Centuries

Keziah let out a breathy moan. A pair of masculine hands ran up her sides distracting her from the pair of lips touching her neck. Her legs straddled the lap of the blonde hockey player and her own fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck. Pulling his head away from her body she leaned forward to mold their lips together, their tongues battling for dominance. His fingers ran down her chest teasingly until settling on her breasts. Through her tank-top she could feel him tracing the valley until his thumbs brushed over her nipples. Her hips ground into his making both of them moan deep in their throats.

Throwing her head back Keziah flipped her hair over her shoulder, eyes smoldering, and nearly screamed out. “Jon!”

“Wrong name babe,” Patrick purred. Keziah instantly jumped out of his lap and straightened her clothes, her hands patting down her hair in embarrassment. Patrick craned his neck and let out a groan falling face first into the pillows of the couch.

“Keziah,” Jon greeted firmly. “Kane.”

“What brings you home so early?” Keziah waltzed around the couch awkwardly.

“A shower and nap.” His eyes roamed over her before turning to his best friend. “If by chance this goes any further than the couch would you at least keep it down?” His footsteps were heavy as he headed for his bedroom, hand running over his hair multiple times as he sighed. Keziah waited until the door shut and the locked clicked in place before speaking again.

“He really is Captain Serious.” Patrick barked out a laugh that he muffled with the back of his hand. Opening his arm he caught her body as she plopped back down on his lap, this time facing the television he had just flipped on. Sports Center was featuring a bio on a baseball player Keziah had never heard of, her interest already lost. Patrick wiggled in the cushions for a few seconds before he was comfortable. He pulled her closer to his body and rested his cheek against the crown of her head. “Pat?”

“Yeah.” She walked her fingers up his side feeling the muscles move as he breathed.

“In the three weeks we’ve been, whatever we are, I’ve never once seen Jon smile.” Keziah’s head bounced from Patrick laughing. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are. That’s why it’s so funny.”

“Why doesn’t he go out or have a girlfriend?” Keziah couldn’t help her curiosity as it nagged her. She could feel Patrick tense up and she snaked her arm around his torso. Pressing her face into the crook of his shoulder she closed her eyes.

“One thing you need to know about Jonny is that he doesn’t make time for those other things. When the season is in swing he’s all hockey and nothing else. When we play bad, he works us hard. When we play good, he works us harder. That’s what makes him so good. We might bump heads about relationship crap but at the end of the day he knows what he is doing. And most of the time it makes us a better team.” Patrick moved some of Keziah’s hair out of her face and smiled down at her.

“It’s just,” she bit her bottom lip and let out a breath through her nose, “I feel like he secludes himself. He’s anti-social unless a camera is in his face and that isn’t healthy. He needs interaction.”

“As nice as it is to have you care about him I doubt there is any way you can get him to change up his routine of eat, sleep, and drink hockey.” He kissed her softly on the top of her head.

“What if we set him up?” Keziah suddenly sat up with a new brightness in her eyes. Patrick gave her a skeptical look that she clapped her hands to. “What if we go on a double date!”

“Unless that date is a hockey stick,” Patrick trailed off. Keziah slapped him on the arm and got to her feet. “Seriously Kezzie, I don’t think it’ll happen.”

“Kezzie?” She tilted her head. Patrick could feel the burn of his cheeks as they turned red. “Does this mean I can call you Patty?”

“Not in your lifetime.” He reached for her but she dodged his grasp.

“Patty Cakes.”

“Like I’ve never heard that before,” he grumbled. Crossing his arms he sat back in the couch and watched the girl in front of him pace.

“You guys don’t have a game tomorrow night and you’re not traveling,” Keziah mentally made a check list as she moved. “We can’t go somewhere too open but nothing too closed off.”

“We won’t be going anywhere. There is no way Jon will agree to it.” He rested his arms on his legs and gazed at the strawberry blonde.

“She doesn’t like crowded places and I would prefer something with pasta.” She tapped her fingers against her chin.

“Who is this she?” Patrick already knew what her answer was going to be but wanted to hear it for himself.

