Chapter 5: Itchy

“Fine. Let me just get my bag out of my car,” I growl, finally agreeing to go with Max in his car instead of taking my own. Probably not the best idea but if it would get him to shut up, … I run over to my new car, and by new I mean a 2007 jeep wrangler X in dark red, used with 35,000 miles on it. Not exactly everyone’s dream car, but it suited me and who knew where I was going after this.

I first take off my fleece jacket and pull the t-shirt Max gave me over my head. I shiver in the chilly weather my arms bare and my body covered by only my thin tank top, I quickly shove my arms back into my black Columbia fleece and zip it the whole way up, shivering to get the warmth back into my body. I grab my green canvas messenger bag out of the passenger’s seat and check to makes sure I have the essentials. My glasses, a book, Guns at the Forks by Walter O'Meara was my current read, and my wallet… I was good to go. I plop my cell phone in the bag and lock the car behind me, stuffing my keys into my bag as well before slinging the bag over my shoulder.

“Alright, let’s go,” running back to Max, who is leaning on his car waiting for me.

I had to admit; he looked good in his grey suit with a simple white dress shirt underneath and a black and grey-stripped tie. His arms were folded across his broad chest. My eyes wonder lower across a flat stomach and down to his lower half. I could see the signature hockey player thigh muscles through the fabric.

‘Powerful to say the least,’ I think as I subconsciously bite my lip.

My eyes drag up to meet his. His eyes were looking particularly blue at the moment as he smirked at me knowingly. I had been caught checking him out. But hell, who wouldn’t?! It’s not like I had the urge to crash my lips against his in what would be a very heated kiss. No, I didn’t want to feel that slight scruff against me as his lips worked over mine, nor did I want to run my hands through his still wet hair. Nope, maybe some girls… most girls, even… but not this one.

“Finally!” he says getting up and walking passed me giving me a whiff of his mouth-watering cologne and a good look at those broad shoulders. I bite my lip again, suppressing a groan. I was a sucker for strong broad shoulders. I swallow my thoughts, reminding myself that it’s Max, nothing can happen. I could go home with a guy tonight and get rid of the sexual tension that I needed to get rid of and it would all be good again.

He steps in front of me and opens the passenger door for me.

“My lady,” he says with a charming smile, gesturing for me to get inside.

I roll my eyes as I hop in, “I’m not your lady,’” I snort, before closing the door on my own. I watch as he just shakes his head and chuckles before walking to the driver’s side of the car.

The car starts with an immediate blast of warm air making me realize how chilly it is outside. Some sort of rock station plays on the radio as he backs out of the parking lot and out onto the open road, well the city road.

“Alright, here are the rules,” he says glancing over at me quickly.

“There are rules?” I ask, raising my eyebrow skeptically.

“1. Try not to get in trouble.”

“Pfft, no promises,” I mumble.

“2. Watch what you do with the team, especially if there are cameras around,” he says totally ignoring my previous statement.

“Aww, damn! And here I was going to jump the Crosby kid,” I say rolling my eyes.

“3. Try not to get into a fight with another girl, because quite frankly we all know the other girl doesn’t stand a chance…”

“Hey now, it’s not my fault girls are particularly catty around me. The tight clothing apparently allows less oxygen to get to their brain and they pick fights. I just defend myself,” I say defensively pointing a finger at him while he drives.

He lets out a snort of laughter, looking over at me.

“Well, if you decide to ‘defend yourself’ make sure you tell us so we can watch/ video tape it,” he grins at me.

“Oh please. You of all people should know I don’t fight like a girl.”

“But seeing a girl try to take you on - priceless!” he grins.

I just roll my eyes and shake my head with a deep sigh.

“And finally rule 4…” he says breaking the silence.

“There is a Fourth Rule?!” I say looking over at him in shock.

“Don’t go home with anyone unless it’s A. someone I know will just drop you off at your house and keep his hands off you or B. me, “ he says bluntly.

I’m taken aback by the 4th rule. The first 3 were understandable… well ok, maybe the first two were. But the fourth was utterly ridiculous! And if the thought I was going to follow the fourth rule he was dumber than I thought.

“Ok,” I say quickly and very sarcastically.

“Maggie, I’m serious,” he says slowly, giving me a look before quickly turning his attention back to the rode.

“Mmmhmm, I know,” I smile, “But Max, I have every intention of breaking the fourth rule, otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed to go with you guys”

His hands tighten on the steering wheel as he lets out an annoyed sigh, his stormy eyes meeting mine for just a second, warning me, before they flickered back to watch the road. I just smile back, honestly he should know better. When have I ever followed rules that were set specifically for me? And if you ask me, it was very hypocritical of him to make rule 4. I knew all about his reputation, “googling” is not a complicated process. I also knew that with that grin and those good looks, Max Talbot had the ability to charm the pants off of any girl he wanted.

Max’s POV

Loud. Hot. Dark.

Not only a good lay but a good nightclub as well. Maggie follows behind me, taking in the place. I look over my shoulder at her as her eyes scan the lights and the people on the dance floor. There was nothing on her face that said, ‘fuck this,’ or at least not yet there wasn’t. I smirk; maybe this was going to work out after all. I make my way over to the VIP section. As I approach the area I pull Maggie to my side, touching the small of her back lightly to indicate that she was with me. I feel her flinch at the initial touch, but a small annoyed huff told me she understood why I was doing it. I’m easily let in to the area where I can see that Jordan already has a girl with him and TK is working on another. Flower and his girl are together, pointing out whom they thought I would go home with tonight (they loved betting on that) and Sid was talking with Alex Goligoski and Kris Letang as they drank.

“Jesus Christ, it’s as hot as hell in here! Honestly you would think this is a club in Egypt, don’t you people know about air conditioning?” Maggie mumbles from beside me.

I roll my eyes, “then take your damned coat off Maggs,” I grumble.

She lets out a sigh as I hear the zipper being pulled down just as we approach the table.

“Hey guys, you remember Maggie,” I say gesturing behind me. The boys look up and I see a few jaws slacken before they mumble their hellos.

“Hey,” I hear her say back cheerfully.

I look back at her wondering why they were staring. My breath stops for a moment as the blood rushes through my ears noisily. When Maggie said she wouldn’t have any trouble competing in what she was wearing, I was doubtful. But looking at her now I should have known better. She had pulled off her coat leaving her in only a white racer back tank top. I could faintly see the black outlines on her ribs from her tattoos. The ink was noticeable enough to peak curiosity and concealed enough to make me want to strip her of her shirt and find out what was written there. The neckline plunged low enough so that I got a glimpse of tempting cleavage but stopped short of being racy. The shirt continued down to just below her belly button. Leaving a band of temping tanned skin for my eyes to feast on before it slipped back under her dark blue jeans, held up by the worn leather belt with the gold buckle. I had never seen a simple white tank top look so good on some one, nor did I think one could get me so hot. Her hair fell in waves of dark coffee brown down her back and framing her face. Her green eyes looked at me curiously as she cocked her head to the side.

“What?”

“Umm… nothing,” I sigh shaking my head and looking down to the floor.

There was no need to not look at her, the image of her standing there was burned in my brain… and she was fully clothed! I could only imagine what it would be like if everything else was gone. I risk it and look back up at her. She smiles a knowing smile at me and her clover green eyes sparkle. Now was when every other girl would let out a small giggle and close that step that stood between the two of us. Every other girl would wrap her arms around my neck and tell me we should get out of here. Every other girl would be in my bed in 15 minutes. But Maggie wasn’t every other girl. She just shakes her head with a smile.

“I’ll see you later Max,” she laughs before turning and making her way through the crowd and to the bar.

What the hell was she going to do at the bar alone?! I shake my head, I’d give her 10 minutes and then go save her and bring her back to the table. I walk back over to the guys grabbing one of the beers on the table and twisting open the cap. I chat with the guys for a bit, smirk at a few girls that I would normally take home on a night like tonight. But tonight, I was going to take Maggie home. I might not get her in bed tonight like I would like, but she would want to go home soon anyway. After all it was Maggie, she didn’t even like dancing.

“Whoa” I hear TK say slowly, looking wide eyed over my shoulder and onto the dance floor. The other guys also have their jaws touching the floor.

I follow his eyes and I feel my jaw drop as well. I never thought I would see the sight that I was seeing. And man was it hot.

