Status: Complete!
Strictly Roommates
Chapter 5
Penelope’s POV
His smile shot straight through her heart. All those cheesy movies where one night changed everything? Penelope now knew how that felt.
“Hey,” she said weakly, focusing on the bacon on the stove.
“Thanks for the water and Tynenol you left on my night stand, it seriously helped with my hangover.” Jon said, leaning on the counter.
Penelope nodded. Why couldn’t the man put on any clothes?! It was seriously hindering her ability to pretend like nothing happened. Jon, on the other hand, clearly had no problem doing that.
Thankfully Jon decided to head back to his room and change into some shorts and a Blackhawks tee. By then, Penelope had laid out two place settings and a large heaping of pancakes and bacon.
“I made you breakfast,” Penelope said, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“Thanks, but I gotta run. Practice is in 20 minutes, so I’ll just eat at the rink.” Jon grabbed his keys from the table beside the door. The same table they knocked over when Jon was slamming himself into her against the wall.
“Yeah, of course.” Penelope feigned a smile in an attempt to hide her disappointment.
“See you later then,” Jon said, stepping into his shoes and reaching for the door.
Penelope gave Jon a small wave and started eating breakfast like this situation wasn’t eating away at her heart.
“Pen?” Jon asked, stopping with the door open.
Penelope’s heart leaped but she tried to keep her not to get her hopes up. “Yeah?”
“I don’t know what you did last night, but damn, those are some crazy hickeys,” Jon smirked before walking out and closing the door behind him.
Penelope’s smile faded. Was he making fun of her? Is that how he wanted to talk about last night? JOKE about it?
Then it hit her. He wasn’t making fun of her. It was much, much worse.
He didn’t remember the events of last night at all.
Penelope went to the bathroom to examine the evidence on her neck. Jon was right; her neck was full of hickeys and little teeth marks. She ran her fingers along them, thinking back to how she let last night get so out of hand.
-Flashback to Last Night-
“Oh my god, Jon,” Penelope said, digging her fingers into Jon’s hair. He had two fingers inside her and in the next five minutes, she was going to be a puddle on the floor.
“Mmm, baby, you like that?” Jon sucked gently on her neck. It must have been the perfume, because Jon couldn’t stay away from her neck for more than ten seconds at a time. “How come you smell so damn good?”
Penelope wanted to answer but her brain had turned to mush. She didn’t even know how to form sentences properly anymore. Jon pushed her panties down and flipped her over, his breath hot on her neck as he flattened her against the wall.
“How badly do you want this?” Jon asked, pushing his fingers deeper inside her.
Penelope whimpered. This was no longer Jon, her best friend who had seen her at her worst and still loved her. This was Jon, the guy who was going to ravish her for one night and one night only, the way she had intended Dave to.
“Jon, I want you,” she whispered, the words more convincing than she thought.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he said, before unzipping his pants and slamming into her.
-End Flashback-
Jon’s POV
Jon hummed along with the Drake song on the radio, laughing at how priceless Penelope’s face had been when he called her out on her hickeys. He had never seen her so embarrassed before, and Jon had seen far more embarrassing things coming from her in the twenty years he’d known her.
He was glad one of them had a good night. He had been in a shitty mood after the loss, and he was ready to head home and call it a night so he could recharge and be better the next day. Somehow, he let Kaner drag him to a club.
-Flashback to Last Night-
“Come on, Jon. It was a tough loss that we didn’t deserve. Loosen up, we’ll practice tomorrow.” Kaner said with a goofy smile on his face.
Jon glared at him. How could he be so happy when they were 10 seconds away from winning the Stanley Cup? “I’m not exactly in the mood to get drunk and watch you hit on poor, innocent girls.”
Patrick laughed. “That’s where you’re wrong. Girls at the club are definitely not innocent. I promise, it’ll just be a few beers to relax. We won’t stay longer than a couple hours.”
Jon scrunched his eyebrows in concentration. Going was definitely the wrong decision. But he wasn’t exactly in the mood for the pity speeches waiting for him from Lindsey or Penelope. And he really didn’t want to be alone.
“Fine, I’ll come. But only for a couple beers.”
--
The club was buzzing even though it was a Wednesday night. He was at a booth with Kaner, Duncs, Sharpie and Seabs, sipping on beers while surveying the crowd. The throng of people bumping and grinding reminded him of a night six months ago: the night he met Lindsey.
