30: Barbecue

Tuesday sucked. I spent my lunch break sending texts and calling my friends, who I knew had nothing better to do than surf the web. Still, they probably wouldn't be viewing the hockey-related sites that all began to show these pictures, but Sidney was a celebrity in Pittsburgh, so there was no telling who would find out.

I answered the same questions. I had already told everyone I knew that I had met him while eating dinner in July, but that was the last they had heard about him from me. They all wanted to know: How did this happen? Is it serious? Have you slept with him?

I did my best to get through their inquisitions while being as vague as possible. "We're just kind of seeing each other, I don't even know if you'd say we're really dating. It's kind of a confusing situation, because we don't get to see a whole lot of each other, and it's complicated. I just wanted you to hear it from me rather than some other outlet."

After a long day of work—which thankfully didn't involve explaining anything to Steve, since he was oblivious to the side of hockey outside of games and stats—I called Sidney and asked what I should bring to his barbecue.

"I don't know, I'm on the way to the airport right now to pick up my parents, but really I won't plan anything until tomorrow. I'm sure whatever you want to bring is fine," he said dismissively.

I told him to drive carefully, but I hung up exasperated. I so desperately wanted this barbecue to be as perfect as possible. In the end, I made broccoli salad, dill potato salad, and a big batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, made with whole wheat flour so he could have one or two without feeling like he was breaking from his training plan too much.

On Wednesday morning, I had to dress in something that would be appropriate for work and for a casual cookout. I opted for a pair of brown slacks, brown heels, and a brown, white, and blue striped fitted top, which was dressy enough for work but also cute enough to make a good impression. I put my fare in the work fridge with a note so no one would touch it, and impatiently waited for the clock to tick down to five.

I made great time into Pittsburgh and arrived at Sid's house by 5:45. The party was in full swing as I parked on the street (the driveway was full!) and made my way to his backyard.

Even though I had been to Sidney's house before, this was the first time I had seen his backyard, which was spacious with a large deck and a swimming pool. The day wasn't really warm enough for swimming, but I saw several heads bobbing in the water anyway.

Sidney spotted me first and jogged over to take the containers out of my hands and help me toward the group of people. "What did you bring?"

"Well, you didn't tell me, so I made a couple things." I blushed, wondering why I felt so embarrassed. "I hope that's okay, I mean—"

He kissed my cheek and I shut my mouth. "It's fine, Nelly. Don't be so worried." He set everything on a table by the grill, took my hand, and immediately led me to make the great introductions. I saw that Marc and Véro were in attendance, along with Tyler, Kelsey, Max, Kris, Jordan, his girlfriend, Alex, Lynne, Ben Lovejoy, and Evgeni. The people in the pool were considerably younger than everyone else, and I wasn't sure who they were. I turned to see where Sid was taking me, and we faced not only his parents but the Lemieuxs as well.

My face paled, and Sidney squeezed my hand for encouragement. He hadn't told me they were going to be here, too. I wanted nothing more than to curl under a rock and die. "I want to introduce you to my friend, Noelle. Noelle, please meet my mother Trina, my father Troy, Mario, and Nathalie."

I held out my hand and shook each of theirs, trying desperately to form words. I managed a few polite "Hello"s and "Nice to meet you"s, because what else is there to say to the parents of The Next One and to Le Magnifique? The hockey fan in me was stunned, and the part of me that knew that they were regular people was unable to compensate for my temporary loss of brain function.

Mario laughed, and I suspected that he had encountered several dumb-struck fans before. "Sid's told us a lot about you, Noelle, but he hasn't told us how you met."

That was enough to knock me out of my stunned state. "Oh, then you're in for a treat, because Sid loves to tell this story."

As Sidney relayed the story about our first meeting, they laughed and I rolled my eyes. "Really, I don't see what the big deal was. You should be flattered to be compared to such a celebrity," I joked, poking Sid in the arm.

He continued, "So she tries to cover it up by saying that she supports the team over the players, but she had no problem recognizing Max when she met him."

"He's Pittsburgh's hero," Nathalie said. "Everyone in southwestern Pennsylvania recognizes him."

"But to make matters worse," Sid interjected, "when she had the opportunity to meet anyone on the team, she wanted to meet Craig Adams."

I shrugged, and Trina offered, "Well, I would, too. Have you seen him? He's positively dreamy—and smart, too."

"Thank you!" I said. "I knew I couldn't be the only woman who felt that way. I like your mom, Sid. She knows what's up."

"It's a shame he takes after his father, instead of me," she quipped, and everyone laughed—except Sidney and Troy.

I relaxed and found that they were all welcoming and easy to get along with. Even when Sid left to tend to the grill, I held my own in conversation. Mostly, they asked me questions about myself, how old I was, what I did for a living, and other questions about my past. I knew I was being sized up, but they seemed truly curious and I didn't feel intimidated.

"So, you're a Pens fan, Noelle?" Troy asked.

"Absolutely."

"Are you coming to the game on Friday?"

"Nothing could stop me. The season opener, and the raising of the championship banners? It's monumental. This is the first—I mean, hopefully the first of many—Stanley Cup of my generation. I'm not counting the '91 and '92 wins, since I was young and didn't understand the significance of what it meant. This is once in a lifetime, and I'm delighted to have the opportunity to be there to experience it."

Nathalie laughed. "Yeah, I'd say you're a bona fide fan."

I shrugged, and Sid announced that the food was just about ready. I offered to help, and ended up playing hostess, setting out plates, silverware, and napkins, double-checking that everything was on the table and available, and making sure that everyone else was satisfied and taken care of before preparing my own meal. Sid and I worked side-by-side in the meantime, and we seemed to fall into a groove as if we had been throwing parties like this for years.

Additionally, I was introduced to Sid's little sister Taylor as well as the Lemieux kids, when they finally left the pool for dinner. I couldn't believe that Sid was letting me into his life like this, but I really couldn't believe how natural it felt to be a part of it.

Sitting next to Max and Kris, I caught up with the former as I ate dinner. He told me his rehab was going well, and he was frustrated that he wouldn't be taking part in the first games of the season.

"Better in September and October than May or June, though, right?"

When everyone had stuffed themselves, I got up to help put the food away and clean up. "Don't worry about it," Trina said, as she and Nathalie began clearing the table. "You've hung out with us old ladies long enough. Go hang out with the girls."

I thanked them and joined The Girlfriends, having a great time until Lynne decided to play Devil's Advocate and mentioned the pictures I had forgotten all about.

"Did you get my e-mail?" she asked, and I forced a grin and nodded. The other girls wore confused expressions, and Lynne felt the need to clarify. "There's a story going around about Noelle, and it's just horrible. It doesn't exactly paint her in the best light."

Before she could continue, I cut her off. "It's a bunch of drivel, calling me a puck bunny that's making her way through the team. First, Sid, and then Max. You'd better watch out, Véro, because I'm going after Marc-André next." I winked at her. "I just love those Canadian boys."

The other girls laughed, and that was the end of that discussion topic. I knew Lynne was looking for a reaction, and I wouldn't validate her behavior by responding in the manner she wanted. After a few moments, I began to wonder where the guys were; they weren't usually this quiet. I excused myself from the group of girls and headed toward the house. However, I got sidetracked as I realized that my cookies were not going to get eaten if they weren't out for everyone to try. As much as I considered it rude to show up at a party empty-handed, I didn't want to have to bring any leftovers home with me.

I took the Saran wrap off the plate of cookies and walked over to the Crosbys, Lemieuxs, and their respective children to offer them some when the planned attack took place. The guys ran out of the house armed with water balloons and began catapulting them at The Girlfriends. Some of them screamed, some laughed, and some ran to avoid the splash.

Rolling my eyes at their foolishness, I turned my back to the scene as Taylor took a cookie and smiled. I was about to ask her how she liked it when a balloon splashed by my feet. "Hey!" I hollered, turning around and seeing Sidney with three balloons in his arm and another in his hand, ready to be launched. "Don't you dare throw that at me while I'm holding these cookies! You'll get them all soggy!"

He cocked an eyebrow and wound back to throw the red balloon in his hand. "Then you'd better put them down, because I am going to soak you."

I held onto the plate, using it as a talisman or charm to prevent Sid from pelting me with water balloons. "I'm in my work clothes," I reasoned, trying to play negotiator. "You'd better not."

Trina took the plate from me and nudged me toward Sidney. "Get her, son!" she hollered, laughter dancing in her eyes.

"Mrs. Crosby! You're a traitor! And to think I liked you!" I laughed and dashed off the deck as Sid threw another balloon, but he hit Austin Lemieux instead. I giggled and yelled, "See what you did! You hit a poor, defenseless child! It's a good thing your aim with a puck is better than your arm!"

He responded by throwing another balloon, which bounced and didn't break as it made contact with the grass. I picked it up, and prepared myself for battle. He dropped one balloon, which broke at his feet, so it was my one to his two. Sidney threw one, which caught my leg, and then the other, which I dodged. Now empty-handed, he charged at me; I threw my balloon, which hit him square in the chest but didn't phase him. He grabbed me and swung me over his shoulder.

