Then

Rebecca regretted her decision the moment she was in his car. She didn't have much of a choice however, as her ankle was throbbing and the chill had set deep into her bones. It was just so awkward sitting in that passenger seat as the agonizing drive began towards her home. Sidney had asked her if she wanted to go to the doctor or to the hospital but Rebecca knew he was on a time crunch. His flight took off at 3:55, she knew because she'd just prepared the itineraries a few days earlier. She begrudgingly admitted it was a nice gesture, him being so concerned, but she didn't want to get stranded in a waiting room for the next couple hours, not when she had so much to do. Plus she was freezing. Quite literally freezing and she was sure hypothermia would soon set in. So she declined the offer and instructed him on how to get her home.

"You need to take off your clothes."

Rebecca was broken from her thoughts at the sound of Sidney's voice. Her head whipped to look at him and noticed he immediately realized he misspoke. A bright red hue blossomed high on his cheeks. He didn't look at her.

"I, uh, I mean, you're soaked through, I've got something…" he trailed off as his arm extended back and around to the back seat and he began feeling around for something. A few seconds later he came up with a bundle of black fabric. He held it out for Rebecca to take.

"It's a sweatshirt, it's not perfect but it should help." He cast a sideways look in Rebecca's direction, his eyes full of remorse.

She took the bundle from him and mumbled a reluctant thank you.

Too cold to be self conscious, Rebecca peeled off her coat and sweater and tossed the wet garments to the floor of the passenger seat. She wore a sheer white top underneath and worked quickly to pull the sweatshirt over her head seeing that the soaked top was giving off a free show to Sidney. The thing was that getting a coat and a sweater off with a seatbelt on wasn't difficult. Getting a hooded sweatshirt on, was. It wasn't just difficult, it was nearly impossible, especially when one is working quickly to avoid showing off the pink bra that could be clearly seen through the wet white fabric. Rebecca had naively thought that she'd hit rock bottom and that nothing worse could happen.

She was wrong.

With her head stuck in the arm hole, her arm caught between the seatbelt and the hood and the other arm hole tangled around her waist, Rebecca had never felt more foolish or mortified by her predicament.

She was truly the clumsiest, most awkward person to walk the earth and she seemed to keep finding herself in these scenarios in front of Sidney.

"Whoa, what do you have going on over there?" His voice was saturated in amusement. Pulling up to a stoplight, Sidney reached out to tug at the thick material.

"I...I...I don't know," Rebecca said, her voice muffled and filled with frustration.

"Let me help," Sid replied, turning towards her and pulling at the fabric. He wasn't quite sure how she'd gotten so tangled, so quickly. Rebecca wasn't too receptive to the idea of him helping, so she continued her struggle to get untangled. However, her movements, paired with Sid's unwelcome efforts only made things worse. Then it got worser. While that wasn't a word, it could only explain what happened next.

In his attempt to pull at the sweatshirt from a squirming Rebecca, Sid's hand brushed up against her chest and Sid found himself with a palmful of breast and Rebecca's blind squirming made it worse as she arched into his hand while attempting to pull her arm free.

And just like that, he was feeling her up. They'd never even been formally introduced and he was already to second base.

It was only for a split second and Sid pulled his hand away as if he'd been burned just as Rebecca pulled herself free and her head popped out. She hadn't seen what happened but she'd felt it. Boy, had she felt it. She could feel her own face become hot and for a moment their eyes locked. Both shocked by what had happened.

"So-sor-sorry." Sid stuttered, clearly just as embarrassed as she.

Rebecca didn't say anything, she just dumbly looked down at the sweatshirt that lay in a pile on her lap and at the see through top that clung to her like a second skin and was mortified to see that due to the accidental gesture, her nipples were hard and were straining clearly against the fabric. Her eyes flew to Sidney. His eyes were glued to her chest. Then came a honk from the car behind them, as the red light had turned green.

Sidney's eyes were back on the road and his face now wore a worse blush than Rebecca's.

Quickly Rebecca unlatched the seat belt, bent forward and slipped the sweatshirt over her head and around her body. The sweatshirt clearly a few sizes larger than she what she normally wore, swimmed around her. But she didn't care. It was warm and soft and it smelled so good.