It hadn’t even been 10 minutes yet and she had her back pressed up against some guy! I watch as they dance to the music, Maggie’s chest slightly glistening with sweat. Her brown leather belt caught the eye, accentuating the sensual movement of her hips as the gold buckle caught the dim lights every so often. Moving my eyes back up her torso I could faintly see black across her rib cage from her tattoos. Her hair was pulled up high in a messy bun; making it easy to see those two eagle feathers behind her ear. I realize that she was right. She definitely didn’t need all that other stuff the other girls had on. Maggie could probably have any guy in this club and you couldn’t even see her ankles. She was hot in jeans and a tank top, minimal makeup. Add her unwavering confidence to that and you had a hell of a catch. And I wasn’t the only one that thought so, as I looked around not only were my teammates looking at her, but other guys checked her out as the women that didn’t have the guts to come to a club dressed as Maggie had, sized her up, whispering behind their hands. But if Maggie noticed the attention, she gave no indication. Honestly, she was probably oblivious to the fact that all the girls wish they were her and all the guys wish they were with her. Maggie had no idea how gorgeous she was.

I watch as her hips move to the beat and the guy she was dancing with puts his hands on her hips. Those green eyes move up and catch with mine. She looks at me as her arms rise so that they are situated behind her around the guy’s neck. His hands move up from her hips, finding the space where her waist flared back in. She smiles wickedly at me, before grinding her hips into him a little harder. I can see the guys fingers dig slightly into her flesh at her movements and the sight made my blood boil. The son of a bitch moves his head down to her neck, his mouth moving over her, to which she answers by grinding into him harder.

“Jesus Christ, do you see her over there. It’s like they’re having sex on the dance floor. Get a room damnit!” I grumble, pounding back a shot.

“Oh please Max, you are out there all the time doing the exact same thing,” Sid says rolling his eyes.

I just grunt in response, my eyes still trained on the Maggie. I watch as his mouth moves up her neck to behind her ear, right where those feathers are. She bites her lip and closes her eyes, as his mouth works over them. Her white teeth barely showing out as they bite into her full bottom lip, making even me groan at the sight.

That’s enough, my mind seems to snap. I roughly push my chair back and stand up, taking a few steps over to them.

“Hey!” I shout so that they could hear me.

The guy looks up at me and upon seeing the source of the voice his eyes widen. Maggie sighs and slowly opens her eyes to glare at me.

“Something the matter, Talbot?” she purrs, making a shiver go down my spine as those emerald eyes have become a dark forest green.

“Step off her man, you’re done,” I growl at the guy while continuing to stare at Maggie, who just glares at me.

“Sorry, I didn’t think she was taken. Good goal tonight,” he says letting go of her and immediately backing off.

I nod in his direction before grabbing a hold of her arm and dragging her off the dance floor.

“Max what the fuck?” she hisses in my ear.

“I should be asking you the same question! You two were all over each other!” I growl back.

“Who the hell do you think you are, one of my brothers? Let me have my fun, Max,” she snaps pushing me off her and making her way back to the dance floor.

I let out a low growl as she comes to a group of guys by the bar. I did want her to have her fun, but I wanted it to be with me not those other guys. They could have her as soon as I was done with her.

There was no doubt about it, Maggie knew exactly how to land a guy. But I don’t think she realizes how good at it she actually is, she could get any guy in this club. I watch as she runs her hand up the nape of her neck, brushing a few unruly strands of hair that have escaped from her bun. She then takes a long swig of the beer in front of her. Her naturally pink full lips tightly around the beer as she drank, making me groan. Two guys follow her out on the dance floor, seemingly tripping over their tongues as her hips sway in front of them, I watch as they begin to dance, sandwiching her in the middle. Even just looking at the scene made me hot.

I go to the bar tender and down another shot before grabbing a beer, how many was that now? I spot a busty red head wink at me from across the bar as she twirls a strand of her hair around her finger and bites her lip. I take a swallow of beer and briefly look to Maggie, just as her eyes meet mine. My eyes flash as my mind growls, ‘two can play that game,’ and I walk over to the red head.

Maggie’s POV

I look over to the bar, to make sure Max won’t interrupt my decision making… err, I mean dancing. I spot him sitting on one of the bar stools, his stormy eyes immediately catching mine, making me shiver inadvertently at their intensity even with the current extreme heat I was pressed between. I watch as his gaze drifts to the end of the bar where a red head, whom had previously tried to pick up Crosby and Malkin, winks at him. His gaze snaps back to me and with a slight smirk he makes his way over to the red head. I watch as he whispers something in her ear, to which she responds with an eager giggle and nods her head. I roll my eyes as he offers her his hand and she giggles again, following him out on the dance floor where they begin doing exactly what I was doing, deciding. For them it was deciding if they were going home with each other, for me it was deciding which one of the two guys I was sandwiched between was going to scratch my itch.

I watch as Max snaps his gaze quickly up to me with a smirk and it hits me. Was he trying to make me jealous?! Please, if anything this girl was taking him off my hands. She could do what ever she wanted with her perfectly manicured hands and high heels. If she was with Max, that gave me the opportunity to take one of these guys home.

“Hey Synder, I’ll see ya later,” I hear the guy currently pressed against my back tell his friend that was pressed to my front. A man that takes charge that’s what I like, I think.

‘Snyder’ looks down at me, and I flash him that ‘sorry kid maybe next time’ smirk making him drag his feet as he leaves the dance floor. Letting his friend get some action tonight instead of him.

I can immediately feel the guy behind me straighten his posture in a more dominant manner, he had won his mate for tonight and I’m sure the victory had pumped up his testosterone and his ego. His hands come up to my hips, pressing me harder into him as he grinds into me, my hands move up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me. His lips come to brush my neck by my collarbone making me hum with pleasure. But then his lips venture higher and graze lightly against my tattoo, I tighten my fingers, pressing them into his neck more as I bite my lip and allow my eyes to close at the feeling.

“Oh, ya like that, huh?” he whispers gruffly in my ear.

He lets out a slight chuckle, no doubt getting another ego boost at the knowledge that he had found my weakness. His mouth moves over the spot again, this time giving it a small nip and then running his hot tongue over my skin. I let out a quiet groan before he spins me around so that we’re front to front. His lips almost immediately crash down on mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. Like I said, I like a man that takes charge, but this guy was a little too high on his high horse. His ego was getting the best of him. As his tongue moves around in my mouth I feel his hands wonder up from my hips and under the hem of my shirt.

This guy was getting way too cocky; to be honest he wasn’t even that great of a kisser. I could tell this guy wasn’t going to last very long in bed if he kept it up. But right now, I wouldn’t protest to letting him take me home. I was damned itchy.

His thumbs brush the underwire of my bra and I pull away from his heated kiss.

“Whoa, hold on there Tiger, we’re still in public,” I purr, looking over his face. He was a little under 6’5’’ (well over a foot taller than me) and you could tell he spent a good amount of time in the gym. He had sandy blond hair and light brown eyes. He was definitely hot, just a bit too drunk.

“Well then what do you say we get outta here,” he rumbles back, his light brown eyes slightly glazed over from the alcohol he had consumed and the lust that was running through his blood.

I put on my best sexy siren smile and am about to agree when a voice growls behind me.

“Go find another girl to take home, ‘Tiger.’ She’s not leaving with you,” the familiar voice growls, his French accent coming out more in his anger and drunkenness. I groan inwardly, as I turn to face him.

“Max…”

“Come on Maggs, we need to leave,” he says lowly, his hand coming to my arm to pull me away from the guy.

“Hey, fuck off 'Superstar.' Go find a different trophy. She’s with me tonight,” my would-have-been -itch-scratcher replies.

“Excuse me, trophy?” I respond turning to look at him, but he doesn’t hear me as he and Max continue their staring match.

The guy is taller than Max by a good 5 inches and he had at least 20 more pounds on him. I sigh, there was no way this was going to end well.

“Sorry, but she’s already taken,” Max growls back as I’m some how pushed out of the way and they stand dangerously close to each other.

Taken?! Like hell I am!

Suddenly, I hear a solid thud as a fist connects with Max’s jaw.

Chapter 4: Max's 'New Bunny'

“Pop, pop, pop, pop…pop”

My teeth grit as I hear the noise, while Maggie obliviously looks off into space.

