Sun & Moon

Hockey was a quick game. Catalina found herself bolting from her seat to cheer as much as she groaned and rolled her eyes. She mostly followed Erin’s leave, waiting for her roommate to make sounds of happiness or unhappiness depending on the call and the play. But at the same time, Catalina noticed that her instincts were- like Erin said- better than she thought.

Occasionally through the second period, Catalina had to take a phone call or answer an email. Even when she was out enjoying herself, she was on the clock. Part of the reason Catalina was paid so much was because of the requirement to always be ready to be on the job. The other part was just that she was disgustingly good at her job and that she had an impressive media list to help.

Time was winding down in the third and Chicago was up by two points against the LA kings and Catalina found herself scrunching her nose with players being slammed into the boards. LA was a large team and she watched while chewing her lip as they continued to slam an array of Blackhawks into the glass, their frustration obvious.

Sipping her third beer, Catalina leaned forward as she watched a Kings player tear down the ice. She felt her nerves spike, not wanting him to score a goal. He missed, which brought a sigh of relief to Catalina’s lips. But she found herself leaning forward and digging her nails into the arm rests as the player shoved Corey Crawford in the net.

Everyone in the stadium jumped up, Erin getting to her feet and screaming that it was dirty to touch the goalie. Catalina watched as Jonathan grabbed the player, pulling him away from Corey who was now exchanging several words with him. The player proceeded to shove Jonathan backwards, making Erin yell something obscene and dig her nails into Catalina’s shoulder.

Catalina was the only one sitting down in the stadium until she saw the jersey with the distinct repetition of eight on the back, shoving in between Jonathan and the Kings player. She stood up then, scrunching up her face and blurting, “Patrick is like half that guys size, what is he going to do? Hit him in the knee caps?”

“He’s defending his captain!”

No blows were exchanged, though. A referee pulled a mouthing-off Patrick away. The entire stadium was roaring so that Catalina had to yell over the sound. “Who the hell is going to defend him? He isn’t that tall.”

“Give him some credit. He plays hockey, he has to be a tough ass. Plus, he’s probably ripped underneath that jersey.”

Catalina made a sound. She was sure that he was. She had seen his arms but she had zero doubt that the rest of Patrick’s body was just as impressive. Sitting down, she raised a single eyebrow. “Just an observation.”

“Over protective.”

“Hardly. Can you explain why touching a goalie is such a no-no?”

The rest of the game, Erin continued to provide Catalina with feedback. When it was over, Catalina stood and filed towards the concourse. People were in swarms of different Chicago colors. Catalina also took the time to lead Erin to the offices, swiping her key cards to get in and take the elevator up. Both of them were killing time, waiting for the parking lot to empty before heading somewhere for drinks.

Everything on the office floor was dark. Catalina hit a light as she led her roommate down the winding corridors before getting to hers, shoving in a key and opening it to turn on her own lights. Erin stepped in, taking in the large Blackhawk decorations as well as Catalina’s personal touches like countless pictures with Miami Dolphins players and signed pictures and footballs. Her degree was on display as well as multiple accreditations and awards given in the public relations field.

On her desk, gold cups carried her pens and a clear stapler sat neatly. Everything on the desk was straight and orderly. The files that were visible behind the desk were also extremely straight, the labels printed clear in large font. Erin made a sound and Catalina knew she was amused with Catalina’s orderliness. There were only a few things in the world that Catalina was obsessive compulsive about, and her office was one of them.

“It’s very you,” Erin said off-handedly, walking up to the large filing cabinet and looking at the picture of them hugging one another in graduation gowns. Erin’s cap had just fallen off and her eyes were closed as she was laughing. Catalina was holding on to hers to keep it from falling and her nose was scrunched, head tilted back mid-laughter. “This is one of my favorite pictures.”

“I look like a dork.”

“Hence why it is my favorite picture.”

“Jerk.” Catalina checked her watch. “Where exactly did you want to go out? I’m sure what’s his name had something in mind but I want to pick.”

Erin seemed to think about it, turning around and crossing her arms as she clicked her teeth together a few times as a mindless habit. “I feel like going to the Lincoln Tap Room.”

