Friday, October 14, 2011
On the car ride back to our house, you could cut the tension with a knife. I got a glimpse of the real Rae for about 5 minutes in the parking lot, and ever since then she's been self conscious and doubting herself. She sat quietly, toying with her wedding ring under the table that is her 'give' that she's upset, while other customers looked over at us. Of course, you have the ones that gawk, but I've gotten use to that. What I don't understand is how she hasn't adjusted to all of this with me. She met me right when I got into the league and I just would have thought that by now, she would have transformed under the pressure like I think I have. I try to remind myself that I had hype to live up to before I met her though, so I keep reminding myself of that difference. It does nothing to calm my nerves though as I notice that my grip on the steering wheel has my knuckles turning white.
After pulling the car into the garage, we both slip out of the car in silence. I take a deep breath, knowing that my pissy attitude won't help get through to her anymore. I extend my hand to her, and she grabs onto it almost like she'd fall down if she didn't have it for support. And this is what I don't understand.. does she not know that I love her?
For two weeks after we kissed, I had not seen a glimpse of Rae. But fortunately for today, she wouldn't be able to avoid me. Because she had been handling her internship so well she had been given some more freedom; and that today entailed watching over media sessions today. Normally, I just try to give the reporters what they want to hear so I can get out of there as soon as possible, but today I find myself dragging it out, making sure that I'm the last one in the room. I have to talk to her. That's all there is to it.
As everyone else shimmies out of the room, I find her shifting in the corner, watching over the reporters around me, making sure that they don't cross any lines, but I know that she's uncomfortable with the fact that after they all leave we will be the only ones in the room.
I don't think their timing could be any more perfect as the rest of the reporters leave the room one by one, leaving me and her alone. After the lats one exits the door, she gives me a faint smile before heading for the door herself.
"Am I that bad of a kisser?" I shout out to her while starting to untie make skates, knowing this is the best chance I'll get for alone time with her. She turns around, obviously surprised at my statement by the look on her face so I give her a big grin to let her know I'm kidding. She relaxes a little bit but doesn't take a step farther into the room.
"You could use some work," she jokes back, flashing me a glimpse of her bright smile. "I'm guessing you want to talk about it?" she asks, biting on her lip and making me wonder if that's a nervous habit of hers.
"Come on," I reply with a nod of my head, indicating she can come sit in the stall next to me. She walks over to me in those heels that make her legs look miles long and sits down but doesn't say a word more. I stand up, continuing taking off my gear until her eyes finally meet mine and it puts a smile on my face.
"Sid," she starts out while shaking her head, "as your lawyer, this can't happen," she continues while waving her hand in between the two of us to indicate 'us'.
"But that's the glory in all of this, you aren't actually my lawyer because you aren't actually a lawyer yet, you're still finishing law school," I use as my rebuttal.
"Same difference," she replies with a shrug of her shoulders before reaching up and pressing her glasses up further on her nose. "Surely you see the millions of reasons this can't happen."
Her words make my response match her previous one as I shrug my shoulders and take my jersey and shoulder pads off, relishing in the fact that I can feel her eyes on me.
"And this has to stop too," she growls while gesturing to my shirtless body before blushing and turning her head away. "This is my career you're toying with."
"I'm not trying to toy with anything," I shrug but she doesn't seem so convinced. "It just seems like under all these business suits and proper etiquette you're real down to earth." Her nose scrunches up in response.
"There's nothing wrong with the way I dress, Crosby," she states while standing up, giving me a good chance to give her a once over which makes her blush once again.
"I never said there was," I chuckle as she starts to head towards the door. "You don't even want to be my friend, Rae?" I add, making her turn on her heels and stare at me.
"I don't know that that's possible," she says evenly.
"Why?" I prompt.
"Because I'll always want more," she concludes before giving me a once over for a change and making me blush before leaving.
As soon as we close the door behind us I press her up against it, bringing her lips down to mine. She timidly kisses me back, pulling back after a couple of seconds to look me in the eyes.
"Am I that bad of a kisser?" I smirk.
"You could use some work," she giggles before jumping up into my arms and wrapping her legs around me as I head toward our bedroom.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Well jmard, looks like it's just me and you. :) At least someone is reading though, right? Idk, this story... it has me interested in writing again. It doesn't seemed forced for the first time in a LONG time.
