Crush

If she knew all it took to get him into the relationship was a near-death experience, she would’ve done it sooner.
…
The power had gone out, the hot water tank was on the fritz again, and his car had stalled in the driveway; which roughly translated to a really bad morning for Alex Burrows.

The young forward for the Vancouver Canucks arrived to morning practice by the skin of his fingers, and combined with his already shitty morning, he was on the warpath.

“Burr, man, seriously. Take your boyfriend’s dick out of your ass and stop acting like a pussy.”

From his spot on the other side of the net, Alex glared over at Shane O’Brien, who seemed to have a sixth sense about when the people around him were having a bad day. Shane seemed unperturbed by the daggers Alex was throwing at him, and shrugged. “You are. Stop sulking. I don’t think Paige is attracted to your feminine side.”

The mention of the petite brunette only increased Alex’s glare, tenfold. She hadn’t made her appearance before that morning’s practice, for which Alex was grateful. The woman had a way of just existing when he wished she would get the hint and leave him alone.

Since she had followed him into the area two years ago, introducing herself as Paige Bailey, he hadn’t been able to shake her. In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have politely said, “Paige, right?” during their second meeting, but how was he to know she’d end up stalking him? But every practice and home game since then, she’d shown up in her Canucks knee socks and Burrows home jersey. There had to be some sort of conspiracy between her and the Canucks’ staff against him, since people not directly affiliated with the team had to have special clearance to be in the dressing room. But there she was, like clockwork, in the dressing room. It had even gotten to the point where Alex had worked himself into a routine where he’d be just finished getting dressed when she’d burst into the dressing room and taking a running jump at him.

They’d broken the touch barrier in their relationship last year when she’d tripped over a curb in an attempt to follow him into the arena, and he’d – out of pure reflex – grabbed her elbow to keep her from face planting. Since then, she’d hug him every chance she got. Part of it was his fault, though, because he’d just sigh and take it, and sometimes even pat her head awkwardly. Each time he’d wonder what he’d gotten himself into.

Shane jokingly bumped his shoulder against Alex’s, which caused Alex to snap back to attention. The team was lined up in a painful anticipation for the suicides coach had barked at them to do as punishment for their last disgraceful loss, and Alex knew he better just suck it up and get down to it.

His legs had never burned so much.

The hot shower he’d taken after practice massaged his body, but he’d known the second he stepped out he’d hurt again. Sure enough, once his skin was starting to become numb from the heat and pruned from the water, he turned the water off.

With a towel secured around his lean and toned body, he padded his way quietly through the loud room. When he got back to his stall, Ryan Kesler made a beeline for him. “Hey man, don’t listen to O’Brien. He’s PMSing because his girlfriend has suddenly decided to become a nun.”

Jessica Plowkowicz was too much of a slut to become a nun, so Ryan’s poorly disguised joke had no impact on Alex. When he got no response, Ryan sighed in defeat and walked off. Part of Alex felt bad, bad not bad enough as he pulled his jeans up over his hips. His legs felt stiff again, and it only served as a reminder that he had a shitty last game. He’d missed so many damn pucks…

As he was pulling his t-shirt over his head, his phone began to buzz loudly and jump around on the bench in front of him. He hadn’t even thought to check the number as he pressed the Blackberry up to his ear. “Hello?” he barked out.

“Please don’t be angry, Alex.”

The timid, wavering voice on the other end of the phone caused him to pull his phone back and look at the screen.

Unknown caller.

He pressed the phone back to his ear and listened to the female voice. “I’m s-sorry.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at his locker, but his anger started to slowly ebb away from his insides. Wherever the caller was, it was loud. Static suddenly met his ear, and her voice was cut off. When the static stopped, he heard a sniff, and then the wobbling voice of the mysterious female. “Alex?”

The way the voice squeaked out his name suddenly made his heart drop. The sweetly endearing voice had become so familiar to him over the past couple of years that sometimes he would hear it in his dreams.

“Paige?” he suddenly asked frantically, completely forgetting to ask where she’d gotten his number. She sounded like she was in trouble – and that knowledge ate away at his insides with such a sudden ferocity that it scared him.

“Alex,” she repeated, the tears evident in her voice. Static enveloped his thoughts sporadically. He was able, though, to make out a broken sob and the word accident before the line went dead.

