Reflections on Ice Ch. 03

His expression was chagrined but he smiled at her. "I'm not as intimidated."

"You're intimidated by me?"

"Of course." He looked embarrassed for a moment and cleared his throat as Sally approached, pot of coffee in hand. She filled their mugs and cleared their plates.

After she was gone, Cassia turned her face to Dylan again. "Why am I intimidating?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"Come on."

He shook his head.

"Is it because I was drunk and you had to walk me home last time we saw each other?" She felt heat creep up her neck as she asked, and wished, not for the first time, that she'd figured out a way to keep some thoughts to herself.

His face relaxed into a smile. "No. If anything, that made you less so."

"Oh great. Stumbling drunk is a great impression to make." And her night's humiliation was complete.

"It doesn't matter what I think." Dylan leaned closer for a second. "And anyway, I meant that I find most women intimidating, mostly because I can't talk to them."

She lifted her eyebrows. "And I have to point out again, that you're talking to me."

He nodded, not looking away from her face. For once, he didn't look embarrassed. His eyes stayed on hers, so dark and blue, and Cassia was the one who looked away first.

"Now you have to tell me what happened with your friends."

She glanced up again. "Why?"

His smile turned impish. "Curiosity."

She laughed. "Curiosity killed the cat."

"I'll take my chances."

Cassia didn't answer. For a long moment, she studied his face, not sure what she was looking for. "All right."

She recapped the evening's conversation, skipping over her lies about 'meeting a guy' and describing him to her friends, and ending with Vivian encouraging her to bring someone to the cookout the next weekend.

"It must be awkward being the only single person in your group of friends."

Cassia nodded. "Most of the time it means nothing, because we're just hanging out with each other." She sighed and propped her chin in her hands, elbows on the counter. "And then things like Vivian's wedding come up and I feel like such a loser."

"Being single doesn't make you a loser."

"Said the guy I met at speed dating."

He chuckled, not offended. "I guess we're two of a kind."

They fell silent for a minute. Cassia liked that it didn't feel strained, and that she didn't feel the need to fill the space with conversation. Dylan may profess to be bad with women, but he had a knack for putting her at ease.

"I can't judge you for feeling like the odd man out."

She lifted her head. "What do you mean?"

He rubbed his chin, his smile thin. "Well, I see my teammates hooking up with women at bars or team events and I get jealous. Not of the women specifically, but that they can do it so easily."

Cassia nodded. "I get it."

"And they don't ever let me forget my bad luck with women either. Tristen is relentless. Since Jake mentioned meeting you, Tristen keeps grilling me about it, and says he can't wait until casino night on Friday when he can met you."

"Oh man. I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault."

"Well, I could have made up a story when I saw you and Jake the other night."

Dylan laughed and shook his head. "How could you have known?"

Cassia shrugged. She felt bad for piling on. Being self-conscious with women and having his teammates harp on him about it over and over wasn't a pleasant combination.

"I do wish they'd give it a rest sometimes, but there's nothing I can do, short of requesting a trade to New York or something."

"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Another silence passed between them, but they stared at each other. For a moment, Cassia thought he was going to say something but he looked away first. At his expression, something clicked in the back of her mind and the rush of words came out before she could stop them.

"Why don't we do it?"

He looked back, startled. "What?"

Her cheeks flamed as she realized how it must have sounded. "I mean, not do it. I mean, go out."

He gaped at her. "You're asking me out?"

"Well, not exactly." She squirmed under his gaze. "You need someone to go with you to team events, like this casino thing you mentioned, and I could sure use someone to bring with me to all the wedding stuff, so I don't feel like such a fifth wheel."

He didn't say a word. She couldn't read his expression and with each passing second, she wanted to suck back the words and turn back time.

Cassia shoved off of the stool. "Forget it. It was stupid." Fumbling with her money, she dropped something on the counter for her pie and coffee and bolted from the diner.

She only made it half a block before Dylan called her name and caught up to her but she couldn't turn and face him.

"Cassia, wait."

"It's fine. Forget I said anything, Dylan."

He put a hand on her arm. She spun around but couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"You didn't give me a chance to answer you."

She shifted from foot-to-foot, staring hard at his shoes. "OK. I get it. It was a weird suggestion anyway."

