Stay, Stay, Stay || Sidney Crosby

Twenty-One

Saying goodbye to my family left me broken hearted and lost. After Felix's birth I spent as much time as I could with him nestled in my arms. Helen seemed glad to have the extra hands and Sid sat patiently beside me while I stared at Felix's tiny fingers and delicate toes. I was enamored with the new man in my life. My phone stocked with pictures and my suitcase full of exclusive east cost and Canadian treats - roast chicken flavoured chips, raspberry cordial, Kraft Dinner, and Kinder Surprise eggs - I said a tear-filled farewell to my family, my home, and boarded the plane to Pittsburgh.

It was New Year's Eve and Sidney and I had been invited to a number of parties. Our plan was to arrive in Pittsburgh by 5pm and ring in the New Year at a team party hosted by the coach and his wife, by the time we went through customs, I knew being surrounded by people was the last thing I wanted to do.

"We should head over around eight," Sid said as he pulled out of the airport parking lot.

"I'd really rather not," I responded flatly. I'd been considerably quiet for the duration of our flight and still found myself avoiding conversation. I could tell by his subtle glances as I sat with my head against the window of the plane that he was worried. Likely convinced that he'd done something to upset me. Perhaps it was cruel, but I didn't tell him otherwise. Wrapped in the tight embrace of my own emotions I disregarded everything and everyone around me.

"What do you mean?" He glanced at me, still keeping one eye on the road in front of him.

"Can you just take me home?" I ignored his question.

"I wasn't planning on stopping anywhere," his voice was stiff, reflecting my own inhospitable tones.

"No, I mean my home." The words came out louder than I had intended them to.

"Hey," he softened, placing his free hand on my thigh. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head, not responding, and leaned against the cold window.

"I know you're tired but we'll have time to take a nap and still make it to the party. Who knows, maybe being around everyone will brighten your spirits." He was still on the road towards his house.

"Sidney please just take me to the apartment. I don't want to be around everyone, I just want to go home," I forced the words out of my tight throat and squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry.
Without a word, he changed lanes and took the first turn in the direction of my apartment. We drove the few miles in silence, neither one of us daring to speak. The second the vehicle stopped in front of my building I got out, not waiting for him to turn the engine off. I ran inside and up the stairs to my purple door, desperate for privacy. Inside I found everything still and Luna asleep on the back of the couch. There were a few dishes in the sink, but otherwise my home was as I'd left it weeks ago. I scooped Luna up and headed to my room, closing the door behind me. My bed was still made, but the room looked bare, I'd gradually moved most of my clothing and makeup to Sidney's. I curled up on top of the covers and pulled the extra quilt over me. Luna settled in beside me and quickly fell back asleep. I couldn't pin point exactly what I was feeling, but I wanted to be alone. All that time surrounded by people had drained me and my heart ached thinking about the distance between Pittsburgh and P.E.I. There was no guaranteeing I would be home again soon, and while I had kept it from Sidney, that was part of the reason I hadn't returned in so long. As illogical as it seemed the longer I was away the easier it became to be apart from everyone, and returning only made the separation harder.

