18 comments/ 66821 views/ 61 favorites Keeping Ice On The Wound By: MugsyB Special thanks of course goes out to my friend PennLady for her help with editing this one. You rock! And, although it was anonymous - and a comment from PennLady's last story - there was at least one person out there who wanted this gentleman to be featured in a story. So here he is, #52, all for you, whoever you are! Happy Reading! M. ;) *** Unsure of why he'd come all this way when he knew they weren't here, Mark Gaines stood outside the main entrance to the Verizon Center, leaning on his crutches. He scowled at the building as though he could make his team reappear and his injury vanish. Then he felt the dull throb in his right ankle and it all came back to him. It had all happened so quickly. Hockey was fast and injuries happened even faster sometimes and he wanted to kick himself for not doing what he should have to avoid this. Or at least, he wished he could kick himself. Having one injured ankle was enough to keep him out of the arena and off the ice for four weeks, if not longer. With a sigh, he turned and walked away from the arena. All the staring and scowling in the world wouldn't make his injury go away. He paused at the end of the block and looked around. The day was bright but cool as the sun was lower in the sky already. People were bustling along the sidewalk on their way to or from work or school, or whatever else was the focus of their lives. The throb in his ankle increased for a moment and he figured he couldn't really go far like this. When he'd taken the Metro to the Verizon Center he hadn't put much thought into what he'd do from that point on. Turning, he headed back towards the entrance to the Metro. As he hobbled along the sidewalk, he didn't pay much attention to the people passing him. He made his way below street level and got on the train. He switched to the orange line after two stops and plunked himself into the nearest empty seat, leaning his crutches against his legs. Man, Coach would be pissed if he saw me getting around like this, he thought with a smirk. He'd been told to stay off his feet for a few days at least. That had lasted two whole days before he ended up so bored he'd considered taking up knitting. When that thought had crossed his mind, he'd grabbed his crutches and left his apartment. He supposed he should just be glad that it wasn't more serious. The trainers and doctors agreed that it was a mild sprain and that he shouldn't be skating for at least three weeks. After that, he would be reassessed and hopefully he could get back to practicing with the team. He wouldn't be ready for games for probably four to five weeks but he was going to do his best to get back into the line-up before that. Sighing, he tilted his head back and shut his eyes. The throbbing in his ankle subsided slightly and he let his mind wander. Everything came back to the incident at the game three nights ago. It hadn't been something he'd done. It hadn't even been because of someone on the other team coming after him. He'd gone after the puck along the boards and turned to follow as the small black disc had shot out along the ice. Whatever he did, something in his move had twisted his ankle and the second he'd put weight on it, he'd gone down. The team was supportive and assured him that they wouldn't be the same without him. He believed them and was grateful for their attitude. More than anything though, he hated being left behind. It was already late in November and the team was doing really well so far. He didn't want to miss out on anything at this point. Not that he thought his absence would be a terrible loss to the team but he just wanted to be there for all the wins. While his mind rolled over all he'd be missing, Mark glanced around the train. A new thought occurred to him and he quickly checked what the next stop was. As gracefully as he could, he rose and tucked his crutches underneath his arms. Off the train, he made his way above ground and down the street. A block and a half over was a pub he remembered visiting not long after he'd hit the legal age. He narrowed his eyes at the red brick building with its black awning reaching out to cover the small outdoor seating area. At the moment, the tables and chairs outside were stacked against the main building; it was too cold now most days to sit outside. Exhaling slowly, he moved past the railing and walked inside, grateful for the immediate wash of noise and fried food smells that greeted him. His face eased and the scowl disappeared. He picked his way through the small crowd and sat down at the main bar. It wasn't terribly busy; a few people sitting at tables and the pool tables were all surrounded by players and spectators. Music poured out of the sound system and Mark could feel himself relax further as he propped his crutches against his thigh while he perched on a stool. "What can I get you?" the bartender asked as he stopped in front of Mark, wiping his hands on a towel. "Can I get a Red Stripe?" Mark asked. The bartender nodded and moved away. Mark glanced around at the bar and watched some of the people for a few seconds until the bartender returned. Thanking him, Mark lifted the dark bottle to his lips and drank deeply. He set it down and looked around again, but not really registering what he saw inside the pub. He knew drinking probably wasn't the best thing to be doing at the moment. Being off the ice for a couple weeks wouldn't help him stay in shape and drinking certainly wouldn't help either. Screw it, he thought and took another swig of his Red Stripe. I can drink for one night. *** "Are you sure you don't want to go out for a movie, Hil?" Lena asked as she pulled on her jacket. Hilary looked over at her friend and smiled. "No, thanks," she replied. "You go ahead. Tell Jane I said 'hi.'" Lena stood by the front door to their shared apartment and watched her roommate move around the kitchen. "You're just going to stay in and eat popcorn? And chocolate?" she asked incredulously. Turning a scowl on her roommate, Hilary shook her head even as she was sliding a bag of buttery flavor popcorn into the microwave. "It's not like I eat junk food all the time, Lena," she said. Lena laughed and shook her head. "That's true. I just don't understand why you don't want to come out to the theater. You could have popcorn there!" "I could also put on my sweats and eat it here," Hilary replied, lifting her long, golden hair over her shoulder. She pasted a sweet smile on her face and looked over at her friend. "You go. Enjoy the crowded theater and sticky floors." "I just don't want to leave you alone," Lena said. Hilary sighed and turned away again. "I'm fine," she insisted but there was no strength behind her tone. "Sure you are," Lena replied sarcastically. "You're perfectly all right with the fact that you just found out your ex-boyfriend got married. And is having a baby." Hilary glared at Lena and fought for something snarky to say. She had nothing. "Oh, and this is my favorite part, the woman is only nineteen," Lena said as she adjusted her purse on her shoulder. "Scott told you he liked older women and younger women were too needy and immature." Scoffing, Hilary crossed her arms over her chest. "I was hardly older than him," she replied. "It was a difference of six months." "Well, now he's got six years on his darling wife," Lena said. "He's not worth your time, Hil. You need to stop wallowing and come out with me and Jane." Hilary glared at her roommate and wanted to tell her to take a hike. But everything she'd just said was true. Scott was married to a younger woman and Hilary was wallowing because he'd chosen the nineteen-year-old over her. "Fine," she snapped and stalked past Lena, heading for her bedroom. "Yay!" Lena cheered. "You'll have fun, Hil! I know it." In her room, Hilary huffed out an annoyed sigh. She went to her closet and pulled out the first two items she laid eyes on; a pair of faded and worn jeans and a snug neon pink T-shirt with a purple butterfly across the front. After grabbing socks and her purse, she rejoined Lena in the front hall. "Oh come on," Lena said to her with a smile. She nudged Hilary's shoulder. "Give me a smile." "If I end up having fun tonight, then I'll smile," Hilary replied. She pulled her high-heeled boots on and shrugged into her jacket. Then she led the way out of their apartment. Lena tried to get her talking as they walked towards the Metro station. Hilary gave her one word answers and tried to sink into her jacket. The air was cool but not terribly so. Fall was just about gone and Hilary wished she was back home for Thanksgiving again. She knew Lena was trying to improve her mood but her roommate was so cheerful these days that Hilary had a hard time being around her sometimes. I guess being in a stable relationship with the same man for nearly a year could do that to a person, Hilary thought, calling to mind an image of her roommate's impressive boyfriend, Capitals forward Anatoli Oborotenski. At the Metro station they met up with their friend Jane and together the three of them caught a train to the nearest theater. Hilary tried to enjoy the movie but could not get behind the heroine of the romantic comedy. She spent most of her time rolling her eyes or looking around the darkened theater. Finally, the credits started to roll up the screen and the three of them were heading back out. The air was cooler outside with the sun down and Hilary pulled her jacket closed, yanking the zipper up. "So what do you ladies want to do now?" Jane asked as they loitered out front of the theater, throngs of people moving around them. "I think I'm done," Hilary said, desperately wanting to go home and get into her comfy pajamas. Lena scoffed at her and threw an arm around her shoulders. "You're not done," she said firmly. "You're coming with us for a drink." "Oh, yeah, that sounds fun!" Jane exclaimed and clapped her hands. "I haven't been out for drinks in ages." Hilary narrowed her eyes at Jane. "You went out with Henry last Friday." Jane laughed and waved her hand dismissively at Hilary. "Yeah, but that was with Henry," she said. "I haven't been out with the girls in forever." Laughing, Lena reached out for Jane, linking arms with her. Then she started walking, dragging Hilary behind her as Jane chattered excitedly on her other side. Sighing, Hilary went along with them, deciding it was easier than arguing at the moment. They walked for a few blocks before getting back on the Metro. "Where are we going?" Hilary asked as they boarded the blue line. "There's this great pub and restaurant near GWU called Froggy Bottom," Jane answered. "I used to go there all the time." "It's not that far from our place," Lena added as she sat down. Shrugging, Hilary plunked down next to Lena. At this point, she figured she could use a drink. She was still smarting over Scott dumping her six months ago for a younger woman and she had to admit that if she'd stayed home tonight, she'd have wallowed, big time. Lena was a great friend to get her out and she didn't appreciate it. A small smile touching her lips now, Hilary leaned close to her friend and thanked her. "For what?" Lena asked. "For getting me out of the apartment," Hilary replied. "I would have much rather stayed in but thanks for not letting me." "Hil, you need to forget about that loser," Jane piped up. "There are thousands of other men out there who are better for you than Scott could ever be." "She's right," Lena agreed with a grin. Hilary laughed at them and shook her head. "You guys are impossible," she said. "But I love you anyway." "And don't worry," Jane went on. "We'll get you good and drunk tonight. Maybe even get you hooked up with someone at the bar." Hilary lifted her eyebrows and smirked. "Oh, good. Just what I need. A drunk loser at a bar." Her two friend laughed and a minute later they all began chatting easily about what was going on in their lives. Hilary listened with half an ear and stared out the window as the train moved. She wondered if she did need to cut loose and get drunk as Jane suggested. Maybe even find some drunk guy in the bar to have a good time with. *** Mark downed the last of his fourth beer - or was it his fifth? - and