According to Him

Vancouver was beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful, even from high up in a banquet room, the colors and light, along with the wintry air, added to the scenic atmosphere. I gazed out the window as Patrick made his rounds around the room, talking politely to anyone who stopped him, congratulating him for an already great season, and for making the Olympic team. His blue eyes sparkled intensely whenever anyone told him what a feat it was, because he knew it was. He was proud of himself, even borderline cocky about his acceptance onto the team.

My fingers touched the cool glass of the window, gazing out at the city of twinkling lights, bright against the dark night sky. It felt like heaven, floating about the people who bustled around Vancouver, the sweet talking of the people around me like a soft melody as I wrapped my arms around myself, living in the moment. I watched in the window, acting as a mirror, as Patrick walked up behind me, his arms encircling my waist as he pulled me back into his chest, his cheek nuzzling against mine.

"Hi, I'm sorry you've been off on your own," he murmured into my ear, his teeth grazing the lobe as he tugged playfully.

"It's alright. I'm fine alone Patrick," I assured him, sighing softly as the sweet scent of his cologne wrapped around my senses.

"You shouldn't have to be though, I begged you to come," he smirked against my skin, his tongue trailing along my jaw bone. "You look incredible tonight. So beautiful." His breath was hot against the wetness of my skin, making me shiver as his hands ran up and down my sides.

"I have a free day tomorrow, only a light morning skate, and then I'll take you around Vancouver. Show you off the the world, literally. We can go shopping, eat some lunch, and then camp out at the hotel for some other extra curricular activities," he suggested, his teeth nipping at the skin on my collar bone.

"Patrick, don't give me a hickey in front of all these important people," I begged him, my voice almost pleading with him to continue. The feeling of him nipping at my flesh was so incredible, indescribably really, just like Patrick.

"Why? Like they care. We're young and in love, and if anyone has a problem with it, they're just jealous," He whispered, his tongue trailing over my now bruised skin. I wanted to whine at him for giving me what I deliberately asked him not to, but I could care less if my skin was red and irritated from the mouth of my boyfriend. His love bite was a token of his love.

"You're too good to me," I mused to him, turning around so I could be closer to him, my front pressed to his as my high heels gave me a couple more inches on him, though he still towered over me. I looked into his eyes, the blue specks in them more pronounced as he looked down at me. His eyes were only this beautiful when he looked at me, or so Brianna had said. "You're the only one he looks at like that Karabear," she told me after we had been dating for six months, "it's like you're the only thing he sees." I used to think my best friend was crazy, but the way Pat was looking down at me, I could see what she was talking about.

Patrick cradled me to his chest as a three piece orchestra performed some soft music, light and airy just like the night. Patrick rocked us softly, only our hips and upper body moving as my head rested on his chest, listening to the distinct thumping of his heart. I wanted to stay in this position for ever, our tight embrace as we swayed to soft music.

"Patrick, I've been looking all over for you!" A female exclaimed who I recognized from the media relations section of the team. "ESPN wants to interview you quick," she grasped his arm, pulling him away from me. Patrick smiled apologetically at me, mouthing that he would be back in a second. I nodded in understanding, a little disappointed but I knew Patrick didn't have a choice.

The rest of the night was much the same, Patrick would sneak back to me, we would sway to the music, murmuring sweet nothings to each other until the same black haired bitch would steal him away for another TV or radio program who wanted to talk to him. It was frustrating, but what's a girl to do? There was no point in getting upset about something he had no control over.

Finally, the banquet ended, both of us exhausted from the long day, our eyelids heavy and droopy as we sat in the back of the limo as they brought us back to the hotel I was staying at. Patrick wasn't staying with me since only athletes were allowed in the Olympic Village. I hated going to bed without him, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. The limo stopped at my hotel, a five star, one of the best in Vancouver, where Patrick had insisted that I stay. Only the best for his baby.

"I'll call you after my skate," Patrick spoke softly as he led me into the building to the elevators.