“Ugh, I hate when you do that,” I groan, covering my ears and looking down at her hands. She had multiple leather, hemp, and beaded bracelets adorning her left wrist, with charms that hung all over the place in a mismatch of colors. She had a silver band covered in Celtic knots on her left middle finger, and a curvy silver band on her thumb. He right ring finger still bore a simple silver band, just like it had in high school. I look to see dark green letters running up her thumb bone on her left hand. “Is that a new one?”

I run my finger over her soft skin, my finger tips slightly tingling at the warmth of her hand.

“Depends on your definition of ‘new.’ I got that one shortly after I got to Penn State. It’s O’Malley in Irish,” she says, referencing the words, “Ní Mháille” that I had just touched.

“O’Malley?” I ask, my brows knitting together in confusion.

“Yeah, part of my heritage. Partially for the Pirate Queen of Ireland, but mostly for my mother. It was her maiden name,” she smiles softly, her fingers tracing over the words as her thoughts carried her away from the table.

“Oh,” I state quietly, not knowing what else to say.

I had never met Mrs. Sutherland, and I didn’t know much about her. I remember when we first met, Maggie and I, I had asked where her mother was. She looked up at me with those bright green eyes, with a hurt I had never seen before. She didn’t say anything, just that she would see me the next day after her soccer practice. Sean later told me that their mother had died when Maggie was only 7. It had apparently devastated her. I also knew that Bridget Sutherland was buried in her native Ireland, but that was all I knew about her. Maggie had grown up in a house full of guys and her mother was a sore subject. Of course her father was too, he never understood Maggie, and Maggie never wanted what he did. She was always dismissing the Admiral’s orders.

“What about you? Any ink?” She sighs, coming back to the present day.

“Yeah, two. The signature Talbot ‘T’ on my right bicep, and a cross up my ribs. But I’ll show you later, not here. I’d have to take my sweater off and it’s chilly.”

“Wimp,” she says rolling her eyes. But I catch her eyes wandering over the places I had said.

“So is that all the ink you have?” Knowing it surely wasn’t, but wanting to know what else she had.

“Ha, no. I’ve got a few. I get a tattoo when I go to a new country or place, and feel that I should commemorate,” she laughs, “the names are scrolled running down my spin, I think I have about 16 right now. I have some important words on written on a few of my ribs. I have one that’s far enough down that you’re never going to see. And I have the two Native American feathers behind my ear.”

“For the Mohawk on your dad’s side, right?” I ask, reaching out to brush away her thick coffee colored mane away from her neck, revealing the two eagle feathers behind her ear. My thumb as a mind of it’s own as it brushes over the area, feeling her slightly flinch at my touch. I can’t suppress the small smile as I think of when she first got them her senior year. She went behind her father’s back and I was one of the first people she showed.

Maggie and I were constantly fighting and flirting in high school but it never amounted to anything. I had thought about asking her out, but it was Maggie Sutherland. If she didn’t kill me, surely one of her brothers would have. But I distinctly remember her showing me the tattoo. I had reached out and touched it, to which she flinched because it was still sore. I had a bruise on my left shoulder for a while after that. A friend of mine had once gotten lucky enough to make out with Maggs at a party, apparently her neck was sensitive, and those feathers were placed in just the right place. After hearing that every time she wore her hair up or brushed it back to show off her rebellion, I had thoughts of dragging my tongue over them and eliciting a moan from her full pink lips as she tugged on my hair.

“I remember the feathers. That’s how I recognized you. Boy, was the Admiral pissed when you got those,” I laugh, finally getting out of my hot and heavy thoughts.

“I thought he was going to send me to sea right there. He might never have found out, if Paddy would have kept his damned mouth shut,” she grumbles.

“And what about this tattoo lower down?” I ask. Did she really think I was going to forget she said that? I grin as I see her cheeks flush a slight pink.

“That’s for only me and the privileged few to know,” she says looking down at her coffee.

“Privileged?” I laugh, “I’ll have you know I happen to be a Super Star.”

However, I did know that it was a privilege. Maggie was picky… or at least she was in high school. No guy that I knew had ever gotten her in bed. But two had come close. From what I heard, she was the best kisser around and she could do wonders with her tongue.

“Ha! Please. Like I said, it’s a privileged secret,” she grins, a sexy sly grin. Those emerald eyes darkening.

I think for a minute of what it could be.

“Is it dirty?”

“Like I would tell you! Sorry, Max, but you won’t be finding out,” she glares at me, with a small grin.

I took her words as a challenge. I will find out, even if I have to work my ass off to get there. Maggie was the one that got away, the only one that had ever gotten away. And I was determined to not let her get away again. Not a relationship, no, there was no way I would surrender to the tying down of a relationship. Nor would she for that matter. But there was only one way to cut the obvious sexual tension between the two of us. I would get her in bed, and find out just what exactly that tattoo was and get a good look at the rest of them while I was at it. I would drag my tongue over those feathers and as I worked my magic, I would get not only a few moans, but a few screams. I could just picture her, biting her lip with her head thrown back and her eyes closed in pure ecstasy. I plan on driving Maggie Sutherland insane, until she begs me to fuck her. And I’m sure it would be the time of her life.

“What if I want to find out?” I ask, deepening my voice.

I watch as her eyes widen slightly in shock as she just stares at me for a few moments. I had finally caught her by surprise. Finally I had the upper hand and rendered her speechless. But then like a switch, her eyes narrow and she stands up. I catch a quick glimpse of golden colored skin by her hip, poking out from between her worn jeans held up by a brown leather belt and her thermal dark green v-neck long sleeve shirt. Maggie was never that into fashion, but her style fit her and to Maggie that was all that mattered. She walks to my side of the table with a slight sway to her curvy hips, bending down close to me. She swept her hair to one side, allowing me to look at those eagle feathers and smell a sharp aroma of mint and pepper. Her lips brushed against my ear, almost making me jump at the contact.

“In your dreams,” she snarls, before picking up her coffee cup and heading toward the door.

I grin and quickly grab my cup before following her outside. That was Maggie Sutherland, wild and untamed, taking no one’s shit.

“So, will you?”

“Max. I don’t know,” she sighs into the phone, “I’ve got a lot of unpacking still and I start at Fort Pitt in a few days.”

“Come on Maggs! It’s just a hockey game, plus all of the guys want to meet you,” I plead.

I hear her sigh deeply on the other side; she was beginning to cave because she really did want to go. Otherwise she would have told me flat out no.

“Alright. Fine.”

YES, I grin.

“What team are you playing so I don’t accidentally wear their colors?” she sighs. I could tell she was walking around her apartment; opening boxes every so once in a while. I had told her I would help her unpack, but she insisted I would get in her way… which I probably would have.

“How about you stop by the locker room before the game? I’ll have something for you to wear,” I find myself saying before I can stop myself, immediately making me wish I hadn’t. This wasn’t some puck bunny I was getting to take home after the game, it was Maggie, I would have to actually work to get in her pants.

“Fine,” she huffs.

Fine? Fine? It couldn’t be that easy.

“Great, umm… I’ll have tickets waiting for you at the arena,” I say a little surprised, “Just come down and show the pass to the guard before the game.”

“Ok Max, see you then,” she hummed into the phone, obviously done with this conversation.

“Bye Maggs,” I grin.

Maggie’s POV

“Maggie Sutherland.”

“Give me one second…” the lady says, “Oh, here it is! Here you go Ms. Sutherland. Enjoy the game.”

“Please it’s Maggie,” I grin back at the older lady, “And thank you very much, have a good night.”

“Why thank you Maggie!” she smiles back before I walk away to find my way around. There really weren’t that many people around yet, being that warm-ups hadn’t even started. But I needed to get here early, especially since I had no idea where I was going. I always have to get lost first before I find my way around.

I made it to the glass, and gazed out over the ice. I watch as a guy in shorts and tennis shoes shoots pucks into the net. He didn’t have any gear on but his gloves. I can’t help but let out a chuckle, some things never change. I take a seat in one of the chairs and just watch him, letting my mind wander.

