As You Please || Auston Matthews

022

It was a little after six in the morning when I woke up. The slight pulse in my head I had fallen asleep with was still there, a small reminder of the incident that had happened the night before. Parting my lips, I pulled in a long breath, letting my lungs expand to their full capacity. Holding it until the count of four, I exhaled, opening my eyes and slowly pulled my body up.

Mitch was still sprawled out on the other end of the couch, his face peaceful as he kept his arms wrapped around his pillow.

The hardwood floors were cold as I made my way into the kitchen. I could feel my mind go on autopilot as I moved around the kitchen, softly opening and closing cabinets until I had a few mugs spread out on the marble, and a pot of coffee brewing.

I figured Pat would be up sometime soon, then followed by Christina. I was completely unaware of what Zach's sleep schedule was like, but if it was anything close to Auston's, he wouldn't be up for a while.

I managed to keep my mind blank as the high-end machine started to softly dispense coffee into the pot. I kept my eyes on it, letting each drip fill my head instead of all of the thoughts from the previous night. It had been maybe five hours, and I still had a knot in my stomach.

I knew it was nothing to worry about. I knew she wasn't in America and he had no interest in ever seeing her again. I know Auston didn't care about her. I trusted him, I believed everything he said, but there was something else nagging at me.

He was famous. Arguably, one of the more famous faces around Toronto. I knew there would be girls throwing themselves at him. I knew he could have his pick of anyone in the city, or arguably, any woman from any of the provinces or states where he would travel.

I tried to force myself to believe he could commit to a relationship at such a young age. I tried to force the idea of us always being together, despite his schedule. I knew he loved me. But would he still love me if he got traded? Would he love me when he was older and still getting young models throwing themselves at him for his status and paycheck?

How many other texts from girls he had dated or slept with were filling his inbox that I didn't see?

I didn't realize I was crying until a few tear drops landed on the marble counter. Sniffling a little, I pushed the tears from under my eyes and let out a long exhale.

For a moment, as I watched the coffee pot fill, I wished I was home, sitting in my living room, reading news articles and listening to the soft hum of Christmas music. Being alone for the holiday was so much better than feeling his hole in my chest.

"I love waking up to fresh coffee," the sound of Pat's voice sent my hair standing on end. Sniffling, I rubbed my eyes and turned to him, my lips forcing up a smile I prayed was passable.

"You only have another day of this," I joked, "don't get used to it."

When my eyes met his, the smile fell from my lips. I should have known trying to put on a front with him was worthless. A sigh left his lips as he walked over to me and leaned against the counter. Crossing his arms against his chest, he looked at me and frowned.

"There's a little bay window in the den," his eyes found mine, "it's a really nice view in the morning."

"That sounds good," I whispered as I grabbed the pot, silencing the machine before it beeped. I poured two mugs full, the smell filling my head as I carefully put it back on the burner and turned to Pat. With a tilt of his head, he led me through the house, through a small door and into a nice sized office.

The brunette pulled back a curtain revealing a small table and two chairs. The huge window overlooked the backyard. As my eyes scanned the make-shift rink, I smiled a little and took a sip of coffee.