Change
1/1
Patrick Kane was, to put it lightly, a player... Both on and off the ice. He had girls by the number, numbers on his phone that were there for merely booty calls, nothing else. He couldn’t put a face, or even an experience with half of them, but they were handy when he needed them. He was still a boy, growing up, but enjoying the lifestyle of a famous NHL hockey star.
Nobody took him seriously while dating; even the girls knew what they were up against. One dinner didn’t cost him much, but it usually ended with the girl back in his apartment, in his bedroom. It was easy, sometimes too easy it was boring, but convenient at that.
One night, however, at a bar, he decided to flirt with the girl sitting next to him. She seemed to be there alone and if a guy showed up, he had an entire team to back him, she was an easy target. He used a few solid lines, one’s that have never failed him before, and bought her another drink on him. Yet, it didn’t turn out the way it usually did.
“On me,” he smiled, bright blue eyes beaming as he pushed the drink in her direction.
The blonde turned around, glancing at the drink and then back to his baby blue eyes, with a smirk on her lips. He thought surely he had one, yet again, but he was wrong. She let out a mocking laugh and shook her head, pushing it back to his direction.
“No,” she said, “Thank you.”
He frowned, using a finger to push it back toward her again, “I insist,” he said sternly, “Do I look like I drink Jagger?”
The blonde turned again, frowning at Patrick, “I’ll have you know that Jagger is possibly the best alcohol out there and frankly it takes balls to drink it, so yea, I kind of figured you wouldn’t be a Jagger guy.”
If he wasn’t good at holding his emotions in, his jaw would have dropped. This girl was ripping him a new one, pretty much neutering him right here, in the middle of the bar. In his whole career, this had never really happened, not this intense. He stared at her, unsure of how to persuade her, but he knew that he wouldn’t quit until he won.
He reached for the drink; her eyes locked on his, and downed it. Cringing, he managed to swallow it. He flinched, wiping his mouth as the burn slid down his throat and into his stomach. He was surprised when she was shaking her head, not looking impressed at all.
“Trying to prove you have balls,” she continued, swirling her ice cubes in her drink, “Also concludes that you don’t.”
He rolled his eyes, pushing the empty glass to the end of the bar. Clearly, she was impossible. She had no idea who he was, which meant she wasn’t going to even come close to sleeping with him. For some reason, he wanted this one more, possibly because she wanted nothing to do with him. That was hot... and mysterious.
He sighed, “I’m just trying to make friends here, you know.”
She narrowed her eyes, finishing the rest of her drink, “Excuse me?”
Patrick nodded, going back to his beer, “I’m new to Chicago.”
She gave him a sympathetic smile and nodded, reaching over to place a comforting hand on his arm, “That’s really sweet. There are a lot of people here, maybe you’ll manage to sweet talk one of them, Patrick Kane, number 88 of the Chicago Blackhawks.”
He froze, cringing lightly. Ok, so she played him. She knew exactly who he was and now he looked like an even bigger chum. He couldn’t even find words to fix what he’d attempted and the fact that she was staring at him, eyebrow raised, ready for an excuse, was more intimidating than anything else.
“So you know my name,” he said, nodding, “But what’s yours?”
“Roberto Luongo, number 1, Vancouver Canucks,” she held out her palm in which curiously, he shook. As she stood, grabbing her purse, she gave him a solid, gorgeous smile, “Therefore, we’re not supposed to get along. We really dislike each other, when did you forget that?”
[I/]
That was the first time he’d met her, and honestly, he thought it’d be the last. However she showed up the next weekend at the same bar, this time with a brunette girl at her side. Patrick sunk into his seat as she walked in, watching her go to the same spot she sat in last week.
Finally, he apologized and when he did, she was much politer. He still didn’t get her name. He knew how he would though, he returned, every weekend to that bar and sat next to her until she agreed to go out to dinner with him.
He didn’t sleep with her on the first date, or the second, or third or fourth. He didn’t sleep with her for a while actually. They went out to dinner, hung out, kissed, but that was as far as it got. Her name was Ainsley; she was tall, blonde and possibly the nicest, yet toughest girl he’d ever met.
He didn’t think he’d change, not for her. He didn’t think he was in love. It wasn’t until one night, at a bar, when he found himself turning down a girl because he felt guilty, that he realized she had done it. She changed him, he loved her, and she was the only one he wanted to be with.
That night he told her he loved her. That night, he got what he wanted. Not just sex, but a woman that believed him and said, with all the truth in the world,
“I love you too, you little bastard.”
With those words and the kiss that followed, the smell of her perfume and the way she looked at him- he knew that for once in his life, he met someone that put him first, and he, in return put her first too.