I squealed, wondering what he had in store for me now. "Put me down, Andy, if you know what's good for you!"

He swung me around, and I could see the amusement on everyone's faces. The Girlfriends were wet, having endured the assault. "Don't let her off easy," I heard Véro call. "We had to suffer, so let her, too!"

"Traitors!" I replied, laughing the whole time. "You're all a bunch of traitors!" Everyone laughed, and I realized that Sid was taking me toward the pool. "Don't you dare!" I tried kicking and struggling, but his hold was too strong. "My phone's in my pocket! You'll ruin my heels!"

In a few swift movements, in some manner that must have been physically impossible, he slipped off my shoes and took my phone from my possession, and then he held me bridal style.

"Kiss me, and I won't do it," he whispered as the guys cheered for him to throw me in.

"In front of your parents?" I questioned.

"Yup." I weighed the pros and cons of being thrown in the pool versus exposing our relationship to everyone. Kissing him with so many witnesses would mean this wouldn't be our little secret anymore, and that would be a big step in a serious direction. I took too long to answer and he began to swing me. "One.... Two...."

When he yelled "Three!" I made up my mind to kiss him, so I grabbed his shoulders just as he released me into the pool—and inadvertently pulled him in with me.

I surfaced and could hear laughter and clapping. Sid swam over and mocked me. "So you'd rather be thrown in the pool than kiss me?"

"You got your just desserts, falling in here with me, Crosby." I jumped up and pushed down on his shoulders, dunking him, but I followed and submersed myself with him. While we were underwater, I chastely kissed him on the lips.

We got out of the water, and I suddenly became very chilled when the wind blew. I wrung out my hair with my teeth chattering, and Trina told her son, "Get her out of those wet clothes, Sidney, and give her something warm to wear."

"Sure thing, Mom," he responded, taking a hold of my hand as we walked into the house, up to his room. He closed the door behind him and I heard him lock it, too.

"I don't know what's going through that head of yours, Crosby, but you'd better cut it out right now," I told him as I got a towel out of the bathroom to dry my hair.

"I'm just obeying orders," he replied, grabbing the hem of my shirt and quickly pulling it over my head. "I'm getting you out of these wet clothes."

I laughed. "She didn't mean it like that, and you know it." He undid the clasp of my bra and slid the straps over my shoulder. I felt so wanton. As he massaged my breasts, I tried to retain my good senses. "Everyone's downstairs, or outside. They'll hear."

"I guess you'll have to be extra quiet then," he responded.

Letting go of the towel, I wrapped my arms around his back and slid my hands under the waistband of wet jeans. My resolve was melting away. "They're going to wonder what's taking us so long."

"Let them wonder."

Once we shed our clothing, the heat from our naked bodies evaporated a lot of the water. When we finally pulled apart, we threw on some clothes and went back downstairs. I was dressed in a pair of his shorts and a big pullover hoodie, to hide the fact that I had to go bra-less. Sidney threw our clothes into the dryer, but we still had to wait for half an hour for them to finish drying. Someone had started a fire, and everyone had gathered around to roast marshmallows. I sat beside Jordan, and Sid sat next to me.

"Geez, you guys were up there forever," Jordy said quietly. "Do I even want to know what was going on?" When I blushed, Jordan called over to Sid, and held out his fist. Sid looked over, bumped his fist against Jordan's without really knowing why, and I was mortified. "Don't worry, I won't tell," Jordan whispered to me.

"You're a pervert, Staal," I told him, grabbing a marshmallow and eating it.

"Hey, you're the one making a big deal out of it."

"You're the one getting into other people's personal business." I stuck my tongue out at him.

Soon, everyone left, thanking Sidney for the good time, leaving me alone with the Crosby family. I stayed only long enough for my clothes to dry, because I felt that they could see right through me and know what had transpired upstairs as they had gathered around the fire. I changed into them and said my goodbyes.

"It was nice to meet you all," I said as I shook hands with Trina and Troy.

"We'll see you on Friday, right?" Troy asked.

"Yeah, she'll be at the game, Dad," Sidney responded. "I got tickets for all four of you."

Trina smiled, and she had a light in her eyes. "Great. We look forward to seeing you again."

Sidney walked me out to my car. "How did I do?" I asked him. "Did they like me?"

He laughed. "We'll talk about you once you're gone," he winked. "But all indications point to yes."

He leaned in to kiss me, but I moved my head and he kissed my cheek instead of my lips. When he looked at me, confused as to why I had done that, I pointed to the window, where his little sister was poking her head between the curtains.

29: A Date and a Dilemma

I knew on Sunday, when Sid called me after I sent him my usual, pregame "play well" text, that something was bothering him.

"Shouldn't you be napping?"

"I can't sleep."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just really worked up for this game."

Even though it pained me to say it, I told him, "You know it's just a preseason game—"

"But isn't to me. It doesn't feel that way. This is unfinished business for me."

Then it dawned on me. Sid never got to finish Game 7; he had to watch impotently from the bench as the Wings feverishly tried to score a goal to tie the game. This meant Sid wasn't like the rest of the Penguins having to compete in a rematch—he had to replay game seven. Unfortunately, he had to prove to himself over anyone else that he was capable to defeat Detroit. Sid was his own biggest motivator, and he needed no external drive or push. Unfortunately, that meant his biggest obstacle to overcome was himself.

I knew nothing I could say would erase the thoughts spinning through his head. "I know that the last time you had to face Detroit, things didn't go the way you wanted them to. I can't even imagine how you feel right now, and I'm not going to pretend to. That said, I don't want you to go crazy tonight, overexerting yourself and—"

"You don't get it. The biggest game of my life, and I had to—"

"Hey, shut up for a second," I demanded. "You called me, so you're going to listen to what I have to say before you start ranting and raving." He was silent, so I knew he was going to try to listen. I didn't mean to get snappy with him, but at least he was taking me seriously. "The Penguins won the Stanley Cup. Not in spite of your injury. Not because of your contributions all season and playoffs long. The Pens won because of the team effort and the roles every guy played during each shift, each game, each series. So don't think that you have to be Superman tonight. Go out there and play like you always do, play your role, and let the team do its collective job. Don't let what happened last season get under your skin and affect you this season."

"It sounds so easy when you put it that way," he sighed.

"Let me tell you something, it's not easy. Hell, why do you think my pro tennis career never took off?" I tried to joke to ease the mood, but I don't think it worked. "The game is as much mental as it is physical. Just try to treat this like a game against any other team."

"Thanks. I'll try. So, what are you up to today?"

I didn't want to linger on the phone with Sidney, because I didn't want to mess with his routine; however, I figured if he was willing to talk to me, he must be okay with the deviation. "Oh, not too much of anything. I went out to the courts this morning to hit the ball around, and then I tried to read some of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. The book is really quite boring, to tell you the truth."

"I can't believe it. It's a classic!"

"I know, I feel so blasphemous. But it's true—Victor Hugo rambles for pages about the architecture of the damn church. It's painful to read. I mean, I skim through pages, almost chapters at a time. I might as well be reading it in the original French."

"Oh, I didn't know you could read French."

"I can't," I laughed, and so did he. We talked a few more minutes about nothing before Sid said he thought he was ready for his nap. Again, I told him to play well, and we got off the phone. I tried turning back to Hunchback, but I was too nervous for him. This was a big game for all the guys, regardless of whether it took place in the preseason, regular season, or playoffs. Telling him not to worry just wasn't going to cut it, but I hoped that he would realize that he didn't need to kill himself for a game when he had nothing to prove and everything to lose.

I popped open a bottle of Miller Lite and sat on the couch, anxiously awaiting the five o'clock puck drop. This game was different: as much as I was rooting for the team, my heart was with Sid. I was with him as he skated on the ice, passed the puck, took some shots, and sat on the bench. He played with a focus I had never seen in him before, as if he were wearing blinders and could only see the game. Both teams were playing with an intensity reserved for interdivisional rivals.

The fans in Detroit were ruthless and tasteless with their Cindy Crysby signs, calling him a whiner and a diver. I was livid and outraged, but I was also worried about a repeat hit on Crosby that would leave him struggling to get to the bench. Hockey is physical and painful, I knew that, but this was the first game I winced at every check and every hack.

Even with Zetterberg on his tail, Crosby still managed to score the only goal of the game. He was named second star, with Fleury getting the first for his shutout. I watched his postgame interview, in which he said that the team played as well as they did because they got to their game, executed, and treated this game like every other. Not my words exactly, but close enough to make me feel like I had helped when he called earlier.

My phone rang that night as I was in bed skimming through more pages of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I answered, "Congratulations, second star."

"Thanks. The plane just landed, and I'm on my way home. What did you think of the game?"

"Good. A nailbiter, for sure. But do I get to say I told you so?"

