Heart Like Yours \\ M. Lucic

Chapter 25

You're gonna hate me

I'm sorry

No I'm not

Oh my gosh

Emotions

Fuck

Omg

Guys I'm so sorry

I love you hahahaha

Songs:
•cry me a river - Justin Timberlake
•forget you - cee lo green
•obvious - blink 182
•beautiful liar - Beyoncé ft Shakira
•misery business - Paramore
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The next morning, we left. Milan had agreed with me that this had been a stressful last couple of days. On the other hand, however, he didn't want to leave just because he had agreed with me. But we ended up leaving. We told my parents that Zdeno had called a captain's practice, and told them we'd be back soon. We would. Just not when Fenton was here. I had made amends with Erik. Milan and I had just gotten home, unpacked, and all of those fun things. It had been an easy couple of days in Boston, just doing laundry, just winding down, when Bergy called. He wondered if we wanted to go clubbing with some of the guys. Eh, why not? we said. So right now we were getting ready. I had on a black, form fitting dress with straps. It was just a little black dress. Meanwhile, Milan was looking absolutely stunning, as he always did, in a black shirt and a pair of black pants.

"Love, you ready?" Milan called from the kitchen. I came out, a quick fix of my hair. "Holy shit."

"What?" I asked, blushing.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he breathed. He wrapped his arms around me, and kissed my mouth.

"Mm, c'mon babe," I smiled. He grinned, before frowning.

"Have you been clubbing since...you know," he asked, frowning again.

"No. But everything will be fine. I have you there," I reminded him. He pursued his lips into a firm line. I pressed my lips to his. "Milan. Don't worry. Everything will be absolutely fine."

Little did I know, I was absolutely, completely, 100% wrong.

*****************

What part of the fact that this gigantic, six and a half foot tall, 235 lbs. hockey player is my boyfriend don't they comprehend? I internally groaned. Several people had hit on me tonight, and each time a different guy came to my rescue. First one to come to my rescue was Bergy. He almost knocked out the guy. Second was Soupy. He just got all pissed and defensive of me. Third was, a little surprisingly, Tuukka. He absolutely flipped his shit on the kid.

"Well," I had remarked to Milan, "I guess it's my own fault."

"Shut up," he protested. "I hate how you automatically you think it's your fault. It's not. Society makes women feel like it's their fault. It's not your fault you want to go out. It's not your fault you wanna feel and look great. And it's certainly not your fault that men don't know how to act. How about the fact that men need to realize that they can't hit on women whenever they like and then rape them whenever they get rejected?"

I had never been prouder of my boyfriend.

"I love you," I whispered. He kissed me softly.

"I love you too."

It was now a couple hours later. I was sitting with Soupy and another kid, one of his friends. His lips (not Soupy's, his friend's) were lingering on and around my neck. I might've been drunk, but not drunk enough to forget Milan was my one and only.