I was surprised when Mike suggested that we have dinner at his apartment. I was very surprised when he said that he was cooking. Now I'm in his kitchen, chopping vegetables and drinking a light white wine.
"This is delicious" I tell him when I take another sip.
"It's one of my favourites. I found it when I was in Napa and now I have to keep it stocked."
I smile as I watch him cook. It's not his first time in a kitchen cooking. In fact, he is slicing the chicken expertly as he debones it and takes off the skin. It seems that he still eats healthy. Of course, looking at him you can tell that he eats healthy and spends a lot of time in his gym doing more than training others.
"Yes?" he says.
I realize that he's caught me staring and I know that I'm turning red.
"Nothing" I say and become very, very interested in the vegetables that I'm chopping.
"Here" Mike says as he steps behind me. "Like this" he continues as the takes the knife in one hand and the carrot in the other.
I feel his hard body pressing against the back of mine as he expertly chops the carrot exactly as he wants it.
As an experiment, I lean back and press against him slightly. I feel the length of his body everywhere it is touching mine and then the shiver that goes through me. Hmmm.
"Ok?" I hear and feel Mike say in my ear.
I turn my head so that I can see him but say nothing. Mike leans in and takes my lips with his own. It's the first time he's kissed me since the 'incident' and I feel some relief with it. He sips lightly at my lips and softly explores them with his own.
"Ok?" he asks again.
I smile and say "ok."
Mike goes back to the chicken and I start chopping the carrots as he showed me although nowhere near as good as he did it. When I'm done, I sit at his breakfast bar with my wine and watch him put our dinner together. He actually makes a satay sauce from scratch.
"Where did you learn to cook?" I ask.
"When I played in juniors, I lived with a billet family and they always did the cooking; but, when I went to the AHL, I roomed with a few other guys. I was either going to learn to cook or eat restaurant food for every meal. I decided to learn how to cook."
"I guess it doesn't hurt when trying to woo a woman."
"Is that what I'm trying to do Mac? Woo you?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
He chuckles low as he places our dinner in the serving dishes he has ready. I help him bring out the dishes to the dining room and we sit.
"Oh my God Mike. This is so good; really, really good."
"Does that mean you're woo'd?"
I have to laugh and reply "I'll let you know after I'm done."
As we eat, we talk about small things like our experiences playing, our shared love of chocolate and Seth McFarlane.
"Ted was awesome but I still love the Family Guy best" I tell him.
"Yeah, it's funny but Ted was the best."
We continue to debate movies and then music where our taste diverges.
"No. Seriously Mike. Country music? That definitely won't woo me."
"You haven't listened to good country. It isn't all twangy you know. There is some really great country."
This starts another debate which continues as we clean up the dishes. It's really comfortable being with Mike. He is a really confident and easy going guy. There are pockets of humour and occasionally sharp sarcasm. The evening flies by and we're sitting on the sofa alternating between a few games; both hockey and baseball. The Pirates are going far this year and the city is definitely buzzing with it.
"The Blue Jays? How can you possibly cheer for the Blue Jays? I mean, they need all the cheering they can get but they really, really suck Mac."
"They had a tough season with injuries. Wait until next year and you'll see them in the post season too."
"I'd guess that you also like the Raptors."
I'm not a huge basketball fan but I play along.
"Of course I do" I respond.
"Ok, that's it. The relationship is doomed. How can you possibly not be a Miami fan? Seriously? King James?"
I simply shrug which seems to be a signal for war. I watch the battle come into his eyes and decide to pounce first hoping that he's ticklish. When he immediately cries out and tries to move away, I know that I have my answer. Mike is very ticklish.
He tries to back up to the other end of the couch but I follow him until I'm straddling him and we're both laughing like crazy. One minute we're laughing and then the next Mike's lips are attacking mine. He sits up so that I can wrap my legs around him and pull him flush against me. The kiss intensifies quickly and soon our tongues are dueling. Mike's fingers dig into each of my hips and then cup my ass. I love exploring the muscles of his biceps, shoulders and neck. When his hands find their way under my shirt and up my back, I moan into his mouth. He expertly unhooks my bra and then slides his hands over my waist until his thumbs can slip under my bra and over my nipples. When he flicks, I feel them pebble. I can also feel his errection grow and press against me. Instinctively, I grind against him and Mike rips his lips from mine and trails down my jaw to feast on my neck.
He pulls at the hem of my shirt and I lean back so that he can pull it completely over my head. He takes my bra too. Within seconds, he's pulled me up so that my breasts are in line with his lips. He kisses around and then takes the nipple into his mouth. While his tongue runs around and around, my hips move again against him where I feel his errection growing larger. While his lips and tongue work on one nipple, he takes the other between his thumb and finger applying pressure. I feel it directly between my legs.
