*****I would like to thank the main character 'Luc' who helped me out of a downward spiral after losing both my parents, my mother, the year I turned twelve and my father who passed away in my fourth year of college. He went on to excel, and still does in the NHL after his Tier 1 college career. 'Luc,' if you happen to read this, I think about this night very fondly and often which is why I had to put it in words; so I can refer back to it at any, and all the, time. Thankfully we got to spend much more time together than this night and our lives are forever intermingled. I haven't decided whether or not to write a sequel or just to leave it where it is at the end of this submission.*****
I am what many people refer to as a "puck bunny." I like to hang around the ice rink after college hockey games hoping to get to know some of the players who come off the ice better. In recent years, I have begun to wait in the hallway of our college's dressing rooms. The players use one dressing room for gear, dressing, and intermission strategic plays, and the dressing room across the intersecting hallway to exercise and shower. When they cross between rooms, many wear only a small towel that wouldn't be much bigger than a tea towel.
After one game, I was lingering off to the side of a bunch of girls. As I was watching them out of the corner of my eye, I heard my name.
"Hey Jess! Can you wait until I finish up here?" asked our cheery team captain, Luc. I nodded, and flashed a bright smile his way, taking note of one of those skimpy towels and that he wasn't leaving much to the imagination.
In my opinion, Luc was the best looking guy on the team, plus he seemed to have his life mapped out. I figured he wanted to speak to me about a project we were assigned in one of our classes. I knew the team had a 12 a.m. curfew because they would be leaving on a 5-day road trip in the morning. He was pursuing an accelerated Bachelor of Commerce degree, planning to finish in three years instead of four. He was from Canada and his name suggested he was French.
Luc came out of the dressing room, put his arm around my tiny waist and asked if I was ready to go. I smiled at him, nodded, and flipped my hair over my shoulders as we walked down the hall away from the dressing rooms.
Luc looked at me and asked, "Do you have any plans tonight, Jess?"
I hoped he thought I was hanging around wanting a raunchy night but unfortunately I was correct; he suggested we work on our International Trade presentation that was due at the end of next week. As he was going to be away for the next five days, we'd have to work tonight or cram next week when he returned. Since neither of us liked to cram, as we'd discovered working together on previous projects, I figured tonight was as good as any to finish the research and start on the skeleton of the presentation.
We continued walking into the parking lot, his arm still around my waist. I led him to my car, a 1980 4-speed, 190HP-V8 red convertible Corvette Stingray. I watched Luc's jaw drop when he saw it.
"Wow, what a beauty. How did I not know she is yours?" he asked. "I've seen her around campus but figured she was someone's mid-life crisis."
"Know how to drive a stick?" and I tossed him the keys when he smiled. I rounded the car and got in the passenger side, the first time I'd sat in that seat since my father passed away earlier that semester and left me the car amongst some real estate and money.
Luc slid the key in the ignition, turned it, and the engine roared to life. He looked over at me, grinning, and put her in first, second and third as we picked up speed. He drove to his place and before we walked in, we could hear a party already in full swing. Many teammates were already there and doing shots like they were drinking water. Luc shook his head and spoke loudly in my ear, "How about your place, Jess? It can't be this bad."
"What makes you think my place would be messy?" I retorted.
"I didn't say 'messy,' I said 'bad,'" he corrected.
"OK Luc, fair enough. Since you like my baby so much, you can drive," I said and playfully punched him in the shoulder.
"Ow," he said, rubbing his shoulder as if in distress. "That's my shooting arm!"
"Give it a rest, big guy. Get in this car and take me home," I said while emphasizing the word 'home.'
He fired up the engine and took off toward my old apartment.
"Oh wait, Luc, I don't live there anymore. I have a house now," I said.
"Wow, Jess, I thought I knew a lot about you but I guess I'm way off!" Luc chided.
I wondered why he was trying to gather information on me but shrugged it off and gave him the directions to my house, a brick rancher on the outskirts of town.
Luc whistled as I instructed him to pull into the driveway while I pressed the button for one of the garage doors to open.
Before I exited the car, I pressed the garage door opener one more time. I joined Luc on the landing while I unlocked the door.
I stepped in front of Luc, turning on the hallway light. Luc grabbed my ass and gave it a squeeze. I turned around, raised an eyebrow and smiled. He grabbed me by the shoulders, turned me to face him, and pushed me up against the wall. He looked me in the eyes and I felt my heart race. Luc stroked my cheek slowly, moved tentatively closer, and brushed my lips with his. I immediately felt shivers through my whole body. I guess Luc felt something as well as he slid his hands down from my shoulders and cupped my ass and lifted me up, my arms automatically circled his neck..
He whispered, "Where's your bedroom?"
I said huskily, "Just down the hall, second door on the left."
He carried me down to the room which had been mine growing up and I hadn't moved into my parent's room since my dad's death earlier this semester and my mom's death eleven years ago.
Luc laid me on my bed in the dark and began throwing pillows onto the floor. I started laughing when I heard him mumbling in French, something like, "Mon dieu, combien des coussins y?"
Luc said desperately, "Hey Jess, a little help here."
By the time I removed the remaining cushions and pulled back the bedding, I could hear Luc fumbling with his belt and then the distinct sound of a zipper. I thought to myself, "He's a real go-getter, not wasting any time at all!"
"Hey Luc, do you have any condoms?" I asked.
I heard him mumbling something in French, "Tabernacle!" which I knew was the word many French used instead of 'Fuck!' and guessed he had forgotten them but then assumed he either kept them in his bedroom, which he didn't get to or in his car which was still in the parking lot at the college.
"Jess, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."
I responded quietly, "It's ok Luc, I have some. I'll be right back." I went across the hall to the main bathroom, opened the drawer in the vanity, grabbed two and then a third condom.
I took off my jeans, sweater and socks, and ran the tap for a glass of water. I left the bathroom light on as I wanted to be able to see his expressions during and after sex.
