Hayes (A Carolina Cyclones Story)

10.

Maggie

I pride myself on being a pretty go with the flow person. However, when my night started I never pictured it would end with me being driven home by Hayes Hansen in his fucking G-Wagon.

When I went to the bar for a glass of wine I ordered a shot of tequila too. Knocking it back quickly in the hopes of helping to settle my nerves and hormones down a touch before rejoining him at the table to sip my chardonnay. I don't know that it helped much, my hands didn't shake but the butterflies in my chest were beating so hard I'm surprised they didn't crack one of my ribs.

The conversation stayed surface level. We talked about hockey and the game and he teased me about the jersey I'm wearing. I didn't miss the look of almost relief though when I told him it was just one that Rachel had let me borrow to fit in at the game. When I'd finished my wine he told me he'd taken care of both of our tabs, something he must've done while I was at the bar, and we said goodbye to a few of his teammates who eyed him suspiciously as we headed for the exit.

"You realize your teammates think you're taking me home right?" I ask because what the fuck is a filter.

"I am taking you home." He replies, a playful smirk on his face as I reach across the console and swat at his arm. "Does it bother you that someone might think that?"

There's a vulnerability to his words and I realize that my notion before the game when we'd talked was right. Hayes might be a professional athlete, a team captain at that, but he's plagued with insecurities.

I answer his question with one of my own. "Would it bother you if it bothered me?"

I don't expect him to answer so I'm a little shell shocked when he replies back quickly. "Yes"

"Look, I don't really ever do this." He speaks up again, drawing all my attention over to him. My eyes drop to his bicep which is subtly flexed as he uses his hand that isn't on the steering wheel to worry at his lip. I inhale sharply and return my eyes to his face. "I'm a stickler for my routines. I like predictability and I always have but ever since that night at the bar I can't get you out of my head. It's like an annoying little gnat that–shit that sounds bad, forget I said that–" He huffs. "All I'm trying to say is for some reason the universe keeps making our paths cross and I don't believe in coincidences."

He pulls up in front of my apartment building just then. His GPS having directed him perfectly to the address I'd given him when we first got into the car.

My head is pounding. I'm not a lightweight as far as alcohol but I wonder for a moment if what I'm gathering from this conversation is distorted from the shot and one glass of wine. "So what are you saying, exactly?" I ask, needing him to spell it out for me.

His lips purse and he faces me. "I wanna get to know you Maggie." his hand reaches forward and his fingers are gentle as they sweep a loose piece of my hair back behind my ear. Goosebumps cover my arms as his finger brushes across my cheek as he pulls his hand back to rest in his lap. His thumbs twiddle nervously as he stares at me curiously. "Would you be opposed to that?"

"And what if you don't like what you find?"

"Well, then I guess at least I won't have the regret of a missed opportunity."

*

Did you know in Arizona it's literally illegal to refuse someone a glass of water?

I laugh as I grab my phone off my desk in my apartment and read the text from Hayes. After he'd brought me to my apartment building he'd walked me to the front door and we'd exchanged numbers. As soon as he'd gotten home he had texted me to confirm I hadn't given him a fake number.

That where you are today?

I figure he's probably busy so I don't expect a reply immediately and am pleasantly surprised when i feel my phone buzz again.

Yep. Plane just touched down. We've got them, Colorado and Vegas this week then we're home to play Tampa Bay to close out the regular season.

I'm going to need you to do me a favor and get a new jersey before that next game.

I can't help it I laugh out loud at his double text.

I knew that bothered you the other night. I'm not sure I'll even get to go to the game. The seats came from management but I think they were a one time thing.

No you didn't. I was totally cool, calm and collected like always.

Did you hear that? It was the sound of me laughing so hard I snorted.

All right now give me some credit. Though I do tend to get a little flustered around gorgeous women. Also, you can always use my season tickets. I get two and hardly ever use them. Just let me know and you can get them anytime.

My jaw practically hits the floor. Never in my life has a man ever called me gorgeous. The typings dots appear, disappear, then appear again when I fail to reply.

Too much?

Shit.

No, no. Sorry. That's so sweet, especially the tickets. I'm just not really sure how to take compliments I guess.

Well that's a shame. I've got a list of them I could prattle off for you.

I feel my cheeks heat and I'm thankful to be in the comfort of my own apartment so I can bask in the warmth his attention makes me feel.

You're awful sweet for a big, burly hockey player.

LOL! I don't think big or burly are words the sportswriters would use for me.

More like smart and sexy. I think to myself. Another texts pops through.

We just got to the hotel so I've got to go. Talk to you later?

I note the hint of disappointment to see our conversation come to an end. I promise to text him later and set my phone down. I hear another text come through and I grab for it quickly, almost throwing myself out of my chair in my hurry to see if he's said something else and floored when I see what it actually says.

And just so you know, I'd never refuse you a drink, even without a law.

It's corny and pure and even though jocks aren't at all my type, I can't help but be intrigued by Hayes Hansen.