Summary: Emma Swan, a member of the newly formed professional women's hockey league, has a chance meeting with hockey all-star Killian Jones after an aggravating loss.
A/N: It's been AGES and for that we apologize! There will be a small epilogue after this (when, we don't know - but it will come) and that's it for this story. Hopefully the length makes up for the wait, even just a little.
Chapter 2
When Killian sped into the rink parking lot, Granny was sweeping out the entryway. She held the door wide for him as he jogged up.
"You didn't have to inform me of her whereabouts, Granny," he leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thank you."
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Killian," she winked and motioned him through the door. "Now, don't do anything I wouldn't do, Captain."
He had a retort on the tip of his tongue, but didn't get the chance to speak before she had the door shut and locked behind him.
It was eerily quiet following the click of the lock, so he pushed through the double doors to the rink. The ice was empty. He tried to tamp down the fear that he may have once again missed his chance with Emma.
She must be finished with her skate.
Most of the lights were off as he made his way towards the locker rooms; he hoped she hadn't already slipped out the back. With that in mind, he quickened his pace as he rounded the corner by the zamboni.
Emma emerged from the locker room, her hockey bag slung over her shoulder while her attention was focused on her cell phone. Killian nearly barreled into her.
"Emma," he grabbed her arm to steady her.
"Killian," came her breathless response as she stepped back from his hold.
Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, her skin flushed and appeared to turn a shade darker when she looked up at him. They both stood stock-still for a moment, and he wondered what exactly he should say to her. He was going to have to handle this delicately to avoid driving her away again. He probably should've taken the time to think this through on his drive over.
Or your two bloody weeks of agony, you wanker.
Two weeks where it had dawned on him how well they clicked. Playing hockey was his job, and practice with the team was fine. But the connection the two of them had on the ice, he missed it. He missed her.
"I —" they both started at the same time, before Killian motioned for her to continue. He was curious to see what excuse she might come up with.
"I knew that old bird was up to something," Emma grumbled with a ghost of a smile passing over her lips.
"I've been hoping to run into you," he admitted softly, trying to catch her gaze, "but you've been rather difficult to locate."
"I've - uh - been really busy the last couple of weeks," she was staring at a spot on the wall behind him.
"Oh, I've no doubt you've been busy, Swan," he smiled, half-heartedly, "busy avoiding me, that is." He tried not to sound like a petulant child, but it was difficult to keep the hurt tone out of his voice.
"I - no, I haven't been avoiding you," she said, still refusing to meet his gaze.
"You know, I'm actually quite perceptive." He couldn't resist reaching out to brush an errant strand of hair back from her forehead. Her eyes finally met his. "And you missing our scheduled ice time, is avoiding me."
Emma was stunned he was there. The only way he could have known was from the meddling rink owner.
Why can't Granny mind her own business?
But, now he'd tracked her down. With no valid excuse, she shrugged, "You're right," she dropped her hockey bag on the floor, "I have been."
He shifted closer to her, his damp and dishevelled hair almost distracting her from the dark circles under his eyes. "Swan, the way we left things-"
"You're playing like shit," she interrupted him. She was in no mood to have a heart to heart talk with him. Calling him out on his recent play was a good way to divert him away from making her face her feelings.
"Aye, that's an understatement." His eyes widened as he swayed back and ran his hand along the nape of his neck. "Can't seem to come close to even hitting the net."
"Maybe you're gripping your stick too tight." Emma eased back into her comfort zone of teasing him about hockey. "But honestly?" she caught his gaze, "stay out of the box and don't telegraph your shots with where you're looking."
He leaned towards her and flashed a playful smile, "Will you meet me for another ice session?" He reached out to tug on the strings on her hoodie.
That is not at all what I expected.
She tried to keep her face neutral and not betray the surprise that he'd asked her to skate with him again. A glimmer of hope flared in her that he wasn't abandoning her, and that maybe she hadn't blown it by running.
"Not now obviously." He shifted his weight back. "We've both just finished skating, but perhaps later this week?"
"Uh, sure," she fumbled for an response. It was her fault that things were so awkward now; she really was sending the poor guy mixed signals.
"What assurances can you make that I won't be stood up again, Swan?" He captured her eyes with his own, and she hoped that he didn't read the trepidation she was fighting down.
"I'll be there."
He nodded at the phone in her hand, raising an eyebrow expectantly, "Given our history, can you blame me for being uncertain?"
She gestured toward him, "Give me your phone, I'll put in my number."
K: So you will be at Granny's tonight, yes?
E: Yes, Jones. I said I would, didn't I?
K: I'll bring something warm to drink if that will ensure your presence.
E: Make it hot chocolate?
Emma smacked her stick against Killian's shin pad to get his attention, "Try this toe drag move." She circled back around and curled the puck towards her skate before shooting it on the net.
They'd been baiting each other with a game of one-upmanship all evening. Granny's words rang through her mind as she slid another perfect pass his way... "Maybe you're feeling a bit lost and adrift out on that ice without someone to pass to."
Damn Granny for always being right, she scolded herself, but I was an idiot for blowing him off.
