Romance Keeping Ice On The Wound

Unsure of why he'd come all this way when he knew they weren't here, Mark Gaines stood outside the main entrance to the Verizon Center, leaning on his crutches. He scowled at the building as though he could make his team reappear and his injury vanish. Then he felt the dull throb in his right ankle and it all came back to him.

It had all happened so quickly. Hockey was fast and injuries happened even faster sometimes and he wanted to kick himself for not doing what he should have to avoid this. Or at least, he wished he could kick himself. Having one injured ankle was enough to keep him out of the arena and off the ice for four weeks, if not longer.

With a sigh, he turned and walked away from the arena. All the staring and scowling in the world wouldn't make his injury go away. He paused at the end of the block and looked around. The day was bright but cool as the sun was lower in the sky already. People were bustling along the sidewalk on their way to or from work or school, or whatever else was the focus of their lives. The throb in his ankle increased for a moment and he figured he couldn't really go far like this. When he'd taken the Metro to the Verizon Center he hadn't put much thought into what he'd do from that point on.

Turning, he headed back towards the entrance to the Metro. As he hobbled along the sidewalk, he didn't pay much attention to the people passing him. He made his way below street level and got on the train. He switched to the orange line after two stops and plunked himself into the nearest empty seat, leaning his crutches against his legs.

Man, Coach would be pissed if he saw me getting around like this, he thought with a smirk. He'd been told to stay off his feet for a few days at least. That had lasted two whole days before he ended up so bored he'd considered taking up knitting. When that thought had crossed his mind, he'd grabbed his crutches and left his apartment.

He supposed he should just be glad that it wasn't more serious. The trainers and doctors agreed that it was a mild sprain and that he shouldn't be skating for at least three weeks. After that, he would be reassessed and hopefully he could get back to practicing with the team. He wouldn't be ready for games for probably four to five weeks but he was going to do his best to get back into the line-up before that.

Sighing, he tilted his head back and shut his eyes. The throbbing in his ankle subsided slightly and he let his mind wander. Everything came back to the incident at the game three nights ago.

It hadn't been something he'd done. It hadn't even been because of someone on the other team coming after him. He'd gone after the puck along the boards and turned to follow as the small black disc had shot out along the ice. Whatever he did, something in his move had twisted his ankle and the second he'd put weight on it, he'd gone down.

The team was supportive and assured him that they wouldn't be the same without him. He believed them and was grateful for their attitude. More than anything though, he hated being left behind. It was already late in November and the team was doing really well so far. He didn't want to miss out on anything at this point. Not that he thought his absence would be a terrible loss to the team but he just wanted to be there for all the wins.

While his mind rolled over all he'd be missing, Mark glanced around the train. A new thought occurred to him and he quickly checked what the next stop was. As gracefully as he could, he rose and tucked his crutches underneath his arms. Off the train, he made his way above ground and down the street. A block and a half over was a pub he remembered visiting not long after he'd hit the legal age.

He narrowed his eyes at the red brick building with its black awning reaching out to cover the small outdoor seating area. At the moment, the tables and chairs outside were stacked against the main building; it was too cold now most days to sit outside.

Exhaling slowly, he moved past the railing and walked inside, grateful for the immediate wash of noise and fried food smells that greeted him. His face eased and the scowl disappeared. He picked his way through the small crowd and sat down at the main bar. It wasn't terribly busy; a few people sitting at tables and the pool tables were all surrounded by players and spectators. Music poured out of the sound system and Mark could feel himself relax further as he propped his crutches against his thigh while he perched on a stool.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked as he stopped in front of Mark, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Can I get a Red Stripe?" Mark asked.

The bartender nodded and moved away. Mark glanced around at the bar and watched some of the people for a few seconds until the bartender returned. Thanking him, Mark lifted the dark bottle to his lips and drank deeply. He set it down and looked around again, but not really registering what he saw inside the pub.

He knew drinking probably wasn't the best thing to be doing at the moment. Being off the ice for a couple weeks wouldn't help him stay in shape and drinking certainly wouldn't help either.

Screw it, he thought and took another swig of his Red Stripe. I can drink for one night.