"Okay, skate hard." I smiled to him, kissing his puckered lips because he loved getting smooches.

"I will. Sleep tight, call me if you can't sleep, I'll sing to you," he winked but dead serious.

"Alright Patty. I love you," I whispered, standing on my tippy toes and kissing him once more before giving him a tight squeeze.

"I love you too, baby. So much." He kissed me again, unable to hold back from kissing me, not that I was complaining.

"Bye Patrick," I breathed out, sad to see him walk away. He started to walk away from me, his hand pulling on mine as he headed back to the lobby, the elevator dining, announcing it's arrival. I sighed and turned from my moppy headed boyfriend, and stepping into the steel contraption. The doors slid shut as Patrick turned, blowing me one last kiss before heading into the Vancouver night.
***

"Oh! This is pretty?!" I asked Patrick, holding up a black V neck top to my boyfriend who was leaning against the wall next to the rack.

"Does it show cleavage?" He asked me, raising an eyebrow.

"Would you like me to try it on, Casanova?" I retorted, rolling my eyes as he nodded eagerly. I sashayed to the dressing room, shaking my butt deliberately for my boyfriend, giving him a little show as I was being shown a room by the store employee and shutting the door as Patrick tried to sneak in with me.

"Okay. You're only allowed to try things on if I can go in with you," he complained, huffing and puffing as he paced outside of my door.

"Patrick." I warned him as he grumbled under his breath. I slipped off my USA hockey sweatshirt and pulled on the top, grinning in the mirror as it fit my curves deliciously, accenting all of my assets, including the ever important cleavage. I tugged the door open, catching my boyfriends attention as he stopped pacing halfway through his next pass, his mouth falling open as his eyes dipped to the V.

"I'm getting that for you." He concluded, rushing into the room and pinning me against the wall as he slammed the door shut. His face went directly to my cleavage as he nuzzled his face against it, his tongue sliding over the mounds of flesh. I moaned softly, my hands coming to tangle up in his soft, blonde, curls as he grabbed the back of my thighs, hoisting me up against the wall.

"Pat.."

"Kara, shush." He scolded me, his hands running to my backside and gripping it tightly in his hands. I blushed as the sales lady knocked on the door, asking if I needed a different size or anything.

"No," I squeaked out, my voice practically gone as Patrick nipped and flicked at my ear lobe. "Patrick, stop, please," I hissed at him.

"Do you really want me to stop?" He asked, pulling away his eyes holding an amused glint.

"I do not have sex in public." The truth was, I was willing to break that for Patrick, but I was worried that I wouldn't be able to hold the screams in when he took me for a ride. "Out," I pointed to the door.

"Just change," he rolled his eyes, "I'll guard the door." He chuckled at his own joke, his eyes twinkling.

"Patrick."

"Kara, people are going to know whether we walk out together of not," he told me. I sighed and shrugged, pulling the top off and slipping my sweatshirt back on. Patrick grabbed the top from me as I picked up my purse and fixed Patrick's hair as I walked behind him. I had been tugging at his locks while his mouth had been attacking me, making him have the sex hair look.

After buying the top, Patrick and I walked hand and hand down the street. He pointed out some other shops that I might want to go to but I just shrugged, telling him I didn't really mind. Finally, after point out a fifth store I might want to go into, Patrick sighed, puling me to a stop.

"Baby, I need to go to a few places." He confessed running a hand through his curly locks.

"That's fine." I smiled at him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"I'll call you when I'm done and we can meet up again," Patrick told me, kissing me on the cheek this time before he sauntered away into the crowd of people. I watched him walk away, his hands shoved in his pockets as he looked from left to right, the wind blowing his hair up a bit. I shook my head, grinning at how good he looked in his jeans.

Shopping without Patrick was a lot easier than when I was with him. Without all the constant distractions, I was able to pick up a cute pair of boots and some jeans to boot, all of what I bought to be thrown together into an adorable outfit for one of mine and Patrick's date nights. I bought a necklace and some earrings to match since my accessories always needed to match.