"Try this one Swan." He picked up a puck and took a serpentine route around some cones to cut across the front. He finished with a spin move to roof the puck up beneath the crossbar, knocking their shared water bottle off the top of the net by the force of his shot. "You can use that move to keep your three game scoring streak alive." He turned back to see her reaction, grinning wide and carefree.
So he's been keeping track of my games? She could feel her face heat up at the realization, and hoped he didn't notice.
He grabbed another puck and took aim along the bench where their empty hot chocolate cups sat. He managed to knock both of them off with one shot.
He looked like a kid in the candy store when he turned in her direction. She couldn't help but return his smile. "Now you're just showing off."
He dipped his head as his cheeks turned red. How could there be something else about him that she found endearing?
He whipped another puck off the boards and the thunderous sound hit Emma like a lightning bolt. It could work with him. If they clicked together so well on the ice why couldn't it be like that off? His reputation as the bad boy was not the Killian she'd gotten to know.
Her eyes followed him looping around with childish abandon. The time she'd spent ducking him had been empty - lonely - and the realization of how much she'd missed him was staring her in the face. Damnit she had feelings for him and what the hell was she going to do now?
He stick handled his way back toward her, "No love, it's pure skill." He bumped her shoulder, "I've got all kinds of talents."
"Oh really?" Emma rolled her eyes while she leaned against the boards for a break, "I wouldn't know that by watching your recent games."
He chuckled as he came to a stop in front of her. "Right for the jugular then, eh Swan?"
"Just callin' it like I see it," she shrugged.
"Aye," he nodded, "I'll admit to not having my usual touch around the net of late."
"Hmmm," she skated past him for the puck pile - an idea forming, "maybe you just need better incentive to put the puck in the net."
"Oh, I like the sound of that." He stole the puck from her stick and danced away from her on his skates. "What did you have in mind?"
A smile bloomed across her cheeks as she made her way towards him. Here goes nothing. "How about, you score a goal and get a reward?"
"And what type of reward were you thinking, love?" He was no longer skating, just staring at her with an eyebrow raised high.
She crowded him against the boards and bit her lip as she thought of a way to bring him down to her level. He glanced at her, his eyes darkening with desire.
"I suppose we could brainstorm for some ideas." She slid her leg behind his and pressed her hand to his chest. With just the slightest amount of pressure she knocked Killian off his feet and tumbled both of them down to the ice.
Emma landed on him with an 'umph,' his strong arms immediately wrapped around her. "You slew footing me is your idea of reward?"
"No, but now at least we're on equal footing." She laughed down at him splayed beneath her. "Now, as far as your motivation for putting the puck in the net," she slid off him and leaned her back against the boards, "how about if you score a goal, I'll agree to go out with you."
Did I really just ask Captain Hook out?
She waited for the panic to rise - for her throat to constrict and her vision to blur - but it never came.
Killian whipped his head in her direction a flash of shock passed across his features before he slipped his self-assured, confident mask back in place. He propped himself next to her, bumping shoulders. "Is this a negotiation?" His eyes lit up in delight.
"Don't push your luck, Hook," she playfully jabbed her finger into his chest.
He popped to his feet and extended his glove to help pull her up. "You'll have a front row seat next to the glass if you'll allow me to give you my tickets to the game." He leaned on his stick, "You can critique me in person."
Emma reigned in the flutter of nerves with his offer. There was no reason she shouldn't enjoy a rinkside seat to his game.
"Seems fair since you attended one of my games." She pushed off the boards and headed back to the pile of pucks at center ice. He followed along behind her before speeding up and circling around her.
"What would you say to two goals in the game?" His eyes gleamed with amusement. "What sort of bonus would I get for that?" He skidded to a quick stop at the net to grab the water bottle. "Imagine the reward for a hat trick!"
She slid to a stop and leaned on the net, enjoying the smug look that spread across his face. "I think you may be getting a bit ahead of yourself, considering your recent games."
She slipped her helmet off and bit her lip against a grin - and felt it widen as his eyes darted down to watch. The smouldering look he gave her made her breath hitch.
I really want to kiss him.
"Maybe we won't negotiate the terms, maybe I'll leave that a mystery."
"I do love a surprise," he winked, pulled his helmet off, and dropped it on the net as he came to a stop in front of her.
Her heart began to race as he reached for her braid resting on her shoulder. He tugged a strand of hair as he curled it around his finger sending a shiver down her spine.
God, I missed him.
He pulled her closer - her skates making it an easy task - and brushed his nose against hers.
The soft touch sent a flood of warmth down her body. She held her breath, trying to keep some semblance of control.
Having sex in the ice rink wouldn't give him much motivation.
She smirked as another idea came to mind. She leaned in and whispered, "No kiss until you score either."
She dropped her arms and skated backwards, grabbing her helmet off the net as she passed.
"Bloody minx," he growled.
"Just giving you more incentive." She shrugged with a sly grin - she knew she was being a tease, "Otherwise you may never score."
His laugh echoed through the empty rink as he put his own helmet back on and prepared to get back to their practice. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about me, Swan," he wiggled his eyebrows, "I have a feeling my dry spell will be coming to an end very soon."
Me too - she thought as she passed a puck to him.
Killian looped around the Garden ice one more time. He grabbed a puck and tossed it up over the glass to one of the kids watching warmups. The little girl caught it and shoved her friends aside as they tried to yank it from her grasp. He gave Emma a wink as he caught her gaze from his seats. As he skated past her he noticed she was wearing a game shirt.
