Rich Man

Was I double-teamed?

No, there’s no way.

The frightening theory, though long discharged from the sanctuary that was my mind, surged a new kind of fear in my heart. It was a creeping, looming dread that eat away at my every move or word around Bergeron. Though he and I were admittedly the picture of peace and harmony throughout the bus ride, I couldn’t help but be extremely wary of his subtlest of movements.

“Are you okay?” he inquired this in a low voice and leaned over slightly.

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing important.”

“Then why are you so quiet?”

“Because I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

“You’re five; I swear.”

Patrice shot me a sly half-smile having successfully gotten a rise out of me. His triumphant little grin lasted no longer than a few seconds as he soon came to reply, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” It seemed like a completely genuine, out-on-a-limb statement; one that made me blink a few times and actually contemplate outright pouring my guts to him.

My ears perked. A small smile, reluctant to bear itself on my now saddened features, rose the corner of my lips. “You’re sweet, but I’d rather keep my issues to myself, thanks.”

His smile faded in almost an instant. “So there is something wrong.”

“It’s just… Complicated. The last thing I want to do is talk about it.” I fiddled with a loose string on my shirt and obviously avoided his eyes. There was no use in getting caught up in that alluring gaze of his that could tear me apart without the least bit of effort.

“I’m a great listener if you ever need to rant,” he prompted once more in attempt to get an answer out of me.

Shaking my head, I cleared my throat. “Be that as it may, talking to people never helps what cannot be undone.”

“Well then it can’t hurt, either.”

“Give it up. I’m a lockbox,” I shot back, almost as a final, tired attempt to cease his prying. I was far too exhausted to continue resisting and brushing him off.

“Then I’ll find a key.”

“Why do you want to know so bad?” I finally snapped at the man, staring him down in attempt to evade his questions.

Patrice assumed a small look of shock before inhaling deeply. Tongue flicking over his lips, he responded, “I wanna know more about you.”

I whispered, melting a bit back into my seat and fixating my eyes out the window, “I mean, thanks for giving a shit, but don’t worry about me or my thoughts. I keep my stuff to myself for a reason.”

“That reason being…?”

“I don’t like people getting close to me, okay?”

“That never stopped you before.”

“We slept in the same bed. You carried me like halfway there. How was I supposed to deny you a bit of entry into my head after you basically saved my ass?”

“Maybe I should save your ass more often.”

-

A frigid splash of water to my cheeks sent my eyes flying open and to life. The hotel room scent had me on a tiresome streak of low energy. For some reason, it just made me want to curl up and pass out. However, the daunting reality of my situation set in all too quickly for my liking. Lex and Avery burst in through the main door, bouncing off the walls with excitement.

Apparently we had all been invited to some crazy postgame party by some of the other teams’ players and things were going to get crazy as soon as the boys’ got off “work”. I was totally fine with that idea, but it meant that I would be in for another night alone. The last thing I wanted was another paralyzing migraine and the temptation that was having Patrice in my bed.

Patrice in my bed, on the other hand, didn’t actually sound like that bad of a temptation. I mean, think about it. Unless instigated, Patrice Bergeron would not just go for it. At least, not with me he wouldn’t. Suddenly he’s trying to get buddy-buddy, flirt, and act like some kind of teddy bear. While I would normally vote to mess with and maybe push him a little bit, some Bergeron temptation could be exactly what I need to gather information.

“You guys can go without me. I have the single seat, anyway, so it’s not like I’ll be in epic company,” I laughed, waving my ticket around. Practically delusional with lack of sleep, I added, “I’m prolly not going to party postgame either. See if any of our favorite boys wants to stay and keep me company! Preferably, y’know, the one that needs a shave?”

-

“Holy shit,” I outwardly cursed, finding myself alone in the darkness of my hotel room. I hadn’t bothered turning on a single light aside from the little one at the room’s desk. It provided almost as much illumination in the room as the moonlight did shining in through the window.

I had the game on the radio, bursting through my lap top speakers in the background as I really didn’t feel like buying the NHL channel on the TV. As I paced back and forth, raking my fingers through my hair, I continued my small rant. “Fuck, they totally took that seriously. Fuck, now he’ll be here in like an hour and a half. Fuck, I need to do my hair. Fuck! I have nothing planned! Fuck! I am an idiot. Fuck. I am so fucked.”