"Are you sure you don't want to go out for a movie, Hil?" Lena asked as she pulled on her jacket.

Hilary looked over at her friend and smiled. "No, thanks," she replied. "You go ahead. Tell Jane I said 'hi.'"

Lena stood by the front door to their shared apartment and watched her roommate move around the kitchen. "You're just going to stay in and eat popcorn? And chocolate?" she asked incredulously.

Turning a scowl on her roommate, Hilary shook her head even as she was sliding a bag of buttery flavor popcorn into the microwave. "It's not like I eat junk food all the time, Lena," she said.

Lena laughed and shook her head. "That's true. I just don't understand why you don't want to come out to the theater. You could have popcorn there!"

"I could also put on my sweats and eat it here," Hilary replied, lifting her long, golden hair over her shoulder. She pasted a sweet smile on her face and looked over at her friend. "You go. Enjoy the crowded theater and sticky floors."

"I just don't want to leave you alone," Lena said.

Hilary sighed and turned away again. "I'm fine," she insisted but there was no strength behind her tone.

"Sure you are," Lena replied sarcastically. "You're perfectly all right with the fact that you just found out your ex-boyfriend got married. And is having a baby."

Hilary glared at Lena and fought for something snarky to say. She had nothing.

"Oh, and this is my favorite part, the woman is only nineteen," Lena said as she adjusted her purse on her shoulder. "Scott told you he liked older women and younger women were too needy and immature."

Scoffing, Hilary crossed her arms over her chest. "I was hardly older than him," she replied. "It was a difference of six months."

"Well, now he's got six years on his darling wife," Lena said. "He's not worth your time, Hil. You need to stop wallowing and come out with me and Jane."

Hilary glared at her roommate and wanted to tell her to take a hike. But everything she'd just said was true. Scott was married to a younger woman and Hilary was wallowing because he'd chosen the nineteen-year-old over her.

"Fine," she snapped and stalked past Lena, heading for her bedroom.

"Yay!" Lena cheered. "You'll have fun, Hil! I know it."

In her room, Hilary huffed out an annoyed sigh. She went to her closet and pulled out the first two items she laid eyes on; a pair of faded and worn jeans and a snug neon pink T-shirt with a purple butterfly across the front. After grabbing socks and her purse, she rejoined Lena in the front hall.

"Oh come on," Lena said to her with a smile. She nudged Hilary's shoulder. "Give me a smile."

"If I end up having fun tonight, then I'll smile," Hilary replied. She pulled her high-heeled boots on and shrugged into her jacket. Then she led the way out of their apartment.

Lena tried to get her talking as they walked towards the Metro station. Hilary gave her one word answers and tried to sink into her jacket. The air was cool but not terribly so. Fall was just about gone and Hilary wished she was back home for Thanksgiving again. She knew Lena was trying to improve her mood but her roommate was so cheerful these days that Hilary had a hard time being around her sometimes.

I guess being in a stable relationship with the same man for nearly a year could do that to a person, Hilary thought, calling to mind an image of her roommate's impressive boyfriend, Capitals forward Anatoli Oborotenski.

At the Metro station they met up with their friend Jane and together the three of them caught a train to the nearest theater. Hilary tried to enjoy the movie but could not get behind the heroine of the romantic comedy. She spent most of her time rolling her eyes or looking around the darkened theater. Finally, the credits started to roll up the screen and the three of them were heading back out. The air was cooler outside with the sun down and Hilary pulled her jacket closed, yanking the zipper up.

"So what do you ladies want to do now?" Jane asked as they loitered out front of the theater, throngs of people moving around them.

"I think I'm done," Hilary said, desperately wanting to go home and get into her comfy pajamas.

Lena scoffed at her and threw an arm around her shoulders. "You're not done," she said firmly. "You're coming with us for a drink."

"Oh, yeah, that sounds fun!" Jane exclaimed and clapped her hands. "I haven't been out for drinks in ages."

Hilary narrowed her eyes at Jane. "You went out with Henry last Friday."

Jane laughed and waved her hand dismissively at Hilary. "Yeah, but that was with Henry," she said. "I haven't been out with the girls in forever."

