You are watching game seven of the Rangers Flyers series in the wags box in the Madison Square Garden. You are wearing your boyfriend’s jersey with dark skinny jeans and black boots with heels. Like most game seven’s, this game is intense, even if it’s only the first round. You are sitting between Henrik Lundqvist’s wife Therese and Marc Staal’s wife Lindsay, both of whom are veteran playoff wags. You, on the other hand, had only experienced the playoffs as a fan, and were now figuring out what it meant to date a hockey player during the most important games of his career. It’s like he’s a different person; he’s more sensitive off the ice, he doesn’t sleep as well, he’s grouchy after practice, and that’s on a regular day. After a loss…. wow, anything could start a fight or make him angry. Ryan had never yelled at you before, so the first time you saw that it hurt and took a while to get over.
On the other hand, after win anything was possible. It wasn’t like a normal win where he was, of course, happy and excited. It was more than that, like it affected him on a deeper level. Tonight you wonder which Ryan you are going to have to deal with after the game, but it would be worse. If they lost he would be sad and depressed for a few weeks, but if he won? You don’t want to think about that, even as the Rangers are ahead 2-1 in the third period. Anything could happen in the next few minutes. As the minutes tick down, Therese grabs your hand. Henrik blocked shot after shot, and when the buzzer sounds at the end of the third you jump to your feet. You hug Therese, Lindsay, and a few other wags and watch the celebration down on the ice.
“You’re guy played well,” Therese said after you hugged her. “My guy? I believe it was your husband who blocked all but one shot tonight, giving us a win,” you reply and she smiles. You and the wags go downstairs to wait for the players to get changed and finish their interviews, which would probably take a little longer this time around.
As soon as you see Ryan you can tell something is up. He has a crooked smile and a twinkle in his eye that could only mean one thing. “Hey babe,” he says and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You pull away, embarrassed to be engaged in such public displays of affections in front of his teammates and their families. “Wow, Ryan, nice game,” you say and start walking toward the exit with him. His hand slowly slides down from your waist and you instantly pull it back up again, giving him a scolding look. “Ryan, not here,” you whisper, but he laughs. “Y/N why are you so uptight?” He says and helps you into the car. “I’m not uptight, I just don’t like being groped in public.” He gets into the car and looks at you with a smirk before starting the car. “Does that mean I can grope you when we’re not in public?” You roll your eyes and sigh, “Yeah, I guess.”
He drove home faster than you’d ever seen him drive, and in the driveway he picked you up to carry you inside. “Ryan, what are you doing?” You ask and wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m carrying you, hun,” he says as he somehow manages to open the door. He stumbles into the living room and drops you on the couch just in time before he falls over on top of you. You start to laugh, but he interrupts you with a kiss and entwines his fingers in your hair. He kisses you deeper and starts to pull the jersey off over your head. “Whoa, you’re just wearing a bra under that?” he asks after he takes it off. You smile and blush a little, “I knew that after the game you were either going to need some cheering up, or that we’d be celebrating, so I figured it would be easier if I just wore a bra under your jersey…” You look up at him after you finish your explanation, and he is staring at you, mouth slightly open.
“We’re going to need to take this upstairs, because Y/N, that is hot!” He picks you up again and carries you upstairs toward your bedroom.
-Lila