Is that my jersey?
He could clearly see the Captain's "C" on the front, but nearly careened into a teammate trying to catch the number.
With her challenge foremost in his mind, he focused on getting ready to bury every chance he got at the net. It wasn't going to be easy; coach had demoted him to fourth line duty and penalty killing.
Good thing I love a challenge.
Instinct took over once the game started. He waited anxiously on the end of the bench, watching the opposing goalie, noting his penchant for dropping down early. It wasn't long before Will took a dumb slashing penalty and he got his first shift on the kill.
He was able to pick off a pass and streaked down the ice intent on getting a goal. One little head fake had the goalie making the mistake of flopping to the ice and Killian was able to rifle the puck into the upper corner of the net.
The building erupted into frenzied cheers but Killian only noticed the smile on Swan's face as he grinned at her through the glass. It was a brief flash before his teammates were hugging him and whacking the top of his head in celebration. It was always an incredible thrill to score a goal, but the significance of this one made it that much sweeter.
Elated, Killian made his way to the bench; he couldn't stop smiling. The extra pressure he'd been weighted down by not performing was lifted, and a calm focus settled in his mind.
I'm going to do that again.
Halfway through the third period the coach rewarded his hustle on the ice and bumped him up to the second line. He was happy to be back with his regular linemates. It was only a matter of time before August set him up with a perfect pass to the front of the net where he tipped it in for his second goal of the night.
He caught Emma's gaze as he looped by her after his celebration with the team. She raised an eyebrow with a flirtatious grin. Now he had no doubt he'd be getting another goal before this game was over.
I can feel it.
Will bumped him as they made their way back to the bench, "Is that Emma I see in the crowd, mate?"
"You never invite girls to watch you play," August appeared on his other side, "She wouldn't happen to have something to do with your sudden focus, would she?"
He looked at them both as they grabbed their water bottles and sat down, "I'm not talking about this, so you two might as well bugger off."
"He seems awfully defensive," August raised his brow to Will.
"Yea," Will nudged Killian's side with a chuckle, "Maybe a bit… on edge."
"Shut it, the both of you," Killian said as he glanced at Emma through the glass. He could see her concentrating on the game, yelling along with the other fans when the calls on the ice didn't go their way.
"The dopey smile is back," August pointed out.
When did I start smiling?
"I'll take that ridiculous grin to the scowls we've been gettin' the last two weeks," Will winked.
"Shut up and just help me get one more goal before the end of the game." He squirted his water at them to distract them from giving him any more shit.
"Oi!" Will raised his glove to deflect the stream of water from his face, "You got somthin' ridin' on this?"
Killian clenched his jaw; he was in the zone and didn't want to jinx the rest of his game. But he was determined to get that hat trick, he wanted to prove to the fans and himself that their captain was back.
He could feel August's gaze on him, reading him like he always could, "You have some sort of bet with Emma, don't you?"
Coach motioned for an upcoming shift change, so they put their water away and got ready. Killian turned to look at them both, "I already won the wager with Emma," When they both opened their mouths to say something, he cut them off, "I'm not saying anything else about it, mates. Just help me get one more goal."
Maybe it was the extra intensity Killian skated with, or the taunting by his linemates, but when the opposing player slipped by him his temper got the better of him. He couldn't keep his stick from rising up to yank on the guy's jersey. The player spun dramatically and fell to the ice and Killian found himself being sent to the penalty box for hooking.
"He embellished!" he fumed at the referee, angry at himself for taking the dumb penalty. Killian leaned back to watch his team play a man down for the next two minutes. He couldn't bring himself to glance toward Emma seated in the corner. She'd no doubt be mocking him for living up to his nickname.
Killian leaped out of the box when time expired on his penalty. He was determined to make up for his lapse in judgement. Coach motioned for him to stay out on the ice as the closing minute ticked down. Will caught his eye from the far side and gave him a little nod. Killian put on a burst of speed and raced up the boards, weaving around opposing players. Scarlett made a perfect cross ice pass to him for a one timer that beat the goalie. Hats rained down from the upper deck of the arena. Elated, he bent and grabbed one, sailing it back over the glass to Emma who caught it and turned to high five her friend before flushing a deep red. The jumbotron caught it all and the crowd cheered even louder.
Will bumped his shoulder on the way back to the locker rooms, "Who was the pretty blonde with Emma?"
"No clue, mate," Killian side-eyed him, wary at the idea of Will pursuing Emma's friend when they were on such shaky ground as it was, "But you don't need to concern yourself with her. There are plenty of women in Boston who don't hate you yet. You have time to change their minds."
"Oi," Will puffed out his chest, "Women love me!"
"Until you don't call," Killian winked and walked into the locker room.
For the first time in weeks he didn't throw his gloves into his locker in anger; it felt good to be back on track. He just had to get through the media circus, then he could find Swan and claim his kiss.
Emma and Elsa walked side-by-side to the parking garage after the game ended. Emma fiddled with the hat in her hand, a seemingly permanent grin on her face.
"That was so much fun, Emma," Elsa beamed, "Thank you so much for inviting me!"
