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.