Laughing, Lena reached out for Jane, linking arms with her. Then she started walking, dragging Hilary behind her as Jane chattered excitedly on her other side. Sighing, Hilary went along with them, deciding it was easier than arguing at the moment. They walked for a few blocks before getting back on the Metro.

"Where are we going?" Hilary asked as they boarded the blue line.

"There's this great pub and restaurant near GWU called Froggy Bottom," Jane answered. "I used to go there all the time."

"It's not that far from our place," Lena added as she sat down.

Shrugging, Hilary plunked down next to Lena. At this point, she figured she could use a drink. She was still smarting over Scott dumping her six months ago for a younger woman and she had to admit that if she'd stayed home tonight, she'd have wallowed, big time. Lena was a great friend to get her out and she didn't appreciate it. A small smile touching her lips now, Hilary leaned close to her friend and thanked her.

"For what?" Lena asked.

"For getting me out of the apartment," Hilary replied. "I would have much rather stayed in but thanks for not letting me."

"Hil, you need to forget about that loser," Jane piped up. "There are thousands of other men out there who are better for you than Scott could ever be."

"She's right," Lena agreed with a grin.

Hilary laughed at them and shook her head. "You guys are impossible," she said. "But I love you anyway."

"And don't worry," Jane went on. "We'll get you good and drunk tonight. Maybe even get you hooked up with someone at the bar."

Hilary lifted her eyebrows and smirked. "Oh, good. Just what I need. A drunk loser at a bar."

Her two friend laughed and a minute later they all began chatting easily about what was going on in their lives. Hilary listened with half an ear and stared out the window as the train moved. She wondered if she did need to cut loose and get drunk as Jane suggested. Maybe even find some drunk guy in the bar to have a good time with.

Mark downed the last of his fourth beer - or was it his fifth? - and set the glass back on the bar. He rubbed his chin as the bartender wandered back in his direction.

"Another?" The bartender asked.

Nodding, Mark sat up straight and stretched his back. He rubbed his chin, rough with two day old stubble and stared down towards the end of the bar. There were a few more people in the small pub now than when he'd first arrived. A lot of younger people, college students he figured, seeing as how the bar was so close to George Washington University. Several were even wearing GWU sweatshirts. Smirking, Mark turned back to the bartender just as the other man set a fresh beer in front of him.

"You got a way to get home?" the bartender asked as Mark took his first sip of the new beer.

Looking up, Mark met the disapproving gaze of the other man and smiled. "Sure. I have a bus pass."

Rolling his eyes, the bartender moved away, leaving Mark alone with his beer and his wounded foot. A blast of cold air from outside washed against Mark's side and he turned his head to see three women stroll into the bar. Three very attractive women. One was dark-haired with a wide smile and she looked familiar. He squinted his eyes as he tried to place her.

"Lena?" he said as she walked closer, her two companions close by her side.

She paused and turned to meet his gaze with a curious look. Then her face split into another grin and she walked over to him. "Hey, Mark! What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on your way to Atlanta right now?"

Mark winced at her question but smiled ruefully to mask it. "I had a bad fall the other night," he replied and gestured at his companions; the two stiff crutches propped up beside him.

Lena's smile drooped and she bit her lip as a flush swept over her cheeks. "Oh man, I'm so sorry," she said. "I should have known."

He chuckled and shook his head. "It's all right. I know you only pay attention to one guy out there."

Her blush deepened and she laughed unselfconsciously. "Yeah, Obie's pretty great."

Mark had to agree, no matter how miserable he might be at the moment because of his current state. Anatoli Oborotenski had been dating Lena since the holidays last year. She'd gotten to know most of the guys on the team fairly well and Mark liked her. She was a friendly person and genuinely cared about Anatoli.

"What brings you here tonight?" he asked, hoping she wouldn't be able to tell how many beers he'd had. What was he up to now? Seven? Oh, Christ, he thought and shook his head. It's bad if I can't even remember. He was almost afraid to stand up again. He might end up making himself look like an idiot.