They didn't speak for the rest of the drive.

Sid kept his eyes glued to the road. Rebecca had gotten the sweatshirt on safely and had resigned herself to staring out the passenger window and staying silent.

Which was fine by him. He didn't know what was worse, accidentally grabbing her breast or that she caught him staring at her chest. Both were embarrassing, although the breast grabbing wasn't so bad, not that he'd admit it of course.

Try as he might, he couldn't help but sneak a few peeks in her direction. He didn't want to think about the feelings that bubbled up when he saw her drowning in his sweatshirt and he most definitely didn't want to indulge in the urge to pull free the damp hair that lay caught inside the hood. Instead his fingers gripped the steering wheel and he focused on getting her home.

Rebecca lived over a Jewish deli. She'd been there since junior year. It was small and a little run down, but she'd made it cozy and comfortable and the price was just within her budget. The Oakland neighborhood was always buzzing and with school nearby and the Igloo just down the road, she rarely made use of her car that spent most of its time in a student lot paying more rent than she did. The apartment was in a perfect location, however, getting to the apartment led something to be desired. A steep set of stairs around the back of the building was her only entrance and as Sidney pulled around to the alley behind the deli, Rebecca realized it was not very conducive to injured ankles.

Sid noticed the stairs, just as Rebecca was realizing her fate.

"I'll help you up." His voice was soft.

"No, it's ok." She replied.

"They're pretty steep."

"I'll be fine."

Sid heaved a heavy sigh.

"Why wont you let me help you?" he asked, not bothering to mask his annoyance.

"Because I can do it on my own." was her curt reply.

"What if you can't?" Sid pressed.

"It's not your problem." Rebecca shot back.

"You are infuriating, you realize that right?" Sid said, his patience clearly gone.

"And you're an asshole." She wanted to say and a perverted one at that, but she didn't, she couldn't be that mean.

Sid stared, speechless. His mouth agape as he tried to process her words.

He was irritated and insulted. Who did this girl think she was? Here he was trying to help her and she was being nothing more than an ungrateful -

"Do you know why I was standing on that corner?" Rebecca asked, turning in her seat, her eyes narrowed on his. Sid put the Range Rover in park, ready to get her out of his car as quickly as possible, when she spoke again.

"It was because I was being lectured for 20 minutes on how I shouldn't say anything about how you yelled at me the other day. How you screamed at me and said nasty things. How small and stupid you made me feel. I missed my bus because I had to get a lesson on who Sidney Crosby is."

Sid didn't say anything. Rebecca continued.

"I made a wrong turn. I had every right to be there. I got lost and I saw something I shouldn't have seen. But you, you made me feel like I was trespassing or something. You were in the wrong and yet it was me who dreaded coming to work today. I was terrified to see you. Worried about what would happen. And instead of an apology or at least an admission of a misunderstanding, I was informed that instead of you being remorseful for what happened, were only concerned that I would tell someone. Which, by the way, I didn't. Im not that kind of person. I wouldn't do that. But I am a person and I've got feelings and just because you are who you are doesn't mean that your feelings trump everyone elses. So forgive me if I'm not falling all over myself thanking you for giving me a ride and feeling me up after all that's happened."

Rebecca finished her rant and silently congratulated herself for not breaking down in tears, although they were waiting patiently to fall when she'd finally be alone again.

He stayed silent, so Rebecca unbuckled her belt and bent down to gather her things. Her hand was on the handle when he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Rebecca stilled.

"I'm not an asshole. I'm sorry about the other day, I really am. I did remember who you were, afterwards. I went to Claude's office to apologize but you weren't there. I told him what happened, I wasn't trying to get you in trouble. I think Claude sort of missed the point of me being there, but it's not his fault. It's mine. I was embarrassed of what you saw and I was wrong. Very wrong. And I'm trying to make up for it. But things keep happening to make it worse. I'm very sorry about what happened earlier too."

His face was soft and full of remorse and Rebecca felt the flutter reappear in her belly. Flutters that had no business being there.

