Looking Up

Three hours in and Jon was over it. He had made small talk with dozens of people, and had danced with another half a dozen masked women. He was leaning against the bar, waiting for a drink, one eye on Patrick who stood in the middle of three women, laughing and waving his arms wildly as he told them some story. He scanned the crowd for Lennon, who although he had come as her pseudo date, had not seen much of her in the last two hours as she flitted around the room. Now he spotted her slow dancing with Dan to some song he did not know that the band played. Knowing she was safe and not at the mercy of some guy he didn’t know and trust, he turned his attention to the rest of the room.

He was used to checking out a woman’s body but not being able to see her face was something else altogether. Which meant he had to talk to them. That wasn’t really his thing. Get in, get out. Quick, no strings, names were not important. That was the game Jon was used to. He had given up the idea of finding a girl to take home for the night and was contemplating which of two girls he knew would be game if he called them up instead when he saw her.

A nude colored lace bodice, filled with perfect breasts, gave way to a billowy yellow skirt that when she moved gave him a glimpse every time of perfect, tanned and toned legs. Her mask was white, covered in crystals from each side to the corner of the eye. As she got closer to the bar, he noticed the sexiest detail of her mask: spikes. A small cluster of five spikes on each side, giving the simple mask a touch of dangerous and naughty to go with its sexy and playful.

And just like that, he was hooked. By a mask.

When she reached the bar, he smiled at her but she either ignored him or didn’t notice. She ordered a martini, the signature cocktail of the night and waited for the bartender to fix it. Jon stepped closer to her, their arms brushing. “Hi,” he smiled again.

“Hello.”

He noticed her green eyes, drawn to the brightness of them that contrasted her white mask. He held his hand out to her. “I’m-”

She interrupted him quickly. “It’s a masquerade. No names.”

“Oh. That’s like a rule then?”

“I think it’s an unwritten kind of thing.”

“Makes sense,” he shrugged. “What can we talk about then?” he asked as he slid a hand down her exposed arm and settled it at her waist, drawing her closer to him. “I could tell you how fucking hot you look in that dress, or how amazing your tits are. I could tell you how I’ve done nothing but imagine those legs wrapped around me since I saw you walking towards me two minutes ago.” He dipped his face closer to her, kissing her neck. “Or we could skip the talking, get a room,” he suggested with a smirk.

She stepped away from him, snatching her drink and walking away. She found a table and sat down, hoping the stranger behind the mask would take the hint. She would not be so lucky as he strode towards her. She noticed that his tuxedo was expensive looking and fit him to perfection although she was not entirely sure how it hadn’t split over his incredible thighs. She couldn’t help but notice them as he came over with confidence and sex appeal dripping off of him.

He took the seat beside her with a predatory smile. The slit of her dress exposed one leg from ankle to just above her knee. “I love a good game of chase,” he whispered as he leaned in close to her, his hand skimming up her exposed leg and settling on her thigh just under the soft fabric of her dress. He stared into her eyes behind the mask as he let his fingers graze lightly upwards still.

He enjoyed the sight of her eyes widening as the tips of his fingers brushed her inner thigh. “Beautiful,” he muttered as he leaned in to kiss her.

She froze in surprise, too shocked to process everything that was happening. His kiss was demanding, and without realizing it, she was giving him everything he wanted. She pulled away abruptly, that smirk still sitting smugly across his face. She grabbed her drink and dumped the contents into his lap.

Jon stood, pushing away from the table and his chair crashing to the ground. “What the hell?” he demanded, wiping at the front of his pants.

“You looked like you needed to cool off,” she answered with a cold smile. “Good night.”

“Bitch,” Jon muttered before she was out of earshot. She chose to ignore the comment and walked away, heading for the valet. She untied her mask as she waited for her car to be brought around. It was the strangest encounter of her life with the arrogant man behind the mask. She hoped never to run into him again.



Lennon slid into the booth at the Palace Grill across from Jon the following afternoon with a cheery smile. “Hello, Johnny Toes.”

