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That evening, Daisy led the way into the old warehouse turned club that was the home for Delilah's troupe. They were led to several tables reserved for their group and a waitress came by to get a drink order for them, returning several minutes later with an assortment of beers for the guys and martinis for the girls in the group. Daisy had been careful about who to invite and had brought along her two closest friends on the team, Pekka Rinne and Rich Clune, and then extended the invitation to James, because Rich was close to him and Daisy liked him.

There was something about James that drew Daisy in. She expected a cocky, self assured man when she first met him, but had been struck by his quiet confidence instead. He didn't live up to the stories the Internet held; he was above them, better. Daisy knew someone had taken him from boy to man, wasn't sure what the story was, but just knew. She wanted to see him succeed, selfishly for the team of course, but for him also. Because she knew it meant something to him to succeed for himself.

Plus James and Rich together was just plain comedy gold.

Viktor Stalberg, Colin Wilson, and Eric Nystrom came with them also. Colin and Eric each brought with them the girls they were seeing, girls Daisy had spent time around and knew would be laid back and cool about the show that night. And she told them ahead of time what was going on and they were excited to go.

Pekka looked around, sipping his beer and turned to Daisy. "What is this place?" He asked.

"You'll see," she replied.

“Come on, Daisy.”

“Just wait for it, Peks. I promise it’s worth it.”

"So your friend Delilah works here?" Rich asked.

"I wouldn't call it work. This is something Lilah is very passionate about. Her work is at her dance studio. This is what she loves. It's her art."

Soon after, the emcee for the evening stepped on stage, welcoming them for the night and loosening up the crowd. “I know you didn't come here for me so why don’t we give you what you came here for.” The crowd cheered loudly and Daisy whistled. “Ladies and gentleman, Miss Dahlia Rose!”

From behind the velvet curtain, a leg appeared, covered in a stocking, foot in a gold heel. The first thing James noticed was the black filigree work and flowers outlined in array of colors, but not filled in, that started on her foot, wrapped around her ankle, up her calf and disappearing somewhere he could not yet see. He had never once been as turned on by a tattoo in his life as he was in that moment but wanted to trace the entire thing and see where those damn flowers disappeared to when Delilah stepped into view, a long slinky gold dress, slit up the thigh where the flowers disappeared. He shot Daisy a look and she only grinned with mischief.

Delilah had long ago embraced the world of burlesque, the lost art of the tease, the seduction, and she loved it. She became lost in the dance, the slow pull of her gloves from each arm, of the skirt from her body, revealing her corset and gold sequin covered shorts just barely covering her. With her back to the audience and the ties of her corset loosened, she pulled it away, dropping it to the floor. As she moved, the bra soon followed, leaving her in heels and stockings, the tiny boy shorts, and nipple tassels. They were always a favorite and the crowd cheered as they swirled from her body. As her song ended, her eyes fell on the table of hockey players with Daisy and her eyes met with James over everyone else's. She winked and then turned, sashaying from the stage.

Rich elbowed James as Delilah made her way off stage. “She was hot!” he said as the crowd clapped.

“That’s Delilah,” James hissed back at him. When he had gotten back from lunch, the first thing he had done was tell Rich all about Daisy’s hot friend.

“It is not.”

“It is.”

“Dude! You didn't mention the tattoos.”

The tattoos. The flowers ended mid thigh but the tattoos did not. On her left rib cage was a similar piece of filigree work that disappeared with the outline of a flower under the waist of her panties. On the right side a simple dandelion, some of its seeds floating away. Starting near the small of her back and flying up and across her back were solid black butterflies of varying sizes.

But his favorite was most certainly the two red bows, one in the middle of the back of each thigh. Those made his mouth water. He hadn’t seen any of them at lunch, would have never guess she even had any of them. At lunch she had been covered and not a one of them peaked out. Tonight, she was all woman and curves, her hair falling in waves and moving with a breeze that didn't exist in the club.

Hell, he hadn't expected her to come out and be a burlesque dancer. Delilah was a woman full of surprises and James liked surprises.

“Daisy,” James said sharply to get her attention. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why ruin the surprise?” Daisy shot back.

Delilah changed quickly backstage and moved through the club, dressed in a blue fifties inspired sailor dress with a pencil skirt and belted waist, sailor collar and a double row of buttons. A simple white flower was clipped in her hair, pinning it back on one side. She made her way towards Daisy and her friends.