“Whatever the hell that is.”

Erin grinned. “They have beer and whiskey, what else do you need?”

“A man that can satisfy my hunger for rough sex and demand for control.”

“Well, I mean-"

Catalina pointed at her with a glare. Erin shut her mouth and held up her hands. “I meant no when I said no, Erin.”

“Fine, I won’t bring it up. He’s just a very attractive guy and I figured.”

Catalina shook her head. “He’s gorgeous. Like seriously hot, and I would love to make him weak in the knees, however his little smirk and the way he talks makes me think that has ‘bad’ written all over it.” Catalina walked to her office phone and picked it up. “Although, maybe I will have sex with him just to see what it’s like. Undecided.”

“You’re despicable. And confusing.”

“Yes, yes I am.” She dialed a number and waited, one hand on her hip and the other holding the phone up to her ear. “I swear he waits like five rings before-"

“Do you always use your office phones for phone calls?” His rough voice sounded tired and out of breath. She imagined that he was probably pulling on a change of clothes after a shower. “Or is it just me?”

Ignoring the question, she said, “Lincoln Tap Room whenever you’re dressed.”

“You sure you want me dressed?”

“No, I’m not sure but I think everyone else is.” He chuckled on the other end of the line. “Are you going to be there or what?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there.”

“Good.” Without saying goodbye, Catalina hung up the phone. Erin was watching her with a peculiar expression before rolling her eyes and holding up her hands, like she had something to say but she wasn’t going to say it. “None of that, now.”

☾☾☾

When he walked in, Patrick spotted the two girls easily. It wasn’t actually Catalina who had first caught his attention. It was the girl next to her, who was exactly like Jonathan had described her. She looked comfortable in the bar, sitting on a stool with a thin red straw pulled between her lips. She had dark hair that seemed like a unique pairing with dark green eyes that stood out even from the entrance of the bar. There was something soft and classic about her beauty, especially when she was dressed in a blazer with a shirt that showed a soft strip of her stomach.

Erin was beautiful. Patrick covered a laugh with a cough as he glanced sideways at Jonathan. He knew instantly that his best friend was going to be a goner. Not only was Catalina’s friend a dead-ringer for the word ‘gorgeous’ but even from across the room, her need to be dominated was potent. Patrick took control of enough women in the bedroom to know when a girl liked to be thrown onto a mattress and have her mind blown. From the way Erin smiled tentatively or laughed softly as the two men approached without their notice, Patrick knew that Jonathan had read into that too.

After analyzing Erin, Patrick’s blue eyes swept to Catalina. As usual, she was not exuding the aura of a girl who wanted a man to touch the small of her back or bring his hand across her ass. She looked ready to shove someone into a wall and dig her nails into them, possibly shoving them to their knees. She was dressed in tight, black pants that made her back end look heavenly, and a grey shirt that was longer in the back. He could tell when she turned around, as if sensing them and her tan stomach was visible above the silver button of her jeans.

Patrick couldn’t remember Catalina ever wearing a crop top before, but his eyes almost instantly went to the skin visible. Her stomach was tan and flat, but flat in the way that muscles look when they’re worked on a regular basis. This made sense to him; her arms looked like they were kissed by the sun and shaped by Athena herself.

Sliding from the stool languidly, Catalina stood several inches shorter than both Jonathan and Patrick. Her green eyes were glowing like a cat’s- ironically enough- as a smug smile appeared on her lips. Behind her Erin smiled, her lips looking extremely angelic when in comparison to Catalina’s twisted grin. “Kane, this is my roommate Erin- you know who he is.”

Patrick stuck his hand out and shook Erin’s lightly. “Pleasure to meet you, Erin. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure, Catalina is half in love with me,” the girl joked easily.

Patrick’s grin spread larger. “Not who I meant.” His eyes slid to Jonathan, making Erin’s lips pop open in the shape of an ‘o’ before looking at Jonathan. If Jonathan felt deterred or embarrassed by Patrick’s teasing, he didn’t show it as he smiled lazily at her. “Though I find it hard to believe Catalina is in love with anyone.”

