She's Not Afraid

Local was packed as usual and James was no stranger. A popular hangout for the guys, many of the regulars don't take notice that they're in the presence of a Pittsburgh Penguin.

At least they try not too.

"Wanna grab some grub while we're here? Maybe a few beers?" James sits at the bar, offering the stool next to him.

"Of course! Beer and mac n' cheese. Sounds like the perfect combination." James smiled at me, his hand calling the bartender over.

"Hey Chris." He even knows the bartender's name too. "We'll take a few beers. The usual for me...and Celeste?"

"Guinness, please."

"Wow. Okay, one pint of that for now. Oh! Mac n' cheese and one order of extra hot wings, eh?" The bartender nodded his head.

"So you like Guinness? Never would have thought you'd be that girl." He was impressed and his face showed it.

"My family is pretty good at drinking beer. I prefer the muddy consistency." I wink at him. Chris hands us our beers and James lifts his.

"To the first date." Our drinks clinked, the sound permeating through the bar.

"First date. Hmmm. That's interesting." I take a drink of my pint, my eyes never leaving James' piercing blue eyes.

"Uhhmm. Excuse me, James?" We both turned around. A girl about 5 foot 6, blonde hair and big boobs appeared in front of us.

I'd be lying if I said that she wasn't gorgeous and that James didn't eye fuck her, but of course, I'd be lying. She was stunning.

"Uh, yeah?" He said distracted.

"Mind if I grab a photo? You're my favorite and not to mention, better looking in person." Her laugh was annoying. I couldn't imagine dealing with this on a daily basis.

"For sure." James stood up from the bar, his hand going around her waist.

"Mind if you take the photo?" She looked at me. James looked at me. Here I was, professional fan photo taker. I grabbed her iPhone and stood in front of them.

In a weird way, they kind of look cute together. James definitely looks good with a blonde on his arm.

"There. All set." I handed her phone back, she smiled as soon as she caught a glimpse of the photo.

"Thanks. Get on the ice soon, okay Real Deal?" James flashed her a smile and she about fainted.

The trying times of being a fangirl.

"Sorry about that." He looked towards me, watching me as I gulped down the rest of my Guinness.

"Nah, it's cool."

Chris broke what probably would have been an awkward silence with two heaping plates of food. I could already feel 5 pounds attack my stomach.

"Oh man. Nealer, you might have to help me eat this."

I forgot how huge portions were at Local. Now I can eat, but that's a crap load of noodle and cheese.

He took his fork, digging in to my mac n' cheese without warning.

"Mmmmm. That's good. We can share; these wings are bomb." I watched him as he totally dismantled the chicken wing. Not only was he a hungry man, but he was the only man I knew that ate a hot wing with proper form.

"Do all you hockey players eat like cavemen?"

"Mhmm!" He couldn't even speak due to the amount of chicken in his mouth. I silently ate my dinner, watching him tear through the cooked flesh on his plate, trying not to laugh.

James took his fork, grabbing some mac n' cheese and shoving it in his mouth. I imagine this is what it looks like when you see a lion attack gazelle in the wild.

In your face, hardcore hunger.

A part of me wondered if this was how he was in bed.

***

"I hope you don't mind me eating off your plate?" I asked, drinking the last of my beer before ordering another.

"Nah. Have at it. I have training in the morning so it's better to not carbo-load today. I save that for game days."

"Good. I can't let good food go to waste, haha!" She shook her head laughing. Celeste took her napkin and came at my face. "What are ya doin?"

"You have sticky wing sauce on that face of yours. It's distracting from that awesome beard your trying to grow." She wiped around my mouth, almost motherly but also lovingly.

"Psh. I can grow a beard!"

"The best beard in Pittsburgh. Aside from Duper, of course."

As I was finishing her plate, Celeste seemed distracted by something on her phone.

“What is it?” I asked nosily. She handed me her phone.

“That chick posted that photo I took. Claiming to be your girlfriend.” She rolled her eyes, as if it was nothing less of what she expected.

I looked at the very awkward looking picture. The caption read: Chilling with my boo, James Neal at Local. We’d make cute babies!

While laughing, I threw Celeste her phone back, grabbing mine from the bar in front of us.

“Come here. Let’s mind-fuck everyone.” Celeste scooted closer to me, her perfume as sweet as the sweetest flowers. Intoxicating, really. I centered my iphone, selfie style.

“Say cheese?” She asked.

“Cheese!” I yelled, snapping the two of us. I uploaded the photo to my twitter, tagging Celeste in the process.

@Jneal_18: Enjoying my night with the beautiful and talented @PittifulCelly13.

Celeste’s phone went off again, this time included was my tweet.

“Aww, now we’re the cute ones, eh?”

***

We didn’t stay at Local much longer before realizing that being in the same tweet with James and having people know where we were was bad news. Just as we were leaving, people dressed in Penguins gear was entering the bar, hoping to catch a glimpse of #18.

“Does it ever get old?”

“What’s that?” His eyes were focused on the road before us; he was swerving in and out of the horrible traffic.

“Having no personal life.”

“Sometimes. The fans are great and many of them have boundaries. It’s the ones like that chick that really puncture a nerve. Sometimes I just want to hang with the guys, scotch free. Or date a hot girl out for a beer.” His eyes moved over to my side of the Ferrari.

“Hot chick? You’re funny.” I awkwardly placed my hands on my lap, my thumbs fighting each other as I looked out the window.

“Super hot.” I felt James’ hand touch my arm.

The rest of the drive was quiet, but a peaceful quiet. It wasn’t one of those awkward silences that leave both of us wondering where the night was heading.

We both had a pretty good idea.

James parked the car in his garage and turned the ignition off. His hand rested on the console between us, his hand dangerously close to my thigh.

“You know, you called me James earlier.” He started.

“And your point is?” I darted back.

“Well, usually you just call me Nealer. But back at your office, you said my name. Not even with a sarcastic undertone.”

I contorted my body in his direction.

“What are you saying? That subconsciously I like you because I called you by your name?”

“I didn’t say it, you did.” He smiled.

“Oh James. You want me to admit it don’t you?” I crossed my arms in front of me.

“Only if it’s true.”

I looked down at my hands; they weren’t shaking anymore. The console was my first roadblock. Once I got over that, I was golden. I grabbed James’ shoulders for support as my right leg crossed over his body, straddling him.

We were facing each other and my back was rubbing against the steering wheel of his Ferrari with my hands resting on his chest. Our eyes were glued to each other and I felt James’ hands touch the sides of my thighs.

“Dear James Neal, I’m not afraid of your charm. But you should be afraid of mine.”