When Dylan didn't say anything, she finally dragged her eyes up to his. He had a strange look on his face, and Cassia didn't know what to say.

"Let me get this straight. You want to... pretend to date?" He hesitated as he spoke, as if trying to solve a riddle. "So we can each have someone to take to these events?"

She nodded, a short jerk of her head. When he still didn't speak, Cassia did. "I mean, we've already told other people we met at the Tapley's thing."

"But we're not actually dating." His response was short, his words clipped.

Cassia's face flamed. "No. But no one else knows that."

He nodded. "You're right. No one would know."

Her heart leapt within her chest and she sucked in a breath.

Dylan's face relaxed a fraction and he slid his hands into his pockets. "And you'd be all right with that?"

"With you being my pretend boyfriend so I don't have to go to the wedding alone?" Cassia let out a short laugh. "Uh, yeah. I'd be fine with that."

"You want me to go to the wedding?"

Cassia started to nod but stopped as a thought occurred to her. "Oh, but you might not be able to."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. "What's the date of the wedding?"

"March eighteenth."

He scrolled on his phone for a second before smiling. "I don't have a game that night. We're in Western Canada right before that, but I'll be back late on the Friday, I think."

Cassia breathed a sigh of relief.

"So I can still take you to the wedding."

Her heart flip-flopped again and she had to take a deep breath, telling herself to calm the hell down. "Does this mean you'll do it?"

He slid his phone back in his pocket. "Of course. It's a great idea."

"Really?"

He nodded. "I think so."

Cassia faced him, wondering if he was messing with her, and then feeling bad for thinking it. Dylan had been nothing but kind and friendly to her since they'd met. Although, there had been that one moment last time, in the hallway outside her apartment when there'd been something else in his eyes.

Shaking her head, Cassia stepped closer to Dylan and extended her hand. "All right. Deal."

Dylan looked at her hand for a moment before clasping it in his and shaking once. "Deal."

They faced each other and Cassia felt awkward, not knowing if she should turn to go or say something else.

"You should probably give me your number."

She nodded. "Right. You're right. That's a good idea." She recited it for him and he entered it into his phone.

"And when is this cookout that your friend is having?"

"Uh, next weekend. Sunday."

He looked up from his phone with a smile. "I'm off Sunday."

"Great. And when is the casino thing you mentioned?"

"It's the seventeenth. Friday."

"OK, great. That's great."

They stood, facing each other on the sidewalk, not saying anything. Cassia wasn't sure if she should shake his hand again or run away.

"Can I walk you home?"

His question made her smile, easing some of her nervous energy. "You don't have to."

"I'd like to." He stepped closer and held his elbow out at an angle, his hand still tucked in his pocket. "It's what a boyfriend would do."

Feeling warm all over again, Cassia hesitated a moment before slipping her hand through the crook of his arm. They walked towards her home in silence for several minutes, the sounds of traffic fading as they moved further away from the main road.

"This is weird."

Dylan chuckled. "Weirder than me showing up at the diner?"

"No. Well, yeah. Kind of." She glanced at him. "Why were you there?"

"I told you. I wanted pie."

"And there's no pie in your end of town?"

"There might be, but not as good as Sally's."

Cassia couldn't argue with that logic. "I wasn't sure I'd see you again."

"Why?"

"I made such a fool of myself at Tapley's when we saw each other last time."

"No, you didn't."

"I was literally falling down drunk."

"You made it home."

"With your help."

They exchanged a look and Dylan was smiling. "I didn't mind."

Cassia looked away and pulled her arm from his. She made a big deal out of fishing in her pockets for keys, even though they were still a block away from her apartment.

They didn't say anything else as they approached her building. Cassia turned and faced him at the entrance to the apartments upstairs.

"I leave after the game tomorrow night. We've got a three-game road trip."

Cassia nodded.

"Can I call you while I'm gone?"

"Sure." The thought of Dylan Samuels calling her made her giddy. She smiled and turned to unlock the door. "Good night, Dylan."

"Good night."

She went inside and hurried up the stairs. Kyle was already in his room with the door closed when she got inside and she was grateful for that. She probably looked flushed and harried. Quickly, she washed up, brushed her teeth and locked herself in her room, where she sat on her bed and stared at the far wall.