It had been years since I was in an ice rink. Being Canadian, my father made sure that all of my brothers had their taste of hockey. Paddy and Sean especially liked the game, but the Admiral refused to let me play hockey for a team. Girls didn’t play hockey. So I would go to Sean and Paddy’s practices and games and in return they came to my soccer games. When we lived for a while in Ontario (the Admiral always had the family moving around) I remember crying because Paddy got to take hockey lessons, but I wasn’t allowed. I cried because I was the same age as Paddy (6 years old). I didn’t understand why I couldn’t play too. The Admiral told me that only boys play hockey, that girls ice skated, but I’d be damned if I was going to be seen in those dresses. I wanted to hit people and score goals, not jump and twist about. I cried and I cried until my mom finally found me under my favorite tree. I remember sitting in our kitchen with my cup of tea telling my mom what happened. After that she somehow convinced my Dad that soccer could be a girl’s sport too.

BAM

I jump at the loud sound and I look up and see him grinning that cocky full of himself grin at me. He had just shot a puck at the glass right in front of me.

“Asshole,” I mutter as I make my way over to where he was exiting the ice. There were a few more people now in the arena. How long had I been sitting here?

I look at him over the black railing as he grins up at me.

“I told you to meet me in the locker room,” he says.

“Well I couldn’t find it!”

“Look, just go around to…” he begins pointing the way, which would no doubt take me 10 minutes to get to the locker room when it was right there.

I roll my eyes at him as he continues to explain, standing up and giving the rail a good shake. I look around to see if anyone is watching and when I’m satisfied enough I jump over the rail, landing next to Max who just looks at me stunned for a minute.

“Or… you could do that,” he chuckles shaking his head, “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone real fast.”

He leads me through a grey door marked “Penguins Locker Room” as if it was that simple. Little did everyone else know it was almost impossible to find a clear marked path down there.

As we walk into the room I’m hit with a smell I haven’t smelled in awhile. An almost musty smell but with a slight scent of men’s cologne or body wash. It smelled like used hockey gear and gym socks. A dampness sort of stuck in the air as guys chatted in their wooden stalls surrounding the Penguins Logo on the floor. It smelled like… like… Paddy and Sean’s room. Ah, memories.

As the door closes behind us, one of the guys finally looks up. He looked older than us, with short dark hair and stunning eyes and of course that hockey player build.

“Max, who’s your lady friend?” he asked smoothly with the undertones of the French Canadian accent I knew so well.

“Guys, this is Maggie Sutherland. Maggs, these are the guys,” he gestures around to the room of 15+ men.

“Boys,” I greet back with a small salute.

A few chuckles ring out as a couple of them salute me back, while the others settle for a “Hey Maggie.”

“Ok, over here Maggs. Let’s get you dressed for the game,” Max says pulling me over to his stall. Next to him sits the apparent goalie of the team, who looks up at me with big dark brown eye, his dark hair concealed beneath his hat as he shows me a huge grin. I recognize him as one of the guys in the pub.

“Hey,” I smile at him.

“Hey, Maggie, right?” he asks his voice also carrying a heavier French Canadian accent. How many were on this team?!

“Yeah, and you are?” I grin back.

“Marc. I saw you in the pub the other day,” he says shyly.

“Yeah, I recognized you, but when he rattles the names off they don’t really stick,” I say rolling my eyes as I point my thumb in the direction of the man digging through a bag. “Max Talbot that shirt better not smell like your sweaty ass …”

“Aww… Maggs, you don’t have to pretend, I know you want a piece of this,” he says gesturing to himself, to which I let out a very lady like snort while rolling my eyes, “You’re not putting it over the fleece are you?”

“No, I have on a shirt underneath. I don’t know if you noticed but it’s a tad chilly outside,” I snap sarcastically, unzipping my jacket.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he asks.

“Putting on the shirt you gave me?” I say looking at him astonished, was he serious?

“Not here!”

“Max, I just told you I have a shirt on underneath,” I say exasperated.

“But you can’t change in here, this is a locker room,” he says gesturing around.

I stare at him like he’s insane. Did he just hear what he said? I can’t change in a locker room? I look over at Marc who is trying desperately to suppress his laughter, before giving Max a confused look.

“Not before a game, ok? Just put it on in the bathroom,” he sighs, running a hand through his short hair as I watch him drag his eyes up my body, to which my face slightly flushes.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say lowly.

“Please Maggie,” he says quietly, looking up at me with hurt blue grey eyes.

I sigh and roll my eyes, knowing it’s just one of those hockey player things.

“You hockey players and your damn superstitions. Fine. I’ll see you after the game,” I sigh sarcastically, moving out of the locker room.

“What, no good luck kiss?” Max calls before I can reach the door.

The room let’s out a chorus of catcalls and whistles as I turn on my heel to glare at him, ignoring the summersault my stomach just did.

“Don’t make me break your nose Talbot. I can throw a punch better than Liam can,” I growl pointing my finger at him. Making the collective “OOOoooo” sound around the room. He just grins at me that cocky grin before I turn back around.

“Good Luck Boys!” I yell as I’m walking out the door.

Max’s POV

“Max, you coming with us to Diesel?” TK asks from his stall, unlacing his skate.

“Yeah, you can bring your new bunny, Maggie,” Matt Cooke calls over.

“My new bunny? Don’t let her hear you say that or you’ll be missing a few more teeth,” I laugh.

“Yeah, she seems like a feisty one,” Staalzy says.

“That’s because she is,” I laugh.

“So what’s the story with her? You finally settle down?”

“With Maggie?” I can’t help but laugh, that was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard,

“No, if there is one person that would be less likely to settle down it would be Maggie. No, she and I were neighbors in our last two years of high school.”

“Hmmm, so she’s single?” Jordan asks.

“Yeah? But I’d watch out if I were you. Maggie can be quite the handful. She had to keep up in her family,” I chuckle.

“Big family?” Sid asks from his stall pulling off his sock.

“5 brothers.”

“Damn. I though I had it rough.”

“Yeah, all older than her too.”

“So she can keep up with us. You’re going to bring her along aren’t you?”

“I’ll try my damnedest.”

As if right on cue there is a knock on the door, asking if everyone is decent. After a chorus of “Yeahs” a raven-haired beauty walks into the room wearing a black Penguins t-shirt.

“Well, well, well, Mr. Talbot. That was a pretty good goal,” she says with a grin walking over to my stall.

I smile back; her smile just seemed to light up the whole room. The shirt was way too big on her petite frame, but somehow she made it work. She had tucked it into the front of her jeans, making the gold of the worn belt buckle stand out. The ends of the sleeves hit just below her elbows as she had her fleece coat hung over one arm. I wanted to grab onto the leather belt and pull her into me and silence her smart mouth with my own.

“Thanks Maggs! So you liked the game?”

“Yeah, I did. I forgot how entertaining hockey could be, I missed it,” she smiles plopping herself down on my seat. I huff in frustration, having nowhere to sit now. She simply grins at me, knowing she was getting under my skin.

“Hey Maggs the boys and I were wondering if you wanted to come out with us tonight, celebrate the win?” I ask casually.

“Depends on where you are going,” she says looking around the room as if analyzing the scene.

“Diesel, it’s this club on the Southside,” I begin.

“Yeah sure,” she shrugs.

Was it really that easy? The girl that always avoided high school dances and prom was agreeing that easily to go to a nightclub?

“Really?” I ask shocked.

“Sure, why not. I’ve got nothing better to do, might as well check out some of Pittsburgh’s nightlife. After all I am living her for a while.”

“Wow, ok… well, if you want you can go home and change, I guess. I could pick you up there,” I say rubbing the back of my neck.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. I just wait for you. My stuff is packed away in boxes anyway, not that I’d wear it anyway. It’s not like I’m going on a date.”

“But Maggs, you’re wearing a t-shirt and jeans,” I point out.

“Thanks for the insight Joan Rivers,” she rolls her eyes, “I can compete in this. I don’t need your little puck sluts’ short as fuck skirts and break-your-neck heels to get a guy.”

“Maggie….” I warn, the last thing I needed was for some blond chick to go home with a black eye that she received from the crazy ass tomboy with a mouth like a sailor at the club.

“See you soon,” she waves before leaving the dressing room leaving me to get ready.

“Pain in my ass,” I grumble throwing my shirt into the locker as I continue to strip to get to the shower.

I walk out of the locker room and into the waiting area where all the players’ wives and girlfriends waited. I look around the room but I can’t see Maggie anywhere. I catch the eye of Marc Eaton’s wife, Sharon.

“Are you looking for someone, Max?” she asks.

“Umm… yeah. Was Maggie down here?” I ask confused.

“Maggie? I don’t know her what does she look like?”

