Endlessly

Holyfuckingshit.

My mind was pinwheeling out of control as Jordan covered my mouth with his. It didn't start out especially passionate or intense, but that didn't matter. Three years was a long time, and I'd worn the memory of Jordan's touch smooth, and only remembered it in the occasional dream. Those hadn't done him justice.

His arms supported him from where they braced against the ground behind me. He successfully blocked the rest of the world out with his body. My body went on autopilot, and apparently my autopilot was still honed in on Jordan, despite the years of separation. I curled my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, and he made a soft noise of appreciation. My hips lifted on their own, holding me flush against Jordan's body.

He maintained his push-up position over me, and gently bit my bottom lip, to which I embarrassingly moaned. My eyes flew open at the sound of my own pleasure, and my brain slowly caught up. I think Jordan felt me hesitate suddenly, because his eyes opened, though much slower than mine.

"I-I'm sorry." He might have said the words, but I could see in his eyes that he didn't mean them in the least. Not that I blamed him. "It wasn't supposed to go that far."

"Can you...?" My eyes dropped to his body hovering over mine.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." He pushed away, and moved enough to give me some breathing room.

I couldn't say anything. I just stared straight up at the night sky, broken up by a few overhanging branches. What do you say to a man that broke your heart, and is now trying to piece it back together?

"Are you okay?" His voice was soft with genuine concern. "Did I hurt you?" His face moved into my line of vision, just a black shadow against the sky.

I just shake my head. "No. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I'm starting to get the feeling that I did."

"Just give me a moment. I need to... think."

"Don't." The command in his voice startled me, and my brow furrowed, anticipating an argument. "I mean, shit. Sorry. That wasn't supposed to be so harsh. Just don't think about it. I'll pretend it never happened."

"But I don't think I can. Forget, I mean."

Silence. It stretched on, as Jordan contemplated what I'd said. I wasn't even all that sure what I'd meant, and I figured he was trying to sort through it as well.

"What are you saying?" He was trying so hard to keep his voice neutral. It was a valiant effort, really. But I picked up on his words turning up hopefully at the end.

"I'm not sure. I need time."

Pause again. "Minutes, hours, days? A week?"

"I don't know, Jordan."

More silence. "Do you want to sleep with Jared instead of Marc?"

He would. Make this battle I was waging with myself unfair by suddenly becoming chivalrous.

I looked over at him sheepishly through my eyelashes. "With Jared, if you don't mind."

"Be my guest. Don't even bother switching out the sleeping bags." He waved his arm like Vana White, but didn't make a move towards the tent.

I got up, and paused to see if he'd follow. When he didn't, I internally winced. I felt kind of bad. I was giving the poor guy whiplash. One moment, I was making out with him like a horny teenager, and the next I rejected his pleasantries.

I slouched back to Jared's tent, and snuggled into Jordan's sleeping bag as quietly as possibly. It was still warm with his body heat, and smelled like his cologne. I know what dreams I'll be having tonight. Let's just hope Jared is a heavy sleeper.

---

We left the little camp site at the crack of dawn. The horizon was just starting to grow pink as I climbed into the back seat of Jordan's truck. Jared agreed to be copilot this time without argument, and I was hoping I hadn't moaned at all in my sleep during the night. Because let's just say my dreams weren't exactly G-rated.

I texted my brother the moment we got underway.

Me: Tell mom I'll be coming home for a few days.

With no immediate reply, I'd just shut my eyes when my phone buzzed in my lap.

Mitch: Do I need to arrest anybody?

My brother had recently become a cop, much to my mother's dislike. Sometimes, he took his job a little too seriously.

Me: NO. I don't think you have much authority over the border anyways. I just need some air.

Mitch: Been making out with Jordan too much? Mom told me she thinks you guys are back together.

Like he could read the text from up there, Jordan met my eyes in the rear view mirror and tilted his head, as if asking, Well, are we?

I quickly shut down my brother's teasing.

Me: No, we're not. Just tell mom to expect me by Wednesday night.

---

Jordan unloaded my stuff out of the back of the truck and held it out to me. I had no choice but to wrap my hands around the handle right against his. Ass.

"You're welcome for dinner anytime. My mom's invitation. But I'd like it if you came too." He stepped in closer. "Bye, Rae." His swooped his head down before I head a chance to react and brushed a kiss on my cheek, just barely to the side of my mouth. Dirty-playing bastard.

He slipped back into the truck without a single glance back.

I turned towards the house, and felt my blood boil slightly when I saw David watching me through a window. Now Jordan's just being possessive of something he doesn't own.

Well, he'll figure out real soon that things you don't control tend to run when you chase them. He'd done it once. And now it was my turn.

