Probably what you all have been waiting for.
Brooke
Sunday was probably the most uneventful day of my entire unexpected adventurous week, unless you count me having a heart to heart with Cass as soon as he and Beck walked into the vestibule that morning. And by “heart to heart” I clearly mean me giving him a piece of my mind for not telling me exactly who Dill was when he too had many chances to out the hockey player.
My mom, the pastor of our small church, wasn’t exactly happy with my behavior that morning; she didn’t know why I was royally chewing Cass out. I had decided to keep that bit of information to myself for the time being until a more opportunistic moment to tell my parents that I met one of my favorite hockey players presented itself. Until then I was “grounded” for using “piratey” language in church. By grounded I mean mom just threatened me with the thought of being grounded, oooh very scary mom, and her version of “piratey” language was just me saying bullshit once to Cass, just once.
Whatever mom, I’ll be Captain Hook for the day. But I needed to get my point across to Cass and to Beck because she knew what the heck was going on that night too. In their defense they defended my honor and they honest to goodness didn’t think that anything would have escalated between Dill and I past that night. Well surprise, surprise he was supposed to be calling me someday to talk? . . . Lord I don’t even know what the heck is going on anymore.
I need to go back to school; crazy things don’t happen at school. The craziest thing that could happen would be my French teacher giving us a “surprise” pop quiz. I just needed to make it to Monday that was my only thought. Which made me sound like a weirdo because who wants Monday to come faster? No one, except me because all I had to do on Monday was go to work and then go to Bio and Math class later that night.
Monday morning proved to me that things in my world were righting themselves once again. It was a bitter cold, rainy morning the weather man said that the highest it would get was a whopping four degrees . . . yay Kansas City bipolar weather.
At the morning meeting that we have right before the store opens my General Manager said that we would get a rush because of the weather, what I wanted to know was who in their right mind decides to go shopping in four degree weather, people who shop at one of the most top leading Outdoorsman stores in America apparently. Everyone and their mother’s, cousin’s uncle twice removed decided to come to their favorite outdoors store and wreck complete havoc on the employees.
January is the most feared month in retail, because all the holidays have passed and really no one wants or needs to buy anything anymore. So, because it’s a Monday in January my department the ‘Footwear’ department was understaffed, not purposefully but because it’s the second week in January and its four degrees outside raining cats and dogs. But to the people shopping it might have well have been December 24th and the store was closing in an hour, complete anarchy. Days like this happen in the retail world, but rarely so no one not even the managers are prepared for days like this.
It had been just me and my team lead for the first two hours of madness that the store had been opened, she and I were running around like chickens with our heads chopped off we were trying to help and satisfy every customer that came through our department. Another thing that sucked about Retail Land in January was that after a great holiday season we were low on a lot of things that customers needed. Wrong size boots, not the right style, one size eight in the entire system, two size fourteens but no size ten, and the list goes on and on. Eventually customers start to get a little feisty, that’s when you the salesperson wants to punch everyone including yourself in the face.
I was helping one lady after the crazy rush died down; she wanted to get her twelve year old son hiking boots. He was between a kid’s size and a man’s size, with our sizing range kids stopped at a six and men’s started at an eight. Her son was a seven and that size shoe besides a women’s shoe didn’t exist in our store. I tried explaining that to her several times, I even showed her options in the women’s selection for her son, all of the women’s hiking boots that we carried looked like men’s hiking boots so the kid wouldn’t be embarrassed by having to wear women’s hiking boots.
She literally flipped her ever-loving shit at my suggestion that her son wear women’s boots, she was appalled that I would even suggest a thing like that. At this time I was way over my capacity of patience for the day and was ready to punch a bitch. I tried explaining to her in the most calming way possible for me, that we’ve had full grown, bearded, lumberjack looking male customers come in who were small of stature that had to get a women’s hiking or work boot. I explained that there really isn’t any difference except that a women’s shoe would be just a little bit narrower than a man’s, that’s really it.
Her son was actually willing to try on a women’s hiking boot, he went and plucked a high top hiker from off the wall and handed it to me all the while his mother still ranted on about her kid wearing a “girly boot”. When I went back to our back stock to grab the kid a size nine in the boot he wanted because guys have to go up two sizes in women’s shoes, I found myself in the worst possible position.
I didn’t have a size nine for the kid. His mother was just going to love me.
Spouting off every word curse I knew I dreaded going back out there to deal with her, but every second longer I spent in the back “looking” for a shoe that didn’t exist the mother would use against me by saying that I was incompetent. Punching a shoe box since I couldn’t hit a customer, I squared my shoulders and went to war.
Needless to say because of my lack in salesmanship, “attitude” and my stores lack of product she wouldn’t be coming back to shop her ever again. She walked away saying that she’d talk to my manager about her “horrendous” experience in the Footwear department also. Plastering the biggest fake smile I could muster I wished her a nice day and when she turned to leave I gave her the single digit salute that didn’t go unnoticed by my lead.