"I'm here with my friends," she replied and turned to lift a hand towards her two companions. "We just saw a movie. Mark, this is my roommate Hilary, and this is our friend Jane."

Mark lifted his eyes to take in the two women standing with her. The one she called Jane was slightly taller than Lena with short, light brown hair and dark brown eyes. The other, Hilary, was a few inches shorter than Lena and had a long mane of dark honey-colored hair. She was dressed plainly in jeans and a T-shirt, though the neon pink shirt hugged sinful curves, leaving little to his imagination. Her eyes were bright, even in the dim interior of the pub and when she lifted her gaze to his, they shone a startling blue. Mark swallowed, feeling as though someone had just slapped him in the back of the head.

"Ladies, this is Mark Gaines," Lena introduced him. "He plays with Anatoli."

"Nice to meet you," Jane spoke first and held a hand out towards him.

Mark automatically raised his hand to shake hers but his eyes didn't move from Hilary's face. After Jane released his hand, he moved it towards Hilary but she merely cocked one dark eyebrow at him and looked away. Blinking in surprise, Mark's eyes flicked to Lena, who was glaring at her friend. He didn't know what was going on and maybe if he hadn't consumed... ten beers, he'd be able to sort it out.

"You want to sit down? Join me?" he offered, gesturing to the unoccupied bar stools alongside his.

Lena glanced at her friends for confirmation but only Jane responded with an enthusiastic nod. So the three of them sat down with him; Lena on his left, Jane on his right and Hilary on the far side of Jane.

"So you play hockey?" Jane asked as she leaned close to him, a friendly smile on her pretty face.

Mark nodded. "Yup. At least I did, until two days ago."

"Oh, please," Lena spoke up from his other side. "You're only injured. You make it sound as though you've been forced into retirement."

"Yeah, can I get a Jamieson and Coke, please?" Hilary asked as the bartender stopped in front of them. Her sharp voice drew Mark's and the other two women's attention.

"Sure," the bartender replied. "And for you two ladies?" he asked Lena and Jane.

"I'll have a Bud Light," Jane replied.

"You have any coolers?" Lena asked and listened as the bartender listed their selections. Lena picked a berry cooler and the bartender moved away to fill their orders.

"What were you saying, Mark?" Jane asked a second later.

He blinked and rubbed his stubbly chin. "Was I saying anything?"

"You were going to tell me about playing hockey," Jane offered, still smiling that friendly smile at him.

"OK," he agreed and told her about his time with the Washington Capitals. Lena added a comment here and there; after nearly a year with Anatoli, she knew a few things.

The three of them talked for a while, downing their drinks and laughing together. With the two women on either side of him, Mark found himself drinking less and slowly proper thought returned to his mind. The cool air wafted in through the main door every time someone came or went and that helped as well. Mark couldn't help but notice the silence on the other side of Jane and felt himself leaning forward or back just to catch a glimpse of Hilary.

He wondered what her deal was. She certainly hadn't looked pleased to be there and she hadn't been thrilled to meet him. Not that he was hurt by her dismissal but he was more than used to getting attention from pretty ladies. His career choice afforded him a certain advantage in that department.

"Hilary?" Lena turned her attention to her friend for a moment when a silence descended over them all. "Are you doing all right down there?"

"Oh yeah," came Hilary's flat reply. "I've got my whiskey and some peanuts and all is well."

Mark snickered at her tone before he could stop himself and smiled apologetically at Lena who just looked annoyed. She sighed and shook her head. Mark didn't have anything to say but he shrugged and smiled at Lena, as though to say, 'what's up with her?'

"So what did you injure anyway, Mark?" Jane asked, breaking the silence. Clearly, she didn't care about her friend's mood or was just more interested in Mark than he'd initially suspected.

"I twisted my ankle," he replied, ignoring the snort of laughter he thought he heard from Jane's other side. "I'm not allowed back on the ice for a few weeks. That's why I'm carting around these crutches."

"Should you even be out on crutches?" At last, a question from the withdrawn Hilary. A snarky question, to boot.

Leaning forward against the bar, Mark turned his head to meet her narrow gaze. "I should be at home doing nothing but after two days of that, I needed to get out."

