Romance Back on the Ice

Even as the thought crossed her mind, she felt her toes curl and a single moment of weightlessness swept over her. Then she was coming, her muffled cries swallowed by Mark and her body convulsed under his. Even with her body trembling around him, Mark maintained his steady thrusting; the only sign of reaction an increase in his breathing.

Hilary held on as he continued to rock against her. Every thrust rubbed his body against hers and made her vibrate with the remaining waves of her orgasm. She didn't know how he was managing it and wanted to tell him to hurry up. She wanted to feel him let go. He pulled his lips from hers and buried his face against her neck. The car was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and the slow, erotic push of their bodies together.

"Oh Christ," Mark groaned and his body jerked within her embrace.

Hilary sighed and held him close as he came. She grinned as he thrust erratically for a long moment and then was still. All that remained was the steady drumming of their hearts where they were pressed together.

"I can't believe we just did that," Mark murmured and lifted his head to look into her face.

Hilary felt heat suffuse her cheeks and nodded in reply, unable to voice her thoughts. There were just too many and they were too jumbled up to make any sense of them. For a long minute, they just stared into each other's eyes. Hilary melted under his soft gaze and felt her heart stutter when a gentle smile curved his full lips.

"Can you forgive me?" he asked.

"Forgive you?" she replied and shook her head, trying to clear it. He was still inside of her, and she could still feel the lingering pulse of their lovemaking deep inside her body. "For what?"

He opened his mouth to reply but a nearby car beeped as someone activated the keyless entry. Hilary froze, her eyes going wide as the reality of their situation sank back in. Mark shushed her with a finger over her lips; as if she was going to say anything to alert anyone to their presence. Footsteps sounded very close to them and then a car door opened and closed. The engine started and fired as the car moved away, fading into an echo as it left the parking garage.

"I can't believe we did this," Hilary managed to say, her voice coming out as little more than a squeak.

Mark chuckled and nodded his agreement. He shifted, separating their bodies and carefully pulling her clothes back together for her. An unexpected knot formed in her stomach at his gentle actions, and Hilary blinked against the stinging in her eyes. At every new moment, Mark surprised her and made it harder to figure out how she felt about him. The stinging, negative emotions rushed back through her as she tugged her jacket closed. Mark looked into her face for a moment, questions obvious in his gaze, but he didn't say anything. It was like he sensed she wasn't ready to explain and he let it go, straightening his own pants instead.

A minute later, he gestured at her to stay down while he lifted his head up to look around outside the car. "It's all right," he said. "There's no one around."

Still blushing and more confused than ever, Hilary sat up and ran a hand through her tangled hair. Mark met her eyes and grinned, causing her blush to spread. He leaned forward to steal a kiss before he opened the door and climbed out. He held a hand out towards her and helped her out. They got into the front seat, like normal people who hadn't just dissolved in a fit of passion in the back seat. A few minutes later, they were on their way to his place.

Later, in his bed, Mark made love to her like he'd wanted to, like she deserved. He didn't know what had come over him back at Verizon Center. He couldn't believe he'd taken her in the middle of the parking garage. Even more surprising was the fact that she'd allowed it. In the back of his mind, he supposed it might have been his way of claiming her before he had to leave town. She deserved better than that.

On the drive back to his place, he mentally slapped himself upside the head and kicked himself in the ass. Hilary wasn't like other women and he'd just treated her like a common tart. However willing she might have been, he could do better. He wanted to do better for her.

So once they got back to his place, he gathered her into his arms without a word and took her to his bed. She melted into his embrace, just as easily as she had when they'd been at the arena. Mark undressed her and laid her on his bed, caressing her all over until she was moaning with pleasure. He loved listening to her, and hearing her stifling her cries in the back seat of his car had nearly done him in earlier. It had been a miracle he'd lasted as long as he had.

Now, the memory faded as he undressed himself and knelt between her thighs. He drove her mad with his fingers and tongue before sliding his aching cock inside her. She clung to his shoulders, arching off the bed and exposing her beautiful, flushed throat to him. He kissed her, dragging his tongue over her skin until their lips met again in a passionate kiss.