"I'm glad you came," Emma smiled genuinely. Elsa was her teammate and one of her few close friends. "I'm sorry it was kind of last minute."
"Oh I always have time for a hockey game," Elsa laughed, "How did you get such amazing seats? We were right on the ice!"
Emma felt her face burn hot, she hadn't told anyone about Killian. Only Granny knew, and that was because it was unavoidable.
Emma busily racked her brain, trying to come up with a valid excuse that didn't involve Killian when Elsa piped up again, apparently too lost in thought to notice Emma's hesitance. "And was it just me, or did the team keep glancing in our direction all third period?"
She'd noticed that too. It started after Will and August spotted her and clearly teased Killian on the way back to the bench after his second goal.
Knowing those two, they probably pointed me out to the whole team.
Emma looked up and noticed Elsa was looking at her expectantly. "I- uh," she couldn't think of a single lie to cover.
"And Killian Jones threw that hat at you… and kept winking at our corner," Elsa said, eyebrows raised high and her lips curled into a small smile, "Are you hooking up with Captain Hook, Emma?"
"What?" Emma's face burned hotter and Elsa's eyebrows furrowed with concern.
"If you don't want to tell me, it's fine." Elsa shrugged. "But, I'm your friend, you can tell me anything."
"I -" Emma started, but was suddenly unsure of how to explain what was going on between her and Killian. Technically they weren't dating - yet.
"Well, you weren't imagining things," Emma finally managed; fully aware that did nothing to answer Elsa's questions.
"So he was winking at you?" Elsa asked. "He has quite the reputation, what are you getting yourself into?"
Emma nodded, "So I may have run into Killian a month ago at Granny's rink."
"WHAT?" Elsa shouted, "A month - a month? - and you never told me?"
"It's -" Emma was still trying to decide how to put their relationship into words. She sighed, "It's complicated."
"Well you'd better start talking," Elsa gripped her arm, "Because if not…"
She left the threat open-ended, and Emma didn't need her to finish, "Alright, alright." She fidgeted under her gaze, "I swear I'm not trying to be cryptic." Ok, so maybe she was trying to be cryptic, but this new feeling of hope in a guy was a little fragile in her mind. She didn't want to overthink it by trying to define it for Elsa. She'd try to keep it as simple as possible.
They arrived at Elsa' car, and she leaned against it with her brow raised in question.
"So after our home opener - you know, when I stormed out of the locker room?" Elsa nodded. "Well, I went right to Granny's to shoot some pucks around and blow off some steam. He kind of showed up while I was there."
"At Granny's?" Elsa sounded just as confused as Emma felt when he'd first showed up. "But, Granny's is tiny."
"I know!" Emma was sure this would take forever to explain at this rate and she really wanted to go find Killian - she kept telling herself her need to see him had nothing to do with kissing him senseless. "Turns out he donates money to her youth programs."
Elsa was about to ask something but Emma waved her off, "Just let me say it and then you can ask questions." She nodded, so Emma continued, "We played at Granny's rink a few times and then he asked me to meet him at a bar for trivia night with his friends." Elsa bit her lip, obviously holding in a question. "He asked me out after and I -" I was an idiot. "- I turned him down and avoided him for a couple weeks. Then he tracked me down a couple of days ago and I gave him some incentive to score in the game."
"Can I ask questions now?" Elsa asked, bouncing around on the balls of her feet. Emma nodded, "Why'd you turn him down?"
She was expecting a multitude of questions, and figured that one would come eventually, but she was hoping it wouldn't be the first. "You know his reputation," she shrugged - optimistic that may be enough.
"I wouldn't think that would stop you," Elsa mused, "Hit it and quit it is kinda your motto, Emma."
"Yeah, I know." Emma sighed and leaned against the car beside her friend, "But he didn't want that. He - well, he wanted to really date me."
"So you ran," Elsa finished for her.
"Yeah."
"But he hasn't given up on you," Elsa pondered for a moment before asking, "What was the incentive you gave him?"
"Um," Emma felt her face burn red again, "I thought I would help him end his slump. So, I - uh - kind of made a deal that he could have that date when he finally scored a goal."
"He got a hat trick!" Elsa clapped excitedly, "Oh my gosh, that totally explains why he was so intense in the game."
Emma felt like she was going to combust she was blushing so bad, "Well, not necessarily -"
"Oh shut it, we both know that's why," Elsa smiled and nudged Emma's shoulder with her own, "So, do you like him? I've got to admit, I haven't seen you smile this much in - well, ever, actually."
"I do like him," Emma felt a smile spread, "He's nothing like his reputation would lead you to believe. I think he built up that bad-boy persona to protect the real him from the world."
"Well you're one to know," Elsa gave her a knowing look before switching gears. "So when do I get to meet him?"
"I don't know," Emma grinned, "I don't even know when the date is going to happen."
She felt her phone buzz in her pocket and apologetically pulled it out to glance at the text.
K: I look forward to our future rendezvous, Swan...
A smile spread across her face and Emma could sense Elsa's eyes on her goofy grin.
"It's him, isn't it?" Elsa gripped her arm, "I can tell from your face."
"Huh?" She looked up to find Elsa's crystal blue eyes dancing with mirth. She nodded her head and bent to type a response to him.
