Accidentally In Love

Despite their spectacular comeback in the second period, the Hawks couldn't flick one past the Coyotes goaltender in the third, and the Coyotes managed to sneak one past Emery in overtime. I watched as the team slunk back in the locker room, heads hung low.

I turned to Abby, and then to Jana, and both remained seated. "Aren't we going to leave at some point?" I asked.

"Yes," Jana replied shortly.

"Just not until the boys are mostly changed," Abby explained.

"What are you guys talking about? If you think I'm actually going to talk to Jon, you're crazy."

"You don't have to talk to him. But you two need to make up already because we all miss you here. And you don't exactly seem like the makeout-in-a-closet-and-everything's-fine-and-dandy types. So, imagine there will be some talking involved."

---

The atmosphere of the locker room wasn't horrible, but it wasn't wonderful either. Chatter was quiet, and the fact that we lost to the same team two times in one month was irritating. Some PR girl got the press to back off of all of us early, and I changed out of my gear and showered in record timing. As I pulled on the pieces of my suit, I was praying to every deity I could think of that Emma was still in the building.

I didn't bother cleaning up my locker area. Someone usually wound up doing it for me anyways. It took all of my self-control to not sprint from the room.

---

I was leaning against a wall near the locker room doors when the burst open, revealing Jon, whose head whipped back and forth, searching frantically for something. Probably me.

"Jon." It was all I said. If I was being honest, it was also all I was thinking, too.

"Emma." He voice was breathy, and quite frankly not very manly. But if he cared, he didn't let on. Instead, he approached me, but then stopped just short of my personal space. He stared for a few moments, before opening his suit jacket and rifling around and pulling out a folded up piece of paper. He held it out between us, his eyes desperately sad. "You could've at least done it in person."

I shook my head, angry at myself for my speechlessness. Some part of me also wanted desperately to hug him. To take him back, just like I said I wouldn't.

"Emma," he repeated, taking a step closer, invading my space, and placing a hand on my cheek. I hadn't realized I was crying until his thumb began clearing the tears away. "Please don't cry." He slid one arm around my waist, testing how far I'd let him go, and then pulled me into his body at my lack of rebuttle. "I'm the one that should be crying. I was an idiot and lost one of the best things that ever happened to me."

Gently, he removed me from his arms and took a step away. I think I made a low, pleading noise in the back of my throat, begging him to come back. Begging him to let me back in. [i\]'Weakling!' my brain shouted at my heart.

"Hold on," he said, digging into another pocket. "I was planning on giving this to you the night you left. When you hung up on me over the phone, I knew I was losing you. And I couldn't have that."

Once again, he held his hand out between us, but this time, it wasn't a piece of paper. A small, black velvet box stared back at me. He opened it slowly to reveal exactly what I feared it would be; a ring.

---

Emma stared at the ring with a mix of horrified awe and fear. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

"I know it's kind of out of the blue," I told her, snapping the box shut, hoping to get rid of the look on her face by hiding it back in my pocket.

"Jon." Her face was serious, no nonsense. "Just because someone's leaving you doesn't mean you should... you should..."

"Propose?" I added helpfully, and winced as she grimaced at the word.

"Yeah. That. If they leave, maybe it's just because it wasn't meant to be."

"Or maybe," I stepped towards her, backing her against a wall, leaving just enough space between us that we weren't touching, but the buzz of electricity between us was undeniable. "Maybe I was an idiot. And didn't tell them I loved them enough, or hug them enough, or kiss them enough." I placed my hands on either side of her head, dipping my face her neck, and brushing my lips across the skin there.

A shudder passed from her straight into me, our breaths both hitching. I pressed on, fighting the urge to kiss the rest of the air from her lungs. "Maybe I know I want them in my life, forever."

"Marriages don't just happen, Jon," she whispered, breath tickling my ear.

"I know. And I'm not asking now, but I want you to know I'm thinking it. And I want you to come home." I used my finger to tilt her face towards mine, forcing eye contact. "Please, Emma. I can't survive without you."

---

Jon's eyes were bottomless pools of regret and longing, their deep brown hue sucking me in. It had taken me nearly three weeks to pull myself from their depths, and now here I was, willingly allowing myself to tumble back into them.

He very bravely kept eye contact, and I was the first to break it. Our proximity had my eyes darting for a fleeting glance to his lips, and I guess that was all the invitation he needed.

His lips were feather-light against mine, but a train might as well have collided with my brain. Every synapse in my body fired simultaneously, and the proceeded to short out. He pulled back momentarily, only to whisper my name softly, and gently pull my face back to his. I melted over his body, his solid muscles pressing into my softer spots, and rooting me to the spot. I was thankful for the wall behind me, because I wasn't sure if I would've been able to hold myself up.

We tangled together, probably on pure instinct, relishing in the familiarity of each other. My fingers dragged across the hairline along the back of his neck, while his fingertips caressed my earlobe, both actions making us shiver. When I felt his tongue slide across my bottom lip, I forced myself away, desperately trying to think straight.

His eyes were hooded with desire and lust, and I didn't assume for a second that I was in any better shape than him. "Emma." His voice was husky and thick, and he cleared his throat. When he looked up again, some of the normal, unhormonal Jon had reappeared.

After that kiss, I couldn't tell him I didn't feel anything anymore. That would be an obvious lie. But I wasn't sure I was ready to go back to him yet either.

