Bittersweet Memories

“Holy fucking hell, you weren’t kidding.”

I turn around to face my best friend, who’s currently sitting behind my laptop, staring at the assortment of pictures scattered on the screen. I resist the urge to say I told you so and instead shrug my shoulders.

“That is the textbook definition of sex hair,” she continues and I have to laugh.

“It is impressive, I know,” I respond from my place on the couch, biting into the apple I picked up from the kitchen.

“Impressive? Sweetheart, theoretical physicists are impressive. That…I would be willing to leave Nashville for that, no questions asked.”

“You would not. You love your Predators too much to ever to that.”

She scoffs and goes back to Googling the rest of the team. Being Julia’s best friend, I thought it was my duty to educate her on the amazingness also known as the Pittsburgh Penguins team. As a diehard fan of the Predators, Julia was more than a little skeptical, but I assume my case is won after her reaction to a certain defenseman.

“We need to go to one of their games while you’re here,” I tell her as she’s looking up pictures of Jordan Staal.

“Yes, yes we do,” she says, breathlessly almost and I start counting back in my head. Five…four…three…two…one. “Holy shit, I’m moving in with you.”

My eyes move to the screen that is now decorated by the picture of Sidney Crosby and I laugh once more. “You’re more than welcome to. Now come on, we have to get ready.”

She detaches herself from the computer slowly and moves towards the guest bedroom, where she’s staying for the duration of her visit. I head to my own room to get dressed. As a Pittsburgh native, I was exposed to hockey since I was a little girl. My father was a season ticket holder for as long as I can remember, and some of my earliest memories are from hockey games and the madness surrounding them.

After I grew up and moved away to college, some of the enthusiasm went away. I guess some of it had to do with the fact that I didn’t have my Dad to take me to games anymore. He’d passed away during my senior year in high-school. After that, hockey was just a memory, but ever since I came back home three years ago, I found that some of the love has returned. I’m making new memories now, taking my niece and nephew to watch the Pens play whenever they’re in town visiting. My brother-in-law thinks it’s the most amazing thing in the world, and I get to be the cool aunt to the youngsters. It doesn’t hurt that the majority of the players look good enough to eat, either.

“Can I come in?” I hear Julia asked from the doorway, and I emerge from the bathroom to find her standing there, ready.

“Yeah, I’m all done,” I tell her.

“Thank god we’re not matching,” she says looking at her outfit, then mine.

“It’s a concert, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.” I pull my favorite band shirt down so it falls right past the waistband of my black skinny jeans before I grab a pair of Ed Hardy sneakers and put them on. Julia’s wearing a denim mini-skirt and a black top with the band logo on the front and the words “It’s your fucking nightmare” on the back. Her feet are clad in a pair of knee high black boots. It’s clear who’s after the attention tonight.

“Hoping to get lucky tonight?” I ask, grabbing my purse as I make my way out of the room.

Julia laughs. “No, but it never hurts to look good. Plus, I could never pull those jeans off the way you do.

She takes her stuff and follows me out as I lock the door. “They look like they’ve been painted on.”

“It did take me ten minutes to get into them,” I admit, unlocking the car door and hopping in. Julia follows my lead, getting in on the passenger’s side and we head downtown for a night of fun.

We meet the rest of my friends right outside the venue and after the obligatory introductions are made, we head towards the VIP entrance. What can I say? We like to arrive with a bang. We make small talk while waiting in line, and I notice Roger and Julia talking quietly. She looks like she’s hanging onto his every word. That girl is hopeless.

About thirty minutes later they finally let us in. We’re ushered in first, so we’re standing next to the fence and I can’t help but think how amazing this night is going to be. The opening band is okay. The crowd cheers and applauds at all the right times, but when the headliners take the stage, the place goes insane. We’re right there with everyone else, screaming and clapping loudly, trying to get them to notice us.

