The Right Kind of Wrong

“What’s up with that?” Gregoire frowned as he was standing in the doorway to Chris’ room, glancing at the lump laying in the middle of the bed, covers pulled over it.

“Don’t mind her,” Chris rolled his eyes slightly, sitting in the chair by his desk and leaning rather far back as he was not doing his school work on his laptop. “She’s being weird.”

“I can still hear you,” came the very muffled reply from the lump on the bed. “And shut up!”

“Good luck with her,” Gregoire laughed as he turned around and left the room, leaving Chris looking at his bed with a rather skeptical look across his face.

“Thanks,” he replied dryly. “Are you going to stay like that all day?” he wondered, biting slightly on the pen he was holding in his hand.

“Yes,” came the stubborn reply.

Sighing, he dropped the pen on the desk and stood up from the chair before climbing into the bed and all but draping himself over the large lump. “Pick yourself up and stop sulking. Everyone loses, it’s a part of sports,” he pulled the covers away from her head and kissed the top of her head.

“But I don’t like it,” Emily whined.

“I would never have guessed that you were such a sore loser,” he smiled into her hair that now resembled a bird’s nest.

“I hate losing, it just…it sucks,” she complained, managing to push him away enough for her to come out from under the covers and lay down on her back, looking up at him.

They had won their season opener, but then they had lost the three following games…Emily had not been a happy camper when she returned home, something that Chris had learned quickly.

“So pick yourself up and work harder before the next game,” he smiled softly before pressing his lips against hers.

“I am so going to tell you that the next time you lose and you’re pouting about it,” she smiled up at him. “And then you’ll know just how much it sucks hearing that.”

“Shut up or I'm kicking you out of my bed,” he glared at her, a smile still present across his lips.

“You like me in your bed,” she smirked.

“I do like you in my bed,” he had to agree.

“You love having me in your bed,” she whispered as her hands found their way beneath his shirt. “You love all the things I do to you,” she added, pressing light kisses to his jaw line and then down the side of his neck.

“Oh I do,” he breathed, capturing her lips in a heated kiss before making quick work of getting her clothes off of her.




Her head lying on his smooth chest, listening to his heart beating, Emily sighed softly as she brushed her fingers over the warm skin of his abdomen.

“This is a really good way of distracting me,” she told him.

“Works both ways sweetheart,” he kissed the top of her head, cuddling her even closer.

“I was the worst when I was a kid,” she remembered softly. “Every time I lost at something, a board game, a soccer game, anything, I was pain to deal with. I threw things everywhere, I was… I was just a really sore loser and I've never fully learned to deal with it,” she admitted softly.

“That sounds like half the team,” he shrugged slightly.

“But not you?” she raised her eyebrow. “You're all sunshine and rainbows when you lose?”

“No,” he stated frankly. “I'm just like you, I'm just better at dealing with it then you, better at hiding it.”

“These next few months are going to suck,” she noted softly.

“Why?” he frowned as he looked down at her.

“Cause if we don’t start winning, you’re not going to like me very much at the end of the season,” she admitted, her laughter sounding slightly strained.

“I'm going to like you at least as much at the end of the season as I do now,” he promised her, reaching down and gently tilting her head upwards before kissing her.

“You say that now,” she replied, clearly unconvinced. There were few things that Erik had hated as much as her mood when she lost at a soccer game when they were still in high school…

“I promise that now,” he corrected her. “I know what it’s like to loose and so what? You’ll be cranky for a few days and then you’ll be back to normal,” he smiled at her. “We’re athletes, that’s just a casualty of sports,” he added gently caressing her bar shoulder.

“Nice way with the words,” she smiled up at him. “But it did make me feel better,” she admitted. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” he brushed his lips against hers. “But now you're in debt, so you have to do the same for me when I'm sulking,” he pointed out smirking.

“I’ll just give you sex and you’ll get over it,” she shrugged, smiling widely at the look that appeared across his features.

“True,” he agreed simply as he pulled her closer, pressing his lips against hers and rolling them over, letting him be on top once again…