I didn't want to go home that night either.
The only thought that had got me through the door of my own apartment, putting two doors between Morgan and I, was the fact that I would see him bright and early in the morning.
Morgan had 'made' the same Chinese food that I had bought the first night we met in the elevator. He had insisted that he was a man of many talents, Chinese cuisine being one of them, all the while pushing the red and black boxes of the Chinese restaurant out of my sight.
After dinner we had again moved to the living room and had discovered that we had a favorite show in common and had spent nearly three hours taking turns ranting over our fan theories. In the end Morgan had wanted to prove a point and we had settled down on the couch to rewatch segments and argue some more.
I had picked myself up off the couch earlier than the night before. Morgan had again led me to the door and again we had shared a stare. Something unspoken and unknown filtering between us until I opened the door and disappeared out into the hallway.
My phone ringing on my bathroom counter startles me out of my thoughts as I wrap a towel around my body, having just stepped out of the shower. Nick's icon stares up at me and I accept the call.
"Hi, honey," I say brightly as our Facetime connects and his tired face appears.
"Baby," he says in greeting. His voice husky and his hair a complete disaster.
"I always forget how long your hair is," I muse, leaning against my counter.
He chuckles and runs a tanned hand through the locks, brushing them out and letting them fall across his forehead. "Well, a few more weeks and you get to see them for yourself," he gives me a goofy lopsided smile and I can't help but smile in return.
"You mean you'll still have it then..." I say cautiously and he gives me a look of disbelief.
"You telling me you don't think it's sexy?" He gasps.
"I mean..." I start, looking away from the camera to hide my smile, "I didn't say that."
"Oh wow," Nick laughs, again running a hand through his hair. "Here I was thinking I looked drop dead gorgeous with these luscious locks."
"Are you sure you're looking a mirror when you think that?" I ask and he gives me another look of disbelief and I can't help it anymore and erupt into a fit of giggles.
"You sure are full of it tonight," he muses, after joining me with a soft chuckle.
"I'm just kidding! Mostly at least..."
"Y/N!"
"Kidding!"
Nick shakes his head and looks to the side, as if looking out a window. "God, I miss you."
My heart thumps loudly in my chest and a warm feeling creeps over me.
"I miss you so much more," I murmur.
Even through the phone, the mood changes and I'm reminded of the Nick I got to know in Colorado. The boy I fell in love with.
Nick shakes his head slowly at me. "As corny as it might sound baby, I don't think that's possible right now."
"You'd be surprised," I respond. A shiver runs through me, the warmth of my shower having left me and my damp towel doing nothing to help.
I walk back into my room, bringing the phone with me as I make my way into the closet.
"How many days will you be in Pittsburgh?" Nick asks.
"Three, which is surprising. The boys have a game in Buffalo on Thursday and we fly to Pittsburgh that night, and then they don't play the Pens until Saturday and we leave Sunday morning. It's a weird schedule," I shake my head as I search for my jersey and a pair of shorts.
"The boys," Nick says quietly and I glance back at the screen.
"What?"
"You said 'the boys'."
"Well they are boys," I frown at him, not getting his point.
Nick clears his throat and looks back at me. "It just sounded different that the other times you addressed them, before it was the Leafs, or you just called them Toronto."
I eye him for a moment and then go back to searching.
"You just sound comfortable it all I'm trying to get at," Nick quickly adds, taking my silence a different way apparently. "I'm glad."
"Oh," is all I say as I finally find my jersey and promptly drop my towel.
"Oh no, now I really miss you," Nick groans and a flush runs through my body.
"Get over it pretty boy," I laugh as I pull his jersey over my head and pull on my shorts as gracefully as I can.
Nick sighs and I throw him a wicked smile.
"You never play fair," he complains.
"Oh, don't even," I accuse, "you just got done complaining that I didn't think your hair was sexy."
"I just wanted you to lust over me for a few minutes!"
"Lust over yourself, Nicholas," I say flipping off the light of my bedroom and sliding into bed. The light of my phone making me squint a bit. "Time for bed."
"Fine," Nick drawls out, a playful pout in place that makes me smile. "I love you," he whispers.
"I love you. Goodnight," I whisper back and he winks before ending our call.
I lay in bed a few minutes after putting my phone under my pillow. For once, everything seems perfect. Until I remember Morgan.
I'm attracted to him. Too attracted. But I'm still attracted to Nick, and I'm in a relationship with him. The longest relationship I've ever been in. But so far, it seems Morgan doesn't reciprocate the same attraction and that's okay. That's ideal in fact. The last thing I need is to let my guard down and end up doing something I would regret.
Sleep comes easy and when it comes, it comes hard.
I sleep through my alarm and only when my phone rings for the third time do I wake up.
"Hello?" I grumble into the phone, trying to wipe the sleep from my eyes.