"And a bar was your best option?"

"Hilary!" Lena snapped at her friend but Mark shook his head.

"It's all right," he said. "She's right. Drinking doesn't help solve anything. Wouldn't you agree?" he asked Hilary, pointedly looking at the almost empty glass before her. "What's that? Your third or fourth?"

She flushed and looked away, her lips pressed tightly together. He watched as she lifted the glass, draining the tiny amount of liquid remaining. Unconsciously, he mirrored the motion of her swallow and flushed when his blood was suddenly diverted south of his head.

"Hilary, maybe you should slow down," Jane suggested, turning some of her attention to her friend.

"I'm fine," she snapped. "I'm going to the restroom," she announced a second later and hopped off her stool.

Jane and Lena exchanged one of those female looks that Mark, and millions of other men in the world, could never understand or interpret and then Lena followed Hilary across the bar. Left alone with Jane, Mark smiled at her. She wasn't stirring him up like Hilary was, but she was friendly and pretty so he didn't think talking to her some more would hurt anyone.

"So what do you do?" he asked.

"I work for an accounting firm downtown," she answered with a smile. Her eyes flicked nervously towards the bathroom a couple times as she spoke and Mark wondered if she was nervous to have been left alone with him. "I've been there for a couple years now."

"You enjoy that?" he asked, keeping the smile on his face and hoping he didn't look like an idiot.

She shrugged and crossed her arms on the bar in front of them. "It's all right. It's what I went to school for, so I knew what I was getting into."

Mark nodded and they continued to chat for a few minutes until Lena reappeared, without Hilary. She had an annoyed look on her face that had Mark smirking behind his glass of beer.

"I feel like playing some pool," Lena announced. "You up for it, Mark?"

He raised his eyebrows at her as he set his beer down on the bar. He let his gaze drop to his crutches before meeting Lena's eyes again. "I would love to, but I don't think I could manage it."

She laughed and nodded. "Sorry! I almost forgot about that. What about you, Jane?"

Jane nodded and got off her stool to follow her friend through the bar to the nearest empty pool table. Mark watched them for a few minutes, wondering what Lena was saying to Jane; and she was saying a lot. Her lips were moving quickly and she was gesturing with her hands, almost clipping Jane in the head a couple times with the triangular rack.

Then Mark caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to see Hilary weaving her way back through the crowd to the bar. He watched her progress, smiling crookedly at her as she approached. Her eyes immediately took in the absence of her friends and she scowled.

"What happened to the two of them?" she asked.

"Playing pool," he replied, jerking his chin in the direction of the pool tables.

"Hmm," she murmured and climbed back onto her stool.

"Can I get you another round?" Mark asked, twisting back around in his seat.

Hilary glanced in his direction before shrugging.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said and flagged the bartender down. After they both had fresh drinks in front of them, they fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Mark picked at the label on his bottle of beer and glanced sideways at Hilary a couple of times. She was quite attractive and his injury certainly didn't keep him from experiencing desire in all its forms. A smile touched his lips as the thought crossed his mind and he heard a heavy sigh from beside him.

"What?" he asked.

"I didn't say anything," she replied, looking over at him.

"No, but you made some sort of... noise," he replied, his smile widening when he saw her frown. "The sort of noise a woman makes when she wants a man to know exactly what's wrong but he really has no idea."

She blinked and stared at him and Mark was caught by the vibrant blue of her eyes. Then the corner of her mouth twitched and he knew she was fighting a smile. "Well, you're right about men not knowing what's going on."

Lifting his eyebrows, Mark twisted on his stool to better face her. "I didn't say all men. You shouldn't make generalizations like that."

"You're right," she agreed, surprising him. "After years of men assuming they know everything about women, I suppose it would do them a great disservice to return the favor."

Blinking, Mark absorbed her words before letting out a short laugh. He watched her and was pleased to see a real smile spread across her face. "Well, if we're going to debate the sexes, maybe you should move closer."

Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows but Mark was encouraged when the smile remained on her pretty face. "Why should I do that?"

"Because I don't want to keep shouting and I'm not exactly coordinated at the moment," he replied, gesturing at the crutches beside him. They weren't really shouting but he was ready to use any excuse to get her closer.

