Illusions

Loren laughed when she walked into the living room the following morning. Jordan was fast asleep on the couch, snoring loudly with the right half of his body hanging over the edge. A sheet clung to him hopelessly; Loren was just happy he’d decided to put his clothes back on. She wondered if he’d slept there on purpose or if Rhea had forced him to. It seemed odd to her that Jordan Staal would willingly wake up in his one night stand’s apartment the morning after, but she was well aware of the effect Rhea had on men. It was something she seriously lacked.

Sidney had a doctor’s appointment at one-thirty. Loren didn’t have to go – attending his appointments wasn’t in her job description, yet she always found herself sitting in the waiting room – but it’d become habit. The captain had never complained about her presence so she figured it was all right by him that she tagged along. The front office had first suggested that she go with him; they said it’d be easier for her to handle the media when she knew the exact status of his injury and wasn’t relying on secondhand information. It made sense, she just wished there was a way she could be there without having to deal with him.

The clock that hung above the stove told her it was just after nine. She was sure no one else would be awake before noon and she relished in the thought of getting a few hours to herself. Having to deal with the awkwardness of Jordan and Rhea together post-intercourse made her nauseous. It wouldn’t be new territory for her, though. She’d been put in charge of making sure Rhea’s nightly conquests were gone by the time she woke up and, like her actual job, she took it very seriously. It was one less cup of coffee she had to make…one less awkward conversation she’d have to partake in.

“Are you always awake this early?”

Jordan stood behind her, easily towering over her 5’8” frame, clad only in a pair of black boxers. Loren blushed. No matter how much time she spent around Sidney’s teammates she was never fully at ease. They intimidated her. They ate women like her for breakfast – literally and figuratively speaking.

“Yep,” Loren replied, digging a large skillet out of the cabinet under the stove. “Pancakes?”

Jordan groaned. “You’re the best.”

Loren smiled and went about the kitchen, grabbing ingredients as she went. Cooking was something that came naturally to her and, since Rhea was abysmal at it, she was responsible for all the meals that passed through the kitchen.

“Chocolate chip or banana?”

Jordan groaned again – this time louder than the first. “I’m in love with you.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Both.”

She shrugged, figuring it was as good an answer as any. Jordan took a seat at the island and watched her, surprised at how comfortable she seemed around him. If there was anything Jordan knew as well as hockey, it was women, and Loren was no exception. He had her pinned from the first second he met her: she was unable to intimidate him and therefore felt uncomfortable in his presence. That was fine by him. Back then he couldn’t have cared less about getting to know her. After all, she worked for Sid, not him.

“So,” Loren started, abandoning the pancakes to start a pot of coffee. “You and Rhea, huh?”

He put his head in his hands and laughed quietly. “I honestly had no idea she was your roommate.”

“How could you have? I don’t even think Crosby knows I have one.”

“Crosby? You guys aren’t on a first name basis by now?”

Loren snorted. “A first name basis? Yes. Do I actually like him enough to call him Sidney? No.”

Sensing he was headed down a dangerous path, Jordan simply shrugged. There was no need for him to join in that conversation. Sidney was his teammate, one of his closest friends, and whatever kind of relationship he shared with his publicist was none of his business. However, he understood where she was coming from. The captain had a reputation that often preceded him, and coming into the job at such a tumultuous time must’ve been hard. Hell, his concussion was just as hard on the team and they didn’t have to deal with him on a day-to-day basis. Having to accompany him to appointments, prep him for interviews, dedicate your life to nothing but Sidney Crosby…it must’ve been exhausting. All Jordan had to do was play hockey and try not to get hurt.

“Coffee?” she asked, holding up the pot for emphasis. When Jordan nodded, she fetched a clean mug from the dish washer and filled it. “How’s the team feeling about the season?”

Jordan thanked her when she handed him the steaming mug. “So far so good. It’s going to be weird without Talbo.”

