The Ice, The Game, The Touch

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Woman meets younger hockey star.
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MugsyB
MugsyB
2,722 Followers

I first wrote and submitted this story on-line back at the beginning of the Stanley Cup Playoffs in 2009. Since then, I've revised and tweaked it into this version.

It's the same story though, with the same 'mystery' man (see if you can figure out who it is!) Once again, I know nothing about what hockey players do in their down time or how they are in real life. This is all make believe.

Happy Reading!

M. ;)

***

Winter snow flying meant Amelia fled south. She usually headed right for the southern tip of Florida, but since the winter had started so mildly this year, she decided to take her time, touring along the East Coast. She started by flying from her hometown of Winnipeg to Fredericton, in New Brunswick. She joined a bus tour there that would take her down through Maine and straight on to New York. From there she'd probably travel by train south to Washington D.C. The weather along the coast could be just as vicious as Winnipeg's at times but it didn't seem to happen as quickly.

Somehow, she didn't mind the weather so much when she was traveling, seeing the sites and writing wherever and whenever she chose to. Her sole companion on these southern trips was her laptop and she was content.

So what if she'd had to leave her husband of five years in order to find contentment? Even if that 'contentment' wasn't quite what she thought she'd be feeling at nearly thirty years of age. She definitely hadn't thought she'd be alone while feeling it. Being alone wasn't really a concern either. She just enjoyed the time she had to herself; time to write, to read and just to be quiet at times.

Then there were times when her libido would rear it's head and make it absolutely impossible to think of anything else. Times like those, she wished she was in her hometown where she had at least had a couple men she could call to help with her... needs.

For now, it was a dull sensation in the back of her mind as she watched the landscape of Maine rush past outside the bus window. In a short while she'd be into New Hampshire. She was tossing around the idea of just catching a flight straight to New York from there. At least in that big city she could distract herself from her sudden thoughts of loneliness.

Is it even loneliness? she wondered and sighed, turning her face away from the rainy landscape outside the bus. Maybe I'm just tired of traveling.

She often thought about just settling down in one of the many places she loved to visit. Somewhere far enough away from Winnipeg that she wouldn't be constantly reminded of her failed marriage. Then she became frustrated that she still let that episode in her life dictate so much of what she did now.

"Stop it, Amelia," she muttered to herself.

She pushed it out of her mind and tried not to let it cloud the trip she was on now. The eighty-three year old woman next to her jerked in her sleep and started snoring against Amelia's shoulder. Grimacing, Amelia edged herself away from the older woman and sighed, trying to get comfortable.

***

It was a hard game. By the time it ended, he never wanted to see or touch his skates again. Then as soon as he walked away from the arena, he longed to get back on the ice and figure out what he'd done wrong and how to improve it.

The entire time he was away from the ice he thought about the ice. The entire time he was on the ice, he thought about the game and how to win. The other guys on the team razzed him about how his mind was constantly on hockey, especially when he woke up on the bus or on the plane shouting something about passing or shooting the puck.

He didn't care what anyone thought. He lived hockey and it was OK.

Except for the times he was feeling lusty.

He cringed as they sat in waiting area of the airport and glanced around to see if anyone was looking in his direction. His cheeks flushed and he berated himself silently for even thinking something like that. Men like him didn't think of sex in terms like 'lusty.' Besides the guys harassing him about him talking in his sleep, they also harassed him about his constant reading. What they didn't know was that he read books and magazines in an endless effort to keep his mind from wandering aimlessly. It would lead him to think about women.

He couldn't afford those kinds of distractions. Not when this was the year. This was the year the team was going to make it to the playoffs and the finals. In less than ten months, he'd be hoisting the Stanley Cup over his head as the fans screamed in excitement.

Maybe he was selfish to think of it that way, but he honestly didn't care. He shifted in the tiny uncomfortable airport seat and adjusted the magazine in his hand. At the moment he wasn't reading but it kept his mind occupied. He seemed to need it since his mind was currently wandering off on lusty thoughts.

He kicked himself mentally and slapped the magazine down on his lip with a frustrated sigh. The player sitting across from him glanced up and quirked an eyebrow at him.

