Chapter 15 [[Year 16]]

[[New Jonathan Toews story -- check it out-- dayandnight19.blogspot.com ]]


Chapter 15
Vero’s POV

I opened the door cautiously, expecting to see some man with a gun that was going to take me hostage. Instead if was Marc-Andre…in hockey pajamas.
“Marc what the hell are you doing h-“ I began to ask before his took me in his arms. He crushed me against his chest before gently capturing his lips with mine. His lips were so soft and warm, but at the same time they were burning with intensity, crushing against mine. We must have stood there on the door steps, kissing for months. Years maybe.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” He said breathlessly, still holding me in his arms.
I laughed. “I do, if it’s anything how Iong I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” I admitted.
“I heard our parents talking one night that we were both slow learners, maybe that’s true.” Marc-Andre said laughing, leaning his forehead against mine. Suddenly, this moment was too intimate to be sharing at the front step of my house. Marc-Andre seemed to sense that to. “Follow me, V.” He said grabbing onto my hand. I eyed him wearily. “Where exactly are you planning on taking me?” I asked.
“Just trust me.” Marc said laughing, a bousterious, happy laugh. I let him drag me through the streets, running after him. All the hockey practice had done him well, I could barely keep up with him. Finally, we got to a familiar place. I laughed looking at the street hockey rink. “Do you need me to boost you up again?” I joked, referring to the first time we ever did it.
“Nope, this time I can help you, my lady.” He said kneeling down on the ground and holding his hands out. I stepped onto them and he hoisted me up, rather easily I might add. I couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles bulged when he lifted me up. I climbed over the fence and spider-webbed down the other side. By the time I looked up and fixed my shirt, Marc had already scaled down. He noticed me gawking and smiled self-consciously. “What can I say? I’ve grown a lot.” Marc-Andre said grinning.
I looked around at the familiar rink, all of the memories flooding back.
“So what are we here for?” I asked curiously, wondering why he brought me here. Once again, he didn’t answer me and just dragged me by hand again. We took me to the net and we laid down with our heads in the net, his arm wrapped around me. With our bodies crushed against each other, I couldn’t suppress the shiver that came. “Are you cold?” Marc asked. I nestled my head into his shoulder, “Never been warmer.” We both stared up at the twine of the net for a few moments, the cold winter night dead silent. “This is where it all started.” Marc said, finally breaking the silence.
“No, it all started in the rink.” I told him, that’s where he first started to want to be goalie.
“That’s where I did start playing first, but the burning passion to want to get into the NHL started here. Having to cram in time to practice with you between school made me want to start doing hockey as a job.” He explained.
I laughed, “I didn’t really do anything. I missed most of the net most of the time.”
He snickered, “And they were pretty soft shots too.” I punched him on the shoulder, “You’re lucky I helped you at all!” I told him. Marc turned and looked at me, “Trust me, I know how lucky I am now to have you.” Marc-Andre said causing me to blush. “So where does this leave us now?” I asked, of course I was going to be that one in the relationship.
“We could try dating?” Marc-Andre suggested in a fearful tone. This was nothing like the boy with the swagger in the net that I saw just a few hours ago.
“I would like that.” I said smiling, trying not to look pathetic by being too happy. He squeezed my numb fingers. He laughed when he felt how cold they were before standing up. “Maybe we should go home before we freeze and our parents flip.” I nodded, that was probably a good idea. We took our time walking home, going slowly and reminiscing on old times.
“You know, I might have a shot in the NHL. If I don’t decline horribly or screw up.” Marc-Andre said softly.
“I always knew it! And you won’t do anything to screw up!” I said excitedly.
“I won’t believe it until they say my name at the draft.” He responded.
“I bet you, you will go first pick in the draft!” I exclaimed.
Marc rolled his eyes, “Goalies don’t go first in the draft, almost never. I would be lucky to go in the second or third round.”
I smacked him, “What happened to the confident, happy Marc?”
He shrugged. “I am happy. I am confident, when I make big saves.” He said.
“Well, I’ll try and come to every one of your games, no promises though.” I said squeezing his hand.
“You’ll be my good luck charm.” Marc-Andre said grinning. I liked the sound of that. Eventually, we got back to our street. Like a true gentleman, he walked me up to my front door, the sun was just beginning to rise.
“Thank you Marc-Andre.” I whispered. Tonight truly was the best night of my life.
“No problem Veronique.” Marc-Andre said before leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said before waving and heading across the street. I let myself into the house and had to stop from letting out a scream of excitement. That’s when I realized that my mom was sitting at the kitchen table with another one of her magazines, staring at me.