Then

Rebecca's evening class dragged painfully by. She was never one for clockwatching, but tonight her eyes stared at the clock hands that moved so slowly that she thought that time would start moving backwards. Usually engaged in her classes, Rebecca's mind just continued to wander. It was such a strange feeling...whatever this feeling was. It was becoming a possibility for her to think what if she stayed? What if she found a job in Pittsburgh instead? Lived with Aunt Hilary and let whatever was happening with her and Sid develop. While all of it was so overwhelming and scary, it also felt right. She liked him so much but it was more than just because he made her heart race and her knees turn to jelly. He was her friend. She felt like she could tell him anything and he would listen. Really listen. And Rebecca believed she did the same for him. She understood him and she felt like he understood her too. It was important. People didn't find that everyday, especially people like her and the thought of losing it left her empty.

Finally the clock made its long journey two and a half times around and class was dismissed. Rebecca hurriedly put away her belongings, mindlessly stuffing her textbook and supplies into her bag. She didn't hang around to chat with classmates or ask her professor follow up questions regarding the lecture like she normally did. No tonight, she was among the first out the door.

She got home in record time. Dropping her backpack at the entryway and tossing her purse over a chair, Rebecca shrugged off her coat and went right for her bedroom. She opened her closet door and stared at the contents inside. Her wardrobe was typical of a college student, lots of jeans and faded sweatshirts. She had her nice clothes for the internship and a couple of dresses for special occasions, but none of those seemed appropriate for a movie date. Although happy she lived alone, Rebecca wished at this moment she had a well dressed roommate who was open to closet raiding. Instead she stared at the unimpressive collection and pulled out a pair of well worn jeans and a fitted tshirt. She accessorized with her mom's topaz earrings and a long bohemian layered necklace she'd gotten for Christmas from her aunt. Brushing her hair until it was smooth and shiny, Rebecca barely had time to take in her appearance in the mirror before there was a knock at the door.

She tried to calmed herself as she opened the door and was met with a pink cheeked Sid wearing a wool beanie and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his winter coat.

"Hi," he said, his grin wide and easy and the nerves reappeared just like that.

"Hi," she echoed, matching his smile.

Instantly she wanted him to kiss her, pull her into his arms and forget the movie. She wanted to make her own story, right now. Before it was over.

She wanted him to touch her until she became unglued and then take her in the way she'd read about in the middle of romance novels, the good stuff that she'd thumb through in the dark corners of the local library, reading furiously, fearful that she'd be caught any moment. Without a mother, the adolescent Rebecca had learned about throbbing members and weeping centers from those books and right now, with her own tortured hero standing before her, she wanted nothing but for him to drag her into the bedroom and discover her dripping womanhood.

"Becs?"

Rebecca snapped out of her harlequin daydream with Sid's hand waving lightly across her face.

"Huh?" She answered eloquently, her cheeks pink and the sheen of sweat just forming at her temples.

"You ready to go?"

He was looking at her curiously, a furrow in his brow that was more than adorable.

Rebecca became fidgety, maybe all of that could still happen, just the typical date stuff first, then the good part. The center of the book stuff. The thought caused the butterflies to swarm with anticipation.

She nodded, grabbed her coat and bag and locked the door. The stairs were narrow, so she trailed a bit behind him as he made easy small talk, like how was class, looks like a big storm is coming and everyone is excited for this movie. Rebecca wasn't sure what he meant by everyone. She quickly learned however, when they reached the bottom of her stairs and through the illuminated interior lights of the Range Rover she could see it was filled with people.

This wasn't a date.

She was such an idiot.

Not wanting to give herself away, she kept walking, her mind beginning to race.

When they'd talked earlier, she'd known her wandering mind had caused her to miss some of the conversation about the evening plans. Turns out she'd missed quite a bit.

They reached the SUV, Sid went for the driver's door as Rebecca, seeing that the front seat was occupied by Flower, went to the door behind him. Her hands were trembling and she was fighting back stupid, disappointed tears.

It wasn't a date. Whatever "they" were doing in dark corners and late nights wasn't dating. She wasn't sure what it was, but as she opened the door and was met by two beautiful, exotic looking women who looked like they stepped out of the winter catalog of Abercrombie and Fitch, she realized it wasn't anything like she thought.

The women smiled broadly at her as they moved graciously over to make room for her.