"Hey!" Delilah said brightly. "Glad you guys could make it," she said warmly.

"You're hot," Viktor Stalberg piped up immediately.

Delilah smiled at him and sat across his lap. Tips helped pay the bills after all and anything to get a few extra bucks in the hat at the end of the night was worth it. "Thank you. I'm Delilah."

"Viktor," he replied, returning her smile.

"Where are you from? You have an accent."

"I'm Swedish."

"Really? Can you say something in your native tongue?"

"Du är en underbar varelse jag skulle vilja ta hem." Delilah murmured something low to him and Viktor laughed, whispering back to her.

James rolled his eyes. "It's not nice to whisper, you know," he grumbled. Daisy snickered.

"I am very sorry, James," Delilah said smoothly. "It's not everyday I meet someone I can converse with in Swedish."

He groaned. "You speak Swedish?"

"I do. Seemed like a good thing to do when I lived there for three years."

"Your tattoos are different," Pekka said. "I'm Pekka by the way and that's Rich," he pointed beside James. "I'd introduce you to the rest of these losers but they're taken and we're not so obviously you've met whose important here."

Delilah laughed. "I'm sure you're all important in your own right."

"Trust me; I'm the most important. They'd be a shit hockey team without me for a goaltender."

"You are full of shit," Shea told him, rolling his eyes. "Obviously we'd be a shit team without me."

"Oh my lord," Daisy muttered. "Would you two idiots shut up? We'd be shit without Rich's je ne sais quoi obviously."

"Thanks doc,” Rich grinned. “I like your tattoos” he said to Delilah. “I have a few too but I think you’ve got more than me. They’re really nice work."

"Thank you. You probably missed this one." She turned on Viktor's lap and lifted her hair. On the back of her neck, in pretty script in the shape of a heart, it read "a dream is a wish your heart makes". James wasn't sure how he missed that at lunch. He was pretty sure it was because he had been dazzled by her smile and witty banter throughout the meal though.

Delilah waited a beat before dropping her hair and pointing to her ear. “And these too,” she explained of the small clusters of stars, each a different color. She held her arms in front of her and then flipped her wrists over. "These are my favorite though." On one was an open birdcage and on the other several birds that were flying away from it. James reached out and ran the pad of his thumb across the birds, which stood out boldly against her olive colored skin. She raised her face to meet his stare.

"That is beautiful," he said softly.

"Thank you. My family hates them but I love them and that's all that matters."

"Which one was your first?" Rich asked.

"These," she replied, indicating her wrists. “Everything else on my arms came after.”

James’ eyes soaked up every inch of the tattoo covered skin. The peacock on her right shoulder whose feathers curled down her forearm. The fruits filling in space on her left arm around a mermaid and an owl. There were names scrolled in some places, people that must be important in her life, and a cupcake and other sweets and candies filling space on her right arm. There was so much to take in and he was sure he wasn't seeing all of it.

“Where are you from Delilah? Your accent is not native Nashville,” Eric spoke up. "I'm Eric, by the way and this is my girlfriend Lisa, and that's Colin and Hannah."

“It's nice to meet you all. And to answer your question, I’m originally from Wisconsin. Madison to be specific.”

“Hey, isn’t that where Smitty’s from?” Colin asked.

“Craig and I are old friends actually,” Delilah told them. “When I moved here last year, he let me move in with him.”

“He’s been hiding you for a year?!” Rich exclaimed. “That mother fucker.”

Delilah laughed. “He wasn’t hiding me. I was busy trying to make my studio a success.”

“We didn’t even know he had a girlfriend though.”

“Craig and I aren’t,” Delilah started before breaking out in laughter. “Craig and I are friends, and much to our mother's dismay, we have never dated.”

“So you’re single,” Viktor said.

“I’m married to my dance studio much like I imagine you guys are married to your hockey during the season.”

“I could divorce that,” he shrugged. Delilah smiled at him and squeezed his arm, leaning into him again to talk close to his ear.

James seethed inside, ready to jump over everyone and start a fight with his new teammate. He saw Delilah first. She was nothing like the girls he normally went for before Tessa, and she definitely seemed to be the opposite of Tessa. Maybe what he was missing was a dark haired, blue eyed girl with tattoos and a secret talent for burlesque.

Because his heart was definitely thumping enough in his chest, and his stomach had turned to butterflies, for his head to know that this was something special.