Four songs in and my voice is gone. I push my hair back, waving a hand in front of my face to cool myself down a little and motion to Julia that I’m spent as the singer announces the next song. It also happens to be my favorite, and I almost curse my luck. I hang my head in my hands before I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around to Julia who is pointing at the stage, just as the lead guitarist picks up a water bottle and tosses it in my direction. I barely catch it before it makes contact with my head and he does a fist pump as he winks at me. My brain almost short-circuits and when I hear Roger laughing I know it’s cause my mouth is hanging open. Damn that man.

By the time the band finishes their last song I’m swooning, hyperventilating and dying all at the same time. I’m tired, have no voice, can’t hear a damn thing and I’m pretty sure my hair’s a mess from all the humidity and head-banging. But it’s all worth it. We’re one of the last ones to leave the venue, and I walk lazily towards my car, reliving the highlights of tonight over and over in my head.

“Earth to Gabby.” A hand makes its way into my field of vision and I blink, noticing that I’ve stopped walking completely. “Are you okay?”

I shake my head and meet Taylor’s eyes. “I’m fine. Exhausted, but really never better. I was just thinking. Sorry,” I explain and they all laugh at me.

“Damn, look at that car,” Roger says suddenly, pointing out something to our left.

I follow his gaze and feel my breath catch in my throat before I stop once more, completely frozen in my tracks. Roger goes on about the car, not realizing that it’s not the car I’m focused on but rather the person next to it. He’s leaning on the driver’s side, completely oblivious to his surroundings as he talks on the phone, his fingers keeping a steady staccato rhythm against his thigh. He looks…annoyed.

I will my feet to keep moving forward - it’s doing me no good to just stand there with my mouth open like an idiot. I hear a gasp behind me and I know someone else - probably Julia - has caught on.

“No freaking way,” she goes. “Is that…Letang?”

Her voice carries, causing his head to snap up. For the first time I notice he’s not alone. The figure next to him is mostly hidden in the shadows but when he moves, I recognize Flower immediately. Kris looks like a deer caught in the headlights as we start walking in their direction. We’re almost in front of them, having crossed the parking lot without saying a word, when Kris snaps out of it.

“Gabrielle.” His voice is a mere whisper, but I hear it loud as if he shouted my name from the rooftops. I wish I could muster enough energy to smile, but I’m too exhausted to even try.

Flower looks between the two of us, questions written all over his face as if he was asking how the two of us know each other. It’s Julia that actually voices what everyone’s thinking.

“Wait! You know him? she asks, sounding incredulous and accusatory at the same time.

Oh, boy. She has no idea. “Yes,” Kris answers before I can even open my mouth. He doesn’t elaborate as everyone else just stares at us. The whole situation is kind of absurd.

“Well, we were heading out,” Flower says finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Kris’ eyes never leave mine and I almost waiver under his gaze.

“Come with us,” he says suddenly.

“Where exactly?” I ask, finally finding my voice.

“We were gonna head out for drinks with some of the guys. You should join us.” His gaze sweeps across my friends who are all standing off to the side looking dumbstruck. “All of you should join us.”

I suddenly feel grateful for having them as back-up. I think how at least one of them will have an excuse for not going. A staff meeting early next morning, a family member getting sick all of a sudden - anything has to be better than actually accepting. Unfortunately, all of them are still too shocked to notice my discomfort and they all voice their acceptance with delight. I resist the urge to groan and roll my eyes. Kris and Flower finally introduce themselves properly and we agree to follow them in our cars to an Irish Pub a few blocks away from the arena.

I avoid the questions that are being thrown my way as soon as we reach the car, hoping everyone will eventually get bored and distracted. We reach the pub about ten minutes later and by time I’m inside I realize it’s too late to turn around and run. No matter how much I want to.

‘Some of the guys’ turns into half the Pens team and I want to scream and hide at the same time. We join everyone in the back room and I see Max’s eyes sweep over me in recognition. It makes me want to dig a deep hole and crawl into it.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he whispers when we’re all seated.

“I didn’t think I’d be here again,” I fire back and he smirks. I order something strong from the bartender, knowing I’ll need alcohol to make it through tonight. Kris throws his arm nonchalantly across the back of my chair and my first instinct is to lean back into it. I don’t. Instead I take a sip of my drink and rise from the table, excusing myself.