Smiling sheepishly at being caught I started to clean up some of the shoe boxes that customers had left out. “People are just so nice, aren’t they? Especially after the most giving and joyful time of the year.”
My lead Kirsten shook her head doing a poor job at hiding her smile. “B, just go to lunch before you get yourself fired. Braedon will be here in ten minutes, I think I can handle it if you leave.”
Tossing her a grateful smile over my shoulder I rushed toward the break room calling my girl Kattie over the walkie-talkie to see if she was ready to go scarf down some food before we had to go back to this hell that is known as retail.
Kattie met me half way back to the break room, we narrowly avoided a few customers who if given the chance would have asked us where this was or where that was and then the favorite “where’s the bathroom?” I’ve always wanted to tell someone that we didn’t have a bathroom unless they counted the outhouse 200 feet behind the store a bathroom, but alas I needed this job just a little bit longer.
Plopping my butt down into one of the chairs that surrounded the polished wooden lunch table I let out the loudest sigh of relief. Kattie laughed, but nodded agreeing with me that today has just started and it’s already been a rough one.
Opening up my hot pink lunch-purse, yes it’s called a lunch-purse, because they really don’t make cool lunchboxes for grown-ups anymore. Unless you’re willing to withstand weird looks if you bring in a Disney Princess lunchbox, I learned my lesson that day. In my lunch-purse I was relieved and really surprised that I had actually packed something nutritional for today’s lunch. Kattie must have seen the surprised look on my face because she leaned over taking a peek at my lunch.
“Wow Bails, no Cheez-it’s or Reese’s cups for lunch?” she laughed taking a bite of her Subway sandwich.
“I know right? That means I actually had a brain at 6am this morning, imagine that.” She laughed because we both knew that me having a brain at all before ten o’clock in the morning is something unheard of.
Giving Kattie an eye roll as she continues to munch on her turkey BLT, I pull out my nutritious lunch; a golden delicious apple, a PB&J sandwich, a few sticks of celery with ranch dip and finally last but certainly not least, the one thing that keeps me sane whenever I have to work mornings, a bottle of Diet Coke. Thank you Lord to whomever invented Diet Coke, that dude deserves a medal and a raise and the keys to the Playboy Mansion or whatever old dudes like.
“This is soooo nice,” I moaned taking a bite out of my sandwich; I took my IPhone out of my back pocket before slouching down in my seat. One of the old guys that works behind the gun counter chuckles at me.
“Footwear been busy?” he asks his eyes never leaving the newspaper in his hands as he flips to another page crossing his leg over his knee. I notice that he’s reading the sports section, an article had been written about the Redgraves triumphant first game of the shortened season. A huge picture of JT Dillions, Domini Perrii and Pieter Bjorn hugging after Dill’s shorthanded goal was on the front page.
Looking closer I noted that Mitchell Townsend had written the article. Now that guy and his writing was something that I inspired towards, he never said a bad thing about the Redgraves. Of course when they were acting poorly and losing games they shouldn’t have lost last season Townsend would write his honest opinion but he wouldn’t lash out at any one player, because it’s a team effort and when the team does poorly there isn’t one person to blame. I really admired that about Townsend, even when he would get backlash from fans who obviously don’t know anything about the sport itself he never backed down and continued to write what he wanted.
“More like hell,” I answer trying and failing to keep a certain hockey player out of my thoughts. Opening my Diet Coke and taking a much needed gulp, the soda was so cold and carbonated that it burned as it went down. That’s when you know that from here on out your day’s going to start looking up, when your lunch is good and your sodas ice cold. “But I can’t imagine how crazy hunting must be,” I admit dipping a celery stick into some ranch.
He chuckled again. “Well, if you see a flare gun going off then you know it’s time for a search and rescue mission because the avalanche of customers has finally given way and there might not be many survivors. But until that time, ladies I have to be the one brave soul and go back out there.” He smiled and then standing to his feet tipped his imaginary cowboy hat and then strolled out of the break room leaving me and Kattie in fits of laughter.
“Oh my god!” she gushed wiping away tears she was laughing so hard. “I absolutely love the old guys that work here; they are all so funny and really sweet.”
“It’s never boring here that’s for sure,” I smiled faintly taking another bite out of my sandwich, swallowing I turned to Kattie. “So, how are things on the S.S. Kattie and Ben Loveboat?” the look on her little round face was so priceless that MasterCard should have been filming for their next commercial.
Kattie regained her shocked expression like a pro, but instead of dishing like I wanted her to do she turned away from me and started paying much too much attention to what was left of her Turkey BLT.