It had been Dunc's bachelor party, and Brent thought it would be a good idea to go to a strip club to celebrate his fellow defenseman’s last night of freedom. Jon had been reluctant to join, as trashy girls in cheap lingerie were more Kaner’s thing. But then the blonde with shoulder length hair and legs for days spinning around the pole had caught his eye. She seemed different from the rest, like there was still genuine beauty beneath the fake eyelashes and thick layers of bronzer she wore. More importantly, when their eyes met, he saw vulnerability in her eyes. After that, he wasn’t able to keep his eyes off her. While the other guys threw back shot after shot of vodka, Jon stayed sober. He wanted to get to know this girl, and he wanted to do it right.
He ended up waiting for her until 3am while the guys went to Sharpie’s house to continue drinking. They hit it off instantaneously, sharing stories over fries and milkshakes at Jon’s favorite diner in Chicago. By the time Jon took her home, it had been 7am.
Jon had never admitted it, but he was ashamed of Lindsey’s career choices. He had insisted she quit multiple times over the course of their six-month relationship, but Lindsey claimed that she wanted to be independent and not spend Jon’s money. He said he would help her find a decent job, and they would get into a fight every time the topic came up. They had just fought about it yesterday.
That just added to the frustration of Game 5. His teammates all had girlfriends and wives that spent their time doing charity work or working in respectable organizations. It was hard for him when people asked him what his girlfriend did for work. It was frustrating how she refused to listen or to make any changes in her life.
Jon walked up to the bar and ordered a round of shots for the boys. Fuck Game 5 and fuck Lindsey. He could deal with it tomorrow.
“Wow, Tazer. I knew you wanted to lose the Captain Serious title but you can take it slow, you know?” Sharpie laughed when the bartender set down a tray of shots for them.
Jon didn’t respond. He grabbed three shots off the tray and downed them.
Kaner whistled. “And someone said he didn’t want to come…”
“Shut up, Kaner. Are you just gonna watch me drink or are you gonna join me?”
“To winning the Stanley Cup!” Kaner said, holding up his shot glass.
“Fuck yeah!” Duncs said, clinking his glass with his teammates.
-End Flashback-
The rest of the night was blurry. He remembered being dragged into a car and feeling like shit in the moving vehicle, and the next thing he knew, it was morning and there was a bottle of water and Tynenol beside his bed.
What happened in between wasn’t important. The important thing was that his hangover was cured, he was on the ice, and he was going to make Game 6 the best game of his life.
His smile shot straight through her heart. All those cheesy movies where one night changed everything? Penelope now knew how that felt.
“Hey,” she said weakly, focusing on the bacon on the stove.
“Thanks for the water and Tynenol you left on my night stand, it seriously helped with my hangover.” Jon said, leaning on the counter.
Penelope nodded. Why couldn’t the man put on any clothes?! It was seriously hindering her ability to pretend like nothing happened. Jon, on the other hand, clearly had no problem doing that.
Thankfully Jon decided to head back to his room and change into some shorts and a Blackhawks tee. By then, Penelope had laid out two place settings and a large heaping of pancakes and bacon.
“I made you breakfast,” Penelope said, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“Thanks, but I gotta run. Practice is in 20 minutes, so I’ll just eat at the rink.” Jon grabbed his keys from the table beside the door. The same table they knocked over when Jon was slamming himself into her against the wall.
“Yeah, of course.” Penelope feigned a smile in an attempt to hide her disappointment.
“See you later then,” Jon said, stepping into his shoes and reaching for the door.
Penelope gave Jon a small wave and started eating breakfast like this situation wasn’t eating away at her heart.
“Pen?” Jon asked, stopping with the door open.
Penelope’s heart leaped but she tried to keep her not to get her hopes up. “Yeah?”
“I don’t know what you did last night, but damn, those are some crazy hickeys,” Jon smirked before walking out and closing the door behind him.
Penelope’s smile faded. Was he making fun of her? Is that how he wanted to talk about last night? JOKE about it?
Then it hit her. He wasn’t making fun of her. It was much, much worse.
He didn’t remember the events of last night at all.
Penelope went to the bathroom to examine the evidence on her neck. Jon was right; her neck was full of hickeys and little teeth marks. She ran her fingers along them, thinking back to how she let last night get so out of hand.
-Flashback to Last Night-
“Oh my god, Jon,” Penelope said, digging her fingers into Jon’s hair. He had two fingers inside her and in the next five minutes, she was going to be a puddle on the floor.
“Mmm, baby, you like that?” Jon sucked gently on her neck. It must have been the perfume, because Jon couldn’t stay away from her neck for more than ten seconds at a time. “How come you smell so damn good?”
