Page 69 of Conner

“Conner!” Sasha managed to make it over to him before falling into his arms. “Where have you been?”

Conner looked at Evie with a quizzical look. “I have to warn you, Sasha is wasted.”

“I’m not wasted,” she slurred. “Just a little tipsy.”

Conner looked at her with a little chuckle. She was adorable.

“How much have you had to drink?” He looked over at the counter with two empty bottles of champagne and a half empty bottle of vodka. “Quite a lot, I see.”

Sasha was back to dancing.

“Are you good to drive?” he asked Evie.

“Yeah, I'm good. I don't think she meant to get quite this wasted. It kind of snuck up on her.”

Conner and Evie just watched her dancing. Conner couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at his mouth. It was so nice to see her let go of some of the stress from yesterday. She caught his eyes and fell into his arms again.

“You smell good,” she said, rubbing her face on his shirt.

“I see,” he said with a small chuckle. He couldn't help but smile down at her. Sasha was always so put together so seeing her like this made him happy.

“I’m going to get going, I have an evening class. I would like to take a shower, so I don't smell like booze,” she said.

“Sounds good. It was nice to see you again.”

“You too, I'll see you around,” she said.

Evie saw herself out and Conner looked down at Sasha who was still snuggling in his arms.

“How are you feeling, Sasha?”

“You feel good,” she said, rubbing his chest.

“Well, that wasn't my question, but I'll take it.”

All the sudden she looked up at him with a face that took Conner right back to college.

“Uh oh, I know that face. Let's get you to the bathroom,” he said, leading her down to the small bathroom off the kitchen just in time for her to make it to the toilet as he held her hair and rubbed her back.

There was something about seeing Sasha Maloof, the most put together classiest woman he had ever known, puking in his half bath at five o'clock in the evening that just made the entire surreal past week of his life come into focus. He held her hair and rubbed her back playing through all their greatest hits in his head. He thought about the first time he saw her on the bench and thought she was a fan, he thought of the time he saw her dancing with unabashed joy in her office, he thought about all the times on the plane they has argued fueled by what he now knew was sexual tension, and of course, that first moment on the ice he had caught her in his arms and felt her soft body pressed to his for the first time.

They had been doing this dance for months, but the moment he found out she was in danger, he was done doing that dance. Even if the cup hadn't been out of reach for them this year, he knew he would be here, holding this beautiful woman and her hair.

While he was no longer in college, he couldn't help but think of his college girlfriend who he had done this for many times. Looking back, he could see it now for what it was. She was a deeply insecure person who pushed him away just to see if he would stay. There had been so many drunken fights and volatile blow ups he had soothed.

He had always been the calm in the storm for the women in his life, a safe place to rage, but one night it had all gone too far. His junior year the night before the semifinal game she was out drinking and called him to pick her up. He begrudgingly went to get her only to find her kissing one of his teammates. He just watched her for a minute, then turned and walked away. He couldn't do it anymore. He heard her call his name; he heard her call out for him to stop. He knew that he should make sure she got home safely, but it had been the last straw.

He had assumed that she would call a friend, or his asshole teammate would get her home safely. She blew up his phone all night and he finally turned off his phone and went to bed. The next day he wasn't ready to talk, so he got on a bus with his teammates and went to play the game.

On the bus he found out that his teammate had left her by herself at the bar and all of her friends had already gone home. Conner texted her to check in, no answer. Then he called her, no answer. He just figured she was pissed at him. When he was getting off the bus his phone rang. It was his girlfriend, but when he answered it, it wasn't her. It was her best friend. She told Conner that she walked home from the bar by herself and had gotten hit by her car on her way to her apartment. She was in the hospital, she was okay, but she was pretty banged up.

That night on the ice Conner was useless. He felt guilty, angry, shameful, all of it. He shouldn't have left her, but their relationship had gotten so toxic he couldn't be himself with her or on the ice. They lost. He got back and took care of her and before they left that summer he ended things. After that he vowed to never get involved in another relationship until he was done with hockey.

Hockey was safe and steady. He knew if he put in the work his game would get better, he was in control of himself on the ice. He needed that. Sure, losses suck, but he knew how to handle that, he knew a day in the gym and a hard practice would get his head straight and focus him. That's not how relationships work, and he vowed to never do that again.

But here he was, holding the hair of a puking drunk woman he cared too much about. Where this could have triggered him and scared him, it pointed out that this was different. Here he was in another dramatic situation he couldn't control, a situation that was once again pulling his focus from hockey, but this was different. Sasha wasn't like her. What they could have together could be something that made them both stronger. He could be in love and not be out of control. That realization hit him as Sasha gave another heave into the toilet.

She finally stopped and looked up at him with tears in her eyes. He wiped them away and smiled down at her.

---