“Kattie, common.” I whined holding in my laughter. She must really, really like this guy if she wasn’t comfortable discussing him with me. She was probably worried that I would judge him too quickly and then go hunt him down and lay down the law that is KAB “Me, Kattie and Andy” you don’t mess with one of us and not expect the other two to come and kick your ass for hurting our girl. I wasn’t a judger or a hater, my girls are just important to me.
“Kattie, please, you’ve already gone out on seven dates with him, it’s time to dish so do it now.” I pouted gripping her forearm I amped up the puppy dog face that always got me what I wanted when I was younger; I had always thought that it was my super power.
“Three dates is hardly seven Bails, you really do suck at math.” She stuck her tongue out at me. “Besides, there’s nothing to dish, we are going slow.” she replied easily, shaking off my puppy dog powers. “Wait—how did you know that I’ve already been out with him? Did Andy tell you?”
“You told Andy before me?” I gasped in mock horror. “And when was this alleged third date? Andy had only told me about that night at Starbucks.” Oops I had given myself away there but it didn’t look like Kattie noticed my little slip.
Andy did only tell me about the Starbucks Date because she had “accidentally” seen Kattie and Ben at Starbucks that night and she thought that it was funny that Kattie was going to such lengths to keep her and me away from Ben. It’s not like we didn’t already know Ben, for goodness sake we work with the guy he’s not a complete stranger. Maybe she was only going to such crazy lengths because this was a new and budding relationship and she wasn’t too sure where it was going.
“Uhh . . . no?” she stumbled realizing that she had said something she shouldn’t have. “She saw us at Starbucks and was going to cause a scene if I hadn’t told her, really B it’s not some big secret.” She explained quickly having a hard time looking at me in general.
I gave her a little shoulder bump. “So, this Ben guy must be pretty spectacular crazy-amaze if you’re keeping him under the radar from me and Andy.” Kattie shrugged still not looking at me but a bright red blush stole up her cheeks. Lord, I love my girlfriends. “As long as I’m invited to the wedding we’re good Kattie Dear.” She blushed even harder at that comment but couldn’t come up with a comeback to save her sweet little soul.
Dropping the topic completely before I go too far and Kattie ends up kicking my ass for all my lame comments, I lean back into my chair drawing the bottle of Diet Coke to my lips. I can almost feel this crazy-hectic day slipping into an easy go after we get back from lunch. Of course the real world had to come back into the picture and ruin what was left of my thirty minute lunch.
"Bailey in footwear." A faceless voice called over the radio. "Bailey in footwear."
Groaning I picked up the radio. "Go for Bailey," I answered.
"Hey B go to channel four." That was Braedon’s voice, one of the guys I worked with, wonder what he wanted.
I switched to channel four, rolling my eyes to Kattie break time was officially over. "On four."
"Hey Bails there's a . . . uhh . . . a customer that wants to talk to you," Braedon explained sounding a bit uneasy.
"What does the customer want?” instantly I thought of that awesome lady I had dealt with before going to lunch. “I'm just finishing up my lunch break; can't you take care of it?" I asked not wanting to go back out and finish what was left of my eight hour shift.
There was a long pause. “Bailey, the uhh . . . customer is very adamant about needing your help." Braedon explained, he sounded nervous and that was very unlike the self-obsessed, cocky “bro” that I worked with.
Setting down the radio I rubbed my temples a headache quickly forming, I was about to tell Braedon that I would be up to the department in a minute when a new voice carried over the radio.
“Come on Smalls, quit hiding. It’s not nice to keep customers waiting.” That ladies and gentlemen was the goddamn voice of JT Dillions the forward for the Kansas City Redgraves, who seemingly didn’t know how to use a freaking phone to save his sweet ass.
“Who the hell was that?” Kattie exclaimed clearly perplexed.
I jumped up from my seat not having time to explain to Kattie what’s been going on in my life. Forgetting Kattie and my lunch-purse I stormed out of the break room, he couldn’t just show up out of complete freaking nowhere and expect that his cute, dreamy smile and gorgeous blue eyes will just make everything better. Coming to where I work was stepping over the line, I did not need whatever the heck was going on between us, if anything was going on, becoming the next gossip craze.
I was walking up the main drive aisle to my department when I noticed that he wasn’t alone. Besides the crowd of fans that gathered around to get autographs, JT Dillions had brought friends, two guys from the second line that he was currently on the “kid line” as fans liked to call it; Pieter Bjorn and Domini Perrii. Holy hell, I was going to meet two more Redgraves players awesome beyond words. Reality check, get your shit together B you’re not a fan right now.
I slowed my hectic pace to watch the scene unfold, there were about five to ten people asking for autographs and the kids definitely outnumbered the adults. The guys handled them easily; smiling, cracking jokes, answering questions, it was a very cool thing to witness that the guys didn’t act like jerks and wave off signing whatever the fans shoved in their faces. I was impressed and a little of my anger melted away.
