The Road to the Cup ~ Wattys 2015

You

"You don't want to do that."

I turned around, as did Joe. Sidney was glaring at Joe and Geno was trying to calm him down. "Sid, stop. You being idiot. Go home," Geno said forcefully.

"I can handle myself, Geno," Sidney snapped.

"Sidney," I said, the warning clear in my voice. If he didn't shut up or leave, there'd be a problem.

"Erin," he replied, a warning in his voice as well.

I turned back to Joe, "I'll meet you at the bar in a minute. I just need to talk to my friend."

"Okay. If I'm stepping on someone's toes, just let me know," he offered us a shy smile.

"You are-"

"Not," I finished for Sidney, who looked ready to rip someone's head off.

"Umm, okay," Joe walked over to the bar.

I whipped around and stormed past Sidney, grabbing him on my way. I pulled him out of the back door and into the empty alley behind the bar. It was raining a little in Pittsburgh that night, but we were mostly sheltered by the buildings. "What is your problem?" I demanded.

"I don't like him."

"You don't know him."

"Neither do you!" Sidney shouted. He had a fair point there, but I wasn't about to tell him that.

"Why does it matter to you what I do? I'm an adult. I can take care of myself."

"I'm your friend, Erin. Friends have each other's backs-"

"Then you'd be my wingman, not my bodyguard. I swear, you're worse than my brothers ever were!"

"I'm not your brother," he commented darkly, "And I don't want to be your wingman," he took a step forward, and I took one back, becoming aware of the damp brick wall behind me and the small bubble of space between Sidney and myself.

"What do you want to be?" The question slipped out before I could stop it.

His eyes snapped to mine, "Yours. I want to be yours."

I looked up into his eyes and before he could do anything I'd regret, I turned away and went back inside. "Go home, Crosby. I'll be fine on my own." I said before closing the door behind me. I was instantly met by Geno, "Where Sid?"

"Outside. I told him to go home."

Geno muttered in Russian and then went out the door I had just entered. I heard him exclaim something, but I didn't turn back. I couldn't let Sidney Crosby ruin my evening, though I was pretty sure he already had.

Joe was at the bar. I sat down beside him and tried to push Sidney from my head.

"Would you like something?" Joe asked.

"Moosehead, please."

"Is that Candian beer? Isn't that stuff stronger?"

"Yup."

"Alright," Joe ordered it and I looked to see what he was drinking. Light beer. I almost pissed myself trying not to laugh. If the guys found out, they would lose their shit. Some hockey fan.

"So did you ever play hockey?" I asked.

"No, I'm asthmatic, so I couldn't play any sports," Joe didn't seem troubled by this.

"How'd you get into it, then?"

"My first girlfriend introduced me to it. I loved it and kept watching even after she left me."