You Save Me

To say that Maxime Talbot was in a dark period of his life would be an understatement. After the Penguins managed to win the cup, Max went on a binge week filled with nameless women and copious amounts of alcohol that he barely could remember drinking. He would pass out wherever he could and would wake up the next morning still drunk, only to drink more with breakfast. It was a vicious cycle that tapered out into blacking out from drinking at least once a week. He continued this well into the next season, making a well-known reputation around the NHL for liking easy women and a good party as frequently as possibly. Sid had expressed his concerns multiple times, but by the close of the 2010 season Max was done with listening and backing off.

The real breaking point for Max came when he signed his contract to move to Philadelphia. A new city with his team’s rival was not Max’s first choice when it came to his career but it seemed logical and it made him physically ill to think of it that way. His loyalty to not only his teammates, but also the city that had so lovingly welcomed him and accepted him for his flawed nature, seemed like a joke and suddenly Pittsburgh made him well aware of that. So without a second thought, as he tended to ignore them recently anyway, Max Talbot packed his things and left Pittsburgh behind without another word.



In all of her life, Arianna Marie Templeton had never met a sports player she enjoyed. She was always a beautiful girl, with hair the color of a nice burgundy and oak brown blended together and hanging all the way to the middle of her back. Her eyes were a soft blue, almost grey, color and contrasted well against her deeply olive toned skin she inherited from her mother. She was always smiling and always polite, unless it came to sports players. She held no respect for most of them, her roommate Jules’s boyfriend aside, and did not trust them with even making eye contact with her. It wasn’t irrational, as most of the men that caused her extreme distrust were athletes. It started with her father that once played American Football and progressed through too many types of players that Arianna lost count. When it came down to it though, hockey players always seemed the worst to her with their brute and caveman like attitudes and demeanor.

Of course, she enjoyed her roommate and her boyfriend immensely, so there was always the exception to the rule. Jules and Ilya were an odd match, but that was what Arianna adored about them. While Jules was an American, New Jersey born and raised, girl with a decent grasp of the French language, Ilya was a Russian with barely any grasp on English let alone French. She was sarcastic and outspoken with her opinions. He was intellectual and unintentionally funny to the majority of his team’s fanbase. Jules was short and curvy, with dark brown curly hair and glasses that covered her brown eyes. Ilya adored her though and with his small gestures that Arianna saw, she deemed him an exception to her unjustified hate of athletes.

However, one man was able to change that.



Jules brought up the prospect of them attending a game together casually, presuming that Arianna would already say no off the bat. She told her she would consider it but she didn’t know for sure, but to Jules that wasn’t enough of an answer. Jules sent Ilya to ask the next day and in his broken English, he innocently asked her, “You watch me play, yes? Have not yet and you are breaking heart Ari.”

Arianna could not say no to Ilya, Jules knew that, and by the end of that night she had someone to attend the game with her at the end of the week. Ilya offered to let her use a spare jersey that was not his own and Arianna entrusted him with picking the best player for her. When she walked out of her bedroom in the jersey she nearly drowned in, Jules openly laughed at her and called Ilya a dick for making her wear it. She didn’t understand it, so she rolled her eyes at them both and passed by to find her keys so she could get them to the arena on time. Jules muttered a comment to Ilya about the jersey in question and as Arianna approached again, Ilya motioned to her and nodded at her, “Ari is how do you say…mean tough. She can handle boys.”

“Thank you Ilya,” Arianna smiled warmly at him, throwing her arms around both Ilya nad Jules as she began to steer them out of the apartment she shared with Jules, “Now, to this arena so I can pretend I enjoy watching you hit a rubber puck around.”

“He doesn’t hit pucks, he stops them,” Jules muttered, nudging Arianna with her elbow, “He’s a goalie.”

“Goalie, shmoley. They all figure skate and tap a rubber puck around the ice,” Arianna smirked at Jules and Ilya, knowing she was hitting a button, and crossed her arms in a challenging manor at them. Jules and Ilya ignored her and instead both stepped away to wait by her Jetta impatiently. She rolled her eyes at them, following behind and unlocking the car for them to both climb in the back. Flipping on the radio, she ignored the sports casters as they began to highlight the opening night at Wells Fargo Center. Jules reached up to turn it up, chatting about the season with Ilya in the backseat casually. All Arianna knew about Ilya’s team was that last year when they lost, Jules and Ilya moped around for a month about it and that she heard they took in some penguins, though she couldn’t tell you if it was an actual animal or another team.