"You all right Sean?" he asked with a smirk.

"I'm fine," Sean replied, not meeting the other man's eyes.

Chuckling, his teammate shifted in his seat. "At least you didn't yell at me to pass you the puck," he commented, turning his attention back to the newspaper he was holding.

"Bite me, Flower," Sean snapped and stood up.

He needed to go for a walk. Yes, that would help. A walk around the strangely quiet airport would clear his mind.

Oh wow, she's cute, he thought after a minute as he passed by a petite brunette. He slowed his pace and turned casually to watch as she strolled by. Then he spotted the child running after her, crying for his mother.

As Sean looked on, the woman turned and held a hand out, a patient smile on her face, as the child hurried to catch up. Thumb in mouth, the boy clutched her hand and trailed after her as she continued through the airport.

Sighing, Sean shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and turned to keep strolling. He spotted more good-looking women, some alone, some with husbands or boyfriends and while he felt that familiar twinge, he didn't feel drawn to them. It always seemed to be this way. He'd feel the physical urges and seek out a woman only to feel like something was always missing. He'd enjoy himself, that was certain, and the women were generally pleased to be with a professional hockey player. However, after the first few hook-ups of that sort, he didn't find it so enthralling as he once had.

He hated to admit it to himself, mostly because it was such a cliche, but he truly wanted to find someone who didn't think of him as a hockey player first. He also knew what a contradiction that was, since his entire life revolved around the game.

Maybe that's why, he thought. I've been focusing so much on the game so that I don't have to think about women.

Then he thought, Great, something else for the guys to give me a hard time about.

With a heavy sigh, he turned and started to make his way back to the waiting area outside the team's departure gate.

***

New York was windy and kind of cloudy but Amelia was content to sit in the Starbucks and watching the people walk by on the street outside. She smiled as a particularly ornery teenager argued with her mother over something. The teenager effectively ended the conversation by walking away and the mother shook her head, throwing her hands up in the air before striding after the girl.

Shaking her own head, Amelia lifted her mug and sipped her latte. Then she breathed deeply, trying to refocus her attention on the computer screen before her. The words blurred and she sighed before reaching up to close the laptop. Then she just sat back in her seat and resigned herself to some serious people watching. Sometimes all it took was a little distraction to get her head back into whatever story she was working on.

Occasionally, the distractions proved to be too much. Like the tall, dark-haired, incredibly built man who walked into the coffee shop.

Yes, she thought, unaware that she was holding her breath. He is most definitely distracting.

She watched, unabashed as he walked up to the counter and smiled at the young woman working the till.

He was tall, probably just under six feet, and his shoulders were nice and wide. Although he was dressed casually, it was far from sloppy; well-fitting jeans and a white button-up shirt. He wore a fitted dark suede jacket and black shoes. His hair was very dark, almost black, and was cut fairly short, though Amelia could see the ends curling just over the collar of his shirt. He looked young, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two, and his broad grin as he accepted his drink at the end of the counter made him look even younger.

Amelia felt like a pervert, ogling the younger man so blatantly. She felt even more embarrassed when he turned around and met her gaze. His eyes were a bright hazel color and she was altogether entranced when he smiled at her. Then he took a step towards her and she felt her face heat up.

Oh God, is he coming over here? she wondered and was still unable to look away.

"Hello," he said as he stopped next to her table.

"Hi," she managed to murmur in response.

"Is someone sitting here?" he asked, pointing at the empty chair across the table from her.

She shook her head mutely. His smile widened.

Lord help her, he was incredibly good-looking.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" he asked. "It's kind of crowded in here."

Amelia lifted an eyebrow at him before tearing her gaze away from his face and glancing around the coffee shop. There were two other patrons sitting across the shop at another table and the three employees behind the counter. That was it.

"Of course," Amelia replied. "I would hate to leave you standing there when I have a perfectly good seat right across from me."

He nodded in agreement and pulled the seat out so he could sit down. "I'm Sean." He stuck his hand out over the table between them. "Sean Carson."