She felt small and mousy next to them. They were lean, their features delicate and soft, their hair shiny and their teeth even shinier.

She swallowed back the tears as she returned the smile.

The drive to the movie theatre was only ten minutes, but in that time Rebecca learned the following: her seatmates were Veronique and her cousin Lisette. Veronique dated Flower and Lisette was her cousin. Veronique was dark haired, with olive skin, while Lisette had long blond hair that shone in shades Rebecca didn't know existed. They were visiting for a few weeks from Quebec. It was not their first time in Pittsburgh, in fact, Veronique was moving to the city in the coming weeks and Lisette with a sparkle in her eye aimed right at the driver, mentioned she might consider staying herself. Sid seemed oblivious to Lisette's lingering gaze, but Rebecca certainly wasn't. They spoke halting English, so after a few niceties the group started to converse in French. Their conversations moved quickly and were filled with laughter. Even Sid joined in, his French not quite as quick but impressive nonetheless. Rebecca had taken Japanese in high school, so she was pretty much in the dark.

In more ways than one.

And so she sat there, feeling blindsided and deflated. Confused and hurt.

She didn't want him to know that of course. If this, was indeed casual, she didn't want to be left behind, longing over some relationship that didn't exist. So instead she just smiled and looked engaged.

And ignored what she was really feeling like.

A third wheel.

No, Rebecca thought as she watched a giggling Lisette reach forward and pat playfully at Sid's shoulder, not a third wheel.

A fifth wheel.

There was more of them at the movie theatre. Some other players, along with girlfriends and friends. They went in through the back. Sid evidently bought all the tickets ahead of time and worked out that the group could enter in through the back to avoid some sort of mobbing and thanks to pulling a few strings, they had the theatre to themselves. Rebecca, no longer interested in being a good sport, rolled her eyes at the gesture. Since they'd gotten out of the car, Sid hadn't even looked at her. Chatting with his buddies and leading the group to their seats, he'd settled in one row with some of the guys from the team, and she'd ended up at the end of the second row, next to some guy who'd just been called up from Wilkes-Barre. He was friendly enough, but he smelled like gym socks and his acne looked painful. Plus he didn't have much to say, so instead he sat there, his tongue pushing at his front tooth that was growing looser and looser after a big hit he'd taken in last night's game.

Just before the lights went down, Rebecca glanced over at Sid. Some of the guys had moved to spread out, the old theatre seats not conducive to their large frames and in no time Lisette slid into the open seat next to the captain. The theatre went dark just as the angry tears won the battle and started to slide down her cheeks.

There was a life that Sid lived. It wasn't necessarily something he'd sought out, it just sort of came with the job. He'd spent his life aspiring to be the best. And he was, he'd accomplished that and by doing so he entered a world that Rebecca had no place being in. That was reality, staring her right in the face and she had to be smart enough to see it, even if she didn't want to.

Twenty minutes into the movie, she felt a hand on her thigh. She looked over and there was pizza face smiling goofily at her, the tooth evidently had finally come free. And just past him, was Sid, illuminated by the large bright screen, with a blonde head on his shoulder.

And Rebecca had had enough. She removed the hand from her thigh, grabbed her stuff and made her way to the aisle. She had to get out of there.

She pushed through the doors of old theatre and into the bright light of the lobby. She walked briskly toward the front, the snow falling quickly and heavily through the glass doors. She hoped the buses were still running in this neighborhood, as she didn't have the money for a cab. She'd just made it into the cold night when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

He hadn't called her name as he followed her out into the lobby, he couldn't call attention to himself in a place like this. He knew something was off with her. As soon as they'd gotten to his car, she'd gotten quiet and seemed confused. He'd thought earlier today that inviting her to the movie night with everyone was a good idea. It was safe. He had a lot of feelings that were taking some time to process. Good feelings, but still overwhelming. He knew that this was crazy. That falling for her was not part of the plan. That she was leaving at the end of the season. That he was leaving too. He was 21 years old. He had a huge, responsibility filled life ahead of him. What he'd loved about Katy was the ease of it all. It was what was supposed to work for him. But it didn't and instead all he could think about was the small, brown haired, serious and smart, beautiful girl who captivated him in a way he'd never experienced before. She didn't look at him with moony eyes, in fact half the time she looked at him like he was a question on a test that she couldnt quite figure out. But he liked that, because she was looking beneath the surface and cared about who he really was, not the persona he projected. He was careful. He was calculated. He had to be. He needed to shield himself, but with her, he was willing to be figured out, to be exposed.