Once they finally made it through traffic and pulled up to the back gates, Ilya flashed his pass to the security to allow Jules and Arianna to park in the back where the teams would usually park. They parked close, allowing Ilya to lead them inside afterwards. They followed him to right outside the locker room, Arianna standing off to the side awkwardly as Jules wished him good luck and gave him a short kiss before stepping back. Arianna watched Jules’s happy demeanor fade nearly instantly to a look so angry that Arianna even stepped back an inch or so from her. She looked at where the gaze was directed, seeing a man in Flyer’s gear with brown short hair approaching them. Ilya greeted him warmly, motioning to Jules and Arianna after, “These girls with me. My girl friend the angry one and her roommate is the normal one.”

“Sorry I take my sports loyalties seriously…”

“Sorry I don’t know anything about sports other than I hate most of them?” Arianna offered, making the man in question laugh quite loudly. He muttered something in French under his breath, though Arianna couldn’t understand a word of it and even Jules could barely hear it to translate. Jules instantly looped her arm into Arianna’s however, scoffing at the man in front of her, “I’ll be nice, because Ilya would be angry if I was not. Arianna is nice because she doesn’t know better, but she would kill you if she did. Mais, tu est l'ennemi et ne pas accueillir dans Philly. Comprend?”

“Philly m'a voulu. Je suis désolé?”

“Ugh!” Jules yanked at Arianna, pulling her along as she stormed off. Arianna waved at the two confused looking men, shouting an apology as she allowed Jules to lead her out of the halls and into the main center. They quickly found their seats down by the glass, sitting down to wait the ten minutes still remaining before the practice skate. Arianna glanced nervously at Jules, looking back to the bench next to them every time in fear of setting her off. Jules noticed, sighing as she avoided looking at Arianna and instead stared at the ceiling above them as she spoke, “He played for our rivals last year and isn’t known for being the most responsible or respectable gentleman in the NHL. One of those man sluts you hate so much?”

“Oh. Oh! But he seemed so polite…”

“Don’t buy into that act,” Jules rolled her eyes, motioning to the jersey Arianna was wearing, “That’s his jersey number and name. Don’t be surprised if random strangers yell at you for even daring to wear that into the Wach. Ilya wanted you to suffer for hating him at first.”

“Oh…I can handle it I think?”

“Just wait…”



After the game, Arianna not only had two beers spilt on her “accidentally” by the guy next to her but had be called a traitor and whore multiple times for wearing the jersey. She would be lying if she told anyone she didn’t threaten to cut some guy’s dick off the second time he spilt his beer on her. According to Jules, the player in question came from Pittsburgh and was not exactly a favorite with anyone in orange. The fact that he already had jerseys produced and everything set off most the fan base at first and the Pittsburgh fans still had an undying and devoted attachment to him, even if he went to their rival. She picked at it nervously as they headed down into the halls to wait for Ilya, glancing at Jules as she did, “I did not expect it to be that bad.”

“Hockey is a very serious sport with very serious fans. No one ever expects it.”

“Is he really that bad?”

“Rumor has it, but I wouldn’t know,” Jules shrugged, pulling out her phone and shooting Ilya a text to let him know she was with Arianna outside the locker rooms. A few random girls stood around, their outfits barely covering them and make-up caked on more than Arianna had ever seen. Arianna glanced to Jules for an explanation, nudging her with an elbow to get her attention. Jules rolled her eyes, muttering ‘puckbunnies’ under her breath and not explaining at all to Arianna who or what they were there for. Arianna quickly realized their goals as players would exit and they would turn on their flirting and fake charm tenfold. Rolling her eyes at them, Arianna leaned against the wall tiredly to support herself as they waited for Ilya.



