose between the pleasure and the pain
And I know it's wrong
And I know it's right
And even if I tried to win the fight
My heart would overrule my mind
And I'm not strong enough to stay away

There's nothing I can do
My heart is chained to you
And I can't get free
Look what this love has done to me

(lyrics from Not Strong Enough – Apocalyptica ft Brent Smith http://youtu.be/OuaWOt9ljEg)

This is the hard part, she knows from experience. This is the part where she has to watch him go out there and do what he has to do. This is the part where he can get hurt. Oh not like a bull rider, ‘thank god for that’ she thinks as he stretches his long arms over his head and cracks his knuckles. But even that’s not the hardest part this time, she knows as he turns and gives her that hesitant little boy smile that is hopeful and pessimistic all at the same time. This is when she’s supposed to kiss him for luck and they both know it. He’s hoping she will and for her part Chelsea suddenly feels like she’s dangling at the end of some kind of thread, swinging in the wind between what if and why not. 

If she kisses him then they’re back together and Mike was just exactly what he had been meant to be all along; a rebound and nothing more. On the other hand, if she doesn’t kiss him, here in front of all of these people, some of them friends, then there will be questions, there will be looks and worse than that, she’ll have hurt him and after what he’d done by not taking advantage of her when she practically begged him to that seems unforgiveable. 

She can feel her pulse rise as she walks towards him and the way Jimmy tries not to look like an eager puppy tugs at her heart strings. She could still walk away. He knows it and she knows it and if he takes it for granted that she won’t then she definitely will. Even as she stands in front of him she hasn’t made up her mind completely. It isn’t until he grins like he’s just been given his heart’s desire and relief flashes behind his blue eyes that she knows. Right up until that moment she could have kissed his cheek and she knows as she goes up on tip toe now that if that was all she’d offered he’d have taken it gratefully. 

His arms are a familiar confinement when they wrap around the small of her back. They don’t remind her of being in an anaconda’s clutches like it does when Mike holds her but it is like putting on a seat belt, familiar, tried and true. His lips are warm and soft when they capture hers but the kiss doesn’t make her toes curl. The kiss is like the first mouthful of homemade apple pie; as warm and good as you remember it being, but it isn’t chocolate mousse. 

“Good luck Jimmy,” she whispers as he holds onto her a beat or two too long, almost like he’s afraid to let her go. 

“I’m going to make this run for you,” he tells her earnestly and she can’t help but smile and nod. She knows he’ll take down that steer and wrestle it into submission and when he does he’ll turn and grin up at her and if his hat hasn’t come off in the process he’ll toss it into the air. She knows all of that like she knows that the sun will go down tonight and come up again in the morning. 

“I’ll be right here,” she tells him and goes back up on tip toe to gently brush her lips against his again. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning. Her heart breaks a little but she holds that smile and all of the affection she has for him and every ounce of safety she feels in his presence in her eyes and when he turns and heads for the chute she knows the extra bounce in his step is something she’s put there. 

There are other girls, other women leaning on the rails watching the big men who do this event show off their muscles. She knows some of them and she looks longingly towards an empty spot at the railing where some of the other barrel riders are whistling and calling out bawdy cat calls to Jimmy as he climbs into the saddle. She can remember being one of them, being a little insecure when some of the girls with their blonde pony tails and flashy tasselled blouses would call out to him, offering their special favours if he won. 

“Chels?” She freezes as she turns to head in the direction of those familiar faces. Dropping her head she knows without needing him to tell her that he’s seen the whole exchange. The hurt in his voice makes it crystal clear that he’d seen it all.

 _______________________________________________________________

Finding her in this crowd was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack, Mike thought as he took back his ticket and headed into the grandstands. He scanned every face as he sidestepped through the aisle, his ass bumping buckets of popcorn as he followed Brooks towards their seats. He hadn’t wanted to sit, hadn’t wanted to buy the tickets at all but it had been their only way in. Even now he didn’t want to sit, didn’t think that he could. 

He knew that she had to be hating him right now and as every single moment passed he could feel her getting further away from him. 

“Hey look at this,” Brooks shoved the program into his hand. Mike looked down at without seeing it and then looked helplessly at his friend. He couldn’t seriously want him to read this right now. Rolling his eyes the big forward reached over, opened it and pointed to the time and the event scheduled. “Just in time, that’s all I’m saying. His event is up.” 

Mike was from Calgary, he’d been going to Stampede his whole life but he never really got into the whole cowboy thing. Still, he knew what the steer wrestling was. It was for show offs; big guys landing on little cows and looking tough. He sneered. 

