Off The Ice // A Patrick Kane Fanfic

Decisions Decisions

“We should probably head out,” I say a few hours later.

“Yeah, I’ve got practice in the morning,” Patrick agrees. He gets up off of his barstool and helps me down. I can’t hold back a blush as he does this. It’s so . . . nice. So gentlemanly. It’s not something I’m used to.

I try to pull away but he keeps holding my hand as we walk away from the bar, saying goodbye to his teammates as we go. A lot of the guys are really nice about our, uh, scene earlier. Most just joke about it. None of them are rude or upset or anything, which is really good. It was really embarrassing earlier, once I got over the initial happiness making out with Patrick caused. I’m glad to see that the guys aren’t making a huge deal out of it.

The girls are another story. A few of them stare at me weirdly, and more than one glares at me like I’ve done something completely unforgiveable.

“Where did the lovebirds go again?” I ask once we finish with whatever teammates are in the bar.

“Um,” he points. “I think I found them.”

I look where he’s pointing and cover my mouth to keep from laughing. If I thought mine and Patrick’s mini make-out was bad I was sorely mistaken. Kailey and Jonathan are practically attacking each other in the corner of the bar. They’re making such a spectacle of themselves it’s clear that they are both drunk off their asses.

“I’m not sure we should get in the middle of that,” I say.

“Yeah, we don’t want to get any closer than we are now. Kailey is mean when she and Jonny are interrupted. Learned that the hard way,” he rubs the back of his head, like he’s rubbing a phantom bruise.

“I guess that’s good to know?” I’m not sure I really needed to know that, but it’ll probably come in handy at some point since they can’t seem to keep their hands off of each other.

“She’s got good aim too,” he mutters. “That book hurt like a bitch. She should’ve played sports.”

I choke on a laugh. “She did. She played sports her entire life. Almost as long as I did.”

“Did she fuck up her knees too?” he puts his arms around my shoulders and drops his chin on my head.

“Nope,” I answer. “She has a bad ankle. Messed it up playing volleyball,” I turn my head to look up at him. “Who told you about my knees?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Kailey.”

“And how did that subject come up?”

“I asked for fun facts about you,” he says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world to find out about a person’s life without having to actually ask that person.

“Remind me to thank her later,” I certainly have plenty to say.