Much later, after they were both sweaty and exhausted, Mark wanted to talk to her. He wanted to talk about his road trip and what it would mean to their relationship now that he was heading back into the lineup. Neither of them were in the right frame of mind for the discussion ,and when Hilary curled up against his side with a satisfied sigh, Mark decided it could wait.

Sometime during the night, he stirred. He reached one arm out, instinctively searching for the warm body and felt nothing but cool sheets. Lifting his head, he stared around the dim bedroom and frowned when he saw no sign of Hilary. He pushed the covers back and searched blindly on the floor until he located his underwear. Standing up, he pulled the boxers on and walked out of the room to look for Hilary.

He didn't have to go far; she was stretched out on his couch, watching TV with the sound very low. "Hey," he greeted her and lifted her legs up to sit down. She was wearing her Capitals T-shirt and nothing else, making him hard in an instant.

"Hey," she replied and smiled. "Did I wake you?"

He shook his head as he settled with her legs in his lap. She shivered as he ran his palms up and down her legs, stopping with his fingers caressing the backs of her knees. "No," he answered. "I just woke up to find you gone."

"Sorry," she murmured and rested her head back on the arm rest. "I couldn't sleep."

"Everything all right?" he asked, telling himself that he had to listen to her response and not think about sliding his hands between her luscious thighs. He glanced up to see her shrug. The smile was still on her face and her eyes looked sleepy.

"Well, why don't you come back to bed and I'll help you get to sleep?" he suggested, sliding one of his hands further up the back of her thigh as he watched her face.

Her eyes drifted shut and she sighed. Mark licked his lips and eased his fingers around her thigh until he felt her damp curls.

"Haven't you had enough?" she asked, opening her eyes to give him a playful look.

Mark shook his head, caressing her as he watched her face. "I can't get enough of you," he replied and it was the truth.

Her expression changed, the playfulness disappeared and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Mark smiled, drawing his fingers from between her legs and rubbing his palm over her soft hip instead.

"Tell me what's wrong," he urged, wanting to make her feel better, and not just so he could take her to bed again.

"It's silly."

Lifting his eyebrows, Mark smiled. "If it's keeping you up at night, it's not silly."

Hilary managed a weak smile and she struggled to lift herself up. Mark held onto her, pulling her into his lap and holding her around the waist when she tried to move to sit beside him. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, her cheek, and the hollow of her throat before meeting her eyes again.

"Talk to me," he murmured.

He felt her relax against him and grinned at the tiny victory. Bit by bit, she changing from the abrupt and prickly Hilary he'd first met, and every time she relaxed with him, he felt the success deep in his bones.

"I'm worried," she began and stopped.

"About what?" he prompted, lifting a hand to brush her silky blond hair over her shoulder. He wanted to kiss the skin he'd just exposed but he waited to listen to her response.

"You're leaving tomorrow," she confessed and his eyes went back to her face.

"I'm not leaving for war, Hilary," he said with a smile. "I can talk on the phone and I'll be back in a few days."

"I know," she replied, her eyelashes dropping low over her blue eyes. "We've just... this isn't a normal relationship."

Mark's eyebrows went up and his smile grew wider. "Isn't it? I guess most people don't have it this good, but we're far from being unique."

She shoved him, a smile curving her lips up at the corners. "You know what I mean. You aren't around like normal boyfriends."

"That's true," he agreed. The life he led didn't make it easy to maintain a steady relationship. So far, he'd kept himself limited to casual dating but he wanted more from Hilary. He thought she knew that, but from the way she was speaking now, he wondered if she did.

"I don't want you to think I don't want you to have a good time on the road," she said. "I know how excited you are to be traveling with the team again."

"Yeah?" Mark replied, unsure where she was going with this.

"It can't be easy trying to stay in touch while you're traveling," she added and glanced up at him.

He looked back and forth between her eyes, trying to figure her out. She sounded nervous, a rare tone from her; more than anything, she usually sounded sharp. Listening to her now, sharing with him like this gave him a strange mixed feeling of happiness and wariness. "I will call you, Hilary," he said at last. "I don't want to lose touch with you over the next nine days."

She didn't say anything, just looked into his eyes for a moment before turning her face away. "I know how... tempting it can be," she whispered. "On the road, with all the... women..." she let her sentence trail off but Mark knew what she was saying and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why she would think that about him.