“I don’t know anybody else that’s single and needs to get out more than Jonathan other than Winnie.” Grabbing her hair she absently began to braid it, the ends unwinding as soon as she let them go. “Just don’t tell her I said that.”

“Winnie’s cute,” Patrick watched Keziah’s eyes narrow, “not my type, but cute.” She was still glaring as he stood. “I’ll do my best to convince Jon to go on this thing. Make reservations for Fogo de Chao, they have a killer dinner buffet. Whoever answers, ask for Margo, tell her Patrick says green beans and they’ll book a section off for us.”

“Green beans?” Keziah folded her arms up against Patrick’s chest, his embrace warm.

“We all have code phrases.” He shrugged.

“Isn’t this place like a meat buffet?” Keziah remembered reading about it in a magazine at work the other day.

“They have one of the best salad bars around. If you’re not feeling meat,” he playfully thrust his hips into hers, “then you can have your noodles and soups.” Keziah snaked her hands up his front and tugged gently on his curls.

“I’m always in the mood for some meat.” Pecking his lips she spun them around. “And Winnie won’t be home for at least another hour.”

“Well then my lady,” Patrick bowed to her with a grin, “lead the way to your chambers.” He winked. “Don’t want to wake the dragon.”


Winnie pulled at the hem of her shirt for the hundredth time, her back tensing as she sat up straighter in the chair. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail with the ends curled. Her hazel eyes glanced to the man occupying the chair on her right and inwardly she groaned. His face was rigid even as he cut into the filet on his plate. Grabbing her fork she twirled the noodles of a random salad on the utensil and took a bite. She had come home from the office in enough time for Keziah to usher her right back out the door. Her slate grey pants hugged her thighs annoyingly and her top was partially covered by the cardigan she had managed to grab.

“So,” Keziah’s voice broke through the silence of the table. “How was work?”

“Fine.” Winnie took a drink from her glass of water. “You?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Keeping everyone clean and in check.” Keziah glanced to Patrick as he took a large bite of chicken. His blue eyes met hers and she spoke silently to the boy.

“How about you?” Winnie turned to Jonathan who stopped mid-chew. His fingers gripped the fork and knife tightly as he swallowed. “How was your day?”

“Satisfyingly uneventful.” He cut another piece of the filet. “Like this dinner.”

“Nobody forced you to be here.” Winnie gave him a grin before raising another forkful to her mouth. “Feel free to leave at any time.”

“Let’s not be brash,” Keziah interjected quickly. “We just got started.” Winnie watched Patrick suddenly jump and wince in pain.

“I agree,” he strained, “just let it play out.”

The remainder of dinner was silent. Winnie ignored the conversation Patrick and Jon had while Jon did the same when Keziah spoke to her. Patrick had only convinced Jon to attend because he promised to pay for the meal, something he rarely did, and now was regretting. Neither brunette shared looks other than distaste. Winnie sat back in her chair once the plates had been cleared and let out a deep breath. Jon put the napkin from his lap onto the table and leaned on his elbows.

“Winnifred,” his tone had Winnie rolling her eyes. “That’s quite a unique name.”

“Just as Jonathan is plain,” she quipped. Keziah rested her head on Patrick’s shoulder with her eyes shut.

“What do you do for fun? Write up contracts? Count envelopes?”

“Oh yes it’s so fascinating. What is it you do again? Skate in circles chasing a black pancake?” Winnie smirked at him when he scowled.

“It takes more than just skating to play hockey.”

“I forgot. You have to have contracts and money to play, that’s right.” Winnie snapped her fingers. “Is that why the others don’t play as much? Because you literally shit out dollar bills at the end of the night regardless of how terrible you perform?” She watched Jon’s eyes light up in anger.

“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.” His jaw tensed. “What I do is bigger than any stupid occupation your name occupies.”

“Ouch, that cut deep.” She pouted and put her hand to her heart. “I don’t know if I can go on.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I do nightly, and it’s wonderful.”

Patrick and Keziah watched Jon shove his chair back and march toward the exit. Winnie grabbed the clutch between her feet and stood. “Great night.” Her sarcasm was heard clearly, her figure disappearing into the night outside the restaurant.

“Well,” Keziah smacked her lips, “that was eventful.”

“You can say that again.”