Passing Through

Part Ten

 Chapter Ten

Natasha needed to pinch herself, because she couldn't believe that she was sat at the opposite end of her sofa to Bo, drinking shots of brandy and sharing the large piece of cake. It was almost more intimate than it should be, and she had tried to lighten the mood. And whilst it wasn't too awkward, there was a tension between them that she could barely cope with.

He was tall, curled up on her sofa, his eyes, that warm hazel gaze was fluttering between her, and the cake. His long fingers cradled his glass, and his confidence was mesmerising. Bo Harding was larger than life, and definitely more than she could cope with in her small home.

"So, you wanna talk about tonight?"

Bo sipped at his brandy, then shrugged, "not sure."

"A Gordie Howe, hey?" That caused his head to snap up, eyes questioning, and she laughed, a goal, an assist and a fight made up the famed hat trick and had been a coveted thing in her watching days. "...a college players wet dream. Worth more than a real hat trick in those circles."

He smiled then, slumping back on the sofa and nodding, "that they are." Running a hand over his face, he sighed, "I'm not known for being a hard man. I'm not an enforcer, I'm skills."

"So what happened tonight?"

Shrugging he dropped his head for a moment, "something stupid...I should rise above it."

She could tell he was angry at himself, yet his team would all be slapping him on the back, she was sure.

"He wasn't a threat, it wasn't what the game needed."

Natasha turned on the sofa, tucking her feet under her, facing him, "dominance, aggression, fights...they are part of the game, don't know why you're beating yourself up over that."

He stared at her for a moment, "it wasn't worth it, HE wasn't worth it. And I'm angry that I rose to the bait."

As soon as he said that, she realised he hadn't intended to, he closed his mouth and dropped his eyes, "he said something?" She shrugged, knowing he wasn't going to answer, "well, at least you're in a place where you can instantly retaliate to a harsh word. Take it as a bonus and just let it go."

He eyed her for a moment, "that's it?"

She laughed, "it's nothing to do with me. But you are beating yourself up over nothing. So you got a bit aggro in a game."

"Aggro?"

She laughed, they both spoke English but the Atlantic seemed to create two very different versions, "aggressive. Bullheaded. But hey, as you get older your game changes, you're not a rookie now, so maybe you have to show a bit of attitude to find where you fit in the team. New league, new level, new you?"

"I wasn't protecting a teammate though, that's just it. This wasn't part of the game, I let a prick get under my skin."

She shrugged, "it won't be the first or last time, learn from it and move on, surely it's the only way? Otherwise this guy will bait you every time you play...and others might pick up on it. Next thing you know they'll all come at you."

They way he dropped his eyes, clenched fists, she knew he was still fighting internally. "Bo, either talk it through with someone, or ignore it. Hanging on to whatever he said...it's not helping you."

She was exactly right, he was letting a trivial snappy comment tear him into pieces, and it wasn't a lie or an insult, it was fact. He WAS an ex-NHLer, he was past his best. And he had to get used to it. But he still wasn't ready to admit how he felt, talk things through, he was still holding on to all that shit. Because he still couldn't begin to imagine how he'd deal with never making it back. Never reaching that pinnacle again.