I could feel my throat tightening with emotion and my vision becoming blurry. I hoped Sidney would forget about me and go to the party, but I couldn't be sure. I didn't need him hearing me cry again. I reached for the remote to my stereo and turned it on then pressed play on my phone. Leonard Cohen's deep voice came through the wireless speakers and I let myself fall apart as the words of "Chelsea Hotel" echoed through my room. Luna remained purring beside me while I gasped and sobbed, struggling to find the source of my misery. My reaction was too extreme to be merely a result of saying goodbye, something I had done many times before. Unlike my tears the night Felix was born, there was no joy driving this emotional outburst. I cried for the family I was so far from, for the little boy who was so pure and unaffected by the world and heartache, but most of all I cried for myself. With every passing day I saw my spirit drifting away, I felt incredibly lost and immensely afraid of who I was becoming. I'd grown accustom to who I was alone, comfortable with the idea that I didn't need anyone in my life romantically, but with Sidney gallantly swooping in and trying so desperately to make everything okay I found myself lost. I felt ungrateful admitting my hidden reservations to myself, but I knew it wasn't him. He wasn't doing anything wrong, I was. I'd been so adamant that our relationship be open and honest, but neglected to discuss any of my unease about our roles in each other's lives.
I didn't need a saviour, because heaven forbid he should leave me I'd be left more broken than alone. His presence as my protector was a bandaid solution for my own issues. Issues I'd long lived with, but learned to hide exceptionally well. My self-doubt and insecurity had remained hidden from the man I claimed to love. I thought that his love for me was enough to excuse the absence of my love for myself, but it didn't. Instead it made me wonder why he was with me, if he was hiding me, and where our relationship could possibly go. I'd seen the wives of the men he worked with, their beauty left me itchy and clawing at my own unsatisfactory body, my nonconforming ideas, and alternative style choices. There was a part of me that would give everything to be like them, dressed in designer fashions with perfectly manicured nails and flawless skin. Maybe if I looked the part I'd feel like I was worthy of the position. I was all too aware of the thousands of women who would gladly take my spot in Sidney's life. Thousands of women who would do anything for him without question. I saw their lingering eyes when he walked by, imagining he was theirs. I wondered if I shouldn't let him go. Try to free him of whatever delusional idea kept him by my side. The idea of my life without him left me feeling cold, my sobbing louder and my breath just out of reach. My energy depleted I lay there, chest still heaving and stereo still playing. Leonard Cohen had been replaced by One Direction and I tried to laugh at the contrast, but couldn't find the energy to smile. I closed my eyes and let my body sink into the bed beneath me, my muscles useless and limbs weak. I knew I could find comfort in sleep.

When I woke up the room was dark and the stereo was turned off. Luna remained beside me but my glasses had moved from the bed to the night stand. The door was open slightly and a sliver of light shone into the still room. My face felt stiff and I was reasonably disoriented. Careful not to disturb Luna I crept out of bed and turned on the lamp beside me. The light stung as my eyes adjusted. When I regained my vision I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My face was blotchy and stained and my hair was all over the place. In the midst of my breakdown I'd ditched my pants and my t-shirt was wrinkled and streaked with the black eye makeup that had stained my face. I pulled off my shirt and let it fall to the floor, reaching for a sweatshirt Sidney had left in my room weeks ago. I tried to wipe some of the makeup off with a tissue but it only make my skin look raw and irritated. Giving up, I left my room hoping to find Serena and some form of chocolate. Instead, I opened the door to find Sidney laying on the couch, a book covering his face and a blanket draped over his legs. I felt sick knowing he'd been there the whole time. My suitcase sat outside my door, and the dishes that had once been in the sink were now drying on the rack. Sensing my presence, he lowered the book and saw me standing in the doorway, my appearance less than desirable and my body only half covered by the sweatshirt.

"Hey," he said casually, placing the book on the table. Normally I'd have lectured him about reading when he was supposed to keep his eyes relaxed, but I could hardly speak.

I smiled sheepishly and tugged at the hem of the sweatshirt.

"Come sit," he moved his legs and patted the couch beside him.

I looked at him and the spot and then back at him. I was waiting for something, for him to be angry, or to tell me how irrational I was. But instead he just smiled and waited for me.

I shuffled over and sat at the opposite end of the couch from him, pulling the blanket over my bare legs.

"Do you want anything? Tea maybe?" he stood up and walked towards the kitchen before I could reply.

"Okay," my voice cracked, my throat felt rough and tender. I listened as he filled the kettle and set it on the stove, anticipating his return.
He sat back down on the couch while we waited for the water to boil.

"You don't need to sit so far away," he said quietly.

I looked up at him hesitantly. I wanted to press my body against him, mould myself into the curve of his side and stay forever in the protective embrace of his arms, but I feared I'd find myself in a mess of tears again. The kettle whistled and he returned to the kitchen, coming back a few moments later with a steaming mug. One sugar, lots of milk, tea bag still in, he knew. He placed the mug on the coffee table in front of me and sat down.

