Sequel: Breathless

There Are Still Rules To Break

So Easy to Get Carried Away

After games five and six, must win games, the Bruins were still in it. The hometown advantage in game five mixed with the intensity on the ice gave the Bruins a win, a four to nothing win at that, over the Hurricanes. Of course, Amanda had been there to cheer on her team, to cheer on the player she could call hers, though she never did. She and Patrice hadn’t had the talk of whether they were official, but it was pretty much a silent understanding.

Ever since Patrice had come back from North Carolina after game four, Amanda had spent every moment of her day with him, either out and around Boston or at his place. So, for her to be at game five, no longer in the press box, but sitting with the rest of the Bruins’ girlfriends and wives, well, that was just a no-brainer to Patrice. Why wouldn’t she sit there?

Game six in North Carolina had turned out in the favor of the Bruins, too. Coming home with a three to two win and the series tied at three games a piece, it was down to the final minute. It would make sense that such an intense series would come down to the final game seven, and even then go to an overtime period. No matter the outcome, which all of the Bruins desperately hoped would be them going onto round three, they knew they played their toughest and best. They did what they could.

But, unfortunately their best just wasn’t good enough. The Bruins lost to the Carolina Hurricanes, thus being eliminated from the playoffs.

The feel in the locker room was one of disbelieve. It was utterly silent as the team undressed. Not only had they lost in game seven, but they had lost at home. It was tough for everyone, that didn’t need to be said. The media had been told they could come back that Monday, when the boys would be cleaning out their lockers and turning their equipment in for the summer. Not one of the boys wanted to talk to the news or reporters; being left alone was just fine with them.

“Do we go in?” Amanda asked, turning to a few of the other girls, the girlfriends and wives of the Bruins. A few of them shrugged, one shook her head, and another just sighed. None of them knew what to do. They hadn’t anticipated the outcome being a loss for their men. It was supposed to be their year. What had gone wrong?

Amanda ran a hand through her straightened hair before taking a deep breath and pushing the door to the locker room open, it closing behind her. Her eyes immediately locked with Patrice’s from his spot in the corner of the room. Despite his mood, he let out a small smile at the sight of her. Clearly, she had been the only one of the girls brave enough to enter the room after such a tough and stinging loss.

She smiled shyly, but stayed silent. Her feet began moving without her knowing, and soon she was standing straight in front of Patrice, fresh out of the shower, only a pair of boxer-briefs on. She bit her lip and sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“I’m so proud of you,” She barely whispered. Patrice smiled again, which surprised him. Usually he was the last one to let a game roll of his shoulders so easily, especially a big loss like the one they had just had. But there was something about Amanda’s comforting smile and the way she pressed herself up against him. She was silently letting him know that nothing had changed. She was still Amanda. He was still Patrice, and they still had each other.

Sighing lightly, Patrice stood from the bench, pulling his clothes on quickly, before pulling Amanda from the room, bidding his teammates a good night. After that, the rest of the girlfriends and wives piled into the room, trying to do for their men what Amanda had just done for Patrice, but they were not as successful.

. . .

Amanda woke up early (around seven AM) the morning of Monday, May 18th. She walked into the kitchen and started making a breakfast of waffles and oatmeal. She didn’t bother to change or put a robe on; it would just get in the way of cooking. So Amanda turned the radio on softly to the local country station as she bounced around the kitchen in her underwear and a tank top, something she would always do at her own place. Besides, Patrice was sleeping anyway.

He was due at the arena at ten that morning to clean out his locker and do final media interviews. She knew he wasn’t looking forward to going. Since Thursday he hadn’t brought up the loss at all. So, neither did Amanda. As Patrice pulled her out of the Garden, he asked her to stay the night. Of course Amanda had agreed, but she knew it would be more than just one night. She made her way to her own car, telling Patrice she would stop at home, get things for an overnight stay and meet him back at his place.

He had been reluctant to let her go, he had to be honest. But when she arrived at his apartment only twenty minutes after he did, he practically threw the door open to pull her into a hug. Amanda laughed and joked, telling him, “I’m not worth missing that much, Pat.” Patrice laughed with her, but all he could think about was just how much Amanda was worth missing.

She stayed with him the entire weekend. They went out to eat at her urging. Patrice would have rather stayed in his apartment, holed himself up until he had to leave. Though, he later realized that his time with Amanda out in Boston, holding her hand while they walked around the city was something he could get used to.

He had been afraid that if he got recognized and a fan brought up the loss, it would bother him. But when that did in fact happen, and Amanda’s grip on his hand tightened a bit, Patrice found himself only smiling and thanking the player, and he had truly meant it.

Amanda was almost done with making breakfast when Patrice came shuffling out of his bedroom. He breathed in deeply, smelling what she was making before wrapping his arms around her bare waist. She leaned into his touch, letting her back fall against his bare chest.

“I made breakfast,” She said, although she knew he had assumed that. Turning to him, she continued, “I have to go into the office today, finish my article about the team.” When Patrice only nodded and stayed silent, she sighed. Turning back to the griddle, she poured more batter, shooing the hockey player away from her and sending him to the table where she had already made a plate for him.

They ate in silence, but at some point, Amanda couldn’t remember when exactly, Patrice had reached his hand across the table to grab her hand. Lacing their fingers together, he kept his hand wrapped tightly in hers until they were both done eating. Telling her to leave the dishes for him to do later, he ushered her into the large bathroom urging her to use the shower first. Amanda smiled and leaned up to kiss Patrice’s cheek, but he moved and their lips were pressed together.

It would have been so easy for him to get carried away with her. She was already practically naked, as was he. It would have been so easy for him to redirect her to his bedroom, to have his way with her. He couldn’t begin to explain how bad he wanted her. The little things she did drove him nuts. Just that morning when he had walked into the kitchen to see her dancing in her underwear to the radio, he could have taken her on the table. But, of course he had good self-restraint.

Disconnecting his lips from hers, he sent her a smile before walking into the bedroom and leaving her to her shower. Biting her lip, she shook her head and closed the door, resting herself against the back of it. Sighing, she brought a hand to her head and thought about how easy it was to get so hot and heavy with Patrice. She wanted him. Bad. Of course, she had no idea that he felt exactly the same about her.
♠ ♠ ♠
For Manda, as always.

So sorry it took forever to get this out.
School and work were crazy for a bit.
Unfortunately life is still crazy.
Explanation on my profile.