Betting on Kane (Blackhawks Fan-fiction)

Chapter 1

Patrick

I put my phone in my pocket as I enter Theory's Sports Bar.  Before I head home, I want to have a few beers.  Shopping for gifts for my parents and sisters on December 23rd was the worst decision ever.  I need to relax.  I look around the bar; it's crowded for a Wednesday, especially being the day before Christmas Eve.

I find an open seat on the end corner of the bar, but it has a coat on it as if to imply it was being saved.  I look next to the open chair and see a woman looking at her phone with what I can only imagine is a mix of hurt, frustration and disappointment.

When I catch a glimpse of her side profile, my heart jumps into my throat.  She is beautiful, not that try-too-hard beautiful, but a simple beautiful.  She seems, just from quickly measuring her up, like the type of girl who doesn't realize or believe that she's a knockout.

I shake my head as I think, "Didn't I learn anything from the incident this past summer?"

Of course I did, I'm not going to put myself into a situation like that again, but I really want a beer, so here goes nothing.

Megan

I throw down my phone on the bar.  "Seriously?! I knew this blind date was a bad idea.  I don't know why I even agreed to it."  I think angrily.

"Can I get you something, hun?"  The bartender asks breaking me out of my current state.

"Cosmo, please." I say before I slip back into my anger.  

It's my own fault really.  I never should have let my sister-in-law set me up with one of her "friends" because then I wouldn't be sitting alone at a bar in Chicago waiting for a date that isn't going to show up.  What kind of person does that? I pick up my phone to text my sister-in-law and give her a piece of my mind when I hear a voice ask, "Are you saving this chair?"

"Not anymore," I think sadly as I frown.  I look toward the chair where I had put my coat and purse to save the seat.

"No, sorry.  Here you go."  I say as I move my things.

The bartend brings my drink over and sets it down before asking the guy next to me what he would like.  "Lite bottle." He says.  "And I would like to get hers."

"No problem." says the bartender.

"Thank you, but that's really not necessary." I say without looking up as I continue to type the angry text to my sister-in-law.   

"I insist." He says.  "There weren't any other seats around the bar, so I'm grateful."

"No problem." I say still drafting my text message.  I reread it and hit send.  As I set my phone down, I take a sip of my drink.  I close my eyes as I enjoy the drink.  I sigh and shake my head.  Men are so stupid!

"He's an idiot.  Just so you know."  I hear the voice next to me say.

"Excuse me?" I say as I turn to finally look at him.

"Whoever stood you up, he's an idiot."

As our eyes meet for the first time, my breath catches in my throat.  This man has beautiful eyes, familiar eyes, the eyes of Patrick Kane.

Patrick

 She finally looked up at me, and I think she is realizing who I am.  It is definitely sometimes one of the  negative things about being Patrick Kane.

She recovers quickly though and responds, "Well, it's my own fault."  Her voice is equally as beautiful as she is.

"How is getting stood up your fault?" I ask genuinely interested.  I turn in my chair so that I am fully facing her as she answers.