---

The Staal residence was relatively quiet as I walked up their driveway, the only evidence of life being a car parked off to the side. But it wasn't any of the Staal brothers' cars, and unless Henry had decided to buy a new one(yeah, right), they had visitors. No exactly ideal for the dramatic speech I planned on giving Jordan before I stormed off into the sunset like a woman scorned. Which I was, technically.

As I let myself in the front door, without knocking of course, laughter boomed loudly down the hallway from the kitchen. I approached, and when I took in the sight of three new hulking bodies, other than Staal boys themselves, it instantly clicked who was visiting. None other than Pittsburgh's best.

Sidney Crosby was leaning lazily against a counter, easy smile on his face, looking healthy and relaxed, as well as every bit the hockey god that he was. He'd gotten a hair cut since the last time I'd seen him on TV, and he looked older, like he'd been to hell and back and had the scars to prove it. Well, at least until he giggled like a five year-old at the banter from the kitchen table.

Marc-Andre Fleury was grinning wickedly at a blushing Jordan, who was scowling in an attempt to hide it or blow it off as annoyance. Marc-Andre looked as goofy as he did on TV, and the one time I'd met him in person that first summer. Kris Letang, who I'd never had the pleasure of meeting except for in my dreams, sat a little more anonymously at the head of the table, bathed in a pool of sunlight from the sliding glass door. A small smile graced his lips, and my thoughts ran wild for a second as I couldn't help but wonder if his hair was as soft as they all said it was.

"Rae?" My head literally jerked from my inner monologue, and I looked over at Jordan. He'd stood up, and the room crackled a little bit as they all registered a female presence. I knew Jordan had stood for that very reason, warning the back the wolves. I'd known and heard enough hockey players to guess what they were all thinking. They were hungry, and I was lunch.

"Hi." I tried my hand at confidence, but guessed I failed miserably because Jordan moved in my direction.

"Is everything okay?" He kept right on moving, right into my personal space, his giant hand taking up the expanse of my lower back.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I was just coming to talk to you about something. But I see you're... busy."

"Oh, yeah. I promised to introduce you." He turned, spinning my body with his in a way that screamed 'taken'. "Guys, this is Rae. Rae, this is the guys. Or some of them. Geno wasn't up for the trip."

"Rae? As in theRae?" Sidney ogled at me.

"If you didn't have a concussion, mon ami, I would bat you over the head until you did. Of course she is, vous tromper. She is just as beautiful as I remember." Marc-Andre stepped forward and bowed deeply, and I couldn't help but blush like a thirteen year old girl.

"Watch yourself, Flower," Jordan growled in a minor threat, clearly not too worried about his teammate's advances.

"We meet again, Marc-Andre. It's been awhile." I smiled softly, wishing I could speak French.

"Yes, much too long. And Jordan here has gone much too long without someone to come home too. Soon he will be too old. Or lose all his teeth. Whichever comes first."

I allowed Marc-Andre to lift my hand and kiss the back gently, but found that I wasn't all that affected. I was more affected by Jordan's muscled mass standing in such a close proximity, radiating displeasure.

Neither Kris nor Sidney made any move forward, like they didn't need introductions. Which was probably for the better, considering Jordan's current emotional state, and I wasn't sure if my self-control would extend to two of the most attractive men I'd ever seen.

"Jordan was just going to take us out for an early dinner," Marc-Andre commented, and shot a pointed look.

"Do you, um, want to come with us?" Jordan asked me.

I narrowed my eyes briefly at Marc-Andre before shaking my head at Jordan. "No, I can't I was just heading out." I paused, wondering how much I should tell him. "Of the country. I'm going to my parents place for a few days. I need to sort some things out."

Sidney coughed loudly, followed by an obnoxiously loud throat clearing. "Can I talk to you in private, for a moment?" Jordan said in a hushed voice, even though it was obvious his teammates could still hear us.

"I'd love to, but I want to be in the States by this evening, and it can take awhile to get across the border."

Jordan shot an exasperated look at his friends before taking me by the elbow. "I'll walk you out." His voice was harshly neutral as he led me out of the house. I shouted goodbyes and pleasantries back at Kris, Marc-Andre, and Sidney. The screen door on the front of the house slapped shut angrily as Jordan hauled me out onto the front porch. "What the hell? Why are you leaving? Is it because I kissed you? I'm really sorry about it and..." He shut his mouth suddenly, and cocked his head to the side, listening. "Get the fuck away from the door, guys!" he bellowed. Footsteps scurried away from the door under a halo of nervous laughter. "Jesus Christ." He turned the full effect of his earnest blue eyes on me. "Please don't leave."

"Jordan. I have to. But I'll be back. Like I said, I just have to sort through some things. I need to go." I stared back at him for a moment before I rose up on my toes, and hesitated only a second before I pressed my lips to his, and gave him time to respond on his own. When his only response was placing a hand softly against my hip bone, I knew he understood, and pulled away. "I'll see you soon. I promise."