28. Amends

Song: Miike Snow - Silvia


JORDAN'S POV



Max loves playing at the Bell Centre, partly because he loves playing in his home town, and the other reason, he loves Montreal women – so he skates round picking out his next victim from the crowd. Geno and I tried to tell him that apart from pucks, most chicks in the arena are there with their boyfriend or husband, so it’s pretty unlikely they’re going to be looking for ‘a night with Superstar’ as Talbie puts it. So when Max came back to me with his inane grin, I knew he’d found someone.

“She’s here,” he said to me quietly. I nodded and slapped him on the back, pleased he’d found his entertainment so early, but he’s not too fussy, before taking a seat on the bench. “No, no Stretch, she’s here. Ella’s here.”

“What? How?” were the first words that came tumbling out. So many questions were running through my mind that my mouth couldn’t spit them out fast enough. Out of all of the twenty plus thousand supporters how had he managed to pick out Ella? Had Gina told him she would be here? Why hadn’t he told me earlier? I hadn’t had the best first period, now I needed to impress her. I was going to skate my butt off to show her how good I was on the ice. Maybe get a goal or three.

“Yeah, she’s here, and she’s with a guy. Be discreet. Opposite us, second row, be DISCREET!” Max hissed. I looked up from underneath my helmet, pretending to fiddle with the tape on the end of my stick as I searched the sea of faces. Had she found another guy? She stood out in her grey coat, her blond hair shimmering against the sea of red, white and blue. Thankfully she wasn’t wearing a Habs shirt, but she wasn’t wearing a Pens shirt either. My gaze flickered to the guy next to her; he shared the same shade of blond as Ella. The same guy from the photos on her corkboard - that must be Felix.

“The guy is her twin, you moron,” I answered.

“Twin? I thought twins were Swedish, and always girls? Shame she doesn’t have a twin sister,” Max said. I could practically see his filthy mind whirring, dirty thoughts about waking up with twins. I gave him a little push, enough for him to stop thinking about twins before El Sid starts talking tactics with us again. I knew we were on live TV so I didn’t want to do anything too obvious, and I was glad that neither of us were miked up for this game.

“Dude, you’ve been there, remember? Stop thinking about Ella.” Knowing Max he probably didn’t remember, and right now, I didn’t want to hear the details. “Where’s that usher who you use to pick out girls from the crowd? Go get him for me? And tell him where Ella’s seated.” I knew the seating plan at the Igloo, that was great for picking out hot girls for an after match consolation screw. They were always willing to please. But here, here was an entirely different matter. Unlike Talbie, I hadn’t memorised the seating plans of every arena in the Eastern Conference just so I could pick out chicks.





“I didn’t think you’d come,” I heard Max saying to Ella as she introduced Felix. I could hear Ella talking in a low voice but I couldn’t make out her words. “He’s just round the corner, go see him. He misses you.” I could feel my heart quicken as I heard footsteps round the corner, my breath shortening until she was in front of me.

“Ella,” I said. I didn’t mean it to sound like a question, but I was surprised at the same time. “Thank you,” I said. She stood in front of me, dressed in a grey pea coat and black skinny jeans, her arms folded across her chest looking at me. She looked thoroughly pissed off.

“I’m sorry,” I began knowing that sorry wasn’t enough.

“What for?” she asked. Are you kidding? This had to be a test. I knew I’d screwed up. For dancing with Lola, and for not remembering it. For telling you I loved you during sex and then keeping quiet and for acting weird afterwards. For the lie I’m going to tell you. For what I’m going to omit.

“For dancing with Lola, I don’t remember. But I know nothing happened. Nothing apart from dancing. That seems like a lame excuse, it’s not even an excuse, it’s the truth. Why did you run? I came to find you and you’d gone.” I needed answers. I needed to know how she felt and if she still even wanted to talk to me.

“Because. Because, I saw you with her,” she spat the word out, and I felt disgusted again. I felt like utter shit, which I knew I deserved. “Because I didn’t want to be fucked and chucked. Because I didn’t know what to do, and I needed space and the only place I knew I could have space was Montreal. Because I was jealous and I didn’t want to admit it. Because I realised I liked you. A lot.” She emphasised the ‘lot’.

“I’m sorry,” I said, standing up and pulling her small hands into my hands. Normally I ‘fuck and chuck’ as she put it; on the team we prefer ‘pump and dump’ - but with her it’s different, a good different. I loved the way she pronounced Montreal and the way the word just rolled off her tongue - the same tongue which drove me insane in bed. She frowned, withdrawing her hands and pushing them deep into her coat pockets. “You liked me? Does this mean I, we, still have a chance? I like you too, but you know that.”

“Funny way of showing it,” she said, sitting down on the bench a couple of metres away. The distance felt longer. Yeah I hadn’t exactly shown it. I put myself out there, by saying those three stupid words, I clammed up and ran away only to be distant when I saw her again. Seeing her made me want to draw her up in my arms and kiss her anger away before locking her away for the night for body breaking sex.

“Well, I want to make it up to you, dinner?” I asked. I knew dinner alone wouldn’t suffice.

“I don’t know,” she said. It was never going to be that easy.

“What don’t you know about? Dinner? It’s just dinner? Please,” I begged. I never begged girls, this was something new. “I know we said exclusive, and then I screwed that up, but I want to make it right, and we both like each other, so how about we make a go of it. Relationship?” I’d just said the big ‘R-word’ but hopefully it was the right thing to do. I watched her visibly gulp.

“Are you asking me out?” No, of course not.

“Yeah and that was the lamest way to do it,” I trailed off.

“Hmm… on one condition,” I looked up as she was speaking, hoping whatever it was going to be was a good condition, more sex, sex everyday, threesome with Gina, sex in the locker room – dreamt about that one – her tied up in my bed, making a sex tape with her in control, her dressed up in nothing but my hockey socks… “I call the shots.” Now it was my turn to gulp. Her calling the shots – well that was a big turn on. But if it meant we took things at her pace instead of mine, then it’s a good thing. I’ve rushed into this, and I can tell she’s a little more hesitant than me about it. And I know I freaked her out by saying those three words, the ‘L-word’ because we’re not at that place. Not yet, anyway. We should start by being on the same page.

“So, was that a yes or a no to the previous question?” I sound like I’m on a gameshow… what’s she going to say? The million-dollar question.

“It’s a yes and a yes, but following my condition.” Yep, read the terms and conditions, let’s skip to the fun stuff. No chicks can resist my smoothness.

“Why you sitting over there?” I asked, beckoning with my head for her to come closer. Ella got up and came and sat next to me, leaning her head against my shoulder.

“Sorry for running,” she whispered into my suit. I planted a kiss on the top of her head, before pulling her to her feet and into my arms. If anything, I should be the one who’s apologising. Thank fuck for Max. He found her. “So dinner?”

“I’m flying to New York in about fifteen minutes, and then Carolina. I’ll see two of my brothers for two matches and then back to Pitt, so maybe next Friday?” Fuck, that was a really, really long time to wait to see her.

27. Centre Bell

So I went to Tremblant for the weekend – bit of an escapist weekend and I heard this song in a café there - I’m not sure about using it – I know there are many associations with it, but it seemed appropriate here. If you’re offended or think I shouldn’t use it, please let me know. I didn’t post before I went because I wanted to be proud of this update, but I'm still less than impressed. I feel my writing has been mediocre of late. It's still a little disjointed. Let me know what you think...


Song: Tom Cochrane - Big League




ELLA'S POV


“So you still haven’t confessed up as to why you’re here. Ells?” I listened to Felix’s voice as he stood in my doorway as I lay flat on back on my comfy bed. I had exhausted rue St. Catherine, Place des Ailes and the Eaton Centre and come home to flop. My feet were killing. I’d visited several friends at McGill, played Frisbee in the parc and even been up to Quebec City for the day with my mother who’d taken me to lunch at the Frontenac. “It’s all about being seen in the right places,” she had told me.

“It’s no biggie,” I lied, not even bothering to look through the stuff I’d absentmindedly bought earlier in the day. You know the shopping you do when you drift around, not looking for anything in particular but returning with a dozen things, things you don’t need or necessarily want. There’s only so much avoidance shopping I can do, Montreal is better than Pittsburgh for shopping, but it’s no New York.

“Well, I’m taking you out, to the game tonight. You need a distraction, I have season tickets. You’re coming,” Felix said, taking my hands and pulling me up. In Montreal there is only one ‘game’ – hockey. Everybody bleeds bleu, blanc, rouge. “Have a shower, choose something from your shopping trip and we’ll go.”

“Who’s playing?” I asked when we were on the metro. Please not Pittsburgh. Just please not them.

“Montréal against Tampa Bay,” Felix replied. Thank God. “Is this about Jordan Staal? What happened?” He looked me straight in the eye, trying to read me. I needed to learn not to give things away so easily, but then again I can’t hide things from him. Felix has always been my counsellor, not mother dearest. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“You knew we were exclusive. Well we were in Diesel, with Gina and Max, he plays too…” I saw Felix’s face but I pressed on… “And he was dancing with this girl. They looked, friendly, and he was drunk. And, and….” I didn’t need to say anymore, he just knew. Almost instinctively. Felix pulled me into a hug, my head buried in his shoulder. I wrapped my arms around him, forcing the tears away. What good was crying now?


Felix has always had excellent seats at the Centre Bell though this would be the first time I’ve ever been with him. The atmosphere was incredible, so many noisy Habs fan, I could almost be converted, I thought, as we passed the four hockey statues outside. And then I saw a Penguins jersey. Just one. And then another. And another.

“Shit! Felix, it’s not Tampa Bay is it?” I hissed, pulling on his arm. How could he have tricked me? What if Jordan saw me? I mean it’s unlikely, in such a huge stadium he wouldn’t be able to pick me out. He’d be concentrating on the game. But still, what if? Our seats are on the second row, it’s not impossible.

“No it’s not, but you wouldn’t have left the house if I had said otherwise. You need to get your mind off things, and you’ll know how you feel when you see him,” Felix admitted. At least he was being honest. It wasn’t like he was trying to push me here to talk to Jordan, he wanted me to take my mind off things.
“Hot dog? Poutine?” he offered as we passed the concession stand. He knew poutine was a joke – the only time I’ll eat it is when I’ve been skiing.
“Get me a beer or two,” I replied, needing something to take the pain off actually being here. I’m a glutton for punishment and some cold Molson is the way forward right now. I’m not a beer drinker and until now I’ve never been to a hockey match – there’s a first time for everything. Felix just looked at me, deciding whether to question me or not and realised he knew better, turning back around in the queue.


