All the Queens Men

What is this?

I text Patrick: Good luck today. Just as my dad sits down beside me. "Is he here?" he asks. "Yes," I say, scared of the next question. "I have a good idea who he is," He replies, pointing to the puck. I rest my head on his shoulder and continue to watch the arena filled with fans. He knows. He always knows. My phone buzzes with a reply, I figure now wouldn't be the best time to look so I pretend not to hear it. The last thing I need is for him to verify his assumptions. Soon Steve asks if my dad wants another drink, he gets up and heads for the beer. I smiled and looked down at my phone, he replied: Hope you enjoyed your night with me. Would you want me to stop over after this? Meg sits down to read the message with a grin on her face. "Well, well, well, guess he wants more," she says sarcastically. I reply and tuck the phone between my legs, why not I love when he fucks me.

As the warm-up begins I feel the excitement run through my blood. I love this game didn't matter what time of the year it is. Didn't matter who was playing. I saw Patrick scan the box for me, it was almost like part of the game anymore. No expression crosses his face; he just makes sure I'm in my seat. Sometimes I feel we both have superstitions. We just don't talk about them for fear they won't work anymore. I prop my feet up on the cement wall, texting Jeff, casually searching for Mr. X. Maybe he decided to not come today because the competition needs this win, it will be a battle. I notice the box suite he is always in, the normal group is there, minus him. I huff with disappointment.

With a ten-minute warning on the screens, I forgot what drink number I'm on, I stand to make my way to the hallway to find something stronger. The door opens. There he is, Mr. X. Leaning up against the lounge bar chatting to some other men. He is here for business; I can tell by the way he is dressed. I feel like a statue, I can't move. Meg comes storming out the door stopping in her tracks as she notices him as well. "Shit, look at that!" she mumbles, walking toward him. I chase after her hoping to god she doesn't make a scene. She places herself at the bar beside him. Thankfully he is engaged in conversation. I want to spin him around and undress him. My mind is lost; my pussy is throbbing for him. Meg bumps into him. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" she replies. I am too focused on him. I don't hear what he says to her. She hands me two drinks and grabs the other two on the bar. We walk away. "The only man I have ever seen you scared to talk to!!" Meg gives me shit. "He is married, what am I going to say!" I replied rudely.

We enter the door just as the puck drops. My dad has shots sitting on the table. I giggle and sit Indian-style in my seat. Everyone leaves me alone as I focus on the game. Yelling and screaming as I always do I become frustrated. This is turning out to be a disaster as I had predicted. After the first period, I sat back and discussed. Out of the corner of my eye, I find Mr. X, beer in hand still chatting, with that infectious smile. I lay my head back against my seat, biting my lip. I want him, I will have him. I decided to post a photo on Twitter and snoop a little bit. As the game begins again I change my focus to the ice. I could read the frustration all over Patrick's face, he is doing well but the competition is the better team, right? Mr. X had left his seat. The arena was starting to clear out. They lose. I wonder if Patrick will even want to see me now. I take a drink from my bottle of water and gather my things. Meg carries the flowers as we exit the box. We say our goodbyes to my dad and Steve when we get to the parking garage. On the way home, it was quiet, Meg was busy making plans to see the college boys. "So do you want to go meet up with these guys?" she says. I shake my head, at this moment all I want is to go take a nap. It would take Patrick some time to get changed and deal with the media. If he still wanted to see me I didn't want to be dealing with college kids.

We pull into the house; Meg runs inside to change so she can leave. I grab my flowers from the back seat smelling them, and I grin. Entering the house, a strange feeling brushed over me. Sitting the flowers on the kitchen counter I can't help but think about Patrick and what he had said last night, also my dad thinking he knew who the mystery sender is. I hurry to my room and place the puck in my closet with the others. I was growing quite the collection. Removing the jersey and hanging it back up, I climb into bed and turn on Netflix. Alone, I need this. I tell myself over and over again. Meg appears in the doorway, "Hey, I'll text you when I'm headed home, sure you aren't going to join me?" "No, I am ok!" I say.