---

Emma was uncertain now, but her kiss definitely hadn't been. If anything, it told me all the things she seemed so hesitant to say aloud.

"Don't you dare tell me that didn't mean anything," I said, pressing myself against her for effect. "I'm still in love you, and I don't believe for a second you don't feel the same way."

She sighed, and shocked me by letting her head fall forward to rest of my chest. "I know," she muttered. "I just..." She pushed herself back away and looked up at me. "I miss the real Jon. I could care less about Jonathan Toews of the Chicago Blackhawks. I want the Jon back that stumbled into a random diner because he couldn't sleep, and then apologized for no reason. And I'm worried that Jon might be gone."

Her eyes were a deep blue gray that I'd never really been able to resist, and that hadn't changed during her absence. "He's always here, he's here now." I paused, shaking my head at how weird that sounded. "I'm here now, and I'm not leaving until you come home. Sometimes the good side of me gets a little lost in the pressure, but it's always there. Just a little hard to find. And you're the one that can always find it. You bring out the best of me. You are the best of me."

It was silent for several beats, until someone shouted, "For the love of God and all that is good! Just kiss him already so we can go get hammered!"

Emma and I both turned to find Brent Seabrook standing with his hands on his hips, tapping his foot impatiently in what can only be described as a very homosexual motion. Emma snorted softly, before a giggle bursted free. I took that as a good sign and brought her back into my arms and pressed my lips against her's solidly. When her hands slipped inside my suit jacket and up my stomach, I knew I'd won. Maybe not forgiven, but it was a step in a right direction.

"Well it's about damn time," Seabs said. "Now, let's get moving. I plan I getting drunk and laid tonight."

"Yeah, and it's going to take awhile for Seabs. Boy's got no game." Sharpie's words caused several chuckles, which made me realize Emma and I had had quite the audience. But that didn't matter.

As Emma and I pulled apart, I intentionally bumped my hand against hers, and couldn't help but grin as she laced out fingers together.

---

Jon and I lasted all of forty-five minutes in the club, before we'd both had enough. We bid everyone goodbye, before ducking out the back door.

Jon was trying a little too hard. He opened my door to his car, and made sure I was buckled in before pressing a kiss to my cheek. He drove in the direction of his apartment, and I didn't question.

We walked in companionable silence up the stairs of his building, before he unlocked the door. He stood just inside so I had no choice but to brush against him. I made a bee-line for the master bedroom, and right into the closet. It was weird seeing it with only Jon's stuff, but I knew that would all change again.

I was just slipping on a pair of his boxers over my own panties when I heard the familiar creak of the floorboards in the doorway. I glanced over my shoulder, and sure enough Jon stood there, unabashedly watching me change.

I held out a pair of sweatpants to him, and he obliged to my unspoken wishes and began stripping out of his suit as well. It was all done in silence, as both of us watched the other change out of the corner of our eyes.

Just like old times, we walked to the bathroom together. I couldn't help but smile a little bit sadly when I saw Jon hadn't removed my toothbrush yet, from where it rested besides his. Side by side, we brushed our teeth, occasionally bumping into the other, or flashing a goofy face in the mirror.

The moment my toothbrush rested back in its designated holder, Jon spun me to him and kissed me hard and serious. I let him push me against the counter, and slid up onto its surface of my own accord. His shirt did nothing to stop my hands from running across his abdomen, and straight up to his pecs.

Jon didn't waste much time either, his fingers brushing the underside of my breast and making me shudder. He chuckled, but it was rather dark. It worried me, so I broke the kiss and removed his hands from my shirt. "Something you'd like to share?" I asked.

---

Her brow was furrowed, and she held my hands captive from returning to her body. I hadn't meant to laugh like that, but I'd been thinking of her letter. "Accident my ass," I told her.

If anything, her brow furrowed deeper. "In your letter, you said we were an accident. Accidents don't happen twice."

The realization dawned on her face slowly, like my calculations actually made sense. Before I realized what was happening, she was kissing me again with a renewed intensity, that I didn't mind returning in the least.

"I love you," I mumbled against her lips, my hands finding her chest again. "More than hockey." The words slipped out, completely in the moment. But when she sucked in a sharp breath, I knew the depth of them was not lost on her.

If I'd thought we'd been heated before, we were a blazing fire now. After a minute, I'd had enough of groping Emma on the bathroom counter fully clothed. So, I did what any hockey player who sees something they want does. I took it.

I scooped her up, and moved to my bed. Our bed. I poured over the top of her, reminding her of my size, hoping she felt as safe as I felt protective. She cuddled against me for a moment, nuzzling my neck. "I love you too, Jon."

It was a whisper, barely loud enough to hear. But it was all I needed. Her top was gone in a flash, my boxers off her hips soon after. It didn't take long for the rest of our clothing to disappear. We knew each other's bodies well, so the room was quiet except for the occasional labored breath or groan, or to make sure we were taking care of the other.

The slow build was wonderful, but the crash following was mind-blowing. Emma gasped out my name, just as I started seeing stars. We road the wave of our climaxes together, before finally coming to rest in a heap, my body smothering hers.

When I could function again, I kissed her warm cheek and peeled myself off of her and settled in right back beside to her, curling my body around her spent one. Her eyes were already fluttering shut as got comfortable. "Love you," she said softly.

"You have no idea," I replied, resting my face in the crook of her neck.

One final thought slipped across my mind before sleep pulled me under. Maybe Emma and I, and our love, was an accident. But it was an accident that was meant to be.