I watched them run out onto the ice, enjoying the display of lights and music, then the mascot and the fat lady singing ‘Oh Canada’. I picked Jordan out, slightly taller than most of his team mates, his white helmet perched on top of his head, joking around with Max and the guy wearing number 71. He looked happy and relaxed, without a care in the world as he skated around, messing about with a puck behind the net.

The first period was zipping by and I was absorbed, glad that Felix had dragged me out, not that I’d admit it. The crowd was infectious, their enthusiasm for the game never ending even as Pittsburgh made it 3-0 towards the end of the first period. Felix leaned towards me, “Are you OK? You need to stop staring at the visitors’ bench.” I hadn’t realised but I hadn’t taken my eyes off Jordan. I wanted him to see me, but he never took his eyes off the puck or his team mates on the bench opposite us. “You have to talk to him, maybe he feels the same way,” Felix said quietly. It definitely didn’t look that way in Diesel. “I know you want him back, you have to tell him that.”

“Hey, what are those things that whizz over the ice and make fresh ice again?” I asked obviously trying to change the subject as said machines rolled out onto the ice. “Sounds like a type of pasta?”
“Zamboni?” Felix chuckled. OK, I’m not the hockey expert and I don’t pretend to be.
We sat watching the zambonis sweep over the ice as the people around us gradually dispersed to get more beer and popcorn.

“You want to talk about it?” Felix asked.

“Not particularly,” I snapped. Would he just quit it? “You brought me here – isn’t that enough? And you lied…” I was still a little cross about this, despite Felix saying he was just trying to ‘get me out of the house and take my mind off things’. Technically he had still deceived me even if he had my best interests at heart. And watching Jordan skate around was nice to watch, though I wasn’t so keen on him being hit. “Well we aren’t going anywhere until you do. And you couldn’t take your eyes off him first period.” I know I hadn’t and I knew I liked him. I just didn’t know what to do now – who was that girl from Diesel and how did I approach Jordan. I hadn’t spoken to him for nearly a week; I couldn’t just turn up in Pittsburgh and assume things were back to normal.

I watched the players file back out onto the ice, Max skating in little circles, scanning through the crowd, until his eyes rested on mine. His mouth dropped into a little ‘O’. Felix noticed and nudged my arm. “You know Max Talbot?” I nodded gently, not wanting to draw attention to us or the crazy fans on either side of us who had now returned.

“Gina went on a date with him last week. Too much charm and seems like a total womaniser,” I replied, staring straight at the ice, not focusing on anything in particular. Felix laughed. “Yep, sounds right, but he did score their winning goals last year.” Really? I’m surprised I haven’t heard about that seeing how ostentatious he was with everything else. Felix grinned at me, turning his attention back to the ice, before he was tapped on the shoulder. A man in a suit whispered quickly into his ear, as Felix nodded, a smile spreading across his face. As quickly as the man had arrived, he had gone. That was bizarre.

“We’ve been invited back into the dressing rooms after the match,” Felix said. “You cannot not let me go, it’d be a crime for me not to go, I’ve always wanted to go. Come with me.”

26. Comprehension

Thank you for your feedback - this one's another shorty I'm afraid. Please let me know your opinions & Happy Commenting :)

Song: Florence and the Machine - Kiss with a Fist


JORDAN'S POV


I had been pacing around my apartment for a few hours whilst Max and TK sat on my couch and listened. “Stop wearing the carpet out, and go and see Gina,” Max advised. “She’ll know what to do.” TK looked relieved that Max had finally suggested something – honestly, TK is no help in these situations.
“Thanks Talbo,” I said grinning as he gave me the thumbs up.
“Go get her back,” he replied. Was she ever mine in the first place?


I stepped into Ella’s room and took a look around. It wasn’t the first time I’d been in here, but it was the first time I’d been in here without her. I’d never paid any attention to the huge corkboard that took up one wall stretching from floor to ceiling. However I did now - it was Ella’s life. Her life that I’d just bypassed before on the way to getting laid. It was covered in post-its, notes from her friends, doodles, letters, postcards and hundreds of photos and polaroids. It was a sneak peek of her life – of her memories and experiences. One photo kept drawing my attention back to it, the same guy reappearing in many photos.

“Who’s the guy?” I asked not removing my glance from a photo of a grinning Ella with her arm around a guy who had the same big green eyes, blonde hair, freckles and the same snub nose.

“Felix, her twin,” Gina said quietly perched on Ella’s bed. She had never told me she had a twin. Actually she hadn’t told me a lot of things about herself.

“Jordan, I want you and Ella to be together, her eyes look brighter when she’s around you and you bring out this side of her I haven’t seen for ages since Acapulco. You made her so happy on her last evening, she didn't want to come back. If you do want to be together, you’ve got to want to know and accept everything about her. Felix is very important to Ella, and understanding their bond is part of understanding Ella. He is her best friend, her brother, confidant and biggest supporter. She’s flown back to Montreal to clear her head. She’ll be back in a week; she needs the time and space.”

I had to go to Montreal. I had to. It was the only way to get her back. What if she made up her mind in a week that she didn’t want me? If I got there beforehand I could change her, convince her that we were good together.

“I don’t think you should go to Montreal, it’s the last thing she’d want,” Gina mind-read. “And I’m not sure Felix would welcome you just turning up like that.” Screw her brother. What does he know? Apparently a lot more than me.



“Why you here?” Geno said, taking the beer out of my hand and drinking it dry. “You have woman problems, you fix them.” Woman problems I still had. Trust Geno to be so fucking moral right now. Thieving Russian drinking my beer. Earlier, Gina had given me an insight into Ella’s life but hadn’t dropped any clues on how to win her back. If ‘winning’ was even the correct thing. She had told me it was up to me to fix, but that I should know I had her full support.

“Woman, Ella, is in Montreal,” I sighed looking out over the balcony onto the crowded Diesel dance floor. I don’t know why I was speaking to Geno as if he was stupid, but I didn’t want to explain the whole situation to him right now.
“We have game there Thursday, you find her,” Geno stated. If only things were that simple. We don’t all live in Crosby’s miracle world where everything goes like clockwork. Hell, if you rewrite his firstname it spells Disney – his life is like a Disney fairytale. Back to Ella. And it’s not like I even know where she lives in Montreal. Maybe Gina would help with that?

“Maybe, thanks Geno,” I said, not knowing why I’d been persuaded to be here. I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t need to be here, and I didn’t even have plans to pull a puck bunny tonight. What changed?



Uh oh. Here comes Sophie, I thought, bracing myself for Hurricane Sophie and probably the tirade of abuse that would come.
“Jordan, what are you doing here?” she asked. So friendly? Guess she wasn’t out to have a go at me.

“Celebrating a win,” I guessed, tyle:italic;">was that the right question, or was she asking something else? Like why am I here with the team and not Ella. Technically she’s not my girlfriend so I don’t have to Velcro her to my side. Why am I justifying myself to Sophie?

“It’s nice to see you again,” she said, gently swaying on the spot. Man did she look out of it, her eyes were all over the place.

“So you haven’t heard?” I asked her, half hoping she’d spoken to Ella and could tell me how she was doing. I needed an ‘OK’ or a ‘She’s doing well’. I kind of wanted Sophie to say she was miserable so I knew we both felt the same way. That’s so selfish of me.

“Yeah, I heard,” she stuttered. “What the hell were you doing?” She changed her tune. A minute ago she was happy to see me - women are so fucking hormonal.

“I didn’t know. She doesn’t mean anything to me, we slept together, once,” I lied, I couldn’t admit it had been more than once. Now the thought of it disgusted me. “And I regret it. I don’t even remember last night. I need to get her back. Gina talked to me today but won’t help me. She told me not to go to Montreal.”

“Pfft. Ignore Gina,” Sophie said laughing, wobbling on the spot. She really is out of it. “Go to Montreal, do the romantic gesture and get her back. If you chase her to Montreal, she knows you want her. Right now, she’s not sure if you want her and she’s not sure what she wants.” Sophie made more sense than Gina, even if she was absolutely trashed.

“Of course I want her,” I argued back, trying to understand why Ella would think I didn’t want her. We have a match in Montreal this Thursday, I'm going to see her however I can. I turned away, heading towards the door and peace.

“Jordan?” Sophie shouted above the music, taking a couple of steps towards me. I turned, as she planted her mouth on mine. It took me a second to respond, pushing her away. “What the fuck?” I said, feeling violated. She tasted like foul liquor, scotch at best.

“I just wanted to see what Ella was missing out on.” Bitch, she’s a skanky bitch. From now on, I’m going to listen to Gina’s advice. At least she’s not wasted and delirious like Sophie.

“Max, we have a problem”

I sent to Max as I got in a cab back to my apartment. Fuck, she really threw a spanner in the works. As if I haven’t fucked up enough.

25. Montréal

Thank you, your comments mean so much to me and spur me on to write the next instaalment. So here goes... only a short one, sorry!

Song: Imogen Heap - Speeding Cars


ELLA'S POV


The tears ran down my face, blurring my vision. I blinked hard, trying to force the tears to stop. I turned to my best friend; I’d mucked up her evening. “Gina, what do I do?” I asked, lying on my bed, clutching my pillow. I felt like my whole world was crashing down around me. My natural instinct was to run. Run far away.

“You should stay and talk it out, you can’t bury your head in the sand,” Gina said, stroking my hair and giving me a hug. “Get some sleep and we’ll figure it out in the morning,” she said as she made me get into bed.
“I’m sorry for wrecking your date with Max,” as she went out of the room. God, I’m so selfish sometimes. Gina’s always there for me, and she finally goes on a date and I fuck it up for her. I laid in bed staring up at the darkened ceiling, piecing together tonight’s events. Maybe I should have stayed and danced with another guy, or one of Jordan’s teammates to make him jealous? That’s being immature, I told myself. That never works – and who knows if it would have worked? I don’t even know if he knew I saw him with that, that girl.

The last thing I wanted to do was sleep, my bed smelled of Jordan. He always smelt good. Too many memories. I got out of bed and pulled out a suitcase from under my bed packing the essentials. I took my favourite clothes, my make up bag, pyjamas, enough clothes for a week. After giving Gina twenty minutes to fall asleep I crept into the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush and moisturisers. Most of the other things should be back in the house.

I quickly scribbled Gina a note,

G, Couldn’t stand to be in Pitt any longer, have gone to Montréal for few days to figure this out. Sorry I ran off without saying bye. Love you and will call you soon Ella xxx

I hurried out into the lift, still wearing the clothes I’d worn to Diesel, not caring if I looked like a Bulgarian hooker. The street was dark, illuminated by the haze of streetlights in the eerie early morning mist. I hailed a cab as soon as I hit the street, glad that it wasn’t raining.

“Airport please.”