set the glass back on the bar. He rubbed his chin as the bartender wandered back in his direction. "Another?" The bartender asked. Nodding, Mark sat up straight and stretched his back. He rubbed his chin, rough with two day old stubble and stared down towards the end of the bar. There were a few more people in the small pub now than when he'd first arrived. A lot of younger people, college students he figured, seeing as how the bar was so close to George Washington University. Several were even wearing GWU sweatshirts. Smirking, Mark turned back to the bartender just as the other man set a fresh beer in front of him. "You got a way to get home?" the bartender asked as Mark took his first sip of the new beer. Looking up, Mark met the disapproving gaze of the other man and smiled. "Sure. I have a bus pass." Rolling his eyes, the bartender moved away, leaving Mark alone with his beer and his wounded foot. A blast of cold air from outside washed against Mark's side and he turned his head to see three women stroll into the bar. Three very attractive women. One was dark-haired with a wide smile and she looked familiar. He squinted his eyes as he tried to place her. "Lena?" he said as she walked closer, her two companions close by her side. She paused and turned to meet his gaze with a curious look. Then her face split into another grin and she walked over to him. "Hey, Mark! What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on your way to Atlanta right now?" Mark winced at her question but smiled ruefully to mask it. "I had a bad fall the other night," he replied and gestured at his companions; the two stiff crutches propped up beside him. Lena's smile drooped and she bit her lip as a flush swept over her cheeks. "Oh man, I'm so sorry," she said. "I should have known." He chuckled and shook his head. "It's all right. I know you only pay attention to one guy out there." Her blush deepened and she laughed unselfconsciously. "Yeah, Obie's pretty great." Mark had to agree, no matter how miserable he might be at the moment because of his current state. Anatoli Oborotenski had been dating Lena since the holidays last year. She'd gotten to know most of the guys on the team fairly well and Mark liked her. She was a friendly person and genuinely cared about Anatoli. "What brings you here tonight?" he asked, hoping she wouldn't be able to tell how many beers he'd had. What was he up to now? Seven? Oh, Christ, he thought and shook his head. It's bad if I can't even remember. He was almost afraid to stand up again. He might end up making himself look like an idiot. "I'm here with my friends," she replied and turned to lift a hand towards her two companions. "We just saw a movie. Mark, this is my roommate Hilary, and this is our friend Jane." Mark lifted his eyes to take in the two women standing with her. The one she called Jane was slightly taller than Lena with short, light brown hair and dark brown eyes. The other, Hilary, was a few inches shorter than Lena and had a long mane of dark honey-colored hair. She was dressed plainly in jeans and a T-shirt, though the neon pink shirt hugged sinful curves, leaving little to his imagination. Her eyes were bright, even in the dim interior of the pub and when she lifted her gaze to his, they shone a startling blue. Mark swallowed, feeling as though someone had just slapped him in the back of the head. "Ladies, this is Mark Gaines," Lena introduced him. "He plays with Anatoli." "Nice to meet you," Jane spoke first and held a hand out towards him. Mark automatically raised his hand to shake hers but his eyes didn't move from Hilary's face. After Jane released his hand, he moved it towards Hilary but she merely cocked one dark eyebrow at him and looked away. Blinking in surprise, Mark's eyes flicked to Lena, who was glaring at her friend. He didn't know what was going on and maybe if he hadn't consumed... ten beers, he'd be able to sort it out. "You want to sit down? Join me?" he offered, gesturing to the unoccupied bar stools alongside his. Lena glanced at her friends for confirmation but only Jane responded with an enthusiastic nod. So the three of them sat down with him; Lena on his left, Jane on his right and Hilary on the far side of Jane. "So you play hockey?" Jane asked as she leaned close to him, a friendly smile on her pretty face. Mark nodded. "Yup. At least I did, until two days ago." "Oh, please," Lena spoke up from his other side. "You're only injured. You make it sound as though you've been forced into retirement." "Yeah, can I get a Jamieson and Coke, please?" Hilary asked as the bartender stopped in front of them. Her sharp voice drew Mark's and the other two women's attention. "Sure," the bartender replied. "And for you two ladies?" he asked Lena and Jane. "I'll have a Bud Light," Jane replied. "You have any coolers?" Lena asked and listened as the bartender listed their selections. Lena picked a berry cooler and the bartender moved away to fill their orders. "What were you saying, Mark?" Jane asked a second later. He blinked and rubbed his stubbly chin. "Was I saying anything?" "You were going to tell me about playing hockey," Jane offered, still smiling that friendly smile at him. "OK," he agreed and told her about his time with the Washington Capitals. Lena added a comment here and there; after nearly a year with Anatoli, she knew a few things. The three of them talked for a while, downing their drinks and laughing together. With the two women on either side of him, Mark found himself drinking less and slowly proper thought returned to his mind. The cool air wafted in through the main door every time someone came or went and that helped as well. Mark couldn't help but notice the silence on the other side of Jane and felt himself leaning forward or back just to catch a glimpse of Hilary. He wondered what her deal was. She certainly hadn't looked pleased to be there and she hadn't been thrilled to meet him. Not that he was hurt by her dismissal but he was more than used to getting attention from pretty ladies. His career choice afforded him a certain advantage in that department. "Hilary?" Lena turned her attention to her friend for a moment when a silence descended over them all. "Are you doing all right down there?" "Oh yeah," came Hilary's flat reply. "I've got my whiskey and some peanuts and all is well." Mark snickered at her tone before he could stop himself and smiled apologetically at Lena who just looked annoyed. She sighed and shook her head. Mark didn't have anything to say but he shrugged and smiled at Lena, as though to say, 'what's up with her?' "So what did you injure anyway, Mark?" Jane asked, breaking the silence. Clearly, she didn't care about her friend's mood or was just more interested in Mark than he'd initially suspected. "I twisted my ankle," he replied, ignoring the snort of laughter he thought he heard from Jane's other side. "I'm not allowed back on the ice for a few weeks. That's why I'm carting around these crutches." "Should you even be out on crutches?" At last, a question from the withdrawn Hilary. A snarky question, to boot. Leaning forward against the bar, Mark turned his head to meet her narrow gaze. "I should be at home doing nothing but after two days of that, I needed to get out." "And a bar was your best option?" "Hilary!" Lena snapped at her friend but Mark shook his head. Keeping Ice On The Wound "It's all right," he said. "She's right. Drinking doesn't help solve anything. Wouldn't you agree?" he asked Hilary, pointedly looking at the almost empty glass before her. "What's that? Your third or fourth?" She flushed and looked away, her lips pressed tightly together. He watched as she lifted the glass, draining the tiny amount of liquid remaining. Unconsciously, he mirrored the motion of her swallow and flushed when his blood was suddenly diverted south of his head. "Hilary, maybe you should slow down," Jane suggested, turning some of her attention to her friend. "I'm fine," she snapped. "I'm going to the restroom," she announced a second later and hopped off her stool. Jane and Lena exchanged one of those female looks that Mark, and millions of other men in the world, could never understand or interpret and then Lena followed Hilary across the bar. Left alone with Jane, Mark smiled at her. She wasn't stirring him up like Hilary was, but she was friendly and pretty so he didn't think talking to her some more would hurt anyone. "So what do you do?" he asked. "I work for an accounting firm downtown," she answered with a smile. Her eyes flicked nervously towards the bathroom a couple times as she spoke and Mark wondered if she was nervous to have been left alone with him. "I've been there for a couple years now." "You enjoy that?" he asked, keeping the smile on his face and hoping he didn't look like an idiot. She shrugged and crossed her arms on the bar in front of them. "It's all right. It's what I went to school for, so I knew what I was getting into." Mark nodded and they continued to chat for a few minutes until Lena reappeared, without Hilary. She had an annoyed look on her face that had Mark smirking behind his glass of beer. "I feel like playing some pool," Lena announced. "You up for it, Mark?" He raised his eyebrows at her as he set his beer down on the bar. He let his gaze drop to his crutches before meeting Lena's eyes again. "I would love to, but I don't think I could manage it." She laughed and nodded. "Sorry! I almost forgot about that. What about you, Jane?" Jane nodded and got off her stool to follow her friend through the bar to the nearest empty pool table. Mark watched them for a few minutes, wondering what Lena was saying to Jane; and she was saying a lot. Her lips were moving quickly and she was gesturing with her hands, almost clipping Jane in the head a couple times with the triangular rack. Then Mark caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to see Hilary weaving her way back through the crowd to the bar. He watched her progress, smiling crookedly at her as she approached. Her eyes immediately took in the absence of her friends and she scowled. "What happened to the two of them?" she asked. "Playing pool," he replied, jerking his chin in the direction of the pool tables. "Hmm," she murmured and climbed back onto her stool. "Can I get you another round?" Mark asked, twisting back around in his seat. Hilary glanced in his direction before shrugging. "I'll take that as a yes," he said and flagged the bartender down. After they both had fresh drinks in front of them, they fell into an uncomfortable silence. Mark picked at the label on his bottle of beer and glanced sideways at Hilary a couple of times. She was quite attractive and his injury certainly didn't keep him from experiencing desire in all its forms. A smile touched his lips as the thought crossed his mind and he heard a heavy sigh from beside him. "What?" he asked. "I didn't say anything," she replied, looking over at him. "No, but you made some sort of... noise," he replied, his smile widening when he saw her frown. "The sort of noise a woman makes when she wants a man to know exactly what's wrong but he really has no idea." She blinked and stared at him and Mark was caught by the vibrant blue of her eyes. Then the corner of her mouth twitched and he knew she was fighting a smile. "Well, you're right about men not knowing what's going on." Lifting his eyebrows, Mark twisted on his stool to better face her. "I didn't say all men. You shouldn't make generalizations like that." "You're right," she agreed, surprising him. "After years of men assuming they know everything about women, I suppose it would do them a great disservice to return the favor." Blinking, Mark absorbed her words before letting out a short laugh. He watched her and was pleased to see a real smile spread across her face. "Well, if we're going to debate the sexes, maybe you should move closer." Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows but Mark was encouraged when the smile remained on her pretty face. "Why should I do that?" "Because I don't want to keep shouting and I'm not exactly coordinated at the moment," he replied, gesturing at the crutches beside him. They weren't really shouting but he was ready to use any excuse to get her closer. "All right," she agreed, lifting her drink and stepping down from her stool. Mark watched her slide onto the one next to him and as she moved, the door opened again, blowing a slight breeze in their direction. He caught a scent of spicy musk from Hilary's direction and fought the urge to bury his nose in her long hair. "So if you're in such a mood tonight, why'd you come out with your girlfriends?" he asked. She whipped her head around to stare at him, her smile fading instantly. "What makes you think I'm in a 'mood?'" She demanded, her tone sharp. He shrugged. "That noise you made? I know enough about women to know that it's a 'mood' noise." He hooked his fingers in the air in a quotation sign. For a moment she didn't say anything and then he saw the corners of her mouth tilting up again. He grinned in reply and lifted his bottle to clink against her glass. "You aren't what I expected," she said after a moment of silence. He smiled at her but felt suddenly wary. He suspected that as Lena's roommate, she must know who he is, if only by name. Of course, she might also be a hockey fan, in which case her opinion of him could go either way. Women were hard to read when it came to his career. "What were you expecting?" he asked. She shrugged and the smile she threw his way was almost shy. At least, if he knew her better he'd have thought it was a shy smile. "I don't know," she replied quietly. "Someone more... arrogant. Snobby maybe." He snorted with laughter and shook his head. "Hardly. I haven't risen so high that I've forgotten where I've come from." "And where is that, exactly?" Again he merely gave her a look, trying to ascertain if she was playing him or not. She looked genuinely interested; if in a sort of ticked off way. So he opened his mouth to start to tell her about his youth in Calgary when Jane appeared between them, interrupting. "Hey, guys!" she exclaimed and took a long sip of Hilary's drink. Mark watched Hilary's face as her friend arrived and was surprised to see the scowl. Her entire body tensed up and she turned away from Jane and Mark. "You know, Mark," Jane said, moving her whole body sideways so her back was to Hilary. "You don't have to be nice to her if she's being a grumpy bitch with you." He lifted his eyebrows, surprised that Jane would say something like that about her friend. He didn't say anything in response and Jane giggled at her own comment. "Jane!" Lena called her name as she approached. "We're still in the middle of a game." Jane waved at her and ran her hand down Mark's arm before hurrying away again. For a minute, neither Mark or Hilary said anything. Slowly the tension seeped out of Hilary's shoulders but her pretty smile was nowhere to be seen. "Can I get you another drink?" he asked, breaking the silence. She glanced over at him and down at her now empty glass before shaking her head. "No. I shouldn't have any more." Then she did smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Doesn't solve anything, right?" He shrugged. "I guess. But it makes it feel better for a while." She laughed and her smile turned genuine. "You're a nice guy, Mark." "Don't tell anyone," he replied quickly and glanced around as though checking to see if anyone had overheard. She laughed again and then turned to face him more directly. "Are you planning on staying here for a while?" The question caught him off guard and he didn't know what to say. Several witty remarks came to mind, some more than suggestive. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to play that game with this woman. So while he sat there, struggling for something smart and funny to say, an amazing grin spread across her face. "I... wasn't planning to stay late," he replied. He made a show of checking his wrist, though it was bare of any watch. "In fact, I should probably get going." "I can help you get home," she offered. Shaking his head, Mark spun around on his stool and grasped the soft handles of his crutches. "I'll be all right," he assured her. "It's only been two days but I think I've got the hang of these things." He met her gaze again and she tilted her head to one side, that wide grin still on her face. She leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. "I don't think you understood me," she said. "I want to help you get home." Slowly her meaning sank in and Mark wondered briefly if he'd had too much to drink. I can't even tell anymore when a woman is hitting on me, he thought as he studied her face. "All right," he replied out loud. "It's probably a little out of your way, though." He thought he should give her fair warning even though every cell in his body was suddenly alive and tingling. Luckily, she only shrugged. "I don't mind. I wouldn't want you to fall on your way home and get run over by a truck or something." Mark's eyebrows shot up and he grinned. "Yeah, that would suck a lot." Still grinning at him, Hilary hopped off her stool and pulled on her jacket. Then she waited patiently as Mark did the same, arranging himself with his crutches as well. Another minute later, they were walking together out of the bar. *** The minute she'd seen him in the bar, Hilary had known who he was. She followed hockey a little bit and knew most of the faces and names of the Washington Capitals. She'd learned more since Lena had started dating their star forward, Anatoli Oborotenski. Secretly she'd always liked Mark Gaines. He was a defenseman and they sometimes got overlooked in favor of the flashier goal scorers. Mark was a different sort though. He was good at his job but he had a shot that was sure and strong. It didn't hurt that he was tall and muscular and Hilary had always been a sucker for dark hair and eyes. Even though she'd been less than relaxed upon walking into the pub with her friends, Hilary had been thrilled to meet him, in spite of her assumptions about all hockey players. In the past, she'd been hurt while dating a hockey player and she had never really gotten over it. She supposed she could have been a little nicer to him but Jane had jumped right in, hitting on him unabashedly. All three of them had effectively excluded her from the conversation until Lena had cornered her in the washroom. "What's your problem tonight?" she'd demanded. "I don't know why I'm here," Hilary had replied honestly. "I didn't think I'd have to sit there and listen to Jane hit on yet another guy." "You could join in the conversation, you know." "Why bother? He's just a hockey player looking for someone to hook up with tonight and Jane seems to be a more than willing participant." "Don't be ridiculous. Jane is a flirt but she doesn't take guys home from the bar." "I should hope not. What do we even know about him?" Hilary had demanded, her mind racing through the stats she did know and pushing aside thoughts of going home with him herself. Lena had thrown her hands into the air at that point. "I don't know why I bother. If you want to drink yourself silly tonight and try to forget about what an asshole Scott is, go ahead. I won't be a part of it though." With that, she'd stormed out of the washroom. Left alone, Hilary had washed her hands, checked her hair and clothes and slowly made her way back across the bar to where Mark had been left alone. She'd expected him to give her a hard time about drinking, like her friends had. Instead, he'd been perfectly friendly and she'd actually found herself enjoying talking to him. Then she'd offered to take him home and had to live for long seconds wondering if he'd shoot her down. He hadn't. So here she was; riding the Metro with him towards his home in Arlington. It was a decidedly unsexy mode of transportation but she figured at this point there was no turning back. So they chatted awkwardly for a few minutes before stopping altogether. Hilary sat next to him and he held his crutches on his other side, out of the way of other passengers, though the car they were on was mostly empty now. She thought if she just leaned slightly to the side, or even relaxed a few muscles, she'd end up touching him from shoulder to thigh. Then she thought she was being ridiculously prudish considering she was going home with him; in all likelihood for a one-night stand. That was something she'd never done before. But then, she'd never met someone she felt so instantly attracted to. It was more than a little rattling. "What are you thinking about?" Mark asked, his deep voice startling her out of her twisting thoughts. "Nothing really," she replied vaguely. There is no way I'm going to tell him what I was thinking, she added silently. He chuckled and nudged her with one arm, letting their bodies remain in contact after the move. "I can tell when a woman has something on her mind," he said. Scoffing to hide her reaction to his touch, Hilary reached up with one hand and scooped her hair off her shoulder. She glanced over at him in time to see him follow the motion of her hand with an almost hungry look. Something clenched inside her belly and her mouth went dry. "I think you should get it off your chest now," he said, his voice coming out thicker than when he last spoke. "Before we end up at my place and I won't be letting you run away." Hilary blushed furiously at his words, pleased that he was no longer bothering to pretend that they were going to his place for coffee and cards. She bit her lower lip and peeked at him through her lashes. "I won't want to run away," she told him, her heart pounding erratically in her chest. All or nothing, she thought as the heat in her face spread lower. All or nothing. "Are you sure?" he asked and swallowed. Hilary watched the knob of his Adam's Apple bob up and down. "This could be tricky, what with my injury and all." Hilary lifted her eyebrows but lowered her eyes to take in the wrapped ankle. Slowly she raised her eyes, lingering on his muscular thighs and his broad chest. When she met his gaze again, she thought she saw a blush on his cheeks. It made him look younger than he was, though he definitely had one of those faces that gave an impression of youth. He narrowed his eyes and blinked, his dark lashes distracting her entirely for a long moment. The look he gave her then was anything but youthful. It was the sort of look a man gives a woman he wants to undress with his teeth. Images flashed through her mind and Hilary blushed again. She ducked her chin and looked away, shocked by her own imagination. Heat suffused her entire body and she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, hoping he didn't know just how affected she was. "Well," he said quietly, shifting on his side of the seat. "That answers that." Hilary bit down on her lip to keep her nervous laugh from escaping. For the rest of the ride to Arlington, they remained silent. Every so often, Hilary would glance at him. Sometimes, he'd be looking at her and his eyes would go wide for a second before he'd look away, a blush coloring his ears and cheeks. He led her off the train and through the quiet streets to his apartment building. Thankfully there was an elevator up to his floor so he didn't have to try to navigate stairs with his crutches. Though Hilary reminded herself that he'd obviously managed to get out and across town with them and he was fine. At last they were alone in his apartment and as Mark shuffled down the hall away from the door, Hilary stood by awkwardly in her jacket. Mark turned to look at her and smiled. "Why don't you come in here?" he suggested, nodding his head towards his living room. "I would take your coat but I honestly don't think I could manage it and remain standing." Hilary laughed and followed him into the other room, pulling her jacket off as she went. She tossed it onto a chair along one wall and watched as Mark maneuvered around the room, finally planting himself in the middle of his couch. He set his crutches on the floor beside the couch and leaned his head back. "Man," he groaned. "I never thought trying to get around on those things would be so difficult." "Why did you even try?" Hilary asked as she moved around the room, looking at everything. His apartment was sparsely decorated, a regular bachelor pad. A few plain pieces of comfortable looking furniture and one or two pieces of art on the walls. The kitchen off the main room was clean looking with dark appliances and bar stools lining the kitchen island. Of course, the centerpiece of the entire room was a large flat screen television. A smile touched her lips as she stopped in front of it. "Does my place meet your approval?" Mark asked from behind her. She looked at him over her shoulder and shrugged. "I think it doesn't really matter what I think," she said. "Why not?" "Well, I'm hardly the first girl you've brought home, right?" Silence greeted her question and after a moment she turned around to face Mark. He had a strange look on his face. Hilary wondered if she'd offended him. "You think I do this all the time," Mark said. He didn't phrase it as a question. From his tone, she guessed that she'd misjudged. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "It's fine," he replied, shrugging one shoulder. They fell silent then. Hilary looked at him, met his steady brown-eyed gaze and then looked away, a blush staining her cheeks. "Come here," he said, his voice husky. She hesitated, still not looking at him. "Hilary," he murmured her name and she heard the couch creak as he moved. "Gorgeous babe, come over here." This time she laughed, a short burst of sound one step shy of hysteria. It felt like a whole other lifetime when she'd offered to come home with him and now that she was here, alone with him in this apartment, she wasn't sure what she'd been thinking. She wondered if he knew she wasn't used to doing things like this and she looked over at him. He was leaning forward, a grin on his handsome face and Hilary was caught by the dark shade of his eyes. Before she knew it, she was moving towards him, walking slowly across the room until she stood beside him. He reached for her, closing one warm hand around her wrist and she had to tell herself not to flinch at his touch. He was so gentle, his palm so soft, which surprised her considering the physical life he led. He turned his hand and slid his thumb across the skin of her wrist and she shivered. His grin turned positively wicked at that and his grip tightened on her wrist. "Sit with me," Mark said, his voice still very low. Hilary stared at him, taking in the width of his shoulders, the length of his legs and the soft look in his eyes. Biting her lip, she moved closer and sat down, as he asked. What he probably wasn't expecting was where she sat down; one leg on either side of his as she settled in his lap, facing him. Keeping Ice On The Wound He didn't waste much time being surprised though. Lifting his hands, he grasped her waist and rested his head back against the couch. Hilary squirmed slightly until she found a comfortable spot, laughing at his pained expression. A moment later she felt the reason for his look. "Are you sure you won't be making your injury worse?" she asked and grinned when he narrowed his eyes at her. "At this point, I wouldn't care if it did," he growled and cupped the back of her head. Hilary leaned close, going with the pull of his arms and sighed as his lips touched hers. He was hesitant at first, only lightly brushing their lips together. Resting her palms on his chest, she shifted closer and sucked in a breath when she felt him swell beneath her. His kiss turned insistent at her indrawn breath and she felt his hand tunnel deeper into her hair. Tilting her head to one side, Hilary parted her lips and smiled against Mark's when she felt his tongue slide inside. He kissed her hungrily, making some noise at the back of his throat that had Hilary pressing into his chest. She circled his shoulders with her arms and pressed her breasts against him. Feeling his fingers dig into her waist where he held her, she squeezed her thighs and smiled when she heard the responding groan. "You're evil," he groaned, pulling away from their kiss. Breathing heavily, Hilary kept her face close to his and grinned. "I could be," she replied softly and leaned forward again. She put her lips right next to his ear before speaking again. "If you want me to." She combined her words with the gentlest of hip thrusts but it was just enough for Mark to grab her hips with both hands. "Oh God," he moaned and threw his head back as she did it again. "I think you need to get undressed. Now." Hilary didn't mind the hoarse order, but she didn't want him to think he was entirely in charge. Sucking his ear lobe into her mouth, she nibbled it before moving back. Keeping her eyes on his, she moved her hands down and lifted the edge of her shirt. His eyes flicked downward and he frowned as she teased him by barely lifting the hem. In the next second he grasped it in his hands and yanked it over her head. "Tease," he growled at her and drew her close again for more intoxicating kisses. Hilary felt the heat creep up her neck. She was beginning to feel flushed all over and Mark's hands moving over the bared skin of her torso was making her even hotter. She shivered as his fingertips skimmed the sensitive skin of her ribs, just under the elastic of her bra. Once again he broke their kiss to pull back and look into her face. "What?" she asked, uncomfortable with the hooded look in his brown eyes. "I want you naked," he murmured. Hilary felt her body ignite all over. The heat suffused the surface of her skin everywhere while an unmistakable moisture gathered between her thighs. Slowly Mark reached up and pulled the straps of her bra down her arms. She tried to grab them but he was too quick, scooping out one breast and covering her taut nipple with his mouth. All reason fled and Hilary found herself clutching his shoulders to keep from tumbling backwards off his lap. Mark's mouth was hot on her skin as his tongue laved her nipple in lazy circles. His hands pulled at the back of her bra, dragging the fabric down her ribs until it was wrapped loosely around her waist, leaving her exposed to his kisses. He moved his mouth to the other nipple and sucked hard on it for a moment before moving again, trailing hot, moist kisses up to her neck. There he sucked on her pulsing vein and Hilary gasped for breath, feeling the tingles all the way to her toes. "You're still not naked," he grumbled against her neck. Laughing breathlessly, Hilary tried to respond but it took her several long moments to work through the fog that had once been her brain. "You won't let me up," she replied. In an instant, his hands fell away and he leaned back, resting his head on the couch. "There," he said, his tone implying that it pained him greatly to let her go. Giggling, Hilary stood up carefully, unsure if her own legs would support her. It didn't help that Mark watched her with hungry eyes as she unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. Her fingers fumbled with the button on her jeans and Mark sat forward, reaching for her. "I'm not done," she protested halfheartedly but Mark only brushed her hands aside to release the button and slide the zipper down. Hilary watched his hands and thought he'd sit back once he was done 'helping' her. But he didn't. Instead he began to push the edges of her jeans over her hips. She glanced into his face but he wasn't looking at her. He had a look of such fierce concentration on his face that she couldn't help but smile. His lips were pursed and he had a cute little line bisecting his forehead. His hair was so dark and messed up, less messy-on-purpose and more messy-because-I-don't-care. Before she knew what she was doing, Hilary lifted her hand and ran it through the short locks. His eyes finally lifted from his work at undressing her and he met her wondering gaze. Biting her lip, Hilary met his eyes only briefly before glancing away again. She raised her other hand and ran all her fingers through his unruly hair. His eyes drifted shut as she did it but his hands kept moving on her. Her jeans pooled at her feet and she stepped out of them. Mark moved his hands up the outsides of her thighs, lifting goosebumps in her skin as he did. Then his fingers were clutching the edges of her panties. She leaned forward, one of her hands dropping from his head to shove at her underwear. His eyes flew open when he felt her hand over his and he grinned at her, that wicked, sexy grin that had her shivering all over. Her panties came down quickly after that and Mark was sitting back on the couch, hauling her into his lap. She went willingly, touching her lips to his as she did. His warm hands went around her body, holding her close and she sank against his chest. She felt the coarse exterior of his shirt and frowned, breaking their kiss. Now it was he who sat back and asked, "What?" "You need to get naked," she told him and yanked at the bottom of his shirt before he had a chance to reply. With a laugh, he held his hands over his head and helped her remove his shirt. She tossed it aside before she dragged her hands across his shoulders and down his broad chest. He was firmly muscled and Hilary loved the feeling of his skin beneath her palms. It also gave her a little thrill to feel the tremble that swept across his body as she circled his nipples. Slowly she moved her fingertips over every inch of him, paying special attention to the swirling lines of his tattoos. "These are beautiful," she murmured, dropping her eyes to take in the shape of the design around his right shoulder. He scoffed at her but held still as she continued to explore. There was another one down the inside of his right bicep, a fancy scripted word; 'Family.' Down the other arm was a third one, another word; 'Faith.' She was completely fascinated by all of them. Never in her life had she considered getting a tattoo. She had a sister who'd braved their parents' displeasure and had a dragonfly tattooed on her hip. Hilary didn't understand the appeal. Now though, with Mark shirtless and tense beneath her fingers, she thought she might begin to understand. Suddenly Mark grasped her wrists and wrapped her arms behind her back; evidently he'd grown tired of her exploration. He made a low growling noise before leaning forward to capture his lips with hers. His tongue plunged inside her mouth, ruthlessly tangling with hers. She sighed and kissed him back, lifting her tongue to meet his strokes head on. She jerked her hips forward for good measure, almost crowing with delight when his grasp on her wrists tightened and he made a strangled sound deep in his throat. "Let me go," she murmured against his lips and he did, letting go of her wrists to clutch at her bottom. Hilary reached between them and moved her body back so she could reach the fastening of his jeans. Releasing the button, she laughed out loud when she saw that he wasn't wearing boxers. "What's so funny?" he demanded. "Not a thing," she replied, keeping her eyes on the prize. "Lift your hips," she ordered a second later and he did. Together they managed to get his jeans down to his knees. "Come here," he growled at her, reaching for her. She went gladly, settling against him and sucking in a sharp breath when she felt every hot, rigid inch of him against her damp center. Placing her hands on either side of his face, she kissed him, rocking her hips against him as she did. He groaned and dug his fingers into her upper thighs. Their tongues met and danced as he slid his fingers between them to toy with her. She cried out against his lips and arched her body closer, aching for more than the simple teasing touch of his fingers. He seemed to sense her need and withdrew his hand a few seconds later. She felt his hands slide around her thighs to lift her and then she felt the head of his cock pressing at her entrance. With a sigh, she pushed down, swallowing his groan of pleasure as he slid all the way in. He felt so good, so snugly settled up inside of her that she couldn't stop the immediate instinct to rub herself against him. He responded, lifting his hips to meet her. Together they rose and fell and kissed as their bodies grew sweaty with exertion. In the back of her mind, Hilary was screaming with shock and delight at this amazing turn of events. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever thought she'd be in Mark Gaines' lap, riding him like a prize stallion. But she was and he was driving deeper with each thrust. She lifted her head, gasping for air and he closed his lips on her chin. He licked his way from her chin to the underside of her ear and Hilary clung to his shoulders, rising with each powerful thrust of his hips. Their bodies met roughly with each movement and she exhaled sharply each time. "God, you feel good," Mark murmured into her hair. One of his hands slid up her back from her waist. He slid his palm over her shoulder blade before cupping the top of her shoulder from behind. "You too," she managed to get out between frantic breaths. Turning her head, she met his lips again, running her tongue over his bottom lip. Groaning, his pace increased and he drove himself into her faster. Their lips brushed together and slipped apart with each hurried push of his hips. His fingers tightened on her waist and shoulder and she dug her nails into his arms. Oh God, she thought, throwing her head back and sucking in great lungfuls of air. Oh God, he's going to make me... Her thoughts scattered as he did, sending her careening into an orgasm that made her see spots. He growled in her ear, his fingers tightening almost painfully on her body before he exploded inside her. For a long while, she lay draped over top of him, both of them breathing hard. As she caught her breath, Hilary felt his warm hand slide up her back to brush through her long hair. He lifted the honey-colored locks and moved them aside, piece by piece until he could plant a kiss on her neck. Smiling, Hilary tipped her head to one side to give him all the access he wanted. "How's your ankle?" she asked after a minute. "What ankle?" he replied lazily, still planting soft kisses to her skin. Laughing, Hilary wrapped her arms around him for a hug. What ankle, indeed, she thought and let her eyes slide shut of their own accord, sleep coming swiftly. *** The next day Mark still couldn't believe his good luck. In spite of the fact that Hilary had left sometime during the night while he dozed on the couch, he was almost euphoric. His ankle still hurt in the morning, but it was dimmed to a dull ache instead of an insistent throb. He whistled as he maneuvered his way around his small apartment, making breakfast. It wasn't until later, as he watched the highlights from the previous night's hockey games that he realized she'd left without leaving a way to reach her again. "Dammit," he muttered, throwing the remote control onto the cushion beside him. Then his face lightened when he saw his team take to the ice against the Thrashers in Atlanta. The game was close most of the night apparently but then his good friend Anatoli managed to step up and score an extra goal that ended up being the deciding factor. The anchors on the highlights show then went on to say that the Capitals would be heading to Florida for two games in four nights against the Florida Panthers and the Tampa Bay Lightning. Mark would have known that anyway; since hurting himself, he'd memorized the schedule of games that he'd be missing. Leaning over, he lifted the remote to mute the TV and then he picked up his phone. He called his teammate Anatoli, or as he was affectionately known around the locker room, 'Obie.' The big Russian picked up after three rings. "Hello?" "Obie, it's Mark," Mark said with a smile. "Gaines! How are you? Staying off your foot?" Anatoli asked. "Mostly," Mark replied honestly. Anatoli laughed and Mark grinned. "You see the game last night?" "I didn't watch it but I've been watching the highlights this morning," Mark said, lifting his eyes to the screen as the sportscasters began to discuss another game. "What were you doing that you couldn't watch the game?" For a second, Mark didn't respond. Apparently that was enough for Anatoli to figure it out. He hooted with laughter and Mark laughed along with him, practically giddy after the amazing night he'd had. "What's she like?" Anatoli asked. "Is she pretty at least or did you drink too much?" Mark laughed again before answering. He didn't really say much about Hilary beyond vague facts though a thought occurred to him as he spoke. "Hey, can I get Lena's phone number from you?" he asked. "Lena's? Why?" Anatoli asked. "Well..." Mark scrambled to think of an excuse. "I just thought since I'm stuck here while you guys are away, maybe I could meet her for coffee or something." "Man, you're not supposed to be going anywhere, especially with my woman!" Anatoli said this with a laugh but Mark could hear the underlying, unspoken threat. "Oh please," Mark scoffed. "I don't think I can last another day in this place. I need to get out." "No, you don't." "Fine. Then I want Lena's number so I can make her feel sorry for me and bring me a coffee," Mark replied. Anatoli laughed at that and relented. He recited Lena's phone number to Mark, who scrawled it onto the back of his hand since he couldn't reach any paper and they chatted for a short while longer before hanging up. Mark stared down at the number on his hand and smiled. She can't get away so easily, he thought. Then he thought that this was perhaps one step shy of becoming a stalker but at this point he didn't care. He'd had a good time with Hilary last night, great sex aside and he wanted to see her again. "As long as I'm stuck at home alone, she can keep me company," he muttered to himself and turned the phone over to dial the new number. *** Hilary thanked her lucky stars that she got home without Lena noticing. When she crept into the apartment near dawn the morning after leaving Mark's apartment, she'd been terrified of facing her friend. Not because she thought Lena would judge her for it, but because Hilary didn't feel like talking about it with anyone. It was still so new and surprising. She didn't want to fall into the trap of thinking it was more than what it was - a one-night stand - but she couldn't help recalling the look in his eyes as they made love and the way he'd melted under her touch. Even as she woke up late the following morning to the sound of a ringing telephone, she couldn't keep the immediate smile from spreading across her face. She exhaled gradually and rolled onto her side, pressing one hot cheek to her cool pillow as the recent memories swept over her. A minute later, she heard a gentle tapping on her bedroom door. "Hil? You awake?" Lena's voice called softly from the other side. "Yeah," Hilary replied in her hoarse morning voice. "You can come in." Lena poked her head in, a strange smile on her face. Then Hilary spotted the phone in her hand and lifted her eyebrows in a silent question. Carefully holding the mouthpiece of the phone, Lena crept across her room. "It's a guy asking for you," she whispered. "He says his name is Mark." Hilary felt color steal over her cheeks and she sat up quickly, hoping to cover her surprise with the movement. Lena handed over the phone and turned to go, that same knowing smile on her face. "Hello?" Hilary spoke into the phone, watching her friend retreat. But at the door Lena froze and spun around to stare at her. "Mark?" she mouthed, her eyes wide. Hilary frowned at her and waved her hand, trying to get her to leave the room. But Lena wasn't having it. She hopped from foot to foot, clapping her hands and laughing out loud. "Hilary?" Mark's deep voice filled her ear and Hilary blushed all over again. "Hi," she replied softly. "Did I wake you?" "No, the phone ringing did," she said and pressed a hand to her fluttering stomach at his answering laugh. "Well, good," he said. "I was wondering if you had any plans for today." Hilary glanced up at her roommate who was standing by the open doorway, still staring at her. Lena was grinning from ear to ear and she pointed at Hilary with one hand while trying to hold in her laughter with the other. "Hilary?" Mark's voice came through the phone again. "Uh, can you hold on a second, Mark?" she asked. "Sure." Hilary put the phone in her lap, covering the mouthpiece. "You have to get out, now!" she hissed at her friend. "You and I are going to talk," Lena replied instead, using her firmest tone. "I'll tell you anything you want to know if you just leave me alone now," Hilary pleaded. Laughing, Lena did as she asked, backing out of the bedroom and closing the door behind her. Taking a deep breath, Hilary lifted the phone back to her ear and apologized to Mark. "I just had to... take care of something," Hilary said and blushed deeper. "It's all right," Mark replied. "So are you free today? Do you want to come over?" "I have to work later," she told him even though she wasn't positive when her next shift was. Since she'd agreed to go out with Lena and Jane last night, she figured she must have at least been off for the whole morning. "Oh, all right. What about tomorrow then?" he asked and she laughed. Damn, he's sure persistent, she thought and shook her head even though it pleased her to no end. "How did you even get my number?" She asked. "I called Anatoli and he gave it to me," he told her. "Oh my God," she breathed, heat flooding her face and entire body. "You... you told him? About... about last night?" Oh God, if he told Anatoli, then the whole team would know by now... the thoughts raced through her mind in the seconds between her question and Mark's reply. "What? No!" Mark exclaimed and laughed. "Of course not. God, no." Hilary was relieved to hear that. She flopped back onto her pillows and chewed on her lower lip. "So how did you get him to give you our number?" she asked. "I told him I wanted to talk to Lena and ask her to take pity on me in my invalid state," Mark explained and she couldn't help but smile. "He bought it but he told me in very clear terms that I wasn't to touch his 'woman.'" Hilary smiled. While she was somewhat confused about Mark's own reasons for not telling his friend about last night, she was pleased to know that her friend's boyfriend was so protective of her. She'd had her doubts when Anatoli had first come into Lena's life but over the many months, Hilary had come to like the big hockey player. Keeping Ice On The Wound "So you really only wanted to call me so I could take pity on your injured self?" Hilary asked, feeling playful now. "Bring you ice and such?" Mark laughed, the deep sound sending shock-waves through Hilary's body. She sternly told herself to settle down. "You can bring ice if you want," he replied. "Really, I just want to see you again." Well, Hilary just didn't know what to say to that. Her mouth opened and closed a couple times but she couldn't think of anything to say. "Hilary?" Mark broke the silence. "Are you still there?" "Yes," she managed to say. "So..." he spoke again, letting the word hang there for a moment. "So you want to see me again?" Hilary replied. "Of course," he said. "Don't you want to see me again?" Did she? She'd had a lot of fun with him, before they'd even gone back to his place and there had definitely been sparks when they'd arrived at his apartment. But did she really want to risk seeing him again, getting to know him better, liking him even more? "Hil, you gotta stop doing that to me," he groaned over the phone and a giggle escaped her before she could stop it. "A-ha! You are still there!" "I'm here, you crazy gimp," she replied. He laughed and Hilary could picture his smile as he did it. She exhaled, ignoring the humming in her blood. "All right," she agreed. "I'll come over tomorrow." "Awesome. Come over before the game starts and we can watch it," he said, not even skipping a beat. "The game?" "The Caps-Panthers game," he said in a tone that suggested she was slow for even asking. "Oh, right." "We'll pop some popcorn, drink some whiskey and watch the game." "Interesting combo," she commented but agreed to all of it. After hanging up the phone, Hilary stared at it in her hand for a minute before she threw her covers back and stood up from her bed. Walking across the room, she barely had time to reach the door before it was swung open before her. "OK, you have a lot of explaining to do, missy," Lena announced, blocking her exit from her bedroom. Rolling her eyes, Hilary smacked the phone back into her friend's hand before brushing past her. "Can I go to the bathroom first?" she asked. "I promised I'd tell you everything." Lena gave her a stern look but she was still smiling. She nodded and walked down the