"I'm Amelia Clarke," she replied, shaking his hand and probably enjoying just a little too much the way his larger hand wrapped firmly around her smaller one. It distracted her from his name, which, for some reason, sounded vaguely familiar.

"Nice to meet you Amelia," he said, giving her hand the subtlest of squeezes before pulling away. "So what has brought you to this Starbucks today?"

"Work," she replied and laid her hand over the laptop sitting on the table.

"Oh, am I interrupting?"he asked, looking genuinely concerned.

"No, not at all," she assured him with a smile. Could you be any cuter? she added silently. "I was just taking a break."

"Good. What do you do that allows you to work in a Starbucks on a Tuesday morning?"

"I'm a writer," she replied and was surprised to see his smile falter. All of a sudden, he seemed to withdraw.

"A reporter?" he asked, sounding concerned.

"No, I write books."

"Really? I don't think I'm familiar with your work."

She chuckled. "Well, you wouldn't be. I write under a pseudonym."

He grinned and didn't say anything. Then he laughed. "You're not going to tell me what that name might be, are you?"

She shook her head without speaking.

"I can't do anything to convince you?" he asked, leaning forward and looking into her eyes with such an earnest expression on his face that she felt a long forgotten flutter in her chest. Her mouth went dry.

"I don't... I don't think we know each other well enough for that," she replied.

"I guess we'll just have to sit here until one of us shares enough about themselves to change that, won't we?" He sat back in his chair, sipping his drink.

Amelia felt her face heating up again and covered her smile with a hand. Across from her, Sean chuckled as he drank more of his coffee.

"All right," she said at length, meeting his gaze again. "I'll start. I don't live here. I'm from Winnipeg and I just travel south for the winter."

His dark eyebrows lifted and he grinned. "Most people go a little further south than New York."

She laughed and nodded. "I intend to. I'm just taking my time getting there."

"Sounds great. It must be nice that your work allows you to travel."

"It is. I love the change of scenery."

"And people?"

"People?" She didn't understand.

"Yeah, do you enjoy changing the people in your life around too?" he asked and then cringed. "That... didn't come out the way I meant it."

Amelia smiled and waited for him to clarify but she was pretty sure she knew what he meant. Even though she knew he didn't mean to hurt her feelings, his words still stung; mostly because they were true. She did travel to change the people she saw. It was cold, but there it was.

"I just meant... you like to travel and meet new people," Sean went on, his youthful face pink in the cheeks.

"I do like meeting new people," she agreed. "Even young men who enjoy chatting up old women in coffee shops."

Her words drew a laugh from him and she felt her heart patter at the sight of his grin. He looked so much younger when he smiled like that.

"You're not an old woman, Amelia," he said.

"I'm older than you," she insisted with a smile and raised eyebrows.

"No, you can't be older than... twenty-three, twenty-five, tops."

Amelia felt her face flush hot at his words and stared into his face, trying to determine if he was teasing her. Instead, his face looked more than earnest. "Well, now I can't tell you how old I really am," she replied quietly, looking away from his handsome face.

"Why not?" he asked. "Would it help if I told you how old I am?"

Laughing, Amelia shook her head and moved on her seat, swinging her legs out from under the table. She'd been there long enough and if she stayed any longer, she might end up believing that Sean was more interested than he truly was. He watched her for a second and then shot to his feet, a hand reaching towards her.

"You're not leaving?" he said. "I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable."

"I should get back to my hotel," she replied. "My flight leaves tonight."

"Oh, you're not even going to be in New York tomorrow?" His tone sounded almost disappointed to her and she paused in the motions of packing up her laptop to look at him. He flushed under her gaze and smiled shyly.

"It was very nice to meet you, Sean," she said honestly. "Maybe we'll run into each other again."

He nodded and then a slow grin spread across his face. "Maybe we will."

She blinked at the change that came over his face as he spoke. A sly look had replaced the shy one and his eyes were bright, while that grin continued to captivate her.

She needed to get the hell out of there.

"I should go," she murmured and swept her belongings into her arms. She walked away from the table, calling a brief 'good-bye' over her shoulder.

All the way back to the hotel, she couldn't get his smile and his hazel eyes - fringed with all those thick, dark lashes - out of her mind.

