Boston or Bust

Chapter 8

   My clothes were drench, my hair soaked, my knees slightly weak, and my fist ready.

    It's gonna be fine I kept telling myself. Slowly I gather my confidence, got into a good fighting stance, and...

   Bang, bang, bang.

    I can't believe I'm doing this...

   The door swung open a couple of moments later and a familiar Finnish face appeared, as well a grin on it as soon as his eyes met mine.

    "Hi?" He asked, amused, and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. Wearing only a Metallica t-shirt and boxers, hair in every which direction, he still managed to look amazing. Myself on the other hand, was slowly creating a pool of water in the middle of the hall way.

      "Hi." I responded, internally punching myself.

     "Hi." He chuckled, thoroughly amused by now.

     "Umm... so...I just, uh..." How the hell do you phrase this? I felt my cheeks get hotter the longer her stared at me.

       "You just...?"He pried, obviously enjoying how awkward I was being. I shifted my weight from foot to foot.

       "I just... Look," I was just gonna be blunt, I was never one to beat around the bush anyhow, "I had a really realistic nightmare where I gave you a slapshot to the stomach, and you were bleeding, and there were EMTs and..." 

       I sighed, Deb's gonna get a kick out of this.

       "Can I just see your stomach for a sec? I just need to make sure you're ok." I looked up at him, his smile growing by the second if that was even possible.

        Tuukka's P.O.V.

      Well, I'll be damned. The girl I've been crushing on for the past week or so is here, soaking wet in a tight fitting t-shirt, short shorts, and flip flops, asking me to basically take my shirt off. 

       Oh yeah, did I mention she was totally soaked?

       Her big Bambi brown eyes that I have grown to adore looked up at me, and who am I to say no? Slowly, just to tease her a bit, I lifted up my t-shirt and showed her my stomach. Watching her reaction as she stared at my abs, priceless.

       Kay's P. O.V.

     Damn. Remind me to thank Whitesides. But, besides the fact that his torso was completely ripped, there was no bloodly mess or pucks lodged into his abdomen.

     "You want to touch it too? You know, to make sure there's no blood," he grinned, a light in his eyes appearing. I was pretty sure that my face was pink up until that point, but now I was absolutely positive that it was a dark shade of crimson.

      "No. I believe you. Well, I should go now. Thanks so um...yeah," I mumbled and turned around to leave until his hand gripped my wrist, pulling me back towards him.

      "Don't." He responded. I turned back around slightly.

     "What? Why?" I asked, confused.

      "You're not going back out there. You're soaked." He said firmly, his smile finally gone. I scowled.

     "Well, I need to get home so..." I tried pulling away but it was hopeless. He had a death grip on my wrist.

       "No, you're cold, wet, it's still raining outside, and it's like 2 in the morning. just crash here for the night." He reasoned with me, slowly pulling me into his apartment.

        I was about to start to protest but my teeth started to chatter, refraining me from getting any waords out. He just chuckled and pulled me completely into the apartment and shutting the door. He then dragged me into his bedroom.

          "Here," He said, tossing me a pair of basketball shorts and his Metallica shirt, the one he was just wearing mind you, and then disappeared for a second before handing me a towel. I took them gingerly, still shivering. He laughed softly, put his hands on my hips and walked me towards the bathroom.

          I'm not gonna lie, his hands on my hips felt pretty good.

        "Dry yourself off and then get dressed." He said, giving me a slight push into the bathroom. I closed the door and changed out of my wet clothes. My underwear wasn't terribly wet so I decided to keep that on and changed into his clothes. The t-shirt came down to my knees, showing just enough of the basketball shorts to let everyone know that I was wearing pants. I towel-dried my hair and frowned when I realized that in the morning it will be a curly mess. Sighing, I gathered up all my clothes and headed outside to find Tuukka again.

            He was sitting down on the couch, still shirtless, watching tv. At the sound of my footsteps his head swung around and saw me. 

           "You look good in my clothes." He said to me, giving me a half-smile. I rolled me eyes.

           "Gee thanks." 

           "Anytime, Angel." He retorted, grinning back up at me.

            Angel?

           Tuukka's POV

           Angel? Did I really just say that? Oh, God...

            Kay's POV

            I just decided to laugh it off and sit next to him on the couch. 

             "Whatcha watchin'?"I asked, squinting at the tv.

             "Not sure, I think it's last nights game with the Penguins v.s. the Capitals." He responded.

              "Ew."

               He tipped his head back and laughed, shutting down the tv.

               "Well then, off it is. I don't have a guest room so you can take my bed for the night and I'll crash on the couch." He decided, standing up and walking over to where the blankets were.

                 "Are you kidding? If coach finds out you even get a sore back from sleeping on the couch he'll kill me. I'm good here." I protested, spreading myself out horizontally on the couch, taking up as much space as possible. He turned around with the blanket in his hand and gave me a dead look.

                "Seriously?" 

                "Yep." I responded, grabbing the pillow closer to my face and getting comfortable.

                 "You're not going to give in, are you?" He yawned, walking back over to me.

               "Nope." I said, half asleep. I felt my legs get lifted off the couch and springs crunch. I looked up and saw Tuukka sitting with my feet on his lap, spreading the blanket over the both of us somehow.

                 "Is this going to work?" I asked warily, not caring at this point. 

                 "I'll make it work if that's what makes you happy." He said quietly, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back onto the back of the couch.

                       "Or if it makes you be quiet." He grinned with his eyes closed. I brought one of my feet off his lap then let it drop.

                           "Ughff..." He groaned, "rude." 

                       I just laughed and he put both his hands ontop of my feet so I couldn't bring them back up again. 

                    Seven hours later, we found ourselves in a slightly different position, and late.