“Dark brown hair, green eyes, about 5’2’’ with a Talbot shirt on that’s too big for her,” I say thinking of the girl that barged into the locker room about a half hour ago.

“Nope, haven’t seen anyone like that in here,” she shakes her head.

“Oh. Hmm… ok thanks, Sharon,” I respond. Where could she have gone?

I walk back out near the locker room, and look up and down the halls, but there is no sign of her. I turn to my phone, quickly finding her in my contacts.

“Are you done yet?” she sighs impatiently on the other end after 3 rings.

“Yeah, where are you?”

“By the locker room.”

“What?” I ask, walking back over there, “I’m standing by the door but I don’t see you.”

“Really? Cause I can see you just fine.”

I look around down the hallway, but there is no one there but TK who is leaving to go to Diesel.

“Maggie, where the fuck are you?”

“Right here, dumb ass,” I hear her whisper from behind me, making me whip around. There she was, just standing their smiling up at me with those emerald eyes, teasing me.

“How the hell did you get there?” I ask exasperated, how did she always manage to get under my skin?

“I was sitting in the stands,” she shrugs.

“Are you allowed to do that?”

“I dunno, but Jimmy didn’t stop me.”

“Jimmy? Who’s Jimmy?” I ask confused as to how she always does this.

“The security guard outside the door,” she says simply putting her hands in her back pockets.

“You know his name?”

“Yeah, and he knows mine. I also know that he has a fiancé named Amy, they have been dating for almost 3 years, and sharing an apartment for a year. They’re thinking a Spring Wedding next year. Oh, and they have a gold fish named Jaws because Amy is allergic to dogs and Jimmy is allergic to cats,” she smiles up at me bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, “So are we going or what?” She begins to walk away leaving me to stand there, wondering how in God’s name she knew all this shit about our Security Guard. I watch as she continues to walk down the hallway her hips swaying with her hands in her back pockets.

I run down the hall to catch up with her.

“How the hell do you know all that?”

“It’s my job,” she shrugs.

“What do you mean it’s your job?! You’re a photographer!”

“And an archaeologist. And as an archeologist, it’s my job to get to know people and how they live. Except usually my specimens have been dead for a few centuries,” she says as if thinking things over, “Plus I’m a personal people person with an infectious smile,” she grins.

“And humble as all hell,” I laugh walking with her down the hallway and out to my car.

There was no doubt in my mind that this trip to Diesel would be interesting with Maggie Sutherland tagging along.

Chapter 3: Pain in my Ass

“Break down the Walls, Kick down the doors, we’re escaping….”

I groan, covering my head with the pillow in an ill attempt to shield me from the Young Dubliners.

“I’m not hear, dammit!” I moan.

“…All bombs away, we live for today, no more waiting….”

I sigh and grab my phone off the makeshift bedside table of boxes.

“What?” I mumble sleepily into the phone, not bothering to look at the caller I.D.

“Oh… still not a morning person, eh?” a cheery voice laughs at me.

“What time is it?” I ask, pulling my watch close to my face so that I can read it without putting on my glasses.

“8 o’clock sleeping beauty,” he chuckles.

“Why the hell would you call me at 8 in the morning on a Saturday?” I grumble into the phone.

“Just so I could hear your cheery voice.”

“Max. It is too early for sarcasm, what do you want?”

“Awww, Maggs, it’s never too early for sarcasm!”

“I swear to God, I will hang up on you, Talbot, and turn my phone off if you don’t get to the point.”

“I wanted to know if you wanted to get a cup of coffee,” he asks in a cheery voice that makes me cringe before the coffee has been had.

“At 8 in the morning?”

“Umm… yeah, that’s generally when one drinks coffee.”

“Max,” I groan.

“I’ll pick you up at 8:30,” he laughs, before hanging up the phone.

I groan, curling up into a tighter ball and pulling the covers over my head.

“Brrr….Brr…. Brr….”

“Oh for God’s sake!” I shout, grabbing my phone off the box.

“From: Max Talbot - Where do you live?”

I sigh in frustration, throw the covers off of myself, and get up, texting Max before heading into the shower.

“Pain in my ass…” I grumble.

There is a rhythmic knock on my door as I fasten my watch on my right wrist. I get up from the bed and make my way to the door, butterflies seemingly fluttering around in my stomach.

Butterflies?

That couldn’t be, it was only Max. I don’t have feelings for him. I couldn’t. It was probably just because I hadn’t eaten breakfast. That was it, I just haven’t eaten breakfast.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my sudden… err, breakfast hunger, and open the door. He is leaned against the doorframe, in a pair of worn out jeans, and a grey t shirt, with a stripped sweater over top and a grin plastered on his face.

“You look great Maggie,” he says in a charming manner, making me grit my teeth.

“Uh huh, sure. Let’s go Talbot, I need coffee,” I grumble, shrugging my jacket on and walking away quickly to grab my keys.

“You do!” I hear him say from behind me, “Nice place, love the decorating. I heard geometric was in, but you went all out.”

“What can I say, I just love the homey contemporary feel of moving boxes, “ I say with a cheesy grin, coming back over to the door and stepping out to meet him, locking the door behind me.

I begin walking down the hallway to the stairs, ignoring the elevator as I usually do.

“Uhmmm… is something wrong with the elevator?” I hear him say behind me.

“What?” I ask turning around, “Oh. No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“Then why are we taking the stairs?”

“To go downstairs?” I say confused.

“But the elevator works, why not take it?”

“Exercise?”

“Oh look, see it’s even empty, let’s go Maggie!” he calls from inside the elevator.

“Honestly,” I huff in annoyance before walking back down the hall way to the elevator.

“I thought you said you were a hockey player. Are stairs really that much of a problem?” I ask.

“Nope, just like the elevator. And you do look good today, Maggs,” he says quietly, looking down at me as we stand shoulder to shoulder in the elevator for no apparent reason.

I look up in surprise, wondering why he brought that up again. My eyes connect with his in confusion, and I find it hard to tear away from his gaze.

“Thanks,” I manage before I hear a ‘ding’, bringing me out of the temporary trance he had put me in. I walk out of the elevator with him following closely behind me. Must be the lack of coffee.

“So, where are we going for coffee?” I ask, slowing my pace as we walk out of my building and onto the sidewalk.

“There’s this little hole in the wall coffee shop a few blocks over, The Mud Puddle,” he sighs going over to his car.

“Wait, what’s it called?” I ask stopping.

“The Mud Puddle?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.

“You get coffee at a place called ‘The Mud Puddle?” I say biting my lip to contain my laugh, “Should I have brought my galoshes?”

“They have good coffee!” he says defensively.

“Uh huh, sure they do… hehe… Mud Puddle,” I grin, before climbing in the passenger’s seat of his car, as I see him roll his eyes closing the door behind me.

I sit in my seat at a small table that of course Max picked by the window, watching the busy Pittsburgh life, even on a Saturday morning. I have to admit, this place was cozy and it smelled wonderful. I sigh softly, resting my chin on my hand, watching a young mother and her daughter walk buy, hands swinging.

“Here you go, to give you that fix you need,” Max says setting a grande coffee down in front of me, and a blueberry scone, ”And I could have just taken you to Starbucks you know. But your scone wouldn’t be nearly as good.”

“Nor would the atmosphere, but I’m still not letting you off the hook,” I grin wickedly at him.

I take a deep breath of my coffee, the smell alone making my brain switch on. I take a sip cautiously, too hot, but I sigh in satisfaction as it hits my taste buds. Black, nothing but black.

“You remembered?” I ask him with a smile, a little taken back that he had remembered.

“Well, not many people drink their coffee black anymore, Maggs. Plus you pounded it into my head that your favorite food was blueberries when we were in high school,” he smiles almost shyly, his eyes lowering from mine.

Max Talbot shy? I apparently needed this stuff through an i.v. I smile taking off the lid so that it will cool faster.

“So, Maggie Sutherland, catch me up. What have you been up to since graduation?”

“Hmm… Let’s see. I got out of the Admiral’s house as soon as possible, went to Penn State. Graduated with my Bachelor’s in Archaeology. I interned with National Geographic as a photographer, and now I work there as a full time photographer and archeologist. That’s about it,” I shrug.

“Wow, that’s it? Maggs you’ve been traveling the world, how can you say that’s it?!” he asks throwing his hands in the air for emphasis.

I shrug.