“Wonder if I can pay someone to sharpen up the cows horns and run the fucker through,” he hissed. The woman sitting beside them clapped her hands over her young daughter’s ears and Brooks shook his head. Mike shrugged and slid further down in his seat. 

“Can you just look for her without running your pie hole?” Brooks hissed back at him and Mike hunched his shoulders and tried to become one with the seat. There were all manner, shape and size of cowboys milling around the chutes. He’d thought he’d be able to pick Jimmy out but as hard as he stared at every single straw cowboy hat, one beanpole in jeans looked pretty much like the rest; until he saw her red hair. That was like a beacon in the darkness. 

Mike was on his feet and shoving his way down the aisle, stepping on toes and knocking over popcorn buckets and gallons of pop before winning his way to the stairs and flying down them. He thought he heard Brooks calling after him, spouting some kind of well meaning suggestion no doubt, but he’d had quite enough of the big man’s advice and ignored the voice behind him. Instead, he zeroed on the way her ass poured into those dark jeans and how the white stitching hugged her curves in a way that made his mouth water. 

“Hey buddy, where do you think you’re going?” Someone stepped in front of him and he had a split second to think that the guy had made a stupid decision before he straight armed him out of his path. Mike heard the guy call after him but just as he’d done with Brooks, he ignored the shouted warning and continued towards his goal. 

And then he wished he hadn’t. Then he wished he’d never woken up, never gotten dressed or got in the car to come to this god forsaken place. He swayed on his feet as he watched her go up on tip toes to offer her succulent mouth to the big dopey goof in the hat. He felt his stomach try and crawl up and out of his mouth as he watched their bodies fit together until there was no day light between them. He dry heaved as he saw the soft, love struck look on the big dick head’s face as he let her go. 

‘Go’ he told himself, ‘go now and pretend you didn’t see this’ but her name escaped his lips before he could listen to his own advice.  He was going to have to work on that, on thinking before he spoke and most importantly on considering his actions before he went running ahead like a bull in a china shop. If only he’d done that he might not be here now, he thought as he watched her scanning the faces of those nearest to her. He hoped she was looking for him but as her name escaped his lips unbidden, his mouth moving before he’d had a chance to stop himself, he knew, just by the way her head suddenly dipped and all of those red curls fell into her eyes that he was wrong and, worse than that, that he was much too late.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said quietly, looking at him through her lashes. He wanted to believe that she couldn’t face him. He was half afraid that she would and that he wouldn’t see himself in her eyes. He wanted to be fearless and tell her she was the one who shouldn’t be here but when he opened his mouth to say the words, those weren’t the words that spilled out. 

“I’m an ass; a fucking ass. Ask anyone. But that guy? I know I fucked up but...that guy, really?” Brooks had told him to grovel. Mike had planned to beg and he knew that he didn’t have the right to feel betrayed after what he’d done but he was currently fighting the urge to kick that skinny jean wearing cowpoke in the family jewels. 

“He’s…,” she turned to look towards where horses were currently being loaded into chutes and a hesitant smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. “He’s dependable,” she said quietly. In other words, not a cheating douchebag like him. Mike nodded. He didn’t need to be told. He knew what he’d done was the worst thing in the world. 

“I made a mistake,” he made a grab for her arm. She took a step back and stuck her hands in her back pockets. “Okay, a big, bad fucking huge ass mistake but I swear to god it will never happen again.” Her smile got sad and then she dropped her gaze and kicked her boot into the dirt. 

“I’m sure you mean that,” she whispered. He barely heard her over the announcer’s voice but he could read her lips, he’d had practice; all those nights of looking for instruction, harder, slower….

“What the…?” Mike moved faster than she could step away from him this time and grabbed her with both hands. “Fucking yell at me or something. C’mon let’s fight. Call me names. Jesus fucking Christ, don’t just stand there and act like it’s no big deal to you.” Those intense green eyes of hers looked into his and Mike felt the ground being pulled out from under his feet as he wondered how he could have already lost. It felt like he’d come out of the bathroom for the third period only to find he’d already missed the whole thing. 

“I don’t want to fight with you Mike,” she told him, her gaze poignant but unwavering. “You should just go.” It was on the tip of his tongue to ask where. He’d expected her to tell him to go to hell. He hadn’t expected her to be so damn calm. 