I didn’t care that I looked a mess, I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I had been crying in the taxi all the way to the airport. The driver asked if there was anything he could do to help me, handing me a large box of tissues to stem the flow. I shook my head, it was kind of him to offer. But right now the only person I wanted to see was Felix. Going back to Montreal meant I’d have to see my mother, but it was worth it just to see Felix. He always knows how to cheer me up.

“One way ticket to Montreal, next flight,” I said, taking out the black credit card Dad had given me for emergencies. I guessed this counted as one, emotional emergency.

“Would you like first class Miss Parise?” the lady behind the desk said. Oh why the hell not.
“Yes,” I said not even caring how much this was going to cost.

I took a seat in the deserted lounge, using the bathroom to clear my face up, my eyes red from crying. I looked a mess. I turned on my phone again, yet another two missed calls from Jordan. It was going to take more than a phone conversation, I thought bitterly, to explain that. I texted Felix telling him to pick me up from the airport knowing he’d be there if I asked him to be.

“No questions”

I sent in another message to him before switching my phone off. I didn’t want to be in contact with anyone for a few days. Mother would be surprised that I’d be home, no doubt predicting I was having a mini breakdown pre-finals and trying to get me to sit on her couch and talk about my ‘issues’. She’s been trying to find ‘issues’ with me and my brother since we were about seven much to Dad’s annoyance. Her personal pet ‘projects’. Despite taking an over interest in our lives, our mother had never actually ‘been there’. She was more interested in our psychological well being than what we were up to. Thankfully Dad had cared, even if he was never there, through various nannies and his visits on the weekend. If he’d had his way, we’d have been schooled in New York, not Montréal.

I only plan on spending a week at the very most in Montréal, enough to clear my head before getting back to Pittsburgh. Technically, even if I don’t show up to my finals, I’ve still got enough credits to get me a good enough grade. OK, it wouldn’t be what I’m hoping to get, but I still couldn’t fail. I had worked too hard this year to fail, and the last thing I was going to do was not show up to my exams. And I wanted to graduate top of my class – I’d pushed myself this hard to achieve this much, screwing up now was not an option.



Fortunately there was no one else in first class and I was glad of the solitude. The last thing I needed was an over attentive air hostess or nosey passengers wondering why I was still dressed in last night’s clothes. I clutched my coffee to me; it tasted bittersweet, the clash of the sugar I’d added to keep my drowsy self awake and the black coffee. I flicked through one of the in flight magazines not seeing anything that caught my interest. I ordered another coffee knowing I’d need to deal with Felix when I arrived in Montréal. He’s not the type to accept and believe any line I feed him. He’ll know something’s up. He wasn’t born yesterday.

As I relaxed back in my seat my thoughts drifted to why I was running away. I’m not good at dealing with problems - Felix has always been the confrontational one. He always won my arguments for me. I’d make a terrible lawyer. Seeing Jordan ‘dancing’ with that girl had stirred up feelings inside of me. Anger, yes. Jealousy, of course, and betrayal. But there was something else that I couldn’t put my finger on which was why I was going to Montreal – to figure it out. Hopefully a change of scenery and Felix would recharge my batteries. I didn’t want to completely take my mind off things, but I didn’t know what I wanted right now, and that's what I needed to figure out - my plan of action.

24. Lola

Loved the feedback from the last chapter, thank you! A little earlier than expected but here you go. Happy Commenting...


Song: The Kinks - Lola


JORDAN'S POV


“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

My phone beeped signalling a new message from Max as I picked it up, still lying in my bed. What had I done? I don’t remember last night. If Max was mad at me, it had to be bad. My head throbbed as I lay there, the sunlight dazzling through my bedroom. I felt the bed shift next to me. Was Ella here? I turned my head to see a familiar looking girl with brown hair and black stripes. She looks like a racoon, was my first thought. That was definitely not Ella. Shit.

“Lola?” I said. How the fuck did she get in here? She might be the reason I had an angry voicemail and text from Max. I watched her sit up in bed, a slow grin spreading across her face. Why is she so happy? Now is not the time. What the fuck have I done?

“Hey there,” she purred at me. Yuck she reeks of alcohol. Why isn’t she wearing anything? Fuck - am I wearing clothes? I peeked under the covers, thankful that I was still dressed from the waist down. That means we can’t have had sex. Thank god.

“You were so out of it last night, maybe you’re feeling better now, maybe we can…” she whispered as she stroked my arm, laying a kiss on my temple. Her touch made me recoil inside. I felt disgusted, ordering her to leave. I had absolutely no idea how or why she was even here. I didn’t even want to know.

"Bye Jordy, call me when you're feeling lonely."

As soon as I heard the front door close I made my way into the kitchen before ringing Max. I wanted and needed to know what had happened last night.

“Max, tell me everything, what the fuck happened?” I said, leaning against the kitchen counter, praying Max had some answers. I listened to him babble on, about Ella not drinking, about how she’d gone looking for me, about how she’d suddenly left, Gina going after her, then Max told me he’d seen me in the middle of the dance grinding with Lola, fucked off my face. I’d been dancing with Lola in the middle of Diesel and no one had stopped me?!

“Dude, you need to go see her, apologise, before it’s too late,” Max told me. “Get your shit together and grovel.”

“I can’t do that. She won’t want to see me,” I began, looking out of the window at the grey sky. Even the weather reflected my dark mood.

“It’s the least you can do. If you don’t go, you won’t know how she feels,” Max said before hanging up on me. At least I knew what had happened last night even if Max was being a shit, though I could hardly blame him, it was my fucking fault. I think I know how she feels.

I pulled some eggs out of the fridge, chucking them angrily into a pan, making myself an omelette. I needed food before I could do anything. I couldn’t believe I’d let myself get that drunk and desert Ella for Lola. She had nothing on Ella, Ella was incomparable, she was stunning and she had looked gorgeous last night. I remember picking her up – she looked beautiful. She is beautiful, so why did I bring last month’s sket back to my place. Did I bring her back here? Or did she invite herself? Either way it didn’t make any difference now; Ella wasn’t here and she hadn’t texted me. She had run out of Diesel last night and I’d lost her trust.

I tried calling her after I ate my omelette – it rang several times before the voicemail kicked in. And again. “Ella, please. Call me,” I said before hanging up. The puck’s on her stick now, it’s her turn to decide what to do. I only hope it’s not too late.

I opened the fridge for some chocolate milk, noticing the toffee sauce she’d brought over was still in there. I threw it in the bin. That had been such a good night – despite my botched attempt at cooking. I didn’t need a reminder of what I’d just screwed up. I’d told her I’d loved her during sex and then I had gone weird on her yesterday trying to work out if she remembered me telling her I loved her just as I came. I mean I love being with her, she brings out the best in me and I love having sex with her. She plays my body like Jimmy Hendrix played guitar – amazingly. But I wasn’t sure that I was in love with her. I’m not sure that I’ve ever been in love, but whatever chance I’d had with Ella was gone, I was pretty sure of that.

I tried ringing her again but instead of even ringing it went straight to voicemail. She’s avoiding my calls now. She doesn’t want to speak to me. The truth hurts. If only I had a watch and could turn back time.

Why in my moment of weakness had I chosen Lola? Jose Cuervo and I are no longer friends after last night. Lola is. Urgh. Lola is nothing. She means nothing to me, she just happened to be there. And she threw herself at me. The last bit I wasn’t so sure about, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t initiate anything with her last night. She just happened to be in Diesel, which is rare, because I never see her in there. Now all I have to do is tell Ella all of this.

“Gronk you’re too late. Gina’s told me Ella’s in Montreal,”

Max’s text read. I punched the kitchen counter hard, drawing blood on my knuckles. Ouch. Why did I just do that? I’m such an idiot. I thought about throwing my phone against the wall, but realised Ella couldn’t text me if I did that.

I walked back into my bedroom, changing the sheets from my bed. I didn’t need a reminder of what I’d done last night, as I stuffed the white linen into the machine. I sat down on the floor in my living room and called TK. Maybe he’d come around and cheer me up.

“Sorry man, Kelsey and I are furniture shopping. Call Ella”

Frustrated I put my phone back in my pocket. Clearly TK had no idea about what happened last night. Practice started in half an hour, I should really get my butt in gear. Getting my bag ready, I jogged down the stairs instead of taking the lift, trying to call Ella again. Voicemail again. Max would help me; he knows what women want. Suddenly the realisation hit me:

I’ve lost her.

23. Diesel

Thanks for the feedback, I'm trying not to give too much away but it'll slot into place soon enough. Happy Commenting!


Song: Nelly - Party People


ELLA'S POV - PART TWO


I sat on my bed wondering what to wear. I had nothing to wear. It’s not like I don’t have any clothes, more like I had nothing I wanted to wear at that point. I wanted to look good. Pretty but not try hard, sexy but not slutty.

Jordan had said he’d come get me at nine and I had fifteen minutes left before he was supposed to arrive. I was still confused. Talking to Gina hadn’t cleared anything up and Jordan had blown hot and cold earlier. He had been so considerate thinking I might want carrot cake, checking to see that I was ok, giving me his jacket in the park even if he cold himself. Then he had seemed distant asking about Diesel. It’s not like he hadn’t asked me to places before, so why was this any harder? I’d already met some of his teammates, was it because this would be in a public place? We’re supposed to be exclusive, I’m not his girlfriend so it’s not like we’re going public.

I walked into Gina’s room, hoping she’d have something I could wear. Gina had taken her grey dress that I’d borrowed in Acapulco so that was out of the question. Uninspired I walked through to Soph’s room. Soph is the ultimate party queen and her fashion choice is at times, questionable. Her wardrobe contains the most bizarre selection of clothes that would make Madonna look proud. However tonight I didn’t want to look like Madonna or Soph, so I headed back to my own room, settling on this dress

I smiled at my reflection before letting my hair down into loose waves and applying a coat of lipgloss.

“Can we just stay here?” was Jordan’s reaction when I opened the door to him. I shook my head, tempted at the thought. “Tanger’s driving but please,” Jordan said as we heard a horn honk outside, as he wrapped his hands around my waist and bringing me towards his lips. I couldn’t resist kissing him. I had dreams about those lips. When he’d finally kissed all of my lipgloss off - to which he’d said “Why do girls wear that stuff? It’s sticky and doesn’t taste good,” – I found my purse and we left. Now by anyone’s standards nine o’clock is far too early to go to a club.

“Where are we going?” I asked Jordan thinking we couldn’t possibly be going to Diesel.
“Well we were going to go to Flower’s, but he and Vero had an argument so they’re probs making up now, so we’re going straight to Diesel,” he replied, taking my hand as we got out of the lift and headed towards a dark SUV.