"All right," she agreed, lifting her drink and stepping down from her stool.

Mark watched her slide onto the one next to him and as she moved, the door opened again, blowing a slight breeze in their direction. He caught a scent of spicy musk from Hilary's direction and fought the urge to bury his nose in her long hair.

"So if you're in such a mood tonight, why'd you come out with your girlfriends?" he asked.

She whipped her head around to stare at him, her smile fading instantly. "What makes you think I'm in a 'mood?'" She demanded, her tone sharp.

He shrugged. "That noise you made? I know enough about women to know that it's a 'mood' noise." He hooked his fingers in the air in a quotation sign.

For a moment she didn't say anything and then he saw the corners of her mouth tilting up again. He grinned in reply and lifted his bottle to clink against her glass.

"You aren't what I expected," she said after a moment of silence.

He smiled at her but felt suddenly wary. He suspected that as Lena's roommate, she must know who he is, if only by name. Of course, she might also be a hockey fan, in which case her opinion of him could go either way. Women were hard to read when it came to his career. "What were you expecting?" he asked.

She shrugged and the smile she threw his way was almost shy. At least, if he knew her better he'd have thought it was a shy smile. "I don't know," she replied quietly. "Someone more... arrogant. Snobby maybe."

He snorted with laughter and shook his head. "Hardly. I haven't risen so high that I've forgotten where I've come from."

"And where is that, exactly?"

Again he merely gave her a look, trying to ascertain if she was playing him or not. She looked genuinely interested; if in a sort of ticked off way. So he opened his mouth to start to tell her about his youth in Calgary when Jane appeared between them, interrupting.

"Hey, guys!" she exclaimed and took a long sip of Hilary's drink.

Mark watched Hilary's face as her friend arrived and was surprised to see the scowl. Her entire body tensed up and she turned away from Jane and Mark.

"You know, Mark," Jane said, moving her whole body sideways so her back was to Hilary. "You don't have to be nice to her if she's being a grumpy bitch with you."

He lifted his eyebrows, surprised that Jane would say something like that about her friend. He didn't say anything in response and Jane giggled at her own comment.

"Jane!" Lena called her name as she approached. "We're still in the middle of a game."

Jane waved at her and ran her hand down Mark's arm before hurrying away again. For a minute, neither Mark or Hilary said anything. Slowly the tension seeped out of Hilary's shoulders but her pretty smile was nowhere to be seen.

"Can I get you another drink?" he asked, breaking the silence.

She glanced over at him and down at her now empty glass before shaking her head. "No. I shouldn't have any more." Then she did smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Doesn't solve anything, right?"

He shrugged. "I guess. But it makes it feel better for a while."

She laughed and her smile turned genuine. "You're a nice guy, Mark."

"Don't tell anyone," he replied quickly and glanced around as though checking to see if anyone had overheard.

She laughed again and then turned to face him more directly. "Are you planning on staying here for a while?"

The question caught him off guard and he didn't know what to say. Several witty remarks came to mind, some more than suggestive. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to play that game with this woman. So while he sat there, struggling for something smart and funny to say, an amazing grin spread across her face.

"I... wasn't planning to stay late," he replied. He made a show of checking his wrist, though it was bare of any watch. "In fact, I should probably get going."

"I can help you get home," she offered.

Shaking his head, Mark spun around on his stool and grasped the soft handles of his crutches. "I'll be all right," he assured her. "It's only been two days but I think I've got the hang of these things."

He met her gaze again and she tilted her head to one side, that wide grin still on her face. She leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. "I don't think you understood me," she said. "I want to help you get home."

Slowly her meaning sank in and Mark wondered briefly if he'd had too much to drink. I can't even tell anymore when a woman is hitting on me, he thought as he studied her face.

"All right," he replied out loud. "It's probably a little out of your way, though." He thought he should give her fair warning even though every cell in his body was suddenly alive and tingling.

Luckily, she only shrugged. "I don't mind. I wouldn't want you to fall on your way home and get run over by a truck or something."