He laughed. "No, but I do get to thank you."

"For what?"

"Hey, sorry to have to cut this short, but I need to get home. I'll call you tomorrow. 'Night, Nelly."

Without me having a chance to say goodnight, he hung up the phone. That was bizarre, I thought. I paid no mind to it and went to bed, dreading Monday morning, which was just as bad as I imagined it would be. It felt like I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep as I rolled out of bed and climbed into the shower.

I dressed in black slacks and a white, green, and gold striped button down shirt and slipped on my black ballet flats. I brushed my hair but didn't style it, since I was running late. I packed my usual lunch, peanut butter sandwich, apple, and Coke, and was out the door in under thirty minutes. Still, I was late for work, but as long as I beat the boss in, I was in the clear.

At ten thirty, my extension rang. I never received personal calls at work, and immediately I wondered what had happened to whomever. "Hello?"

"Hey Nelly."

"Hey," I tried to say casually. Steve sat at the desk beside me and could hear anything I said. "What's up?"

"I hope you don't mind me calling you at work, but I called your cell and it went straight to voicemail."

"I must have forgotten to charge it. You don't usually call me when I'm at work, though."

"I know, I figure I shouldn't bother you. Plus, you don't bother me while I'm at work."

Giggling, I responded, "That would be kind of hard to do."

"I guess so. Anyhow, I don't want to keep you, but I wanted to see what you were doing tonight."

"Well, work til five, go home, and then probably nothing."

"Then have dinner with me."

"Is that a question or a demand?"

"I should say question, but I really must insist. A movie, too. How does that sound?"

"Sounds tempting. But by the time I drive out to you, I don't know if I'll have time for all that."

"Well, I'll come out your way, we can meet as soon as you're done with work. Please say yes."

"Yes! Where do you want to go, and what do you want to see?" Right away, I started pulling up movie times and fantasizing about the evening.

"I don't care. You pick, just tell me where to go."

"Hm, I like all this control." I chose the restaurant, a small place called the Brick Oven, and gave him directions to get there before hanging up the phone. As I printed out a list of the movie times, so we could chose the flick over dinner, Steve asked who I had spoken to. "A friend."

"Didn't sound like a friend. Sounded like a boy."

"Don't be jealous, Steve," I teased. "You'll still get to see me forty hours a week no matter who I see outside of work."

"You never talk about your life outside of this building. I was starting to think you lived here."

"Sometimes, it feels like that," I answered.

In the afternoon, I checked my e-mails, and saw one from an unknown address. The subject read "Hi Noelle its Lynne." I knew from the grammatical mistake that it was Alex Goligoski's girlfriend, and I was tempted to delete it before opening it. Something, however, changed my mind, and I was glad for it.

Hi Noelle! This is Lynne, Gogo's gf. We've spoken a few times. You may remember me from the game on Friday. I hope you don't mind that that I've asked for your email addy. I came across something you'd might like to see.

I followed the link she provided and was shocked at the result. I couldn't do this sitting at my desk, so I printed the pages and took them into the restroom, where I could have some privacy.

Pictures. Sidney and I at Diesel posing for a picture with Marc-André holding my camera, the night we met there serendipitously. Sid and I at Diesel the night of his birthday, dancing so close to each other, gazing into each other's eyes, just moments before I freaked out and abandoned him on the dance floor. The two of us at the volleyball court, when he fell to the ground in the sand and I landed on top of him in a somewhat compromising position.

I could have handled that. We had spent time together, and those pictures were relatively innocent. At that point, the accompanying article discussed the mystery woman who had been recently spending so much time with Pittsburgh's superstar hockey player. Until it continued: But apparently, one superstar isn't enough! Then two more pictures followed, both from the first preseason game. Max and I hugging after Sidney's first goal, the 25 on my jersey in plain sight in the picture. And then me, planting a kiss on Max's cheek, a smile across his face. While one boyfriend was scoring on the ice, another was scoring in the stands.

I thought I was going to vomit. I knew the story was garbage, but how many people would see this? My friends and family? Sid's friends and family? I know that there was bound to be some sort of repercussion from dating Sidney, but I wasn't expecting this type of story nor expecting it so fast. I only had to get through an hour of looking cheerful at work. I allowed myself five more minutes to wallow in my self-pity in the restroom. After that, I dried my tears, washed my face, furiously finger-combed my hair (it figures, the day I don't care is the day I have a date!), and went back to my desk.

When five o'clock hit, I was out the door, papers in hand. Sidney was waiting for me inside the Brick Oven with a booth reserved in the corner—which happened to be my favorite seat in the place. I approached Sid and he stood up to greet me, pulling me into a hug and kissing my cheek. We seemed to have the same attitude toward PDA—no kisses on the mouth with other people around. Thank goodness for our discretion, or my predicament could have been worse. I slid into the side of the booth that gave me a view of the entire restaurant, and Sid seemed content to not face the room.

"Hey, Nelly, how was work?"

"Fine, until I stumbled upon this," I said, not hesitating and not even saying hello. I threw the pages on the table and asked him if he'd seen this yet. His reaction was to laugh. "This isn't funny," I hissed quietly.

"I'm sorry, I'm used to ridiculous stories like this. They don't bother me anymore. And really, you shouldn't let it bother you either. People are going to write stories about you, for none other than the simple fact that I like you. But we know what happened, and that this is all a farce," he said, waving his hands over the article.

"I know that and you know that, but everyone's going to see this! Your parents, for crying out loud!"

"They don't see things like this."

"My parents may see this!"

"Don't they already know about us?"

"No," I admitted quietly. Sid didn't respond, and I knew that he wasn't pleased with my answer. I continued, "Do your parents know about us?"

"They know about you, but not about us. That's up to you. I was hoping you'd have your answer for me. I was planning on a barbecue, and some of the guys could come too, so you wouldn't feel alone and so pressured."

"I'm kind of freaking out right now. Can we not talk about your parents?"

"It's important to me," he said in a low voice.

I decided to come clean with him. "I know it's important to you, but this isn't the way I wanted word to get out about us. You may be okay with this being spread across the internet, but I'm worried. Not only haven't I told my parents about you, but I haven't even told my friends. I was not planning on having them learn about it this way."

He was quiet for a moment. "Is that why you were so short with me on the phone? Why you wouldn't even say my name?"

"I'm not embarrassed by you or anything—quite the opposite, in fact—I just don't want to explain anything to anyone. I shouldn't have to. But there's going to be so many questions. We've got a good thing going here, and this is just going to complicate things and ruin it." I was close to tears, but I knew that everything I was saying wasn't truly expressing my emotions and fears.

"Wow, I think you're more worked up than I am about this."

"I can't believe you aren't freaking out. Doesn't this bother you?"

"Honestly, not a whole lot. Because I like you, and I don't care who knows. These aren't incriminating photos, we aren't doing anything bad in them, and I have no reason to be ashamed of them, or ashamed of how I feel about you. But I am bothered about it since it's so obviously bothering you."

"I just don't want everyone to get this impression of me, that I'm some slutty puck making my way through the team."

"You aren't. In everyone's esteem that matters, we know you aren't. Anyone who knows you wouldn't believe this story for a second." He ripped those printed sheets in half and then reached across the table and took my hand. "If this is going to bother you, let me talk to my agent and see if we can take these pictures down."

"You're honestly okay with this? I mean, someone was there at each place we were, taking pictures of us—of you! And now everyone can see them!"

"I'm used to that, cameras everywhere I go. I guess this is your first exposure to my life in the media spotlight. It's an invasion of my—our—privacy, but I have to live with it, because it comes hand-in-hand with my playing hockey. It happened to Geno and Oksana when they went to Miami, so I guess it's my turn on the media merry-go-round." He shrugged and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "But it's not all bad. I kind of have to introduce you to my parents now, because if they see these, they're going to insist on it."

I laughed, and it felt good to let go of some of the emotions coursing through me. Sidney had the amazing ability to calm me down, soothe me, and distract me. "I thought you said they wouldn't see something like this?"

"Theoretically, they could somehow hear through the grapevine, or someone could e-mail them the website...." He had a cheeky grin on his face as he implied that he would do anything it takes for me to meet his parents.

"All right," I agreed. "I'll meet them. But you'll tell them that I am a friend. I've had enough drama to last the rest of the month." Before he could say anything, I changed the subject. "I think we're definitely going to have to see a comedy tonight, what do you think?"

"That sounds appropriate. This isn't how I wanted tonight to start. This was supposed to be my big thank you."

"Really? A thank you for what?"

"Yesterday. You served as a great distraction for me before the game. I was so lost in my head that I never would have gotten my pregame nap. But talking to you, and not having to talk about anything specific, was just so relaxing. It gave me a bit of perspective...." He shrugged as if unsure how to explain. "You really helped a lot."

I smiled and winked. "Anything for the team."