“What about you ‘Mr. I’m in the NHL now’? Your life doesn’t exactly sound boring,” I grin over my cup of coffee at him.

“Yeah, it’s awesome, if I do say so myself,” he grins.

“Sounds like you’ve said what you were going to do. Pretty big accomplishment,” I smile.

“Whoa! Was that a complement? Coming from you? Maggs, what has time done to you?” he says faking shock.

“Hey, don’t get used to it Talbot,” I growl with a grin, pointing a finger at him before popping a bit of scone into my mouth.

“Never. But what about soccer? As I recall you were captain of your school’s soccer team, weren’t you suppose to go to a school in Montreal with a soccer scholarship?” he asks, “The Admiral said you were going to be in the military as soon as you graduated college, if you didn’t go into the big leagues for soccer.”

“Yeah, well, when have I ever done what he says,” I laugh bitterly.

“Very true,” he chuckles back, “Speaking of the Admiral, how is he… and the rest of the Sutherland crew?”

“From what I know they’re good. Gerry is a contractor in Ontario; he’s got a wife and three kids now. Connor is a gourmet chef in Oregon; he’s married but no kids yet. Liam is a history teacher in Maine now, he’s engaged. Sean is in Alaska right now, documenting the growth rate of trees and some invasice species of plants. And lastly, Paddy is currently in, I think he said Copenhagen, checking out all the different beers there. He’s thinking about opening a pub in Ireland,” I chuckle, thinking about my youngest older brother.

“You and Paddy are twins aren’t you?” he asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Mmhmm… but he’s 3 minutes older than me and won’t let me forget it,” I laugh, all of my brothers were older than me. It was quite a household to grow up in, being that I was the only girl in a house full of 6 guys.

“Ahh, Paddy, Sean, and I had some good times. They were good hockey players too, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah we all played sports, Admirals orders,” I say shaking my head.

“You never answered my question about him, how is your dad?”

“Good, I guess. I haven’t talked to him in awhile,” I shrug.

“How long is awhile Maggs?” Max pushes, he knew me a bit too well, even if it had been 8 years.

“I don’t know. I think the last time I talked to him, was the 10 minute call I placed from Egypt to wish him a Happy Father’s Day. He still doesn’t understand why I am, as he says, ”digging up ancient history and taking pictures of old pots,” I sigh, before taking a sip of my coffee. My father and I never saw eye to eye. “What about your family? Does your mom still make those amazing pies?”

“Ha, yeah, yeah she does. My parents are good, they and my brothers are all in Montreal. Frank is a salesman, and Will builds Rolls Royce jet engines.”

“Ahh, the infamous Talbot brothers, always goofing off in school and always getting into trouble,” I grin, “And somehow usually getting out of it, with all that smooth talking, if I remember correctly.”

“Hey now, those 5 Sutherland boys with their rampant sister were pretty infamous too. No matter how much the Admiral tried, he could never seem to break you, he got close with your brothers but you were always wild. You were always getting in some sort of trouble, and those brothers of yours were always your back up. I distinctly remember Gerry and Sean threatening to turn me inside out, and I believe that it was Liam that gave me one of my first broken noses.”

“You deserved it! You kicked the soccer ball as hard as you could at my face! You’re lucky MY nose didn’t break!” I snap back, my voice slightly rising as I looked at his slightly crooked nose. He was a hockey player, it was to be expected. I’m sure he had had multiple broken noses since Liam had delivered a sharp jab to his nose years ago.

“Well you were the one that body checked me!”

“Oh please you’re a hockey player, shouldn’t you be used to that?” I wave my hand, brushing him off.

“Maggie, it was a pick up soccer game!” he speaks loudly, “… Against the Sutherlands, I should have known better.”

“Yes you should have,” I laugh.

We sit in silence for a few moments, reminiscing about all the good times of our childhoods. I had only known him for 2 years before I bolted out of the house, and out of Canada for that matter. But we still had memories, that was for sure. I crack my knuckles, getting rid of the slight ache in them and catching Max’s attention.

“UGH, I hate when you do that!” he groans, “Is that a new one?”

I look down to where his slightly calloused fingers brush over the dark green lettering, making my skin slightly tingle from the warmth of his fingers.

“Depends on your definition of ‘new.’ I got that one shortly after I got to Penn State. It’s O’Malley in Irish,” I answer in reference to the ink scrawling the words, “Ní Mháille” creeping up my lower thumb bone.

“O’Malley?”

“Yeah, part of my heritage. Partially for the Pirate Queen of Ireland, but mostly for my mother. It was her maiden name,” I smile softly tracing the letters with my fingers.

“Oh,” he quietly replies.

“What about you? Any ink?” I sigh, braking out of my thoughts.

“Yeah, two. The signature Talbot ‘T’ on my right bicep, and a cross up my ribs. But I’ll show you later, not here. I’d have to take my sweater off and it’s chilly.”

“Wimp,” I retort, rolling my eyes after they had looked to his strong right biceps and to his side, wanting to get a look at the muscles… or rather the ink on the muscles.

“So is that all the ink you have?”

“Ha, no. I’ve got a few. I get a tattoo when I go to a new country or place, and feel that I should commemorate,” I laugh, “the names are scrolled running down my spin, I think I have about 16 right now. I have some important words on written on a few of my ribs. I have one that’s far enough down that you’re never going to see. And I have the two Native American feathers behind my ear.”

“For the Mohawk on your dad’s side, right?” he states, brushing my hair away from my neck so that he can look at the feathers behind my ear. His thumb gently brushes over them, and I have to suppress a shiver, inadvertently biting my lip. My neck had always been a sensitive place. I look up to see if he had caught onto my weakness, but he seems to have not noticed. He smiles softly, his eyes on the tattoo as he was in his own thoughts, “I remember the feathers. That’s how I recognized you. Boy, was the Admiral pissed when you got those,” he laughs dropping his hand to his side of the table again.

“I thought he was going to send me to sea right there. He might never have found out, if Paddy would have kept his damned mouth shut. ,” I grumble. That was one of the only things I was accepting of on my father’s side, my heritage.

“And what about this tattoo lower down?” he asks his voice getting smooth as he flashes that charming grin at me that made even me blush slightly. Max had the ability to literally charm the pants off almost any girl.

“That’s for only me and the privileged few to know,” I say setting my face straight.

“Privileged?” he snorts, “I’ll have you know I happen to be a Super Star.”

“Ha! Please. Like I said, it’s a privileged secret,” I grin.

“Is it dirty?”

“Like I would tell you! Sorry, Max, but you won’t be finding out.”

There is a long pause as we continue our staring/ glaring match.

“What if I want to find out?” he asks, his voice getting deeper.

My eyes widen slightly at his words, as I internalize their meaning. His stormy blue gray eyes holding mine, slightly shining at his victory. He had finally managed to catch me off guard. With any other guy the topic we were talking about would have usually ended there, or with him pulling me out the door and back to my apartment, laying me down on the nearest flat surface until I begged him to put me out of my misery. But this was Max. I thought I could count on him to make a joke about it. But right now, everything in Max Talbot’s expression told me that he was dead serious, and it scared the hell out of me.

Chapter 2: Two Small Feathers

“Max, we’re going to head over to The Pig and Fiddle later for some drinks, you in?” Flower asks, undoing the buckles of his pads.

“Nah, can’t today. I’ve got a date tonight,” I smirk at him suggestively.

“Ooohh, you mean dinner before a one night stand,” he chuckles rolling his eyes.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I went out with her before,” I say pointing to him as I make my way to the shower.

“Wow, a two date streak, what a record. What’s her name?”

Shit…

“Uhm… I think it’s Pheobe,” I say over my shoulder.

I think…

“Max,” she whines with a sexy pout, “I thought you said there would be other guys from your team here.”

“There will be baby, just give them some time to get here,” I tell her, giving her a smile and taking her hand in mine.

“But Maaax, what if they don’t come.”

“They will come baby,” I reassure her.

I look around the quiet familiar bar as she sighs. It was pretty well kept secret that the boys had and we knew the bartender, Paul, pretty well. I notice that there is no one here yet, save for a curly raven haired beauty with her back to me at the bar, sipping on a Guinness and downing a sandwich. Never seen her before.

“Oooohhh, look. Is that them?” Julie squeals beside me.

I look to the door to see a few of my teammates stream in.

“Mad Max,” they shout out at me.

“Boys!” I greet.