“But I told you I loved you.” It had come to this. He was panicking and reaching into the bottom of his bag of tricks and pulling out the only card he felt like he had left to play and she just stood there looking at him as if he was the very sweet but kind of slow kid in class. 

“I think that we both know that’s just something you say in the heat of the moment.” If she’d kicked him in the balls it couldn’t have hurt anymore Mike thought as he stared back at her. He’d been accused of a lot of things, been called a lot of names, on and off of the ice, but none of it, including the concussion he’d had last season had wounded him like this.  

“I guess if that’s what you want to believe it doesn’t matter what I say now huh?” he asked, putting on that mask he often wore out on the ice, the one that he hoped said he was one bad mamajama that shouldn’t be fucked with and more importantly that he didn’t care if you thought he was some kind of manboy for driving a scooter. “Well then I’ll just say it’s been a slice,” he said, giving her a smile that in no way matched the emotion he knew was in his eyes; the one where he kinda hoped her boyfriend fell off his horse and was trampled to death and that she grew old all alone. 

He held onto her a minute too long. Jesus Christ he thought he was going to cry as she blinked back at him, looking at him as if he was one of those scary guys from a horror movie whose face was all burlap sack and stitches, like she didn’t know him at all, which seemed right. 

He’d been a total fucking asshole and if she’d yelled and slapped and scratched he’d have gladly taken the abuse. He had no idea what to do with being kissed off like this. So with one last look at the freckles that bridged her nose and the way her hair curled against the moonlight pale skin of her cheeks, Mike forced himself to let go of her without saying any of the spiteful and angry words that were running around in his head, then he turned on his heel and left, without looking back. 

_________________________________________________________________

“Second’s not bad,” Jimmy reached across the bench seat of his pick up for her hand. Chelsea looked down at his big man paw with its long fingers and wondered if her hands were still shaking. She had been able to paint a smile on her face and congratulate him and she’d even been able to stand beside him like a dutiful girlfriend while other people patted him on the back and openly admired the gash the steer had opened on his arm like it was a trophy. Now that they were alone, she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to keep up the facade. 

“No,” she replied, giving him a quick smile, “not too bad at all.” He gave her hand a squeeze and then let it go for which she was grateful. Chelsea put her hand on her lap, laced it with her other one and turned her attention out the passenger side window. It was too hard to watch Jimmy humming happily while her hands felt clammy and her stomach was still churning like she’d had bad Chinese. 

“It’s good to see the whole gang again,” he continued, blissfully unaware of how her skin was prickling with anxiety. She wanted to tell him to shut up, that all that she could think of was the look of revulsion on Mike’s face, as if she’d been the one that had done something unspeakable in front of God and everyone. She’d withdrawn somewhere inside of herself, hidden away like a rolled up hedgehog in a shrub at the side of the road and she was a little ashamed of herself for it. 

“I should have slapped him,” she muttered, digging her nails into her palms as her entire body began to shake, the shock just beginning to wear off, a slow burning rage taking its place. 

“What was that? Did you want to go home to change before we go to Cowboys?” Jimmy asked, turning to glance over at her, his contented grin like a ray of sunshine cutting through the emotional fog that had descended over her. She looked at his blue eyes, at the way the sunlight made his fair hair shine like wheat blowing in the wind and felt her chest get tight. 

“I don’t deserve your forgiving me like this,” she blurted out. His smile faded but just when she thought that she would see that blank expression take its place that would mean he didn’t want to talk about it, what she saw instead was a sort of empathetic tenderness she didn’t think she deserved. 

“Remember when you left for Washington, when I told you that you were free?” Chelsea nodded. It had felt like someone had lifted a noose from around her neck at the time. “I meant it,” he told her with an earnest smile, reaching across the cab with one hand and brushing the back of his hand along her cheek and then into her hair. “I didn’t think you’d bring that back here,” he added, sobering as he turned his attention back to the road, “but on the other hand, I knew I could never keep you long if I didn’t let you spread your wings a little bit.” He effortlessly twirled her hair around his finger and then let it go so that it bounced against her cheek. “I’m just sorry you got hurt in the process,” he added quietly, letting his hand fall onto the seat between them. Chelsea stared down at his hand, at his long fingers, remembering the way his tough, calloused skin had felt against hers’ and she shuddered. “Cold?” he asked, his gaze and the barest hint of a smile showing genuine concern. He reached for the controls for the air conditioner but she surprised herself by reaching out to stop him. He looked over at her, his eyes narrowed, confused. 

“So you’ll have me back, just like that?” she asked. His grin broadened. 