"Are you still sleeping?" Morgan's voice comes through to me and I sit straight up in bed.
I glance at the curtains and see the bright rays of the morning sun shining through.
"Oh no," I groan and scramble out of bed and tear down the hallway.
Morgan's laughs into the phone and as I reach the front door and swing it open, his laugh echoes.
"I'm so sorry!" I exclaim, gasping for breath. Running first thing in the morning is no easy feat.
Morgan stares at me in amusement, in his hand he somehow holds two coffee cups from across the street, the other still holding his phone. His eyes travel from my bare feet, to my bare legs and up to my face.
"I didn't know you had so much hair," he muses.
I flail my hands to my hair and can feel it sticking out in every direction, a mess of curls and straight pieces that always annoy the heck out of me.
After a moment of panic, I take a deep breath and decide to just endure the embarrassment.
"Well, now you know one more thing about me," I sigh, stepping to the side in defeat to let him in. "I am not a morning person."
"I wouldn't say that," Morgan disagrees, moving past me to the kitchen. "You look very refreshed."
"Are you making fun of me?" I say, following after him.
"And apparently very sensitive," he adds and I roll my eyes, only to hide the small smile.
He glances at me, a smile very firmly in place until his eyes drift back to the jersey I wear. A slight falter shadows the smile and a beat of awkward silence goes between us. The first since I met him.
"Well, I'm going to change quick," I say clearing my throat and Morgan nods, turning back to the counter and placing our coffees on the counter.
"I'll be here."
When I emerge a few minutes later, my hair tamed after a few paces of a hair straightener and my body fully covered with a pair of jeans and my favorite shirt, Morgan is sitting at the counter staring out my window.
"So, what did you want for breakfast?" I ask, announcing my appearance.
His eyes flick to me, and I don't miss the fast track they do down my body, before answering.
"Whatever you want," he replies and the smile that he had when he first walked in returns.
Thirty minutes later Morgan finishes his omelet and pushes his plate away, letting out an obnoxious groan. I raise my eyebrows at him, my fork hovering between my plate and my mouth.
"Are you finally full?" I ask him. I've never had to put so many eggs into an omelet before.
"Painfully," he nods though he eyes my plate.
"Back off, blondie," I protectively pull my plate closer to me.
"Who eats their bacon last?"
"It's the best part!"
"That means you eat it first," Morgan shakes his head at me.
"No, mean you eat it last so the taste lasts longer," I correct him, biting at piece before pointing it at him.
A mistake on my part because he leans forward quicker than I thought possible and takes a bite as well.
"Hey!" I yell and pull it back towards me. "I can't believe you just ate my bacon!"
"I can and it was delicious," he says, swallowing and looking like he wants more.
"Morgan!"
He gives me another goofy grin and gets off his stool, clearing the plates and mess we made before I could protest.
"Eat up, Y/L/N. Time to kick your ass in scrabble."
-
"Morgan, that's not a word!" I exclaim for the fifth time since we sat down at the dining room table, the board spread out between us. Morgan was trying to get me to believe 'Marmth' was a word.
"I'm pretty sure it is," Morgan nods and tries to move another piece but I reach across the table and grab his wrist.
"Use it in a sentence," I press and his smirk twitches for a second.
He looks to the right of me and stammers for several seconds, trying to form words but none coming to mind.
"That's what I thought," I nod and remove my hand from his wrist, and push his letters back to him. "You lose a turn."
"Oh come on!" Morgan groaned, running a frustrated hand through his now very mussed up hair. "At least give me a chance!"
"Cheaters don't get second chances," I level him with what I hope is a stern stare and he rolls his eyes.
"Besides," I add, pulling my last letters off my stand and sliding them into place. "Warmth is a word and I just won."
Morgan stares in disbelief at the board.
"But, I was... that's... oh come one!"
I erupt into a fit of giggles at his expression. It looks like it's causing him physical pain to stare his defeat in the eye.
He flings himself back in his chair and rubs his face.
"That's it. We need a different game," he looks up to see my smirk and his eyes darken.
I eye him as he does the same to me. I can see something being calculated in his mind, a plan being formed. He casually stands up and I sit straighter in my chair. I watch as he turns his back to me, slowly strolling into my living room and his confidence came back with a vengeance.
With his back to me I noticed for the first time his clothing. Never in my life have I been so grateful for finely tailored pants and the absurd amount of money that hockey players make to be able to afford them.
My admiration is cut off by Morgan turning back to face me and I pressed my lips together hoping that I hadn't been caught staring.
"I notice you don't have any sort of gaming system," he says and I frown at him.
"That's not true, I have Wii to play Mario Kart on," I point and Morgan gives me a 'really' look.
But he bites his lip, regarding me closely and I squirm under his stare.
"How good do you think you are at Call of Duty?"
I pale and he smiles in triumph.
"Get your coat, we're going shopping."