But he still needed to take it slow and tonight seemed like a good idea. Except he'd forgotten that he was him and stuff like this wasn't as easy as he thought. They'd gotten separated and by the way she was acting it didn't seem like she minded. He preferred to keep conflict for the ice, so instead just immersed himself in the guys around him. But then Lisette sat down next to him and he wasn't sure how to tell her to back off, so instead he stayed polite and detached, until he felt her head on his shoulder and he froze. All those years of awkwardness returning. It had only been for a few seconds when he'd shaken her off and glanced over his shoulder and saw Rebecca heading up the aisle. And he knew he'd fucked up.

He just hoped he could fix it.

"Hey, Becs, wait up."

She kept walking and went straight out the doors, as if she hadn't heard him or felt his touch.

"Becs," he repeated. "Don't go."

She turned around quickly, the snow falling heavily and dotting her dark hair.

"I'm leaving," she said fiddling with her scarf and staring past his left shoulder.

"Look, stay, please. I'm sorry about what happened inside." His gave her a pleading look.

Her eyes flicked to his for just a brief moment, then looked away.

"No, I mean...I'm leaving. The Pens. I gave Claude my notice today. Im staying till the end of the week. I had a few job opportunities come up and in a couple months I graduate, then I'll be returning to Delaware.'

He stared at her dumbfounded. The words taking time to sink in. It made sense, he knew she needed to make money for school, but he hadn't really thought that she'd be leaving the team, leaving him.

"It's for the best." She said quickly, still not looking at him.

"Yeah," he said weakly.

"I'm going to be busy with a new job and schooling finishing up and you have…" Rebecca's voice trailed off, not sure how to continue. "It wasn't going to work anyway." She said the last part softly.

He didn't say anything. Maybe she was right.

Maybe she wasn't.

"Can we try?" He asked, his heart and his head taking the leap.

She met his gaze, the snow coming down even heavier. There weren't many people outside as the snowfall was quickly turning into a blizzard.

The two of them didn't seem to notice.

Rebecca's eyes became bright. Shiny.

He waited for her to respond, to say yes, to agree that this was worth trying.

But instead she shook her head and looked at him sadly.

"I have to go. Bye Sid."

And before he could process what had happened she'd turned the corner and was gone from view. The snow swirled around him until he turned as well and headed back inside.

Now

He loves me.

His eyelids are heavy, barely open and his voice is quiet, not quite slurred but slow and deliberate, as if the words he speaks are literally as heavy as their weight carries.

And no sooner after the words leave his lips, he's asleep.

And Im here. On the couch. The sound of the television and the light breathing of the body next to me are the only sounds, but they are drowned by the screams of my thoughts, racing through my mind.

To hear those words. To know that it wasn't just me. That there was something on the other side. That I didn't give up all semblance of dignity and self respect. To know that all these years I've loved him, he's maybe loved me back. In all the years, of all the ways I dreamed of this happening, this was not it. Drugged up, terribly timed and incoherent enough to leave that lingering doubt that it really happened.

I stare at him for a few minutes. Openly and boldly. So many years of brief glances and quick looks make it still so strange that now I can look at him freely and not worry that he can see everything. His face is serene, calm. His think lashes settle softly against the tips of his cheeks and I can map out the freckles that scatter across his jawline. The scars of ice battles define his face, while I itch to run my fingers across his perfect brows.

Would he let me? If he were awake, would I be so bold to be so familiar, so intimate?

If he loves me I think he would.

If he loves me, he could be mine.

Finally mine.

But what happens when he wakes up? When morning comes, will it still be the same? It wasn't before. Why would it be now?

Because I am defined by that night.

The night we don't speak of. The night that changed everything.

And it follows me. It shadows me and if I stop fighting it, even for just a moment, it pulls me down into its dark depths where everything that hurts was born.

And that hurt still lives, even after all these years it thrives. It feeds on my insecurities, it feasts on my self doubt.

And I know I need to take that leap of faith. To try again. To take that chance maybe it will be different this time.

I know I need to do it. This is my chance. This is what I want. My heart can try even if my head cant.

Its within my grasp.

It could be all mine.

