Je t'aime, tu sais?

Patrice ran his fingers along her shin, his thumb grazing the inside of her calf, resting gently on his bare shoulder.
They exchanged smiles, and he pressed a small kiss on her left leg.
Her lips curled up on one side and she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. With one hand she held the back of his head, running her fingers through his soft, thick hair.
She sat before him on the breakfast bar, her bum pressed against the cool, smooth, black granite and her legs draped over his strong shoulders, as he sat before her on a bar stool. Held in her hands and supported by her hips held a single cup of coffee which they shared.
They then shared a kiss between their lips.
Finally, she was taller than him, and as his hands supported her around the small of her back and her back end, she set the mug of coffee beside her and let her arms hang between them as her palms cupped his cheeks and she leaned down and forward to kiss him again.
"Again," he breathed on her lips as she pulled away to steal another look at him grinning like the lovesick boy he was; she could feel his smile through their kiss.
"Again?" She giggled onto his smile.
"Kiss me more," he instructed, sitting up straighter to get closer to her face. His eyes were half closed as he grinned.
She tossed her head back and laughed as he straightened up to almost her height. As she did so he pulled her towards the edge of the countertop so her knees were bent over his shoulders and the back of her thighs and her chest were pulled tight to him.
"More kisses?" She asked, feigning shock.
"Yes, more," he said definitively, nipping at her collar bone. "Kiss me more, I'm leaving for a /whole/ /week/," he groaned, rubbing his face alongside her chest, neck, and shoulders, frowning as a cranky child would. He breathed in her scent, deeply.
"Demanding!" Jamie giggled, eagerly pressing her lips to his. Their kiss quickly intensified, as Patrice pictured her body pressed against his as his eyes closed, his jaw open wide to accommodate Jamie's eagerness. All he need do was simply think about the things they did less than twenty minutes ago in his bed to be ready again.
She was in his navy bathrobe that was slowly becoming her own, with the silkiest, simplest, innocent black panties on with a matching bra. The fact that he had caught her getting ready for work when he woke up early before practice and that he could picture her for the rest of the day in her suit, teaching complicated mathematics, with that little, silky pair of underwear on gave him a little hope for making it through an entire week without her. He moaned into their heated kiss, pulling her against him even harder.
He was trying to do the mental math but the logic was getting lost in his brain, swimming through the heavy waves of testosterone that were clouding his mind. If he stood would he be tall enough to take her standing? Would she be comfortable laying on the granite breakfast bar? Maybe it'd be too cold... Were her legs long enough so that she could hook her heals on the tops of his shoulders while he stood before her?
He'd never done it in that position before.
He was dying to.
She began kissing him even more eagerly, and he stumbled as he tried to find the floor with his bare foot and stand, tripping--
--His heart skipped a beat as he threw his hands out to steady himself, starting awake from his sleep with a yelp and throwing his blanket into the back of the seat in front of him.
From across the aisle of their charter jet, Andy gave him a questionable look, his iPad's glow illuminating his face eerily. Seidenberg chuckled, seated next to him, and went back to his magazine.
They were halfway to Vancouver.
From a few seats above them, facing back, Claude rose his eye brows, looking over his laptop screen, checking in on him.
Patrice gave him a feeble nod, raising his eye brows briefly. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up from his slumped sleeping position in his seat and gave a meek laugh.
"Dreaming?" Andy asked, smirking.
"Guess so," Patrice shrugged. He readjusted his Bose headphones, stealing a glance at Pie asleep in the seat next to him. He rearranged his blanket over his folded arms, crossed his ankles, and continued to replay his morning between dreams.
He didn't even realize he had drifted off into a nap on the jet. After he and Pie finished The Campaign, Patrice had checked his phone to see if Jamie had sent him a text, and having received nothing, he had closed his eyes to remember his beautiful morning and miss her privately.
That's exactly how it had went. Jamie had gotten up early--even after laying in bed with him, turned on her side and giving him a backrub--to make breakfast for his last day before the big Canadian Roadie. She told him to keep sleeping as she fried up some turkey bacon (careful to pat it with paper towels to remove the access grease) and eggs, and he awoke to her lips on his bare back, beckoning him from slumber to come eat.
Although he had been hungry, the uncomfortable sensation in his stomach had more to do with the anticipation of missing Jamie this entire week, freezing his ass off all along the Canadian/American border, playing hockey hundreds of miles away from home.
From Boston, with Jamie.
Instead of rising to eat, he pulled her into bed with him and showed her how much he'd miss her over and over and over again, kissing her until she was covered in tiny little spots of his love and her work undergarments were pulled all over her body and discarded on the floor.
He had run his lips and fingers over every inch of her, loving the seemingly magnetic pull his touch had on the invisible little hairs she had all over her body and the tiny bumps that would ripple her skin with his electrifying touch.
By the time that she had to absolutely get ready for work, Patrice had wondered into the kitchen to eat a few slabs of turkey bacon and reheat his eggs as she stepped back into her black bra and panties. With a warm plate, he made his way back to the bedroom to share with Jamie and flopped back on the bed, groaning from a mix of morning pleasure and soon-to-be-dread of heading to practice and getting on the jet.