Patrick called me a little after four, telling me to meet him at a spot by the ocean. I made my way down there, weaving my way though people and streets until I spotted my boyfriend, settled on a bench. I smiled as I made my way to him with all my bags, approaching him and studying the way he lazily sat on the bench, his eyes scanning the horizon. He had one arm thrown over the back of the bench, his legs spread wide, and looking so delicious, like he popped out of a magazine meant to boost estrogen in a woman.

"Hey you," I called to him, running my hand over his head and dipping my face to give him a kiss.

"Hey," he breathed out, smiling as I sat down, cuddling into his warm body. "You got some goodies."

"Just some stuff to go with my top," I smirked at him, winking at his wild grin. "What did you get?" He smiled down at me, kissing the tip of my nose.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Well, yeah, that's why I asked," I rolled my eyes, perking up when I realized it was something important.

"I can't give it to you right now," he whispered softly, his thumbs spreading out across my cheek bones as his hands cupped my face lovingly. His lips pressed to mine softly, making my body melt into him instantly.

"Okay," I murmured, my mind completely scattered from his kiss. "When?"

"Soon."
***

Tears of distress ran down my face as I sobbed softly, Brianna's comforting hand on my back doing nothing for my emotions.

"This isn't fair. They worked too hard." I sobbed, watching as the Canadians danced around the ice in victory, successfully beating the Americans in the Gold medal game.

"I know. But you win some you lose some." Brianna suggested.

"You don't understand. Your boyfriend is hopping and hollering down there because he just won Gold. But do you see Patrick? I've never seen him so upset." I muttered to her, pointing to Patrick.

"He's okay. He's just upset."

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. There were so many things I wanted to blame the outcome of the game on. It wasn't fair that they fought so hard, the Americans of course, and came out with only a Silver when they deserved Gold. I sighed in defeat as Patrick shook hands with the Canadians, a sad look gracing his baby face.

"Baby," I whimpered down to him, seeing the utter heartbreak that he was trying to hard to hide. He looked up at me, usually not one to scope me out, and his eyes told me everything. He needed to me. I nodded down to him, already grabbing my stuff and heading down to the waiting area.

An hour passed and Brianna had already left with Brent, with his stupid Gold medal draped around his neck. She hugged me and told me to give Pat a hug for her but I shrugged knowing he wouldn't want it. I was nervous about what would happen when him and all of his other teammates were back on the same team in Chicago, several gold medals and a couple silvers, it didn't seem fair. But life wasn't fair, and certainly the game of hockey wasn't either.

Patrick emerged from the locker room a half hour after Brianna and Brent had left, a hat cover his eyes and his Silver medal in his jacket pocket, the cloth it hung on draping out of his pocket. He walked over to me, not saying a word just dropping his hockey bag and pulling me into a hug. I pursed my lips as he squeezed me tight, his shoulders shaking just slightly as he cried. I was surprised by the showing of his emotions in such a public place and way, but I held him and rubbed his back until he was okay again. He leaned back, taking in a deep breath and looking down at me, his eyes holding no evidence that he had been crying.

"Ready?" He asked me, lacing our fingers together.

"Yeah." I nodded, following him out of the building and to a city car that had been hired to chauffeur me around. "Wait, aren't you going on the bus?" I asked him as he slid in next to me.

"No, we're going somewhere." He told me, kissing my cheek and pulling me tightly into his body.

"Oh?"

"Yes, but for now, just enjoy the ride," he whispered, "It's going to be a long one."

I nodded and found myself exhausted from the game and the emotions that had leaked out after. My eyes drifted closed as we headed north, to where, I had no idea. I lost myself in a dream of Patrick winning the Gold medal, of me running onto the ice and leaping into his arms, kissing him like Brianna had done earlier with Brent. I imagined Patrick kissing me with no intention of stopping as the celebration whirled on around us, and when Patrick shook me awake, I was in a bad mood. Because it wasn't real life, it was a stupid dream.