I was half way up the aisle when he raised his head from signing a t-shirt a ten year old had given him, he found me and an easy smile spread across his face. From here I could see his light blue eyes sparkling as I slowly, unsurely made my way to him. The way he was looking at me made me feel as though we weren’t remote strangers but something—something deeper which was crazy.
My heart really needed to stop doing that fluttering thing because, I reminded myself that I was mad at him. Angry that he was forcing himself in my life when I really can’t do with a distraction right now and that’s exactly what JT Dillions was; a distraction of the worst kind. The kind a girl could lose a lot over. Where was the “trying” part that I had promised Em and Harp I would do . . . well you see that all in my logical mind went out the window when he decided that stalking me at my job was a cool thing to do and not just calling me like I thought he would do.
Lame excuse? Totally. Did I give a flying fat man? Nope.
When I finally reached him the crowd of fans had dispersed and it was only the three forwards left with my co-workers lingering back whispering about how could I possible know JT Dillions, Pieter Bjorn, and Domini Perrii, I wondered that myself.
Taking a deep breath and wishing that I didn’t have to go through this, I tried to build that anger back up. Why couldn’t he have just called me? I planted my fists onto my hips hoping that would give me some power, when all I felt like doing was running away.
“You can’t be here,” the words come out firm if a little shaky.
JT Dillions quirked an eyebrow at that statement his hands shoved deep into the pockets of dark wash jeans, causing the thermal shirt he wore to stretch across his taut muscular chest. His shaggy dark brown hair was hidden beneath his trademark backwards flat bill baseball cap.
“Turning away customers Smalls?” he tsked closing the distance between us, his body language was relaxed, confident. “We’re just here for some . . .” he paused looking around my department trying to figure out his excuse for being here. I had to smile, boy had not thought out his plan very well. “Boots! The boys and I are looking for some boots.” He looked over his shoulder at Bjorn and Perrii and both nodded their heads though they were fighting to keep from laughing, thinking that same thing that I had.
Exhaling out my nose I briefly counted to five and then walked towards the hunting section of my department expecting the three forwards to follow and they did. Bjorn and Perrii were exchanging a joke that was lost on me but had made Dill glare at them. If he wanted to play games then I could play games right along with the best of them, even if that “best” was in fact JT Dillions.
“So, this is the famous Smalls we’ve all heard so much about.” Pieter Bjorn interrupted, dually noting the sudden tension, his English accented by his Swedish origin as he held out his large hand. “I am Pieter Bjorn,” he smiled warmly.
I looked up at him like I had to do to all three of them, but Pieter Bjorn was a hell of a lot taller than either Perrii or Dill. He looked Swedish, weird I know but he did, his hair was the color of wheat and looked feathery soft, his eyes were a soft bluish sapphire, he was rocking a five o’clock shadow and looked ready to laugh at Dill whenever this “thing” backfired in his face. My curiosity was peaked at the word ‘famous’ wondering what all had been said about me, but I decided to leave it seeing it as a jibe to Dill.
“Just call me B,” I said watching as my much smaller hand disappeared in his grasp as he gently shook my hand. Pieter Bjorn was slightly charming and I couldn’t keep the smile from my lips, I turned to Domini Perrii after letting go of the Swede’s hand and finished with the introductions.
“Enchanté, I am Domini Perrii but you may call me Dom.” He practically purred giving the back of my hand a small chaste kiss. I was definitely enchanted . . . sigh Canadians. Domini ‘Dom’ Perrii was as tall as Dill but a little stockier, his dark hair was closely cropped and his eyes were a warm brown.
This is literally the weirdest day of my life. Dom still had a hold of my hand and it wasn’t awkward it was still kinda charming. Dill eyed our intertwined hands and instantly I felt a little hissy fit coming on from him. Serves you right, buddy. He didn’t have to just randomly show up he could have called and I would have answered just like I said I would, but no he had to try and bring back the charm and charisma of a good rom-com and well . . . here we are all awkward and stuff.
“Okay, enough introductions,” he shot Dom a severe glare Dom laughing released my hand. “Why don’t you guys go look at the golf section.” He was clearly ready to start a full on pout mode because I found his teammates more charming and entertaining than him.
Pieter and Dom exchanged looks and I would bet money they were wondering what the hell was up with their teammate, I would like to know the same thing.
“It was very nice meeting you, the famous Miss B.” Bjorn smiled completely ignoring the death glares that were coming from Dill.
“À bientôt Miss B!” Dom laughed as he and Pieter both wandered off.
Dill murmured something under his breath, I pretended not to hear. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly, shaking his head he turned to me and smiled, that ‘I’m so adorable smile,’
“You know we don’t actually have a golf section right?” I asked crossing my arms fighting against the smile I know I was hardcore sporting.
