Airplanes

They beat the Canadians a little over two weeks later. They had been scoring goals and had started to win, and I was going to games again. Some of them thought that I was the reason they were winning. Who honestly knows what the winning streak had to do with.

All I knew what that I was still heartbroken and wasn’t sure of how to move past my heartache. Surely I had googled and went on yahoo answers, because who understands my love life better than random individuals on the world wide web.

I had heard from Lindsey stating that I was being a stubborn asshole. I kissed him, I was waiting for him in his house, on his couch, and I ran out without an explanation. I had made him feel like he had another shot.

Even I had no idea if he had another shot.

I was still living with Dustin, still mad at the blonde Canadian who still held my heart. I was still hiding away going to games and coming home. I buried myself in my work and not ever really changing out of my yoga pants, although none of Dustin’s teammates really minded, well until my large roommate had informed them I was off limits, stating that I was Matt Greene’s baby sister. None of them had flirted with me since then.

We had an arrangement, he cooked, I cleaned, I watched the dogs on road trips. I knew I was killing his game with the ladies, but he would never put me out. He liked that I bought ice cream and let him choose the movies 95% of the time.

But I missed Jeff. I know its royally fucked, but no one has gotten me like he had. The thought of him had me up all night. I wanted to be there with him, and I wasn’t. He made a dumb choice, a fucking bullshit choice, but I had also made the choice to kiss him the night he returned from Russia.

“I might get traded.” Dustin simply said over the grilled steaks that next night, completely taking me by surprise, choking on my drink. “The Capitals need people with experience winning the Cup and the Ducks need younger players.” He said with a laugh.

“Seriously?” He nodded. I didn’t want him to leave, who wants your best friend to move to the other side of the country when the trade deadline was only a few days away. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“It’s a great chance.”

“But what about Ryback and Jerry!” Jerry lifted his large head from the stone floor looked up and sighed, laying his head back down to close his eyes again.

“I’ll have someone bring them out, you can stay here, I’m paid up until June.” He shook his head, “If this even goes through.”

One thing I’ve learned you know about a trade before the deadline. He knew he was leaving. It broke my heart. After we finished eating I did my duties and finished the dishes playing loud country music against the wishes of the large man who was missing teeth, but I had him singing along.

And then Darius Rucker came up; I had insistently skipped this song since they had returned from the Olympics. I moved to change the song when Dustin protested, stating how much he loved the song and if he was being subjected to this shit, he would be getting to listen to one of his favorites.

<center><i> 'Cause I didn't know I needed you so
And letting you go was wrong
And baby I know you got your radio on
So this is my my bad, come back song

I know I said I wouldn't miss you
But now I'm saying I'm a fool
You're on the feel good side of leaving
And I'm the backside of a mule</center></i>

“Dustin, I need to go.” I wiped my hands on the nearest dishtowel. Jerry followed me to the door. I grabbed my keys.

Now if you’ve ever driven through Los Angeles County I think you’ll understand the matter of fact that there is always traffic, and you get pulled over whenever you desperately need to get somewhere and the fastest time you can physically get there. As soon as the red and blue lights lit up behind me I knew I was fucked.

Back in Michigan all I had to do was throw my brother into the conversation and I would get out of whatever I was in for. Los Angeles, having no hockey culture it wasn’t that easy. If I had only been born as Kobe’s little sister.

“Miss, do you know how fast you were going?” The officer said as I rolled down my window.

“Sir, I have no idea, please write my ticket, I won’t fight it I just have to get to my boyfriend’s house because I think he’s giving up on me since he went to the Olympics and I have to get there as fast as freaking possible because if I don’t I wont ever find anyone as amazing or as kind as he is, even after I left to go back to New Orleans. So, please officer, just write that ticket so I can salvage my relationship with Jeff Carter.” I was rambling. He looked at me like I was drunk. “I’m not intoxicated. I swear to god, I just need to get there.” He started laughing.

“Wait, Jeff Carter of the LA Kings?” I nodded feverishly. “Do you have any pictures?”

“My brother is Matt Greene, I have pictures with him?” I was getting confused, he wanted proof that I was with Jeff. I was broken out and wearing sweats.

“I’m a huge Kings fan! No fucking way!” He started laughing and asking questions.

“Officer,” I looked over at his uniform, “Officer MacNally, if you can let me go right now, I’ll get you behind the bench seats for next game and a signed Jersey from whoever you want. Its so important I do this right now.” He was an older man, reminded me of my dad.

“Next home game?” He was exciting, so maybe my brother was good for something in Los Angeles besides knowing where a good bar is. “Go get him Miss Greene, and if you don’t deliver, I have you plate number.” It was a threat but I didn’t care. I started my car again and drove off, getting off and taking side streets until I hit his house. The lights were on, he was home, alone. His car was the only one in the drive. I pulled the keys out of the ignition and ran to the door, and pounded on it until he opened it.

“Emily?”

“I need you to shut the fuck up until I finish because I don’t know when I’m going to stop.” He nodded. “You fucked up. You almost fucked some whore. But I was just as big of an asshole by kissing you that night when you got home from Sochi. I fucked with your feelings. But you scare the ever-loving shit out of me. You make me want to live a life that I swore myself I would never live, being some hockey girlfriend, and yet here I am. I just drove 97 on the 405 and I got pulled over –“

“You got pulled over doing 97 on the 405?”

“I told you to shut up, and that’s not the point besides the fact I need bench seats next game, but don’t get me off topic.” He nodded once again, eyes wide, “I’m in love with you and I’ve ran away enough times, from Michigan when I was 18, when I ran away from you this summer back to New Orleans, and me regretting it every single moment I was there and when I ran away after Sochi after I kissed you. “ I took a deep breath. My eyes were beginning to water and I wasn’t sure where this was headed. “I love you Carter. I want this. You’re the reason I’m in Los Angeles and you’re the reason I’m being all crazy and ranty and I don’t think I can live another day in this god forsaken city without you knowing that I fucking love you, you piece of shit and I will for a very long time. It might take a very long time for me to forgive you. It probably will make me mad randomly and I’ll pick a fight but I fucking love you, you fucker and I want to do this with you.”

I wiped the tears from my face, his face not letting on to what he was feeling. “Emily, I thought I fucked up forever.” He took a step closer to me holding my face, “Since I’ve met you, you’ve taken me on this insane ride and I know I’ll never ever do anything to fuck that up again, I’d gladly chop my dick off because I never want you to feel like that again.” He brought his lips down to mine, because he was mine. He was mine since that day in the airport bar.

“All of this because of an airplane.”

“Airplanes,” He chuckled and kissed me again.