Without a second thought, he redialed the last number and put the phone to his ear. The phone rang once before she picked up. “Alex,” she sobbed.

“Paige,” he stated.

“I can’t feel my feet.”

His heart plummeted even further down his chest cavity, and he spun around on his heel at the same time he grabbed his jacket. He ignored the curious glances from Ryan as he practically ran from the locker room. The burning in his legs was forgotten as he sprinted out to his car. The rain still pounded down on every available surface, creating a white sheet over the horizon, but Alex didn’t care.

Paige may have a flare for the dramatic, but when it came down to it, she was a sweet girl that should never have to experience the pain he heard in her voice over the phone.

“Where are you?” he asked as he unlocked his doors.

The keys nearly dropped from his hand as he heard the name of the street he had taken to get to the rink that morning. Traffic had been especially slow due to a brutal two-car collision. There had been three cop cars and two ambulances at the scene. A black Audi had had the front of its car pulled off by a big white Ford pick up truck, and had then proceeded to smash into a tree on the opposite side of the street. He hadn’t seen any people from the accident, but he also hadn’t been looking for them.

“I’ll be right there,” he said quickly, as he hung up his phone and jumped in the car.

She better be okay.
…
The scene of the accident looked exactly the same as it had looked two hours ago when he’d been driving passed it to get to the arena. Pulling off to the side of the road, he almost forgot to take his keys out of the ignition as he hurried to get out of the car.

“Paige?” he called out into the rain. Thick trails of blood pooled down the road, carried by the rain into the nearest storm drain. His pulse spiked dangerously under his skin. “Paige!” He called again as he quickly passed two cop cars and one of the ambulances.

“Alex?” Her voice was quiet, but through the rain his ears had been straining for her. He whipped around on his heels, his shoes sloshing in the rain, and took her in.

She was soaked from head to toe. Her normally soft brown hair was stringy and dark while it clung to her, and her eyes listless and instead of looking like chocolate, looked like dirty mud. There was a cut on her left temple, still unattended, a cut slicing through the left side of her lip, and the markings of a seatbelt diagonally across her neck. The only thing attended to on her body seemed to be a shoulder, since her right arm had been placed in a sling.

She stayed where she was, for once not throwing herself at him, and bit her lip. Tears welled up in her wide eyes, and her lower lip trembled. “You came,” she whispered, tears mixing on her cheeks with the rain that obscured everything for him except her.

He was over to her in an instant, careful not to hurt her, as he cradled her jaw in his hands and gently put his forehead against hers. “Paige,” he sighed, a sudden pressure lifting from his chest.

“You came,” she repeated quietly, and stepped closer to him. He exhaled softly, and closed his eyes.

He didn’t like her, he had to remind himself; he came because he was a good guy. She followed him around like a lovesick puppy for a constant two years, insisting that what she felt for him was more than a crush. On more than one occasion she’d showed up at his place with breakfast, and he’d have to waste time driving her back to her apartment when he should’ve been sleeping. She also didn’t take no for an answer, and she was eternally happy.

“You don’t have a car,” Alex mumbled.

“I didn’t want to wait for the bus in the rain,” she returned, “so I borrowed my parents’.”

It suddenly confused him why she would call him instead of her parents. He didn’t have to ask her, though, because like always she seemed to read his mind. “You make me feel safe, Alex.”

Her omission startled him; how could she say that? He pulled back from her and searched her face. He had left her at the arena once because he didn’t have the patience to deal with her one time. He had also told her to leave him alone. How could she possibly feel safe around him when he never attempted to protect her?

She had to tilt her head back to look at him effectively, so her tears made a trail down her hairline. With the pad of his right thumb, he interrupted her trail of tears and pushed them away. She was tugging at his heart with her honesty, and he didn’t deserve that. “Don’t say that,” he mumbled.

He watched as she swallowed. “I mean it,” she told him.

He shook his head, droplets of water spraying around. Before he could talk her out of it, though, she stood up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. A frightening shock passed through his system as she pulled away. “You came,” she repeated quietly, almost as if she was reminding him. Like he needed a reminder, though.

He dropped her chin and stepped back. “No,” he insisted. It wasn’t happening – it couldn’t happen. She was stalking him for Pete’s Sake. He shouldn’t still be feeling her on his lips.