I trudge upstairs and jump into the shower, rinsing off quickly, knowing I don't have a lot of time. As I'm turning off the water I hear the bathroom door open and then close, and I know that Sid's waiting on me. I reach for my towel, wrapping my hair up into it before stepping out of the shower. I see him standing there, arms crossed against his chest as he leans on the counter. He gives me the once over, looking me up and down before approaching me, almost like he has to. He unwraps my hair, making it fall down around my shoulders before taking the towel and starting to dry me off. He gets all the way down to my toes before he brings the towel back up before draping it over my shoulders and then uses the edges of the towel to bring me to him.
I collide with his body, but don't have a chance of falling; his strong arms are more than enough support for me. He looks down at me quizzically and it's at this point that I almost ask him to say whatever is on my mind, but I don't have the chance to before he lightly presses his lips to mine.
"Let's have a good day," he whispers against my lips while leaning down and giving my butt an aggressively firm grab, making me squeal in return.
"I'm more concerned with having a good night," I purr suggestively, toying with him for a moment before strutting out of the bathroom to go put clothes on.
Whenever I get into my closet and start grabbing clothes is when the anxiety comes over me. There is just something about sitting next to him, trying to be the doting wife that sets off the feeling of nausea. And do not mistake me, it has nothing to do with sitting next to him, I love him and prefer to spend most of my time with him. It's the fact that we're being watched, that we're the center of attention that gets to me.
And yes, this is definitely something I took into consideration when I married him, and I know it's something that I'm always going to have to deal with. Even after he's retired, his face is still going to be well know. And I've tried so hard to try and adjust, to try and sit next to him and smile, but it is so much harder than anyone could imagine; especially knowing they all want him and maybe even have dreams about him at nothing while loathing my form.
Quickly slipping on my shoes I run a brush through my hair before applying light make up and head downstairs to find Sid waiting.
Before I know it, we're pulling up next to Jordan's escalade. I start to get out of the car and it's no sooner than when Sid gets out of his side, cap pulled low and glasses on, that the first teenage girl has spotted him and is squealing from across the road. Sid comes around the car, grabbing my hand in his and pulls me close.
"Just like it's you a me," he whispers, telling me to ignore anyone else we see today before tipping my chin up and giving me the lightest peck on the lips, all that is normally allowed in public, but still making my heart beat double time, just like it always has.
"I'm heading home, just run this down and have him sign it and go ahead and file it," Larry calls as he heads out of the door.
I sigh, suddenly wondering if I work for Sidney Crosby or the Pittsburgh Penguins. As I gather the paperwork I can't help but feel sorry for him. He's got contracts to sign here, events to attend there; the poor guy definitely couldn't have time for himself. I should know, because I would say that at least 15% of his time is spend with me signing his life away for whatever "precaution" his agent is trying to take for him. And I understand it, I do; he's worth a lot of money. But never in my life did I think that it would mean that EVERY part of his life had to be documented. Hell, I'm surprised they don't document his input and output levels at the rate he's going.
And since he's spent quite a bit of time with me worrying about all his legal problems, I've gotten to know him a little bit, but not on a personal level of course. And I don't mean to sound aggravated; if anyone should be pissed about doing so much paperwork it should be him. He never signed up for this, and on the other hand this is my job, BUT he is quite a bit to handle.
And I suppose the only reason I should be aggravated is because I'm more aware of him than I should be of any client or person I work with. But there is just something about him, about the way he carries himself that has me running in the other direction. I try to keep things strictly professional, but I find my mind wandering sometimes. And when I mean aware of him, I mean physically aware. It seems almost humanly impossible to me that an 18 year old can possess the body of a Greek God, but the more times I see him the more often I'm found finding comparisons between the two.
I head on down to the training room, knowing I'll find him there. He's always there so much longer than anyone else that it doesn't surprise me at all to find him the only one in there, slaving away on a bike. He sees me approaching and smirks to himself before climbing off. 'Crap, does he know I appreciate his efforts?' I think to myself.