Loren had the pleasure of meeting Max Talbot during her second week with the Penguins. He, of course, couldn’t let her settle into her new job without knowing he wouldn’t tell anyone if she just so happened to “fall and trip on his dick.” She ignored him the rest of the season, almost feeling relieved when he decided to sign with Philadelphia. He was another one whose reputation preceded him. At least Sidney had some redeeming qualities.

“No wingman?”

“I bribe Nealer now,” he laughed. “How do you think I managed to nail your roommate?”

“I don’t think about it,” she blushed.

“Oh come on,” Jordan urged. “You can’t honestly tell me you’ve never had a one night stand?”

Loren turned twenty shades of crimson. She had never been the type to detach emotions from sex. The way Rhea could be intimate with a guy then completely ignore his existence the next morning absolutely flabbergasted (and appalled) her. The only thing the two women had in common was their non-virginal status. The difference in how many partners they had, however, was almost embarrassing.

“What kind of woman do you take me for, Mr. Staal?”

“You saw me balls-deep in your best friend, Loren. I don’t think you have to call me Mr. Staal.”

Loren plated breakfast for the two of them before joining him at the island. “I’m trying to be professional about it.”

“That’s your problem,” Jordan replied. His words were muffled by the mouthful of pancakes he had. “You’re too professional.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“It is not.”

“Loren,” Jordan laughed, “when’s the last time you went out not with the team?”

“Rhea and I went to dinner the other night–”

“You went to dinner. You didn’t go to a club or get drunk.”

“I don’t like clubs very much.”

“Fair enough,” Jordan shrugged. “When’s the last time you told Sid to go fuck himself and do shit on his own?”

“I can’t say that!”

“You’re his publicist, not his manager.”

“Mr. Lemieux suggested I go with him to doctor’s appointments–”

“But you don’t only go to his appointments. You also go out with us, go to his press conferences, drive him all over Pittsburgh–”

“That’s my job, Jordan.”

Jordan shrugged, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. He devoured his two pancakes before Loren had gotten halfway through her first. As he got up to grab himself two more, he looked back at her. “When’s the last time you had a boyfriend?”

Loren choked, quickly grabbing her coffee to wash down the bits of food stuck in her throat. “Excuse me?”

“When’s the last time you had a boyfriend?” he repeated.

“What does that matter?”

“Do you even know how long its been?”

“Yes,” she glared. “I just don’t see why it’s important.”

“When was it then?”

“Jordan–”

“See? You don’t have time for anything but Crosby.”

Loren laughed incredulously. “I’m sorry I take my job seriously.”

“There’s a difference between taking your job seriously and dedicating your entire life to it. Admit it: you’d be absolutely lost without the Kid.”

“I’d be absolutely unemployed and broke.”

“You’d be miserable.”

“Hardly.”

Jordan smirked. “I think you have a crush on him.”

Loren choked again. “What?”

“You blush whenever I bring him up.”

“Did you ever think it could possibly be because I’m having this conversation with his teammate who I caught having sex with my best friend right where you’re standing?”

Jordan knit his eyebrows together, trying to remember the night before. He might have had one too many drinks. He remembered having sex with her – absolutely mind-blowing, entirely satisfying sex – but he’d completely forgotten it took place in her kitchen.

“Well, fuck.”

Loren smirked and finished the last bites of her food. As she got up to put her plate in the dish washer, Jordan placed a hand on her shoulder, spinning her around to face him.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. That honestly wasn’t my intention.”

Loren smiled warmly. “You Canadians are something else.”

“Even Max Talbot has manners.”

“I’m sure the extent of Mr. Talbot’s manners fell off the map after he asked if he could please screw some girl ten ways to Sunday and if she could please not tell anyone about it.”

Jordan shook his head, amused at her nearly perfect portrayal of his former teammate. “I’m sure that Mr. So-and-So thing is hot in the bedroom, but you’re allowed to call us by our first names, you know. That’s why we have them.”

“I reserve first names for friends and family.”

“And we’re not friends?”

“I don’t know the first thing about you, Jordan Staal.”

Jordan smirked and threw a heavy arm over her shoulder. “We can get to know each other over a drive to the rink.”

Loren glanced at the clock. “Crosby has a doctor’s appointment at one-thirty. I can drop you off on my way to the hospital.”