“Ilya!” Max approached his teammate after the game, wiping his face with the towel out of his locker as he did. Ilya looked up at Max with a curious gaze, tilting his head to the side as he nodded for Max to continue. Max sighed, running his hand through his hair as he glanced over his shoulder at the doors they exited out of. “Who was that girl? The sassy one from earlier that didn’t yell at me in French?”

“Not girlfriend. Her roommate, Ari. Arianna.”

“Arianna…”

“Off limits! She is not interested in hockey player. Wants suit and tie man.”

“Why did she have one of my jerseys on, then?”

“I make her wear,” Ilya beamed at Max, nodding before he continued his explanation, “She get harassed for wearing traitor’s jersey!”

“Oh,” Max tried not to look crestfallen as he returned to his locker to change. He quickly slipped out of his gear and into a pair of basketball shorts and a plain t-shirt. Sighing to himself, he ran his hand through his hair again in his typical nervous manor as he hiked his bag full of gear up onto his shoulder. He looked around at his teammates, taking in how easily each of them celebrated their home victory against the Canucks. Without a word, Max slipped out of the dressing room and started down the hall. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the names with a frown. There were so many cities with numbers of ratings next to them that he didn’t even remember, and for once he wished he had someone familiar to return home to. He hovered over Marc’s name, contemplating calling his friend for a familiar voice to vent to for the night.

Without meaning to, as he passed his quite heavy bag knocked into someone and knocked their phone out of their hands. The girl shouted ‘hey!’ as he hit her, making Max stop and glance up from his phone finally.

Arianna knelt down to pick her phone up, thankful that it wasn’t cracked since iPhones tended to do just that from even a short fall. She sighed, looking up at who ran into her and frowning at him. She saw a few of the girls Jules called puckbunnies staring and waiting to make a move, so she straightened up and attempted to fix the jersey she was wearing so that it would hang looser on her body. Max smiled at her, nodding once, “Pardon madame. Je suis stupid! Je ne vous ai pas frappé exprès, je ne faisais pas juste l'attention.”

“I’m sorry…I don’t speak French…” Arianna muttered, looking to Jules for help. Jules rolled her eyes at Max, motioning to his bag he dropped to the floor already, “He said he was sorry, he is stupid and did not mean to hit you but was not paying attention. Because he is an idiot.”

“Oh! No, it is quite alright!” Arianna laughed at Max, smiling brightly at him as she waved her hand backwards, “Pish posh, we all have those moments. Do it again and I’ll beat the shit out of you but once is fine.”

“And Ilya told me you were mean.”

“Ilya is just a sissy,” Arianna scoffed, smirking at Max as she looked him up and down to take him in. He was quite bigger than her, with a tall and broad frame that was tightly muscular underneath his form-fitting shirt. She shook off the idea of ‘attractive’, reminding herself he was an athlete and she despised them for a reason. He offered her a hand, giving her a soft smile as he did, “I’m Max. Any way you’ll let me buy a drink for you tonight somewhere?”

“Arianna,” She shook his hand, smiling back at him as she noted a slight accent to his softer sounding voice, “And unfortunately, as nice as it is to meet you sir, you’re not my type sorry. I don’t do the athlete circuit.”

“O-oh,” Max stuttered in shock, not really used to girls telling him no for anything. He nodded at her, smirking as he heard the door open again and Ilya’s voice coming into earshot, “Well, I will just have to steal you number from Ilya and harass you until you say yes then.”

“Challenge accepted Max.”

“Don’t tempt me Arianna.”

“Do your worst.”



Arianna regretted challenging Max two days after the game. Max loved and hated it all at once. He texted her thirty-four times between meeting her and the next morning at eight, all in order to fulfill his threat of harassing her. He knew he couldn’t stop or he would be not living up to what he promised, but he really did not contact any girl that much. Arianna finally gave in after his sixty-eighth text and Max got so nervous he almost vomited. She agreed to meet him at a small corner pub near her place, texting him the address and warning him if he was late than she would leave. Max showed up ten minutes early and sat waiting for her for another fifteen minutes after they were supposed to meet.