"Hey Sid, just have a couple more papers for you to sign," I say while entering the room. He nods his head in understanding before taking his shirt off and wiping the sweat off his forehead with it. While he's taking it off I get a good chance to look over his sculpted abdomen and I know I shouldn't stare any longer, so instead I head over to the closest table and turn my back toward him. "Last ones of the day, I promise," I call over my shoulder, trying to get my focus where it needs to be.
"What are they for?" he asks, catching me off guard. Most of the time, players just sign on the dotted line as told; after all, we are here to advise them. But even more than him going out of his way to ask, he seems genuinely curious. I turn around, only to find his broad chest right in front of my face, making me stagger backwards from his proximity. I try to shake it off, but his closeness has me all kinds of flustered. I take a deep breath, trying to get my wits about me.
"This one is for your new commercial," I start while pointing to the document on the left, trying not to enjoy the way his body is almost hovering over mine. Surely he doesn't know what he's doing to me? "And this one is for Dick's Sporting Goods, just assuring them that you will be there on the 11th to sign some autographs in the store."
"What, do people not take someone for their word anymore?" he chuckles before flashing me his 100 watt of a smile and then picking up the pen to sign.
"No, I'm afraid not," I reply, trying to fill the silence between us.
"You would think they could trust a "Good ol' Canadian Boy," he returns, his face turning up in disgust at the nickname he had been coined with a long time ago. I gather the papers, pinning them to my side before turning around again and almost wondering if he'd moved even closer to me. All I know is that at this distance, I can't help but look at those luscious, bubble gum pink lips of his.
And then, things start to take on a dream like state. The next thing I know, he's bending down towards me and tentatively pressing his lips to mine. I can hear my brain screaming back somewhere in my level of consciousness that this is wrong, that we can't be doing this, but at the same time it's as if his lips are coated with crack and I'm the biggest drug addict there is and I just can't get enough. I press my lips harder against his, increasing the electric current flowing from him to me. He moves closer to me, pressing me back against the table until we hear the opening of doors and both scurry away from one another. I catch my breath quickly before trying to get my shit together as Mario walks through the door.
"Sid, there you are," he greets while lumbering toward us. "Austin's game starts in an hour. Good morning, Rae," he adds while tipping his head down toward me.
"Good morning yourself, Mario," I return while starting toward the door. "Thanks for signing these, Sid," I continue while gesturing to the papers before turning on my heels and almost sprinting toward the door. What the HELL was that?
I remember the very first time Sid made my heart flutter, and as his big bear paw of a hand grasps mine tightly as we walk toward the restaurant I think to myself that I feel the same way now even after 3 years of marriage and as I look up at him and smile, I can only hope that that never changes.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Sorry for the wait. There is no apology big enough to make up for a year of no posts. :|
Tuesday finally comes, and I'm thrilled to get back home after two good, solid wins. Sometimes I wish things were like they use to be with Rae getting to come along to all the road games, but naturally that had to come to an end. She was given an ultimatum; keeping her internship, or me. I was of course overjoyed when she picked me.
Sometimes, I couldn't help but wonder if she ever resented me for it. Don't get me wrong, I love Rae and I know that she loves me, but when I first met her she was going places. At the age of 22 she had gotten an internship in the Penguins legal department, of course bringing her to me. Never again in my life do I ever think I will thank a cop as much as I do for that day.
I could hear Pat mumbling underneath his breath as I followed him through the doors to legal, who I know wouldn't be impressed either. Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have been driving quite so fast, but I had my reasons. One thing was certain though, I was NEVER going to admit to driving so fast because even though I'd been in town for months I still got lost and because of that I was running late. I'm conjuring the biggest lie I can think of when I finally spot my eyes on her.
She's standing behind Larry, the normal guy I deal with for things like this, with her notebook clutched close to her chest with a pen in her hand, ready to take notes at any given minute. She's absolutely breath-taking. She's wearing a tight high waisted pencil skirt that leaves nothing to my imagination with a loose green blouse that is tucked in with a jacket over it. I look down and she's got the tallest high heels I think I've ever seen before and my mouth automatically goes dry. After taking inventory I look back up at her pretty face framed with glasses; at how her luscious brown hair is gently pulled back from her face. It's then that I notice her electric green eyes, focusing on me. That's when I realize I've totally just checked her out up and down, and everyone in the room has noticed. I clear my throat, hoping that my face doesn't turn red.