He could be all mine.

The last few days have been amazing, spending so much time with him. More than anything it's just felt so easy, so natural. As if the universe is telling me that this is what is supposed to happen. That we are supposed to be here, even if it's all this time later.

As he sleeps I look around at my setting. His home is comfortable. Even after all this time it still isn't quite fully furnished, but it still has his imprint on it. Framed photos line the large stone mantle. Large canvases of painted Canadian landscapes cover the walls. Rich leather furniture and large expensive electronics fill the space.

I feel overwhelmed and comforted by it all at once.

I stand up and approach the fireplace, my eyes begin to scan the photos. There are some from when he was kid and some of his extended family and friends from back home. Then there is a small collection of photos from the past five years. There's the whole Crosby clan posed on the ice after Sid had raised his first and still only Stanley Cup, then its them again at Heinz Field for the Winter Classic. Clad in only light sweatshirts, since it was so mild that day. Wide smiles on their faces before the puck dropped, not knowing what was to come. The photos continue, a visual timeline of his life the past five years and I remember all of it. I remember where I was for every photo marking some important milestone in his recent career. At the end of the mantle is the newest addition. 2014 Olympic Gold champions. The Crosbys smile wide and proud and I remember where I was for that too. I remember I wasn't there. For any of it. I wasn't there and she was. And I know that sounds jealous and petty, but its true. Off to the side of every photo is Katy. And I'm sure there are plenty of photos that show the two of them, only they are not on display, but just because I can't see them, doesn't mean they don't exist. I know they exist, because she was there. For all of it.

He says he loves me? Here is his life on display and I'm not nor have I ever been part of it. Troy and Trina know me from emails and phone calls and few brief conversations when I'd run into them in the halls of the Consol. Polite conversations with whom they thought was just another employee of the organization.

He loves me? He doesn't know me. Because I have my own mantle. I have my photos and he's not in any of them. He's not off to the side while I smile broadly and happily with my dad and Molly on a summer trip to Thunder Bay. He's not there when I stood in Stonehenge during a trip to England, he's not there when I received my Person of the Year award a few years ago from the Chamber of Commerce and smiled for the camera as I proudly held my small but meaningful award.

He wasn't there.

And it makes me wonder do I love him? Should I love him?

Was love the excuse I gave myself to so freely and willingly give myself to him over and over the past five years? Was it the only way I could reconcile casual sex with no hope or allowed expectation that it could be anything more? Was it justification for being some sort of call girl? It's funny in how tragic the whole thing is.

My heart has always been his. But can I call it love? Or was it just that my heart had no place else to go? And he was there, not for the times I was proud or successful, but rather the times I was weak or sad, hurt or lonely. Can that be love? How does something so big and so pure and so wonderful thrive only in the darkness?

And then I know that whatever this is, whatever we are, it's not right. It's not love.

And it's time for me to go.


"I'm sorry?"

My head is spinning and already I have forgotten his name.

"Brandon Fletcher. I'll be taking over for Ms. Cooper. I'm really looking forward to working with you Mr. Crosby. I'm coming over from the MLS offices, but I'm a huge hockey buff and a big fan of yours."

He give me a smile that I don't quite classify as sincere. There is something off about this guy, but mostly I figure, he isn't Rebecca.

Which is why the panic sets in. Where is she? Is she gone? The rest of the other night is fuzzy. I try to replay it hoping that it will give me some clue to why suddenly there is a new guy. Has she moved back to Delaware already? Maybe she's still at home, packing. Maybe there is still time to change her mi-

"Brandon, here are those reports I was telling you abou-"

My thoughts are interrupted and I turn at the sound of her voice, she's walking into the office, her head bent, her eyes scanning the papers in her hand and when she looks up, she sees me.

And I see her fear.

And I remember.

It doesn't scare me like I think it did her. Although, I'm pretty sure she feels the same way.

I love Rebecca. And I think she loves me too.

And it makes me feel free and strong and powerful in a way that I have never felt before, which surprises me.

But it doesn't scare me.

The only thing that scares me is not having enough time.

And the only way to fix that is to say it.

Say everything.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Her voice trembles and that frightened deer look is back.

I try to keep it light.

"I wanted to take you to lunch." I say easily, giving her a friendly smile.

I know she wants to say no, I can tell immediately. But I won't let her. I won't let us go back to before. Not now.