When she walked into the pub however, Max stood up from the booth he was in and felt his mouth run dry. Arianna walked in wearing a tight black dress with a cropped leather jacket over it, the sleeves only reaching down to her elbows. She shifted her weight around from foot to foot as she scanned the bar, making Max notice her black knee high boots she wore to accompany the dress. She spotted Max finally and flashed him a small smile, making her way over to him. He smiled nervously at her, letting her sit before he slid into the booth across from her again, “Did you want a drink?”

“Not really, no. I just said yes because it was the only way you would leave me alone. I am not exactly thrilled to be here Talbot…”

“Oh…well, that’s good I guess?”

"Max...it isn't like I didn't google you before I came here..." Arianna stared at him from across the booth, her arms crossed as she gave him a pointed look. "I read about Pittsburgh and your, well, we'll call them...escapades..."

"It's really...I mean it's like that but I..." Max paused, not really knowing how to explain himself. He knew what he was doing each time. He knew of the drunken photos of him online and the many nameless women that he rated in his phone and never called again. Max wasn’t exactly proud of his life, even though he joked about it with his Pittsburgh teammates all the time. He was never really okay with that lifestyle.

He ran his fingers through his messily spiked hair to attempt to put his nerves at ease, sighing softly as he did. "I was in a very dark dark place in my life. It was like a downward spiral. Quicksand, even, and I could not get out. It is different now. I'm so. I just. I'm so alone in Philadelphia and I don't know what to do. I’ve never felt this way and for the first time in a long time I feel like I have no one."

"STDs?"

"What?"

"Twenty questions, keep up now Max. STDs, do you have them?"

"No..."

"Good. Good answer. Girls then, how many have there been?"

"I. Well..." Max paused, glancing down at his phone. He unlocked it, pulling the contacts up as he handed it over to Arianna, "I'm not proud of this, but you can look through the list..."

Arianna noted her name was actually in there as she scrolled through the phone with an inquisitive look. Atlanta 10, Chicago 3, San Jose 7... Every city had multiple numbers but the only female names in the phone as far as she knew was hers. She nodded slowly as she handed his phone back, glancing up to him, "Wow. That’s…uhm…a lot..."

"I'm not proud of this list, mind you."

"I know. Just one more question, why try with me then if you have so many options?"

"Because after meeting hundreds of women in my life, I still have never met one as unique as you. You caught my eye and I met you once,” Max paused, making eye-contact with her as he continued, “I realize that you are too good for me and I need that. Because you shouldn't want to be around me and that makes me want you more."

"I don't date athletes. I shouldn't want to have anything to do with any of you. Ilya is a rare exception in my hate of all things sports..."

"Then think of my as a lost Canadian who wants to find his stability again."

"Does this Canadian promise he's not trying to sleep with me and leave? Because I have had that happen and I don't very much enjoy it Monsieur..."

"Maxime Talbot."

"Monsieur Talbot?"

"I swear I am not. I won't even touch you until you ask if that is what you need..."

"Ilya and Jules won't be pleased with me for this."

"My publicist will..."

"That is a given," Arianna rolled her eyes, flagging down one of the girls working the bar. She ordered a Jack and Coke no ice without a second thought, making Max smile appreciatively. She looked back at him with a contemplative look, taking him in again, "You barely even know me. Why choose me to end your streak you have going?"

"You are beautiful and passionate, I like that. You didn't take anyone's shit at the venue, even with my jersey on. I saw you threaten to cut some guy's dick off for spilling his beer on you on purpose twice and couldn't stop this if I tried to. From that moment on I felt like I needed to know you somehow."

"Well he would have deserved it, so..."

Max sat back, smiling widely at her as he did. She finally uncrossed her arms and let them rest on the table, only moving to grab her drink once it was set down. Max watched her every move carefully, noting she didn't even cringe when drinking the whiskey and coke mixture she had ordered. Arianna watched him as well, finally sighing after a few minutes of silence and rolling her eyes at him, "Fine. We can do dinner and see how it goes. Text me if you want but those other girls better be out of your phone if you want to continue talking to me!"

"You act like I'm breaking your arm over this..."

"Let's put it this way, I haven't dated, let alone dated an athlete, in almost six years. Six, Maxime. This is a ‘breaking my arm’ situation."