E: Will you be able to meet me before I head home?
"Go find him," Elsa shoved her playfully away. "Now I know why we arrived separately."
"That's not -" Emma started only to be cut off.
"Oh please.. Go congratulate him on an amazing game." Elsa gave her a hug, "And tell him I expect to meet him… soon."
"Thanks again for coming with me, Elsa."
"I will happily use Captain Hook's tickets whenever you would like to take me," Elsa grinned, "See you at practice."
Emma mumbled a goodbye as she looked at his latest text.
K: I'll be stuck for at least another 30 minutes. The press wants to talk to the man of the hour ;)
She walked idly away from Elsa concentrating on his message. It was getting late, but she was excited for Killian and wanted to celebrate. There was no harm in hanging around to see him.
E: I can wait 30.
K: Meet me at the Bobby Orr statue?
She reversed direction, walking against the crowd of fans still leaving the arena. She managed to avoid bumping into people as she jotted out a quick reply.
E: See you soon.
Streams of happy fans rolled down Causeway Street, meandering into bars or down into the train station to head home. The air had turned colder and she pulled her jacket tighter as she leaned against the Orr monument. It was the perfect spot to people watch, easy to pick out tourists taking selfies in front of the statue and the drunken townies yelling and making a scene stumbling across the street.
She hopped up on the ledge and dug her hands into her pockets. As she waited, her mind wandered. It was hard not to be excited for Killian's breakout game. She knew firsthand how hard he worked and what a relief it was when a slump ended. It was a bit surreal waiting here for him. Watching him play she couldn't deny the joy that came over her each time he'd scored and looked over for her reaction. She gnawed on her lip and imagined this as a regular routine. Sharing his excitement during games was something she could get used to. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to allow him behind her walls?
Killian basked in the attention around his locker following the game. He'd had barely enough time to get out of his shoulder pads and loosen his skates before the reporters were crowding around, all wanting a quote. It was nice to be interviewed about scoring goals rather than his post-injury slump, but he wanted to get out of there and track down Emma.
Emma.
He hadn't had much time to send her a message, but was thrilled to know she would wait until the media circus had died down.
He finished up his last interview and ushered the few straggling reporters away from his locker so he could hit the shower and get out of here as soon as possible.
"Bloody hell, mate," Will approached after the reporters finally dispersed, "Aintcha ever gonna stop smiling like that? It's a bit creepy, really."
Killian ignored Will's jibe. There was no way he'd talk about this with him and curse his opportunity with Emma. Granted he was probably being a bit too superstitious but he wasn't taking any chances with her and the fragile ground he stood on.
I don't want to chase her off again.
"Thanks for the assists on the hat trick tonight, Scarlet," he slapped him on the back, hoping the deflection would suffice in changing the subject.
August walked out of the showers and to his neighboring locker. "Are you going to tell us what the bet was, Jones?"
Of course Booth would ask that.
"I'd really rather not," he sighed, "I need to get showered and out of here."
Will side-eyed him, "Why're you in such a rush?"
"Because Emma is waiting for him," August shoved Killian playfully, "I'm guessing whatever happened between the two of you has been rectified?"
It's times like these I bloody hate how well he knows me.
"I really don't want to jinx it, mates," he pleaded.
"Alright, alright," Will patted him on the back, "Go get your shower and get out of here, Jones."
You don't have to tell me twice.
"Tell Emma we'll be at her next game," August ruffled his hair as he headed to the shower.
He cleaned up quickly and ducked out of the locker room with his head down, successfully avoiding any further delay.
There was an extra spring to his step when he caught a glimpse of her blonde hair and red leather jacket perched on the base of the Orr landmark.
"Lady Swan," he bowed with a little flourish and stuck out his elbow for her to grab. "I know the perfect spot to grab a celebratory drink." He gestured back towards the Garden.
"Congratulations on a great game, Captain," Emma hopped down, grabbed his arm and followed his lead; he felt his heart rate quicken at her simple touch.
They strolled along with her pressed close against his side. It was taking every bit of his control to not pin her against the nearest surface and claim his reward.
She has to make the first move - he reminded himself - Good form, and all that.
"Speaking of captain," he side-eyed her with an amused grin, "Just whose name is on the back of that jersey?" He tugged the hem where it hung below her jacket.
The immediate blush that spread across her cheeks was all the answer he needed. "My, my, Swan. I had no idea you were such a fan."
He nudged her gently with his elbow and she responded with a smack to the chest, "Shut up, it was the only jersey I had with an active Bruins player."
He chuckled and bumped shoulders with her to tease. She appeared to be in as good a mood as he was and Killian heaved a sigh of relief that any lingering awkwardness seemed to be gone. He steered her towards the secure garage beneath the building where his car was safely ensconced. As they entered the players parking he could see her eyes widen as they walked among the rows of cars. "One of the perks of being a pro, " he said.
"Well I'm a pro, and we don't get anything like private parking spots," she waved at the array of expensive vehicles. "We're lucky if we get equipment and sticks."
They stopped at his black BMW, and he moved to open the passenger door for her.
"The blatant disregard for women's sports is a bloody shame, Swan." He couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself as he brushed her hair behind her shoulder. "The boys and I can't wait to see your next game."
