Perfect Symmetry

I walked into the locker room nervously.

“Hello? Is everyone decent?” I called out meekly.

I heard a lot of whispering and laughing before Jon’s voice floated out to me.

“Come in, Jazz.”

I walked what felt like a thousand feet to the main locker room, where most players were pretty much fully dressed. Toews was still in his jersey and equipment, but he was the only one. I went to him first.

“Hey! Great game!” I wanted to hug him but he was too bulky wearing all of his equipment.

Jon smiled. “It was, wasn’t it? Everyone played really well. Even Kaner.”

Kane popped his head out of the showers, wrapped in a towel with an indignant look on his face.

“What do you mean even Kaner ? I always play awesomely,” he retorted, entering the room.

I found myself staring at his sculpted upper body, and before I could tear my eyes away, Pat had noticed.

“Like what you see, Jazz?” he teased, striking a model’s pose for me.

I blushed, but tried to recover. “I’ve seen better ones,” I replied airily.

A booming laugh sounded from the other side of the locker room, and I looked at Jon for an introduction.

“Oh! Jazz, that’s Sharpie,” Jon pulled me over to where Patrick Shark was pulling on his socks.

“Hi,” I said shyly, waving awkwardly.

Patrick flashed me a dazzlingly white smile. “Hello. We’ve been hearing a lot about you from Tazer here.”

I looked at Jon accusingly, and I saw a blush creeping over his cheeks.

“Well I hope you haven’t heard anything horrific,” I replied nervously.

“Everything’s been complimentary, don’t worry,” Patrick reassured me with a grin.

Jon tugged me around the room, and I met everyone from Oduya to Hossa. Finally we made our way back to Kane, who was now fully dressed.

“Tazer, hit the showers, you smell like a moldy gym sock,” Kane laughed, throwing Jon a towel.

“Fuck off,” Jon retorted cheerfully.

“He does smell, right Jazz?” Kaner winked at me.

I smothered a grin as Jon turned expectantly to me.

“Jon, you’ve just played a great game. But you do smell a little like sour cream and onion Pringles,” I answered honestly, trying to keep a straight face.

“In that case I think you deserve a hug,” Jon lunged for me and I swore before averting his arms and cowering behind someone else.

“Go for a shower, Jon!” I shouted from behind this anonymous player. “I’ll wait for you.”

I heard Jon laugh and then stomp off to the showers. I was going to tap this guy on the shoulder to apologize for using him as a shield to hide from Toews, but he turned around first.

“I think Tazer skipped me when he was doing the introductions,” he gave me a smile, “I’m Viktor Stalberg.”

I took a step back and drank him in. He was gorgeous, and immensely tall; he probably had a couple inches on Jon.

“I’m Jazz,” I introduced myself with a grin. “You played a great game tonight.”

He was still smiling, and I caught his eyes giving me the once over. I didn’t call him out, though, because his eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue.

“Thanks; I feel pretty great, to be honest,” he sat down on a bench and I stayed standing to put me at an easier eye level. God, he was tall. “Are you here for Jon?”

There was a lot of meaning behind that question, and I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. Technically, I was there for Jon, but the context was wrong.

“He’s a friend of mine, and he invited me. If that’s what you mean,” I replied carefully.

Viktor studied me for a few seconds before replying. “Yes, I think that answers the questions I had.”

My cheeks burned, and I desperately wanted to find a way to ask if he had a girlfriend, but I wasn’t smooth or brave enough to come up with a way.

“Where are you headed from here?” I asked stupidly, gesturing to his nice clothes.

“I don’t know; where are you headed?” Viktor responded, leaning a bit closer to me.

I leaned away in embarrassment. “I think I’m going to bed. I have work tomorrow morning.”

Viktor’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Well I’d love to join you but I’m not sure if we’re ready for that step in our relationship.”

I laughed loudly. “I’m sure you have lots of other people you can join in bed, Viktor.”

I heard Jon come back from his shower and I turned to go, but Viktor took my wrist gently. “You can never have too many,” he whispered, kissing my hand lightly.

I grew weak at the knees and my head was spinning until I heard Jon call out.

“Jazz, is Stalberg bothering you?” I could hear mirth and utter seriousness in his voice, so I pulled my hand from Viktor’s grasp and turned to look at Jon, whose shirt was only half buttoned.

“No, he’s just being a hockey player,” I assured him. “It was nice meeting you, Viktor.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Jazz. Really,” Viktor smiled at me again before exiting the locker room.

“Are you sure he wasn’t crossing any lines?” Jon’s dark eyes followed Viktor as he walked out.

I put a hand on Jon’s shoulder, pulling his attention to me.

“He was perfectly nice,” I insisted.

“If you say so,” he shrugged, “the jersey looks good on you, by the way.”

Kaner turned around when he heard that. “When did you get that ?” he demanded.

I pointed to Jon. “He did it.”

Jon straightened up defensively as Patrick raised his eyebrows in appraisal.

“I’ll have to get you another one to give you some options,” Kane said with conviction.

I sighed. “I don’t need three jerseys, you dolt. I didn’t even need this one,” I added, looking at Jon accusingly.

“Yes you did,” he said matter-of-factly, like that settled it.

I rolled my eyes. “Speaking of the damn jersey, why the hell did you have it sent to my office?” My voice rose louder than it usually is.

Jon smirked. “Did you like that touch?”

“No, you idiot! My boss gave me a lecture on how I should tell my friends not to send me personal items to a shared office,” I mimicked Liza.

“Did people see it?” Jon questioned.

“Yes, people saw it! And they asked me stupid questions about who gave it to me and all that shit,” I replied irately.

Jon’s nonchalant manner was making me mildly irritated.

“Did you tell them I gave it to you?” he pushed, looking me right in the eyes.

“Of course not! Why would I tell Chicago-dwellers that I know the captain of the Blackhawks? That’s like suicide! Do you know how many people would be on my case? Or how many people would pass messages to you through me? I’m sorry but that would make me pretty annoyed,” I ranted for a good few minutes without taking a breath.

Kaner was gaping at me, and Jon said nothing, but wrapped his arms around me in a warm hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome,” I chuckled, “but what did I do?”

He released me from our hug and my body screamed in protest, but I let him.

“I sent the jersey to your office to see how you would react. If you had told me you loved the attention and told everybody I was the sender, I might have reconsidered our friendship,” he explained.

“It was a test?” I interpreted flatly.

Jon shrugged. “Yeah.”

I hit his chest with my bag. “You jerk! You still thought I might be a self-centered bitch?”

Kane burst out laughing. “I told you not to bother, man. I told you to just send the fucking jersey to her apartment.”

“You knew?” I turned on Kaner, whose smile vanished and looked at me guiltily.

“So I passed the test?” I looked at Jon questioningly.

He grinned broadly and genuinely and nodded. “With flying colors.”

“Good. So we’re all officially friends?” I emphasized clearly.

Jon chortled. “Yes, Jazz.”

“So I can tell everyone I know, right?” I teased, watching Jon’s face darken and I saw the hesitation in his eyes. “Calm down, Captain Serious,” I ruffled his hair playfully, “that was a joke.”