Mark's eyebrows shot up and he grinned. "Yeah, that would suck a lot."

Still grinning at him, Hilary hopped off her stool and pulled on her jacket. Then she waited patiently as Mark did the same, arranging himself with his crutches as well. Another minute later, they were walking together out of the bar.

The minute she'd seen him in the bar, Hilary had known who he was. She followed hockey a little bit and knew most of the faces and names of the Washington Capitals. She'd learned more since Lena had started dating their star forward, Anatoli Oborotenski. Secretly she'd always liked Mark Gaines. He was a defenseman and they sometimes got overlooked in favor of the flashier goal scorers. Mark was a different sort though. He was good at his job but he had a shot that was sure and strong. It didn't hurt that he was tall and muscular and Hilary had always been a sucker for dark hair and eyes.

Even though she'd been less than relaxed upon walking into the pub with her friends, Hilary had been thrilled to meet him, in spite of her assumptions about all hockey players. In the past, she'd been hurt while dating a hockey player and she had never really gotten over it. She supposed she could have been a little nicer to him but Jane had jumped right in, hitting on him unabashedly. All three of them had effectively excluded her from the conversation until Lena had cornered her in the washroom.

"What's your problem tonight?" she'd demanded.

"I don't know why I'm here," Hilary had replied honestly. "I didn't think I'd have to sit there and listen to Jane hit on yet another guy."

"You could join in the conversation, you know."

"Why bother? He's just a hockey player looking for someone to hook up with tonight and Jane seems to be a more than willing participant."

"Don't be ridiculous. Jane is a flirt but she doesn't take guys home from the bar."

"I should hope not. What do we even know about him?" Hilary had demanded, her mind racing through the stats she did know and pushing aside thoughts of going home with him herself.

Lena had thrown her hands into the air at that point. "I don't know why I bother. If you want to drink yourself silly tonight and try to forget about what an asshole Scott is, go ahead. I won't be a part of it though." With that, she'd stormed out of the washroom.

Left alone, Hilary had washed her hands, checked her hair and clothes and slowly made her way back across the bar to where Mark had been left alone. She'd expected him to give her a hard time about drinking, like her friends had. Instead, he'd been perfectly friendly and she'd actually found herself enjoying talking to him.

Then she'd offered to take him home and had to live for long seconds wondering if he'd shoot her down. He hadn't.

So here she was; riding the Metro with him towards his home in Arlington. It was a decidedly unsexy mode of transportation but she figured at this point there was no turning back. So they chatted awkwardly for a few minutes before stopping altogether. Hilary sat next to him and he held his crutches on his other side, out of the way of other passengers, though the car they were on was mostly empty now.

She thought if she just leaned slightly to the side, or even relaxed a few muscles, she'd end up touching him from shoulder to thigh. Then she thought she was being ridiculously prudish considering she was going home with him; in all likelihood for a one-night stand. That was something she'd never done before. But then, she'd never met someone she felt so instantly attracted to. It was more than a little rattling.

"What are you thinking about?" Mark asked, his deep voice startling her out of her twisting thoughts.

"Nothing really," she replied vaguely. There is no way I'm going to tell him what I was thinking, she added silently.

He chuckled and nudged her with one arm, letting their bodies remain in contact after the move. "I can tell when a woman has something on her mind," he said.

Scoffing to hide her reaction to his touch, Hilary reached up with one hand and scooped her hair off her shoulder. She glanced over at him in time to see him follow the motion of her hand with an almost hungry look. Something clenched inside her belly and her mouth went dry.

"I think you should get it off your chest now," he said, his voice coming out thicker than when he last spoke. "Before we end up at my place and I won't be letting you run away."

Hilary blushed furiously at his words, pleased that he was no longer bothering to pretend that they were going to his place for coffee and cards. She bit her lower lip and peeked at him through her lashes. "I won't want to run away," she told him, her heart pounding erratically in her chest.

All or nothing, she thought as the heat in her face spread lower. All or nothing.

"Are you sure?" he asked and swallowed. Hilary watched the knob of his Adam's Apple bob up and down. "This could be tricky, what with my injury and all."