“Maxi, let’s go over and say hi to you team mates!” Julie squeals again.

“Ok,” I sigh with a grin.

Of course this wasn’t my type of girl; however, if you ask one of my teammates, anyone without a dick and a decent rack is fair game with me. Which was partly true, right now I wasn’t picky, I would get picky when I was ready to settle down. But I’m 26, I’m not ready to settle down quite yet. And right now, tonight, this was the girl I was taking home. I had already taken her home a few nights ago, and she was definitely a good lay. So if I had to show her my teammates for the last round 2, it was a small price to pay. She could flirt with them all she wanted, as long as I got to take her home for tonight and she did that thing with her tongue.

We get up and make our way to the table. Her big (fake) tits bouncing as she wiggled her slim hips over to the table of guys. I doubted that she graduated from Princeton, if she even went to college, but she didn’t burn retinas, that was for sure. She looked like she came close to making it into playboy, and with the amount of clothing she had on, she could have been. She had light brown hair, I could tell it was dyed, but I was unsure (nor did I care) of her natural color. She had big hazel eyes, that were almost lost in the smoky eye shadow and her clothes were so tight, leaving little to imagination. How did women get into clothing so tight? The skirt was short, the shirt was low, and the heels were high (not that I was complaining. She was right out of a maxim magazine. The guys all break out in grins, knowing what I was doing tonight, or should I say who. I see a few tongues come close to hitting the table as my new lay... dy friend and I approach.

“Hey guys this is…” I begin to introduce my puck bunny as the girl from the bar walks buy us, fixing the collar on her jacket. As she pushes her long raven mane out of the collar I get a glimpse of high cheekbones with a dusting of freckles across them, and a small tattoo below her right ear. I could just make out two small feathers. I’ve seen that tattoo before, “… Maggs?”

Her head snaps up to meet mine and I’m met with a pair of green emerald eyes.

“Max!” she says in shock.

“It is you! What are you doing in Pittsburgh? God, I haven’t seen you in what… almost 10 years?” I ask walking over to her and abandoning my very confused table and a less than amused busty brunette.

“I’m photographing Fort Pitt and helping with the dig. What are you doing here?” she asks still shocked.

“I live here. I play for the Pittsburgh Penguins. Don’t tell me you stopped watching hockey Maggs,” I say with a smile.

“Damn, I don’t remember the last time I watched a game on TV. Let alone watched TV. I’ve been in Egypt for the past 2 months,” she grins back, “So you made it, eh? To the NHL, I mean.”

“Yeah I did. Just like I told you I would,” I grin back cockily at her, before I hear Jordan clear his voice over at the table.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. Guys this is Maggie Sutherland… wait it is still Sutherland, right? A guy hasn’t tamed you yet, has he?” I say suddenly realizing that it is a real possibility that she was married, like many of my other friend in Quebec.

“Nah, that’d tie me down too much,” she brushes off. And I find myself feeling relieved?

“Anyway, this is Maggie, she and I lived next door to each other, the last two years of high school. Maggs these are my team mates, Jordan Staal, Alex Goligoski, Brooks Orpik, Evgeni Malkin, Tyler Kennedy, Kris Letang, and Marc Andre Fleury. Oh, and this is Julie,” I say introducing her to everyone.

“Nice to meet you,” the guys chime in together.

“Boys,” Maggie nods with a grin, “Nice to meet you, Julie.”

“Yeah,” my date chokes back with a sneer, sizing up Maggie. Julie sat at the table next to Staalzy and Gogo, placing her boobs on the table and leaning over slightly, giving me and everyone else in the bar, a good look at her twin purchases.

I look around the table and see the guys all seem to be ignoring her and focusing on Maggie. Their eyes traveling the length of her petite body. I look back to her, and actually take in her appearance.

I hadn’t seen her in 8 years, since her high school graduation and she hadn’t grown an inch, still the slight 5’2’’ but her figure was slightly different. It was still the hourglass figure that she had in high school. But now there was lean muscle in place of the smooth skin that had once graced her at 17. She still had the hips and ass that guys secretly dreamed about, and the one she was so self-conscious about. Rounded and in your face, I laughed to myself remembering joking with her after I hung a Frisbee off of it. She had rather small breasts, unlike the brunette next to me, but of course the brunette next to me had gel in hers. Maggie was still the girl who looked best in a t-shirt and worn jeans, I note looking at her faded blue shirt with the word “Nikon” across her chest. The t-shirt stopped where a brown leather belt with a warn gold buckle began holding up faded jeans that hid what I knew to be toned legs underneath, after all she was the soccer captain of her high school. Maggie had those girl next door looks, but with a sarcastic spin to her attitude setting her apart from the stereotype.

Her long dark brown almost black hair had grown out, hitting just below her bust in waves that only she could pull off. The look that girls spent hours in front of the mirror with a curling iron and then shaking their head to tousled perfection. The rich dark coffee coloring, of her hair shined from being constantly dried naturally. Her lips had a natural pink flush with a slight shine from, no doubt, her signiture Burt’s Bees or Blistex chapstick she kept in her pocket. A dusting of freckles was splashed across her slender nose and high cheekbones; from a tan she had received from the sun and not a machine.

Finally I looked up into what captured me the most about Maggie Sutherland. With her appearance, bright blue eyes or dark brown eyes were expected, but in their place were eyes that shown like emeralds. They weren’t the light greenish yellow that most green-eyed people possessed. They were almost the green of a clover, a deep green that seemed to change with every mood. They were framed by long dark lashes, like that my blond friend had glued on. But of course Maggs wore hardly any makeup.

“Why don’t you sit down and have a beer with us, Maggie,” Marc asks.

“No thanks, I’ll let you boys to your fun. I’ve had a long day, I’ve got to get home,” she smiles sadly.

“Aww, come on Maggs. We can catch up,” I grin at her.

“Maybe later Max, I’m beat. I’m still jet lagged and I have to find my pillow and blanket among the boxes,” she shakes her head.

“Still as stubborn as ever I see.. Alright, Maggs, give me your phone,” I say holding out my hand, I wasn’t letting her go that easily.

“Still as cocky as ever, I see,” she replies mocking me, before reaching into her fleece pocket to retrieve her phone handing it over.

I plug my phone number in her phone and text myself from her phone so that I will have her number.

“Looks like you’ve done that once or twice before, Talbot,” she snickers.

“Eh, a few,” I grin back handing her the phone.

She goes to take it but I pull back immediately, to which she gives an annoyed huff. I chuckle and giver her her phone.

“Good to see you Maggs, I’ll text you later so that we can meet up.”

“Oh joy,” she says with a sarcastic eye roll, but the grin on her face told me she was kidding, “Nice to meet you guys,” she says looking over my shoulder at the table.

“See ya around Maggie,” they reply.

She smiles, her dazzling smile and turns her attention back to me, “Later, Talbot.”

“You can count on it Maggs,” I grin at her before she walks out the door; her hips have a slight sway to them as she walks.

I turn around to see all the guys grinning at me, and Julie has her hands on her hips not looking very amused.

“What?” I ask.

Chapter 1: Sunset

This is the new Max Talbot story, "new" being the key word so please, please, please comment and tell me what you think. Your feedback is VERY important. Tell me the story could be better and how, tell me what you don't understand, that my choice of background sucks (don't get used to it, it may change) and if you don't want to make a public comment feel free to email me at pupnpenslover@gmail.com.

Thanks so much for reading!

~Aeryn

Colors of red and purple, orange and yellow streaked the sky as the bright scarlet orb neared the jagged line of buildings, reflecting off the murky waters of one of the three rivers surrounding the city. I had yet to distinguish which river was which, but who knew how long I would actually be here this time. They were telling me that the dig would take at least a few months, but I planned on spending at least 6 months here. Which is why I had signed a 6 month lease agreement. Stay here in Pittsburgh for awhile before I got that itch again, then it was who knows where. Six months was a long time for me to stay in one place, but I needed this for at least a little bit. A little stability, while on a nice safe archaeological dig, I don’t think there are any grave robbers in Pittsburgh that would gladly shoot me up to get their loot.

I watch as the sun sinks a little lower in the sky, while I listened to the boxes shift around me, keeping on my toes incase something went wrong. It always amazes me the colors a sunset can make, yellows, oranges, purples, reds, pinks, the color palate was endless. The sun was one of the only constants in my life, the one thing I could count on to be there. It could be seen everywhere around the world, except for those particularly depressing days in the northern countries and in Antarctica. But other than that, it was always there. And it was here in Pittsburgh too, getting ready to hunker down for the night behind the beautiful city skyline.

