I-55

So, have you called her yet?” inquired Brandon Saad as he skated up beside his captain after a particularly grueling practice. Jonathan sighed; this wasn’t the first of his teammates to ask, and surely wouldn’t be the last. It was like they all knew he hadn’t, and the more they asked the more he itched to contact her. The curiosity to know more about her was almost more than Jonathan could bear.

“Nah,” he simply replied with a shake of his head as he gingerly stepped off the ice.

“Come on man, seriously? Why not?”

“She probably only gave it to me to get away, Saad.”

“Are you seriously going to be a girl about this?” exclaimed Patrick Kane, playfully shoving Jonathan in mock anger. “I thought we talked about this yesterday.”

“We did, but that doesn’t mean you got anywhere with your argument.”

“Then fork over Lady Gorgeous’ number if you’re not gonna put my hard work to good use,” he retorted as the team began to peal out of their gear.

Jon rolled his eyes and ignored the comment, escaping off for a hot shower. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander, though. She was gorgeous, undeniably so, and with an accent that Jonathan – and well over half the team – found more than adorable. She probably thought they were the ones with accents, he thought with a small smile.

He quickly turned the shower knob as far to the left as he could, and moments later the steam was fogging up all the mirrors. That was one thing he loved about the locker room showers; Jonathan always hated waiting for water to warm up, but here the hot water was almost instantaneous.
As he scrubbed his body clean, she still hadn’t left his thoughts. If anything, she claimed them even more. It was frustrating, in a way, that she was all he could think about the minute he stepped off the ice. It didn’t help that his team kept bugging him about calling her and, when he told them no, insisting he give them a fair shot. Jonathan knew most of them were rather harmless, but he still felt the need to shield her. He loved all the guys like brothers, but they didn’t always treat women how they should. Hell, most of the women didn’t care, though. They just wanted to be with a NHL player, and have bragging rights to everyone she knew or came in contact with. It jaded the good intentions of almost everyone in the league.

It disgusted him, but he somehow knew that Roxie wasn’t like that.
“Fuck,” he growled, pressing his forearms against the marble shower, leaning his head against his crossed wrists and letting the hot water roll off his back. There she was, again. Always finding a way back into his every thought—somehow, someway. This wasn’t healthy, he concluded. His mind kept roaming to dark places, wondering what it would feel like if her dainty hands were rubbing the body wash into his chest, down his arms. Immediately, he flipped the hot water to a freezing cold. Jonathan flinched, an automatic reaction triggered by the drastic temperature change.

“Hey, Tazer! Hurry up—we’re going to meet at that bar tonight to watch some of the games. Kaner said if you’re not there, he’s taking her home!”

Jonathan recognized the voice immediately as that of right wing Kris Versteeg, and a long sigh pushed through his lips.

“Is that all Kaner said?” he called back in a dangerously low voice. His ears barely picked up the shuffle of a second hushed voice before Versteeg answered, confirming his suspicions.
“He also mentioned videoing it, and sending it to you.”

Jonathan forcefully shut the water off and grabbed a towel, quickly drying off and changing. He stalked through the locker room, pushing wordlessly past Versteeg and Niklas, and out of United Center entirely. There was no way he was letting half the team or more be around her, not without him there to deter them.

---

Roxie was more than ready to get off work. It was only half past seven that night, but she’d been there since the lunch rush began at eleven. It seemed like business hadn’t slowed down long enough for her to catch a breath since, though.

“Hey Rox, this group is requesting you on the third floor.”
She glanced over at one of the other waitresses, Krystal, who had a rather sour look on her face. She jabbed her thumb towards the stairway. “They didn’t want me to take their order.”

“Sure thang, darlin’. Ain’t no problem,” smiled Roxie, taking the stack of menu’s from the younger girl. “Be back quicker 'n snoose through a goose!”

Krystal scrunched up her nose and narrowed her eyes before dismissing Roxie with a huff, who ignored it and quickly headed climbed the stairs. It didn’t take more than a second for her to recognize the group, and a laugh fell from her lips.

“Well, howdy y’all. Fancy seein’ you’s around here,” she chirped, passing the menu’s around. “What are you boys up to?”

“Just thought we’d stop by to watch some of the games,” smiled one, and she nodded.

“You just let me know if you wanna change the channel or somethin’. It’s my job to take care of ya’—speakin’ of, anything I can get y’all to drink?”

Each of the men wanted some kind of beer, and as she jotted them down she couldn’t ignore the one presence missing. When they all had finished ordering not only their beers, but their meals as well, she disappeared down to the kitchen with promises of returning soon.

“Hey, Kody! I’ve got a big ‘ole honkin’ order for ya!” she called to the chef, hanging the ticket up.

“Thanks, Rox!”

As she turned to go, she came face-to-chest with one of the men. She recognized him as the guy who’d suggested giving her number to the only member absent. A small frown tugged on her lips, wondering if she could possibly be the reason for his absence, but she quickly pushed the frown into a grin.
“Well, hello, there,” she laughed. “Did you need to add somethin’?”

“No, no,” he said, and stuck his hand out. “Patrick Kane, I don’t think any of us really introduced ourselves last time.”