He ate and watched her get ready in the bathroom, his bathrobe tied tightly around her small body and her hair in her signature messy bun.
He propped his head up with some pillows and let his plate of food rest on his rising and falling bare chest, his sweat pant clad legs laying long before him, his bare toes pointed towards the bathroom.
He watched Jamie's mouth hang slightly open as she put on her mascara and couldn't take it anymore. He popped his last piece of omelet in his mouth and placed the plate aside, slinking up behind her in his bathroom, looking at her through the mirror over her shoulder.
He kissed where her neck met her shoulder tenderly, begging with his eyes.
"Baby, no," she moaned, laughing, as Patrice slide his hands around her waist and pressed a kiss to her neck.
"Why 'no'?" He laughed, running his nose up her neck and behind her ear.
She sighed, shaking her head and trying not to laugh as she screwed the cap to her mascara back on. She flipped around so her back was against the sink and she faced him, running her hands up his chest.
"What time is it?" She asked, pretending she wasn't enjoying all of his lovey attention.
"Yes!" He exclaimed, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her onto the bathroom countertop as she giggled.
And therein started their second romancing of one another, ending with a shared cup of coffee in the kitchen, her legs draped around his neck, and their hearts beating more in sync than ever before.

"/Motherfucker/!" Patrice gasped as the wheels of the jet touched down in Vancouver and the plane gave a great lurch. He threw his hands out again, waking from his sleep suddenly for the second time.
"Did you take nyquil, or something?" Pie asked from beside him, chuckling. "You've been like, way in dream land for the past hour and a half."
Patrice blushed furiously, sharing a laugh with his seat mate and leaning forward to stow his headphones in his bag and pull out his suit. He hoped he hadn't done anything else in his sleep. His dreams had been so realistic and he didn't want to give any of their secrets away while he slept.
"Yeah?" He asked Pie, laughing nervously.
"Yeah, lots of sighing," Pie chuckled, collecting his own things and tipping them into his own bag.
"Oh my god," Patrice groaned, lowering his head into his hands, his face hot with embarrassment as Pie laughed and shook his head.
"Nah man; don't even worry about it," he said comfortingly, giving him a few pats on the back as Patrice pressed his fingers into his eyes, devastated.
"So embarrassed," he groaned, continuing to shake his head in his hands.
"Sucks being on the road with a good girl at home the first couple of times. Gotta live for those dreams between games, y'know?" He said, shrugging. "I always miss Dana on the plane; don't worry about it."
"Thanks man," Patrice said, finally giving him a nod. "I gotta change still, shit," he murmured, leaning out into the aisle to gauge whether or not it was safe to make it to the bathroom.
"I wouldn't," Pie advised from beside him. "Just quickly do it here."
"Damnit," Patrice cursed, lifting his seat belt and sliding his sweat pants off, wriggling into his suit bottoms. Luckily enough he had spent the flight in only his undershirt, so he just had to shrug back into his collared shirt and re-tie his tie as he smashed his feet into his dress shoes.
"You seem out of it, though; you ok?" Pie asked as the plane's doors were opened and men began to rise to collect their belongings and don their winter coats for the cold Vancouver air.
"What? Yeah, yeah," Patrice assured him, pulling his travel bag from under Looch's seat in front of him and slipping it over his shoulder. He stood to retrieve their jackets from the overhead compartment. He handed Pie his Armani peacoat and shrugged into his Boss one.
"You sure?" Pie asked, skeptically.
"Yeah, of course," Patrice nodded, laughing.
"Alright, if you say so," Pie said, entering the aisle behind him as they waited to deplane.
Patrice chewed his lip for a second, thinking.
"Well, I mean," he divulged, turning around to face his seat mate. "I've just, I dunno. Never been away from Jamie this long before. It's weird."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I don't want it to mess with me head for the game, y'know?"
"Don't be crazy, Bergy," Pie said, putting a strong hand on his shoulder and pushing him toward the door. As they made their way down the stairs from the plane, Pie stepped aside his friend.
"You've just gotta compartmentalize; you're a pro at that," he said, reassuringly.
"Yeah," Patrice nodded, thinking of shit he's had to play through before.
"I mean, you're a beast at it, Berg. You can even compartmentalize pain. You'll be fine, man."
"Thanks bud," Patrice chuckled, feeling a bit relieved. He literally had not stopped thinking about Jamie from the moment he kissed her goodbye at his front door and she shut it behind him as he stole his last look at her as he made his way down the stairs.
He stepped aside to let Pie board the bus first.
"You'll be fine. Save missing your girl for after we go out to dinner," he winked, taking a seat next to Thornton, who already had his iPod headphones in. Pie thumped him on the shoulder. "Steak tonight?" He asked the two.
"Oh definitely," Patrice thought, excitedly.
"Don't have to ask me twice," Thorty laughed.