I want to feel his hard body against me with nothing between us so I lean back again. When Mike looks at me questioning, I grab the hem of his shirt and pull it up. He helps me until it's off and I can throw it to the floor to join mine. We grin at each other for a moment before diving after each other's lips again. This time Mike pushes me back until I'm lying on the sofa and he settles himself between my legs. Even through his jeans and mine, I can feel how hard he is pushing against me and I shift to feel it rub the right spot.
Mike shifts slightly and runs his hand down my side, over my waist and stop at my jeans. He unsnaps and unzips before dipping his fingers inside my jeans and panties. His fingers seek and don't stop until they find their goal. His middle finger slips between my folds and finds how wet I am already. I moan when he dips that finger inside of me and then again when another finger joins it. He pumps a few times before slipping his wet fingers up and over my clit. As he flicks and rubs, my hips move with him, pushing against his hand. But his hand isn't enough. I want, I need, to feel Sid deep inside of me.
What the fuck?!
Mike senses the moment I stiffen up. He pulls his hand out of my pants and then back to look at me.
"Too far?" he asks.
I shake my head and say "no."
Why I didn't say yes will haunt me, I'm sure. At that moment, at that very moment, I couldn't lie to Mike. It would have been kinder to lie. Finally, I gather my courage and look him in the eye. I see the exact moment when he knows what's going on. I can only imagine how guilty I look because I know how guilty I feel.
Mike sits back at the end of the sofa and leaves me to grab my shirt to put on then move to the other end of the sofa. What do I say? I have no idea. He looks disappointed and pissed at the same time. He deserves to be. I have no idea what to say.
"I knew it. I tried to ignore it, I tried to accept that it was just that one moment and it was Crosby, but I knew it."
The venom in his voice is raw and harsh. I deserve it.
"It isn't, wasn't, intentional Mike. I'm so sorry."
"You think that makes it better? 'It isn't intentional.' I have my fingers inside of you, my tongue in your mouth and your thinking of him!"
"It isn't like that Mike. I don't think of Sid that way. He's a friend, becoming a good friend, and I would never think of him that way."
"Oh, so you only think of him that way when I have my tongue in your mouth and my fingers in your pussy!"
This is getting out of control. I know he has a right to be mad but it's getting out of control and I don't know what to say or do. I simply sit still.
"You know, Mac, I expect the players to get all of the attention and the praise. That's the way it works. The girls are always all over the guys when we go out and ignore the rest of us. I get it but I thought that you were different."
"Mike, I don't know what to say. I really don't. I can't explain it."
Shouldn't I be able to handle this better?
"Save it Mac. Just get out. Let's just call this over."
He looks less angry at least. There's no longer a seething rage but he's still pissed. I can't say that I blame him so I gather my bra and purse, put on my shoes and jacket and then look back at Mike.
"I'm sorry" I say softly and then leave.
When I'm finally in my car, I let out the huge breath that I've been holding and lean my head against the steering wheel. What the hell does this mean? I'm scared to examine that question too closely because I think I know what it means. I'm falling for Sidney Crosby.
For the past week, there has been something really weird going on. Mike and Mac aren't doing their usual chatting and laughing at practice. In fact, Mac isn't at the bench like she usually is when we're on the ice. I haven't even seen her this morning. Maybe she's been busy planning the next road trip. We're heading to western Canada to play Vancouver, Calgary, Edmonton and Winnipeg. We'll be gone for seven days which is the longest that I've been away from Lizzy. I'm worried about it, really worried; so much so that I thought about having my parents and Lizzy travel with me. When I talked to mom and dad, they bought up that it won't be my first long trip away from her. We should just do it and get the first one over with before the next one comes up.
After practice, we all drive to the airport and get on the plane to Vancouver. It's a seven hour flight so we're all packed with books to read, movies and TV shows and, of course, video games. They serve lunch as soon as we're in the air. Most guys go to sleep after they eat. Looking around the plane, almost all of the guys are asleep. Of course my eyes are drawn to the back of the plane where I see Mac on her iPad. Dan and the assistants are all plugged into their laptops watching game video to prepare for this trip. The equipment guys, trainers and Mike are all asleep. I take advantage of the moment to talk to Mac.
"Hi" I say and sit down next to her.
"Hi" she says but doesn't look up from her iPad.
"What's going on Mac?"
"What do you mean?" she still doesn't look at me.
"For the past week, you and Mike have been very weird and you and I have barely had a conversation. So what's going on?"
She doesn't move for the longest time. Finally she sighs, switches off her iPad and turns to me.
"Mike and I aren't seeing each other anymore."
I'm stunned. What does she mean that they aren't seeing each other?
"What happened?" I ask before I can think. I hope I'm not prying.
"It just wasn't going to work Sid. We tried but" and she trails off with a shrug of her shoulder.
Instinctively, I take her hand in mine and say "I'm sorry."
I look down at our entwined fingers and know that I'm a liar. I'm not sorry that they aren't dating any more. She seems hurt by it, which I would never want, but it's almost a relief that Mac and Mike aren't seeing each other. I push that aside. It's weird since I don't think of her 'that' way.