Hilary lifted her eyebrows but lowered her eyes to take in the wrapped ankle. Slowly she raised her eyes, lingering on his muscular thighs and his broad chest. When she met his gaze again, she thought she saw a blush on his cheeks. It made him look younger than he was, though he definitely had one of those faces that gave an impression of youth. He narrowed his eyes and blinked, his dark lashes distracting her entirely for a long moment. The look he gave her then was anything but youthful.

It was the sort of look a man gives a woman he wants to undress with his teeth.

Images flashed through her mind and Hilary blushed again. She ducked her chin and looked away, shocked by her own imagination. Heat suffused her entire body and she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, hoping he didn't know just how affected she was.

"Well," he said quietly, shifting on his side of the seat. "That answers that."

Hilary bit down on her lip to keep her nervous laugh from escaping. For the rest of the ride to Arlington, they remained silent. Every so often, Hilary would glance at him. Sometimes, he'd be looking at her and his eyes would go wide for a second before he'd look away, a blush coloring his ears and cheeks.

He led her off the train and through the quiet streets to his apartment building. Thankfully there was an elevator up to his floor so he didn't have to try to navigate stairs with his crutches. Though Hilary reminded herself that he'd obviously managed to get out and across town with them and he was fine. At last they were alone in his apartment and as Mark shuffled down the hall away from the door, Hilary stood by awkwardly in her jacket.

Mark turned to look at her and smiled. "Why don't you come in here?" he suggested, nodding his head towards his living room. "I would take your coat but I honestly don't think I could manage it and remain standing."

Hilary laughed and followed him into the other room, pulling her jacket off as she went. She tossed it onto a chair along one wall and watched as Mark maneuvered around the room, finally planting himself in the middle of his couch. He set his crutches on the floor beside the couch and leaned his head back.

"Man," he groaned. "I never thought trying to get around on those things would be so difficult."

"Why did you even try?" Hilary asked as she moved around the room, looking at everything. His apartment was sparsely decorated, a regular bachelor pad. A few plain pieces of comfortable looking furniture and one or two pieces of art on the walls. The kitchen off the main room was clean looking with dark appliances and bar stools lining the kitchen island. Of course, the centerpiece of the entire room was a large flat screen television. A smile touched her lips as she stopped in front of it.

"Does my place meet your approval?" Mark asked from behind her.

She looked at him over her shoulder and shrugged. "I think it doesn't really matter what I think," she said.

"Why not?"

"Well, I'm hardly the first girl you've brought home, right?"

Silence greeted her question and after a moment she turned around to face Mark. He had a strange look on his face. Hilary wondered if she'd offended him.

"You think I do this all the time," Mark said. He didn't phrase it as a question. From his tone, she guessed that she'd misjudged.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"It's fine," he replied, shrugging one shoulder.

They fell silent then. Hilary looked at him, met his steady brown-eyed gaze and then looked away, a blush staining her cheeks.

"Come here," he said, his voice husky.

She hesitated, still not looking at him.

"Hilary," he murmured her name and she heard the couch creak as he moved. "Gorgeous babe, come over here."

This time she laughed, a short burst of sound one step shy of hysteria. It felt like a whole other lifetime when she'd offered to come home with him and now that she was here, alone with him in this apartment, she wasn't sure what she'd been thinking. She wondered if he knew she wasn't used to doing things like this and she looked over at him. He was leaning forward, a grin on his handsome face and Hilary was caught by the dark shade of his eyes. Before she knew it, she was moving towards him, walking slowly across the room until she stood beside him.

He reached for her, closing one warm hand around her wrist and she had to tell herself not to flinch at his touch. He was so gentle, his palm so soft, which surprised her considering the physical life he led. He turned his hand and slid his thumb across the skin of her wrist and she shivered. His grin turned positively wicked at that and his grip tightened on her wrist.

"Sit with me," Mark said, his voice still very low.

Hilary stared at him, taking in the width of his shoulders, the length of his legs and the soft look in his eyes. Biting her lip, she moved closer and sat down, as he asked. What he probably wasn't expecting was where she sat down; one leg on either side of his as she settled in his lap, facing him.​