"I won't be bad, I promise."

"Better hope you keep that."



Arianna sat with Jules over a year later, sipping wine on the couch of the apartment they still shared. Well, for that moment at least. Arianna glanced around, taking in how it already felt empty to her with all of Jules's things taken down. She looked back to Jules, pouting at her as she did, "I cannot believe you are leaving me for a boy Jules. Ilya is great and all, but I'm going to miss you."

"Oh shut up you. I'm six blocks away. Act like we won't be with each other all the time!"

"Uhm, we won't be though! How am I going to annoy you from the living room six blocks away?"

"Skype is a fantastic invention isn't it?"

"I still hate you." She sipped at her red wine delicately as she heard the front door open. Jules perked up, looking over the back of the couch. She scoffed as she saw who walked in, sinking back down and drinking a huge sip of her wine, "Oh. It's you again..."

"Mmm I do believe I live here starting tomorrow Jules," Arianna felt his large arms wrap around her from behind, and his face buried in her shoulder almost instantly. She turned her head to the side, kissing him softly as she hummed in agreement. He pulled back, staring down at her with a bright smile. She returned it, squeezing his arm lightly as she did, "Sorry about the series. Guess 2012 wasn’t the year for it..."

His smile faded, a disappointed look taking over as he shrugged nonchalantly and attempted to play off his disappointment, "Devils played well, I couldn't ask for a better opponent."

"I know but playing Pittsburgh was hard enough for you, Maxime."

"Seriously I'm fine. It's Ilya we need to worry about. Philly is attacking him ruthlessly."

"I know," Jules spoke up finally, hugging herself as she frowned deeply. She looked distant, as she had frequently throughout the season. With the league and Philly riding Ilya about his efforts, Jules was starting to feel the pressure on herself as well at home. Ilya was so disappointed and distant from her, but she did her best and he knew and cared still. He reminded her daily that she was his stability in life, but she still hated talk from the press about her fiancé. “They’re just…they are so hard on him. I never realized the pressure they put on him. They make him feel lower than dirt and it’s like I can’t do anything to help sometimes. He has no confidence left. Nothing. The fans ride him like he’s the only reason we lose games and he feels that way now too every loss we get. You should’ve seen him first game against the Devils.”

“I did,” Max spoke up as he rearranged Arianna to be leaning against him while he sat on the couch beside her, his arm loosely rested around her waist, “You are doing all you can, trust me. It will get better, especially with this move in and wedding planning.”

“I guess you’re invited since Ari just had to choose to be with you,” Jules rolled her eyes at Max, acting as though it was causing her immense pain to invite him. She heard the front door again and leapt up, smiling brightly at Ilya as he entered. He gave her a smaller smile in return, making Jules instantly concerned. Arianna waved at her, nodding as Jules mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ and drug Ilya back outside to leave with him. Stretching her arms above her head, Arianna yawned and glanced at her clock. She set her wine glass aside as she turned to face Max, smiling brightly at him as she did, “Bonjour Monsieur Maxime…”

“Belle, you know you speaking French drives me insane.”

“S’why I do it you doofus,” Arianna smirked, leaning in to press her lips to his softly. Max took a deep breath through his nose as he pressed back harder, one hand coming up to rest on her cheek and the side of her throat. Arianna sighed into the kiss, pulling back enough that their foreheads and noses were still touching, “I am glad to finally have this space for myself and well, I guess you too.”

“You guess huh?” Max smirked, holding her around the waist as he let his eyes fall closed once more, “You know, I am so glad you let me take you to dinner before. Over a year now, you know…”

“I know,” Arianna smiled as she let her eyes fall closed as well, taking in the feelings of him holding onto her like she was going to leave, “What has you so tense?”

“I just love you, so much, and I am so glad you came into my life when you did. You saved me.”

“Max…”

“You did Arianna. You came into my life so suddenly at just the right moment and saved me from myself.”

“You saved me Maxime. I wasn’t living until I met you. I love you, so much.”

“I love you too Ari.”

“Welcome home Max,” Ari opened her eyes, meeting Max’s stare with a grin, “Welcome home.”