"I'm not going to sleep with anyone else while I'm gone, Hilary," he said, perhaps a touch sharper than he'd intended.

She kept quiet again, biting her lower lip and keeping her eyes averted. Clenching his jaw, Mark reached up and cupped her chin in his hand, turning her to face him.

"Hilary," he whispered her name. "I wouldn't do that to you. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

Shrugging, she met his eyes. "You haven't gone away yet," she replied. "We've been together almost every day since we met and we don't know what it'll be like with you on the road."

"I'm not going to cheat on you, if that's what you think."

"I don't," she said quickly.

"Then why are you even bringing it up? What made you think that?"

Hilary opened her mouth to reply then snapped it shut, a blush staining her cheeks as she shook her head.

"Hilary, come on," Mark urged. "I don't understand. You have to explain this to me so I can make it right."

He guessed he'd chosen the right words because the hint of a smile came back to her face.

"I never told you about my ex-boyfriend," she said in a soft tone.

Mark's eyebrows shot up and he shook his head, never taking his eyes from Hilary's face. An ex-boyfriend, he thought. So some asshole cheated on her and she hasn't trusted anyone since. That would sure explain a lot. Out loud, he said, "What about him?"

"You don't want to know," she replied with a frustrated sigh. She shifted on his lap and he thought she might be trying to get up. He wouldn't let her go. He hadn't come this far, and tried this hard with her, to give up now.

"I want to know everything about you, Hilary," he whispered and moved his hand to cup the back of her head as he kissed her. He teased her lips with his tongue and squeezed her waist as he pulled her closer.

"You're definitely not what I thought you'd be," she whispered when he pulled back.

"No? What were you expecting?" he asked with a smirk, even though they'd had this conversation before. In the past, she'd told him she'd thought he'd be more arrogant, cocky and even a snob.

Now she smiled at him and touched his cheek as she leaned close for a kiss. "I thought you'd have given up on me by now," she told him.

"Why?" he asked with a chuckle.

"I haven't exactly been easy to get along with. I don't understand why you still like me."

"Neither do I," he confessed and laughed when she poked him in the ribs, hard. "I'm just kidding." Reaching up with both hands now, he brushed her hair over her shoulders and cupped her face in his hands. She smiled so sweetly at him, looking so apprehensive, that he felt a pull deep in his stomach. "I've never been one to back down from a challenge."

Her eyebrows lifted and a wry smile spread across her face. "I'm a challenge? Is that all you see me as? Like a... a... like a game seven away from home?"

He laughed and shook his head, drawing her close so he could kiss her. "You're much more difficult to crack than that," he replied. "I mean it, Hil. I want to know everything about you." He paused to brush their lips together. "So start with the loser you mentioned before."

Sighing heavily, Hilary put her hands on his shoulders and met his steady gaze. "It wasn't just one guy."

"You were dating multiple men?" he asked incredulously.

She smacked him on the arm this time and he laughed until she started squirming in his lap. Dropping his hands, he grasped her hips to hold her still, determined to focus on her words and not how warm she felt against his body.

"I wasn't dating more than one guy at a time," she clarified in a haughty tone. "What I meant was, I wasn't... screwed over by just one guy. It was several."

In a slow and halting voice, she told him about her romantic past. The guy in high school who'd only been seeing her for help with his homework. The jerk at summer camp who'd had a bet with his friends to see if she was a natural blond. The numerous guys between adolescence and adulthood who'd never followed through on different occasions and lastly the guy who'd left her for a younger woman he'd knocked up.

Mark listened patiently, feeling stranger and stranger the longer she spoke. He couldn't explain the burning sensation in his gut and he didn't understand the tension he felt sinking into his shoulders. Hilary was still warm and naked beneath the T-shirt, and he was still throbbing for more than just her sitting in his lap. Something kept him from laying her down on the couch and making her forget all about those other dumbasses.

"So you're afraid I'm going to treat you like every other guy in your life?" he summarized when she fell silent.

A guilty blush spread across her cheeks but she didn't back down from his direct question. She nodded and met his gaze head-on.