She looked broken, frozen in the same spot as he left her.
…
It had finally stopped raining. It had only taken two days for the rain to let up, but once it did, it was cold. A low fog settled over the horizon as he drove down the street. He had purposely avoided the street where Paige had gotten in the accident, because he knew it would trigger an emotional reaction for him. She had kissed him, and he had felt it. He had felt it when his stalker kissed him. There was something seriously wrong with him.

“I heard that Paige got in a car accident on Thursday,” Ryan breathed heavily from his spot on the bike beside Alex’s.

Because he didn’t trust his voice, he nodded.

“And he kissed her,” Shane piped up from his other side, slapping a hand to his back.

Alex lowered his gaze to the handlebars of the bike, in a vain attempt to ignore the conversation.

“Alex –” Ryan’s voice sounded exactly like Alex felt – like the entire thing was a mistake. “How could you kiss her, man?”

“She kissed me,” Alex finally breathed out in a huff. He was working extra hard on the bike to take his mind off of everything.

“And Alex didn’t stop her because he secretly wants to bang her,” Shane added – unhelpfully.

“I do not,” Alex retorted, his accent making his words thick and nearly indistinguishable.

“Hell, if she weren’t so crazy, I’d bang her.”

Alex stopped pedaling. “She isn’t crazy,” he snarled.

Shane looked taken back as he too stopped pedaling. Using a towel to wipe his face, he held his hands up in surrender. “Hey man, I can’t keep up with your crazy mood swings. Last time I checked you weren’t in love with her.”

He wasn’t in love with her.

“Shut up, O’Brien. He isn’t in love with her,” Ryan defended. “Right, Burr?”

Alex nodded, and went back to pedaling. It was silent, save for the heavy breathing from the players. “I mean, you did go to her,” Shane started again.

Alex groaned. He wasn’t in love with her. “So what?” he asked defensively, “she was crying. I felt bad for her. She’s like five feet and a hundred pounds.”

“That has nothing to do with anything,” Shane shot back. “Stop ignoring your pussy-whipped feelings for her.”

Alex grit his teeth and gripped the handlebars a little bit tighter. Maybe if he ignored Shane, he’d stop. “I’m surprised you’re as calm as you are, right now, Burr. I mean this is the second practice she hasn’t shown up to.”

Alex stopped pedaling and his gaze became unfocused on the digital numbers on the bike in front of him. The immediate idea of Paige being hurt made his brain forget how to tell his body how to function. Paige never missed practices. Was she okay? Did she have complications after the accident? He inhaled a startling amount of oxygen to try and calm himself down. It didn’t work, so he got off the bike. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do.

Shane and Ryan shared a look as Alex took off towards the locker room so he could change. Without missing a beat, Ryan handed Shane a ten-dollar bill from his pocket and shook his head. Shane O’Brien was unbelievable sometimes.
…
The elevator had been moving too slow, so he ran up the three flights of stairs. He knew the apartment like the back of his hand, thanks to all the impromptu trips he’d had to take there in the past.

Apartment 305 came into view quicker than he had anticipated, but it didn’t scare him. He had to know for sure. He had to make sure that the woman who had weaseled into his brain in a most unorthodox fashion was okay.

He made a fist and knocked, the sound sounding hollow to his own ears. There were no sounds of life on the other side of the door, and that’s what scared him. He knocked once more, and after waiting briefly, just before he turned to the right to leave again, the door squeaked open.

“Alex.”

Her voice sounded normal again; there was no pain, no tears in her voice. He turned to her and drank her in. Her hair was soft and straight, just the way he’d remembered it.

Her chocolate brown eyes were questioning as she looked at him, and her persona seemed oddly controlled, unlike Paige in every way. She didn’t move to hug him, and it made Alex feel oddly barren. The cut on her forehead had stitches now, and the cut on her lip looked more like a mere paper cut. The bruise from her seatbelt was more pronounced now, and it was like a slap in the face to Alex. His wince was noticeable, and he had to move his gaze to the sling around her right arm. But then it was like the pieces started to fit together again, because Paige started talking. “They put me on morphine, and I’m not allowed to leave my apartment, according to my neighbour. Apparently I walk loud, because I tried getting to your practice, and –”

Alex closed the distance between them in less than a second. He cupped her face softly in his hands and when he was less than a hair’s width away from her, he spoke. “I came,” he confirmed softly, and then gently pressed his lips to hers.