As soon as we got into the VIP section, we left Geno and Tanger so that Jordan and I could start on the tequila which I knew I was going to regret in a few hours. After remembering how awful I’d been earlier I stopped after three shots and went to find a table. Most of the tables were reserved or there filled with people I didn’t recognise. Seeing two familiar figures towards the back, I made my way over.

“Hey sweets,” Gina said when she saw me. Her and Max had found a quiet table away from the others in a corner. I didn’t want to interrupt them, but I didn’t know anyone else up here at the moment, so it’s not like I had much choice.

“Where’s Jordan?” Max asked. I shrugged. I had lost him about half an hour ago. Probably hitting up the dance floor with some of the guys. I would go join him in a bit but I just needed to stop the room from spinning first.

“How was your dinner?” I asked Gina once Max had gone back to the bar. Gina smiled, she had that look of contentment in her eye and her eyes were a little glazed over.

“Great, he took me to this really nice tapas restaurant outside of the city, he’s been a perfect gentleman, not at all what I was expecting,” Gina said. I see he’d got her nicely tipsy too. “How’re you and Jordan?”

I bit my lip which I tended to do when I was thinking or nervous. It brought me time. Max took a seat next to Gina as I began. “I don’t know, he was off with me at lunch today, he just seemed distant,” I explained. I didn’t want to go into it too much but it was still bugging me.

“You know why that is?” Max answered, leaning towards me across the table. No, tell me. “He’s not used to a girl not worshipping him, turning him down or being a little standoffish. He’s used to girls who know who he is, who treat him like the big celebrity, so he’s intrigued by you, which is why he’s waiting.”

Waiting for what? I’m not going to stroke his ego for him, that’s not my job.

“What’s he waiting for?” Gina asked, not understanding Max’s logic either.

“For you to fall for him,” Max said, raising his hands in the air as if it was so simple.

You have to be kidding me, I thought. “So, he’s arrogant enough to think I’m going to fall for him?” I questioned. A big grin spread across Max’s face. Seriously?

“Yes! And you are, aren’t you?” This isn’t Romeo and Juliet? Max isn’t the fairy godmother who can just snap his fingers and make me fall for Jordan. People don’t just fall for one another like that, life isn’t a Disney story. Since when did I become such a cynic on love?

I looked down at my lap, not knowing how to reply to that. As I had told Gina earlier, I liked the blonde giant, I wasn’t in love with him and I don’t think I was falling for him yet either. Truthfully I liked spending time with him, he was good in bed and we had this great physical attraction that led to incredible sex. He was caring for me, he had come back to visit me in hospital after my epileptic seizure, he had brought me carrot cake and he knew how to make me laugh.

“I’m going to go find Jordan,” I said to Max and Gina, leaving the pink cocktail on the table. It looked good but it was probably the last thing my body needed after last night.

After looking round the dark VIP section I decided to head down the stairs to the dance floor. Jordan was not in sight. Normally he’s pretty easy to spot, he’s broad, tall and his blonde hair stands out a mile away. Not tonight. I made my way across to the bathrooms, fixing my hair and dress, freshening my breath before trying to make my way across the crowded dance floor. There were a lot of tall guys down here and I had problems seeing through the crowd. The bar area was packed three or four rows deep with people, so I gently tried to push through the hot crowd.

That’s when I saw him. Jordan. He was in the middle of the dance floor grinding with a girl with streaky brown and black hair, who was wearing the biggest grin on her plain face, her left arm covered in tattoos, wearing this ragged denim skirt and a see through top. She is the opposite of me, I thought bitterly. I watched, horrified as she leaned her head back, licking him his muscular neck, watching his hands run over her body, his eyes closed. I couldn’t stay and watch, I felt disgusted just knowing he’d been in my bed only twenty four hours earlier. Exclusive my arse.

I turned and stormed back towards the VIP section, not caring who I pushed out of the way, grabbing my purse from the table where Gina and Max sat coiled round one another. The tears threatened to fall as Gina looked up and saw my face.

“I have to go,” I said picking up my jacket and hurriedly putting it on. Gina grabbed my hand but I tugged my hand away, shaking my head as a tear rolled slowly down my cheek. I ran down the stairs, pushing my way through the crowd until I was out in the fresh air. This time there were no cameras. I hailed a cab. I wanted to go to sleep and get the hell away from Jordan.


Max was right – I was falling for him.

22. Saturday

Sorry this for the filler chapter but it's going somewhere. Once again this one will be in two parts, the second will be up tomorrow.

Also, please take a look at MelTing's story, here and let's get her some more followers because she deserves it.

As always I really appreciate any comments, please keep commenting - it's nice to know who's actually reading this. India :)


Song: Hanson - Thinking Bout Something


ELLA’S POV - PART ONE


Don’t you just love Saturday mornings? The feeling that you have a whole weekend ahead of you – two free days of nothingness = absolute bliss. As usual, Gina and I had taken refuge in the lounge, both hungover and still dressed in our pyjamas, with french toast and cups of tea. It had become something of a ritual over the last year to veg in the lounge and gossip. Usually Sophie was with us, but she had been spending more and more time with her dj boyfriend and now we rarely see her. Jordan had left early dragging himself to the arena – muttering something about a skates mix up and practice.

“So what are your plans for the rest of the weekend?” I said taking a sip of my huge mug of tea, stretched out on the sofa, admiring my pink toenails.

“Well, Max asked me to go for dinner tonight-” Gina started bashfully.

“Whoa, what did I miss out on last night?” I said sitting up, giving Gina my full attention. Her and Max - no way!She looked down at her knees as if she’d been caught doing the dirty before speaking up. “Max dropped me home last night and asked me out. You didn’t miss anything. And where did you sneak off to last night?”

So Gina had noticed. I hoped she hadn’t felt abandoned as I’d just left her in a flat full of hockey players and a cop stripper – not my smartest of moves.

“Um, we came back here. And we had sex, and then he said he loved me during sex. Gina, I’m so confused, no guy should say it during sex.” I picked at my French toast. I watched Gina’s eyes bulge before she swallowed and gave me her best advice.

“Honey, he likes you. That much is clear. And you were both so wasted last night neither of you could keep your hands off each other; I’m surprised you even remember. How was he this morning?”

“Hungover comme moi, and a little quiet. I think I’m going to pretend it didn’t happen, I mean it was during sex for god’s sake.”

Gina let out a long sigh. “At what point during sex?” Did we really have to go into this? She is my best friend and we share everything but some things aren’t necessary.

Gina gave me that look, the one that means 'You'll tell me sooner or later' and I knew I would. "When he came,” I said quietly. Gina sighed again, though I knew this one wasn’t a good sigh.

“And you like him?” I like him, but I don’t love him. I nodded.

“I do like him, but our relationship seems to be all physical and just built on sex. Though I'm not sure if I want the emotional and caring side of a relationship either. We have this ‘exclusivity’ thingy that he suggested, but then I said I didn’t want a boyfriend, and I don’t. It's the wrong time. But he just said it, and now I don’t know what to do. I can’t just forget it, I know we were both drunk, but I don’t want to bring it up either, he might remember, he might not, but we’re definitely not at that point yet. I just hope we’re still on the same page with this exclusivity thing. God, I can't even talk coherently today,” I muttered.

I did, I really hoped we were on the same page. I didn’t want a relationship, and I didn’t want anybody telling me they loved me. Admittedly it’s always nice to know that someone likes me, which is why I'm liking this exclusivity thing, Jordan worships my body in bed which puts a spring in my step. I need to know what Jordan wants from me and why he says it. It was probably just a slip up, not a Freudian slip I hope, we were caught up in the moment, that’s all.

“Ughhh,” I began running to the bathroom. I hugged the toilet bowl, praying to the porcelain gods. Hungover to the max – I’m never usually sick like this the morning after. But then I haven’t been drinking properly since before the incident, and before that – Spring Break which was over a month ago.

“You ok sweets,” Gina said, holding my hair back and rubbing my back. I shrugged my shoulders, still hunched over on my knees, throwing up the entire contents of my stomach, toast and all.

“It’s probably because you changed your medication, the doctor said you can’t drink very much now, and you and Jordan were going at it hard last night.”

Going at it hard last night? Did she hear? I looked up at her confused. “You, you heard?”

“No Ells, c’mon. I mean drinking. I’m surprised your blood hasn’t turned into tequila the way you were knocking them back last night.” I felt the bile rise in my thoat before leaning forward again to empty my stomach. I feel drained.

“I am never drinking again,” I said reaching for a tissue to wipe my mouth with.

“Famous last words,” Gina said, pulling me into a hug. “And I thought we were going to Diesel tonight? Max says we’re going after dinner.”

What? Who said anything about Diesel? I can’t even face alcohol right now, I don’t want to go to Diesel. And that's romantic of Max taking Ella to a club after dinner.

“You have to come,” Gina said. She’ll be wrapped around Max all evening, she doesn’t need me. And besides I haven’t spoken to Jordan about last night, I haven’t been invited out. I can’t play gooseberry and third wheel to Gina and Max.

“You’re coming, end of,” Gina said, “now take a shower. You smell of sex and sick.” What a winning combination.



I stood in the shower scrubbing every inch of me until I was red, letting the water take away every remaining bubble of shower gel, cleansing me of my sex and sick smell. I smothered myself in coconut moisturiser eradicating any trace of any other scents. I pulled my wet hair into a messy bun before getting dressed.

“Whoa, Jordan, what are you doing here? Don’t you have practice?” I was so surprised. I was looking like an absolute mess, wet hair, no make up, dressed in an old pair of ripped jeans and a tennis camp t-shirt and here was this blonde god sitting on my couch.

“I did this morning but I figured we could go get some lunch?” he said smiling. Lunch? Now?
“She’s just been sick, but she’ll go,” Gina answered for me giving me that ‘you’ll-thank-me-later’ smile.

“You ok?” he asked, getting off the couch and putting his big hands on my shoulders. I let out a little sigh before looking up at him.
“Fine, it’s because of the medication change. Give me five minutes to get ready,” I said giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek – not like one of those kisses from last night.

“OK, you sure?” he said looking me in the eyes, squinting to see that I was telling the truth. I flashed him a smile. I felt like shit but I could just get water and keep him company.

“Five minutes,” I stood on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Why is he here? He was pretty awkward when he left this morning and unusually quiet. Lunch can’t hurt. Now where is my mascara? I dabbed on some mascara and blush before grabbing my leather jacket, a scarf and some brown flat knee high boots. At least I looked slightly presentable now.


“You sure you’re OK,” he said after we had walked a couple of blocks. I’m fine, I really am. I just puked because I drank too much. It’s not like I’m dying of anything. This caring side of Jordan was really hot, almost as much as the horny passionate guy who'd rammed me up against the side of the lift last night. I nodded again, still feeling a bit weak, wondering where we were headed.