"That can't be all," he murmured, frowning now. He sensed that she was still holding something back. She'd shared a lot with him just now, more than she had in all the days since they'd first met, but he still had the feeling that there was something missing.

"We don't need to rehash my sad boyfriend history, Mark," she whispered. "I think I want to forget about them and move on."

"But you aren't," he replied. "Moving on, I mean. You're... abrupt and bad-tempered more than you're in a good mood when we're together. I've been patient, Hil, because I want to know you but you're still not letting me in."

"What do you want me to do, Mark?" she demanded, dropping her hands from his shoulders and pulling away. "This is who I am. I'm not pretending to be anything or anyone else and this still isn't good enough for you?"

"It's not good enough because it's not you," he replied and she scrambled off his lap, leaving him feeling cold.

"We've only known each other a few weeks," she said. "You think you know me, but you don't."

"I've been asking you all along to tell me!" Mark snapped, feeling frustrated. He didn't want to yell at her or fight but she was deliberately keeping parts of herself closed off. Maybe it was early in their relationship, but they'd skipped a lot of the preliminaries when they'd first hooked up.

"What if I don't want to?" she threw back at him. "You seem like a nice guy but what do I really know about you?" she demanded and stood up with her hands on her hips. "You're a hockey player who twisted his ankle four weeks ago. That's it."

"You know more about me than that," he replied, not liking how she was turning this around on him.

"Like what?" she asked with a harsh laugh. "I don't know what you're like on the road, or how you are in a relationship while you're traveling with the team. We haven't got to that part yet and I've got to say, you're not filling me with a lot of confidence here, Mark."

Huffing out an annoyed breath, Mark stood up and moved away, pacing his living room floor as he ran his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair. "Look," he said, holding his hands out towards Hilary. "I think this is all going in the wrong direction."

"What is? Our relationship?"

"No, of course not. I just mean right now, this conversation. I never intended to upset you," he replied.

"Well, you're been doing a bang up job of it," Hilary commented sarcastically as she crossed her arms over her chest.

He scowled at her. She met his look with a narrow one of her own and for a long moment, neither of them said anything.

"Maybe we just need a break," he suggested. "Let's go back to bed and sleep on it. We can talk in the morning."

She shook her head and walked past him.

"Hilary, come on." Mark followed after her as she stalked to the bedroom. "I don't want to fight. We need to talk about this."

"I'm done talking," she replied as she shoved her feet through her pant legs.

"Don't be like that. I just think we need to get some sleep and talk tomorrow."

"You're gone tomorrow!" she exploded, grabbing her underwear and bra from the floor and whirling on him. Her beautiful blue eyes were cold and snapping with anger. "We can't talk about this in the morning!"

Mark reached for her to try to stop her again but she dodged his grasp, running from the bedroom. He hurried down the hall after her, still pleading with her to calm down and talk to him.

"I can't do this anymore, Mark," she replied as she yanked her jacket on. "I thought I could but I just can't."

"Can't do what?" he asked, his stomach dropping at the resignation in her tone. He didn't like how this was happening. He'd been frustrated minutes ago but now he was fighting the urge to fall to his knees and beg her to stay. His pride wouldn't allow him to; that and the fact that he didn't think he'd been asking too much of her to share her thoughts with him. "You can't talk to me? We always talk."

Hilary shook her head and when she met his eyes, there were tears in hers. He swallowed and reached for her again. This time she let him pull her close but she turned her face away when he tried to kiss her. It felt like he'd been sucker-punched.

"Us, Mark," she murmured and pushed his hands away. "I can't do... us. I'm sorry." She turned and stepped into her shoes, opening the door at the same time.

Mark stood there staring out into his hallway as she walked away. He couldn't believe it had come to this. "Hilary!" he called, darting out his door. She was already down at the far end, but his cry made her jump and turn around. "I'm going to call you tomorrow."

She stared at him but said nothing before turning away and leaving. Mark sighed heavily and shut the door, locking himself inside his lonely apartment.

Mark did call Hilary the next day and got the machine. He didn't know if she was not home, or if she was refusing to answer him so he left a message, imploring her to call him back.

