Good Night, Moon

Her feet pounded on the treadmill’s belt as she ran.
Her heart was pounding, thinking about last night.
The Penguins were gone but that memory wasn’t. She still remembered how out of breath they both were when their lips parted. His hair was so soft.
Softer than she remembered. She always remembered his hair being coarse and a little greasy.
Maybe he took better care of it nowadays.
The song changed and she looked down to see the album art of Kid Cudi’s Indicud. She kept running, though. Her mindset was trained to stop only when a call came through-
“Hello?” She slammed her finger on the negative button on the speed meter.
“Hey, Toad, what are you doing today?”
“Nothing. Why?” She came to a stop. Nicklas could hear her panting.
“Did I interrupt something…?”
“I was running.” She chuckled.
“Oh. We’re having a team dinner.”
“What time?” She looked at her iPod. It was only two.
“Around six.”
“I’ll be ready by then.”
“Alright”
“Thanks Nick.”
“I’ll see you then, Toad.”
Her life was simple. Though most people around her would think she lived in luxury because she lived in a house she only used the first floor of and she had dinner at six star restaurants with an NHL hockey team, she thought her life was pretty normal.
So it was just as she pressed the positive button to increase her speed when she got another call, something she never got.
“Hello?”
“Jerica?” She gasped. “Jerica? Please tell me this is the right number…”
“J-James, how did you get my number?”
“Tomas gave it to me…”
“Why?”
“I-I’m still in town…I wanted to ask you on a date…”
“James-I-I can’t be with you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you live in Pittsburgh-”
“Outside of Pittsburgh.”
“And I work for the Capitals.”
“That won’t stop me, Jerica.”
“Please stop calling me that.”
“What else can I call you?”
“Toad…that’s what everyone calls me.”
“Why?”
“B-Because that’s what-James I can’t go on a date with you.”
“I haven’t even asked you.”
“I won’t say yes if you ask me.”
“Please. Tonight, Jerica. Just tonight and I’ll go home and never-…talk to you again.”
“James I have plans tonight.”
“Well-tomorrow.”
“James, I won’t go out with you.”
“It’s just one date. One night.”
“No, James.”
“Then I guess I’ll keep calling you.” She could hear him move away from the phone.
“Wait!”
“What?”
“Tonight…I’m going out to a team dinner. If I say yes, then you come to the dinner with me.”
“With the Capitals?”
“Yes.” The line went silent for a minute. Jerica was waiting for James to laugh and tell her she was crazy. And that he’d never call her again.
“Fine.” Shit.
“I-…I’ll pick you up at five-thirty.”
“I’m staying at the Loews Madison Hotel.”
“Okay…” He hung up.
Jerica stared down at the belt of the treadmill.
“Oh, shit.”

Around five, Jerica found herself sitting in her car, trying to find the guts to put it in drive and drive through the city to the Loews Madison. But her team was going to be waiting for her if she didn’t get her guts up.
So she reached down, putting the car in drive and slowly pulled out of her driveway. Her drive into the city was long and painful on her part.
But on James’s part, he was excited. He’d finally get to see her. Though he’d have to see her through her team, he was going to get to see her. He was pacing his hotel room, trying to calm himself.
Then his phone rang.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Neal. Ms. Petite is here.”
“Okay. Thank you.” He set the phone down and picked up his cell phone. He sent his teammates and best friends Tyler Kennedy, Evgeni Malkin, and Sidney Crosby a text that told them he was going with her.
“No, it’s French. Petit, I’m French Canadian…never mind.”
James rounded the corner and froze. He’d never seen Jerica look anything like that. So professional, but so fucking sexy. He frankly didn’t think it was possible, but Jerica had proved him wrong in many aspects of his current life.
Such as, going to a dinner with the entire Washington Capitals team when he was a Pittsburgh Penguin.
“Um,” James cleared his throat. Jerica looked up quickly, standing straighter. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you…” She blushed. “You look handsome.” She quickly went to him and fixed an extra stray piece of hair, as if it weren’t stray in the first place. “Come on, the boys are waiting.”
“Do they know?” James asked, a beat after she took her first step.
“Yes. I told Nicklas and Alex.”
“Fantastic.”
“You don’t have to go.” She snapped. James was taken aback. “Sorry…”
“It’s fine.” He slipped his hand into hers, which she allowed for a moment before shaking his hand and walking faster to her Jaguar.
“A Jag…”
“It’s the only lavish thing I own.” She confessed, throwing the car into drive and pulling off from the sidewalk.
“James, before you get to the dinner, I’m going to warn you that, though they might look like they mean well, those boys are never into good. They’re always in trouble.”
“Same with us.”
“I don’t think a hockey team of full grown men has it in them to be into good…” She mumbled, looking around for the street she would always turn on. Unless it involves little children, then they're nothing but into good.
“We do.”
“Well, we don’t.”
“You talk like you’re part of the team.”
“I kind of am.” She hummed, pulling into the parking garage and undoing her seatbelt. She greeted the man there, the same one who always took her car when she went to dinner. James, unknowing, sat still.
“James, are you coming to dinner or no?” He fumbled out of the Jaguar and it drove away.
This time, though, Jerica offered her hand to James. He could see, on her clutch purse, the Capitals pin that had been on her blazer when he first saw her, again. He took her hand.
“Where’s your Penguins one?” She glanced down, thinking about it.
“Sitting on my dresser.”
“Do you wear it to work?”
“Sometimes.” She mumbled. The light changed and she quickly walked out into the street, pulling James with her.
“Jerica, it’s a no walking light.” He scolded, mainly because he was scared of getting hit; he blames his mother for the worry.
“No walking in DC means get the hell across the street.” She led him to the doors of the restaurant.
It was one of those where you needed reservations months in advance and they were already booked up until the year 2019 with Valentine’s Day reservations. But the Capitals are a different story. They ask for ID when you walk in and the food is probably tiny.
“Toad,” The staff seemed to know her, guiding her to a table at the back, where James could easily count all 23 Capitals.
“There you are!” Alex called from the other side of the table. Nicklas stood up, sitting beside two empty seats, and hugged her. He shook James’s hand.
“We were beginning to think you got lost,” Alexander scolded. The team laughed on Toad’s behalf.
“Wouldn’t you just adore hearing that.” Toad shot back. The team laughed again.
“Hey, Neal, how’s Pitt doing?” James heard from the other end of the table.
“Uh-alright…we could be doing better.”
“Same here.” Alex chuckled, raising a glass. The team muttered back answers.
So far, so good for James Neal.
But Jerica’s night was just getting warmed up.