Erin was hardly listening to what Patrick was saying as Jonathan stepped to her side, brushing a hand near hers as he leaned on the bar and flagged down the bartender. Patrick was left with Catalina hopping up on the stool, leaning back on the bar and saying, “You clearly haven’t met Benny.”

The name hit Patrick’s ego for a moment before he narrowed his eyes. “I’m unaware of this name.”

“He’s only the cutest and the best boy in the entire world.”

“Is that so?” He slipped in next to Catalina, leaving her and Erin pressed together. He ordered a beer- the same thing Catalina was drinking- and watched her. She smelled amazing; somewhere between like lemons and something he couldn’t quite place. It was different than the usual smell he smelled on other girls. “Do explain how beautiful this ‘Benny’ is. Does he have eyes as blue as the Caspian Sea?”

“No, they are dark and warm, like when you come home from a long day of work. And he’s sweet- like you would not believe. Loves giving kisses, always following me around to make sure I know he loves me.”

Patrick thought this strange. He didn’t peg Catalina as the type. Just as he was about to mention this, she started laughing. It was the kind of laugh that made him frown because he knew that the reason was something in spite of him. He wasn’t in on the joke, but as her head tilted back, exposing the hollow of her throat, Patrick knew Catalina was definitely having a joke at his expense.

“I like to laugh too, you know.”

“You should have seen your face?”

“I do quite often, actually.” Patrick took the beer from the bartender. “I like to assure myself in the mirror that these baby blues are still stone cold killers.” He took a swig, batting his eyelashes to make a point. Catalina wasn’t fooled- he knew she wouldn’t be. “But I’m sure I wasn’t making a face.”

“You were. You were narrowing your eyes at me and your lip twitches on the left whenever you’re irritated. You did it when you came into my office that first day of our meeting.” She drank some of her beer. Patrick was particularly interested in the way her lips fit around the bottom, making him twitch slightly. She looked him right in the eye and his thoughts were confirmed. Catalina knew exactly what her mouth looked like around the top of a beer bottle. “Benny is my dog, by the way.”

Catalina-1, Patrick-0, he thought to himself. Patrick specifically remembered that she was good at hiding expressions. She was supposed to be; it was something people in public relations new how to do. When he had figured out who she was, Patrick couldn’t help but look up what exactly her job entailed. It meant she graduated with a major in communications, no doubt meaning she had taken a class that discussed body language and how to read it. Catalina seemed expert in that, thus far.

“I was really just beginning to fall in love with this Benny guy, too.”

“Bestiality will get you.”

“I like blue eyes anyways.”

“I hope you don’t mean your own?”

Patrick shrugged a shoulder. “You can never be sure about those things.”

A silence fell between them and Patrick took the time to take his eyes off of her and look around the bar. It was full with people and the chatter was loud. People glanced their way and he tried to pay it no mind. The Lincoln Tap Room was a place that some of the Blackhawks frequented and the bartenders were extremely adamant about customers giving the players their space when they were in attendance.

When Patrick had done a full circuit of the room, he looked back down to Catalina to find her watching him. He smiled at her, hoping to catch her off guard. But he didn’t. She just smiled back, completely unashamed that she had been staring at him. Patrick realized that this was because she genuinely did not see him as a threat and because he simply did not make her nervous. Part of him felt crestfallen while the other half had already accepted that bedding Catalina Suarez wasn’t something he needed.

“Congratulations on the win, by the way.” She finished her beer and slid it forward. As a bartender passed, they picked it up. Patrick called after them to put her next round on his tab. They nodded and kept walking. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” In the crowd, they were close. His hip was pressed against her thigh and though they were both in jeans, he imagined her leg was smooth. “Enjoy your first hockey game?”

“Oh you weren’t my first.” Patrick was wondering if Catalina practiced double entendres in the mirror before she left the house in the morning. “Sorry to disappoint I’ve already got some field experience.”

“Still, watching us has to be an experience, right?”

“Especially when you put yourself in front of a guy who is about double your size in the third, by the way.”

It wasn’t much, but Patrick latched onto it. “Worried for your dear double-eight? How unlike you, Cat.”