"I'll take your call no matter what time, or what I'm doing," he said, not caring if he sounded like a whipped boyfriend. He still didn't think he'd done anything wrong but he just wanted the chance to talk to her again. If that meant apologizing for pushing too hard the night before, then he would.

The plane ride was uneventful and the guys gave him a hard time for calling his girlfriend as soon as they landed. He ignored them, even flipping off Brody who mocked him more than the others. He tried to focus when they got to the arena for the game later that afternoon, but he was utterly distracted. For the first time since his injury, he figured it was a good thing he wasn't playing. He'd have been a huge target without his mind on the game.

Later, at the hotel, he tried calling Hilary again and this time, Lena answered.

"She's out, Mark," she told him. "There was some friends of ours who wanted to see a movie so she went with them."

"Oh. All right," he replied dully. "How come you didn't want to go?"

"I told Anatoli I'd wait for his call after the game."

"Lucky guy," Mark murmured and ended the call.

He lay alone in his hotel bed for hours, just staring at the ceiling. He went over and over their disastrous conversation in his mind, wondering how and when he'd lost it. Hearing Hilary talk about her ex-boyfriends and how they'd hurt her had bothered him. What bothered him more than anything, was that she seemed to be comparing him to them.

When he was being objective, he supposed that most people did the same thing; compared their current lover to past relationships. It just hurt to have it thrown in your face like that. He didn't think Hilary had done it intentionally. He'd asked her to share, so she had.

She could have been nicer about it, he thought in one of his more irrational moments. She didn't have to snap at me just because I didn't like hearing about it.

That seemed to be Hilary's way. She was defensive and abrasive, rather than meek and needy, something he'd always found oddly attractive.

Maybe she was telling the truth, he pondered later, rolling over to stare out the window. That is the way she is and I should just deal with it.

He would deal with it, if she'd just call him back.

Sighing, Mark pressed his face into his pillow and groaned out his frustration. It was at that moment that his roommate, Brody, chose to walk in.

"Dude, you have got to stop beating yourself up over her," Brody said as he walked through the room and flopped onto his own bed.

"You don't even know what you're talking about," Mark snapped and rolled to face the other direction.

Brody chuckled and wouldn't leave him alone. "I can tell something's gone wrong," he commented after a minute. "You were so excited to come on this road trip, and now you're acting like you'd rather be home on your crutches again."

"No, I'm not," Mark replied and looked over his shoulder at Brody. "I've been waiting weeks to join the team again."

"Then stop being such a pansy and get over it!"

Mark scowled at his roommate before chucking a pillow at him.

"Seriously, man," Brody said, catching the pillow neatly. "What's she done to make you this way?"

"I don't know," Mark replied honestly, rolling onto his back to resume staring at the ceiling. "I just don't know."

Brody blew his breath out in a low whistle. "Well, I don't know why you and the Anatolis bother with relationships. Women are more trouble than they're worth."

Mark glanced sideways at his teammate and smiled. "Sounds like you've been burned a few times, Lang. Anything you want to talk about?"

Brody responded with a derisive snort. Chuckling, Mark put his arms behind his head and thought about the implications of that. If someone like Brody - a tough guy and a steadfast friend - can be hurt by past relationships, then someone like Hilary could easily be as well. Maybe badly enough that she unconsciously sabotaged any other relationships that came along. With another sigh, he tried to put it out of his mind so he could get some sleep.

Alone in her apartment after a long day at work, Hilary hit the 'play' button on the answering machine for the fourth time. Mark's deep voice filled the room and she shivered.

"Hil, it's me. I'm in Montreal and I wish you'd pick up the phone. I want to talk to you. I don't want it to end that way. Please, just... answer when I call next time." He paused and gave a short laugh. "And Lena, if you're listening to this one too, I'm sorry." There it ended.

The machine beeped and whirred to a stop. Hilary pressed 'play' again. Lena wasn't home from work yet and Hilary figured she had another hour before her roommate arrived. So she had another hour to indulge herself by replaying Mark's message repeatedly before deleting it.

How does he do this to me? she asked herself, closing her eyes as Mark's deep voice slid through her. His message, even as brief as it was, did more to her body than any man had ever been able to do in person. A message!

