Sweet, Sweet Superstar

You know it's a bad sign when your head is pounding before you have even become fully awake, your eyes still shut peacefully, but the blinding pain is just beyond the layers of your brain, starting at the base of your skull and slowly seeping all over. I was having one of those mornings where the hangover was one of the worst I had experienced, which came directly from the vast amount of vodka I had consumed the night before. But I was a freshman at the University of Minnesota, and it was my first party at the hockey house; of course I was going to go crazy. Apparently, I went too crazy though.

I moved my legs cautiously and slowly, turning my face to press into the padding beneath my head. I yawned, hating the way my head pounded with each movement. My mouth was dry, but thankfully there was no queasy feeling in my stomach. I would take a bad headache and a dry mouth over the constant throwing up that had been known to happen. My legs hit another pair of legs, the hair on them an indication that it was most definitely a man, or a woman who had never heard of a razor. I snapped my eyes open immediately, regretting it as the sun burned my pupils making them shrink with the light. I groaned softly, feeling my right arm tingle from being asleep for probably hours. I moved my fingers, the prickly feeling making me squirm uncomfortably.

I fluttered my eyes, trying to process information past the pulsing in my head, the blood trying to burst my skull open. I finally was able to register the white wall across the bed from where I was, the wall bare except for the window that was so rudely letting the light in. I shifted, feeling the chest of the person I was laying on, definitely muscular and toned. I did a quick check, feeling my clothes on along with my undergarments. I looked down, frowning when I saw a pair of sweatpants on that weren't mine plus a t-shirt that I didn't remember wearing last night. The number 12 was adorning my right thigh and I traced the maroon letter, gold outlining the edges of the numbers.

I let my eyes flutter closed, too nauseated by my headache to be concerned with who I was laying on. I just hoped he was hot. I snuggled into his chest, enjoying the way his arms wrapped tighter around my body, his hands pressing into my back and slowly beginning to move in soft circles. I reveled in the feeling, not having this much contact with a man in a year, when my ex dumped me for some girl who was an obvious downgrade. I squeezed the guy's middle, taking a deep breath, and inhaling his scent.

I gathered enough courage to lift my head, getting ready for my headache to escalate by a good ten volts. I slowly pushed myself away from his chest, his hands dipping from my middle down to rest on my lower back, a couple of his fingers resting against my backside. I looked down at his face, my eyes widening to take up half of my face as my mouth dropped open.

"Ohmygod." The words spilled from my mouth in a quick breath as I stared down at Tony Lucia, a forward on the gopher hockey team and the boyfriend of my imagination since his freshman year at the U. All of a sudden, the feeling of his hands resting my lower back made me shiver. The close contact of his chest against mine was almost too much to bare as I looked down at the sleeping hockey player, contemplated laying back down, to saver the last couple minutes or however long I had before he would wake up and we were thrust into an awkward moment.

But I had one question. How the hell did I wake up in Tony Lucia's bed? I laid back down on his chest, my mind racing and doing nothing to help the hangover. I closed my eyes, breathing in deep, matching my intake of breaths with Tony. The pieces of the night before started to fall into place and I felt myself shaking against Tony's body, praying that he didn't remember as much as I did.
***

Finally, after being on campus for a week, I was finally going to be attending my first college party, not to mention that it would be at the hockey house. Freshman were rarely asked or allowed to attend, but my best friend Kara had been able to get an in through Nick Leddy, a friend of the family who was also a hockey player and freshman on the team. He had run into Kara on campus and invited her and any other friends she wants to bring. Kara barely got the sentence out before I was screaming yes, running into my room to get ready. There was no way I would pass up a chance to be in the same place as Tony Lucia.

But now that I was standing in the living room, looking across the room at where Tony stood with a group of his teammates, laughing loudly at a joke, I suddenly wasn't so convinced that I could do this. I grabbed Kara's hand and tugged on it, pulling her out of the conversation with Nick Leddy. I smiled politely at him and whispered in Kara's ear.

"Tony is here."

"Of course he is. It's his house." She rolled her eyes at my stupidity.

"I want to meet him, but I'm scared." I whimpered softly, glancing nervously at the forward who thankfully had no girls around him. He nursed a beer in his hand, licking his lips as he watched Jake Cepis tell a story with multiple different hand gestures. From the looks of it, I didn't really want to know what he was saying.

"All you need is a little liquid courage," Kara told me, leading the way to the kitchen as if she actually knew her way around the place. She grabbed me a red cup, pouring straight vodka into it. I wrinkled my nose at it and pointed to the cranberry juice that was next to the bottle on the counter that acted as a makeshift bar. She rolled her eyes but poured in the red liquid, swirling it once and handing it to me. I took a sip, cringing slightly as the liquid slid down my throat with a slight burn, but it was much appreciated.