“Why are you so damn cheerful?”

“Because unlike a certain hockey stud I know, I did not drink myself into a stupor and I went home at a reasonable enough hour. How late exactly were you and Pat out until?”

He scowled. “It wasn’t that late.”

“Oh really? Because Dan made sure I got home since you bailed in a cab without a word and then called up Patty up to join you and that was at twelve thirty."

Jon raised an eyebrow. “Dan took you home?”

Lennon rolled her eyes. “Dan had the driver take me home first and walked me up to my place and then he went home.”

“You have a doorman."

"And like a good, polite Canadian boy, he still insisted on riding the elevator with me and walking me to my door, much like I know you would have also."

"And that's it?" He asked suspiciously.

"Yes, Jonathan, that's it."

"I saw you dancing with him. It looked cozy.”

“I danced with you too, and even Pat until he tried to grab my ass.”

“You had this dreamy stare on your face when you were dancing with Dan.”

“I did not!” she protested. “It’s Dan; you know it’s not like that.”

“You looked happy.”

“He sings when we dance,” she shrugged.

“He sings? Carbomb sings?”

“Sometimes, when I ask nicely.”

He shook his head. He couldn't think of two better matched people to have a relationship than Lennon and Dan, yet neither of them seemed to see it. Lennon had never in the years he had known her expressed a romantic interest in any of his teammates or friends, which he loved because he knew her friendship was genuine, and about him, and not getting into someone else's pants. And Dan loved Lennon, sure, but as a friend. Jon knew because he had made sure Dan had good intentions the summer after Dan's first season on the team. He and Pat shipped out of town quickly but Dan stayed a few extra weeks and Jon left him in charge to keep an eye on Lennon. Dan had sworn to watch over her as if she were his sister.

He picked up his menu and studied it for a second. “What are you getting?”

“The same thing I always do, just like you are. Don’t change the subject. What time did you go home, Johnny?”

“Four.”

“And did you bring home a friend?”

“Yes.”

“Slut.”

“No, but I’m pretty sure she was though.”

Lennon rolled her eyes at him again as the waitress approached and took their order. When she was gone, Lennon turned to him expectantly.

“What?”

“Why did you disappear last night?”

“I didn’t disappear,” Jon answered.

“You left without telling me.”

“I didn’t know I had to tell you.”

“You were my date, dumb ass.”

“Fake date.”

“Fake date, real date, it doesn’t matter. I’m your friend and the polite thing to do would have been to tell me you were leaving. You would have chewed me out if I had disappeared on you and I was panicking until you called Pat.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was leaving. That was very rude of me.”

“Now tell me about the girl I saw you talking to right before you disappeared.”

“Nothing to tell.”

“Liar.”

“I don’t know her name, she doesn’t know mine, she wasn’t interested. Which I don’t know why. I’m Jonathan fucking Toews.”

“You were an asshole to her, weren’t you?”

“No.”

“Jon, I love you, and as your friend, you have this asshole thing you do when you’re way too confident and way too much of a prick. You did it to me the night we met. Lucky for you I looked past that and decided you were actually a nice dude. But you were a prick to her, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” he grumbled.

“And?”

“She dumped a drink in my lap.”

Lennon snorted before she started laughing loudly. Jon kicked her in the shin under the table. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But it’s funny. I love when you get rejected; tell me what happened.”

“I hit on her and she didn’t like it.”

“You hit on her how? Like you told her her eyes were the color of cornflowers and blah, blah, blah, or you told her she had perfect tits?”

“First of all, her eyes were green," he answered. Lennon raised an eyebrow at his immediate recall of such a detail. The truth was he hadn't seen anything but those eyes in his dreams the night before. "And the second one."

“Johnny Toes,” she sighed. “Why? We have talked about this. You don’t tell girls how you want to fuck them; you woo them.”

“That takes time, Len.”

“Any girl worth having takes time you dope. Jesus; why did they make you captain again?”

“Because I’m hot.”

“You are a jack ass.”

“A hot jack ass.”

“Still a jack ass.”