Shut Your Eyes

I could hardly think straight.

Not one drop of alcohol had passed through my lips and I was still drunk. I was drunk on his amber eyes and the way he’d stared down at me like he was afraid I’d break. It was probably superficial to notice such things while I had so many more important things to think about, but his smile still knocked the breath out of me. He was so beautiful that it made it hard sometimes to think about anything else, hard to concentrate. I was only human.

The look of disappointment that had flashed across his face when the doorbell rang was one I could relate to. A very strange feeling was surging through my body, and I could still feel the burn of a blush on my cheeks as I got up off of the floor and put the paint rollers back in their trays.

You know that feeling when you’re reaching for something that’s just out of grasp? Like a plate on the top shelf or a knick knack that’s fallen back behind the dresser? That’s what this felt like. I could see what I was reaching for, but didn’t know how to grab onto it. Even worse was the fact that I hadn’t even known I’d wanted it until it was staring me in the face – until he was staring me in the face.

There wasn’t a thought in my mind when I was lying underneath him, but the second he’d gotten up and walked away, a million questions poured into my thoughts faster than I could answer them. All of a sudden his presence broke me out of my silent reverie. He startled me and I jumped, unaware he’d even finished at the front door. He’d brought the entire box of pizza, a couple of plates, and two beers without me even hearing him in the kitchen. Usually Sid’s clunky way of doing things could be heard from a mile away, but tonight I’d been trapped in my head and he’d been rendered quiet as a church mouse.

“What’re you thinking about?” He teased me lightly, nudging me on the arm with a massive shoulder. Silently I breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t bringing up the activities of only moments before.

I took the plates out of his hand and stole one of the bottles of beer he’d carefully balanced on the pizza box. “Aren’t you supposed to be on some sort of hockey player diet?”

An amused laugh flew out of his throat and he took a long sip of his beer before biting into a piece of the hot, greasy pizza. Looking over at me with a smile, he gave me a wink. “What Dan doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

And just like that, his quiet smile and comfortable manner put me at ease. So with our almost pushed away for the moment, we spent the rest of the night finishing off a large pepperoni pizza and laughing about the paint spatters in each other’s hair.

Eventually though, our night had to end. We’d managed to finish most of the downstairs, and decided to call it quits once the final coat of paint was up on Sid’s dining room walls. We’d stood around in the empty room just glancing at the freshly painted walls.

“Do you like it?” I asked quietly, slightly worried about his answer.

He cut his eyes over in my direction and gave me a heart-stopping grin. “I love it. It looks like a home now.” Sidney looked down at his phone and his amber eyes grew wide. “I better get you home before Max sends a search party.”

My face scrunched up in confusion as I followed him into the foyer to get our coats. It couldn’t be that late. “What time is it?”

“Quarter till one.” He deadpanned and held my coat up for me to put on. Now it was my turn to have wide eyes. The idea of Max sending a search party grew less and less farfetched. We quickly gathered up the rest of our things and hurried out to the car in the icy winter air.

Given the late hour, we were one of the only cars still out and about on Pittsburgh’s dark roads. We sat in a comfortable silence, with only the soft hum of the car engine breaking through our quiet atmosphere. From the corner of my eye I watched Sidney as he drove. He’d pulled a dark grey beanie over his hair, with coffee colored curls escaping from the edges. I could tell he was at ease because the focused edge that usually streaked his features couldn’t be seen from where I was sitting.

Sidney was different. He didn’t carry himself with the swagger that many people assumed of him; he was delightfully average, and wanted nothing more than to play hockey as well as he could. While he could have surrounded himself with people that were loaded down with power and money, he chose to spend his time with his closest friends & teammates. When I’d asked what he’d be doing if playing hockey wasn’t an option, he’d taken a long pause to think before telling me that he would still be in Cole Harbour coaching a pee wee hockey team or something similar to that.

He was amazingly humble for someone as famous as he was. It wasn’t like he was unaware of how good of a hockey player he was – he knew he was the best – it was the quiet, confident way he carried himself that impressed me the most. Sidney spent his entire life trying to make other people happy, wether it was the NHL, or the fans, or simply his friends and family. Would it be so wrong to try to make him happy? Even if what I felt for him was no more than a weak echo of what I was capable of, even if my heart was far away, would it be so very wrong?

But at the end of the day, he was still Sidney Crosby. And I was still me – someone who preferred to hide behind her camera and the façade that she’d carefully built for herself over the years. Falling in love with Sidney meant being honest with him about everything, and the very thought of it started a pit of anxiety growing in my core.

After a while, he noticed that I was watching him and a deep chuckle came out of his mouth. “Do I still have paint on my face?”

It was amazing how instantaneously the choking fear vanished, amazing how suddenly the feeling of security washed over me as soon as I heard his voice. My cheeks flushed red, not that he could see it in the darkness of the car, and I quickly glanced away. “No.”

He chuckled again and looked back to the road; squinting his eyes to pick out Max’s mailbox from all the others. “Here we are.”

He pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine, but made no move to get out of the car. Instead, he watched me from the corner of his eye – a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “I had fun today.”

“Me too, and now your walls don’t look like they’re covered in cardboard.” I teased. He narrowed his eyes at me playfully, but his lips spread into a toothy grin.

“You’ve brought some life into them; that’s for sure.” I smiled at his compliment and looked down at my jeans, running a finger over a loose thread in the seam. We sat there in the dark and the quiet, simply soaking up each other’s company and enjoying the peacefulness of midnight in Pittsburgh.

“Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

My eyes shot up quickly and locked onto his. With the moonlight shining into the car, they seemed to twinkle and the amber stood out against his skin. I just stared at him for a second, wondering if I’d heard him correctly. “You want to take me out on a date?”

He smiled and laughed lightly. “Yes, I do.”

“Why?” Sidney’s features softened, and the faintest tinge of red colored his cheeks.

“Well. Uh, it hasn't been a long time, and we haven't been talking late into the night or even hung out enough times that I can't count on my fingers. But we've talked enough for me to know I want to pursue this. You make me smile, and for now that's enough.”

He stared out of the window while he spoke, clearly nervous to be saying these things out loud. But even without seeing his eyes, I could tell he was being honest – and for now that was good enough for me. “Ok.”

His eyes cut over to meet my own, and a smile slowly spread across his face. I gave him a shy smile in return before noticing Max come out onto the front stoop. Sid saw him too, and gave him a small wave as he chuckled. “You better go before he gets the shotgun.”

I nodded quickly and grabbed my bag from the floorboard before opening the door, shivering at the blast of cold air that met me on the other side. “Bonne nuit, Sidney.” (Goodnight, Sidney.)

He smiled at my French and gave me a quick wink. “Sweet dreams, Maggie.”

And with that, I carefully shut his car door and shuffled up the walkway to the front door where Max was waiting for me.

“Qu'est-ce qui s'est tu souris?” (What has you grinning?) He asked slyly, a smile of his own spread unabashedly on his face. I gave a quick glance back at Sidney who was pulling out of the driveway and tilted my head up towards Max’s. Rising up onto the tips of my toes, I pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Rien, Max.” (Nothing, Max.)