I stumble blindly through the patio doors and lean on the railing for support. What was I thinking coming here? The door behind me slides open then closed and I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.

“Why did you invite me here?” I ask before he can say anything.

“I…I don’t know.” He stands next to me, a beer in hand. The slight breeze blows some hair in his face and I resist the urge to run my fingers through it.

“Great!” I can’t hide the annoyance in my voice.

“You didn’t have to say yes. It’s not like I dragged you here.” He pauses, like he’s catching a moment to collect his thoughts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…You caught me off guard, Gabrielle. I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Yeah, not a lot of people run into their one-night stand at a rock concert.” I really don’t mean to sound bitter, but I can’t help it. It sure beats the alternative, in my case.

“Don’t,” he starts. “Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” I ask, turning so I can face him. “It’s not like you spent the night in my bed then snuck out of the house before the sun even came out. Oh, wait.”

His face pales and he runs his hand through his hair, an obvious sign he’s frustrated. “Gabby ―”

I take a deep breath to calm down. “It’s okay, Kris,” I say with a small smile. “I didn’t really expect anything else, you know. And it’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting into.”

“I panicked,” he states and my eyebrows shoot up. He panicked? “I don’t…I’m not Max. I don’t do that kind of thing. So when I woke up in a strange apartment with a strange girl in bed next to me, I panicked.”

The emphasis on ‘that kind of thing’ makes me sick. Does he think this is something I do on a regular basis? Pick up a guy at a bar and take him home? I almost want to yell at him, but my reason kicks in just in time. I open and close my mouth, words not forming. I can’t blame him if the thought that. It’s not like he knows better. He doesn’t even know me. It’s a miracle that he remembers my name to begin with. To him, I’m probably just some obsessed puckbunny. The thought is almost enough to make me sick.

He reads the expression on my face and steps in closer, his body filling my entire field of vision completely. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to sound so…judgmental. After all, it’s more my fault than yours.”

I laugh at the memory of him and Jordan sending shot after shot to our table before eventually buying the whole bottle of Patron and coming over themselves. I knew I wasn’t thinking straight when I invited him over, but I’m sure that someone somewhere once said Patron and really hot hockey players is a really bad idea. So that was my excuse.

“I just don’t really know how to do this now,” he goes on, interrupting my trip down the memory lane.

“There’s nothing to do. Can we just pretend that ―”

Whatever I was supposed to say next flies out of head when Kris pulls me into him and presses his lips against mine. The kiss is urgent and he doesn’t waste any time. I gasp in surprise and he uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth. His hands fist in my hair, tugging on it and I whimper into his mouth. The hold loosens a little. My palms are splayed across his chest and I run my hands over the expanse, admiring the muscles that flex underneath. He turns us around so that I’m pressed against the railing as his hand moves down my back and to my waist. I struggle to keep breathing when the same hand sneaks under my shirt.

The door behind us opens and we pull away from each other hurriedly, like two teenagers caught by the parents. My eyes meet Julia’s wide ones and she opens her mouth to say something but no sound comes out.

Kris laughs.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt,” she voices, a huge smile threatening to burst across her face. I know I’m paying hell for this when we get back to the apartment tonight. I’m also hoping I won’t be going there at all.

I shake my head at her as Kris takes my hand. “Let’s go inside. Everyone’s probably worried that I’m kidnapping you or something.”

“That is not what they’re worried about,” Julia says walking back inside. “I’ll kill Max for this.”

We’re still laughing by the time we reach the table and ten pairs of eyes suddenly focus on me and Kris. I regret letting him hold my hand for a second before I decide I really don’t care.

“You know, Tanger, they’re called one-night stands for a reason,” Max states quietly so only Kris and I can hear. Kris shots him a glare that could probably kill someone and Max puts his hands up in surrender. Kris’ hold on my hand loosens slightly and I know he’s trying too hard not to deck Max. It makes me laugh out loud and he looks at me questioningly.

My face grows serious once more. I stand on my tiptoes and he leans down so that we’re eyelevel. “Take me home,” I whisper in his ear.

The smile that breaks across his face could probably light up all of Consol. “I thought you’d never ask.”