After two cups of the tasty concoction later, I was feeling beyond tipsy and at straight up sloppy drunk. I had never drank until the summer before I came here, only a couple months before this moment and my tolerance was beyond low. I wished Kara would have been next to me when I noticed that Tony was alone, heading towards the kitchen. But she wasn't instead she was across the room, chatting up Mike Hoeffel who loved the attention he was receiving from the pretty girl. Tony maneuvered around people, cutting and weaving through the crowd until he was at the kitchen doorway. I didn't even think before I sprang, wrapping my arms around his waist and placing my cheek against his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart.

"Um, hi," Tony chuckled softly, his fingers going to my chin and slowly tilting my face up so he was looking down at me.

If I had been sober, I probably would have been extremely embarrassed as to what I did next, but I was too far gone to be thinking before I was acting. I grabbed his chin, ignoring the small rational part of me left that screamed for me not to do it, and smashed my lips to his, making sure to drag my tongue across his bottom lip. Tony stumbled backwards as I placed all of my weight against him before he regained his footing.

He didn't respond at first, letting me assault his lips before he began to react, his arms wrapping around my waist tightly as he backed me up against the counter, his lips moving with mine in perfect sync. My hands ran across to his stomach and then up his chest to wrap around his neck. My fingers dove into the thick, brown locks at the base of his neck, the fine hairs curling into perfect c's around my fingers. Tony pulled away first, his lust filled gave staring down at me as I grinned up at him.

"Do I know you?" He breathed out, his hands resting respectfully on my hips. The one time I wanted a guy to have wandering hands, he was respectful, figures.

"No, but you're about to." I grinned up at him as his heart paused in mid-beat, his eyes turning three shades darker to a deep emerald. He licked his lips, taking in a deep breath as he blinked, glancing past me to the counter where the drinks were. He sighed, lacing our fingers together and walking back over to where all the alcohol was.

"Let's sober you up a bit more, doll." He grinned. I shrugged my shoulders as he gave me a bottle of water, setting his hands respectfully on my lips to lead me from the kitchen. I used him for support, cursing myself for getting drunk and wearing heels on the same night. Tony lead me through the throng of people and to the stairs, our linked hands helping us stay together. He turned around as we got to the steps, looking me up and down.

"Hop on," he murmured, turning his back to me once again and helping me jump on. I laid my head forward in between his shoulder blades, sighing softly as he walked up the stairs, grabbing my bottle of water as it slipped from my grip. I giggled softly at it, wondering how the hell I had gotten so lucky.

Tony opened the last door on the right once we reached the stairs, setting me on his bed before he laid down next to me, giving me the bottle of water. I took a sip, looking at him over the bottle, the condensation dripping onto the bed while another bead dripped down my arm. Tony studied me, his head tilted to the side as I yawned softly, cursing the alcohol for making me tired.

"How old are you?" He asked me, his eyes narrowed at mine.

"Eighteen," I whispered softly, watching as he smiled, nodding.

"Good, you're legal." His smile stretched into a grin and I tried to keep my composure as his eyes dipped momentarily to my breasts which were accented very nicely by my low cut shirt and my push up bra, both doing wonders in the eyes of Tony. "What's your name?" He reached out to me, pulling me into his chest once again.

"Brianna," I murmured back to him as my head hit his chest, the feeling of being close to him almost sending me over the brink and into the squealy girl mode. But my body was too tired to tolerate that at the moment.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl." He told me, his lips brushing against the top of my head as he absently raked my fingers through my hair. My heart pounded painfully in my chest as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to figure out if this was a dream or if Tony Lucia was really holding me to his chest, his hands stroking my hair and back as if I was important to him.

"Tony," I whispered softly to him, feeling my eyes starting to drift close. There was something I wanted to tell him, something I would never ever have the courage to say unless I was about to blackout, which was apparent to the both of us.

"Hm?"

"I love you." I whimpered out, my hands balling up into fists, dragging his shirt into my grip also. He didn't say anything back, but he didn't move away, telling me that he wasn't completely freaked out by my confession. I slipped asleep as Tony began to speak, his words lost in the fog of the alcohol as I lost a grip on the real world, falling into a world that didn't exist except for in my dreams.
***

"Fuck," I muttered louder than I had meant too. I looked down at Tony again, seeing him still asleep. I bit my lip, squeezing my eyes and wanting to slap myself across the face. I was never drinking again, especially not around any of the hockey boys. But I couldn't say I regretted the fact that I was waking up in Tony's bed. No, I just regretted the I love you that had dropped off of my lips like nothing.

Tony began to move under me as I quickly looked around the room, trying to find a way to escape from the room without him noticing me. I was not feeling well enough to have the awkward morning after moment. But it was too late because not even seconds later, Tony was sitting up next to me, his hand rubbing over his face. He grabbed his glasses off the bedside table, before setting his eyes on me.

"Brianna, right?" He asked me. I nodded meekly, biting my lip nervously as he nodded. "How do you feel?" He asked me as he slipped from the bed. My eyes widened as he slipped a pair of sweatpants up over his plaid boxers, his chest still bare. I hadn't even noticed that he had been practically naked under me. My heart seemed to slam harder against my chest walls and I feared Tony was able to hear it in the silent room.

