Endlessly

I'd come to the conclusion that Jordan was officially trying to kill me.

A little after nine o'clock Monday morning, there had been a soft knock on the door of my makeshift, barn-loft apartment. I'd stumbled over half asleep and half dressed, wearing only a pair of boxers, whose owner I'd long forgotten, and a ratty camisole. When I pulled open the door, I found Jordan leaning against the door frame, sporting Reebok workout gear exclusively. His eyes went wide as the took in my attire, and when his pupils dilated a little I knew I was in trouble.

After loudly clearing his throat and trying to hide the blush on his cheeks, he invited me to go for a 'quick' run with him. I agreed, thinking we'd do a little five mile loop. Yeah, not so much.

When we reached what had to be mile number eight, I came to a complete stop, bending over my knees, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible.

"Rae?" Jordan's worried voice filtered through the blood pounding through my ears. I held up a shaky finger, needing a minute to compose myself. Once I could stand up, Jordan offered me his sweat stained back, and I gratefully clamored on, having no desire whatsoever to take another step.

That's how I wound up sprawled across a wicker chair on his back porch, glass of chocolate milk in hand, watching Jordan bounce Parker up and down on his knee, while Marc, Eric, Jared, and Tanya gathered around us to help make camping plans.

"Someone's going to need to head down into the 'States to pick up some fireworks," Marc stated absentmindedly, lounging against the railing.

"Aren't you guys a little old for that?" Tanya asked.

I laughed out loud at her absurd question. But I guess not everyone else found it funny, because I had three of the four Staal boys glaring at me. "What do you want me to say? You all act like fifteen year old boys. Pyros, horndogs, and alcoholics in the making. Get over it," I said in response to their evil eyes.

Marc actually stuck his tongue out at me, and Jared flashed me the finger. Jordan rumbled out a chuckle from his chair next to me. "Shut up, Jordan. What makes you think she's not referring to you," Jared growled.

"Oh, I know she is. But I also have some sense of humor. Unlike some other people in this room," he shot his brothers a pointed look.

"Anyways," I added, breaking up the looming argument with ease, "I think we should just rent or borrow a boat or something. Spend all day on the lake. Bonfires at night. Make a grocery list and we're good to go."

There a brief pause, before everyone, including Tanya, to my surprise, began shouting out items to buy, and Eric scrambled to write them all down. An hour later, we left a snoozing Parker with Mrs. Staal, and headed for the grocery store.

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Grocery shopping with four hungry men is an impossible feat in itself. Grocery shopping with four hungry NHL players was right up there with walking on water and raising the dead. I think Jesus might have even paused over this one.

Thankfully, I had grown up with them, so I'd been raised to handle it. Tanya had married into it, but appeared to have a handle on it nonetheless. Occasionally, one of us girls would slap at a hand trying to sneak in a contrabanded object, or nudge a muscled ass with a shopping cart to keep a distracted eye moving. At one point, Tanya had just shot Eric a well practices look, and the bag of Reese's had gone back on the shelf, with Eric slouching away like a kicked puppy.

We had split up at some point to cover more of the list faster, and Jordan, Marc, and myself went off in search of some elusive brand of bratwurst Marc had tried at some festival in Wisconsin a buddy had dragged him to on his way home. Jordan pushed the overloaded cart, while I kept pace alongside him, with Marc wandering a ways ahead. Just enough distance to give us some unprivate privacy.

"What tents are we bringing?" Jordan asked, and I wasn't sure if he was making small talk or actually gave half a rat's ass. It must've shown on my face, because he added, "I don't think my legs will fit into the ones from when we used to go with our dads."

I gave a small laugh, trying to picture this massive, manly version of Jordan squeezing into the Superman tent we shared as kids. "I think Eric got some new ones, but we're still bringing up three. You guys and your fat asses won't fit much more than two people in a tent."

As we walked, he leaned into me, nudging my shoulder playfully. I bumped him back, and we continued knocking into each other, giggling the whole way, until we reached Marc. He raised an eyebrow at our antics, but went back to what he was doing. Just as he started calculating how many brats we'd need on the trip, there was a shout from behind us. "Who's up for a cart race?" I could hear the squeal of the wheels of Eric's cart as he took off, giving himself a head start.

One glance from Jordan and I ducked underneath his arms, placing my feet on the bottom metal rack. Jordan took half a second to make sure I was on, before taking off after Eric. As we careened around a corner, I was thrown backwards against Jordan. I shut my eyes, bracing for impact, but only felt a slight pressure on my hips. I looked down, to see Jordan's right arm locked around me, while his other still managed to to steer as we whipped down an aisle. I saw Eric as he bolted around the corner, Jared hollering from his post on the opposite end of the cart.

I squeezed Jordan's arm, letting him know I was alright, and he let go slowly, almost reluctantly. He placed his hands a lot closer together, keeping me locked between his two arms. As the corner came up, I placed both my hands over his, trying my best to keep my balance. Just as we rounded the corner, Jordan hauled the cart back to halt, causing me to almost fly over the cart. But once again, his arm was there, holding me in place. "Why'd you st-"

My question died on my lips, as I took in the sight of Eric and Jared sprawled across the floor, amongst piles of our groceries, with Tanya standing over them, wearing her best angry face. I was sure she was going to start screaming at them, but I didn't get to find out. Jordan silently began backing us into the aisle, out of reach of Tanya's powerful glare. We stood in silence beside a shelf full of cereal, trying to suppress our snickers. I didn't even mind that Jordan left his arm around my waist, just leaned into his solid form and let his silent chuckles vibrate through me.