I let out one last anxious, frustrated groan and flopped down onto my bed. “Relax,” I whispered to myself and fixated my eyes on the ceiling, “You can use this to your advantage. I mean, it’s not like I can use Lex for accurate information anymore, so what the hell’s the point in trying with her? Avery is too smart. The last thing I want is for her to start questioning my… Well, why I’m asking so many questions. And especially about their pasts. That’ll just make me look weird.”

What if I- “No, no that is a horrible idea. He’ll flip the hell out if he realizes what I’m doing. Although… He already knows that I manipulated Looch…”

What if I did tell Bergeron a bit of what’s going on? If anyone, he should know shit tons about Blake and especially loads of details on Tera. Guys tell each other stuff that they don’t tell girls. That’s just how it is. There was, however, a great deal of hesitance brought about with this proposition. Should I tell Patrice my motives, there’s no turning back. There would be no more lying to him or his friends because, face it, he’s a loyal guy. He will not stand for my shameless manipulations or my bold faced lies the moment he figured out the truth. That would be just…

Well, that would end me.

But what if I found a way to get information out of him without endangering myself? What if… What if I can make him keep quiet… Like… Like a guilt trip…?

A thin little smile, evil as it was brilliant, spread my lips in a triumphant show for the full-body mirror across the room. I was gleaming at that moment with a fervor stronger than anything I had felt for the length of this past forty-five days. Exactly how I would pull off the plan in my clearing mind, I knew all too well. The very thought of it tingled my spine like steaming water to the fingers of a man trapped in snow.

-

A few knocks at my room door had me immediately on my feet. Straightening out the dark blue Hollister skirt clinging low on my hips, I checked myself leisurely in the mirror. It was short, just long enough to be presentable and just short enough to be enticing. I never thought I’d say this, but thank god for slutty teenagers. I had, on the other hand, a loose cream-colored t-shirt from the same store to offset the blatantly revealing nature of the skirt. It fell just over one of my shoulders, revealing my collar bone and not much more.

Grinning myself in the mirror, I ran over to the door.

Patrice stood rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, peering down the hall. His scruff had completely disappeared and in its place was a small, knowing smile at the sight of my own. I didn’t bother saying anything. After motioning for him to enter, I just shut the door, slow as possible, allowing his eyes to sink into my appearance.

“Be careful, your beard isn’t there to catch your drool,” I shot with a smug smirk and moved right passed him to my suitcase.

“Yeah, well, that’s your fault. What exactly is with the uh,” he animatedly cleared his throat, “change in attire?”

I could practically feel him swallow hard when I bent down to snatch my pajama pants off the floor. Slipping them on under the skirt and slipping said thing off, I turned back to him. “Just trying some new stuff on. Bought it yesterday and sat around in it to see how it fit.”

“Couldn’t fit better.”

I half smiled, brow narrowing, “Yeah, I bet.”

“So you requested my company for the night. I’m flattered,” he stated blankly, falling back onto my bed and opening my lap top.

“It helps that I was practically loopy from lack of sleep. That’s fixed now, so I’m almost wondering if I should kick you out.”

“No, no, you love flirting with me too much. I am, after all, your weakness remember?”

“Was,” I countered. “Wanna watch a movie? I saw an old commercial with Batman in it and now I kind of want to watch it.”

Patrice shrugged, “Whatever you want. I doubt they have it on the hotel On Demand, though. We can always see if there’s a twenty-four hour movie rental place or something.”

“No, too lazy.”

“Well aren’t you just a bundle of energy.”

“Ray not ordered this.”

“Actually, she did.”

“Damn you for being more intelligent than a door stop.”

“Once again, you ordered this.”

I found myself sitting at the edge of the bed, swinging my feet like a child off of the end. Patrice lay quiet behind me rapping his fingers against the comforter. An odd heat crept up my neck, generated by my own body and yet its source was clearly the boy behind me. Weird enough, I knew exactly why. His eyes were clearly fixated on my body, shamelessly wandering up and down my back. When I finally had the brains to glance at him in the corner full mirror angled at the two of us, I realized that he had a small smile, dreamy and simple, perched on his pouty lips.