“Starbucks?” I said all too surprised.
“Thought you might want some carrot cake,” Jordan replied. After being sick? In fairness the fresh air was doing me some good but I wasn’t sure I could even face the thought of food yet, and it was Jordan who was going to be eating lunch, he needed something more than sandwiches I’m sure.

I shook my head, and led him down the street. “You need to eat more than Starbucks for lunch,” I offered, not knowing where I was leading him. “Chinese?” Jordan responded.

“Whatever,” I said, as Jordan took my hand and led me across the street.

Certainly McDonalds was not where I thought we were going to be headed. The smell made me feel nauseous but I did manage not to run to the bathroom and I even ended up ordering a banana milkshake.
“Let’s go eat somewhere else,” I said once Jordan had paid for his humongous cholesterol heart attack.


Wordlessly Jordan followed me outside walking to the end of 5th Avenue and into Point State Park. I hadn’t planned on coming here but it was a sunny day and it was quiet, even for a Saturday.

“You not hungry?” Jordan asked offering me some fries or some of his burger. I shook my head. The milkshake was a good lining on my stomach and I didn’t feel like food right now. He pulled me closer to him on the bench as there was a cool breeze.

“We’re going to Diesel tonight, you should come,” Jordan said staring absentmindedly at the grass in front of us. He wasn’t making it sound like he really wanted me there. Was he just asking me because he wanted me there or was he trying to be casual and play it down. He wouldn't ask if he didn't want me to go? I figured there was only one way to find out.

“Sure, I’ll see you there,” I replied, giving him a kiss. I’ll find out what he wants later.

21. Three Words

Thank you for all your comments, please keep them coming!


Song:The Source ft. Candi Staton - You've Got the Love


JORDAN’S POV – PART TWO


I pulled Ella closer to me, wondering who the fuck had just invited strippers into my apartment. Sid had slinked off home, but I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that – he’s not as innocent and pure as everyone likes to make out. In fact, Sid’s innocent public persona is a complete contrast to what he’s like in private.

“Why is there a female police officer here?” Ella asked, looking at me bewildered. How was I supposed to know? I shook my head, and pulled Ella down with me onto the ottoman. By the looks of it, it wasn’t strippers – it was a stripper, who was here for TK, and knowing I hadn’t made the phone call – it had to be Max. Who else had a strippers on speed dial?

I was torn in two. Part of me wanted to stay and watch the stripper, the other part of me wanted to screw Ella senseless. There is something about watching a woman get naked that no man can refuse – no matter how degrading the situation. And strippers or lap dancers or whatever you want to call them have a certain unobtainable allure. TK looked deliriously drunk as Max led him to a chair in the middle of the lounge, as the police officer played with the handcuffs, locking TK to the chair.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kelsey make her way to the bathroom, excusing herself not wanting to watch her boyfriend get a lap dance. After seeing Kelsey look so pale, I wondered if Ella would want to stay and watch the stripper or go somewhere else. She was watching, with a mild fascination on her face.

I looked across to my huge couch where Geno was stretched out with his eyes half open, his bottle of vodka in his hand and an empty shot glass in the other. Vero was sitting next to Flower looking her usual perfect self. Flower looked amused and slightly embarrassed to be in the same room as a stripper. He’d never joined in with mine and Max’s outings to Blush - the outings that had gotten us into trouble with Mario and Pens PR…

“You OK?” I asked, resting my chin on the top of her head.

“Yeah,” she said snapping back into the real world. “I’m just trying to understand why girls do that – my brother’s dating a stripper…” she mused.

Good for him. And she had a brother or brothers? Uh oh. Though I’m not sure I’d want my girlfriend dancing naked, straddling strangers for a living. If Ella did that… well, I don’t know what I’d do.

“Shall we go some place else? Or you wanna stay and watch?” I asked, kissing the top of her head, massaging her back and running one hand down her side and into the top of her jeans.

“Someone will see,” she whispered pulling on my wrist but not removing my hand, “but we could go back to mine?” Ella asked. I was in no state to drive, so I called a taxi, whilst Ella went to talk to Kelsey. Max was still cheering on the stripper cop as she danced around in her underwear and a police hat. I could see Vero trying not to laugh – it was probably the funniest striptease I’ve ever seen, and she was hardly attractive. She had nothing on Ella.


Her building was within walking distance from my apartment – we could have walked, but knowing the state I was in, it could have taken some time. As soon as we got in the lift, I couldn’t hold back – I pushed her up against the wall, accidentally pushing the buttons meaning that we’d stop at every floor. Her hands raked through my hair, pulling at the side of my face, as my hand travelled up under her top. Ella’s kisses became more urgent as she bit my bottom lip before flicking her tongue across my lips, before tearing her teeth down my neck. I picked her up so she was straddling me, holding her against the wall, as she searched for her door key.

I kicked the door closed with my ankle, pausing in the hallway as to which direction to go in. Her place is as nice as mine. Focus, which one’s her room? Ella pointed in the direction of a door across the far side of the apartment. Shoving it open, I made my way to the bed, laying Ella down, removing her clothes. I could feel my cock growing hard in my boxers and I made myself focus on the disgusting stripper’s ass and TK’s drunken grin.

“Jordan,” Ella moaned, as one hand slid down into her jeans, as she lay there, eyes half closed. All thoughts flew out of my head as I watched her unable to take my eyes off her. I swallowed wondering what she was trying to do to me. I had never seen a girl touch herself before, well not like this. I stood there mesmerised by what she was doing to me. One eye flicked open,

“Are you going to help me?” she breathed. Did I need any encouragement? I stepped out of my jeans, and knelt in front of her bed, slowly undoing the zipper on her pants, revealing see through black knickers. Sliding the jeans off her legs, I slowly worked my way up her legs, kissing her smooth skin and sucking gently. The skin of her inner thighs was as soft as silk, as I gently kissed the crotch of her panties, running my fingers along the edge of it, before drawing it to one side. I kissed her outer lips, blowing gently against her clit. I could feel how hot and wet she was, her body inviting me inside.

“Touch me here,” Ella said guiding my hand towards her clit and rubbing it with my hand. She threw her head back, arching her back as I kissed her, my tongue slipping in and out, lapping up her juices. I drew a finger inside, watching Ella’s face grin before her eyes flickered closed, biting her bottom lip before shuddering and letting out a scream. “I want you,” she moaned, pushing herself harder onto my finger and off again. I pulled my top off, and angrily tore down my boxers before sticking my throbbing dick inside her, letting out a groan as I collapsed on top of her.

“Elllaaaaaaa,” I sighed, lifting her up on top of me, as she gradually reclined on top of my erect prick, letting me feel how wet and tight she was. She leaned forwards, rubbing herself against my stomach, kissing my neck forcefully as she slowly moved backwards, running her hands down my chest, kissing every inch of me. I started to move my pelvis making her move faster, watching her perfect chest bob up and down, her nipples hard as rocks.

“Make love to me,” she whispered in my ear, kissing my ear. I turned on my side, making sure not to crush her, placing one of her legs in between mine as I ran my fingers through her hair, holding her closer as we grinded together. I could hear her heart hammering in her chest next to mine as sweat trickled down our bodies, as our rhythm grew quicker and our grunting got louder. I could feel her walls clasping down around me as I started seeing stars as I got closer to the dizzy end. Ella pulled me out, moving down to lick my wet cock, tugging it once, twice, before moving back up as I splashed across her breasts and stomach. “I love, you,” I screamed. Fuck.

Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that – I really like Ella, but it’s too soon. And we're not even in a relationship, just this middle of the road 'exclusivity' thing. Fuck.I kissed her neck through the mass of hair, pulling her closer to me as I lay panting face down on the bed. I’m so embarrassed right now. What guy says I love you during sex? It doesn't count during sex, right?

20. Vodka Punch

Please keep the comments coming, I love knowing your reactions, and constructive criticism is very, very welcome.

This one is in two parts - the second part should be up by tomorrow.

Song: The Magic Numbers - Mornings Eleven


JORDAN’S POV - PART ONE


After an exhausting eight days on the road and a successful Western conference visit with five victories in the bag our team spirit was high and we were all looking forward to getting back to Pittsburgh. To celebrate, I’d decided to throw a massive party at mine.

“Dude, I’ve decided to move out,” TK said, flopping down in the seat next to me. About fucking time... But who’s gonna help me throw post-road trip or home game parties?
“Kelsey asked me to move in with her, since I’m practically living there.”

“Yeah, that’s great man,” I said punching him in the arm. TK grinned and nodded like one of those stupid nodding dogs. I'd miss having him around the apartment but it was the next step in his relationship and TK and Kelsey have been together for ages.

“I’ll help you out with the party, is that chick coming?” Ella. I hope so. I nodded my thanks, taking out my phone and texting her.

“Party at mine at 8.30 tonight. Bring Gina. Miss you X”

I shouldn’t have said I missed her, too clingy, but it was too late now, it had been sent. We’d spoken or texted every day since I’d been away which was a bit strange at first but I did kind of like it. And she was hot. And the sex was phenomenal. I still couldn’t help but wonder if she was a puck bunny – God only knows how many PBs I’ve gone through, but there was something about her I couldn’t put my large finger on.

“You come meet Alyonka with me?” Geno asked from across the aisle, snapping me out of my thoughts. I frowned. Why would I want to meet that stupid Alyonka - the world’s most incoherent reporter? Sid and I can’t stand her.

“Why Geno?” What the fuck would I want with her anyway? Been there done that. One drunken night. Dumb question Geno. Anyway, I heard she was with Ovie now. That sounds about right - Ovie taking Geno's leftovers.

“Come cook Russian food.” No, just no. Geno’s cooking isn’t acceptable in a third world country – what makes him think I want to eat it. I knew Mr. Nice Guy would probably agree to it – he always agrees to things.
“Go ask Tanger,” I watched Geno’s retreating back head forward a few rows before turning back to TK and tonight’s party. It was going to be epic seeing as it would also be TK’s last as a co-host in my apartment. This one had to be better, noisier and wilder than the last one. That in itself was going to be hard to achieve – my parties are legendary. Ella would be here for this one, so I had to make it extra good, you know, to impress her.

“Supermarket for beer, tequila, limes, lemon and punch, clean apartment, nap time, order pizza, PARTY,” TK said out loud, listing off what we needed to do before tonight as I drove my car back towards our apartment block.

“Man why are we cleaning before we party? Shouldn’t be do that after?” Sometimes TK makes no sense at all. I question his ability as a man, and at times my friend, though he always has my back.

TK shook his head at me disapprovingly. “You want to impress this chick? You clean before so she thinks you’re domesticated. Dude, do I really have to tell you?” TK looked at me as if I had a giant bogey hanging out of my nose. Maybe I should listen to him – he is the one in the serious relationship.