He laughed, and we ordered dinner. I loved the Brick Oven because the food was good and came in large portions. My calzone was huge, and even though I was starving, I could barely get through half. Sidney finished his plate of pasta and the rest of my dinner.

We headed over to the theater for a 7:15 showing of the latest Judd Apatow flick. Some of the patrons stared at us, but no one approached us. I let him pay for the tickets, and I offered to purchase any concession snacks.

We settled into the last row for the movie. Sidney pushed up the armrest between us so he could put his arm around me. I snuggled in next to him, resting my head on his shoulder and placing my hand on his knee, and I could feel his muscles beneath his specially-made jeans. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"You all right?"

"Yeah."

"I mean it, are you okay with everything? Do you want me to talk to Pat?"

"Well, you're kind of right. In that we don't have anything to be ashamed of. And, eventually, I guess people would find out about a girl spending time with the Face of the NHL." He winced when I said that, but I laughed and continued. "So, I guess given the circumstances, I can live with these pictures, even if the story is total fiction." I then added while rolling my eyes, "This has been a great first date."

"This isn't our first date," he said.

"It's our first real date," I explained. "The weekend before last doesn't count."

"Aren't you counting my birthday?"

I thought about it. "No. Your friends were all there."

"That still doesn't make sense, given your definition of a date. Our lunch together should count, since it was just you and me."

"No, it was residual hanging-out from the night before. Don't try to make sense of my reasoning, just trust me," I laughed.

"You're such a mystery to me, do you know that?"

"I can only imagine what it's like to put up with me."

He kissed the top of my head as the lights dimmed and the previews began. "It's actually a lot of fun."

The movie was funny, but I was sad when it ended because that meant an end to our first date. Even though we were in public, I let him kiss me good night as he escorted me to my car. It was brief, but it was still enough to leave me wanting more.

"So, the barbecue's on Wednesday. I'm really excited for you to come."

"Should I bring anything?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, potato salad? Deviled eggs?"

Sid shrugged. "Whatever you want, Nelly."

"You need to tell me, because I don't want to bring anything you are already going to provide."

"I'll get back to you, okay?"

"Okay." We kissed one more time before getting into our cars, and I drove home on cloud nine. I still had a lot on mind and a lot of phone calls to make before people's feelings got hurt, but I tried to not let it bother me anymore. I doubted everything when Sidney and I were apart, but things made sense when we were together. All I had to do was get through to Wednesday, when I would see him again.

And his parents.

28: No Gift Like the Present

I didn't get any restful sleep that night. I remembered that I had dreamt, but I couldn't remember about what; I assumed it had something to do with the talk we had had before calling it a night.

Last night left me with a lot to process. Sidney had asked if we were official, which wasn't the same thing as directly asking me if I wanted to be his girlfriend. Or if I wanted him to be my boyfriend. Instead, he had implied that sleeping with a girl meant you should be boyfriend and girlfriend, so what the hell, let's just say we're together. Not exactly romantic. And since he put it that way, did he even want us to be together? It sounded much more like obligation than anything else.

However, he wanted me to meet his parents. So that had to count for something, right? I mean, guys don't just introduce girls to their parents for no reason. They have to like them, really like them, to take that step. Right? I hadn't even considered introducing him to mine; in fact, I was actively keeping any knowledge of him from my mother.

We had known each other since July. That's two months. We really got to know each other since our tennis match in the beginning of August, even if only a week had passed since we'd admitted our feelings for each other. Everything seemed to be happening so soon.

Luckily, and very generously, Sid gave me the option of how I could meet his parents. If I agreed to meet them—and I still was unsure—I could be introduced as a friend and avoid the discomfort of being judged and assessed with their critical eyes. Even so, I would still need to make an incredible first impression. That way, if Sid later had to inform them of a change in our relationship status, they may approve of me being bumped up from "friend" to "girlfriend."

Sidney woke up and tried to kiss me. I placed a hand over my mouth and spoke through my fingers. "Morning breath."

"I don't care," he responded, pulling my hand away from my mouth and placing his lips there instead. Disgusting, but cute. Things escalated quickly, even though I was still sore from last night. This time, we moved slowly and patiently, concentrating on each other's wants, doing everything we were too desperate to do last night.

Afterward I teased him for getting a workout before practice. "Hm, I don't want to go to practice. I'd rather stay in bed with you."

"No fucking way!" I told him, a little too vehemently. "You're going to practice, because you have to kick some Red Wing ass. Especially Maltby. I hate that motherfu—"

He chuckled, "Okay, okay, I'm going. You look tired. Do you want to stay here while I'm gone? That way, we can spend some more time together before I leave."

"Do you mind? I mean, wouldn't it be weird to leave me here?"

He shrugged. "Well, you can sleep some more, shower and pretty yourself up for me." I playfully hit his arm. "We'll have lunch. The team won't leave until later in the evening, at six, I think."

I stretched and then curled back into a fetal position on his bed. "Well, if you're going to force me to sleep in your big, comfy bed, I guess I can suffer through it."

"That's my girl." He kissed my forehead. "By the way, I have your present. Don't let me forget to give it to you."

"Can I have it now?" I asked.

"So impatient. It can wait 'til I come back." I tried to pout, but he laughed and refused. As much as I didn't like the idea of Sidney spending money on me, I loved surprises and getting presents. "I'll be back around noon."

With Sid gone, I got a little more sleep before I took a long, hot shower in his amazing bathroom. How do people with showers like this exist outside of the confines of the shower stall? Of course, it was after I was naked and wet that I realized my bag with a change of clothes was still out in my car. I threw on my jeans and shirt so I could run out for the bag. Once back inside, I changed into the clothes I had brought with me—nothing fancy, just khakis and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. I sprayed his black hoodie with Axe before putting it on, so I wouldn't have to bother him with wearing it to get that scent back. I glanced in the mirror, happy to see that the bulk of the hoodie half-covered the hickey on my neck. I took my make-up bag out of my purse and put on some mascara and lip gloss, but didn't bother with applying the rest of it.

I didn't have to wait long for him. When he returned, he dropped his hockey bag by the door and leaned against the door frame in the living room, watching me flip through the channels on his television set.

"Hey, Sid, how was practice?" I asked. When he didn't respond, I gave him my full attention. "What's up?"

"Nothing, I'm just appreciating what Max said, that morning we woke up at his place." I raised my eyebrow, not understanding. "It's nice to come home when someone is waiting for you, especially when that someone is wearing your clothes."

I looked down at this hoodie and smiled. "I love wearing it and smelling you. It's almost like you're constantly hugging me."

"I'd rather do that myself," he said, striding over and pulling me into his arms. "Hm, what's this?" he then asked, caressing the patch of skin darkened by his over-amorous attention last night.

"Oh yeah, thanks a lot for that." He kissed me, and as much as I enjoyed that, I couldn't help but ask, "So, do I get my present now?"

Sidney laughed. "Sure. If this is what you're like now, I'd hate to see you at Christmas. Or your birthday. By the way, when is your birthday?"

"February," I answered absentmindedly. "I'm not present-crazy or anything, I just get so excited. On Christmas Eve, my parents put the presents under the tree, and tell me I can't open them yet. It's the suspense that kills me."

"Well, then I won't keep you waiting any longer," he said, and he led me into the kitchen. He reached into the cabinet under the garbage disposal and pulled out a big, blue gift bag. "Now that I'm thinking about it, this really is going to seem lame. I don't know if I want to give this to you anymore."

"Oh, come on! You can't do this to me!" I howled. "I need to know what's in that bag."

He smiled and prefaced, "Okay, but honestly, you're going to think this is so dumb."

I practically ripped the bag out of his hand and opened it. When I saw what it was, I wrinkled my nose. "You bought me a skillet." I started to laugh.

"See, I told you that you would think it's dumb."

"No, it's not dumb. It's thoughtful, and that's what matters the most." I kissed him on the tip of his nose. "I think I'll keep it here, if you don't mind."

"That's perfect," he joked, "because I don't have one."

"What do you say we make use of it and have something to eat?"

I ended up making grilled cheese sandwiches, since the cut-up vegetables from last weekend's party had shriveled in the fridge. I asked Sid if he ever cleaned out his refrigerator, and he blushed and made the excuse of playing on the road so much.

"Sorry this isn't a great display of my culinary skills," I said, swallowing a bite of my sandwich.

"Well, that's what the skillet is for, to entice you to come cook for me any time you want. I don't do a lot of cooking, obviously, so if you need any other kind of kitchen gadgets, let me know, and I'll get them."

Laughing, I responded, "You must be really desperate for some home-cooked meals."

"I never had to spend a lot of time away from family before—and not just my family, but I mean others, too. In juniors, I billeted with a great family, and then here with Mario and his family. Even though it's not your home, it's someone else's home. You can't fake that atmosphere, and nothing beats a hot meal after a hard practice."

"Do you regret buying this place and moving out?"