She never asked him to change for her, which is why he did.
Nobody took him seriously while dating; even the girls knew what they were up against. One dinner didn’t cost him much, but it usually ended with the girl back in his apartment, in his bedroom. It was easy, sometimes too easy it was boring, but convenient at that.
One night, however, at a bar, he decided to flirt with the girl sitting next to him. She seemed to be there alone and if a guy showed up, he had an entire team to back him, she was an easy target. He used a few solid lines, one’s that have never failed him before, and bought her another drink on him. Yet, it didn’t turn out the way it usually did.
“On me,” he smiled, bright blue eyes beaming as he pushed the drink in her direction.
The blonde turned around, glancing at the drink and then back to his baby blue eyes, with a smirk on her lips. He thought surely he had one, yet again, but he was wrong. She let out a mocking laugh and shook her head, pushing it back to his direction.
“No,” she said, “Thank you.”
He frowned, using a finger to push it back toward her again, “I insist,” he said sternly, “Do I look like I drink Jagger?”
The blonde turned again, frowning at Patrick, “I’ll have you know that Jagger is possibly the best alcohol out there and frankly it takes balls to drink it, so yea, I kind of figured you wouldn’t be a Jagger guy.”
If he wasn’t good at holding his emotions in, his jaw would have dropped. This girl was ripping him a new one, pretty much neutering him right here, in the middle of the bar. In his whole career, this had never really happened, not this intense. He stared at her, unsure of how to persuade her, but he knew that he wouldn’t quit until he won.
He reached for the drink; her eyes locked on his, and downed it. Cringing, he managed to swallow it. He flinched, wiping his mouth as the burn slid down his throat and into his stomach. He was surprised when she was shaking her head, not looking impressed at all.
“Trying to prove you have balls,” she continued, swirling her ice cubes in her drink, “Also concludes that you don’t.”
He rolled his eyes, pushing the empty glass to the end of the bar. Clearly, she was impossible. She had no idea who he was, which meant she wasn’t going to even come close to sleeping with him. For some reason, he wanted this one more, possibly because she wanted nothing to do with him. That was hot... and mysterious.
He sighed, “I’m just trying to make friends here, you know.”
She narrowed her eyes, finishing the rest of her drink, “Excuse me?”
Patrick nodded, going back to his beer, “I’m new to Chicago.”
She gave him a sympathetic smile and nodded, reaching over to place a comforting hand on his arm, “That’s really sweet. There are a lot of people here, maybe you’ll manage to sweet talk one of them, Patrick Kane, number 88 of the Chicago Blackhawks.”
He froze, cringing lightly. Ok, so she played him. She knew exactly who he was and now he looked like an even bigger chum. He couldn’t even find words to fix what he’d attempted and the fact that she was staring at him, eyebrow raised, ready for an excuse, was more intimidating than anything else.
“So you know my name,” he said, nodding, “But what’s yours?”
“Roberto Luongo, number 1, Vancouver Canucks,” she held out her palm in which curiously, he shook. As she stood, grabbing her purse, she gave him a solid, gorgeous smile, “Therefore, we’re not supposed to get along. We really dislike each other, when did you forget that?”
[I/]
That was the first time he’d met her, and honestly, he thought it’d be the last. However she showed up the next weekend at the same bar, this time with a brunette girl at her side. Patrick sunk into his seat as she walked in, watching her go to the same spot she sat in last week.
Finally, he apologized and when he did, she was much politer. He still didn’t get her name. He knew how he would though, he returned, every weekend to that bar and sat next to her until she agreed to go out to dinner with him.
He didn’t sleep with her on the first date, or the second, or third or fourth. He didn’t sleep with her for a while actually. They went out to dinner, hung out, kissed, but that was as far as it got. Her name was Ainsley; she was tall, blonde and possibly the nicest, yet toughest girl he’d ever met.
He didn’t think he’d change, not for her. He didn’t think he was in love. It wasn’t until one night, at a bar, when he found himself turning down a girl because he felt guilty, that he realized she had done it. She changed him, he loved her, and she was the only one he wanted to be with.
That night he told her he loved her. That night, he got what he wanted. Not just sex, but a woman that believed him and said, with all the truth in the world,
“I love you too, you little bastard.”
With those words and the kiss that followed, the smell of her perfume and the way she looked at him- he knew that for once in his life, he met someone that put him first, and he, in return put her first too.
She never asked him to change for her, which is why he did.
♠ ♠ ♠
I don't know what I wrote this, I just hate a craving for a little pkane. Sorry it's short, but I wasn't originally going to even post it. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it- I love you all. COMMENTS WOULD BE ADORED! <3XOXO!