Unfortunately, Leo was there for a reason, we had to get to practice.
With a heavy sigh and a necessary adjustment, we untangled ourselves, and I stood up, reaching for her hand. Her fingers linked with mine, her heavy eyes told me she wanted nothing more than to pull me back down on her. I wanted that, too.
I ended up leaving for the rink, but I did have the idea that maybe I could take this in a different direction tonight. A direction both satisfying and safe.
The blue line – The line separating the attacking/defending zones from the neutral zone.
We ate Chinese food while sitting on the couch before Evan left for game 69 in Anaheim. I couldn't keep my mouth shut anymore. He was heading out on a three game road trip, and since the incident with my family, I wasn't going to hold anything back from him.
"Is there something bothering you?" I asked seriously, around a mouth full of noodles.
"No, why?"
"I just feel like maybe you're holding back." A little part of me knew what it was. Evan wasn't hard to read.
"Nope," he said, taking a bite of chicken, his fork prodding at the container looking for another piece as he chewed slowly.
"I just thought with uh…well, we've been getting more serious, and you seem...scared maybe."
"No…I'm not scared." He shrugged it off, stuffing his mouth with another piece of chicken.
Frowning at his response, and wanting to smack his forehead for not looking at me, I set my own container of noodles down on the coffee table. "You can talk to me about it. You know that, right?"
"I do talk to you. We're talking right now."
"You're right. We do talk...a lot. We tease each other a lot, too," I conceded. "What I mean is you seem to hold back with me like you think I can't take what you'll say or how I'll react because of the shit I've been through. I'm not a china doll, and I don't know how many times I have to tell you that. If you're scared or don't want me here, I need to know."
He blew out a breath, setting his box beside mine before turning himself toward me. "You're really young, Ami. You're eighteen. I'm twenty-one. I'm scared," he admitted. "I'm frustrated and mostly pissed at myself over this whole thing. I can't get it out of my head. Every guy I see, I think it's him, and then I want to run to you and make sure you're safe. I can't do that. Not only can I not because of my career, but I can't because that's not fair to you either. I can't do that because you didn't ask for this overly aggressive hockey player to fall for you. You didn't ask for any of this shit that's happened to you. So yeah, I get frustrated and confused because so much shit is happening right now, and I can't get my head straight. Playoffs are right around the corner. I need my head straight."
"Guess this is something we need to work on then." I smiled, leaning in to brush my lips against his. He turned his face a little to the side and leaned further into me to rub his jaw against my neck, the hairs tickling me. I giggled, shoving him away playfully. "Get your head straight, Mase."
I wasn't sure how I could help him get his head straight. I had a few ideas, but then again, would that make it worse?
Game 77 – New Jersey Devils
Friday, April 2, 2010
"Is there something you want to talk about?" Callie coyly inquired as she looked over at me. I continued to mull over how I wanted to ask the question when she offered me her flask. We were sitting in Evan's condo, watching the game, but my mind was hardly on the game. Once again, I declined the flask and settled on water.
"What?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"Are you doing all right?" Callie questioned.
"It's just hard," I relented. She might have been the only person that could understand. Even if she didn't, it'd feel good to get it off my chest. "Evan is…well, he's probably the best guy I've ever met, but he acts like I'm some kind of delicate flower he's going to rip the petals off, and damn it if I don't want a few petals ripped off. Yeah, what happened to me was really shitty, but guess what?" My voice got a little louder, and I may have even slammed my water glass down. "Maybe I want the aggressive hockey player and the occasional pulling of hair. But he won't do anything aside from kiss me. What's wrong with me?"
"Well for starters..." Callie took a slow drink from her flask and then set her it down. "...your hair isn't long enough to be pulled, so that's out of the question for a few months. And then we have the whole aggressive Evan thing." She smiled, trying to be honest. "It's not going to happen."
Way to burst my bubble.
"But he was with you," I pointed out, grasping for anything as a reason.