hallway towards the living room. "Coffee's on," she called over her shoulder. Hilary sighed in relief. She'd need some coffee to get through the day for sure. A few minutes later she was inhaling the potent fumes and settling down on the couch beside her roommate. Lena had her own steaming mug of coffee but she wasn't drinking it; instead she was watching Hilary like a hawk about to swoop in. "Well? Aren't you going to ask me questions?" Hilary asked. "I hardly know where to begin," Lena replied loftily. Hilary laughed and reached out to smack her friend on the arm. "I thought you didn't even like him," Lena said after a moment, getting right to it. "I didn't know him," Hilary replied. And she hadn't. She still didn't, even after the conversations and amazing sex at his place. "And you know him so well now?" Lena asked, as though reading her mind. Flushing, Hilary shook her head. "No. Don't be silly." "But you gave him your number?" Her color deepening, Hilary shook her head again. "Then how did he get it? Why was he calling you first thing in the morning?" Hilary glanced at the clock over the stove and looked back at her friend. "OK, why was he calling you first thing midday?" Lena rephrased the question, drawing laughter from both of them. "He said he got the number from Anatoli," Hilary said. "Ah, I get it," Lena replied with a nod, her smile taking on that special look that she got whenever she thought of her boyfriend. "So why was he calling? You guys couldn't have been talking all that long. I mean, Jane and I had only played one round of pool before you disappeared." Hilary didn't reply right away. She sipped her coffee, hoping she could hide her embarrassment. Lena knew her too well. She took one look at Hilary and her eyes flew wide open. "Hilary Margaret Winsome!" she exclaimed, using her full name and making Hilary laugh. "Did you go home with him?!" Laughing and blushing and still trying to hide behind her coffee mug, Hilary managed to nod in the affirmative. "Oh. My. God." "It's not as bad as it sounds," Hilary protested. "So you didn't sleep with him?" Lena sounded almost hopeful. "Oh, well... uh, not... no, not exactly," Hilary stammered. "You did! Oh my God, you slept with him!" "Jeez, Lena, I don't think the entire building heard you," Hilary hissed at her, lowering her mug and swatting her friend's leg. "You want a bullhorn so you can try again?" Lena met her gaze and then dissolved into giggles. "I'm so happy for you, Hil!" she exclaimed a moment later. "Happy for me? Why?" That was certainly the last thing Hilary had expected her friend to say. "Because you've moved on," Lena explained. "Scott was a jerk and you deserve better. Mark is a great guy and I know Anatoli really likes him." "I haven't exactly moved on, Lena," Hilary protested. "It was one night." "But he called you today," Lena countered. "He must like you." Rolling her eyes, Hilary took another sip of her coffee. She refused to get her hopes up; he was a hockey player, after all. "Sure. He liked me enough to have sex with me since he's stuck in D.C. while his team is off playing games in other cities." "Oh, don't give me that, Hil," Lena said. "Not all hockey players are like that jerk you dated in college." Hilary shrugged, silently informing her that she was reserving judgment until a later date. Lena frowned at her. "Mark's one of the good guys," Lena added when Hilary still didn't say anything. They fell silent for a few minutes and Hilary picked up the remote control to turn on the television. Together they watched the noon meteorologist report on sunny skies with cool temperatures for the rest of the afternoon. "So what was he calling for?" Lena asked, breaking the silence. "He wants me to come over tomorrow night," Hilary answered, knowing she'd have no peace until she told her friend everything. "Hilary! That's great!" Lena exclaimed. Hilary looked over to see her roommate beaming at her. She smiled in reply only to appease Lena. "Don't get too excited, Lena. We're not dating." "Not yet," Lena replied. "Oh, this is so exciting. We can go on double dates now and go to games together..." "We already go to games together," Hilary interrupted. Lena just waved her off and kept talking about all the things they could do together. "Lena, stop. Please, just stop." Her friend looked over at her and closed her mouth to hear what Hilary wanted to say. "Listen, I know you think this is really great but I'm not in a relationship with Mark. We just had one night and yes, I know he just called me, but that doesn't mean this is going to be... something. So can you hold off on telling the world? Please?" Lena studied her face for a long moment, a small frown creasing her forehead but then she nodded. Hilary let out a breath and nodded before leaning forward to embrace Lena. "Thanks, Lena. You're such a great friend to listen." "I know," Lena agreed and they laughed together. In truth, Hilary was scared to death of feeling anything for Mark. He was nice, sure, and an amazing lover but they were in no position to start dating. Hilary had been burned too many times before. She'd go to see Mark the next night and she would keep things light and she'd keep herself from falling for him. *** Mark was struggling with pouring the popcorn into a bowl while balancing on one foot with his crutches tucked under his arms when the buzzer for his front door rang. He promptly dropped the popcorn and bowl on his foot - at least it was a plastic bowl - let a crutch fall and had to grab the counter to remain upright. As he stood there, holding on for dear life, the buzzer rang again and he hobbled over to the speaker to answer it. "Hi, it's Hilary," her sweet voice came through the speaker. "Come on up," he replied and buzzed her in. Then he turned back to his kitchen, wondering if he could possibly clean everything up before she reached his front door. He was just trying to crouch down and pick the bowl up when a knock sounded at the door. Startled, he fell sideways, smacked his elbow on the cupboards and cursed viciously. "Uh, Mark? You OK?" Hilary's voice floated through the door. "Yeah!" he called back and hauled himself back to his feet. In frustration, he chucked the other crutch to the floor and hopped across the kitchen on one foot to answer the door. He met her gaze and smiled but she took one look at him, bracing himself against the wall, his bad foot held above the floor and her eyebrows went up. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded. Blinking, Mark hopped back to let her in. "I'm good, how are you tonight?" he asked instead. "Don't be an idiot," she replied. "You're walking around without your crutches. What, you don't want to get back on the ice as soon as possible? You thought you'd challenge yourself a bit more?" "Whoa, you don't even like hockey so what's the big deal?" he asked, closing the door behind them and following her into the apartment. She'd stopped next to his kitchen and was eyeing the mess. "I never said I don't like hockey," she replied as she took her jacket off. He lifted his eyebrows at her and smirked. She scowled at him. "Do you want some help cleaning this up?" she asked after a moment. "You don't have to help me," he replied. "Oh, please," she said. "You've obviously lost what little sense you have and you need a maid." He chuckled at her playful tone but he liked her suggestion. "Are you offering to be my maid?" When she didn't reply, he tried again. "I think I could find exactly the right kind of uniform for you." She flipped him a nasty look and he just laughed, hopping into the kitchen after her. She bent over to pick up his crutches and he caught them against his stomach as she tossed them his way. "Oof!" he gasped and leaned on one of them. "Why are you so mean tonight?" "I'm not mean," she replied. "You wanted me to come take pity on you, right?" She tossed him a look over her shoulder as she picked up the bowl. "Well, this is me taking pity on you." He smiled as he watched her, swallowing hard when she bent over to start scooping the popcorn back into the bowl. "We're, uh, not going to... eat that, are we?" he asked, nodding his chin at the bowl in her hand. "Of course not," she said. "But how else am I supposed to clean this up?" Wincing, Mark set his crutches down and moved towards her. "Stop, Hilary. You don't have to clean it up." "Who else will do it?" she asked, continuing to grab handfuls of popcorn and place them in the bowl. Mark leaned down to grasp her by the arm. "I'll get my French maid to clean it up." She laughed but straightened under his hand. Setting the bowl on the counter, she lifted her hair off her shoulder and pushed it back from her face. Looking into her deep blue eyes, Mark felt something shift inside him and his groin began to tingle as he recalled the look in her eyes from the other night. She must have seen something in his face because she flushed and tried to move away. He kept a firm grip on her arm though and shifted on his feet just enough so that he had her pinned against the counter. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice soft. "Balancing myself," he replied huskily. She smirked at him but leaned back, arching her front against him. He stifled a groan and slid an arm around her waist to hold on to her. "You need me to balance?" she asked. Her words filtered slowly through his lust-addled brain and he smiled. "For now," he said a second before covering her mouth with his. She gasped into his mouth and he tightened his hold on her, pressing himself against her. He felt her hands land on his biceps, her palms heating his skin through his shirt. Skimming the line of her lips, he silently thanked her when she parted her lips. He swept inside, swirling his tongue around hers and groaning when the hot moisture of her mouth sent all his blood immediately to his groin. He couldn't believe he wanted her so badly. He wasn't the guy who got attached to women. He wasn't a womanizer, really. Just because he had the tattoos and the hair, most people assumed he was but he wasn't. He was just a guy who loved hockey and dated occasionally. No different from most other guys. But here he was, completely at the mercy of a soft set of lips and bottomless sapphire eyes. Wrenching himself away from her lips, he yanked her shirt off over her head. She made a sound of protest but he leaned back in, claiming her lips. Stroking her tongue with his, he felt her surrender once more, sinking into his arms, her hands sliding up to the back of his neck. Little frissons of sensation shot down his spine from where she touched him. With another strangled groan, he drew back just enough to start pulling frantically at the button of her jeans. She gave a light laugh and moved her hands down to do the same to him. Though she abandoned that quickly in favor of running her fingertips along the skin of his abdomen. He froze, distracted utterly by her soft touch. Lifting his face, he met her dark gaze and watched, mesmerized, as her white teeth captured her swollen bottom lip. He leaned close, kissing the mark she left behind by her self-conscious bite and she licked his lips. That brought him right back to his original intention. With renewed meaning, he jerked the button of her jeans free just as she hauled the hem of his shirt up from his waist. Growling in frustration, he leaned back just enough to pull his shirt off and watched with eager eyes as she pushed at the waist of her jeans. He helped her, pulling down on her jeans and panties together until she was standing with only her bra on. "That has got to go," he ordered in a husky voice. Hilary giggled and pointed at the electric blue garment with an innocent expression on her face. He nodded, reaching for the straps. She batted his hand away though and turned slightly, her hip pressing against his straining erection. It was then Mark realized how hard he was breathing. He watched the rise and fall of Hilary's chest and was slightly comforted to see she was at least as affected as he was. Then he saw her undoing the clasp of her bra and she peeled it off with taunting slowness. He followed the movement of her hand discarding the item and felt his desire take hold again. He grasped her hips and turned