"I'm sorry," I croaked, keeping my eyes on the mug. "I don't know how to explain myself but it was incredibly selfish of me to treat you like that." I focused on keeping my words clear and my head level.

"You don't need to explain anything," he said softly. "Look, I can't promise I'm going to ever understand you or how your mind works, because we are incredibly different people, but I can promise that I will listen and do my best." He reached out to me, leaning across the space between us, his hand peacefully beside me.

"You shouldn't have to do that." I finally looked him in the eyes. "It's not fair to you..."

"What isn't fair is that you feel that way," he said before I could continue.

I cringed at his words. I hated pity, so many people had remarked that it was unjust that I had been burdened with unregulated emotions. I was fully aware that well adjusted people didn't do what I did.

"Did I do something?" He asked moving closer to me.

"No. Believe me when I say it's not you."

"Then what?"

I didn't know where to start or how to explain without sounding ridiculous. I'd have been happy to forget the whole thing had ever happened. I was humiliated to know he'd sat outside my door while I fell apart.

"I know it's hard to say goodbye," he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me against him. I didn't resist him and let my body fall against his.

"It is," I murmured. "I don't know when I'll see them again."

"We can go back after playoffs." He kissed the top of my head.

"We?" I pulled away and faced him. "I don't need you to pay my way." I shook my head frustrated. "I don't want you to make these plans for me." I said calmly.

"I didn't mean..."

"No," I interrupted. "I know that's not what you meant, but it feels like everything has been on your terms." My voice was slightly louder than necessary.

"My terms?" he frowned at me. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Do you not see it? You have the final say in everything. It was your decision to tell the team, it has been your decision to keep me from everyone else. You decided I should move in with you and you decided we were going home for Christmas." I could feel myself getting frustrated and reached for the mug hoping the tea would calm me down.

He stared at me stunned for a few seconds before responding. "I did all of those things for you," his voice was calm. "I've been putting off going public because it's not fair to you. I knew what I was getting into when I signed my first contract, but you have no idea what it's like. There is so much out there that I do not want you to see, there is so much hate waiting for us on the other side." He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down at his lap. "Beatrice, I just want to make you happy. You said you were homesick and I took the opportunity that presented itself. You were stressed so I gave the chance to be around someone who loves you."

"Serena loves me," I shot back.

"That's not what I meant. I meant someone who was willing to be there for you to help you get over the rough patch."

"My whole life feels like a rough patch, Sidney!" I cried. "It never gets easier. I'm never going to be someone who is always happy and easy to get along with."

"I know!" for the first time in our relationship his voice was louder than mine. "Shit Bea, I know that! Do you think I'm an idiot? I watch you. I've seen how you react to things. I can't read your mind but my god your face says a lot. You think if I didn't want to be here I would? You think I'd have stuck around after you collapsed in my locker room if I wasn't completely in love with you? How can you not see that I am doing everything I can to make you happy and I will continue to do so?" His face was tense and his fists tight. I glanced down at his white knuckles trying to form a response.

"I don't need you to fix my problems," I finally said.

"What if I want to?" he shot back.

"Stop with the heroic bullshit. You don't want to. You want someone who will make your life easier. Someone who will look good on your arm and love you unconditionally. I can't be that person. I can't even love myself unconditionally." I was becoming frantic, my voice high pitched and tight, tight like my chest, my stomach, and my heart.

"Don't fucking tell me what I want," he hissed. His teeth were clenched and I saw something in his eyes that'd I'd never seen before. "If I wanted that I'd have it. We all know there are plenty of girls who could fill that job. You go on about being in control of your own life and knowing what you want but you don't take a second to think that I know what I want." Anger. I'd seen him angry on the ice, or in the locker room after a bad game, but I'd never seen him angry at me. "Do you think I'm making all that hallmark shit up? That I was lying when I said I'd never taken anyone home to meet my parents? Jesus, how can you be so smart and so thick all at once." He slammed his fist into the couch beside me.

