Inside Out

“This is me.”

I bit my lip as I glanced up at the two-story condo in front of us. I wasn’t sure what to expect but this place wasn’t it. Half of me assumed he’d be holed up in a nice place in a gated luxury apartment complex, not in a nice-but-unassuming condo a few blocks from the Coliseum. The other half figured that his place was just another apartment building in downtown Uniondale.

“It’s nice,” I offered after a long moment of silence. I was stumbling as I searched for words.

John laughed and slipped out of the car. He was around the front and opening mine before I could even register what was happening. Being at his place was putting me off-center. Especially after yet another loss while I was in attendance at Nassau. There have been four games since the first game John asked me to and I’ve been to three of them. The only one I didn’t go to was a blowout win for the Islanders against Montreal, one of the conference’s best teams. Coupled with the fact that John has been held off the scoresheet save for a shootout goal in the lone win I’ve witnessed it’s made me feel like a jinx.

“C’mon, Dougie's wife made lasagna last night,” John said as he held out his hand to help me from his car.

I followed him out of the car and up the stairs into his condo. As soon as we got inside he hung his keys on a little hook by the door and toed out of his shoes. I followed suit, slipping out of my converse and sweatshirt.

“You can look around if you want. I’m just going to go get changed,” John said as he draped my sweatshirt with his jacket over a nearby chair. I nodded and watched as he slipped out of the entryway and headed inside.

Following after him, I stopped just inside the condo and glanced around. Just out of the entryway there was a set of stairs with a living room on one side and a hall that seemed to lead to the kitchen on the other. Opting for the living room, I planted myself on his couch and rested my head against the back, waiting for John’s return.

Even though we hung out after every game I'd been to and exchanged texts or talked on the phone when we weren't together I still felt a little awkward. Our dates after the games were only an hour or two, tops, and most of our in-depth conversations came via text. It scared me a little and I couldn't help but wonder if he'd realize that he didn't want to spend time with me once he got to know me. I craved the confidence I felt when we were on the phone or just texting.

“Ready for lasagna?” John asked as he reemerged in a pair of black Hockey Canada sweatpants and a well-worn Oshawa Generals tee. It amazed me how he could look so happy after a pretty bad loss.

“Um, yes,” I laughed nervously. “But how can you be so happy after a game like that?”

John shrugged as he grabbed my hand and pulled me from the couch. “Well, you’re here,” he stated simply before pecking my lips. “And I learned pretty early on not to bring the game home with me too much.”

“I guess you’d have to, playing for the Islanders and all,” I teased as I wound my arms around his neck.

Shaking his head, John wrapped his arms around me and tugged me close. “You’re lucky I like you,” he warned, a smile spread wide across his lips. The laugh that tumbled through mine died as our lips met in the middle.

My eyelids slid shut as I melted in his embrace, completely losing myself in the feeling of his lips moving against mine. It wasn’t like our other kisses; this one was slow and languid, like we had all the time in the world. My fingers gently slipped through the hair at the back of his head while his arms coiled tighter around my midsection. We moved together as one, slowly backing up until I fell back onto the couch, tugging John down on top of me.

His arms moved from around me to rest on either side of my face while our lips continued to dance together. My body felt like Jell-O as I moved my hands through his hair, gently caressing him. I wanted to freeze everything around us and just live in this moment, where nothing mattered but his lips on mine and the light, scratchy feeling of his growing stubble against my jaw.

“So much for that lasagna,” I joked once we finally separated for air.

John’s breath tickled my face as he laughed. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled above me. I couldn’t contain my own laughter as his eyes slid shut and a sigh slipped through his lips. Shaking his head, John leaned back and climbed off of the couch before helping me up. This time we headed straight for his kitchen without the distraction.

Taking a seat at the kitchen island, I watched as John grabbed the lasagna from the refrigerator. It still boggled my mind how I could find him overwhelmingly attractive regardless of what he was wearing or how his hair looked. Even now, bent over as he fiddled with dials on his oven, he looked attractive. It didn’t hurt that the obviously old t-shirt he was wearing accentuated his toned back muscles.