He shrugged, figuring it was better than no ride at all. He’d gone to the club the night before with Tanger; Loren and Rhea’s apartment was only a few blocks away so they’d walked after leaving Diesel. The thought of Sidney seeing him in the front seat of Loren’s SUV also made him giddy. His captain would surely have a heart attack, immediately fearing the worst, and Jordan wanted to be there to witness every painful expression he was sure to adorn.

“Do you want to take a shower before we leave?” Loren asked.

“Don’t you have to get ready? I can always shower there.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me. If you smell like shit I’d prefer if you showered before we left so you don’t stick up my car.”

Jordan rolled his eyes, feigning hurt. “And Sid’s disgusting hockey bag doesn’t make it smell bad enough?”

“I make him spray it with Febreeze before he loads it in.”

The pair shared a look before bursting into laughter. It was such a girly, Loren thing to do. Jordan barely knew her but that nearly told him everything he needed to know. She was a woman in a man’s world, trying her best to fit in when she couldn’t have felt more distant. Accompany that with the grief Sidney was constantly giving her and it was no wonder she hated her job.

“I feel like you’ll beat me to death with my stick if I don’t shower so I might as well.”

&&

Two hours later they were en route to Sidney’s house, laughing and joking like they were old friends. Jordan was almost painfully easy to get along with. Conversation with him came natural; there were never any awkward silences and she never had to worry about saying the wrong thing. If she said something stupid, Jordan would pair it with a joke. If she said something embarrassing, he pretended not to hear it. Truth be told, Jordan was enjoying himself. He’d admitted his wrongs in judging her before he’d even had so much as a conversation with her and was working on repairing his wounded pride.

Loren Hamilton was the only woman Jordan Staal had ever been wrong about.

Well, that was true to an extent. She wore her emotions on her sleeve, never bothering to bite her tongue except in a professional setting. She relied on intimidation to make her way to the top yet was easily intimidated by people more successful than her. She was completely oblivious to her appearance; Loren merely thought she was attractive. Jordan, as well as the rest of Sidney’s teammates, knew right away that if the two got along any better than they currently did, there would be something there. Sidney may have been the savior of the NHL but he was not immune to the charms of a pretty woman.

Where he went wrong was in judging her personality. He thought she was uppity, feeling like she was better than him and his teammates because she didn’t have the knack to get in trouble like they did. She didn’t have to sneak her way out of a one night stand’s apartment or do the walk of shame into the locker room every morning. He thought she judged him for those things, that she heard stories from Crosby and turned her nose up at him. But she didn’t.

She finally pulled into Sidney’s driveway, not having thought about what he was going to say when he saw Jordan in the front seat. She definitely hadn’t thought about what he was going to say after finding out he’d spent the night at her apartment. Jordan, however, was eagerly awaiting the conversation that was about to ensue. He was looking forward to making the shining star of the organization squirm, to making him finally realizing that underneath his facade, he had a crush on Loren just like Loren had a crush on him. It was middle school and childish but Jordan was a catalyst, he made things happen, and this was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.

“Morning, Sid,” Jordan beamed as the man in question slid into the back seat. “Have a good practice the other day?”

Sidney gawked at his teammate, unable to figure out why they were speaking. “It was fine?”

“That’s good. Geno said he’s going to beat the shit out of you tomorrow just to make sure you’ll be good to go by the time the season starts.”

Sidney wasn’t focusing. All he could think about was the look of pure tranquility on Loren’s face, the way Jordan was cracking jokes like there was nothing wrong with him accompanying her. Maybe it was a ploy to get under his skin, maybe it was a trick Loren had kept up her sleeve, but he wasn’t laughing. It wasn’t funny. She worked for him. She had no business getting involved with his teammates, whether it was on a personal level or not. All the snide comments Jordan had made about her flooded into his memory, making him even angrier. Jordan hated her – he wanted absolutely nothing to do with her whatsoever. Yet there they were in front of him, flaunting their new friendship for all the world to see.

“Do you have an appointment too?”