"No. I needed to adjust to a new routine, but Nathalie still cooks my pregame meal when we've been playing at home, and I needed to find a new route to the arena, but I think I've done well with it so far. I mean, then I couldn't have you over."

"Did Mario have a no-girls rule?"

Shrugging, Sid said, "I don't know, it never came up." I wanted to press the issue, about how "it never came up," but he changed the subject. "We didn't get to finish our movie. Do you want to keep watching it?"

I laughed. "I don't think we ever started watching it. But I'm game."

We settled in on the couch, with me sitting normally and Sidney sprawled out across the length of the seat, head in my lap. I ran my hand through his hair, which looked in need of a haircut, but I kind of liked it long. Tousling a curl of his hair, I reveled in how he bought that skillet. Sure, it wasn't really a present, and it wasn't really for me either, but I liked knowing he thought about me outside of the time we spent together. Besides, this moment, right now, was worth more to me than anything he could buy me.

We stayed in that position for the entire movie. It felt so good to just sit there and relax with Sidney, no talking, no doing, no people; just us, just being. When the movie was over, he reluctantly sat up. As he began packing for his trip to Detroit, I made sure to tuck all my things in the bag I had packed.

"You know, you could just bring some stuff over to keep here," Sid said, and added with a blush, "I mean, if you want to."

I laughed. "Why? I love commandeering your shirts! That's a major step, Crosby, are you sure you're ready to clear out a drawer for me?"

The gleam in his eye betrayed his joking mood. "For you, babe, I'd clean out my closet."

I did my best to act flattered as he made a show of clearing out the top drawer of his dresser for me. I grabbed the tank top and shorts out of my bag, which I had planned on wearing to bed last night. That was all I had clean that might come in handy for when I visited him again.

"When will I get to see you in that," he asked, as I stuffed them into the drawer.

"Next time I stay over."

"That would be next Friday, right?"

"Nope."

"Aren't you gonna come to the game? You'll love it—we're raising the championship banners."

"Of course I'll come to your game, but I'm not spending the night with you. Not with your parents in the house," I answered matter-of-factly.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot." He looked mildly angry.

"Don't worry, we'll figure something out," I told him. He finished packing, and we both left his residence at around four in the afternoon. Sid had to get to the airport, and I had to make my way back to my real life.

"Bye, Nelly, I'll miss you," he said.

"I'll miss you, too. Have a safe flight."

"And you'll think about what I said?"

He didn't have to clarify his question; I knew that he was asking me to further consider meeting his parents. I nodded and told him I'd think about it. We got into our cars and sped off in opposite directions.

27: Misunderstanding

I pulled my car in behind Sidney's in the driveway at his house, and as soon as we were in the door, I tugged on his arm.

"Hey, come here," I ordered. He stopped and turned around, looking at me curiously to see what I wanted, and I put my best moves on him. I walked toward him until the entire lengths of our bodies were touching and I could feel the heat emanating from him. I placed my hands on the back of his neck, lacing my fingers to get a good, solid hold on him. "We didn't get to properly greet each other tonight."

Standing on my tiptoes and pulling his face down to mine, I lightly brushed my lips against his. Sid's lips curled into a smile as he kissed back just enough to show his interest but also to let me set the pace. He set his hands on my hips and played with the hem of my shirt until his hands were resting on the bare skin of my back. His touch was driving me wild, and I started kissing him a little harder and faster, thinking I had him right where I wanted him.

He shifted and we separated, and he looked relatively unaffected by my advances. What the hell? My body was on fire, and Sid was as cool as a cucumber.

"So, what movie do you want to watch?" He turned the dim switch slightly to give a little bit of light just like in a theater as he approached the media center to select our entertainment for the evening.

Are you kidding me? He still wants to watch a movie? I thought. "Whatever you want to watch is fine," I answered, plopping down on the couch in the living room morosely. I took the corner, leaned against the armrest and tucked my legs under me. No one's ever turned me down like that before, and I was pissed.

"Well, like, horror? Comedy?" I shrugged and half-smiled, completely uninterested in anything that didn't involve us having sex. Sid slid a disc in the DVD player and sat down beside me. "Okay, what's going on?"

"We're going to watch a movie."

"No, you're mad now. How did you go from being so... friendly... to all pissed off?"

"I don't know, probably the same way you go from kissing me to ready to watch a movie."

"Is that was this is about? Please, don't—don't be mad about that," he stuttered. I looked at him with a cocked eyebrow, and he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm going to go change," he added, tossing the control to me.

He left the living room, heading up the stairs as he began unbuttoning his shirt. This night was turning into a disaster. I wanted to spend some quality time with him, and instead I scared him off. How did things change so quickly? I thought about changing into something a little more comfortable too, but I realized that I was probably overzealous in bringing clothes to change into. How presumptuous of me to think the night would pan out as I wanted it to.

The movie menu came on, and I saw that he had chosen Anchorman. I hit play, figuring I needed to laugh, and this movie never failed to do just that, no matter how many times I watched it.

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Sidney had returned. He stood in the doorway, dressed in sweatpants and a tee shirt. He was looking at me, waiting for me to look up at him. I made sure to keep my eyes on the screen and pretended to be too engrossed in the movie to acknowledge his presence. Brick said something ridiculous and I laughed a little too loudly, overcompensating since I wasn't truly focused on the TV screen. I knew I was being petty and childish, but I couldn't help myself; I felt slighted, and I wanted him to feel the same way, too.

After a few moments of tolerating my ignoring him, Sid walked over and took the remote from my hand, lowered the volume, and stood in my line of sight so I couldn't watch anymore. Still, I avoided looking at him.

"Please, don't be mad at me—you won't even look at me!"

"That shouldn't matter too much to you, because it's not like you're interested in me anyway." I didn't mean for my words to sting him so much, but I could tell I had an effect on him.

"You think I'm not interested in you? Please, Nelly, that's not what's going on here. Just, ugh." He ran his hand through his hair, which I noticed he did when he was nervous or frustrated. "I don't know how to say this. It's just that I'm just not sure how I can control myself around you. I don't want to get carried away and make you feel uncomfortable."

I heard the pleading in his voice, and I couldn't help myself—I gazed into his eyes and my heart fell to the floor. "I wanted you to get carried away. What did you think I was doing?"

"I don't know. Being romantic. I didn't want to ruin the moment by going too far."

Somewhere inside me, courage boiled up that I didn't know I had. "Are you kidding me? What do you think that kiss was for, anyway?" I sat up and gave him my full attention, begging him to answer.

"Just what you said—a 'hello Sid, great game' kiss."

"Well, yeah," I explained. "I wanted to kiss you all night, but I didn't want to do that in front of everyone. I'm not big into PDA. But that was supposed to be more than an innocent 'hello.' It was supposed to make your toes curl."

He let out a nervous laugh. "It definitely made more than my toes curl. But you're usually so shy and tentative that it never even occurred to me that you may have been coming onto me."

"Me? Shy? You must be thinking about someone else."

"Not when it comes to stuff like this. When I hold your hand, I can feel your heart rate pick up. And you jump when I touch you. Not to mention how you reacted waking up with me last time."

"What? I didn't react, I just asked you why we were in bed together."

"Yeah, like you didn't like the fact that it had happened."

"Not at all! I'm just not used to being so..." I tried searching for the right word or phrase. Cared for? Sought after? Nothing seemed to fit, so I just continued. "I'm not used to it, is all. But that doesn't mean that I don't like it or that I don't want it to happen. I tried to make that very clear tonight."

He placed one hand on the armrest and the other on the back of the couch and leaned down without touching me. Sid's face was inches from mine when he said, "Well, now it's crystal clear."

This time, when we kissed, I felt his pent-up passion, and it was overwhelming but oh so welcome. We picked up right where we left off, and I felt that warm, pooling sensation low in my abdomen. I reached out and tugged on his shirt to get him closer to me, and he responded by sitting on the couch and dragging me over to sit on his lap. Embracing my newly found temptress, I straddled his massive thighs. I could feel my body pulsing as his mouth moved from my lips, across my cheek, and to my ear. His hands were in my hair, and I wondered if I could die from simultaneously feeling so much pleasure and anticipation at once.

Then his lips moved down my neck, and he instinctively nibbled that spot on my neck that drives me crazy. I gasped and moaned his name. His hands ran up and down my back, and any reluctance I may have had dissolved away.

Pure desire kicked in and I lost control of my body. We broke apart long enough for me to help him remove his shirt. A flash of light from the TV screen caught his necklace and number 87 charm, and it shimmered in the darkness. I ran my hand along its outline before running my hands down his chest. His body rivaled Adonis's, and Aphrodite would envy his beauty (although I'm sure he'd be none to happy to hear me call him beautiful). Our mouths reconnected, and fire passed between us. For the first time in a long while, I couldn't think; I could only do. The mental faded away and the physical took over.

At some point, we moved from the couch to his bedroom. In the moments during which our bodies lost contact, the fog in my head began to clear and I began to second-guess my decision. Yes, I wanted him—but I didn't just want him in bed, I wanted him in my life. Would moving so quickly this early on in the relationship ruin those chances?