“That just means it’ll take them that much longer to get back here,” he reasoned.
I kept my expression as blasé as possible. I was still pretty ticked at him and he needed a good dose of your-not-as-cool-as-you-think-you-are and quick. I turned away before I lost all sense of good old-fashioned common sense and ended up flirting with him when I should be angry with him for reasons that I don’t even understand.
“Why are you here?” I asked focusing on the wall of hunting boots that were on display. I was trying to treat him like a normal run of the mill customer, but it wasn’t working my inner fan girl was slowly starting to freak out, because hey! Look at that, again I am all alone and talking to one of my favorite players in all of the NHL. Dammit.
“I wanted some boots,” he replied innocently, I could tell that his interest was on me and me alone and not a damn pair of Danner hunting boots.
I briefly closed my eyes my brows scrunching together. “No games,” I said softly. Keeping my eyes closed I slowly started counting to ten if he didn’t tell me his real reason for randomly showing up in my world I was going to go off on him.
He sighed sounding just as frustrated as I felt. “Smalls, I . . . I—”
“You what?” I snapped facing him my fists clenched together at my sides. “You can’t do this, you can’t barge into my life like this because you believe that you have a right too just because you’re some huge athlete Mr. Dillions.” I fumed, wanting to take back saying his last name because it felt wrong rolling off my tongue.
“J, call me J.” he interrupted my short lived rant. “Mr. Dillions is my father,”
“What do you want?” I asked again emphasizing every word. “If you can’t honestly tell me, then I’m sorry but I have to get back to my job.”
He looked away clearly struggling with some internal battle. “Honest to god I don’t know what I’m doing, but I can’t get you out of my head as you can tell after meeting my teammates.”
“This isn’t a Nicholas Sparks movie,” I interjected a little too loudly drawing looks from my lead and Braedon. Really I wish that he would just say April fool’s and go away. “You can’t just show up out of nowhere and turn my world upside down just for grins, because you’re bored.”
“I’m not saying that it is.” He replied sharply. “I’m just . . . hell.” He mumbled removing his baseball hat he nervously ran his hand through his shaggy hair and then forcefully put the hat back on. “Why are you making this so difficult? I’m pretty sure I’ve made my intentions known; I’ve apologized to you countless times, I’m doing something that’s completely against the grain for me and I just can’t win with you, but I-I can’t stop trying.”
“Wha-what intentions?” I laughed. “Because I’m pretty sure getting your big body guard to drag me all the way down to the locker room under false pretenses just so you could talk to me doesn’t count as telling me what your “intentions” towards me really are. Honestly, I’m just wondering if Gretzky isn’t going to pop out from behind that floor stack and start doing a little song and dance action would that be another way for you to tell me what your “intentions” are?” I was on a roll and dammit I wouldn’t be stopped for anything.
“Go out with me.”
Except that. That would definitely cause me to stop.
“What?” I balked caught completely off guard; I was not expecting that in the least.
“You heard me, go out with me. Put me out of my misery and go out with Me.” he said quickly, looking anything but the overtly confident player that I knew him to be.
My eyes were as round as saucers; I couldn’t get my brain to wrap around the words that had come out of his mouth.
Go. Out. With. Me.
Like seriously what the hell? What is this, because it’s even crazier than the twilight zone? JT Freaking Dillions just asked me to go out with him? As in what though? A date? An actually date with a NHL player . . . oh my dang.
“Smalls?” he called softly, using that strange nickname he’d given me the first night we met. “Going into shock isn’t really helping my ego here, and you’re drawing a bit of a crowd too.”
That got my attention, blinking I pulled myself from the massive storm that was causing my brain to go into shock. Looking beyond where Dill and I stood there were a couple people; fans taking pictures and some people that I worked with watching wide-eyed, even their mouths were hanging open. I really hoped they hadn’t heard what he just asked me, I don’t know how on earth I’d be able to explain any of this if they had heard.
I turned back to the display wall thinking quickly before anymore speculation could be made on the situation at hand.
“This is an excellent choice of boot, Mr. Dillions and since you asked so nicely I’m sure it won’t be any problem at all giving you a quick tour of our back stock.” I gushed sweetly grabbing a random hunting boot from off the wall I gave him a little hand motion that said ‘follow me’ and together we went to our back stock room hopefully that would throw people off, otherwise they probably think that we’re back here making out. Now, that would be bad and hopefully my lead doesn’t come back here and cause even more of a problem than the one at hand starting with a question from outer space because left field wasn’t far enough.
I led Dill all the way to the back corner of our back stock room hoping that it’s far away from anyone who decided to eavesdrop on us. Dropping the display boot that I had brought back with me I leaned up against a shelf my mind still blown by the series of events that have happened in the last fifteen minutes . . . hell in the last week and a half things have been crazy.