And she couldn't hold a grudge and she couldn't pretend she didn't melt a little bit at his mini speech.

"Can we just start over?" Sid asked, his voice low as he extended a hand.

Rebecca stared at it and then extended out her hand as well, softly grasping his.

"Hi, I'm Sid," he said, his face friendly and his eyes bright as his hold was gentle on her hand.

"Hi, I'm Rebecca." she replied her voice soft.

"Rebecca," Sid's face grew into a wide smile, "It's nice to meet you."

Now

I haven't seen him since that day in my office. I thought I could handle it. Stay professional, detached. It wasn't supposed to be this hard.

And I chickened out, I had my chance to tell him I was leaving and I couldn't do it. I couldn't say the words, I couldn't even think the words with him there. It had been a while since we'd spoken and I tried to stay calm and cool and collected.

I almost made it.

If he wants to get married fine. If he wants to marry her, whatever. He made his choice, I get it. Every time I get it. I'm not her, I will never be her.

And now I'm done and I dont want to do it anymore. I dont want to house this broken heart any longer.

I manage to avoid him for the next few weeks, I focus on packing and studying for the LSAT. My test is in a few weeks and its been years since I've had to study for anything. I'm a little overwhelmed; working all day then coming home to pack up the past 8 years of my life in Pittsburgh, while studying for the most important test of my life. But I think about my options and my choices and the goals I need to set for myself and I push ahead, ignoring the quiet doubt that fights stubbornly in the back of my mind. The one that tells me I'm doing this for all the wrong reasons.

But I'm not, I tell myself. I am stuck. Correction, I was stuck. And now I'm moving forward, the reasons don't matter.

If packing and studying isn't hard enough at home, I'm swamped at work. Trying to finish up the year and forecast the playoffs is always challenging. Its even harder this year because I'm making notes and setting up for the next person. Trying to make the transition as smooth as possible.

While is why it's after 7 o'clock today and I'm just now leaving work. I'm exhausted. I was up until 3:00 a.m. studying and when I get home its more of the same. But I'm focused I remind myself, only a month or so to go.

I stifle a yawn as I get on the elevator and take it down to the main level. I just have to drop off a few things at the trainer's office. As soon as the elevator doors open I see a flurry of activity. People are rushing past me and for a split second I think I have my days mixed up, is there a game tonight?

I scan the schedule in my head and I know that there isn't, the team doesn't play until Saturday in Philly, I should know because I got tickets for my dad and Molly. Yet, people are passing me, running around like the teams about to hit the ice. Then I see some players and they are dressed, but not in their uniforms but in tuxedos. And then I remember.

It's skates and plates. The yearly fundraiser had completely slipped my mind.

I quickly begin to weave through the people staying focused on getting to the trainers office and then to the exit, without being noticed.

I fail. I haven't gone twenty feet when I hear the thick and heavy accented voice.

"Cooper!"

I feel badly but I pretend not to hear.

"Oopsy!" He shouts across our short distance.

I cringe at the nickname Geno's been calling me for the past five years. It's not mean spirited, I'll be the first to tell you I'm a klutz and from Geno it's endearing. Nevertheless, its still a little embarrassing and not something I wanted yelled across a hall filled with the organizations elite and who's who of the Pittsburgh media.

I stop and turn around to face the tall Russian standing only a few feet from me and filling out a tuxedo rather well. He's wearing a goofy grin as well.

"Hi Geno," I say pleasantly, genuinely happy to see him despite the setting. I'm on edge already, worried I might see Sid or even worse, Katy.

"Thanks for card. I havent seen you since I've been back. I like it a lot." His speech is still halting despite the years and a give him a wide smile. I'd done some last minute scheduling for him after the disappointing loss in Sochi and he'd thanked me with a large fruit basket that had surprised me when it landed at my front door a few days later. In return, I'd sent him a thank you note with my condolences on the early exit.

We chat for a minute or so, just silly chit chat and I know that he will be among those I miss the most when I leave. I also know I will probably never talk to him after I go.

Our conversation is quickly interrupted by the sudden arrival of Maureen Kunitz, whose hands are filled with corsages.