Sidney removed my shirt and pushed me down to the bed in a forceful yet playful manner, and then lowered himself on top of me. He felt my body tense, and he politely asked if I was okay. "If you want to, we can stop...."

His voice was husky, deep with want, and I was thoughtless again. I always felt like his voice was as mesmerizing as the song of the pied piper, and he could talk me into anything. Tonight was no different.

"No, I don't want to stop. Do you have a condom?"

"Yeah, hold on a sec," Sid said, moving from his position on top of me and reaching across the bed to a nightstand. He opened the drawer and pulled out a brand new twelve-pack.

As he fumbled with the cellophane, I joked, "Well, it looks like you've had this night planned for a while. Were you planning on using them all?"

A few moments passed before he spoke. I could tell he was choosing his words carefully, which I thought was adorable as well as a little terrifying. "I didn't plan this for tonight, or for any night. I only wanted to be properly prepared for when—if—it did happen. As for using them all, yeah, I do plan on that, with you. Maybe not now, but eventually."

I laughed and the tension eased. First times were always so awkward, and we just seemed to make everything worse. "Were you ever a boy scout? You've taken the motto 'always be prepared' to heart." I grabbed the box and finished opening it for him, since his hands didn't seem to want to work.

Sid gladly relinquished that task to me, and instead brushed the hair away from my face and neck, kissing that tender spot again and pulling the strap of my bra over my shoulder. I knew I'd probably have a hickey there come tomorrow morning, but my worries vanished. That's what scarves are for.

We were too impatient for foreplay; as soon as I ripped open that box, I found myself completely naked, on my back, with Sidney above me, poised to enter me and put me out of misery. He hesitated, and I wiggled beneath him, bucking my hips, trying anything to get him inside me. "Sidney," I whimpered.

He chuckled, leaned his face toward mine, and whispered in my ear, "Just say the magic word."

"Please."

* * * * *

By the time we finished, we were sweaty and drained. I could only lie on my back and stare at the dark ceiling. "Wow," he sighed. I agreed, but I couldn't find the words to express my gratitude or the energy to nod. The bed dipped as he rolled over closer to me. "Will you say something?" I heard a quiver in his question, and I knew that the longer it took me to talk, the more nervous he would get and the more he would second-guess his first-rate performance.

I followed his lead and barely eked out a "Wow." He snickered and nuzzled against me, pulling me to him. As comfortable as that was, I knew I needed to get up and go the bathroom. It was a rule: pee after sex to prevent UTIs. However, I also knew that if I got up, he'd be asleep before I returned, which would cut down on our cuddle time.

"Why can't you relax?" Sidney asked.

"I need to get up," I explained. He let go of me and moved to the other side of the bed. I felt his mood turn sour. "I'll be right back," I added, sliding off the bed, scooping some of my clothes off the floor, and running into the master bath. Why couldn't this night go as smoothly as I had foreseen in my head? First times were supposed to be special, not disastrous. The sex was good, incredible in fact, but everything else was slightly mortifying, one misunderstanding or miscommunication after another.

When I came back out, he was still awake. I hesitated in the doorway, unsure if he wanted me to get back into bed with him. Then it sank in that he'd never officially asked me to spend the night. He invited me over for a movie. I wondered if I should leave. If he let me leave, I knew that this was over. Please don't let me leave, I hoped.

His phone beeped, and he got out of bed, put his boxer briefs back on, and fished his phone from the pocket of his suit, where he had left it. He grunted and typed out a reply, sitting back down on his bed.

"Who was that?" I asked timidly.

"Staalsy. Asking where we were."

"And you told him...?"

"I told him we opted for a quiet night."

"Oh."

"Are you coming?"

"Coming where?" I questioned, suddenly confused.

"Back to bed."

I smiled. "Well, I should probably get going," I said counterintuitively, crossing my fingers that he'd disagree.

"Really? After tonight, you want to just... leave?"

"I don't want to leave, but I think maybe I should."

"No, you should just stay right here. Did you think I would invite you over and let you leave?"

"Well, you didn't say it was for the night."

"I think by now, you have a standing invitation." I laughed in relief when he said that. "So what do you say, eh? Come back to bed, and see how many of these we can get through tonight," he added, holding up the ripped-apart package of condoms.

"You'd love that, wouldn't you, Casanova?"

"Very much so." He held out his arms, which was my cue to step into them and be held. I willingly obliged, and despite his previous suggestion, we just reclined in bed with each other. Sid was the first to break the silence. "So, what does this mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"Well, does this mean we're together? I mean, officially?"

"Do we have to be?"

"Oooh, shut down," he said, a hint of hurt in his comment.

"I don't mean it like that," I reasoned as I planted a kiss on his shoulder. "It's just that, you're busy, I'm busy. Can't we just keep this fun? No pressure, no expectations?"

"Then I guess this would be a bad time to tell you my parents are coming down next week, during our break before the regular season." I tensed again—my muscles were getting a workout from this alone. But this wasn't news to be taken lightly. "You don't have to meet them at all if you really don't want to, but if you're up for it, I'd like to introduce them to you. As a friend, as my girlfriend, whatever you want. I just want them to get to know you."

"I want you to know, before I accept or decline, that this is terrifying to me. Not because I'm meeting your parents, but because I'm meeting your parents."

"I don't get it."

"Sidney Crosby's parents? I can see it now. 'Oh, you're the girl who's going to distract my son and ruin his NHL career? How nice it is to meet you.'"

"They're not like that."

"Do you know this from experience? Have you introduced lots of girls to your parents before?"

"Well, no, but if the preseason is any indication, they don't have anything to worry about. In fact, I think you're good for me, not detrimental. You don't have to give me an answer tonight. They fly in on Tuesday, and they'll be here for the season opener, too." He kissed my forehead. "Just think about it, eh?"

I nodded. "I'll think about it." And think about it I did, even as my eyes fluttered shut and I dreamt about what nightmare could erupt from meeting the Crosbys.

Author's Note

I'm not one to write notes; I like the let the story speak for itself. But I just wanted to thank everyone, my followers and commenters, for the support. Especially you, Kristina, since you've stuck with me practically from the beginning. If not for you, I'd probably have given up on this by the first week.

I like knowing that you all enjoy the story, especially the little things that resonate with you. (And seriously, try the fries in the shake if you haven't already, trust me on this.) I don't mind constructive criticism, either. A lot of the story is already planned out in my head, but I'll entertain suggestions as well.

That being said, I'm working ahead by about five days' worth of updates. While it may seem cruel to have so much written and not share it yet, the updates are all scheduled to publish each evening. I figure this way, if I get hit with writer's block or get slammed and don't have time to write, you'll still have something to tide you over until I can get back in the swing of things.

Your regularly scheduled updates will commence again tonight, with what I *hope* is going to live up to your high expectations.

~Jay

26: Getting Lucky

I followed Véro's directions and ended up at her and Marc's house in Moon. Marc had already left for the arena, and Kelsey was there, too.

"I'm glad to have another girl to add to the club," Kelsey said. "I mean, all the girlfriends tend to hang out together during the games and stuff, but some of them are annoying as hell."

"You heard that one girl, Lynne, last Saturday," V said. "The 'just let him pay' girl? I can't stand her," she laughed. "Kels and I like to relax and eat before the game, before we have to put up with those girls."

"We're ordering Chinese tonight, does that sound okay?" Kelsey handed me a menu.

"Yeah, sure, love Chinese," I responded, taking the menu and thinking about how many times I've eaten out in the past week. I opted for the chicken and steamed vegetables as a smarter choice, but I still had to get an egg roll—my greatest weakness.

As we waited for our dinners to arrive, I learned more about Kelsey. She was from Sault Ste. Marie, Canada, and had known Tyler since they were young. He was lucky enough to play in juniors for his hometown team, but when he went to play in the American League for the Baby Pens, they lost contact. On his next trip home, he saw her and realized she wasn't the little girl he knew as a boy, and he wanted to get to know her as the beautiful woman she turned into.

"That is the cutest story," I gushed.

She shrugged. "It's so hard for the guys to meet nice, quality girls, so they date girls they knew way back when, before the fame and money is in the picture."

"Oh," I said. I can't believe that never occurred to me before. Of course the guys would fall for the girls next door. City girls were puck bunnies for having fun, but when it came to serious relationships, the hockey players would chose hometown girls. Maybe Eva was right, and thinking in the longterm with Sidney was a bad idea.

"No, I don't mean that about you!" Kels retracted. "You're obviously an exception. I can tell you're not like that. You're one of the few people I've met here that seems genuine. And you and Sid are so cute together."

"Thanks, Kelsey, but you're still right. I mean, being a professional hockey player is a difficult thing, and I think they need someone who's going to be there at the end of the day, win or lose. Girls like me aren't able to do that, and that's a big factor when they pick girls as girlfriends."