***

It was a wonder Sean could even lace up his skates that night. His mind was filled with details from his encounter in Starbucks earlier that day. He didn't often go out or wander from the team when they were in different cities, but they'd all been a little too rambunctious for him to deal with that day. So he'd gone for a walk and ended up at the coffee shop.

Where he'd met Amelia.

A woman who looked no more than a year or two older than him but who insisted she was much older. He'd never even discovered what her real age was before she'd bolted. And she had bolted. That thought made him cringe. He'd never had a woman run from him. From a young age he'd been a star and everyone knew it, women more than men.

"Carson!" the coach yelled at him. "Get your ass in gear!"

He nodded and pulled the laces tight before standing up. He yanked the familiar jersey over his head with the white 'C' sewn into the left shoulder and hustled out of the locker room after the other stragglers.

The game went well and he rediscovered his focus on the ice. It was all about the game and the ice, and the touch of the puck against his stick. It was the blood thrumming in his veins and the breath rushing from his lungs. His legs burned by the end of the game and his voice was hoarse from hollering at every player.

Still, after all that, all he saw when he went to sleep that night was the beautiful blush on Amelia's cheeks and her shy smile.

***

Their next stop was Raleigh, North Carolina, and he found himself again walking alone away from the hotel. He had the brief urge to call home just to chat with his mom and dad, but he knew it would worry his mom and he didn't want to do that. So he sucked it up and wandered the streets near the hotel and the RBC Center.

Then he spotted a Starbucks, right across the street from where he paused to wait for a cross walk.

A smile bloomed on his face and he wallowed for a few seconds in his all too brief memories of Amelia. He'd not seen her since he'd met her, of course, but his dreams had been riddled with images of her and the very explicit things he wanted to do to her.

Still grinning like an idiot, he wandered across the road and into the Starbucks. Without meaning to, his eyes scanned the shop and saw no sign of her smiling face. With a sigh, he stood in line and waited patiently for his turn at the till.

The girl behind the counter recognized him and, while she didn't say anything, he saw the change come over her. She flushed and averted her eyes, her hand trembling as she handed his change back to him. Although he was surprised she didn't even ask for an autograph, he moved to head for the end of the counter.

As he turned, he ran right into the next person in line.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he exclaimed, putting his hands out to steady the woman.

"It's all right," she replied and their eyes met.

"Amelia!" he said, shocked.

"Sean," she replied, sounding equally as surprised. "What a surprise."

"Yeah, huge surprise," he agreed and then grinned. "I can't believe you're here."

She shook her head and laughed. "Neither can I."

"Let me buy you a drink," he burst out and whirled around to the counter, saying Amelia's drink was on him.

"No, you don't have to do that," she said, waving a hand and blushing that most attractive shade of pink again.

"Please, I drove you away last time. The least I can do is buy you a coffee to make up for it."

She relented and asked for a latte. Then they both moved down to the end of the counter and waited in awkward silence for their drinks. Sean spotted the laptop case over her shoulder and figured she was here to work again.

"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked as they picked up their drinks.

"Join me?" she replied, not quite meeting his eyes.

Sean grinned. She knew exactly what he meant and was trying to be coy. It was compelling and he wasn't going to just let her walk away without learning more about her; maybe even getting her phone number, too.

"Yeah, while you work," he said, indicating her laptop case with one hand. "I was going to just sit and read a newspaper. It would be nice to sit with someone."

She met his eyes, looking skeptical. She was gorgeous and the look in her eyes, even hesitant as she was, was enough to send the blood in his body dancing around to a single destination. He shifted from one foot to another, hoping he wasn't too obvious.

He was old enough to not be getting hard-ons in public.

There was something about Amelia though... her rich, deep auburn hair just sweeping her shoulders and her dark, sparkling green eyes turned him into a raging mound of hormones. She was shorter than him, her head coming to just under his chin, and she was dressed plainly in jeans and a deep teal-colored shirt with some fancy detailing around the collar. All together, she had drawn him right in and he ached to get to know her better.

MugsyB
MugsyB
2,722 Followers