If I Knew

Marc and Eric walked into the bar where Jordan said he was going with some of his old teammates that night. The place was packed but Jordan was easy to find, his blonde head towering above the others. They joined him, James Neal, Sidney Crosby, Kris LeTang, and Chris Kunitz in a roped off VIP area. Nearby sat some of the other guys that had been invited to camp and Eric went off to talk to some of the guys he had played with in Vancouver in 2010.

"Hey," Marc said, sliding into an empty chair at Jordan's table.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Jordan asked quickly. He was surprised that Marc and Eric had shown up. Both had said they just wanted to relax, get a good nights sleep ahead of tomorrow's start. He glanced around quickly, not seeing Felicia around and trying to figure out the quickest way to get Marc on the opposite end of the bar than her.

"Having a beer. Is that okay with you?"

It wasn't okay. Jordan wanted Felicia happy and after what had happened earlier, he suspected that meant her not having to see Marc. "You said you weren't coming out."

"I changed my mind."

"Come on, let's go talk to Eric and Toews. I bet Sharp has some great stories about Kane after their cup win this year."

Jordan stood and started to move away, Marc following his lead but not before Felicia's giggle came from behind them. Jordan frowned as Marc turned at the sound.

"Nealsy!" She squealed, falling into James’ lap, throwing her arms around his neck, moving in to press a kiss to his cheek. James tilted his face and her lips landed at the corner of his mouth. She giggled at him and Marc was stunned. This was a version of Felicia he had never seen before. Flirtatious, forward, and worst of all making eyes at a hockey player that was not him.

"Did you get me a drink?" She asked as she batted her eyes at him.

"Nope," James smiled, sipping from his beer.

"Why not?" She pouted playfully from her perch.

"You left me for Nash and I’m positive I’ve got better moves than him."

She giggled. “I bet you do,” she purred, running a finger coyly around the neck of his t-shirt.

Rick Nash walked up then and clamped a hand on Marc's shoulder where he stood frozen in place. "I heard that, Felicia,” he smiled. “And I will remember you said that.”

“Try to prove me wrong,” she flirted back.

He chuckled. “How come you've never brought Felicia to New York, Staalsie? You've been holding out on us, man."

"She's Jordan's friend, not mine," he gritted out, distracted by the obscene amount of leg Felicia currently had on display as she leaned into James. His eyes slid up the toned calves to her thighs, all tan and silky skin, inviting everyone to have a look. He hated it instantly, even though he had no right to.

"You grew up together though, right?"

Felicia laughed and straightened to look up at Rick. She had ignored Marc’s presence as soon as she saw him, instead resuming the fun flirting she had going back and forth with James and maybe amping it up just slightly with Marc there to watch.

Maybe.

"Marc hates me, Rick. When he says I'm Jordan's friend, he means it. Marc and I have never been friends. We will never be friends." She stood and Marc gaped at her. She felt his eyes on her, roaming over her, and it zinged through her body like an electrical charge.

Her dress was green, a bright jewel color, and short, really short in Marc’s mind. A key hole cutout on the front gave a glimpse of her cleavage but the back was open, straps crossed at the center of her back, her shoulders exposed. He realized then that her shoulders turned him on more than anything and thoughts of touching them again the way he had in the barn immediately crossed his mind.

Her heels were gold and sky high, accentuating the miles of legs Marc had already taken in, making them seem even longer. He had never seen her in high heels, not even for Jordan's wedding, let alone a dress, and certainly never a dress like this, one that hugged every inch of her, one he was used to seeing on girls in the club but not Felicia.

She tugged at the hemline, a futile cause given it's skimpy nature and grabbed James' hand. "Come on; you owe me a drink." James smirked at the group and wrapped an arm around her waist as he maneuvered them through the bar, keeping her pressed close to his side. Marc's eyes followed them and his fists curled as he watched James dip his face close to Felicia's ear, his hand sitting low on her waist.

Marc saw red. Blinding, hot, red rage. "Marc," Jordan said quietly, nudging him in the direction Eric went.

He shook his head violently and leveled his brother with a stare. "How much has she had to drink?"

"One shot with me when we got here. She's been nursing the same beer for the last two hours."

He was thankful she wasn't drunk and at least had her senses but then again, she was flirting and wearing a tiny dress, both things Marc was hugely unaccustomed to so maybe her senses weren't exactly where he thought they were.

"Are they together, Jordan?"

Jordan studied his face, unable to read his brothers stony features. He saw Marc's eyes focus and then narrow on a sight behind him and Jordan turned to see what he was looking at.

Felicia had her hand on James' chest and his face was still bent close to her ear. He seemed to be telling her something, her smile growing before she whispered back to him. James smirked at whatever she said.

"She barely knows him. He wanted me to put in a good word for him but they aren't anything yet. They could be. Doesn't Fe deserve someone to treat her well, to love her?" He paused, watching Marc for something, anything, that would clue him in to what was really going on between his brother and his best friend. Marc had never expressed a protective bone towards Felicia in his life. Jordan had, Jared too, even Eric but never Marc.

If Felicia wanted to be one of the boys, then she could take care of herself. That was how Marc had always felt about it. Now... now Marc wanted to shove James Neal to the ground and beat him to within an inch of his life for even looking at her. The touching part would definitely be the reason he ended him.

"Marc, what is going on with you? She told me about the kiss at my wedding. What were you thinking? Why did you do that?" His questions fell on deaf ears as Marc watched James slide his hand down Felicia's spine before settling on her ass, cupping it and pulling her against him as she giggled, turning into him.

"Excuse me," Marc said darkly, shoving his way towards Felicia. He heard Jordan call out his name but he only had one focus. When he reached her, he pulled Felicia from James' touch and outside with him. She yanked her arm away from him when he stopped.