Shuddering, Hilary smacked her hand down on the machine and clicked 'erase' before the message stopped playing. She ran her hands through her hair and pressed her palms to her closed eyes while trying to get her breathing under control. Eventually she straightened and walked into the kitchen, looking for something, anything, to take her mind off of Mark and his earnest message.

Five minutes later, the vodka was burning a trail down her throat and she was staring mindlessly at the blank television screen. Even as she lifted the bottle to her lips again, she thought, this isn't going to help at all.

It just dulled the pain a little bit.

He's just mad that he won't have his regular booty call when he gets back, she thought and swirled the vodka in her mouth before swallowing. I'm sure he hooked up with some hot chick as soon as he hung up the phone!

Scowling now, Hilary took a big swig of the liquor and sputtered as it went down the wrong way. Groaning, she set the bottle on the table in front of her, deciding that drinking was the wrong thing for her. She lay sideways on the couch and lifted the remote control, flicking the TV on and gaped when she saw the Capitals game.

Unbelievable, she thought, shaking her head. I can't even escape into mindless programming.

She lifted the remote control to change the channel but couldn't quite bring herself to do it. Instead, she turned up the volume and listened to catch up on the game. Washington was winning and Hilary smiled, glad that her team was doing so well tonight.

I wonder if Mark's on the ice yet, she thought and chewed on her lower lip as her eyes scanned the moving shapes on screen. Then she saw the players changing lines and there he was; number 52, moving swiftly and smoothly up the ice with his teammates.

Hilary didn't realize she was holding her breath until Mark skated off after his shift and she let it out. Leaning back on the couch, she pressed her hand to her forehead and stared at the screen. Play was halted for an offside call and the ice crew skated out to clear the ice in front of the goalies. In the meantime, the commentators spoke about Mark Gaines and his return to the line-up.

"He's been in practice for about a week now," the first speaker said as the camera zoomed in on Mark where he sat on the bench, sandwiched between Oborotenski and Lang. "And we were getting reports that his injury wasn't as bad as they'd originally suspected."

"It certainly looks like he's made a quick recovery," the second reporter agreed. "He's had a few great shifts out there already and doesn't appear to be favoring his leg at all."

The screen changed from Mark sitting on the bench to highlights of his play so far in the game. Hilary bit back a gasp as Mark made a couple hits and covered her eyes altogether when he took a hit from one of the opponents. She didn't hear another word that was said between the two commentators as they finished discussing Mark Gaines and in another minute, play resumed.

Hilary couldn't watch anymore. Her anxiety over watching Mark, so fresh from an injury, was too much for her to deal with. After shutting the TV off, she went to her room and closed the door. For a minute, she just stood in the middle of her bedroom, staring at the walls, her desk, her bed. Her eyes lingered on her bed and her body flushed as she recalled all the time she'd spent with Mark in it.

He really is a great guy, she thought and walked over to sit down on her bed. He can't help it that I'm a mess with relationships.

Of course, she'd never beaten herself up quite so badly over a guy before. It was always their fault, after all. She was the victim.

As the thought rushed through her, she sat down on her bed and stared wide-eyed at the opposite wall.

Am I? she asked herself. Am I always the victim or am I the one ruining my relationships?

She scoffed a second later, reminding herself of the times when she'd definitely been the wronged party. Like when John, her college boyfriend - a hockey player- had cheated on her while at an away game.

That wasn't my fault, she told herself, still staring at the wall. Her mind started to recall memories of her other boyfriends. The reasons for some break-ups were very clear, like John, but then there were others that made no sense to her now.

"Holy shit," she breathed and touched her cheek.

Her mind was whirling. John, the jerk, had cheated of course, making that decision more than easy for her. There was also Henry, a nice guy who had come on a little too strong, too soon. What's wrong with that, really? she asked herself. And Tyler; he spent his weekends playing SOCOM with his friends. That's harmless enough, isn't it? He'd been a perfect gentleman to Hilary the rest of the time.

Rob, with the funky haircut. Paul, who drove a rusted pick-up truck. Jamie, who laughed through his nose. Peter, who'd said he loved her and freaked her out so badly, she'd never even called to tell him it was over.