Penelope wanted to answer but her brain had turned to mush. She didn’t even know how to form sentences properly anymore. Jon pushed her panties down and flipped her over, his breath hot on her neck as he flattened her against the wall.
“How badly do you want this?” Jon asked, pushing his fingers deeper inside her.
Penelope whimpered. This was no longer Jon, her best friend who had seen her at her worst and still loved her. This was Jon, the guy who was going to ravish her for one night and one night only, the way she had intended Dave to.
“Jon, I want you,” she whispered, the words more convincing than she thought.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he said, before unzipping his pants and slamming into her.
-End Flashback-
Jon’s POV
Jon hummed along with the Drake song on the radio, laughing at how priceless Penelope’s face had been when he called her out on her hickeys. He had never seen her so embarrassed before, and Jon had seen far more embarrassing things coming from her in the twenty years he’d known her.
He was glad one of them had a good night. He had been in a shitty mood after the loss, and he was ready to head home and call it a night so he could recharge and be better the next day. Somehow, he let Kaner drag him to a club.
-Flashback to Last Night-
“Come on, Jon. It was a tough loss that we didn’t deserve. Loosen up, we’ll practice tomorrow.” Kaner said with a goofy smile on his face.
Jon glared at him. How could he be so happy when they were 10 seconds away from winning the Stanley Cup? “I’m not exactly in the mood to get drunk and watch you hit on poor, innocent girls.”
Patrick laughed. “That’s where you’re wrong. Girls at the club are definitely not innocent. I promise, it’ll just be a few beers to relax. We won’t stay longer than a couple hours.”
Jon scrunched his eyebrows in concentration. Going was definitely the wrong decision. But he wasn’t exactly in the mood for the pity speeches waiting for him from Lindsey or Penelope. And he really didn’t want to be alone.
“Fine, I’ll come. But only for a couple beers.”
--
The club was buzzing even though it was a Wednesday night. He was at a booth with Kaner, Duncs, Sharpie and Seabs, sipping on beers while surveying the crowd. The throng of people bumping and grinding reminded him of a night six months ago: the night he met Lindsey.
It had been Dunc's bachelor party, and Brent thought it would be a good idea to go to a strip club to celebrate his fellow defenseman’s last night of freedom. Jon had been reluctant to join, as trashy girls in cheap lingerie were more Kaner’s thing. But then the blonde with shoulder length hair and legs for days spinning around the pole had caught his eye. She seemed different from the rest, like there was still genuine beauty beneath the fake eyelashes and thick layers of bronzer she wore. More importantly, when their eyes met, he saw vulnerability in her eyes. After that, he wasn’t able to keep his eyes off her. While the other guys threw back shot after shot of vodka, Jon stayed sober. He wanted to get to know this girl, and he wanted to do it right.
He ended up waiting for her until 3am while the guys went to Sharpie’s house to continue drinking. They hit it off instantaneously, sharing stories over fries and milkshakes at Jon’s favorite diner in Chicago. By the time Jon took her home, it had been 7am.
Jon had never admitted it, but he was ashamed of Lindsey’s career choices. He had insisted she quit multiple times over the course of their six-month relationship, but Lindsey claimed that she wanted to be independent and not spend Jon’s money. He said he would help her find a decent job, and they would get into a fight every time the topic came up. They had just fought about it yesterday.
That just added to the frustration of Game 5. His teammates all had girlfriends and wives that spent their time doing charity work or working in respectable organizations. It was hard for him when people asked him what his girlfriend did for work. It was frustrating how she refused to listen or to make any changes in her life.
Jon walked up to the bar and ordered a round of shots for the boys. Fuck Game 5 and fuck Lindsey. He could deal with it tomorrow.
“Wow, Tazer. I knew you wanted to lose the Captain Serious title but you can take it slow, you know?” Sharpie laughed when the bartender set down a tray of shots for them.
Jon didn’t respond. He grabbed three shots off the tray and downed them.
Kaner whistled. “And someone said he didn’t want to come…”
“Shut up, Kaner. Are you just gonna watch me drink or are you gonna join me?”
“To winning the Stanley Cup!” Kaner said, holding up his shot glass.
“Fuck yeah!” Duncs said, clinking his glass with his teammates.
-End Flashback-
The rest of the night was blurry. He remembered being dragged into a car and feeling like shit in the moving vehicle, and the next thing he knew, it was morning and there was a bottle of water and Tynenol beside his bed.
What happened in between wasn’t important. The important thing was that his hangover was cured, he was on the ice, and he was going to make Game 6 the best game of his life.