Hop to it, while he’s still thinking googly thoughts you can take advantage of.

Eyes fluttering shut, I fell back limp onto the bed, arms splayed above my head with my slightly damp hair. He stayed exactly where he was and silently kept his eyes on me. “For a guy with such a busy mouth, I feel like I know nothing about you,” I finally whispered. There was no need for my outdoor voice and I supposed that whispering made this seem more… personal.

“There’s not much to know.”

“Bull,” I sang until I had to take a breath, “Shit.”

“Hey, I don’t like people getting to know me. What can I say?”

“Yeah, yeah… Don’t be a smartass,” I shot back and sat up. At that point I had completely turned myself around on the bed, moved about a foot closer to his horizontal laying position before the headboard, and hugged my knees to my chest. All the while, he watched me carefully but with an odd little playful grin that was specific only to the more dick-like side of Bergeron’s personality. There was something about the mischievous glint in his eyes that had me feeling encouraged to push him. Maybe he would comply with the little idea in my head. “But seriously. Tell me something about you that I or the general public don’t know.”

“Give it up,” he teased and stuck his tongue out at me like some kind of damn ten-year-old. “I’m a lock box.”

Laughing, I replied, “Fine, if you want to know why I really don’t like telling people my personal stories, it’s because they’re, well, personal. And they’re not exactly rainbows and butterflies. My past, and this isn’t to sound like some stupid cliché movie character, is not a thing of beauty.” Heaving a heavy sigh and quieting down dramatically, I stared at my lap and chewed on my bottom lip. “It just… Well, it makes me feel a little sick thinking about how bad I’ve fucked up in the past. I’d rather not recall the events that have made me basically… hate myself.”

He stared at me for a second, a blank shadow following the drop of his playful grin. Unable to handle the silence, I moved to sitting on my knees. I then moved closer to him for the sake of punching him in the shoulder and breaking the heavy, dark silence surrounding the boy. “And if you’re going to be a smartass and play it my way, at least be original.”

“I didn’t realize you had that many issues,” he replied quietly as though I completely hadn’t assaulted him. His hand snatched my own before I could completely pull back from his shoulder. Without hesitation, I sat by his side, right beside his waist. Patrice lay propped up on the arm nearest me so his chest would be open to my own and his right hand could hold mine from withdrawal.

To my surprise, heat rose on my cheeks upon realizing that my hand was far warmer than his own. That basically meant that he had been touching me for two seconds too long. That once sympathetic expression turned to a small smirk, tempting as it was terrifying. He studied me for a moment before shooting back his reply, “If I cared enough to think up some new material, this would be kind of pathetic. You’re not the only lazy one here. And for the record, if you want to get to know me, it’ll cost you.”

His final sentence was stated with an obviously joking sneer, but it sparked a plot in my mind that I couldn’t quite resist. As a matter of fact, I chose to put it into play without a moment’s hesitation because I was almost ashamed to think I had taken so long to figure it out. As his eyes wandered over my face and his brow wiggled with joking suggestiveness, I decided to take advantage of his partially laying position and slowly gravitate toward him.

At first Patrice looked severely confused, but rather unafraid. Chests parallel to one another and a leg on either side of his belt later, he looked as though I had pulled a gun on him. “Should I be scared or extremely excited?” He added some specific pronunciation to his two final words as pushed him down with a defiant little smile. He quieted down dramatically, a clueless jaw-agape eliciting a little laugh from my throat.

“Where’s that sharp tongue of yours, Bergeron?”

“It’s currently interested in hearing exactly what the hell is up with you on me.”

“You said getting to know you would cost me. And by the way you’ve been mentally,” I leaned down and dragged my lips from his nose to his cheek, where I pressed a small kiss on his newly smooth skin, “undressing me for the last half hour,” my lips moved to his opposite cheek and rested there for a moment, “I figured I might as well go off the fact that there’s a little truth in everything we say and do,” I continued to murmur as I settled my lips mere hairs from his own and lazily stared up into his fogging dark eyes, “So how about it?”

I give you what you want; you give me what I want.”