Rarely in my life did I find myself speechless, but that moment I sat with my head in my hands and nothing to say. A tense silence settled between us.

"Look," I couldn't stand it any longer. "When I let you into my room that night I knew what I was getting into. I knew who you were and what your job entailed. I get that the publicity can be a challenge but I can't continue to feel like you're ashamed of me."

"Don't you think I want to tell everyone?" he reached for my hand. "I want nothing more than to shout it from rooftops. I'm the far from ashamed of you. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyday I wonder how I managed to get your attention. With all due respect to the women who can be classified as 'arm candy,' you are so much more than that." He took a deep breath. "I'm not know for my intelligence, but you, you're literally a Master. Sometimes when I listen to you talk I can't believe someone with your brain would want to be around hockey players all day. You've never once shown interest in my money, and you are the best sex I have ever had. So ashamed, no. I will never be ashamed of you."

"Then why can't we just get it over with? Go public and see what happens?" I tried not to whine but I felt a sense of urgency building inside me.

"I don't want to do that to you. If you think you're insecure now, wait until the magazines get ahold of you. Wait until the internet is riddled with hate for you. Hate because that's what people do. It has nothing to do with you. It's them. I don't want them to ruin you." He was looking at me with wide eyes.

"You are not allowed to protect me anymore," I squeezed his hand firmly and locked eyes with him. "It's not your job to keep me safe."

"Then think of it as for me, because I can't handle the attention right now. We'll make a deal. If you are still eager to go public when the off season rolls around we can look into. But right now, for me, please leave things as they are," he pleaded with me.

I took a few seconds to consider the offer he'd presented. I couldn't deny the validity to his point. It made perfect sense. I feared my persistence would lead to a power struggle rather than a true desire to be in the public eye.

"Fine," I sighed. "But I need you to stop trying to fix me. I appreciate the effort but I feel like I'm losing myself and I can't explain why, but I know I need to be able to take care of myself." I moved closer to him, my body feeling cold without his near.

"Okay," he smiled. "But for the record, I know you can take care of yourself, and I don't want you to change." He pulled me into him and I let my head fall on his chest. The tension that had been building inside me had lessened substantially and the hazy cloud had begun to lift from above me.

"What time is it?" I asked.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket "11:49pm."

"Wanna end the year off right?" I cocked my eyebrow and kissed his neck softly.

"Our first makeup sex?" He moved his hands to my bare thighs ands traced his fingers up and down.

"I've been looking forward to this." I straddled him and pressed my lips firmly against his, wasting no time.

His hands quickly found my bum and he dug his fingers gently into my flesh. Our lips still pressed together, tongues touching, he stood up. I moaned, all the more turned on by his ability to pick me up. Holding me tight against him, my legs wrapped around his waist he walked to my room and kicked the door closed behind him. I expected him to drop me on the bed but instead he pressed my back against the wall and balancing me between the hard structural surface and the hard surface of his body, he moved his hands under the sweater. Our lips parted just long enough to pull the sweater over my head before his made their way to my neck. I bit down on my lip, groaning as I felt the bulge in his jeans growing against my damp core. Tightening my legs around his waist I grind my hips against him as his hands cupped my breasts and his lips and teeth nipped at my neck and collarbones. My bra strap slipped down my shoulder and I knew it wouldn't stay on much longer. Neither would his shirt as I tugged it up, trying to pull it off of him without losing our balance. He moved from my neck and with one hand tugged the shirt over his head, tossing it aside. If I wasn't already turned on, that would have done it. His bare stomach pressed against mine and I couldn't help but trail one hand down the flat tight surface of his chest and abdomen. I stopped at the waist of his jeans and watched his reaction. His eyes were clouded with lust and his lips red from the friction of mine. I could feel the heat rising in both of us and there was no use prolonging the inevitable.