“Of course,” he said without a pause for thought. 

“Then we should get married, soon,” she blurted out. Jimmy swerved, cranking the truck over onto the shoulder of the road in a shower of gravel. 

“Do you mean it?” he asked, his face saying that he hoped she’d say yes, his eyes saying he thought she’d say no. 

“Yeah,” she replied, letting him wrap her up in his arms in a joyous bear hug. She bit back the rest of the sentence, ‘I think’ and did her best not to feel her heart break apart in her chest.

_______________________________________________________________

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Mike looked up at his friend over the bottle he’d just opened and grinned. 

“Never,” he replied and then tipped the bottle up to his lips and proceeded to try to empty it. Brooks raised an eyebrow and then shook his head. He was on his second bottle of JD and he could still feel his broken heart in his chest. He was going to need another bottle. 

“Pick a girl, any girl in this fucking place, take her home, bone the shit out of her and I guaranfuckingtee you will feel a hundred percent better.” Mike paused, bottle still in his hand and then shook his head, tilted the bottle back and drained it.

“More!” Mike slammed the bottle down on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand.

“Dude, you need to slow down,” Nicky sighed, even as he signalled the waitress to bring another bottle. She looked at Mike and shook her head. He grinned at her. She had red hair. He liked red heads. 

“No, what I need is not to take dating advice from Johnny Drama over there,” he moaned, aiming a threatening look at Brooks who only shrugged and then went back to admiring the scantily glad cowgirls out on the dance floor. 

“You could still get her back,” Nicky told him and that, to Mike, seemed hilarious. He put his head down on the table and laughed until he remembered that he was upset, so he reached for the bottle, which was still empty. 

“More!” he demanded, slamming the bottle down and then reaching for the half empty pint in front of Brooks who was obviously nowhere near as drunk as he was because the glass was gone before Mike could even reach across the table. 

“I could try and talk to her for you,” Nicky offered, peeling off a fifty to hand to the waitress who stood above them with the bottle dangling enticingly from her fingers. She had red nail polish. Her fingers would look good around his cock. ‘No. No, that’s how you got into this mess’ he reminded himself, watching her tuck the fifty into her cleavage as Nicky took the bottle. Mike reached for it. Nicky held it away from him. “You are not so drunk we could not go to one of your Timmy Hortons and get you a coffee and then we could go see her, together,” his Swedish friend offered. Mike eyed the bottle and then narrowed his eyes at his friend. 

“Gimme.” Shaking his head, Nicky held the bottle just out of his reach. 

“I thought you loved her.” Mike growled and made a swipe at the bottle. His fingers brushed it but he couldn’t close his hand around it. 

“Gimmethedamnthing,” he snarled, making another swipe at it and coming up with nothing but air.

“Well? Do you? Do you love the girl?” Mike had never been mad at Nicky before, but he was getting mad now. He stared at the bottle and then looked up into his road roomie’s eyes. 

“Gimmethefuckingbottle or I swear I’m gonna rip your fucking head off and let Ovie use it as a sock puppet,” he said as slowly and as ominously as he could. Backsy sighed but didn’t look the least bit worried as he handed him the bottle. Mike took it and was twisting off the top when he caught a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. He told himself it was just the waitress but that didn’t stop him from turning and watching her walk across the floor; or rather be led, pulled behind like a cart attached to a big fucking donkey. 

“No no no no!” Nicky had a hold of his arm before he even knew he was going to get up. Brooks was off of his barstool and grabbing a hold of the back of Mike’s belt before he’d even gotten all of the way to his feet. At that moment they’d have needed Boogard, may his soul be at peace, and a tow truck to stop Mike from following them to the bar.

“This is not a good idea man,” Brooks hissed in his ear as he tried, in vain, to pull Mike back down onto his barstool. Mike laughed. As if he didn’t already know that. As if the warning bells weren’t already going off in his head. 

He didn’t want to be that guy, the mug shot on Monday morning on the front of the Sports page. He didn’t want the call from Leonsis’ office telling him to get his heinie back to Washington. He didn’t want the stern talking to from McPhee. He certainly didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on his mother’s face when her son had to stand up in court and plead guilty to battery.  Even so, knowing all of that, he didn’t sit back down. Instead he turned and glared at his friends.

“Let. Go.” Brooks did, with a shake of his head and a roll of those big blue eyes the ladies liked so much. Nicky, on the other hand, held fast. 

“You’ll regret it,” his blonde, baby faced friend warned. Mike grinned. 

“I already fucking do.”