The Warrior

Irene sighed and carefully painted a swift curve in black, rounding off the edges and attaching it to the shaft of the hockey stick. It leaned against the bright red pole of the goal post in the painting, adding more color to the gray-blue mountains and frozen pond. She dropped the brush in an empty coffee can at her feet and stepped back, placing her paint covered hand on her hip and tilted her head, admiring the mural. It wasn't finished, or close to it because Irene was a perfectionist and she would still be working on the painting weeks from now.
"Looks good."
Irene spun around on her heel and saw Duncan leaning in the doorway. He was a handsome man, she'd give him that, but it was hard to see past the hockey player to see the man. She detested his profession so much.
"Thank you." Irene wiped her hands off on her torn and paint stained jeans. "Do you know what time it is?" She asked him and glanced out of the single window in the room. The night was getting darker and she regretted working this late again. Irene kneeled and began to pack her things.
"Around nine thirty...Hey I was wondering-" His words caught. She sat back on her heels and looked up at him with a questioning face.
"You want to go get a drink with me in a bit..or something?"
Irene shook her head but admired him for his courage. "I don't drink." She left it at that, not about to tell him she had a late night date with a small crowd and a loud band.
Music was just another way she liked to wind down after a busy week and she was waiting for this show for a while.
"Oh, uh, I'm going to see this band tonight. You interested in coming along?" He rubbed the back of his neck with his large hand and she stood, grabbing her bucket of supplies and struggling with her bag.
"Here, I'll get that." Duncan moved forward to pull the bucket away from her.
"Thanks. Where is the show?" She inquired, not believing that they could possibly be seeing the same band.
"The Beat Kitchen..It's really small and cozy, but I think you'll like it."
Irene chuckled and started out of the room with Duncan following her.
"I don't know if you'll believe me, but I was already going to go to that show."
Maybe she could see past the hockey player and into the man. Already his music choice impressed her. She would never imagine that Duncan Keith, a muscular athlete who made half a million in a year would be into indie rock.
"I guess it was meant to be. Will you come with me?" The corner of his mouth was tilted up hopefully and his dark blue eyes.
"Uh, yeah." Irene said and threw her things into the trunk of her clunker and stepped aside so Duncan could gently put the bucket in the back.
"Should I pick you up? In like, a half hour?" He looked unsure and that endeared him to Irene. It proved he wasn't as cocky as she had originally thought.
"Sure." She pulled a permanent marker out of her pocket and wrote her address on his hand before opening the driver's side door and climbing in.
"See you in a half an hour?" Duncan asked to be sure and Irene nodded before closing the door and driving off.
When he entered his friend's house again, Brent was flipping through the channels on the large television in the front room.
"What was that?" He asked nonchalantly.
"I've got a date with Irene."
"Whose Irene?" Brent questioned, turning to look at his best friend.
"The painter?" He looked at him like he was completely obtuse.
"She's cute, Duncs. Do work." Brent turned back towards the television and continued to flip through channels. "Tell me what she's like when she's out of her shell."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Duncan narrowed his eyes as he grabbed his leather jacket from the back of the couch.
"She seems really shy and quiet." He said.
Duncan pulled on his jacket and before he left, he told Brent, "I'm shy and quiet."