“So?” he asked after a long pause, he was leaning up against another shelf opposite me his hands still in his pockets and his confident-player like smile back in place.
I looked at him and part of me wished that this was just one big misunderstanding and that I was being punk’d. I could handle being punk’d, but this? If this was real I don’t think I’d be as calm as I was being now.
“So . . .” I followed up stalling for the inevitable, my fingers fisting together at my thighs.
“Go out with me.” he said looking me straight in the eye. See it’s not even a question if it ever was. I don’t do well with being told what to do by the opposite sex, too damn independent for my own damn good. Excuse, a small voice whispered, just another excuse.
I straightened my shoulders. “No.” clear, concise and to the point. I wasn’t mean so he can just go away now.
He dipped his head trying to hide his over-confident smile, but I could have seen it from miles away. Dill pushed off from the shelf he was leaning against, he took his hands from his pockets stalking towards me. Stopping mere inches from me, I fought the urge to cross my arms over my chest in a defensive manner.
“Why not?” he asked simply shifting towards me even more.
The shoe boxes at my back were severely digging into my spine. He made me nervous, so nervous that if I wasn’t careful my head was going to turn to mush on me and I’ll end up doing something incredibly stupid. Like, say agreeing to anything and everything he asked of me.
“Because . . . because . . .” dammit I was losing it. I looked up at him biting my lower lip, and plastered on his stupid, adorably cute face was this all knowing smile. The one that pretty much says ‘yeah you’ve lost, just give up.’
“Because you didn’t ask.” Word vomit? Really? Word vomit, now I just sound petty. ‘Because he didn’t ask?’ what kind of independent woman bullshit is that?
That knowing smile left and I glimpsed what I felt like was the real JT Dillions. If only for a split second I saw him as I am; a regular person. Not a famous athlete, not the next Gretzky or Gordie Howe, just a guy taking that heart stopping plunge and hoping that his parachute will open.
He cleared his throat; obviously he hasn’t done this in quite some time, probably so used to girls just throwing themselves at him. Well, I hope he realizes that I will never be one of those girls, never.
“Smalls, will you do me the great honor of going out on a date with me? Please.” He asked politely even adding please, his mother would be proud.
So, why weren’t the right words coming out of my mouth? Why was I still standing there looking like a mute moron? The choice was easy; Lord the answer should be the easiest answer I’ll ever have to make in my entire life. Yes! Say yes. You’ll never get another opportunity in your entire life like this one. Going out on a date with JT Fucking Dillions, it would be like going out with Channing Freaking Tatum, only better because there’s already something there.
Yes! Say yes you moron.
“No.” Jeezum did that just come out of my mouth?
Both of us were stunned by my abrupt answer, but he covered his disappointment really well. A lot better than I did hiding my shock, I can’t believe I said no to JT Dillions, again.
Dill crossed his arms the cords of muscle sticking out from underneath his long sleeves I fought the urge to reach out and run my fingers along his forearm, whoa that’s weird, but also true. He didn’t step back after my answer; in fact he took a closer step forwards keeping me pressed against the shelf of boxes. Any normal situation and I would have instantly been afraid that he was now going to murder me because I turned him down for a date, but, honestly? I was still in shock and my flight or fight instinct was currently fried at the moment.
“What do you have to be afraid of?” he asked his tone suggesting that he was serious. “Clearly there’s chemistry between us, aren’t you the least bit curious to see where it leads us? One date with a NHL hockey player, something that not a lot of girls get to say they’ve done that has to be something that you’ve always dreamed about.”
“If I was a Puck Bunny yes,” I pointed out taking zero offense. “But I love the game itself more.
“I would never call you a Puck Bunny, one you’re much too feisty and not docile enough to be considered a girl of that low status.” He smiled causing me to smile and some of the tension from my shoulders to ease away.
How did he manage to do this to me? I could be strung up tighter than a Christmas ham from something that he originally said and then he says something like that and all the tension is gone. Crazy-sauce, for damn sure.
A moment of silence settled over us though neither of us jumped to smother it with nonsense. I wanted to say something, but I was the bitch that turned him down and really I don’t have a good enough reason why. I don’t even know why I said ‘no’, I must be an alien.
He was right though, there was some strange chemistry between us that had me curious but I don’t know if I was brave enough to jump at that curiosity and see where this yellow-brick road would take me.
I was about to suggest that this would be a good time for us to head back out to where there were more witnesses when the corner of his mouth quirked up and I knew in that millisecond that cocky smile of his would be my downfall.
“What time do you get off?” he asked casually still within my personal space, I really wish he would take a step or seven back he was making me nervous.
“Three?” I answered questioning my own self and it was my schedule.
He nodded looking down at the Rolex on his left wrist. “Okay, I’ll pick you up at five then.” With that JT Dillions turned to leave, he got half way down the aisle before I realized what the hell had just happened, my brain was seriously fried.