"We have a little bit of a problem," Pat says, starring directly at me while talking to Larry. "It seems there has been a little bit of a miscommunication."
"Don't give that line of bullshit to me, Pat," Larry laughs. "What has the boy done now?"
GREAT! Not only does he call me boy in that condescending tone, but he makes it sound like I'm just such an issue. I can almost feel my checks want to flame red again. Pat cuts the crap and answers him.
"He was going 85 mph in a 70 speed limit. He got pulled over and got a ticket. I need it to disappear. It's not going to look good if 'The Boy Wonder' has a need for speed. What part of that says good ol' canadian boy?" Pat asks. When nobody replies he answers himeself, "nothing."
"Well Pat, I'm actually headed out to lunch. But this is something that Rae should be able to handle," Larry sighs nonchalantly while gesturing to the goddess behind him. "She's my new intern, and she needs all the practice she can get."
A few more comments are made bewteen Pat and Larry but I can't focus on them, I'm too busy looking at her again. She has a mousy look about her, and I like it. Before I know it the two men are walking out of the door and Rae is sitting down in the big chair at the desk.
"Take a seat if you'd like, Mr. Crosby," she says while placing the sweetest smile on her face.
"You can call me Sidney or Sid if you want," I reply with a smile. "Mr. Crosby is my dad." And suddenly I'm mortified again. I literally want to kick myself as the number one rule of talking to older girls flashes into my mind; never talk about your parents.
"Alright, Sidney," she says with a chuckle before looking down at the ticket the police officer issued me. "85 in a 70, huh? Why so fast?"
"I was in a bit of a hurry," I mumble. "I was running late."
"Oversleep?" she questions, which is yes, the most logical answer. It actually sounds plausible.
"Not exactly," I answer. And suddenly I'm pissed at myself, because it was a good lie and I ruined it for myself all because I can't seem to make myself lie to her. She seems too pure for that, almost like she'd be able to decipher any lie I told her anyways. "I got lost," I continue, feeling as if I need to explain myself. She looks up at me so I go on. "I've only been in town a couple of months and I'm still getting use to things I guess," I add on, adverting my gaze to the floor.
"I know. Congratulations on going first in the draft," she replies with a genuine smile. "Now, about this ticket," she continues, looking back at the evidence of my speeding issue while her brow creases in concentration.
I can only think to myself, 'Oh man, I'm in trouble.'
I slide out of my car, grabbing the single flower I bought for her before returning home and head into the house.
"Rae?" I call out after dropping my bag by the door. When she doesn't answer I know she's got to be downstairs. I jog down the stairs, taking two at a time. When I finally reach the bottom I see her jogging on the treadmill, ear phones in place while watching Ellen.
I walk up behind her, turning the treadmill off and relishing when I see her eyes light up.
"You're home," she squeaks while taking her head phones out and jumping into my arms. I hug her, holding her close and taking in the sent of her apple scented hair. She pulls back and gives me a kiss and I feel that tingle deep in my chest every time her lips touch mine.
"For my lady," I offer in a gentlemanly tone while holding up the flower to her.
"Oh Sidney," she gushes, taking it from me and jumping back into my arms. "I've missed you," she says while pressing her lips to mine again. "I haven't had anyone to snuggle with at night," she pouts, running her arms down and over my biceps. I flex for good measure and I can see the desire seeping into her eyes. As much as I'd love nothing more than to drag her upstairs and have my way with her, I also know that we'd be late. She kisses me again before planting a line of kisses down my neck while her hands slip into the front pockets of my jeans, hungrily pulling me closer.
"Babe," I start while she continues her assault on my neck. "We'll be late if you keep this up," I growl.
"Late where?" she asks, looking up at me with those glasses on with a mischievous look on her face, automatically making my dick get hard.
"We're going out with the guys for lunch, remember?" Automatically I feel her stiffen in my arms; she didn't remember.
"Oh," she replies, obviously disappointed. "Okay, let me go get changed." She starts to walk away from me but I pull her back in for another kiss.
"Are you okay?" I question, knowing what she'll say.
"Of course," she replies with a forced smile. "I don't care if we spend the afternoon with the guys."
She says she doesn't care, but her eyes tell a different story.