"Um, like crap." I muttered sheepishly, looking down at his blue comforter. I pulled my lip into my mouth all the way, using it as a distraction from the beautiful green eyes that were glistening across the room. I heard him chuckle softly as he reached a hand out for me.

"Come on, let's get some food in you." I grabbed his outstretched hand, letting him tug me off of the bed and then steady me when I wobbly took a step. I wasn't sure if it was the fact that Tony was so close, or if it was a hangover symptom.

I trailed behind Tony, holding his hand as he lead me down the stairs to the kitchen where various of his teammates were, all with somber and long faces, telling me they felt the same way as I did. They all glanced at Tony and I, most of them doing double takes. Tony ignored them, grabbing his keys from the counter before re-taking my hand.

"We're not staying?" I whispered at him. He looked at me pursing his lips against the laughter as the soft voices of his teammates began to fill the kitchen.

"No. Trust me Bri, you don't want to stay here." He chuckled, pulling me from the hockey house. Did he just call me Bri? I shook my head, regretting it as the pounding started to resurface, my body settling down and getting accustomed to Tony touching me, but that's not to say that my hand wasn't still tingling where it was loosely laced in his. This was definitely something I could get used to.

"Any place you want to go for, well, it's lunch time now," he chuckled softly, looking at me.

"Uh, no preference." I told him. The silence swirled around us as Tony drove off of campus, heading towards downtown St. Paul. I glanced over at him nervously, trying to figure out why he was being so hospitable. He didn't have to help me when I got shit faced last night. He didn't have to offer up his bed to me. He could have left me in the kitchen, vulnerable for any guy who wanted a piece. He was nothing like the hockey players I had known. "Hey Tony, can I ask you something?" I murmured once we were in the small cafe he had taken me to.

"Yeah?" He asked, looking at me over the glass of water he was taking a sip out of.

"Why are you doing all of this?" I murmured to him, letting my nervousness show as I fiddled with the wrapper of my straw.

"You seem like a nice girl who got a little too caught up in the party. You're beautiful and you definitely don't know it. And you just look like someone who is laid back and that I can have fun with. Plus, after the deep, meaningful I love you, it's the least I could do." He started laughing when he repeated the three words that made me blush, not because I had said them last night, but because he was saying them right now, and the irrational part of me believed for a second that he really did love me.

"Yeah, last night was not one of my finer moments," I tried to force out a laugh but was physically unable to do it. I raked my hand through my hair, turning to look out the cafe window at the people walking down the sidewalk. A hand slid onto mine, his fingers enclosing around mine and squeezing tight.

"Hey, we all have those moments," he grinned at me as I smiled back hesitantly.

"I guess, but I promise I'm rarely like that. I was such a good girl before I got to college." I giggled, remembering how when I was in high school I was the girl who opted to stay at home instead of going out and getting wasted, but then again I had been involved in a sport.

"I figured." The waitress came with our sandwiches, setting them down on the green table top before scurrying off to her other tables.

"So tell me about you," he murmured halfway through the meal. I chewed thoughtfully, looking into his soft green eyes.

"What do you want to know?" I asked him.

"When is your birthday?" He started, leaning back after finishing his sandwich. I giggled at how fast he had ate and set my sandwich on the plate.

"August 27th."

"Really? We're August babies. I was born on the 23rd." I looked at him, pursing my lips and nodding. "You already knew that." He stated more than asked.

"Yeah, but in my defense, it's in the Gopher program." Tony and I shared a soft laugh as he turned to look out the window, thinking of more questions.

"What's your full name?" He bit his lip, waiting for the answer.

"Brianna Marie Tahti." I smiled at him, blushing as he grinned.

"Alright. Any older brothers I should be aware of? boyfriends?"

"No and no. I'm single and I have an older sister who is about to get married." I informed him as his green eyes shone back at me.

"How long have you been a fan?" He murmured, leaning forward, his lips pursed into an adorable smile.

"Since the moment I saw you your freshman year." I smirked at him as he nodded, liking my response.

"So then I guess I don't need to introduce myself properly?" He grinned as I nodded, not feeling embarrassed at all. He sat back in the booth. "Well, Brianna. I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship." My smile dropped off of my face as he turned to the waitress and handed her a 20. I bit my lip to hold back an obvious frown. Friends? I thought things had been going well. Tony stood up and I followed behind him, trying not to feel to dejected at the way he knew I wanted him but still shot me down.

"One more question?" Tony asked me as we slid into his car. I nodded, looking over at him. "Smile for me?"

"That's a statement." I corrected him, biting the corner of my lip.

"No, I used the proper inflection. It's a question. Now do it. See, that was a statement"

"No, it was a demand," I told him letting the grin sprout across my face. The two of us giggle and even though I wanted more, I agreed with Tony; this was the start of a beautiful friendship. I just hoped it would quickly turn into more.