Hilary's mind was reeling as she took stock of her past relationships. She lay back on her bed and held a hand to her forehead. She hadn't been lying to Mark when she'd told him about her boyfriends. None of them had been right and, after finding John in bed with another woman, it had skewed her view of other men afterward.

In fact, after John had stomped all over her heart, she hadn't even been attracted to the same type of guys as she had before. She'd started to deliberately go for the bad boy, the ones she knew would treat her badly.

I don't deserve that, she thought, feeling tears prick her eyes.

The phone ringing startled her. She jumped off the bed and raced down the hallway but couldn't get to the phone in time. The answering machine beeped and recorded a familiar voice as he left a message.

"Hi Lena, and Hilary!" Anatoli Oborotenski chirped in his thick Russian accent. "I hope you guys aren't sleeping and you're watching our game."

Hilary giggled as she listened. Anatoli was such a good guy and had such a great sense of humor. Even Hilary, jaded as she apparently was, smiled when Anatoli was around.

"I shouldn't be calling and I bet Mark is trying to call right now, too," Anatoli went on and his mention of Mark made Hilary's stomach tense up. "I just wanted to say 'hi' and that you'd better call me when you get home, my Lena. You know I have to hear your voice before I sleep."

Hilary suddenly felt like she was eavesdropping. Blushing, she walked back to her bedroom and shut the door. She heard the muffled sound of Anatoli's voice for another minute before the machine clicked and whirred at the end of his message. As she sat back down on the bed, the phone rang again and she laughed, shaking her head. This time, she didn't bother rushing for the phone; she merely stuck her head out of her room to listen to the message instead.

"Hil, it's me. I thought you'd be home from work by now," Mark said, making Hilary's heart skip several beats. "I guess you might be and maybe you're just ignoring me." Here he sighed noisily. "I wish you'd answer. I just want to talk to you. I don't want to leave things the way we did. I don't... I don't know. Hilary, please, just call me. I... I miss you."

Hilary gasped as the message ended, surprised when tears left wet tracks on her cheeks. She hadn't even realized she was crying until one slipped over her lip. Patting her cheek, she walked out to the front room to play Mark's message again. As she stood there, letting Mark's deep voice wash over her, the phone rang again, scaring her almost out of her skin.

Without thinking, she reached over and answered.

"Hilary!" Anatoli's jubilant voice cried on the other end. "I just called and no one answered."

"I just... got home," Hilary replied lamely.

"I left a message for Lena but I forgot to tell her when I'll be at the hotel. Can you tell her?"

"Of course," Hilary agreed, relieved that it hadn't been Mark trying to call again. She made a note as Anatoli told her when he'd be back at the hotel.

"How are you, Hilary?" Anatoli asked after.

"I'm fine," she answered. She didn't think Mark would have told his teammates everything that had happened between them, but maybe Lena had spilled the beans to Anatoli. "Shouldn't you be going over a game plan with the team right now?" she asked, trying to sound light.

"I don't need it," Anatoli scoffed, making Hilary laugh. "I would rather talk to you."

"Oh, that's so sweet, Obie. I won't tell Lena."

"And I won't tell Mark."

At the mention of Mark's name again, Hilary's stomach clenched and she sucked in a breath.

"Hil? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she whispered. "Actually, I'm kind of tired."

"You know, Mark talks about you all the time," Anatoli said, not taking her hint. "I think you've..." he paused, trying to come up with a word. His English was outstanding, considering how long he'd been in the country, but every once in a while, he couldn't think of the right phrase or word. "He's different," he finished.

"Different?" Hilary repeated. "How?" Do I want to know? she added silently.

"He was happy when he was injured but now he's playing and he's not so happy. I think he misses you."

There was no unit of measure to tell how much that pleased Hilary. She desperately wanted to believe that Anatoli was telling the truth. "I don't know about that, Obie," she replied. "I think he just needs to get his focus back and he'll be fine."

"No, he's OK on the ice. But he's sad and doesn't talk when the games aren't on. I think he misses watching them with you."

"I think he'd much rather play the games than watch. Wouldn't you?"

"Of course," Anatoli agreed with a laugh. "Are you watching the game tonight?"