Emma turned toward him, "You guys want to come to one of my games?"
"I love watching you play, Swan." He gestured for her to get in the car, "You have a way of handling your -" he licked his lower lip and leaned in close to murmur against the shell of her ear, "- stick that is incomparable."
She stood her ground - ignoring his invitation into the car - and placed her hands against his chest, applying just enough pressure to keep him from crowding any closer. "I thought you were a gentleman, Jones," she teased.
"Oh, but I am, love," he took a step back, leaving her some space, "But I prefer dashing rapscallion." She scoffed and rolled her eyes, so he tried another alternative, "Scoundrel?"
"You're something alright," she said softly before tugging on his collar. He breathed in the scent of her and wrapped his hands around her waist to pull her closer. He was still buzzing from the adrenaline of the game and fought the urge to press her against the side of the car. He'd been anticipating this kiss all night, so when she turned her head at the last moment and brushed her lips against his cheek, he couldn't hide the look of disappointment on his face.
She pulled back and smirked.
"That was," he pressed his forehead against hers.
"Both a reward for your goal, and punishment for your penalty," she patted his cheek playfully. "I mean, we did agree to a kiss, just not where."
He chased her lips a bit, but ended up brushing her nose with his own before a loud grumble from his belly forced him to pull back.
"Was that your stomach?" Emma teased and poked at his midsection. "We'd better get some food in you."
"Aye," he grinned, held the passenger door for her and tried his best not to stare at her arse as she climbed in.
Food, concentrate on eating FOOD, not Emma.
It was a quick ride to the North End where Killian knew Ray's place stayed open till midnight. They'd been ushered in through the back door to the room set aside for the players after games. He was relieved to see that they had the room to themselves. Once seated a waiter brought over several plates of appetizers and took their drink order.
They toasted the end of his slump and discussed the finer points of the game. Killian was impressed with her assessment of their forecheck and chuckled to himself when she complained about Will's lazy neutral zone play. Hours were spent with coaches going over film of their games, but Emma's observations were spot on. Admittedly it was much more enjoyable hearing criticism from her lovely lips.
That kissable mouth captured his attention and he felt a warm heaviness settle over his frame. He was finding it difficult to keep track of what they were talking about and tried to pick up where he'd left off in the conversation. Her eyes narrowed at him, and he hoped that it wasn't too obvious how distracted he was. As much as he hated to do it, he couldn't fight the post game letdown much longer and it was late enough to warrant wrapping up their evening..
"So, you didn't drive to the game did you?" he asked while dipping his fried calamari in marinara sauce. He had to concentrate on not yawning.
"Nope, took the T," Emma broke off a bit of garlic bread and popped it in her mouth while she eyed his weary state.
"So," he glanced at his phone and checked the time as he attempted to mask another yawn, "you're at my mercy to deliver you home."
He wanted nothing more than to freeze this moment in time where he was still riding his high from the game but also enjoying the company of a relaxed looking Emma Swan. He stretched his legs beneath the table, leaning back in his chair. He couldn't help but follow the path of her fingers as they tore more garlic bread from the small loaf and raised it up to her mouth. She ran her eyes over his slouching form and he could tell that he wasn't hiding his drowsiness very well.
As she glanced back up at his eyes, he was horrified to find himself fighting a sudden wave of fatigue. "Bloody hell, this is not how I envisioned celebrating."
"You're crashing, Jones." Emma was quick to notice his failed attempt to hide another yawn. Of course she'd know the kind of energy drain playing in a hockey game had. There was no masking how quickly he was waning.
"Swan, I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I didn't escort you home." He wanted to grasp her hand and sooth away the look of concern on her face. "I'd hate to think of you riding the T alone this late."
Emma frowned slightly, "Well, you appear to be fading fast." She shifted in her seat, "I shouldn't be keeping you out this late."
"Well unless you'd like to crash at my place, we'll have to get you headed home soon."
"Ok," she said pragmatically. "How far of a drive is it?"
Killian tilted his head to the side and tried to make reason of what she had said.
I must be more tired than I thought, because now I'm hearing things.
"I'm sorry, love, I'm afraid I'm a bit slow at the moment. Come again?"
"Ok, we'll go back to your place," she pushed back from the table and shrugged into her jacket while his mind was trying to catch-up.
She's actually agreeing to come home with me?
"I'm not going to be responsible for you falling asleep behind the wheel because you're being chivalrous," she explained as she pulled him from his own chair, "Come on, Captain."
"I live around the corner from the arena," he admitted while grabbing his own jacket. "Just a quick five minute ride."
"Let's get your sleepy ass home then."
He considered her standing next to him - relaxed and at ease with her Bruins jersey hanging long enough beneath her jacket to almost pass for a mini-dress. "Can't wait to get me all alone, hmm Swan?"
"Maybe it's part of your reward for the hat trick tonight."
The sultry tone of voice got him moving, mentioning to the waiter to put their meal on his running tab.
Emma had just settled into the plush leather seat, getting her bearings on where they were headed before Killian was pulling up to a brick-faced building. "You weren't kidding about around the corner."
"I like to stick close to home." He put the car in park and turned off the ignition. "Most of my teammates live in the North End. It's just easier. On nice days I walk or bike to the arena."
