We finish our afternoon skate, which lasted almost three hours, and I help the equipment staff pick everything up off the ice. I'm the last one off, carrying the three buckets of pucks back to the equipment room.
My ankles are starting to hurt in my skates so I quickly drop the pucks and go back to my office, taking off my skates. I tie my dark grey Chuck's back onto my feet and stand up again. I take a sigh of relief and start down the hall towards the locker room to give my final thoughts on tonight's game. Everyone is looking really good, and we have a really good chance of winning this game.
All of the guys are done here, so a lot of them decide to leave after my final statements. Jonathan and Patrick follow me back to my office. On the way, we pass a group of the Washington Capitals walking with a few of their staff members. I make Patrick walk in front of me when I hear the voice I had wished I'd never hear again.
Jonathan gives me an odd look when I push Patrick in front of me, but shrugs it off as we pass them, single filed line, in the small hallway.
We get to my office and Jonathan sits in my chair before I can. I roll my eyes sarcastically. "What was up with that group of Caps? CJ?" Patrick asks.
I try to dodge that. "Nothing. Why?"
"You pushed me in front of you when they came by, and you were clinging to the back of my shirt like they were going to shoot you or something".
"That was nothing", I shrug. "I was being nice and let you go ahead of me. I don't know how that was so wrong".
"Okay. Forgive me". Patrick puts his hand in the air, surrendering to me and my argument. Patrick changes the subject. "Do you know when Kayla gets off of work today?"
"Uh", I think for a moment. "Well, it's Thursday so six o'clock, if I'm correct".
"Do you think she would want to come to the game tonight? I might have asked if we had a front row ticket not sold yet, and there's quite a few".
"Why don't you ask her? I'm not her mother, although I sometimes act like it. Go call her".
Patrick smiles and walks out of my office and down the hall. I stay in my place leaning against my office window as Jonathan and I exchange glances.
"Who was it?" He asks me. I dread to know who he's talking about, but I think I do. "From the Caps?"
"I told you. I was being nice and let Patrick walk in front of me. I don't have a problem with the Caps".
"No..... I think you're lying", Jonathan says lowly. "Maybe, it was Brad Malone?"
My eyes go wide. He did not just say that name, did he? "Why would it be Brad Malone?" I ask nonchalantly.
"Well, you two went to UND at the same time, and you ignored the subject the other day at the pool. You knew him, didn't you?"
"Yeah, a little".
"Come on Cyn", Jonathan says, mildly annoyed. "Trying to not let him see you means you knew him a little more-"
"Don't call me Cyn. Ever. Again", I sneer, my fists clench. I take a quick breath. I relax myself before continuing. "He called me that", my voice weakens.
"I'm sorry", Jonathan's voice is low. "What happened?"
I pace towards my office door. "I don't want to talk about it. Just forget it. Yes, I pushed Patrick in front of me so I didn't have to see Brad. There, you happy?"
"Um, okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset", Jonathan tells me. He gets up from my chair slowly, walking over to me. His hands run up and down my arms.
"CJ?" Jonathan looks down at me. I look straight ahead, at his name imprinted on the thin jacket he's wearing. "Hey, look at me".
Jonathan's right hand comes up to my chin, tilting my head up so my eyes meet his. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to make you upset. Never have, never will. I don't know what made me so curious at that moment. I won't do it again".
I don't really have anything to say, but before I can open my mouth, Jonathan leans down. His lips move slowly over mine. I close my eyes as Jonathan pulls me closer to him, his arm snaking tightly around my waist. My hands find his shoulders, pulling him down slightly.
Stepping backwards and pulling me with him, Jonathan grabs my office door and closes it. He pushes me against it, my head hitting it lightly. I groan at the slight pain, giving Jonathan the time to slip his tongue into my mouth. Our tongues fight against each other, but Jonathan wins, and I let him.
This is so wrong, I shouldn't be doing this. My father would kill me if he found out any of this was going on. My father would bench Jonathan, fire me, disown me.
Jonathan's hands travel up and down my back, one on my ends at the small of back, the other wraps into my hair. My right hand goes to the back of his neck, pulling him even closer.
"Jonathan", I moan against his lips. Our lips continue on, my body not finding the will to move away. After a few moments of our heavy making out, I pull away. "Jonathan", I whisper.
Jonathan is my rock. I want him.
I need him.