“Of course I was worried.” He paused. “Do you think I want to deal with the work on that if you get stepped on by the Hulk in the middle of a game? Can you run me through that thought process, Mike Tyson?”

“I’m almost offended that you think I couldn’t handle myself.” And he was sort of offended. He tried not to wince in front of her, but a beautiful girl that he was starting to consider a friend was essentially telling him that he was going to lose that fight just because he was a few inches shorter. It took everything not to shoot an irritated comment, though Patrick was aware Catalina could take an irritated comment. “Really, you wound me.”

Hopping off the stool suddenly, Catalina stood directly in front of him. She came up to his chest without heels on. If he tried, he could tuck her head under his chin. “Show me how you would execute a left hook.”

“You know I’m left handed?”

“You shot left handed.” She gestured to his hands. “Just slowly show me the follow through.”

Still unsure of why she was asking him to do it, Patrick shrugged, setting down his beer. He did what she asked and raised his hand, slowly going through the arching motion like she requested him. He lightly tapped her playfully on the chin when he finished, smiling at her, though he got the feeling she wasn’t really watching his face as much as her eyes were calculating the movement.

When he dropped his hands, Catalina shook her head. Without warning, she bent and grabbed his leg, startling him to how close she was to his crotch. She pulled it forward and straightened, turning his hips and raising his arm again. Her touch was like fire against his skin, body reacting to her touch but mind shying away from it. Everything about her body touching his made Patrick react, but mentally he didn’t want to go there, not with the way she acted, like nothing ever bothered her.

“Always shift weight here.” She pressed her fingers into his lead leg. He did. “It allows you to pivot and gain power when you punch forward. Always aim for the jaw. If you put your weight here and you pivot and you hit the jaw, it’s a guaranteed knockout.”

Dropping his hands, Patrick stared at her. A tiny girl who worked public relations, who sometimes had an accent, and who acted like she was emotionally dead inside had just walked him through an accurate execution for a punch. And she had done it without missing a beat, sitting back on the stool when she was done and drinking her beer.

Who the fuck was Catalina Suarez?

Patrick didn’t get to ask. In that moment, Erin spun on her chair, annoyance on her face. Patrick wondered how she had gone from laughing in the dull background of Patrick’s mind to huffing and flustered. “Catalina, tell Jonathan that the Rangers are way better than the Winnipeg Jets.”

“Oh boy,” Catalina said under her breath to Patrick before turning to angle herself in Erin’s direction, though not completely away from Patrick. Catalina looked at Jonathan who, in turn, was looking at Patrick for help. “Jonathan, dear, dear Jonathan. Rangers are way better than the Winnipeg Jets. Did I get the script correct?”

Erin made a face at her. “He’s trying to tell me- he’s totally wrong- that they are better.”

Patrick sipped his beer, finishing it. “Wow, Johnny. Talking about hockey? Big shocker there.”

“She brought it up.”

Erin huffed in Patrick’s direction and he was reminded distinctly of his childhood rabbit stomping it’s foot and grunting at him when it didn’t want to go back in it’s cage. “Girls like hockey too, Patrick Kane. So what if I brought it up?”

“Yeah!” Jonathan called behind her. “Girls like hockey too, Kaner!”

“Oh you hush,” Erin said over her shoulder, tone playful. “You’re just trying to makeup for the horrible taste in hockey teams.”

“Catalina is getting bored,” Catalina said loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose. Patrick realized that despite her earlier statement about having been to hockey games before, it didn’t exactly mean that she was educated in the sport. He was slightly interested in teaching her, though he doubted she was willing to learn anything from anyone but herself.

“Does Catalina always speak in third person?” Jonathan asked.

“She does when she wants to change scenery,” Catalina quipped. “I want chicken nuggets. Does anyone else?”

“Chicken nuggets?” It seemed like something so random that Patrick couldn’t wrap his mind around it. “Of all the things in the world?”

She batted her eyelashes innocently at him. “Well it was originally whipped cream but I haven’t found something to pair it with tonight.” She grinned at him.

Catalina turned to pay her tab and Patrick stared at the back of her head, wondering how many more sexual innuendos his body could physically take.