He hopped out and reached for the handle just as she opened her door. "Bad form, Swan," he tsked as he helped her out of the car, "you're depriving me of my gentleman courtesies."
She rolled her eyes as he closed the door, "You're tired and I can get out of a car just fine on my own."
He chuckled as he led her up the steps to his door. She took a minute to assess how she found herself standing on his front step; about to go into his house. Admittedly she was both excited and nervous. When she saw how tired he was at the bar, she knew she couldn't let him take her all the way home. She would never forgive herself if something happened to him on the drive back to his place. Without her company to occupy him, he would be sure to doze off behind the wheel. She also knew arguing with him about riding the T would be pointless - because he would have the same fears about her.
"Welcome to my humble abode, love," he said with a hand flourish as he turned on the foyer lights.
She walked in and set her purse on the table next to where he'd tossed his keys. The entryway had stairs on the right leading to the second level, but to the left it opened into a modern living room with a large sectional surrounding a square coffee table and a TV bigger than Emma's car. She wandered down to explore what he had propped along the top of a bookshelf. There were a few pucks marking landmarks in his hockey career. She was bending to look closer at what appeared to be a family photo when she heard him approach.
She turned around and found him right behind her, shoes already off and a pair of bottled waters in his hands. His hair was tousled in the 'just out of the shower look' - her fingers itched to run through it. His drowsy grin and socked feet made him look adorable. He gestured toward the couch and she headed in that direction. Her fingers brushed against his and the air between them crackled with tension after taking the proffered drink from his hand. She settled on the couch and he slid in next to her.
I can't believe I ran from this.
Killian sighed and reached down to press a button, raising his feet up to recline. He arched an eyebrow at her and lifted his arm to rest along the back of the couch. It was all the invitation Emma needed. She nestled alongside him, toed off her shoes, and propped her feet next to his. Sprawled out, she relaxed back into the couch. The view of the harbor was impressive; the boat lights reflected off the water and the large wall of windows made for a romantic panoramic landscape just outside his balcony. His hand slid down to drape along her shoulder, pulling her closer to him.
"You know Swan," his voice sounded lower and his accent stronger in his tired state. "You have to take some of the credit for getting me out of my slump."
She snorted derisively. "Unlikely Jones."
"No," he toyed with a lock of her hair, sending a shiver down her spine with every gentle tug. "You truly have an eye for the game and your critiques during our ice sessions were very helpful."
She'd like to say that his compliments made her blush with pride, but her face was already flushed and hockey was the last thing on her mind at the moment. His sleepy voice was doing things to her, and being tucked against his warm body had her heart pounding.
He looked down at her, captured her gaze and tugged on the sleeve of her hockey jersey. Softly he brushed his nose along her neck, breathing in deeply. "I'd really like to kiss you, Emma," he whispered into her skin.
The adorable way he phrased it had her mind screaming- god, yes!-but she tried to play it cool, to not simply jump on him and yank his sweatshirt over his head. Much as she'd love to ravish him, he had just played a hockey game. The poor man must be tired. She turned and leaned in, not stripping his top off, but instead, slipping her hand beneath the hem to brush up his abdomen. His skin was warm beneath her fingers and her breath caught in anticipation. "Then why don't you?" she asked.
His heart was pounding in his chest as her fingers caressed the hair that lined his stomach. He thumbed at her chin, tilting her up at just the right angle to slant his mouth over hers. Unlike their kiss in the locker room, this was slower, more gentle; he was in no rush and wanted to savor her.
As his lips teased hers, nipping and drawing them along his, her hand snaked up higher beneath his sweatshirt. His heart raced in anticipation of where her hands may wander next.
He resisted the urge to pull her on top of him as her mouth became more insistent against his. As she leaned closer something hard jabbed into his newly healed ribs and he couldn't hold back the wince of pain.
"Shit! Did I hurt you?" Emma pulled her arm free from beneath his shirt and leaned away from him.
Killian reached between them, cursing his tender ribs and pulled the remote control for his television from between the cushions. "No love, no harm done," he chuckled. "Never can keep track of this bloody thing."
Emma glanced at his television, her eyes narrowed in on the clock on the cable box, "Just in time to catch the game highlights." She grabbed the remote from his hand and powered the television on. "Don't tell me you don't watch your own press."
He bent to nuzzle along the line of her neck, "You're much more entertaining at the moment."
She wiggled in closer to his warmth turning to catch a glimpse of the sports news. Killian stroked the hair back from her cheek and pressed another kiss to her lips. He could get used to this post-game snuggling if Emma would be amenable to it.
"Killian," she giggled as she pulled away, "we'll miss the game coverage."
He ignored her and pressed a line of kisses down to her collarbone. His body felt heavy, weighted down and relaxed, willingly sinking into the couch and pulling Emma closer. He breathed in the scent of her while his eyes drifted closed and he nibbled at the side of her neck. She shifted against him and he cracked open an eye to catch her peering at the television.
He paused his nuzzling. "You're bound and determined to watch that aren't you?"
"Shhh," she pressed her fingers against his mouth and pillowed her head on his chest to face the TV, "They're about to show your locker room interview!"
