Trip to Your Heart - A Hockey Fanfiction

Driving (Not Shipping) Up to Boston

Cara and I were packed days before we had to leave for Boston. We were excited to have our girls' weekend and we had complied an excellent playlist for the entire car ride there and back with our throwback Usher, Miley Cyrus, and, because why not, some Justin Bieber. She and I had both buried our former teams' gear under our Flyers shirts along with a few outfits that didn't have team affiliations so that we had options to choose from. Claude watched me lug my suitcase to the door, "You know it's a few days, not the rest of your life, right?"

"I need options. My outfit isn't decided for me, unlike yours," I shot back with a teasing smirk.

"You always look gorgeous, babe, it just looks like you're packing your entire closet," Claude wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned down to kiss me.

"Most of it is still up there," I murmured against his lips.

"Oh, the hangers? Is the bathroom empty, too?" He teased, kissing me again.  There was a honk from out front and I knew that would be Cara since Claude was driving up with Jakub and they were leaving after team bonding. "She couldn't come knock like a normal person?" Claude asked.

"She's probably in the middle of her favorite song. And she probably assumed we'd be making out or something along those lines and she didn't want the visual," I laughed.

"Well, maybe we should wait until she gets impatient enough to come to the door and then give her a visual," he wound his arms more tightly around me, trapping me against his chest with a sexy smirk.

"Claude!" I scolded.

"It was worth a shot," he feigned disappointment.

"I love you," I kissed him, "I'll see you later," I kissed him again.

"I love you, too. Be safe, have fun," he kissed me again and then waved from the door as I walked out to Cara's car and hefted my suitcase into her trunk.

"You ready?" She asked with a grin as I slid into the passenger seat.

"Hell yeah!" I replied.

Cara slid her sunglasses down onto her nose and reversed out of the driveway. I waved to Claude and as soon as we were on the road, we turned the music up.

We stopped for lunch a few hours later at a burger joint in New York. It was pricey, but delicious. "So, what's the plan for meeting up with your friends?" I asked, munching on a few fries.

"I called Bergy and he said that the team would love to see us and that they'd treat us to dinner at an Irish pub that I loved when we were there," she said before taking a bite of her avocado bacon cheeseburger.

"You like Irish fare?" I asked, having not learned this about her before.

"They have the best fish and chips ever, and yes, yes I do," she told me with as much sass as a toddler in a tiara.

"Okay," I laughed, "no need to get defensive, I was just asking."

"They have good food. Maybe, if we're lucky, they'll decide they want to keep hanging out and we can go do something else," she said.

"Pasta?"

"Stella, I meant after dinner. We'll have just eaten and you want more food?" She rolled her eyes.

"No, Pastrnak. Isn't Pasta his nickname?" I laughed.

"Oh... Oh! I get it now, okay," she nodded, "Well, I don't know if I'm ready for that yet."

I nearly choked on my lemonade, "Wait, hold up. Ready yet? Did something happen with Wa-"

"Don't speak his name!" She hissed.