Jordan smirked, impressed with how easily his plan was coming along. “Oh, no. Loren said she’d drop me off at the rink on the way.”

“What?”

“Oh, I was at her place last night–”

“You were what?”

“Did you know she makes awesome pancakes? Like, the greatest pancakes I’ve ever eaten? Absolutely fantastic pancakes.”

Sidney was seeing red. He couldn’t remember a time he’d been so angry. Games in Philadelphia came close but this had taken it to a new level. What in God’s name was wrong with Jordan? Had he taken too many pucks to the head? Was he out of his fucking mind?

He turned his attention to Loren, who was seemingly in her own world as she drove through Pittsburgh. “You made him breakfast?”

She looked back at him through the rearview mirror. The way her aqua eyes locked on him made his breath hitch and he completely forgot what he was going to say. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he grumbled. He abandoned the conversation and stared out the window.

What bothered him the most was that he couldn’t pinpoint the source of his anger. Loren wasn’t stupid enough to risk her job so there was no way she could’ve slept with Jordan. Besides, Jordan wasn’t the type to stab a teammate in the back like that. Sure, he liked women and he liked sex, but he had morals, and taking what rightfully belonged to a friend was not in his repertoire. But was Loren actually his? He claimed to hate her. They fought incessantly. If he tried being nice to her she’d probably think his concussion symptoms were coming back or that someone had hit him too hard in practice.

Loren wasn’t his, she only worked for him. And she worked for him in all the ways a woman could. She was gorgeous, funny, dedicated to her job, and successful in her own rite. She didn’t need him. She wasn’t the type to fall in love with a man because of his status. That meant nothing to her. She probably would’ve been just as satisfied working for a big-name Pittsburgh lawyer instead of him. She’d probably be happier. That alone drove Sidney insane. She didn’t need him; he couldn’t get through one press conference without her, no matter what he let on.

His anger didn’t fade once Jordan hopped out of the SUV, thanking Loren for the breakfast and the ride. His anger didn’t fade once he took his usual spot in the passenger’s seat. In a fit of over-dramatics, Sidney thought he’d never get over it. He thought he’d have to fire her, that he’d never be able to get over it when she was sitting next to him acting so nonchalant.

“So you made Jordan breakfast, eh?”

“Are you jealous, Sidney Crosby?”

He huffed and turned back toward the window. “No, I just don’t need you fucking your way through my teammates.”

“Is that what you honestly believe?” Loren asked, throwing in a small chuckle for incredulity’s sake.

“He wakes up at your place, you make him breakfast, he tagged along for the ride–”

“He slept with my roommate last night,” Loren interrupted, not liking where Sidney was heading. She couldn’t lie and say she didn’t enjoy his reaction, but she couldn’t have him thinking badly about her. They were already swimming in dangerous waters as it was. One wrong move and she could be out of a job.

“Right,” he scoffed.

“Ask him yourself, Sidney. I walked in on them having sex in the kitchen.”

He didn’t have to look at her to know she was being truthful. Loren wasn’t a liar. Her word was her bond and she’d never gone back on it when it came to him. There was no reason for him not to believe her, but he still couldn’t bring himself to cope with what had happened. Whoever Loren’s roommate was was a mystery to him, although he was relieved it was a girl.

“Did you really have to make him breakfast? Why couldn’t you have just kicked him out?”

“I thought you Canadians were known for your hospitality and good manners?”

“He has no business getting involved with you.”

“Give it a break, Sidney. He had no idea who she was.”

“Right,” he scoffed again. “That’s a totally believable story.”

“Did you know I had a roommate?”

“No–”

“Then what makes you think Jordan would know?”

Sidney didn’t have an answer. Loren was constantly putting him in his place, refusing to take his shit simply because of who he was. That didn’t stop him from trying to dish it out, though. He figured he’d win an argument one day and that day, whenever it may be, couldn’t come fast enough. He needed to shut her up, to prove to her he had a backbone and was more than hockey and defunct contretemps.

He huffed one last time before leaving the subject for good. “You’ve never made me breakfast.”