Jordan rested his chin on my shoulder, which was level with his thanks to my perch on the shopping cart. His breath was warm in my ear as he said, "Wanna get out of here?"

My heart jumped, skipping a beat, before I realized this was Jordan talking to me. It didn't mean anything seductive or have any hidden innuendos. Hoping he couldn't feel my hammering heart, I nodded, his cheek rubbing against mine. He lifted me off the cart, and we pushed it forward into view of Tanya and the boys. Marc had caught up on the excitement at some, and watched with a smirk on his face as Eric and Jared picked up their disaster on under Tanya's watchful eye.

"We're gonna get out of here," Jordan said simply. I felt my cheeks flush, hoping the boys wouldn't read into it to much.

"We will finish shopping," Tanya replied. She locked eyes with me first giving a small smile. She and Jordan had a strange, silent conversation that last a few awkward moments, until they broke eye contact.

"We'll see you back at the house," Jordan called over his shoulder as he lead me away, hand on the small of my back.

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Jordan's truck was quiet except for the sound of the radio playing softly in the background, some old country tune from the States. I would occasionally hum a line or two, before falling silent again. I didn't bother asking Jordan where he was taking us. First off, I trusted his judgment. Second, I had a pretty good idea. When we turned onto a old, familiar street, I knew my suspicions were correct. Jordan pulled into a parking lot in front of the very first hockey rink he had ever played in. The two of us had spent endless hours down in the back corner of the rink, where most of the dry-land training took place. I also remembered making out with him several times under the bleachers. My cheeks heated up at the memory.

I walked beside Jordan, allowing him some time for thought. While I had a lot of memories here, I knew Jordan had at least a hundred fold.

I was surprised to find the actual arena unlocked, and even more surprised to find a door to the ice open. Together, we stepped out and shuffled to center ice. Slowly, Jordan spun in a circle, a soft smile his face.

"I scored my first goal here. I was on the White Atom team. Only a half sheet of ice," he spoke wistfully, his eyes far, far away.

I smiled, wrapping a friendly arm around his torso in a half-embrace. He breathed in a breath of contentment, pulling me closer. "Remember when we..." he trailed off, and when I looked up he was biting his lower lip in embarrassment as he gazed at the bleachers.

"Yeah," I whispered, "I remember."

The two of us stood together, utterly frozen, letting the rink suck us backward in time. I rarely ever saw the ice, only during open skate, so center ice was a rare view. For Jordan, it must've been as familiar as the Pen's center ice at the CONSOL center. I imagined him imagining the crowd of families in the stands, maybe with me amongst them.

When I tilted my head to look at Jordan, I started slightly to find him already looking at me intensely. His eye smoldered, sending warm tingles from my hairline straight down to my toes. He repositioned himself, so that our bodies were flush against each other. The frigid rink air was no longer a problem. Between my hormones and Jordan's gaze, I was surprised the ice hadn't melted yet.

When his eyes shifted down briefly to glance at my lips, my heart beat in double time. He's going to kiss me. And I have no will power to stop him.

Automatically, my hands slid up his arms, resting on his biceps. My brain noted that they were at least twice the size they'd been the last time I'd seen him. My calves flexed, raising me up on my toes, bringing me closer to Jordan's face.

His eyes flashed with desire, as he realized my body was reacting to his presence. He leaned down, bringing our faces within inches of each other. My breath came out in shallow gasps, and my brain had almost completely shut down. It was playing an endless circuit of Jordan, Jordan, Jordan.

Just as I felt his breath against my lips, a cell phone shrilled loudly, causing both of us to jump apart and whirl towards the noise. Two boys stared at us with a mixture of horror and fascination. One held up a a phone as if he were going to take a picture, but he lowered it slowly.

Jordan grunted in irritation and stalked over to the boys, leaving me at center ice, heart hammering and breathless, unable to believe what I'd almost just let myself do. I had almost let Jordan kiss me. I brushed my fingers across my flaming face, hot with shame at my weakness. Correction, my brain chimed, You almost kissed Jordan.

I watched Jordan as he talked to the young boys, who gazed at him with awe. I suppose from the outside he look interested in what they were saying, but I knew from the slump of his shoulders and the curve of his back he was anything but happy. He signed a few things of theirs before shooing them away.

I quickly looked else where as he made his way back to me. What now?

He stood close enough to smell his cologne, but not quite close enough that I could feel his body heat. My own body desperately missed it, and begged my heart to move us forward, but my brain stubbornly refused. I sighed loudly, ringing my hands and trying to expel the nerves. This was a rare occasion, one where neither Jordan or I knew what to say to the other.

"I'm sorry if I over stepped a boundary," he said softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know you wanted to take it slow, but I was thinking about the bleachers and how we used to... you know... and then you looked like you..." his voice faded, waiting for me to fill in.

I just shook my head. "I can't do it Jordan." I bit the inside of my cheek as his face fell with my words. "Let's just go home, okay?"

He nodded grimly and lead the way back to the car.