Killian groaned and slumped back onto the cushions. Even though he was frustrated in his attempts to distract her from the sports news, he couldn't help but smile at the fact that she wanted to see the replay of his hat trick.
"Would you like some popcorn to make your viewing experience more pleasurable?"
Emma's eyes twinkled as she slid her hand back up beneath his sweatshirt. He tried to keep from shrinking away from her tickling fingers.
"You fit the bill for making the viewing pleasurable." She patted his stomach and turned her attention back to the television. He settled back and tried not to cringe in embarrassment when his own face appeared on the screen sporting sweaty hair sticking up in all directions. Instead, he tried to distract himself by stroking Emma's hair where it trailed down her shoulder. It was gesture meant to sooth her, but he found his own eyelids drooping closed. He half listened to the droning of the commentators and breathed in deeply trying to hide the yawn that threatened to overtake him. He struggled to keep his head from bobbing and to not nod off on Emma, but it was a losing battle.
Emma sighed and settled in closer. As he drifted in between consciousness and sleep, he couldn't help but reflect on how much more enjoyable cuddles with Emma was to banging some nameless puck-bunny he picked up at the bar. As he drifted off blanketed by his Swan, it wasn't hard to envision this scenario after every game.
Swimming up from a deep sleep, Killian realized Emma was wrapped around him on the couch. The first hints of pale sunlight filtered in through the large bay window and he squinted over at the cable box to see what time it was.
Shit I have to be at practice soon.
He gently tried to extricate himself from the blanket that was Emma Swan. He didn't want to disturb her sleep. She mumbled and tried to grip him tighter. It appeared as though he'd have no choice in the matter.
"Emma, love," He tried to sit up, "you've got to wake up."
She grumbled and raised her head, squinting at him. "What time is it?"
"6ish," he helped prop her up at the same time as straightening the reclined couch. "I've got to get to morning skate and check in with the team doc."
Emma yawned and stretched her arms above her head. He smiled at the way her tousled hair tangled in her hands as she fought to pull it back into a ponytail. A crease lined her cheek from his sweatshirt and he couldn't resist rubbing his thumb over it.
"You've got quite the mane there, Swan." He couldn't help but tease as she finally managed to reign it in.
"I need caffeine if I'm going to deal with you this early," she grumbled at him as a wide grin spread across his face, "Can you give me a lift home on your way to the rink?"
"It would be bad form if I didn't"
He opened the passenger door for her and once again offered his elbow.
"You really don't have to walk me the five steps to my door, you know," she shook her head but took his arm, "I'm a big girl."
"Well, it wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to just drop you on the curb, love." He chuckled as he placed his warm hand over hers and started towards the first step, "And it is - like you said - only five steps."
They came to a stop and she rummaged in her bag for her keys. Killian swayed into her personal space and appeared reluctant to leave her.
"Thank you for coming to my game, Swan," he tucked her an escaped curl behind her ear, his touch lingered across her jaw. "It was excellent incentive to perform at my best and it was an honor seeing your lovely face screaming obscenities at my teammates from behind the glass."
"I'll gladly keep you on your toes whenever you'd like me there, Jones." It was out of her mouth before she had a chance to think.
"Well then," he raised his eyebrows, but Emma was too busy watching his tongue along his lower lip, "you should consider them yours whenever you are free for the game."
She shook her head, "I couldn't -"
"Yes, you could," he took the hand that wasn't holding keys and kissed her knuckles, "I'll let will call know that they're yours."
She really didn't feel right. She just had to protest once more, "But, what if -"
"Swan," he stepped closer and pressed his finger against her lip to stop her, "all of my friends and family are on the ice with me. I've told the team countless times I don't need the tickets, but they insist."
She knew her whole team would be astounded if she tried to talk her way out of free hockey tickets. So she sighed - maybe a little over dramatically - and smiled up at him through her eyelashes. "Thanks, Killian."
"Don't mention it, Emma." He so rarely called her by her first name, the way it rolled off of his tongue was music to her ears. She was struck with the thought of what other things his tongue could be doing.
He had been so careful with his touches all night; and she was tired of it. She pulled on his collar - eliminating what little space remained between their bodies and touched her lips to his.
He paused for just a moment before leaning in to deepen the kiss. The gentle tug of his fingers made her scalp tingle as his hand cradled the back of her head. He surged forward anchoring them against the door. She knew he was talented at throwing his weight around on the ice, but this was a much more enjoyable version of body checking.
"Killian," she gasped as he peppered kisses down the hollow of her throat. "I -" she searched for words as he nibbled his way back up her neck.
He released her reluctantly, "I've got to get to practice."
"I'm starting to think you were put on this planet to drive me crazy, Jones."
His chuckle rumbled from deep in his chest as he dropped his head to her shoulder, "Could be, love." She sighed as he took a step away from her.
"We should do this again," she got up on the tip of her toes and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. "I'll text you."
"I look forward to hearing from you," he picked her hand up and placed another chaste kiss to her knuckles. "Until then, Emma."
He backed down the steps and she smiled like an idiot the whole time she fumbled with her keys.
Now, standing alone in her apartment it suddenly hit her how comfortable she was with him. She had been worried that things between them may be weird - especially after her poor reaction all those weeks ago. But conversation flowed easily, even without the ice under their feet.
Maybe things could work out with him.