"What the fuck, Marc? Jordan said you weren't coming out, that I didn't have to deal with you being an asshole." She stood back from him, her hands on her hips, her eyes dark and stormy.

"What are you wearing?" Marc asked, taking a step towards her. In her heels, she was maybe an inch or two shorter than him. She was caught off guard as he moved towards her and she moved back, stumbling on the uneven concrete. Marc reached for her, an arm encircling her waist and pulling her to him.

"What are you wearing?" He repeated.

His face was inches from hers and for the first time, she got a look at the reminder his eye injury had left behind, the pupil to his right eye large and permanently dilated. It did nothing to hide the rage that flashed in them though. His features were angry and probably a match to her own. But then she took in the freckles that stretched across his nose, dotting his cheeks and she felt her heart soften a little. "A dress," she finally breathed out.

"I've never seen you in a dress."

"You never paid attention."

"Name one time you've worn a dress before."

"Senior prom."

Marc frowned. "I wasn't home for prom."

"Jordan was."

"Jordan was your date."

"It wasn’t a date. He's my best friend and he did me a favor. You would never do me a favor because we are not friends."

"My mistake." She struggled against him, wanting to regain control, any control of the situation before she sank further but Marc held her tighter. "Stop fighting me, Flea."

"Don't call me that."

"Flea?"

"Yes, Flea. I hate that."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"You're sorry? Are you fucking kidding me right now, Marc? I know you're a guy but seriously. I cried that summer we were sixteen and you started calling me that. You know that because I ran crying from that stupid tree house that day!"

"And I felt really bad about that."

"No you didn't! You laughed. I heard you as I ran. Jordan came and apologized for you. You never said you were sorry because you never would have meant it."

"I knew later that I was sorry for making you cry, even if I was dumb and didn't know it then. I mean it now. I'm sorry but the only reason I still call you that is because you're my Flea, my little pest.” He paused and let out a frustrated growl, letting her go and stepping back. “Jesus Christ, Felicia! I'm in love with you!"

Felicia froze and it took a minute for her brain to catch up with her pounding heart. She blinked rapidly as Marc stared down at her. "I love you, Flea. Do you know what you did to me that night at Jordan's wedding? I haven't been able to think straight since then. All I have thought about for two years is you, that kiss, your lips, your body against mine. And I'm pretty sure that I'm going to have go back in there and kill James Neal for touching you, and Rick for looking at you, probably touching you too, which isn't great for business since we're teammates."

She blushed and dropped her gaze from his. "Say something, please," Marc whispered as he stepped towards her again.

A million thoughts ran through her mind with Marc's admission, his words running on a loop. Marc Staal loved her. Her! Felicia Todd. She knew how she felt about him and as it all processed and her mind began to function again, every bit of anger left her body and she looked back up at him, a sweet smile forming across her face.

"Ditto," she finally said. He looked at her in confusion. "Ditto everything you just said. No one else has been you," Felicia admitted. She reached for his hands and wrapped her fingers around his. "I've compared every guy to you since that kiss in the barn happened. Every last one of them, Marc. I really wish Eric hadn't walked in."

Marc breathed a sigh of relief. "I wanted to punch him in the face so bad." Felicia laughed and Marc held her close, his hand skimming down her sides. She liked him. He wasn't crazy. He had felt crazy for two years and now this, this felt like victory.

"I don't have a roommate. God knows how or why, but I have a single room," he said.

"You're not with Eric?"

"Jordan is."

"Oh."

"We don't have to go but if we stay, just know that I'm going to kill any one of those fuckers that looks at you."

"Even Crosby?"

Marc groaned. "Crosby was checking you out?"

"No, not Crosby. He's too nice for that; he looked away. Besides, his giggle is kind of a turn off anyway."

"Thank god," he muttered.

"It's really hard to do anything in this dress though; do you have sweat pants in your room?"

Marc nodded. "Yes."

"I really need sweat pants; come on." She stepped away from him and tugged at his hand but Marc held firm.

"Wait a second," he told her.

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to kiss you right now."

"Oh," she blushed again and Marc smirked, cupping her face in his hands.

"Is that okay?"

"Does this mean we're friends?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, we're friends. I might even start calling you my girlfriend. I also don't hate you, for the record."

"Oh no, I got that part of the memo," she teased.

"Good. Don't ever forget it because you're it for me."

He moved closer to her, his lips inches from her when Felicia abruptly pulled back. "What's wrong?" Marc asked.

"Why didn't you call me back, after you got hurt last season? I called you and if you were thinking about me, wasn't that invitation enough to call me back?"

"I never thought you liked me back," Marc admitted. "I thought I had lost my mind."

"But I called Marc."

"And you're Jordan's best friend, and friends with my entire family. I thought you were just being polite and I didn't want to call you and just blurt out how desperately I wanted you in the city with me, to make me feel better."

"Marc...." Felicia whispered, tracing her hand along his cheek and down his jaw. "You should have called me back. I would've been on the first bus for you if you had asked."

"Really?"

"Really. I fell in love with you in that barn. I was scared for you. I just wanted to hear you say you were okay but I had to hear it from Jordan because you're a jerk."

"I'm not a jerk!" Marc protested. "We had a series of miscommunications."

"You were a jerk growing up."

"I'm grown now and trust me, being a jerk for the last two years was not my intention. Besides, you've always been kind of bitchy to me."

"Because you were an asshole first!"

"Can we agree that was our past and that this is maybe our future?"

"I can concede to that. But first tell me you're okay."

"I'm okay now," Marc grinned. "As long as I have you."

"You have me. I love you." The words felt funny at first, saying them to Marc but she knew they were true. She felt them everywhere.

Marc grinned. "Ditto," he answered before lowering his lips to hers and sharing the single best kiss of his life with her.