Kelsey and Véro looked at each other, and then turned back to me, and they spoke at the same time.

"Noelle, you and Sidney are so cute together. You can't possibly think he isn't interested in you—"

"Do you see the way he looks at you? The two of you are lucky to have met, you really have a shot at something here—"

"Girls, it's fine. Listen, I'm just trying to keep perspective about this all. We like each other, and as long as that lasts, I'm all for it. But I'm not going to pretend like things are going to be easy and fall into place, that's all."

"Good, because you've officially been initiated into our little club. We need girls like you, and not Lynne!" Véro offered.

"Exactly, you're going to make going to the games and hanging out with everyone so much easier. Otherwise, we'll all go crazy," Kelsey added.

"You girls are surely exaggerating. It can't be that bad at the games."

They rolled their eyes. "Just wait and see."

"By the way, that reminds me. I have to send him his pregame text," I said, pulling out my phone, quickly typing play well, and hit the send button.

Dinner arrived, and we ate, talked, and laughed. I was having a blast with these two, and I was looking forward to doing this as often as I could.

"Does he make you send him that text as part of his superstitions, or do you do it because you want to?" V asked.

"Because I want to. I always tell him to play well. What do you guys say to the boys?"

V said, "I ask him to make a save for me."

"I say, 'Go get 'em, tiger!" Kels laughed.

"I'm totally going to start calling Tyler 'Tiger' now. Do you think we can make it stick?" I giggled.

"No! Don't tell him I told you that, he'd be so embarrassed," Kelsey begged.

"I don't know if I can do that. It's hilarious." I cracked open my fortune cookie, popped half of it in my mouth, and read the fortune out loud, "Lady luck will visit you soon."

"Oh, I wonder what mine says!" Kelsey grabbed a cookie and opened it. "To understand a man's mind, listen to his words."

V added,"In bed," and we all cracked up laughing.

When we finished eating, I offered to drive the girls to the arena. V said that it probably wasn't a good idea, because my car could break down at any point and leave us stranded. They gave in, and we made the quick trip to the Mellon, I got my ticket and pass, and we made our way up to our seats. Some of the other girls were already there, and I also noticed the Malkins in our area, too. I couldn't believe that I was in the family/friend section for the Pens game.

To my surprise, I was the only person in the section wearing Penguin paraphernalia. The Girlfriends were wearing cute outfits, and this was just another instance that made me feel out of place in the behind-the-scenes hockey world. If I had been sitting a few rows up or down, a few sections to the right or left, I would have blended in perfectly as just another face amongst the fans in the sold-out arena.

I was anxious for the game to begin, but the company I was with made the wait unbearable. Kelsey and Véro hit the nail on the head when they described the other girls, who I found to be obnoxious. They gossiped like high schoolers and glared at me because I wasn't dressed appropriately—as they deemed so—for the night's game. But I was proud of my Talbot jersey, and when the lights dimmed and the players came out on the ice, I screamed my head off like a true fan. Some of the girls glared at me, finding it difficult to continue their conversation with a banshee like me making so much noise.

As the periods went by and the Penguins dominated the Blue Jackets, V, Kelsey, and I intensely watched the game, celebrating the goals by Malkin, Kunitz, and Staal, the saves by Fleury, and the blocked shots by Letang and Orpik. Even so, the other girls seemed to cheer and support their boyfriends, while I was the only one cheering for the team and watching the game, not specific players.

The guys won in a shut-out, with Crosby picking up two assists. He didn't score a goal, but I knew he had to be pleased with the win and a multi-point game. We headed down to the lounge and waited for the guys, and I was amazed as the security guard recognized me and let me through without having to see my pass. I couldn't believe I was becoming a regular.

Luckily for me, Sid was able to finish his interviews early, since the spotlight was on so many of the other players after their performances. He strutted out a gray suit, a light purple shirt, and a dark purple tie. The color really set off his brown eyes—and it was my favorite color. Just like last time, he swept me up in his arms and thanked me for being his lucky charm. "It can't just be a coincidence that I'm racking up the points when you're here," he explained before
giving me a slight peck on the cheek.

"You should have gotten my fortune cookie fortune. I must be your lady luck!"

He took my hand in one of his, and then wrapped his other around them. "So, the guys were thinking about heading over to Diesel, but I'm starving. Do you wanna grab something to eat, and then head over?"

"I'm up for whatever," I said. "That sounds fine to me."

"Let's duck out, then."

"Wait, on two conditions."

Sidney furrowed his brow. "Two conditions?"

"Yes. First, either we take my car or I follow you. I'm not leaving it here again. And second, I'm paying." He opened his mouth to stubbornly argue, and I pulled my hand out of his grasp. "Well, if that's not okay, I can just head home. Great game tonight," I added, turning as if to leave. I took a few steps, knowing—well, not knowing, just hoping—that he would stop me and call my bluff.

One step, two steps, and nothing.

"Okay, all right. You can follow me, and maybe go halfsies on dinner?"

I smiled broadly, and then tried to suppress it as I turned around. "That could work."

We made plans to meet at a 24-hour diner, since he would end up signing some autographs for the waiting fans and I'd have to fight the traffic. It took an extra half an hour, but he and I finally were able to settle in a booth across from each other and enjoy a little privacy and quiet. I had taken my jersey off, and he had removed his jacket and tie. The collar of his shirt was open and the first button undone, and I could see the gold necklace around his neck with his 87 charm.

"So, did you enjoy the game?" he asked, as I ordered fries and a chocolate shake, and he ordered a cheeseburger.

"I did. Man, you guys took the wind out of their sails in the second period, with Fleury's save on the breakaway, and then Malkin's goal right after. I mean, those were the keys to the win."

He shook his head, and at first I thought he was disagreeing with me, until he smiled. "That's what I told the guys. When you know your goalie is backing you up and playing great, you want to support him by putting points on the board so he can relax. And then we're all feeling confident, and that's what it takes to win."

"I think this is exactly what you guys needed before heading to Detroit on Sunday. I can't believe you have to play the Red Wings in the preseason."

Sidney smirked. "We don't have control over the schedule, but if we control our mindsets, we're going to a send message early on that this year, we're still the team to beat."

Rolling my eyes, I told him, "Nice politically correct answer. But I can see through it. That's just a nice way of saying you're going to rip off their asses and serve 'em on silver platters."

"Shh! Don't tell anyone that," he whispered, and I laughed.

When my food came, I realized I was hungrier than I thought. I salted my fries and then dipped them into my chocolate shake. It was definitely a Pittsburgh thing—and it wasn't as good as fries in a Wendy's Frosty—but it still cures any craving I have. Salty, sweet, carbs, chocolate, warm, and cold, all in one. Sid laughed at me, until I ordered him to try it. He tried to turn me down, saying he was in training and he stayed away from junk food and sweets during then, but I insisted. No one's ever tried it and told me they didn't like it.

We ate and talked a little more about the game, and he asked about my work week.

"I don't want to talk about work," I said to him. "This is the weekend, and this is when I forget about my stupid boss and the headache that'll be waiting on my desk come Monday morning."

"That bad, eh?"

"I've got a lot more responsibility now, so there's more pressure. It was easier when I was paid to do as I was told, and now I've got some leeway and therefore more room to make plenty of mistakes. It's a whole nother ball game," I explained.

As he ate, I watched him. He wasn't doing anything that was particularly fascinating, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. That's when it hit me: I wanted him. Bad. When the realization hit me, my stomach somersaulted. I decided I had to get away from him before I did something I might regret.

He took his last bite and caught me staring. "Do I have something on my face?"

"No. Listen, I'm not feeling up to going out tonight with everyone—"

"We don't have to go out if you don't want to."

"I don't want to keep you from celebrating with the guys."

"No, that's fine with me. I see 'em all the time, but I don't get a lot of time with you. We can just relax, and spend some quality time together. You wanna head over my house, maybe watch a movie or something?"

My nerves calmed when he said that. Even when I was on the verge of going spastic, he made me feel comfortable and soothed. Wanting to be with him wasn't the end of the world—in fact, it sounded like the perfect end to such a great day. "That sounds good. I mean, whatever your schedule allows. I don't know what you have to do tomorrow."

"Practice at ten, and then we leave for Detroit. I think I can handle a movie."

He was going to need to handle a lot more than a movie tonight, with all the thoughts running through my head. We got the check, and I grabbed it before he could see it. I walked to the register and paid it in full, despite our earlier agreement to pay half, and then we got in our respective vehicles and started back to his house. As I pulled into his driveway, I remembered what I had said to Sidney after the game—that he should have received my fortune for the night. Lady luck had helped him through the game, and now he was going to get lucky.

25: Sid, My Little Secret

When I got home, I was exhausted, but I wanted to talk to someone. Scrolling through my contacts, I landed on Eva, and was about to push the "talk" button when my mom approached me.