“Miss, where would you like us to put this last box?” one of the 3 men wearing tan movers' suits asks.

“Anywhere is fine and thanks very much for your help,” I say turning around from my picturesque scene to acknowledge them before they left.

“Sure thing, good luck in the new place Miss,” he says with a tip of his hat before backing out the door.

I sigh and look back to my scene, hands on my hips. My eyebrows furrow and my right pointer finger comes up to tap the end of my nose as I try to remember where I had left my camera.

Coffee table!

I walk over quickly to the other side of the couch and pick up my trusty Nikon and head back over to the window. Quickly snapping the picture of the sun halfway below the city skyline and half above. I smile to myself, looking at the digital image in the camera. Another sunset from my travels, another snapshot of my life.

I turn away, abandoning the site for now, and look around the apartment I would call my home for the next 6 months. It was rather small, with a kitchen and living room that connected together. The living room lead off into a small bedroom and connecting bathroom and also into a small room, not much bigger than the small bathroom. I planned on putting up bookshelves and a desk there, making it my office. The apartment was rather small, but it was clean and just enough space for me. And it sure beat living in a small tent with 4 guys in the freezing cold of the far north.

There was quite a bit to fit into the space, mostly my photographs from all over the world. Some large ones would hang on the walls; others would decorate shelves wherever there was room. Yup, that ‘s mostly everything I have in my possession, books and photos. That’s all I needed, too much stuff and I would be weighed down.

There was a lot to do . . . but I was hungry. What time was it anyway? I look to the stove clock, “6:25.” My stomach rumbles in agreement with the clock that it was now dinner time.

I search around until I find my black Columbia fleece jacket and slip it on along with my trusty leather boots, that still had sand hiding in the inner corners from my recent trip to Egypt. I had been shooting some shots of the new boats, or rather ancient boats, they were finding in the sands by the pyramids. The wood had been perfectly preserved thanks to the dry dessert climate. It was an archaeological specimen that was too good to pass up.

I shake my head again with a chuckle, I was doing it again. Get back on track. Dinner. I make my way out of the apartment through the maze of boxes and lock the door behind me. Sliding down the aluminum railing of buildings stairs, I was in the cool October weather of Pittsburgh. I took a deep breath, inhaling the frosty air of the night.

I had been all around the world. Had been in all climates, most recently Egypt, Russia, and Israel, and they all were a little different. All of them had a different smell, a different feel. Pittsburgh was one of my favorite cities in the world. It was so unique in its multi culture and set up. I had come here toward the start of my career shooting pictures for a piece on the wonders of the steel city, and the remnants of the once great industrial age. I had fallen in love with the city, and when I was offered the opportunity to dig and shoot at Fort Pitt, I couldn’t say no.

I stop a few blocks from my apartment in front of a small hole in the wall pub with a glowing Guinness sign in the window and a wooden sigh hanging by the door that displayed a pig playing a fiddle. This place reminded me of my beloved birth place and area of my young childhood. With the sudden craving of some kind of sandwich with fries and a good cold beer to go with it, I smile and push open the door.

“What can I get you Miss?” a man in his late 30s asks, as I approach the bar. I could pick up a trace of Irish accent in his voice.

“I’ll have the turkey club sandwich with fries and a Guinness,” I smile at him as I jump to sit up on the bar stool.

“Sure thing, coming right up Ma’am,” he gives me a friendly wink and begins to turn away.

I sigh and my eyes drink in the place. It had low lighting that allowed for a very cozy atmosphere. On the walls hung things that spoke of it’s Irish origins. One picture that caught my eye was like that of the sign that hung out front. This place was called the Pig and Fiddle. There were only a few people that dotted the round wooden tables, making it apparent that this pub had good business, but it wasn’t well known. It was just the place for me.

“Here ya go,” the man comes back, placing my sandwich and beer in front of me on the bar. “Will that be all for now Miss?”

“Yup, that’s great. And it’s Maggie. Believe me I’ll be here a lot, it will be easier to know my name,” I chuckle before taking a swig of my beer.

“Well ok, Maggie. I’m Paul. What brings you here?” he asks wiping the counter next to me.

“Archaeological dig over at Fort Pitt,” I say with a smile.

“So you’re an archaeologist, I take it,” he says in surprise.

I nod, “Yeah, and a photographer for National Geographic.”

“Wow, that’s an interesting line of work,” he says immediately interested.

“You can say that again,” I snicker.

“Well, Maggie, I’ve got to tend to the other customers, but if I see you as much as you say, I’ll be expecting some stories,” he grins.

“Oh I have plenty, Paul,” I laugh as he walks away to the tables.

Out of the corner of my eye I see a man and a woman sit down at a table to my left, they looked to be about my age. The girl had a solid shade of brown hair that was stuck in place with lots of mousse and her boobs seemingly popped out of her tight pink shirt. There was no way those were real. I couldn’t tell what the man looked like because he had his back to me, but I couldn’t help but notice his broad shoulders. I bite my lip and turn around to take another sip of beer. After cracking my knuckles, a habit that pops up when I’m alone and bored, I dig into my sandwich.

“Max,” I heard the girl whine as she pouts her silicone lips

“I thought you said there would be other guys from your team here.”

“There will be baby, just give them some time to get here,” I hear the broad shouldered man say charmingly. I hated when girls whined like that, maybe it was because I had grown up with 5 older brothers.

“But Maaax, what if they don’t come,” she pouts.

I roll my eyes, not hearing what “Max” said back. His name brought back memories though.

I had known a Max when my family had lived in Quebec for a few years during my last years of High School. Max and I had always been at each other’s throats, but I had secretly liked him. I never regretted anything I did, believing that all things had put me where I am now. But I had always wondered what would have happened if I had told him. Oh, well. Wonder what had become of him anyway? He had always wanted to be a hockey superstar, I wonder if he had ever accomplished that dream.

Plus there was the Max that I shared a room with when I was at Monte Alban, photographing the ancient structures there, paying particular attention to the ball courts. Max was an archeologist there, new to the field just as I was. I taught him some tricks of the trade and he taught me about the Zapotec culture. We had a good time... especially in our off time. Boy that heat gets to you and makes the hormones go wild. Plus I was a sucker for blue eyes and this guy had eyes like ice. I grin thinking of Monte Alban. Not my favorite place in the world, but good times. My favorite place was the area of my birth, Ireland.

I was born into a military family; my Father was an Admiral in the Canadian Navy. We were always moving because of it. I was born in the same place as my mother, Ireland, and had lived there until I was 3. From there we had lived in France, Ontario, a few places in the United States, Australia, again in Ireland, before finally going to Quebec, the birth place of my father, around the start of my Junior year of High School.

The door of the pub opens and a sea of tall muscular guys come in, breaking me out of bitter thoughts of my childhood. Well muscled, like I said, and they weren’t lacking in the looks department either. They go past the table that had been making my ears bleed, as I pop the last bit of sandwich into my mouth. I take a swig of beer when a high-pitched squeal comes from Brunette Barbie.

“Jesus Christ,” I mumble, that voice could have broken glass.

I see the guys look over at the sound and break out into sarcastic smirks.

“Mad Max!” they all shout.

“Boys!” he rumbles back.

“Maxi, let’s go over and say hi to you team mates!” the girl squeals again.

I snort loud enough so that only Paul hears, and he lets out a hearty chuckle in understanding. I finish off my beer quickly and leave some money on the table, I wanted to get out of there before “Maxi” introduced Barbie to the guys.

“I’ll see you soon, Paul!” I call over the bar as I shrug on my fleece.

“Looking forward to it Maggie!” he chuckles.

I smile at him and turn around to leave, the smirk that was present on my face immediately drops when I realize that my only way out is passed Barbie and her boy toys. I groan inwardly with an eye roll and start over. Luckily as I approach I seem to go unnoticed as Barbie and Ken move over to the table of guys. I fix my collar on my fleece, pulling my wavy coffee colored hair out of my coat. It was weighing me down quite a bit lately, time for a hair cut I suppose.

“Guys this is… Maggs?” a voice asks.

My head shoots up at the sound of my name and my eyes connect with a pair of familiar blue grey eyes.