"Oh, well um, we are working through lunch today. Um, Brandon...this is Brandon by the way," she gestures towards the third party in the room.

"We've met," Brandon says silkily, and before Rebecca can continue, "But please Rebecca go, I'll be fine. I need to see HR about a few matters anyway, so this is a good time to break."

Brandon gives me a quick look and I think maybe this guy isn't all bad.

Rebecca knows she is stuck. I can't help but love how she pulls in her lip to gnaw at anxiously. She straightens her back, something she does when she's nervous, I think it's to show she feels in control and is confident, when perhaps she feeling less so. She gives Brandon a tight smile, drops off the reports and pulls her coat and purse off a nearby hook.

I boldly take her hand in mine and gently pull her out into the hallway.

I see the panic in her eyes, as they dart from our joined hands, to the area around us, surely looking to see if anyone is watching.

Whether they are or not, I don't care. I continue to pull at her, as she seems reluctant about all of this.

She doesnt say anything and I dont either. I push the button on the elevator and it immediately opens.

I drag her in, press a button and wait for the doors to close. No sooner after the doors are shut and the elevator begins it descent down to ground level, I reach over and press the STOP button. The elevator lurches to a stop and Rebecca looks like she is going to have a panic attack. So I have to move quickly.

"I love you." I say in a rush. "And I know you love me too."

She stares at me with wide eyed shock.

I walk slowly towards her and I say it again, slower and softer, trying to let the words envelop her like they have me, "I love you Becs."

She takes a step back.

"No, you don't." She responds, the fear back in her eyes.

"Yes, I do. And you love me."

She shakes her head, her eyes are wet.

"No, I don't."

I know she's wrong, but I don't want to tell her. Not right now.

I'm sure, I'm so sure of what I feel and what she feels that I refuse to believe otherwise.

"I love you," I say again.

She blinks a few times, trying to regain control.

Then she's all business.

"You think you do, but you don't. It's not real, Sid. I think its just because I'm leaving and you think that…" She is struggling to continue and I can't help but think she's convinced herself that it's true. That I don't love her, that she doesn't love me.

So I have to show her.

Show her she's wrong.

"Becs," my voice is quiet. "I love you."

"Stop saying that." She says and I know she's barely hanging on.

Her back is against the elevator wall and she's staring at me, begging me to stop.

But I won't.

I'm close to her now. So close.

My body cloaks her and there is nothing but silence now. Just the sound of our breath, mine even and calm, hers quick and labored, her chest heaving as she tries to take in more oxygen.

And then I kiss her. I drag my mouth against hers, slowly, my lips languidly tasting hers.

And she lets me.

She stands still as I kiss her, my tongue probing and seeking acceptance, which she gives me.

I kiss her for a few moments, her mouth is slower to respond. But I don't mind. I just need to be able touch her, to taste her.

I have to taste her.

My mouth moves from hers to the slope of her neck. My lips feast on the soft and sweet skin and I hear the sounds of breathy moans and I know won't stop me. In fact the thud of her purse and coat falling to the ground, confirm my suspicions. I wait for her hands to thread my hair and direct to where it feels the best, but it doesn't happen. I continue anyway, because I already know where and what feels the best, after all these years. I know.

My hands are moving as quickly as my mouth. They are pulling at the blouse tucked into her skirt. She doesn't move, as my hands find flesh, traveling up the smooth skin of her torso and to the silk covered breasts that I can feel are rising and rapidly. My hands massage the flesh, pulling them free from the confinements of her bra. My fingers move gently over the pebbled nipple and savor the heat and texture of skin.

She still hasn't touched me. I steal a glance at her. Her eyes are closed and her mouth slightly open.

"Look at me." I say.

She opens her eyes, heavy lidded with desire.

"I love you."

And then before she can respond, give another weak attempt that I'm wrong, I drop to my knees.

I have to taste her.

***Author's note: Gah! Im so sorry for delays. No excuses, just life (and a little sports heartbreak #clevelandcurse). Dont hate me for stopping here. The good stuff is coming, soon, I swear. For those of you still sticking with me, thank you, thank you! I know the time between chapters sucks. And I can only promise that I will try to do better. Your reviews and gentle pushes are very much appreciated.***

***Author's note 2: This is highly unedited. I hope to go back and clean it up today, but wanted to get it up before I go to work.***