"Thank you for letting me know you weren't coming home last night." Then she saw me and asked, "What did you do last night? This is the second time in as many months that you've stayed out all night and come home in someone else's clothes." I shrugged, and she pushed the issue. "These are guy's clothes. Is there a man in the picture now?"

I didn't want to have this conversation with my mom. It was bad enough that I was 24 and had never brought a boyfriend home for her to meet—I knew that if she knew I was spending the night with a guy (regardless of what we actually did) and she hadn't met him yet, she would not be pleased.

"He's a friend, Mom, nothing more—"

"And when do I get to meet him?"

"I have lots of friends that you've never met. Why does this one have to be different?"

"Because nice girls don't sleep over boys' houses and stay nice girls."

"Mom! You're calling me a slut."

"No I'm not—"

"No, you're just implying that since I stayed over someone's house, I'm a woman of ill repute."

"Stop being so dramatic. I'm saying that the type of girl who spends the night gives the impression that she is not entirely wholesome."

"This is ridiculous. I said, he's a friend."

"Fine. So you guys went to the game together?"

"Um, we met there," I said. My mother was a human lie detector. I wasn't lying, I just wasn't being completely honest—and I decided my mom did not need to know about Sid.

"You know, that was so nice of Sidney Crosby to give you tickets. And to think, you only met him once over the summer. Were you able to see him after the game?"

"For a little bit. But he scored a hat trick, so he had to do a lot of interviews."

"A hat trick?"

"When a player scores three goals in one game. It's kind of a big deal," I explained.

"Oh. Well, good for him then. You'll never guess what happened to me at work yesterday," she started, and I knew I'd be sucked into a long story. I loved my mother, don't get me wrong, but I was too anxious to really listen to anything she had to say right now.

I played the part and looked attentive, but at the first change I got, I escaped to my room and called Eva.

"Hey, what's up? I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!" she answered.

"I know. Oh man, there's so much going on. Would you like to get together, for dinner maybe? I have loads to tell you."

"Sure, where do you want to meet?"

"Why don't we just go to Eat 'n' Park? Is six okay? Because I need a nap."

"No problem, I'll see you there."

I crawled into my bed and sank into it, without taking off my clothes. I still smelled of Sidney, and I fell asleep thinking of him.

At 5:30, I woke up and started out to meet Eva. There was so much we had to catch up on. When I saw her pull into the parking lot, I wanted to spill my guts right then and there because I couldn't contain my little secret anymore.

"Nice get-up," she laughed, tugging on my sleeve. "Did he give that to you?"

"Yes," I answered, and she didn't think I was serious. "We hung out after the game, and you'll be glad to hear that he did buy a house over the summer. I slept there last night."

"No way," she said, her eyes widening. "You mean to tell me that you and—"

"No," I cut her off. "We didn't. He's a total gentleman. But we did kiss, and it was so good. Amazing." My voice trailed off as I remembered that steamy make-out session.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Well, he invited me to the game next Friday, so I'll see him then."

"I meant, are you gonna sleep with him?"

"Woah, slow down," I said, not expecting this from Eva. "That's not an easy question to answer."

"Yes it is. You like him. Any other guy, and I wouldn't even have to ask."

"He's not just any other guy."

"Why? Because you like him, or because he's Sidney Crosby?"

I had to think about it. "Both. I do like him. Why him, I don't know, but there's just some kind of connection I can't explain. And he is Sid Crosby, and as much as he's a normal guy to hang around, I can't forget his status. So I want to be with him, but I'm scared to be, too."

"I think you should just fuck him and get it over with."

I was shocked. "What? Eva, what's going on in that head of yours?"

She shrugged, and I was seeing a side of her that I was unknown to me. "You're letting him into your head. If you keep this up, you're going to fall for him, and hard. I'm sorry to be the voice of reason here, but he's only going to break your heart. He's a hockey player, you know how they are. Always on the road, a ho in every area code."

"He's not like that, I can tell."

"Yeah, how? Did he tell you that?"

"No, but I can just tell."

"You say that because that's how you want him to be. Do you think this will work out? Do you think you're going to have a happily ever after with him?"

"I don't know, but what does that matter right now? Why can't I just have some fun with him now and see what happens down the road?"

We kept answering each other's questions with more questions until we ordered and ate quickly and quietly. I tried to make small talk, asking her about work, and when her final semester was going to begin, but she didn't feel like talking either.

"Listen, I'm sorry I was so harsh. I just don't want to see you get heartbroken."

"I've never been heartbroken, you know that. My heart is made of stainless steel," I joked. "Besides, you seemed fine with everything that night at Diesel. I don't know where this spark in you came from."

"Every heart can be broken. No one's impervious to it. I thought that you guys would just sleep together, and that would be it, just like the other two 'relationships' you've had."

"You really make me sound like a slut."

"No, you know I don't mean that. I just mean that you never think about the future with a guy in mind. As soon as you talk about seeing what happens down the road instead of living in the present, I know you're hooked. So, no matter what you decide, just be careful, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed, and we went our separate ways.

As I drove back home, I couldn't help but contemplate Eva's words and advice. But I felt that deep inside, I knew Sidney, and he wasn't a heartbreaker or a womanizer. My phone beeped beside me, and it was another message from Sid. Could he read my mind?

Miss u. Bought u a present. U get it when I see u next Fri after the game.

That made me smile. At the next red light I hit, I responded, saying that I missed him too, and I couldn't wait for Friday's home game.

The waiting was becoming unbearable. Sunday was miserable. I called Sid and wished him and his teammates a safe flight to Montreal. Then on Monday, I went into work and was pestered by Steve for all the details of the game, which I gladly relayed. Thinking about the game was an excellent distraction from impatiently awaiting the next.

"Did you and your new best friend Sidney hang out?"

"Well, wouldn't you like to know," I teased.

"Yes, I would. That's why I asked."

Again, I carefully chose my words. "I got to see him briefly after the game before I left the arena."

I had decided that I was going to be careful about what I said about him, to avoid a repeat conversation of what Eva and I had discussed. Besides, after all the times Steve joked with me about how hot I thought Sid was, he would never believe me if I said we more than just friends. I figured I had told enough people about him, and since we were still in that limbo between "I like you" and "Hey, let's make this serious," I decided no one else had to know.

I sent a brief message to Sidney around four in the afternoon, with the instructions to play well. I never heard back from him, so I figured he was busy with his pregame routine. After leaving work, I watched the game on FSN, and as I was getting ready to turn in for the night, my phone rang.

"Hey, Nelly," he said as I answered.

"Hi Sidney, good game."

"Oh, you watched it?"

"Duh, of course I watched. Congratulate Tyler and Gonch on their goals for me, okay?"

"Sure. You sound tired. Did I wake you up?"

"No, I was just getting into bed. What are you doing?"

"We're getting ready to head over to Toronto for tomorrow's game. You're coming on Friday, right?"

"Absolutely. I wouldn't miss it. Besides, you told me you got some kind of present for me."

"Oh yeah," he chuckled, "I almost forgot about that. If it's okay, I'll just get you seats by Véro and the girls. Hey, wait, hold on a sec—"

I listened to the struggle on the other side of the line until Jordan's voice came over the headset. "Hey, Noelle, did you see my assist?"

"I did. Way to go, Jordy. But I thought you were a shooter, not a passer?"

"I can't hog all the points. But listen, we're getting ready to take off, and Sid needs to turn his phone off, so let's speed up this conversation, all right?"

"Yes, sir," I laughed, and I heard another struggle as Sid got the cell back from Jordan.

"I'm sorry about that. These guys are idiots. I'm gonna let you go. I'll talk to you soon."

"Goodnight, Sidney."

"'Night, Nelly," he whispered, and I hung up with my heart skipping a beat. That got me every time.

Tuesday and Thursday passed similarly, with me instructing him to play well before the game, and he'd call me after. We'd talk about the game, one of the guys would torment him about talking to me, and then we'd say goodnight. On Wednesday, Sid and I talked over my lunch break. After approving it with my boss, I worked late on Wednesday so I could cut out early on Friday for the game.

Véro and I made plans to meet up for dinner before the game, so I made sure to prepared for the day. Since the boss was in the office for game day, I had to wear appropriate work clothes, so I packed jeans and a flattering shirt to change into for dinner, and I also made sure to bring my Talbot jersey for the game. In addition, I brought pajamas and a change of clothes—just in case. I also planned on returning Sid's black hoodie and exchanging it for another; the black one lost its scent.

I left the office around two on Friday and missed a lot of the traffic I had been stuck in one week prior. Finally, the long week was coming to end and I was going to see Sid. It felt like I was living two different lives: my old life that was normal and ordinary, filled with work and monotony, and my fast-paced new life on the weekends, which was filled with fun, new friends, and most importantly, Sidney. I felt like I had to keep these two aspects separate; my old friends were weary of my new romance, and I was hesitant to let people in on my little secret. At least my new friends were accepting of me, and I didn't have to hide anything from them.