Fifteen crates of beer, a well stocked fridge and ten bottles of tequila later, I retreated to my bedroom leaving TK to clean up. If he had insisted on cleaning beforehand, he can do it. The apartment looked good – the large smoke cannon in one corner of the living room with the green flashy light system, I’d made the breakfast bar into a temporary bar. We’d brought a huge plant pot to serve as the punch bowl; TK had brought some gay, long, neon straws for it, and all that was left was for me to get ready. The place looked good. I know I don’t have to worry about the neighbours, if there’s a problem I’ll just invite them in, and the lady who lives in the other apartment on my floor is deaf so she’s not missing out.

TK had done a pretty good job of cleaning; everything shone and looked too clean. About as clean as when I first bought the apartment, which was a while ago now. I leaned back against the island as TK came running into the kitchen, skidding to a halt in his socks on the wooden floor, just before he crashed into one of the stools.
“Punch!” he shouted. Shit, how could we forget to make the punch?

Together we poured cartons of orange and cranberry juice into the huge pot, before adding a few litres of vodka and Malibu. Hopefully Geno wouldn’t notice we’d used cheap vodka and not Russian Standard like last time. TK got a whisk out to mix the punch together. Who uses a whisk?



“Hey Ella,” I said opening the door. She looked h-o-t. She was wearing skinny jeans which only emphasised her incredibly long, skinny legs and this pretty navy blue top which hung elegantly from her frame. Her hair looked messy, as if she’d just had crazy sex, and I was dying to run my hands through it. Standing just beside her was Gina, whom I hadn’t seen since the hospital. I grinned, letting them both into the apartment, giving Ella a lingering kiss on the cheek. She always smelt so good, like exotic fruits and spring flowers. I’m looking forward to my bed smelling that good later, I thought, closing the door after Max was entered. Why was he here early again? Max always turns up late

“Max, TK, I want you to meet Ella and Gina,” I introduced them. Gina took a seat at the bar, and started pouring out the punch into glasses for us.

“Ahh, enchanté,” Max said as he kissed Ella on both cheeks. I grimaced, I hadn’t even kissed her twice yet and he’d already just done that. Anyhow it’s not like he would ever get any closer to Ella.

“Ella’s from Montreal,” I said to Max whose smile grew even bigger.

“Ehhh… Me Too. Quelle coïncidence? Didn’t I tell you Montreal women are the most beautiful in the world?” he said looking between me and TK, giving Ella his trademark wink.

“Shame the same can’t be said about Montréal men,” Ella replied coolly, taking a sip of her punch. Ella 1 – Max 0. I love girls taking Max down. TK let out a insane cackle of laughter causing Max to hit him in the stomach as he doubled over, winded.

After checking that everyone had a drink, I led Ella away to the couch, pulling her down next to me. I wanted to get her alone, away from Max’s eager glance, leaving TK and Max to entertain Gina. I wanted a repeat of the last time she was here. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her and my hands were itching to touch her. Effectively she was my personal magnet, drawing me closer whenever she was in the room. I pulled her onto my lap, one arm around her waist and the other on her leg. “Jordannnn,” she breathed as I began kissing her neck, as she sat on my lap. I felt the vibrations in her throat when she spoke, wondering what it’d be like to have the same vibrations around my cock. I haven’t seen her for eight days, I want her, and she looks fucking incredible tonight.

“Can we send people home?” I asked, looking around at Max, TK and Gina. Max was trying to charm the pants of Gina as they both sat at the bar together whilst TK tried to make himself invisible by the fridge. They probably wouldn’t notice if we disappeared for half an hour or so.

“No, later. You’re throwing a party… and besides, I want to meet your friends,” she whispered, running a long finger down my arm, sending shivers down my spine. My friends are my teammates. She turned her neck, giving me a long kiss on the lips before freeing herself from my grasp, tugging my hands to get me to stand up. Only I couldn’t… I grabbed the cushion next to me, knowing it’d have to be at least thirty seconds before I stood up. I watched Ella joke with TK, seeing how natural she seemed around my friends. Max was wrong – she was about as far from puck bunny as possible. She didn’t have a clue about hockey but didn’t feel that she had to pretend to which was refreshing.

Gina and Max seemed to be hitting it off. Max needed to talk to ‘normal’ girls who weren’t just interested in having ‘the superstar treatment’ as he put it nor the seemingly endless groups of girls who threw themselves at him.

“PARTYYYYYY!” I cried, holding my cup of punch in the air as Kelsey, Flower, Vero, Sid and Geno arrived. I heard Max whoop loudly behind me, as he downed his drink before cranking the music up, and dragging Ella and Gina off to the dance floor in the lounge.

“You got her,” Geno said quietly to me gesturing to Ella, as he slipped a bottle of ‘proper’ Russian vodka out of his coat pocket. Trust him to bring the ‘real deal’.
I nodded. “Yeah, she’s great, you should meet her,” I said before Geno went off to join the dancing. I had a feeling tonight was going to be good.


Everyone was trashed, me included. No one looked remotely sober, not even el Sid. I couldn’t keep my eyes off Ella who had been dancing with Geno and Tanger whilst I manned the bar with Sid who was trying (and failing) to match my drinking. The last thing I need is to send le capitain home to Mario’s in a taxi. Normally I hate ending people’s fun, but I wanted everyone out of there so I could spend some time with Ella.

“Gronk, go and dance with her, I’ll stay here,” Sid said tiredly watching me. I didn’t need any encouragement as I bounded over to the dance floor and wrapped my hands around her waist. She grinned, and turned her back on me as we began to dance, dancing and grinding against each other, slowing moving away into the corner.

“Can we throw everyone out now?” I asked with my back to everyone, pressing Ella into the wall. I was captivated by her deep, green eyes and knew I was staring. She just had that effect on me. She shook her head.

“It’s only half eleven,” she said, not breaking eye contact with me, slowly licking her lips. Why did she just do that? What chance do I have now? I pressed my lips against hers as she stood on tip toes to string her hands around the back of my neck.

I could hear Max yelling wildly... "Strippers!" he shouted.
Strippers?! Who the fuck called for strippers?!

19. Cheesecake

Song: Death Cab for Cutie - Marching Bands of Manhattan


ELLA'S POV


Plane rides are never fun. I should know. I fly frequently enough, between Montreal, Pittsburgh, New York and St. Bart’s. So by now I should have adjusted to this travelling boredom, but travelling alone is different. It's no fun. There's only so much you can do. Despite endless Sudoku puzzles, in flight entertainment, iPod, laptop and countless magazines, nothing takes away the boredom of flying toute seule. People watching is always good; when Felix and I were younger we always used to try and guess where people were going, what they did for a living, their lives etc. But now there’s only so long you can stare at the same people on the same flight as you without drawing attention to the fact you're staring at them.

However I’m on my way to New York, my second home, and second favourite city after Montréal to see my best friend, my twin brother, Felix. The last time I saw him was Christmas which is a horrible thought. We’re really close and throughout high school and cegep we stuck together, we were never separated. University was the first thing that has separated us.

I found my dad’s car parked outside of the arrivals building, ready to take me to the house. My father spends five days of the week in the city and flies back home to Montréal for the weekends when he can. My mother would never consider living in another city other than Montréal, she is French Canadian and incredibly proud of it. Whereas my father cannot move away from his work here. He runs a large investment bank in the city and spends most of his time on the phone or in board meetings. Even when he ventures back to Montréal, he brings work with him.

I looked out of the window as we drove north, taking in the packed sidewalks, happy to be home and see my family. I’ve always been ‘Daddy’s girl’ - much closer to my father than my distant mother. Admittedly I grew up in Montréal, went to school there and visited my father in New York or when he came back to Québec. But my mother, the professional therapist was always psychoanalysing my every move. My parents’ marriage had broken down a long time ago, my mother choosing her boy toy Henri who conveniently lived in the same area. He even came with us on family holidays even last Christmas when we were in the Caribbean.

We drove along the edge of the park as I watched all the tourists, the snap happy Japanese taking pictures of everything, squirrels, pigeons, clouds; the young lovers ambling along side by side, hand in hand; families with young children off to Central Park Zoo; the old couple enjoying each others’ silent company, side by side on a bench. Montréal is and always will be my home, but there is something so electric about this city that continues to draw me back to it.


“ELLA!” Felix bounded across the sidewalk and opened the door, pulling me into an enormous bear hug.
“Tu me manques,” he said, taking my bag out of my hands as we walked into the cool entrance of the townhouse. I grinned back, knowing that I’d missed my brother.
“Toi aussi,” I said, giving him a gentle push on the arm. I opened the fridge and pulled out a ginger beer, before opening the door to the terrace at the back. “God, I missed it here,” I breathed admiring the greenery and shrubs in the garden. Felix grabbed a beer before joining me, telling me that Zach had just proposed to Marissa. I was so happy for them both, he had finally grown the balls to do it, and she was going to be over the moon.

“Comment va la vie à Montréal?” I said, taking a swig of my drink.

“Bien,” Felix replied grinning. “School is good, lots of fun. New experiences, love working at the hospital. Cedric and Guillaume say hi. And... I met a girl.” Finally. My brother had finally met a girl in the city. At school and cegep he’d had girls fawning all over him, but no one steady. Well no one he had been with for longer than a month or two. He had been a bit of a player.

“Dis-moi,” I said, as he smirked. “Est-elle ta blonde?”

Felix shook his head. So, he liked this girl, but she wasn’t his girlfriend. Kind of like me and Jordan, I guess. He looked down at his knees, and then took another swig of his beer.

“No, she’s not. I want her to be, but I don’t know. C’est difficile. La, je sais pas. Her name’s Rosalie. I like her…” Felix sounded like he was hesitating. He was rubbing his neck. He only did that when he was really nervous and agitated. What was it? He has never had problems with girls. Something must be up.

“Felix, what’s the problem?” I asked, knowing he was leaving something out.

“She’s a... a private dancer.” Wow, didn’t see that one coming. I nodded. That was a bit of a surprise, not gonna lie. I nodded. I didn’t want him to think he didn’t have my support. By the looks of it he’d already fallen hard for her.

“And where did you meet Rosalie?” Honestly I didn’t want to know the answer, but I couldn’t just leave the issue. I knew Dad would not be impressed if Felix told him he was dating a lap dancer. Our parents had brought us up not to do things like that.

“Club 281.” Jesus. That was bad. Club 281 was one of rue St. Catherine’s more notorious strip joints. Still he looked like he really liked her. She must already have a hold on him.