“It’s going to be like ten minutes,” John said as he stood up and turned around.

I couldn’t help but smirk. “I’d say let’s go back to the couch but burnt lasagna isn’t as good.”

John groaned. “Don’t tempt me.”

Something about John just made my confidence soar. Grinning, I pushed myself up so I was on top of the island. Scooting forward, I smirked at John as he stepped into the space between my legs and let his hands rest on my hips. With anyone else I never would have considered such a move. But with John things just seemed to happen when I let my walls down and stopped worrying so much.

“No excuse now,” I murmured as I rested my forearms on his shoulders, my fingers automatically inching towards his hair. “We’re just a few feet away from the timer.”

John grinned as he leaned forward, meeting me halfway for a kiss. When people talked about the world exploding or seeing sparks during a kiss I thought they were overreacting or just lying. But when John's lips met mine my whole body relaxed, melting into him as the rest of the world seemed to disappear. All I could feel was his lips on mine and the pads of his fingertips brushing at the skin underneath the hem of my shirt. And when the timer went off I groaned, feeling every bit like it was ending before it could really start.

“I don't want to let you go,” John groaned, his lips ghosting over my jaw before settling just beneath my ear.

His words sent a shiver down my spine. “Me either,” I admitted softly, my arms tightening slightly around his neck. Even in with me sitting on the Island he was still a tiny bit taller. “But overcooked lasagna is gross.”

John sighed as he leaned back. He looked like it actually pained him to stop and I couldn't help but grin at that. “There's always time after food,” I promised before leaning forward to give him a quick kiss.

Shaking his head, John laughed. “I don't know what I did to find you but I'm glad I did it.”

“Well, you know, it must have been amazing,” I teased to cover up the fact that butterflies were running rampant in my stomach. “But I'm glad you did it too.”

John smiled over his shoulder before turning back to the oven. I watched his muscles work as he pulled the lasagna from the kitchen, disbelief running through me. Maybe John thought he did something to find me and maybe he did. But I had to have some unbelievable luck on my side, too. And I wasn't quite sure I deserved it.

“Alright, ready to eat?” He asked as he slid the pan onto the island beside me.

My stomach grumbled in reply.

- - -

The room was dark save for the flickering TV. Blinking a few times, I moved my neck a little and tried to catch a glimpse of my surroundings. John was beneath me, his arms wrapped around me while he lay in the corner of the couch. I was lying between his legs, using his chest for my pillow. It was wildly uncomfortable and my back cracked as I tried to wiggle myself free without waking him.

“Brenna?” John's voice was full of sleep. “What time is it?”

“Um, I'm not sure,” I replied in my own sleep-laden voice. Climbing off of him, I sat up and twisted to crack my back. “But I need to get going.”

The plan was to watch Anchorman and then John would drive me to my parents' house and we'd get lunch tomorrow before I went back to NYU. Sometime after the opening credits I fell asleep but the DVD was off and Sportscenter was on. The fact that John probably let me sleep and turned off the movie after it was done made my stomach fill with butterflies.

“You could stay here.”

The offer caught me off guard. “What? No, it's okay, I can just get a cab to my parents' place.”

John laughed as he sat up. “I can drive you home if you want to go. But you can also stay here if you want.”

“Are... are you sure?” I wasn't sure we were there yet. It seemed like a move suited for two people that were casually having sex or an actual couple, not two people that were casually seeing each other.

“Yes,” John laughed again. He stood up, his own back cracking as he did and I couldn't help but feel guilty. “Like I said earlier, I don't want to let you go.”

“Well then don't,” I teased, my confidence soaring as I stood up as well. “Lead the way.”

Something in the back of my mind was screaming this was a bad idea. But I pushed forward, smiling at John as he led the way.