her right around so she was facing the counter. In the back of his mind, he knew he might pay for this in the morning; or rather, his ankle would pay the price. Still, he wanted her and he was too far gone to stop now. Reaching up, he cupped her breasts and gave them a gentle squeeze. One of her hands lifted to cover his and he jerked his hips against her as her soft fingers slid in between his. Balancing himself as best as he could, he moved one hand back around to undo the fastening of his pants. He wiggled his hips to get his jeans down over his hips and then he heard her suck in a sharp breath as his cock slid against her buttocks. She pushed back just enough that he felt the heat from her body seep through his skin. With one hand still on her breast, he moved his other hand down to feel how ready she was for him. When all he encountered was silken heat, he groaned, burying his face in her shoulder. Her soft honey-colored hair tickled his nose but he didn't care. He was taking hold of himself and guiding his erection to her opening. As he pushed himself in, he felt her tense. His mind was too far gone to even wonder what she was thinking so he pushed again, sliding even deeper. She gave a shudder, moaned and then shoved her body back against him. He took that as a good sign and slid one hand to her hip, digging fingers into her luscious skin as he began to move back and forth. She still held his hand against her breast though her grip had tightened. With each thrust into her welcoming body, he felt her fingers tense around his. Chuckling, he turned his head and blew her hair off her neck, resulting in the most delightful shiver all through her body. He felt it in his groin and pushed harder, moving his other hand down and around her thigh until he was stroking her clit. Opening his mouth on her skin, he sucked on her neck and laved the raised tendon along the side. She groaned, tilting her head to the side to give him better access. All the while, her hips moved back against him in time with his thrusts. They were just hitting a beautiful smooth rhythm when she gave a startled cry and arched. Her lovely breast filled his palm even more but she dropped her hand from his, slapping a palm against the counter as she came. He rocked against her, loving the tightening of her body around him. As she gasped and moaned through her orgasm, he moved his hand down from her breast to grasp her hip. With mostly steady footing, and a firm grip on her body, he began to thrust faster, harder until they were both panting. Then she was reaching back, cupping his ass cheek with one hand before grazing his skin with her nails. Feeling that, coupled with the fluttering of her body around his cock, he came, growling inarticulately into her shoulder as he did. He pushed and pushed until he was almost afraid they'd fall right through the counter. After what felt like an eternity, Mark felt Hilary give a little laugh and he forced himself to lift his head. "What?" he asked, almost sure he'd heard her say something along with the laugh. "The counter is digging into my stomach," she murmured. Cursing, Mark withdrew from her and hopped back a half step so she could move. She did move, sliding around in front of him and circling his shoulders with her arms. Standing on her toes, she kissed him softly. "Do you still need me for balance?" she asked with a smile as she moved back. He gave her a lopsided smile and shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever feel balanced around you again." *** Much later, as they lay entwined on his couch, and after she'd made sure his ankle wasn't too sore, Hilary replayed his earlier words, wondering what he could have meant by them. Then she gave herself a mental slap, telling herself she was turning into one of those silly females who try to read too much into things. Mark was a nice guy and dynamite in the sack; although she had to admit they hadn't even made it to his bed yet, a thought that had her blushing uncontrollably. "Why the color?" Mark asked and pressed a kiss to her overheated cheek. "I'm hot," she lied and laughed as he threw off the blanket they were sharing. "Well, now I'm cold!" she complained. Sighing in mock annoyance, he hauled the blanket back over their naked bodies and moved his leg higher between hers. This he did as he moved a hand down her abdomen until he was teasing the curls at the juncture of her thighs. She sighed happily and let her body relax in his arms. He took the cue and slid his fingers between her thighs, stroking her and stoking the fire yet again. After the 'balancing' act in the kitchen, they'd made love on the couch again before ending up in their current positions while watching the end of the hockey game she'd originally come for. Not that she was complaining; the Caps were winning and she could feel Mark growing hard against her ass again. "You're an animal," she groaned as he gave her a subtle squeeze with gentle, skilled fingers. "And you're my prey," he growled in her ear before nipping her neck. Keeping Ice On The Wound She giggled and turned in his arms, trying to give him a fierce look. "I'm no one's prey," she replied. He merely grinned and kissed her, his tongue and lips drawing such a sigh from her that she ended limp in his arms. "Whether you know it or not," he murmured, brushing kisses along her cheek. "You've already fallen." *** And so it went for the next few days. Hilary, when she wasn't working, would pack a few essential items in her purse and head over to Mark's house. Sometimes they'd get through an entire movie or game before jumping each other. Other times he'd be falling over his crutches trying to get to her. Hilary would be lying if she didn't say she was enjoying this time with him. She was spending very little time at home and Lena was being nice enough to not comment on it. Other than the few brief chats they'd have in between work and passing mugs of coffee, they hadn't been together much. One evening though, Lena was home when Hilary rushed in from the cold, anxious to get changed before heading over to Mark's again. She'd been held up at work and was already late. "Hey Lena!" she called as she raced down the hall to her room. "Hil, slow down!" Lena replied with a laugh. "You have a message on the machine." Hilary laughed and peeked her head back out of her room, looking down the hall to where Lena stood near the kitchen entrance. "Leave it on there," she said. "I'll check it when I get home later." "Uh, you should probably check it now," Lena replied as Hilary ducked back into her room. Something in Lena's tone made Hilary pause in her frantic search for her 'sexy' black lace panties. She dropped the sweater she'd picked up and walked back out and down the hall. She watched Lena's face as she approached and hated the sympathetic look in her eyes. "Who called?" she asked, her finger hovering over the 'play' button on the machine. "Mark," Lena answered and continued speaking before Hilary had a chance to respond. "But don't read too much in to it. I'm sure he means exactly what he says and-" Hilary cut her off with a sharp hand gesture, her heart already sinking into her stomach. She hit 'play' and listened as Mark's deep voice spoke to her. "Hey Hilary, it's me. Listen, I know we were planning to see each other tonight but the guys are back from the road trip and a bunch of them are hanging out here now. I don't think you'd like to be here with them here as well. So why don't we get together tomorrow? Coach wants me at practice even though I can't skate but we can hook up after that. Call me when you get in." Hilary punched the 'erase' button and spun away from the machine without a word. "Hilary, stop," Lena spoke up, following her down the hallway to her bedroom. "He's telling the truth. The players are all back and they're not leaving him alone. Anatoli told me as much when I talked to him earlier." Laughing mirthlessly, Hilary turned to face her roommate. "It's fine, Lena," she assured her. "I never expected this... this... whatever this is between us to last forever. It's just a fling." "If it was just a fling, he wouldn't have called to reschedule," Lena replied, a frown marring her face. Sighing, Hilary walked over to her desk chair and sat down. "So he still wants to get some action. Big deal. It just has to wait for a more convenient time." "God, Hil, don't do this," Lena said as she began to pace the floor in front of her. "You can't just assume he's the same sort of jackass as that guy from college or Scott or Hugh. Maybe he really likes you and wants to see more of you." "Then he could have just let me come over and I guess I would have had to deal with meeting his friends," Hilary replied, still reeling from his message. She didn't want to admit how much it hurt. This was easier; telling herself that she just didn't care. "Would you have?" Lena asked. "Would I what?" "Have dealt with meeting his friends? All his friends and teammates all at once?" Hilary hesitated before answering. She supposed it did sound rather daunting. "Didn't you?" "I didn't meet them all at once, are you kidding?" Lena laughed and plopped down on Hilary's bed. "Anatoli introduced me to a few at a time. Most of them knew who I was before I met them, which helped but he would never spring them all on me at once. That's exactly what Mark is doing too." Shrugging, Hilary shifted on her chair, uncomfortable with the entire conversation. It had barely been a week since she'd met Mark and she was already tangled up more than she'd wanted to be. "Please, just don't shut him out, Hilary," Lena spoke again and Hilary looked over at her. "He's nice guy and I still think he was telling the truth on the phone. He just didn't want you to get freaked out by going over there and seeing them all." Hilary had to admit it sounded reasonable. If the situation were reversed, she was certain Mark would nervous to meet every friend of hers. "You'd better call him back," Lena said and stood up. "Since you're so late getting home, he's probably in a panic that you might still show up there." Hilary had to smile at the image. She might not know him so well yet but he didn't strike her as the type to panic. She followed Lena out to the front room to retrieve the cordless phone before heading back to her bedroom to call Mark. "Hello?" someone strange answered the phone and for a second, Hilary was thrown. "Hello?" the man on the other end tried again and Hilary could hear a lot of noise in the background; a television, deep laughter and shouts. "Uh, hi," she said finally, clearing her throat when it came out a little hoarse. "Hi. Is Mark there?" "Yeah," the man replied. "Hey, is this his lady?" he asked before passing the phone. Hilary blushed, which she knew was stupid since no one was in the room with her. "I guess so," she replied. The man hooted with laughter before shouting for Mark. "Awesome," the man said to her. "I was hoping you'd call. I wanted to tell you about him." Hilary laughed. She wondered just what this guy would tell her about Mark. "Who are you, anyway?" she asked instead. He laughed again before telling her. "I'm Drew Stamenski. I play with Mark on the team." "I know who you are," Hilary replied, picturing his face as she spoke. "I follow hockey a little bit." "Cool," Drew said and shouted for Mark again. In the background, Hilary heard a few other guys take up the call, some of them adding in kissing noises when Drew said it was his girlfriend. She decided to ignore the moniker for now, telling herself it didn't mean he'd given her the label. Finally the phone was passed with some muffled cursing and more boisterous laughter. "Hello?" Mark's voice came over the line, instantly making Hilary relax. "Hi," she replied shyly. "Hilary!" he exclaimed and sighed. "I'm so glad you called." "Are you?" she asked, striving for playful. "Of course-" he started to reply but someone shouted from nearby, something that sounded like "I can't believe you think he's hot!" Hilary laughed and shook her head. It was a small relief to know that his teammates sounded like typical guys. "Ignore that," Mark grumbled into the phone. "So you got my message?" "Yeah, I just got home a few minutes ago," Hilary said. "Sorry I'm