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Hayes

Demand it.

That's what Maggie told me to do in reference to respect from the team. It's not even remotely my style to  tell someone exactly what I think or need from them. Hell, I can't even tell Maggie that I think I might be in love with her because I'm too chicken shit. 

What does that say about me?

I groan out a sigh as I role to my right and come face to face with the woman who always seems to occupy my thoughts when they dare to drift from the ice. 

She's still asleep, light breaths filtering from her lips, the heat tickling my bare shoulder. Her shoulders are bare as well. I know beneath the duvet she's still naked from the ravishing I gave her when we finally made our way home from the bar last night. I'd stayed out a little longer than I had intended to but I'd stuck to my drink limit and managed to have a good time. In large part that was due to Maggie. 

Isn't everything good in my life these days?

I slip quietly from the bed, sliding into a pair of boxers from my dresser before heading towards my kitchen. Maggie had a few more drinks than I last night and I imagine she'll be looking for something to soak up the alcohol and heal the hangover before long. 

It doesn't take me too long to whip up some French toast. It's a simple enough meal but I figure the carbs and glass of orange juice will be appreciated. 

When I return to my room she's still sprawled across my bed, deep in her dreams looking as beautiful as ever. It occurs to me that I could spend the rest of my mornings of this life like this and be completely at peace. 

It should be a daunting thought but it isn't. I think I've known since the day I met her that she was going to change everything for me. It's no surprise that's proved true. 

The weight of my stare on her must be enough to rouse her, just as I'm setting down her breakfast tray she rolls over and up to a sitting position in the bed. 

"Morning." I whisper, mindful of her probably-throbbing head. 

"Hey handsome." She presses her hands against the duvet and leans up for a kiss which I'm all too eager to give her. 

"How're you feeling?"

She shrugs before turning her attention to the tray of food I'd brought. "I think I'll be feeling great in a moment. Is that French toast?" 

"Indeed." I reply, the side of my mouth lifting into a gentle smile as I turn and grab the plate before taking a seat beside her on the bed. "I figured a good breakfast wouldn't hurt after a few drinks last night."

She bites her lip, her appreciations clear in her eyes as she takes her first bite. "Marry me." She deadpans and a laugh escapes from my throat. "No, for real. This is fucking fantastic. You're so good to me and you make me breakfast in bed. What the hell else could I want?"

"Easy there tiger."

"Too forward?" She asks around another bite of her breakfast.

The truth is that any other woman saying those words, even jokingly, would definitely set off alarm bells. And yet, with us, there is only calm. 

*

Our off days from the post season seem to fly by. A few days of rest, a few more of practice coupled with nights full of Maggie and before I know it the Cyclones find ourselves back on the ice for round two. This time our foe is New Jersey. They're young, scrappy and determined. They'll prove a good opponent but I just have a good feeling about this year. Most teams enjoy some sense of comradery but my team have become my brothers. It's a closeness like I've never experienced in my career and I think it's a sign we just might do something magical this year. 

"Where the fuck have you been this week?"

Jax appears beside me, slinging snow from his skate blades flying up the sides of my pants and I glare at him for a moment. He's on my shit list, even if he seems completely unaware of it. 

"Practice, the gym, with Maggie." I say, keeping my answer short as I work on my puck handling. I need to get my head into this game and I can't do that if all I can think about are thoughts of this asshole with my girl. 

"She still giving you the time of day?" 

"Well, she is my girlfriend you asshole."

"For now." He calls out with a laugh as he skates off. 

Maybe he really does mean it as a joke, but I've lost the ability to give him the benefit of the doubt. I used to consider him my brother like the rest, now he's feeling more like a nuisance. I can't let it appear that way outwardly though. New Jersey is on the ice for warmies too and if they detect the chink in the armor that is my personal beef with Jax, they're liable to use it against us.

I can't let that happen. So instead I force my anger from a raging boil down to a low simmer, hoping to harness those feelings into something I can use out on the ice. 

From puck drop the game is chippy. New Jersey is taking cheap shots at my teammates and it does little to help me downplay my annoyance. Jax himself is doing absolutely nothing to help himself in my book. He's chirping from the get go and it's easy to see he's itching for a fight. The last thing we need is to be a man down in this tied-up game for a penalty or this series for a stupid suspension but he seems hellbent and determined to drop the gloves tonight. 

He finally gets his wish in the third period. A second line defenseman from the other team gets caught up with him after a play and he comes up swinging. By the time we get them separated there's blood on the ice from Jax's hands, I'm pretty sure the other guy has a broken nose and Jax has earned himself an early exit from the game since there's only five minutes left. 

Fuck.

We play the remaining minutes a man down and it looks like we might hang on until over time but a missed hit results in a breakaway for New Jersey and before I even realize what's happened the goal horn sounds from the opposite end and the game ends with the score not in our favor. 

Jax is now firmly solidified on my shit list. 


An: What do we think of this building disdain for Jax from Hayes?

That's gonna come to a head eventually. Any guesses how?

Can't wait for next time! 

ILY,
Sav


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