I of course chased after him, tugging him to a stop when I caught up to him. “What the hell was that?” I cried dropping his arm after what felt like a spark shooting through my veins, cliché much brain? “I’ll pick you up at five? Wha—what is that?”
He looked down at me, the cocky grin a little forced at this point. “I’m giving you the benefit of a doubt, this has been quite a day for you and I realize that you need time to think everything that’s happened over. I figured picking you up for 5pm for our date tonight would give you ample enough time to decide everything and get ready because I know how long it takes you girls to get ready for one date. That’s what this is.” He explained in a “duh” like tone.
“You—you can’t be serious! You can’t seriously believe that this is going to work; you forcing me to go out with you. This is the twenty-first century here Mr. NHL and I don’t do well with a man telling me what to do especially one that I’m not too fond of at the moment.” I pushed past him my blood literally boiling; I was so over this ridiculous, ludicrous turn of events. I stopped though thinking of another thing I needed to yell at him about, whipping around I did what all woman are good at and that’s point their finger at the person their screaming at.
“One more thing, most girls do not find this whole he-man-Neanderthal “thing” to be very attractive, we like to be treated as equals and not some porcelain doll. And just because you’re some big NHL athlete does not mean that anything with boobs wants to jump your bones, it just means that your head is too big for your helmet which makes you an easier target for all of the opposing defensemen to run your ass over, bigger ego bigger target.” I was breathing heavily after that little tirade, but damn if it didn’t feel good.
Brushing my bangs out of my eyes I gave him the “not impressed” once over, thrilled with the fact that I had finally shut up that smart-ass mouth of his. I turned to finally take my leave knowing that my lead was going to chew my ass out for being gone so long, famous athlete or not.
“But I’m such a great catch, women can’t resist Me.” he said loud enough for me to hear, there was laughter in his tone. Looking back I knew I should have just kept walking, maybe given him the bird or something, but of course the “independent feminist” in me just couldn’t keep walking and ignore the self-righteous bastard.
“Oh my god!” I shouted, again spinning around I stomped back to where Dill stood all confident and proud and hot—no dammit he’s not hot! But he really is so hot, that mother effing cocky grin and his gorgeous blue eyes and his seriously toned out ripped body, my dear Lord in Heaven hallowed be thy name.
I felt like I was Eve in the garden being tempted, only instead of a dumb apple JT Freaking Dillions is standing there looking all cute and cocky, and I’m admitting this though I shouldn’t but, it’s a slight turn on that cockiness. I need a healthy dose of Jesus or Diet Coke after admitting that.
My inner fan girl is screaming at me that its only one date! That it’ll never happen again, once in a lifetime date and I can’t get off my high horse to say yes? ‘Crazy cat-lady’ is what she’s calling me, along with some more choice words that don’t need to be repeated. But of course, my crazy feminist tyrant side just wasn’t on the JT Dillions bandwagon at the time being and of course I listened to her over the crazy fan girl.
“You're not a trophy!” I continued to shout completely forgetting that I was still at work and could definitely get fired over this debacle. “Your names not Stanley last time I checked." I argued though it was a poor argument at that, I can't think rationally around him. He makes me want to spout off the most random things ever and somehow they make sense to him, he makes me want to punch him and kiss him all at the same time—kiss him? Oh my dang. Feminist powers are weakening.
The “Stanley” comment caught him off guard, but of course he understood what I meant which for him made it all the more hilarious. He was laughing so hard I swear he was going to fall over and start rolling around on the floor.
"Oh my god," he gasped standing up straight he reached out for me and somehow managed to wrap his arms around me, though I didn't for some unknown reason put up too much of a fight. "You're perfect." He smiled his laughter subsiding.
"And you're crazy," I grumbled pathetically struggling in his arms because let's face it I didn't want him to let go, but I had to keep up this facade or the cute guy I was talking to will turn back into the player I really wanted to punch.
"Now, let me go I've spent long enough back here that they probably think that we've fallen down the rabbit hole or worse . . ." I suppressed a shudder not because of him but because of the ragging I know I'm going to get if he ever leaves.
He shook his head, "Just say yes." He pulled me closer against him leaning down his breath tickled my ear. "You know you want to,"
I stopped struggling, further lying to myself wasn't getting me anywhere but I couldn't give him the satisfaction. I looked up at him and despite the small cocky smile that tipped the corners of his mouth I saw an uncertainty that surprised me.
I opened my mouth whether to protest or to agree I don't know because he took that small measure of time that I paused to think this crazy out of this world situation and he kissed me. JT Dillions kissed me. And what a hell of a kiss too.