I laughed not knowing what else to do. “Mom would kill you if she knew you’d fallen for a stripper. She'd probably give you some of her psychobabble bull, and then publish the episode in her latest bestselling, self-help guru guide.” Felix grinned sheepishly, looking at the ground, probably hoping the cracks in the patio would swallow him up. So I tried to give him some nice sisterly advice, “And stop going to the club and paying for private dances - if she really likes you and not just your money, she’ll make an effort to see you outside of her, erm, work.”

Felix nodded, downing the rest of his beer. “Let’s go and be tourists. Cheesecake?” he replied, once I had finished my drink. I agreed. Dad wouldn’t be home until late and the stock markets had closed for the day and then we could celebrate Easter together as a family.


Song: Paloma Faith - New York


I know it’s a tourist trap, but Juniors off Times Square, in my humble opinion, does the best cheesecake I have ever tasted. Raspberry swirl is my guilty pleasure and we normally get a whole cheesecake to take away, because Dad never gets the time to go to these places and I know he loves Juniors too. Felix and I used to pretend to be arty and hang out in Brooklyn, but Manhattan is and always will be our neighbourhood préféré. And besides, no cheesecake in Brooklyn is in the same league to Juniors.

We caught the subway, something Dad is very against us doing, particularly when he has a car and a driver, but we do it in Montréal, and we do it here, when he’s not here to tell us not to. Besides, we’re both twenty one now, it’s not like we’re twelve anymore. Having said that, I wouldn’t dream of taking the subway at night, even if I know the city like the back of my hand.

My blackberry beeped in my purse. I glanced at the caller id seeing Jordan calling. I’d only seen him yesterday, but I did kind of miss him. And the sex had been, well incroyable.

“Hey you,” I said smiling, glad he couldn't see me grinning my face off. “Yes, you too, I’ll be back on Tuesday, so see you then… OK… when you get back then… it’s good… just going for cheesecake… OK… bye…” Still a bit awkward on the phone. And he hadn’t said he was going on an eight day road trip. Well I needed to focus on work when I got back anyway so it’s not like I’m going to miss him for the three days I’m in Pitt when he isn’t.

“So, now I’ve told you about Rosalie,” Felix began taking a bite of his chocolate fudgey cheesecake, “is there a man in yours? Any native Pittsburghers? And the way you answered your phone tells me that that person wasn’t just Gina or Soph…” I looked down at my cheesecake. I couldn’t even be subtle any more. God Ella, pull yourself together!

“There is, isn’t there?” Felix probed, pointing his fork at me, his mouth full of chocolate cheesecake.

“Umm yes. I met him on Spring Break. And he lives in Pitt, and he didn’t tell me. I had a bit of a shock. He plays hockey…”

“He’s a Penguin?” Felix interrupted. I could tell he was anxious if I was dating a Penguin, and intrigued all the same. Felix is a huge hockey fan, season tickets to Habs games so I'm sure he's probably heard of Jordan.

“Yep, Jordan. Jordan Staal.” Let's see how Felix reacts to this...

“Holy shit! Câlice, Jordan STAAL?!!!!”

“Felix!” I said. I knew the people around us wouldn’t understand but still swearing in Quebecoise annoyed me, even being so far away from Québec. I hated Felix swearing. And me dating a Penguin wasn’t that big a deal was it?

“Sorry. So? Should I be worried that my little sis is going out with one of the Staal brothers?”

“Felix, I’m hardly little. I’m 5’8, and younger than you by fifteen minutes. And wait, Staal brothers?” Jordan had never mentioned that he had brothers. I could only pray that they are all as good looking as he is.

“There’s four of them, Ells. So are you together?”

The million dollar question. The question that means commitment. The question I didn't know the answer to.

“Exclusive,” I said.

Felix frowned. He didn't like it. Felix's opinion has always mattered so much more than everyone else's opinion - well apart from Gina's opinion. He is my best friend, my brother and confidant, so I was a little nervous for what he was going to say. “That sounds like a short deal. Does Zach know?”

“Nope, I don’t think so. It’s not important, and I like him, but as you know, the last thing I need is a boyfriend before I graduate, with tennis and interviews for internships and jobs on top of everything.”

“I think you should go for it,” Felix said.

“Just like that?” I said, finishing off my cheesecake. God, I’d relocate to New York just for this cheesecake. Felix never did things on a whim which is I was a little surprised he'd told me to go for it. I was the one who jumped into things head first. He was the cautious one, the one who always thought things through, weighing up the consequences of his actions, the one who thought before he spoke. Oh how the tables had turned – he was the one now seeing a stripper, and I was the cautious one, putting distance and time into a relationship.

I raised my eyebrows at him, trying to suss out what he meant. Reading Felix is like reading a children’s book. It’s easy, well it is for me. I know his moves. But we're pretty similar even if he is a guy, we're twins after all.

“Ells, if he likes you, go for it. If you like him, go for it. Life is too short, and in Pittsburgh there are THOUSANDS of jersey chasers, puck bunnies, girls who are looking to sleep with a player. Life is too short. And the important thing is: how does he make you feel?”

I zoned out, thinking back to last night, the first time I met him, the time in the Mellon when I had run into him, how he had made me feel each time – he made me feel amazing, his touch, the way he looked at me, the way he kissed me. Clearly it was something new, so I didn’t know too much about where this was going, or where he or I wanted it to go, but I liked the way I felt when I was around him. And I liked his body. Oh, that body…

“Ella, Ella?” Felix called, waving a menu in front of my face. “I think I know how he makes you feel. C’mon, let’s get out of here. Let's go catch a show, how about La Cage aux Folles or Sondheim on Sondheim, or let's go to the Guggenheim and then go home, ouais?”

“Sounds fabulous,” I said, paying the bill. Mon dieu Manhattan, je t'aime.

18. Puck Bunny

Song: 3OH3! - Don't Trust Me


JORDAN'S POV


Why did women always do that? Have sex and then run away? I’m not averse to a little cuddling or spooning in the morning. She’d practically ran out this morning after we’d had that conversation, though I’m pretty sure we’re still in limbo land. Sure we’d decided to be exclusive but the short trip back to hers had been awkwardly quiet, with her promising to call me soon, when she was in Pitt. I felt like I’d finally bridged the gap to her, only for her to run away, literally, to New York.

As I got in the shower, I realised that I still didn’t feel like I knew her. All those simple things such as does she have siblings, what do her parents do, her favourite colour, meal, is she allergic to anything? I know about the epilepsy, that her cousin’s Zach Parise, she’s from Montreal so she probably speaks some French too, she has her belly button pierced and she prefers tequila. For a girl I’m supposed to be exclusive with, it’s lame. I got into the shower, thinking about her body and when I’d next see her. We were going on an eight day west coast trip so perhaps sometime when I got back. I could do eight days without sex. I wondered why I was taking a shower before going to practise, only to take another one afterwards. Really not thinking today - the sex had been that good.


“JORDY! DID YOU GET LAID?!?!?! JORDY GOT LAID!” I could hear Max bellowing as I entered the locker room. Great, just about everyone in the igloo and downtown Pittsburgh can probably hear him. I dumped my bag down in my stall, trying to keep a low profile. I could see TK and Sid smirking at me. One of them got laid constantly so I don’t know why he was smirking; Sid, well, he might as well be a priest with a vow of celibacy if you knew how infrequently he gets any.

After making what I thought was a sweet escape to the ice, I found TK right behind me. I knew he was gonna press me for information, so I might as well tire him out before he starts asking questions. I set off round the rink at a fast pace, flicking the puck around the edge of my stick as I went. I could hear TK just behind me telling me to slow down before out of nowhere a stick came out, almost causing me to trip. I heard his stupid grin before skidding to a halt, causing flecks of ice to fly.

“So?” TK asked. As if I was just going to tell him like that?! I gave a non-committal jerk of the head, the one that means, y’kno’, but wasn’t going to let any more slip.

“Lola?” Are you kidding me? That skank? I whacked him on the legs with my stick and shook my head before heading back to rejoin the others at centre ice.

“Here comes Casanova,” Max yelled. Awesome, let Yeo and Byls know too - just what I need. I glared at Max.

“How was Ellie?”

“-Ella,” TK interjected.

“Yeah Ella, whatever. So did she fall for your cooking skills? Or lack of?”

“You cooked?” TK asked, looking at me.

“Yeah what abou-” I began as Max cut me off.

“You seeing her again?”

“Any more texts?” TK added.

Why do I hang out with these guys again?

“Are you sure she’s not a puck bunny? She’s hot, but you never know, she might have been taking pics of your place and put them online,” Max said, putting my hand on my shoulder. What? I’m pretty sure she’s not a puck bunny considering who her cousin is. And I don’t remember a camera. She’s never been to a hockey game, and she had no idea I even played in the NHL until she saw me running around in the corridor. She’s as far from puck bunny as you can possibly get.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” I said, splashing water on my face. “Parise is her cousin.”
At this Max’s eyes almost popped out, as he choked back on his mouthguard. I gave him a little push and nodded.

“Does, does he know?” Max said quietly, getting a little closer. Max is rarely speechless. It happened so infrequently – he was always there, ready to give his opinion on everything under the sun, that I had previously thought pigs might fly. No, he doesn’t no, and before you tell everyone I don’t want the whole Devils team against me next time we meet if I fuck up with Ella. I shook my head.

“Staalsie, you’re quiet today. Did a birdie get your tongue?” Dupers asked.

“Hah! Good one! Ha ha ha, more like a bird, a chick,” Max said high-fiving Dupuis, before slapping me hard on the back. Thanks again Max. Revenge would be sweet, and it’s not like Max wasn’t going to sleep with someone this week, I’d just make sure TK and I got him then. TK was supposed to be on my side – we live together.

“So when do we get to meet her,” TK said, flicking an idle puck away from my left skate as I leaned on my stick.

“I don’t know, she’s in New York,” I muttered. They were still getting too much information.

“Dude, you can’t have been any good last night. She’s clearly moving onto your bro, or Avery,” Max said. As if any girl would willingly sign up for a night with Sean Avery. He looks like he should be in Lock Stock or something, not hockey. And as my brother had informed me, Sean Avery did not have any problems with the ladies, like me, as they were implying.

“STAAL! Suicides, NOW!” Yeo shouted over me. “Get your womanising ass into gear!”
What the hell, I thought, as I sprinted off. Even Max and Tanger don’t get suicides the morning after… And I hadn’t been bragging about getting laid either like Max does. He always goes in too much detail, underwear, positions…

I pushed my body harder, my skates crunching across the smooth ice as fire burned through my quads. I gave a short burst of acceleration before turning quickly, keeping low as I dashed back across the ice. Max and TK were going to pay for this later. Something, anything to get back at them. I thought about messing with their kit bags but that was too obvious. Max isn’t too superstitious, but I know TK is. For Max I’d have to do something with his clothes – he’s way too fussy with them.