Roxie quickly shook his hand, marveling for a moment in his boyish smile. “Well, how about that. I’m Roxie, but it seems like you boys remembered that.”

“Of course. It’s not every day you come across such a beautiful southern belle up here.”

“Oh, hush, Patrick Kane, you’re gonna make me blush madder than a school girl,” she giggled, playfully swatting at one of his thick biceps peeking out from underneath the sleeve of a tight v-neck shirt with some kind of indian logo on it. He flashed her another dazzling smile, but just as he was about to pay her another compliment, he was being jerked away from her.

Patrick stumbled a few steps back, knowing without even looking that it was his captain dragging him away.
“I’ll see you soon, gorgeous!” he called to her, stifling a laugh at the growl that met his ears. “Lighten the fuck up, Tazer. I told you, if you didn’t want her then I did. You made no move. Fair game.”

“And what did I tell you?” he quickly retorted, letting go of Patrick’s arm with a shove. “She’s not just some piece of ass.”

There were howls of laughter that met the two upon nearing the large table; Patrick wearing a smug, proud smile while Jonathan donned a rather agitated scowl. Jon took the only free seat at the farthest end of the table, while Kane returned to his place between Shaw and Hossa.

A few moments later, Roxie reappeared with two trays filled with various beers and a couple waters. He watched her flit from player to player, handing them the exact beverage they had ordered without even the slightest mix up. Sharpy gently caught her wrist as she turned to go, and the look of terror that flashed through her face did not go unnoticed by Jonathan. She expertly masked it within seconds before she bent down to allow Sharp to whisper something in her ear.

Jon shifted uncomfortably in his seat, willing the steadily growing anger to die down as Roxie's face quickly flushed and she giggled a bit. Sharpy grinned, clasping her hand in both of his and continuing to murmur in her ear. His eyes flicked to Jonathan's, and he winked.

He had expected something like that from one of the younger players, but not Sharp. He was married. Yes, Roxie was beautiful, but he didn’t expect shameless flirting from the older player as well. Granted, it was most likely just to aggrivate Jon, but still. He figured the rest of the team was doing that well enough without Sharpys help, too. But his thoughts were quickly quelled and replaced with embarrassment as she sauntered over to him, a tiny smirk playing on her glossed lips. Jonathan could only gaze up at her with wide eyes and a thudding heart.

“Can I getcha anything, sweet cheeks?” she drawled, and for a moment Jon couldn’t even remember his own name. He simply stared, lost in her sweet voice and twinkling eyes that still shone, even in the dimly lit room.

“Uh—“
“He need some liquid courage, think you can hook ‘em up, Rox?” chuckled Marian Hossa, and to Jonathans relief Roxie simply rolled her eyes.

“Just a water, please. If you don’t mind,” sighed Jonathan, wishing his team would give up this little game. “That’s all.”

“Sure thang. You sure you don’t want anything else? Drinks are on the house tonight, hun.”

Apparently she hadn’t told the other guys that, and upon hearing those words, several loud ‘To Roxie’ cheers rose from the table. The duo broke their eye contact to scan across the table. Roxie, with a small grin, while Jonathan held a more serious demeanor still.
Their eyes gravitated back to the other a few short moments later, and she smiled encouragingly.

“I’m sure. Thank you, though,” he said softly, almost regretfully watching her leave to grab his water.

“Toews, what the fuck is your problem, man?” laughed Ben Smith, from his place to Jonathans right.
“Yeah, aren’t you supposed to be our fearless leader or some bullshit like that?” chimed in Duncan Keith, shaking his head with a smirk.

“He’s just pissed because I was talking to her earlier,” jeered Kaner, and if it wasn’t for Roxie’s return, Jonathan wasn’t sure he could have kept his mouth shut or his fist at his side.

“Food’s on it’s way, y’all,” she smiled, pocketing her little notebook. “Anything I can do for you in the meantime?”

“Hey- uh, when do you get off?” asked Sharp, twisting around in his seat to look at her.

“Soon as I get you boys taken care of.”

“You should stay and have a drink or two with us, maybe watch some games,” offered Kane, flashing his usual charming smile.

“I’d love to, honey, but I really don’t wanna be here any longer than I have to.”

“That’s fine—we can go to a different bar,” offered Sharp, and his gaze shifted to Jonathan. Jon knew what that meant; he was expected to put the last bit of pleading on, seal the deal. He was more than willing to comply if it meant seeing her a little longer.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them under control,” said Jonathan, and her gaze flickered back to his for a moment. He mustered a bit of extra courage, and offered her a small smirk. The smirk he’d seen overturn countless women and teens before. The same smirk that every photographer he came in contact with begged for. He could practically see the gears turning in her mind, the debate slowly working its way to their favor. “Please?”

That seemed to have done the trick, and she looked away with a feint pink ghosting on her golden cheeks.
“I’ll let y’all know when I’m off the clock and we’ll go from there. How’s that sound?”

Cheers rose from around the table, and when she stole one last glance at Jonathan before leaving he raised his glass of water and dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment. Then, she was gone.