"Put your hand here," I whispered in his ear, taking his hand in mine and moving it to my sopping wet underwear. He moaned and kissed me roughly, his fingers dancing up and down the wet fabric. I rocked my hips back and forth against his hand anticipating the skin on skin contact. My lips on his neck, teeth grazing the delicate skin near his clavicle as he slipped his fingers under the fabric. He'd barley had a chance to touch me before I was tugging at his jeans, my emotions having turned form anger and hopelessness lust and longing.
"You really want me to take my pants off don't you?" he smiled slyly. His eyes locked on mine, he pushed two fingers inside me at an agonizingly slow speed.

"That would be nice," I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut.

His breath was hot against my ear, sending shivers down my back. His fingers working their way in and out slowly. Without warning he pulled his hand away from me. I tried to protest but his lips were already on mine. He gently lowered me to a standing position, but kept me pressed against the wall. No longer having to hold on to him, my hands were free to tackle the buttons of his pants. Our lips feverishly moving against each other I found it hard to focus on the task at hand. Just as he effortlessly unhooked my white bra I undid the button, freeing him from the denim cage. Eagerly, I pushed his pants and boxers down in one motion, his length bursting from the fabric and touching my stomach.

"Happy?" he asked, his voice amused. I let my hand wander down his chest and took him in my hand, moving at the same painfully slow pace. He bit his lip and looked down at me patiently. Unable to hide my smirk I pressed my lips against his neck, slowly accelerating.
I'd only just begun to pick up speed when he held my hand with his, stopping me from moving. I shot him a confused look and tried to move my hand again.

"If you keep doing that I'm going to lose it," he whispered, a hint of embarrassment in his words.

I grinned and wrapped my arms around his neck, his hands move back to my bum and stripped off the fabric that was keeping us apart. Quickly I was back in his arms, my legs wrapped around his waist, the most sensitive parts of our bodies cementers apart.

"I've never done this," I admitted, referring to our position.

"I'll try not to drop you," he smirked.

The first few minutes had us both fumbling around to find our balance, but quickly the awkwardness faded and I was engulfed in his affection, deep kisses paired with urgent thrusts, our bodies pressed together. My head buried in his neck I inhaled his comforting scent, clean like the soap he used and slightly musky from the perspiration that formed along his brow. The smell reminded me of all the times we'd been together. My face pressed against his chest, his neck, his back as we fell asleep. With his every movement the energy inside me increased, the pressure in my abdomen reaching dangerously close to the threshold. I tried to hold on, prolong the experience. All it took was one strategic thrust to send me over the edge. A moaning, twitching mess in his arms. His face was pure joy watching me react to the work of his carefully crafted body. Every inch of my body tingled, oversensitive to his touch. I watched him shift from joy to ecstasy, his brow tightening and his eyes rolling back. He pushed me harder against the wall, leaning against me and moaning heavily. Part of me was waiting for him to forget and drop me, but somehow he managed to keep me firm in his arms. Riding out the final waves, he pressed his lips against mine gently.
"Yup, hands down you're the best I've had," he said with a smile.
I opened my mouth to say something but was interrupted by the door opening beside us, just missing us by an inch and knocking into my wall. Startled, Sid moved his hands causing me to slip down to the floor, luckily landing on my feet.

"I'll be right back," I heard Serena say. She flicked on the light, blinding Sidney and I. Finally noticing us standing naked in front she let out a shriek. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were home!" She covered her eyes dramatically.

"Happy New Year!" I laughed. Covering my breasts with my arm. Serena, obviously drunk ran over to hug me. I wrapped my free arm around her and watched Sidney stare at us in horror. The hug gave him enough time to wrap the blanket from my bed around his exposed body.

"I'm really glad you're having sex again," she giggled, trying to whisper but failing miserably. "I came in here to get something." She let go of me and stumbled over to my dresser, pulling out a handful of condoms from the bowl on top of it. "Better a thief than pregnant," she roared with laughter and left us awkwardly standing in the bright light of my bedroom.

"We should argue more often," I winked and pushed him backwards onto my bed, already eager for round two.