"Geno," she says urgently. She shoots me an apologetic look. "Sorry, Rebecca, it's a madhouse in here. "You need a flower," as she thrusts one in Geno's direction. He stares at it likes its a venus fly trap. "Please put it on, we are way behind."

Geno takes the flower and makes a face.

Maureen turns to me, her face pleasant but pleading. "Can you help us? We are so short handed tonight and I've got about ten more guys I need to get these to. Please Rebecca?"

I like Maureen. She's one of the nicer WAGs that have come through the organization. She's always volunteering for things, which makes sense because she is great at organizing. The Kunitz's are always one of my favorite families to schedule for, super organized and always get their information in way before a deadline. So I know I have to help.

I tell her sure and she hands me about seven corsages to distribute before she takes off in the direction of the locker room. I give Geno a mock serious face and stand up on my tiptoes to pin his rose on his lapel. Once pinned, we say our goodbyes and I set off in search of flowerless players. They are easy to find and quickly my pile of corsages has dwindled to one. It has been actually kind of fun, being a part of all this, even if only for a few minutes. I feel a pang of sadness, knowing that this part of my life is coming to an end. I look down at the flower and for a moment I wish that things had been different. But I can't spend my life wishing and hoping. I see a flash of black at my side and I look up to see if there is a flower on the lapel, so that I can rid myself of this last corsage and get home.

No flower, is the good news. I look up at the person with the empty lapel and there is my bad news.

I try not to look at him for too long. Which is hard because he really is the most handsome person I've ever seen. The tuxedo fits his frame beautifully. He's gotten his hair cut and the way he smells makes me homesick for home that was never mine. He gives me a small smile and I just frown. I scan the crowd looking for Katy. Or really anyone with a flower in their hand who can help get the captain his corsage so we can all be on our way.

No luck.

"Here," I say handing him the white bundle, ready to turn and walk away.

"Wait," he calls and I stop. I should keep walking. i should not turn around.

"Please," his voice is soft but urgent and I should not turn around.

"Rebecca, please."

And I turn around.

His face is earnest, his smile tentative, his eyes large but gentle. He's looking at me like I'm a deer he's stumbled upon in the forest and doesn't want to scare off.

"Will you help me?" he holds up the corsage and gives me the grin. The crooked grin he's famous for when trying to get what he wants. The grin that breaks my resolve and takes me back to that place all those years ago.

I don't reply, but walk towards him and hold out my hand. When he hands me back the corsage, our fingers touch and I pretend I don't feel the electric current race up my arm and punch my chest. I extend my arms, hoping to keep as much distance as possible as my fingers begin to shake and my heart begins to race.

He takes a step closer and then another and then he's officially in my personal space.

And I can't breathe properly.

He's not touching me, but I can feel every inch of him. I inhale, because that's what people do and I let myself remember and forget all at once.

For those few seconds I just let myself...be.

I let my body strum with nearness of him. I let my senses cloud over as my fingers work with the pin and the fabric of his jacket. I know he's looking at me, but I keep my eyes focused on the fabric in front of me. I can feel the heat of his stare and it's taking my strongest will not to look up at him.

I can almost feel the drumming of his heart beat under my fingertips as I smooth out the lapel and make sure his flower is secure. My arms drop to my sides but I don't move my position.

Our height difference puts my gaze at his shoulder and though I shouldn't I peek over at his adam's apple that is bobbing against the smooth pale skin of his throat.

My inability to breathe has my chest heaving and if I just take one small step forward we would collide.

And I could feel. Really feel.

And I would remember.

As if I could forget.

"Becs," his voice is hoarse, strained and suddenly I feel his hand, his fingers reach out and gently grasp my hand.

His fingers, long and strong, wrap around mine and suddenly I'm there again and it's like no time has passed.

My eyes drift shut, letting the memories flood in as I allow myself to remember.

It's just an instant and then it's over.

His hand is gone from mine and he's being pulled back from me.

My eyes fly open and I see the apology on his face, as some official looking woman is pulling him away. Back to the crowd and back to his duties, to his responsibilities. his life.

A life that doesn't include me.

And I can breathe again.