so late." "Oh, don't worry about it. I'm just sorry I had to cancel." You didn't have to cancel, she thought unkindly but didn't say it out loud. "It's all right. I'm kind of beat anyway. It was a long day." There was a pause before Mark replied. "I was really looking forward to seeing you," he said in a lower tone. "I could have helped you unwind." The low tone of voice mingled with the noise in his apartment made Hilary smile. She could almost picture some of the guys trying to eavesdrop on his conversation, which would explain his low voice. "I can unwind without worrying about you falling over every other second," she replied. He laughed, the sound sending a shiver down Hilary's back. She squeezed the phone and closed her eyes, willing her body to calm the hell down. There was a good chance she'd never see Mark again. His team was back and if she recalled the schedule correctly, they were in town for nearly two weeks straight. She also remembered Lena being especially excited about that. "Are you working tomorrow?" Mark asked. "I'm not on the schedule," she replied honestly. "You want to come over around four then?" he suggested. "I'll make dinner and we can watch a movie. Your choice." "Dinner and a movie? Wow, I feel so privileged." Hilary winced even as she spoke the words. They sounded terribly sarcastic to her. "You should," he agreed, obviously not hearing the same thing she had in her tone. Someone else shouted in the background and there was more laughter. "Oh crap," Mark breathed. "I should go." "Yeah, you should!" someone shouted close enough to the phone that Hilary recognized his voice. "Tell Obie to back off and leave you alone or I'll sic Lena on him," Hilary suggested. Mark paused before answering. "Uh, you sure?" Hilary recalled then that they hadn't discussed telling others about them. She'd told Lena obviously and her friend would never gossip about her, even with Anatoli. Hilary had not considered what it would mean if Mark told everyone on the team about her. She suspected he didn't want to deal with the good-natured ribbing. Or he doesn't want anyone to know he's sleeping with me, she added silently and cringed at how negative that sounded. Mark was still waiting for a response. "Uh, you can if you want," she replied feebly. "I have to go." "All right," Mark agreed but sounded surprised. "I'll call you tomorrow when I get home from practice." "OK. Bye," Hilary replied and hung up before they said anything else. She stared at the phone in her hand, feeling strange about the conversation, about the entire situation. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you went home from the bar with him, she admonished herself. It's just plain stupid to have any expectations now. With a sigh, she threw the phone down on her bed and walked out to join Lena in the living room. *** Mark felt like a world-class heel when he got home from practice the following day. Not only was he not going to be able to keep his promise of dinner and a movie to Hilary but he wasn't even going to be able to see her. This was going on two days without seeing each other and Mark was beginning to feel like he was missing some vital part of his anatomy. It was ridiculous considering that they'd only met a few days ago but it was how he felt. "You really don't have to stay with me, Brody," Mark said to his teammate, Brody Lang, as the other man helped him into his apartment. "I can manage on my own, have been all week." Brody just laughed at him and swung the door inward. "I live in the same building," he said. "It's not like I have far to go. Plus I think Drew and Tolya are coming over in a bit too. Oh and Chris said he'd come by as well." Mark barely managed to stifle his groan of frustration. He knew his teammates meant well and were feeling guilty about his injury. They shouldn't and he'd told them several times but they still wouldn't leave him alone, even when he'd told them he wanted to have his 'lady' friend over. He'd hesitated at labeling her as his girlfriend, especially since he didn't even know how she felt about him. God, he thought with a rueful shake of his head. I sound like a female, wondering about our relationship status and whether or not she really likes me. Even so, he smiled at the thought. Thinking of Hilary always brought a smile to his lips. She was just so fun and sexy and he couldn't get enough of her. He only hoped he could maintain whatever sort of relationship they had once he was recovered from his injury and playing full time again. Brody followed him into the apartment, immediately making himself comfortable on Mark's plush couch. The TV came on and Brody changed the channel to the cooking network. The man had a weird obsession with all things culinary. Not that Mark complained much; they'd even been roommates at one time and Brody had made every meal spectacular. "I just need to make a phone call," Mark said to Brody and picked up the cordless receiver as he hobbled through his apartment. "Sure, sure," Brody called back as Mark disappeared into his bedroom. "You know, you're going to have to let us meet her sometime!" Mark responded by slamming his bedroom door. He dialed the number he knew by heart now as he tossed his crutches beside the bed and sat down. Lena answered the phone. "Hi Mark," she greeted him in a friendly voice. "How was practice?" "Haven't you talked to Obie about it already?" Mark replied. Practice had been difficult, to say the least. Not because he'd worked hard but because he'd been forced to sit there and watch, weighed down with envy as his buddies skated around and shot pucks at the nets. Lena laughed. "I did but he just said you were sulking all morning," she told him. "Oh great," Mark muttered and rubbed his eyes. "You mind keeping that to yourself?" "Of course. You want to talk to Hilary?" "Please." A minute later, Hilary's sweet voice filled his ear and Mark shifted his position as his groin tingled in response. "Hey there," he said. "Hi, how was practice?" she asked. In the background he heard her shut a door and then there was some rustling, like she was sitting down. "It sucked, but that's OK," he replied honestly. "Oh," was all Hilary said and she waited patiently for him to elaborate. Heaving out a deep breath, Mark flopped back on his bed and began to tell her why it sucked. "I hate having to just watch things. I wanted to be down on the ice so bad it hurt. Coach and everyone thought it would be good for me to observe and stay sharp but I really just wanted to throw something at them because I was so miserable." "Oh Mark, I'm so sorry." Hilary's voice was sympathetic and he was so grateful for understanding. "That would be hard, not being able to do what you love." "Yeah, it was," he agreed wholeheartedly. "But enough about me. How was your day?" "Pretty uneventful. Lena had to work this morning so it was just me. I cleaned the kitchen, did some laundry and watched TV." "Sounds great," Mark said. "Liar," Hilary replied with a laugh that had more blood surging to his groin. "So what time do you want me to come over?" she asked. "I have some more bad news, Hil," he answered and glared at the wall separating him from his teammate. "The guys are hanging out here again tonight so we'll have to reschedule." "Again?" she asked softly and Mark couldn't quite make out her tone. He didn't know if she was ticked off, hurt or indifferent. "I'm sorry," he replied. "I promise to make it up to you." "Sure," she said and this time Mark heard the tension in her voice. "I should go. You have a good night with the guys." "Hilary?" he spoke her name, hoping he'd get her before she hung up on him. "Yeah?" "I will make it up to you, I swear. I'll call you tomorrow morning." "I have to work," she replied shortly. "OK, then you can call me when you get home." She agreed but Mark wasn't sure if she even meant it. So they hung up and Mark lay there in his dim bedroom until Brody pounded on the wall and told him to get his ass out there. *** Hilary called him the next day but there was no answer so she left a message on his machine. Then she waited for him to call back. He didn't that night, nor did he call her the next day. She wasn't about to call him again and make herself into one of those needy, clingy women who called a man five times a day. So she went to work, chatted with her friends and tried not to think about him. Lena coaxed her into watching a couple of the Caps' games on television but she couldn't get into it. She kept hearing Mark's voice over and over, telling her how much he hated to sit on the bench while his team skated without him. She also didn't want to catch sight of him on camera with some sexy centerfold arm-piece who was his public girlfriend. It was completely crazy but she couldn't help herself or stop the thoughts from entering her mind. Finally one night after the second home game since she'd last seen Mark, he called her. Lena was out for a late, late dinner with Anatoli and Hilary was home alone with the trashiest romance novel she had been able to find in the store. She was so lost in the descriptions of Susannah and Jack's wild lovemaking that when the phone rang, she didn't bother to check the caller ID before answering. "Hello?" "Hilary, it's me," Mark said and she dropped her book. "I'm so glad you're still awake." "Oh, hi," Hilary replied, leaning down to scoop her book back up. "Hi," Mark said with a laugh. "Did I catch you at a bad time?" "No, Jack was just about done," Hilary replied absent-mindedly as she flipped through the pages to find her lost spot. "Who the hell is Jack?" Mark demanded and this time it was Hilary who laughed. "No one," she replied, going for mysterious. "What's up?" Mark didn't say anything for a second and Hilary wondered if he'd hung up on her. "Mark?" "I'm just wondering if you wanted to come over," he said. "Tonight? It's already after ten," Hilary replied with a quick glance at the clock over the stove. "And I realize that made me sound like an eighty year old but I have an early morning shift." "You can go to work from here," Mark suggested. "Just bring a change of clothes." "I'd love to, Mark, but I really need to rest," she lied. She didn't need rest. She badly needed to put some distance between her and this injured hockey player so she wouldn't end up falling in love and nursing a broken heart in another month. "Oh come on, Hil," he scoffed at her, not buying her weak excuse. "If you don't come over here, I'll just come to your place." "You don't even know where I live," Hilary replied. "I can just get a ride with Obie," Mark told her. "I know he's seeing Lena tonight so I'll get him to drop me off when he picks her up." "Nice try, genius, but he's already been to pick her up," Hilary said. "They've been gone for twenty minutes." "Shit," Mark swore and Hilary couldn't help but laugh at his tone. "I really want to see you, Hilary." Her body reacted to his deep voice and she cursed herself for it. "I don't think we... need to do this anymore." "Do what? What are you talking about?" "Mark, come on. We both know this wasn't going anywhere. I had fun with you and it was great but you don't want to be in a relationship with me." "Interesting. Would you mind telling me why I wouldn't?" His voice was no longer warm and inviting. Instead he sounded colder and if Hilary didn't know better, she'd say he sounded hurt. "Mark, don't do this. We're both adults and we had a fling. Like I said, it was great but we need to get real." "What is real?" he demanded and she heard him exhale. "And I don't mean that in a philosophical way. I want to know what you're talking about. I want to see you. I've always wanted to see you. I've never thought of this as a fling." "Yeah, right," Hilary replied sarcastically before she could stop herself. She bit her lip when she heard Mark's muttered oath. "Why don't you believe me?" "Because you're a hockey player!" Hilary burst out, unable to hide from her prejudices any longer. "If you weren't injured, you wouldn't have given someone like me a second look. You travel with the team and meet women from all over the country. Why would you ever want to be with someone like me?" "Is that what you really think, Hilary?" he asked after a moment of silence.