"Yeah," Hilary lied, glancing guiltily at the blank television screen across the room. "You guys are doing great."

"I know," Anatoli agreed, making Hilary laugh again. "I'll tell Mark you're watching the game and maybe he'll feel better."

"No, you don't have to, Obie," Hilary said.

"I will. If he knows you're watching, then he'll do better."

"I don't know about that."

"Trust me," Obie told her.

Just then, the door to the apartment opened and Lena walked in. They met each other's gaze and smiled in greeting. "Oh, Lena just walked in. You want to talk to her?" Hilary asked Anatoli.

"No, that's OK," Anatoli replied. "I've got to go back to work. You tell her I called to talk to you, not her!"

Hilary laughed and agreed as Anatoli ended the call. She hung up the phone and smiled at her roommate.

"Who was that?" Lena asked as she embraced her friend with a tired sigh.

"Obie," Hilary said. "He said he only wanted to talk to me."

Lena laughed along with her, not in the least threatened by Hilary's words. They both knew how devoted Lena's boyfriend was, which was why Anatoli could get away with jokes like that.

"Man, I'm exhausted," Lena exclaimed as she plopped down on the couch.

Hilary joined her on the couch and they chatted for a few minutes. Lena picked up the remote control and turned on the game as they spoke, smiling when she saw the highlights from the first period.

"I think I'm going to go put on my PJ's and watch the end of the game," Lena announced. "You want some tea?"

Hilary nodded and walked into the kitchen to put the water on to boil.

"Oh, there's a message on the machine," Lena said as she walked by the table with the machine. She clicked the 'play' button and Anatoli's voice filled the room.

Hilary made a show of plugging her ears against the intimate message, making her friend laugh as the message ended.

"He said to call after the game is done and they're at the hotel," Hilary added as Hilary deleted the message.

"All right," Lena said and watched as the machine clicked on to the second message; Mark.

"Oh jeez," Hilary exclaimed and rushed to try to delete it, but Lena scowled. She held Hilary off, listening to the entire message.

"Hil," Lena breathed as Mark's voice ended and the machine whirred back to the beginning. "Why didn't you tell me he's been calling?"

Hilary shrugged. Somehow, in the past few days, she'd managed to keep Mark's messages from Lena. After their fight, Hilary had told Lena that they were through, even if the exact words hadn't been spoken. Now she was horribly embarrassed to be caught red-handed, so to speak.

"Hilary, he's over the moon for you!" Lena exclaimed, holding her friend's arms and looking into her face. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"I don't know," Hilary replied in a small voice, feeling tears gather behind her eyelids. She felt herself being tugged into a warm hug and her breath stuttered in her chest. She hugged Lena back and after a few minutes, her roommate got the entire story out of her, including her thoughts about punishing herself.

"Don't be stupid," Lena admonished her after listening. "You don't deserve all the jerks you've dated."

"Then how else do you explain it?" Hilary asked, wiping the dampness from her cheeks. Somehow, they'd moved back to the couch and the TV was quietly playing the Capitals game.

"You're just making bad decisions," Lena replied. "Like now. You're pushing Mark away because you think you don't deserve him."

Hilary stared at her friend and blushed before mumbling, "but I don't deserve him."

"Why don't you let him decide?" Lena asked. "If he's been calling you every day since he left, he obviously doesn't want it to be over." She paused and gave Hilary a hard look. "Do you want it to be over?"

Hilary shrugged, unsure of anything anymore. Did she want to give Mark up? Did she think she didn't deserve someone as fantastic as him? Had her relationship with John screwed her up that badly? Or was she just making excuses because she was scared that someone might actually care for her?

Slowly the thought settled in her mind, along with the other details from her break-up with John, and Hilary stared up at her friend.

"What?" Lena asked, smiling at Hilary's bewildered expression.

"I just... I think I know what's wrong," Hilary replied.

"Good!" Lena exclaimed and patted her shoulder. "You want to tell me?"

Hilary shook her head. She loved her roommate but she wanted to figure this out for herself. The kettle on the stove whistled, announcing that the water was boiled. Lena went to change out of her work clothes while Hilary poured their tea. They chatted a little while longer as they watched the rest of the game, but neither of them brought up the subject of Mark again.​