No One Told You Life Was Gonna Be This Way

“What am I doing?” Lily asked herself over and over again. She's been sitting in her car that was parked outside of Marc-Andre Fleury's house. Lily rested her forehead against the steering wheel, her insides churning. Finally, she summoned enough courage to get out of the car and ring the doorbell again.

“Hello?” The door swung open to reveal none other than Marc-Andre Fleury.

I suddenly felt self-conscious in my long sleeve sweater and jeans, “I'm a friend of Sidney.”

He looked skeptical, “I'll get him for you.” He closed the door.

I fumbled with the hair elastic on my wrist. I wore my hair in it's natural straight, flat style. When I was Tiger Lily, I would pin my hair close to my scalp and wear a wig cap to keep the wig in place, but right now I was just Lily Copeland. Friend of Sidney Crosby.

The door swung open and Sidney was standing in the doorway, “Sorry about that. Marc's just paranoid. Come in.”

“Well he has every right to be,” I murmured as I entered the mansion. I followed Sid past the loud hockey players to the kitchen that was oddly quiet and away from the rambunctious celebrations. “They're like frat boys,” I joked as I leaned against the marble counter top. I didn't want to admit that I recognized some of the players. I would even call some of them regulars.

“They're worse than frat boys.”

“You're not. You're as sweet as apple pie.”

“Is that what you think?”

“That’s how the media portrays and you that’s how you carry yourself. So yes I do think that.”

“What would the media think of you?”

“They'd either laud me or defame me. They would either think that I'm this from rags to riches story. This adult-x-rated-version of the American dream. Stripping to pay off college debt, Iowa transplant finds love in Sidney Crosby,” I said, imitating the stately way Anderson Cooper seems to talk. “Or they would show me as this money hungry whore. Sid the Kid taken for a ride by stripper.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Strippers don't have a good standing in society. Who knows maybe the stripper stole the ring?” I joked.

“But she didn't steal the ring. They judged her because of what she does for a living,” Sidney said philosophically. “That isn't right. That would be like assuming I'm arrogant and stupid because I'm a pro athlete.”

“Exactly.”

“I'm glad you came. You're easy to talk to.”

“I'm glad I came. Listen Sidney-” Before I could finish, Sidney's mouth covered mine. I broke the kiss, my lips swollen and trembling. “Sidney,” I breathed, his name coming out in a husky exhale. I looked up into his eyes. They were this indescribable mixture of brown and green. I was convinced that there was nothing in nature that came quite close to those eyes. “I think you're drunk.”

He shook his head, “I'm not. Are you?”

I shook my head, “No.”

He leaned in for another kiss. His lips were ever so tempting that I leaned forward to meet his lips with mine in an intoxicating kiss.

My eyes fluttered shut as my mind was wiped clean of everything but the kiss. I ran my fingers through his hair, along his toned shoulders and arms before resting around his neck.

His hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him. Our bodies flush with each others. Our minds screaming for air, we separated. “I've been wanting to do that since I met you,” His breath tickling my cheek.