When I glance up to meet Mac's eyes, I see that they are wet. She's really upset over it. I didn't realize that they were that close so quickly. Again, instinctively, I bring her hand my lips and kiss it softly.
"I'm sorry" I say again softly.
Mac purses her lips, nods and then pulls her hand away from mine. There's a palpable and sudden tension between us that I haven't felt, ever, with Mac. Maybe I'm stepping over the line. Maybe we aren't that close yet. I thought that we were, are.
"Did I do something Mac?"
She only shakes her head.
"Can I do anything to help?" I ask.
Again, she only shakes her head.
"Ok" I start. "I'll leave you alone."
Before I can stand, Mac places a hand on my thigh and says "wait."
I sit back in my chair and Mac quickly moves her hand away. I wait for her to speak.
"I'm sorry Sid. It's just" she pauses. "It's just really new. I know we weren't together long but he's a great guy."
"If he's a great guy, and I agree, then why did you guys break up?"
"We weren't really together long enough to break up Sid. I agree that he's a great guy but it wasn't going to work. That's it."
I know that's not 'it.' There's much more to it but I don't push right now. This connection that we share has me too in tuned with Mac to believe that she's telling me everything. It also tells me that I should stop, for the time being.
I don't want to push so I take her hand again, briefly, and say "ok. You know that you can talk to me, right?"
Mac nods but doesn't look at me so I leave her and go back to my seat.
I lay back and try to sleep but it eludes me. My mind keeps replaying the short conversation we just had and something doesn't make sense. She simply said that it wasn't going to work and I would leave it there if it wasn't for a feeling. I have a feeling that there's more to it than that and I can't help but wonder why she wouldn't tell me more. She doesn't have to of course but I thought we were growing closer and becoming good friends. I've never had a woman friend before so maybe she wouldn't talk about this kind of thing with me. There's just something there that I can't let go.
Eventually I do fall asleep. I wake up and see that the lights have been turned up. We're about ninety minutes from landing and they're bringing around the menu for dinner. I want to talk to Mac again but everyone is awake now and I don't want to be obvious about it.
The next hour goes by very quickly, we land and are on our way to the hotel. We are all going our separate ways for dinner tonight and Duper and I have decided to stay in. After dinner, I know that I have to talk to Mac. For one of the very few times I'm happy to be who I am because the front desk gives me Mac's room number. I leave Dupe looking at video his kids sent him saying goodnight. With the time change he couldn't talk to them before bed.
Standing in front of Mac's door I begin to second guess myself. Maybe I should just leave her alone. Then again, it has to be hard to be in a city where you don't have family or friends and you're trying to do a job that you've never done before. She needs support and maybe she'll let me do that for her. Before I can change my mind, I knock on the door.
Shortly after, the door opens and Mac is in yoga pants and a Pens sweatshirt. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, as usual, and she has no make-up on. She looks very young and very lonely.
"Can I come in?" I ask.
She moves out of the way so that I can enter the room. The TV is on to SportsCentre and they're talking about our road trip to western Canada. Of course they're reliving the 2010 Olympics and the gold medal game. I tune that out and look around the room. Mac has her laptop set up on the table with notes strewn around it. She gestures to one of the chairs so I sit down. She sits in the chair facing mine.
I look at her, really look at her, and she looks tired; tired and lonely. I'm struck with the need to gather her into my arms and make it all go away. Of course I don't even know what 'all' is that I'd be fighting.
"Mac" I start softly. "Something is wrong; I can see that something is wrong. Let me help. You look like you could use a friend."
"It's not something I really want to get into Sid."
"You may not want to but do you need to?"
"Maybe" is all she says so I wait her out. "I won't talk about the details but maybe I do need to talk about it. Sid, it was ugly. It's no one's fault, and I certainly don't blame Mike, but it got ugly."
My concern turns to worry, worry to anxiety and anxiety builds slowly to rage.
"How ugly Mac?" She only shrugs so I say slowly, carefully "how ugly?"
Even though I know Mike, I've known him for years, I have horrible thoughts going through my head about what might have happened or what he might of done to Mac. I watch as she slowly realizes what I'm thinking.
"Oh God no Sid. He didn't touch me, at least not in the way that you're worrying about, really."
I stare at Mac and search for the truth in her eyes. Whatever the reason, I see that she's telling me the truth. Whatever happened or didn't happen, Mike didn't do anything that I'd want him to be dead over.
"Ok" I say. I can't help myself so I ask "what happened that made it ugly?"
"Sid, he just accused me of something and then it spiraled downward from there. He wasn't wrong and I was entirely to blame."
It hits me then. What's the one thing that would piss off another guy?
"It was about me" I say.
Mac looks stunned for a moment and then simply nods her head.
"He said that he was fine and that he understood. He didn't like it but he understood that it didn't mean anything, right?"
Mac's expression changes and she looks guilty. Ok, what does she look guilty about?