I looked around as I stepped out of the car, my mouth dropping open when I realized we were in the mountains at the Westin Resort and Spa, one of the best places to get away while in the Vancouver area. My mouth dropped open as I stared up at the massive hotel, my mind complete blown away as Patrick pulled on my hand, leading me into the massive structure.

"Patrick, are you serious?" I murmured to him.

"Of course," He smiled as he grabbed out room key and walked to the elevator, pressing the up button along with the number 11.

"Baby, this place is so-"

"Kara, you deserve to be lavished. You put up with so much in Chicago and with the Olympics. I want to do this for you so let me. Please." He took my hands, kissing my knuckles softly. I smiled softly at him and grabbed his face, kissing him hard.

"Thank you." I tugged on is bottom lip as the elevator doors opened. We walked down to our room, pushing the door open to the amazing suite that matched the breathtaking exterior. The room had a mountain and woodsy feel to it, even the room smelled like pine, a reminder of my family cabin back in Minnesota. I took in a deep breath before running to the bed and jumping on it.

"Soft," I cooed to Patrick as he walked by, setting our bags down. He smiled briefly, heading out to the balcony.

"Come here," he beckoned to me, and with a crook of his finger I was next to him.

I stepped into his embrace, letting his hands work the muscles in my back and make the relax after a hard day at the rink. We looked out across the beautiful mountainous region and I found myself wishing Chicago was this beautiful and quiet. Not even the wind was loud, it was as if it was a known thing, if you were here, you had to be quiet. Every time I talked I felt like I was breaking said rule. Patrick kissed the top of my head as I curled it under his chin.

"It's so beautiful here," I mused to him, my nails scratching against his back as he groaned softly, enjoying the feeling.

"Yes it is. That's why I brought you here. You fit in," he chuckled soft as I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm serious, Karabear. You have no idea how beautiful you are."

"You tell me everyday," I murmured to him, kissing the tip of his nose. "How could I not know by now?"

I watched his eyes cloud over as he looked down at me, the lust making the sparkle in his blue eyes dim a bit. He sucked in a deep breath, pushing it out slowly.

"Kara.." He started but stopped, swallowing hard and averting his gaze from mine.

"What's on your mind?" I asked him, tugging his chin down so he had to look at me.

"I-I have something to ask you. And before I do, it's okay to say no. Because I only want you to say yes if you mean it." He stuttered out, his breath and voice shaky as his hands shook, reaching into his pocket. I tilted my head at him, studying the how nervous he was. He bit his lip and closed his eyes before sliding down to the floor to kneel on one knee. My eyes jumped out of my head as my hand flew over my opened mouth, my jaw on the floor.

"Ohmygod."

"Kara, I love you, every single part of you. Your personality is incredible, your smile takes my breath away, and hearing your voice will instantly brighten my day no matter how bad it is. I never, ever thought I would be content being with one person for the rest of my life, but you change all of that. You changed my mind. I want you for by my side or nobody at all. So, Kara, will you marry me?" He asked, biting his lip in anticipation. He was so nervous his eyebrows were drawn together as if he was in pain.

"Patrick-"

"You don't have to say yes," he blurted. "We can just forget this whole thing happened."

"Patrick.."

"I understand. I mean it's really soon-"

I leaned down, placing a hard kiss on his lips to get him to stop talking. I slid my tongue over his bottom lip, kissing him so hard that my lips were starting to hurt. "Yes." I sniffled, a couple tears slipping down my face.

"Yes?!" He exclaimed, shock evident on his face.

"Yes. A million times yes." I laughed at his boyish howl to the ceiling as he flipped the box open, revealing a beautiful diamond ring. I gasped at it, shaking my head at it's beauty, knowing that it cost him a fortune when I saw the Tiffany inscription on the top. Patrick wiped the tears from under my eyes.

"I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered to him as he slid the ring on my finger, the first step in making me Mrs. Patrick Kane.