How much longer was I going to have to do this for? My legs were beginning to ache, but I wasn’t sure how many more suicides I could take. I glanced at the clock. I’d been doing this for close to thirty minutes – perhaps a season record for anyone on the team. I know I’d got laid last night, but it wasn’t like I’d let the team down. I’d come to an optional practice, and they were making me do suicides for getting laid. Next time, I’m skipping the optional practice.

“STAAL, stop carving up the ice and go home. Get your useless body back to your woman!” Coach Bylsma called. Fuck. That is not a great sign. When top dog steps in and tells you to go home, it’s not a good sign. Either that or they thought they’d get rid of me as scapegoat to make practice easier. Why was Max even here today? He never made optional practices… Is he here just to piss me off? I wouldn’t put it past him.

I stalked back to the dressing room, pissed that I was being sent home and wasn’t going to get a chance to hang with the team and annoyed I now had an empty day. Slipping off my skates, I glanced at TK’s stall next to mine. He’d left his socks out on the bench. Big mistake. I grabbed his clothes, dropping one item at a time, making a trail of clothes leading to the showers, before returning to Max’s stall. I discreetly cut a hole on the inside of his pockets, knowing anything he put in them would straight down his trouser legs. I wasn’t done yet. I got Tanger’s skates and swapped them with TK’s spares and Max’s so they were all mixed around together. That’ll do for now, I thought as I grabbed my hat on my way out.

Max’s words echoed in my mind: “Are you sure she’s not a puck bunny?” I’m ninety nine percent sure. She wasn’t clingy, she didn’t call me for days on end, and she had no idea who Max Talbot was. That, in itself was a good sign. If she’d lived in Pittsburgh for three years and she still didn’t recognise me or Max, she couldn’t be interested in hockey. Either that or she was a good actress and she’d fooled me.

Puck bunnies are usually interested in getting to Sid or Geno. So far she hadn’t mentioned either. The only hockey player she seemed to know was her cousin, Zach fucking Parise, New Jersey’s golden boy. She was well dressed, her hair was in good condition; flawless skin, Chanel purse, expensive underwear and nice shoes. Everything about her screamed high maintenance yet her attitude was down to earth and normal. She reminded me of a girl I knew back in Thunder Bay, only hotter. I wasn’t sure what to make of her. Hell I barely know her but I know I like her. And after sex like that, one of the best in my life, probably top three, I definitely wanted to see her again, which is why I asked for exclusivity. I didn’t want any other guy getting in on that, especially Noah. I’d call her tonight. Technically I shouldn’t, I mean, when a girl says she’ll call you, you let them do it, but it’d be eight days until we were back in the same city.

Since when did I get this sensitive and insecure?

17. Exclusive

Thank you so much for all the positive feedback last time - absolutely LOVED IT! Thanks guys. OK so as promised here is 17 - sorry it's a little on the short side but I finally feel like I've finally got my writing mojo back so here goes... Hope you all had a brilliant Easter. I'm not 100% sure about the song choice for this one, especially after a questionable one last time (Jizz in my pants anyone?)... anyways let me know your thoughts at the end, and song suggestions (I probably will change it) for this inSTAALment (thank you Rebelheart 87). India xxx


ELLA'S POV


Song: Daft Punk - Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger


He pulled the wine glass out of my hand, setting it on the table. With one quick movement he pulled me into him, my mouth pressing down on his. I heard myself give a little gasp as his hands ran through my hair.

His kiss was urgent and full of need. His tongue snaked across my lips, begging for entry, as I let it in, my own tongue toying with his. I could my heart beating harder as Jordan ran one hand up my legs, pushing harder against my stockings until he reached the bottom of my skirt. All of a sudden his hands stopped and the kiss was broken.

I frowned. Why did he stop? “You’re cute when you frown, but you look hotter when you smile,” Jordan said, kissing my forehead. Why had he just broken the kiss off?

“I wanted to ask if this is ok?” I nodded. It was better than ok.

“Are we ok?” Jordan asked again, his hands around my waist.

What a loaded question. Is there a we? I don’t know. I did know that I did want there to be an us, a we, a whatever this thing we’re doing. Too much thinking. Shut up and screw me.

“I think so,” I said, biting my lip, giving him the power to continue. Jordan immediately lowered his head down to kiss my bottom lip.

“I hate it when you do that, that lip thing,” he practically growled. I’ll do it more often if it means I get more kisses like that.

Jordan grinned and brought his lips back down to mine. His hands laced around my waist, as one hand began to move across my back and down as his hands slid over my butt before picking me up as if I weighed nothing, leading me away from the sofa. He pushed me hard up against the wall in the hall, my back slamming against it on contact. I was too drunk on lust to notice. His hands gripped my hips as I tried to get his shirt off, ripping it when I couldn’t get it off quick enough. My dress hunched up around my waist as I could feel him rubbing against the top of my thigh.

His lips grazed my neck, sucking, nibbling, marking me as his. He could mark me for all I cared right now - I didn’t want him to stop. His lips and the beginning of his stubble gently grazed my neck. I groaned, running a hand through his hair and down his neck, tugging on his hair, as his hands roamed upwards underneath my dress, pulling it over my head, as he quickly flicked my bra open, his hands pinching my hard nipples under the lace, before dragging me into his bedroom. Not that I needed to be dragged, but him being in complete control was more than doing it for me now.
He threw me hard onto the bed, kneeling between my thighs as he tore my dress off, his hands travelled up my legs, his eyes glazed over with lust. I playfully unzipped Jordan’s jeans, before admiring the way his arm muscles worked, sliding them down as he shed them on the floor. He pushed me back on the bed and began to kiss my inner thighs. He spread me open, pulling down my underwear as he teasingly played with me. I quivered when I felt his breath against my lips.He hesitated until I was ready to explode. At last he used his tongue, urgently licking my swollen clit as he eased two fingers in and out. In and out. I could feel my walls clamp around him, my stomach fluttering.

“Jordan…” I moaned, my hands tugging in his hair. Hearing me call his name urged him on - I could see his long aching dick straining against the cotton of his boxer briefs. I wouldn’t, no, couldn’t wait any longer.
“Fuck me!” I half screamed, as he slowly sucked my clit, his lips rubbing hard around it, his left hand on my thigh, applying pressure, sending shockwaves up my thigh.

“You have to say please,” he said through gritted teeth, giving me a fierce look with those ice blue eyes. That look that made me tingle and breathless all at once. Nice girls are supposed to be polite, I know but I was positively dripping now, and I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out for him.

“Now! Jordannnn - please” I groaned trying not to forget my manners, my eyes fluttering closed as he plunged three fingers inside of me, his thumb still teasing my clit, pushing it down and around in a figure of eight, as his fingers played inside me. I gasped, arching my back as a wave of pleasure over took me, my shoulders shuddering. He slowly pulled his fingers out to peel on a condom before slamming his dick hard inside me.

I could feel him shudder as he let out a feral howl. The muscles in his shoulders tensed as he held himself up above me before he plunged into me again, harder, needier than before. I wrapped my legs around his lower back, drawing him deeper as he groaned into the nape of my neck. He pulled out just as I was about to go over the edge, before bringing me to the brink again and pushing back in, banging the headboard against the wall until I thought the neighbours would call the police. He brought my to the edge again and again before staring into me just as he quivered and came, moments before a fierce orgasm ripped through me. "Oh Goddddd," I screamed, biting into his shoulder as my fingers raked down his back, before I flopped down, soaking into a world of pillows.

He lay panting next to me, before throwing his arm around me and pulling me closer. My body felt like jelly as we both lay there lifeless, silent apart from our heavy breathing. “We forgot the toffee sauce,” he said into my hair as his fingers started to creep down my sides. He wanted to think about toffee sauce now, when I’ve just had the best goddamn sex in my entire life.

I let out a little laugh, taking in the sigh of him lying on his stomach on the bed next to me, still lightly tanned from holiday. How did I get so lucky?



The sun streaming through the window gently woke me as I lay smothered in bedding with a huge arm draped across my stomach, binding me in place. I tried to snuggle my way out, but Jordan’s grasp tightened each time, before his crotch started to grind into my ass. I bit my lip, and turned over to face him. He might be ready for round two, but he didn’t have to be at the airport in two hours. And after last night’s animalistic sex, I wasn’t sure my sore body could deal with seconds before breakfast.

“I have to go,” I whispered, kissing him on the nose, taking in the little scar on his forehead before kissing that too. His grip tightened, and his eyes scrunched shut, his nose wrinkling upwards. Besides acting like a kid, he was making it hard for me to leave him here.

“I have a flight to New York this morning,” I whispered again, not sure why I was whispering, as there was no one to hear us. His grip slackened and I kissed him gently, before moving away to find my clothes, from wherever he’d thrown them last night. I'd become one of those girls. The ones I'd seen sneaking home back to their dorms after a one night stand, still dressed in yesterday's clothes.

“Ella?” Jordan said, sitting straight up in bed, his morning glory still clear through the crisp white sheets. “Are we more than just friends?”

Ugh, I’d been dreading this conversation. I didn’t know. Friends, why did I ever come up with that idea? If I'd known the sex would be that amazing, I'd never have suggested it. Friends didn’t make out. Friends didn’t bring each other toffee sauce. Friends didn’t tear each others clothes off and friends did not sleep together. Certainly we had way overstepped the limits of friendship in his car last week and last night had blown any remaining certainty of that old line, that we were ‘just good friends’. I didn’t want the whole ‘friends with benefits’ but after the mind blowing sex I’d just had, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go to New York. Not just yet.

I didn't really even know what I wanted, let alone what he wanted. But I did know that I wanted more sex like that and that I wanted Jordan in my life in one way or another. Maybe I could just keep him in my cupboard as a sex slave? I moved back to sit on the bed, fixing my hair in a messy bun. God only knew what I looked like, and I needed to get home and pack too.

“I don’t know Jordan, I really don’t. I don’t even know what I want. Last night was, um, incredible, but we can’t just be friends, but I’m not headed towards a relationship either,” I answered truthfully. The last thing I need is a relationship. Talking about my feelings is not one of my strong points, especially when I’m attracted to a guy. I’ve never been good at it, despite my mother being one of the top therapists in Montréal. I wouldn’t say that has driven me in the opposite direction, I’m not a closed clam, but opening up is never easy.

“I like you, last night was good. How about we try being, exclusive? I’ll drive you home,” Jordan offered, as he got out of bed. Get back in bed Jordan, before you convince me to stay for round two, three and four and make me miss my flight. I know this conversation was far from over but I really didn't have the time to stay and chat it out. A naked Jordan was not making it easy for me to concentrate.

“Exclusive sounds good,” I said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading out into the hallway and finding my shoes and jacket. I needed to get away from his naked perfection before I found myself staying longer than I should.