His arms released their hold on me, one hand come up cupping my cheek as the other presses firmly against the small of my back. The kiss was slow, measured he didn't step over any personal boundaries, besides the fact that we were full on making out, but he let me know that he was in control.
I felt my arms wrap around his neck of their own accord. I didn't have any control over anything that was happening; all I knew was that I wanted this. I wanted to be flush up against him and have his mouth take control of mine. I wanted this even when I said I didn’t; I had lied to myself worse than he had lied to me. I was cheating myself by fighting with him when I could have had this almost weeks ago. Whatever the hell this is, because I sure as heck didn’t know what was going to happen next. JT Dillions was kissing me and I was kissing him back.
He was the first to pull away and I hated the loss of his mouth on mine. “That was for the bar last week.” He explained his voice deep and husky almost toe curling. “This is for the game,” he breathed kissing me again his tongue slipping between my parted lips. “And this, this is because you have you have bewitched me, body and soul.” The last kiss was just . . . it was just . . . I don’t want to say ‘perfect’ but damn it wasn’t a let down from all the sexual tension build up we’ve gathered together.
I giggled against his mouth coming up for air. “Why are you reciting Pride & Prejudice?” I asked my fingers tangling themselves into the hair at the back of his neck.
That cocky smile was back. “Isn’t that what you English Majors love? Pride & Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, all those ancient British romance novels by Jane Austen?” his thumb traced a path from my cheekbone to my lower lip tugging it from between my teeth.
“I’m more of an adventure type girl myself when it comes to reading,” I admitted, dipping my chin I kissed the pad of his thumb. Dill rolled his eyes letting out an exasperated sigh, the hand at my hip drawing me closer to him to where my toes barely touched the ground. I held him just as closely, just as tightly against myself.
“Y-yes,” the word spoken so softly it took me a second to realize it had come from me. I ducked my head wanting to hide but he wouldn’t let me, he caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger looking me straight in the eye with such intensity that what little breath I had left in my lungs totally evaporated.
“Yes?” he asked his blue eyes holding me captive. I nodded my head afraid of what my mouth might say.
He kissed me again, tentatively as if he too was afraid. But that was silly hockey players are the toughest athletes out there, thy get paid to score goals and to win cups, but they also get intentionally run into by someone who’s a hell of a lot bigger than they are just to move a piece of rubber further up the ice, he can’t be afraid.
He pulled away first. “I’ll pick you up at five?” I nodded again still slightly dazed and maybe a little speechless. Dill smiled a true genuine smile one that left me slightly breathless as well, he kissed my forehead before untangling himself from my arms walking towards the swinging doors that led back to the main floor of the department.
I couldn’t move, more like I didn’t want to move from this very spot. This spot where JT Dillions kissed me and where I kissed him back. Holy hell, that was worth all the tension and build-up. Definitely worth it in the end, definitely.
“Dill,” I called after him still unable to move, he stopped and looked back that same smile still on his lips. “Do you even know where I live?” good question brain glad you finally decided to come back to planet Bailey.
“Just text me your address when you get off later,” he said having all the answers today.
“Okay,” I waved goodbye watching him disappear back to the real world.
I slid down the rack of boxes my legs finally giving out, I landed on the concrete floor and then proceeded to tip over and lie on the floor as well. I need a medic, I need a Diet Coke and I desperately need to get a hold of Harper and Emma.
I don’t know how long I laid there until my lead Kirsten came to check on me, when she found me she laughed.
“That was probably the coolest thing ever,” she said giving me a hand as she pulled me to my feet. “He explained that you really helped him find a new pair of hunting boots and that you were very nice about it, especially with his weird request of wanting to come back here so fans wouldn’t bother him.”
I only nodded; I was doing that a lot lately, my brain taking a few extra seconds to process all that Kirsten had said. You are one smart son of a gun JT Dillions, a brilliant cover story that saved both our butts since Lord only knows how long we were back here.
“Yeah, weird request for sure, but he’s a really cool down to earth guy.” That really knows how to put those lips to good use. I tugged at the collar of my work polo feeling a bit hot remembering the way his lips felt against mine, man I hoped I wasn’t blushing.
“So, we’ve got a lot to set up for the next ad.” Kirsten said pulling a complete 180 and going back to business, hockey player or no hockey player.
She led me back out to the floor and we set to work at a hard pace to finish the set up for the next ad. I did my best to keep a silly-telling smile off my lips whenever my mind wandered back to what happened in the back room. Five o’clock was going to come faster than ever now and the most logical thing I could think of was . . . what the hell was I going to wear? Typical girly thought I know but hell it was either that or have my whole make-out scene with Dill replay over and over and over again until I short circuited. I couldn’t have that happen because I desperately needed my wits about me whenever he was around. Now I kind of wished that time would slow down, I’m not sure if I’m ready to go out on a date with a NHL player. Here goes nothing and most likely my ever loving sanity.