Oh God, what had she done?

****

The game was going well when Kyle came home from work to find Cassia in sweatpants and sweatshirt, watching Dallas and Carolina battle it out. He didn't say anything at first, and Cassia ignored him, until he came out of his room again, changed out of his work uniform.

"You're watching hockey?"

Cassia nodded, not taking her eyes away from the screen.

"God, I hate winter."

"Why? Because there's no football?"

"No, because you hog the TV for all your weird sports fetishes."

Cassia had to laugh at that. "Sports fetish? You're one to talk."

"I don't sit here biting my nails and yelling when my team gets a penalty."

Cassia turned to him, one eyebrow raised.

He grinned and shrugged. "Fine, I don't bite my nails." He wandered into the kitchen and Cassia heard him banging things around as he presumably made something to eat.

Turning back to the screen, Cassia watched as Dylan skated on for a shift. She eyed the big, white number sixteen on his back and let out a breath as he took his position near the blue dot on the ice.

Kyle plunked down on the couch beside her, sandwich in hand. "Is this at least a Dallas game you're watching?"

"Yes. Shut up."

"Touchy, touchy. Are they losing?"

The puck dropped and Cassia watched the players scrabble for it before the black dot shot out to one side, where it was scooped up by a Dallas player. The players moved off after it, scrambling through the neutral zone and into the Hurricanes end, then the whistle blew.

"Why are they stopped?"

"Stars were offside."

Kyle took a big bite of his sandwich. "Didn't look offside."

Cassia shot him a dirty look. She hated listening to him talk while chewing and he knew it. "This isn't football, OK? Offside is different."

Kyle shrugged and resumed devouring his sandwich.

When the horn sounded, signaling the end of the second period, Cassia sat back on the couch, satisfied with how the team was doing. She'd always been a fan of hockey, and the Stars, but something about watching Dylan now, and knowing him on a personal level, gave the games a new sense of urgency. She was more invested, which was ridiculous, because they were just friends.

"Why do you watch hockey?"

Cassia glanced at her brother as he picked up the remote and started to browse for something else during intermission. "I like it. And it always makes me think of the nights Mom and I would watch games when you guys were off doing whatever during football season."

"Does Mom even still watch?"

Cassia shrugged. "I don't know. Can't remember the last time we watched one together." The thought made her feel bad, like she was neglecting her mother. They'd always been close, but after the episode with Alex, she'd been in no mood to speak to her mother, or anyone in the family, aside from Kyle.

When Kyle couldn't find anything interesting to watch, he let the screen go back to the intermission talk of the hockey game, where the reporter was standing with a player outside the locker room.

Cassia's heart jumped when she recognized Dylan, red-faced and sweaty, shoulders still heaving with exertion. Of course they'd talk to him. He'd scored the only goal in the second period, doubly impressive as he was a defenseman. Beside her, Kyle squinted and pointed a finger.

"That guy looks familiar."

On screen, the short interview wrapped up, and the reporter turned to the camera. "That was Dylan Samuels, with two points in the game. Back to you, Gord."

Kyle turned to Cassia. "Wasn't that guy who brought you home the other night named Dylan?"

Cassia rolled her eyes, even as embarrassment prickled over her skin. "He didn't bring me home."

"But that was him?" He pointed at the TV again. "Dylan Samuels?"

Cassia couldn't think of a response or lie fast enough, and Kyle gaped at her.

"Are you seriously dating him? Another pro athlete?"

"We're not dating." Which wasn't exactly true, not anymore.

Kyle narrowed his eyes. "Please don't tell me you're just hooking up with him?"

"Kyle, we're home alone together here every night. When would I be dating or hooking up with anyone?"

"You managed fine that night when I saw you two making out in the hallway."

"We were not making out."

Kyle's expression was incredulous.

"We weren't." Cassia jumped to her feet at Kyle's continued knowing look. She stalked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. She didn't want anything, she just needed to do something since she'd stormed out of the living room. She pulled a bottle of juice out and closed the door. When she straightened, her brother stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "What?"

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to get involved with someone like that again."

Cassia knew her brother's concern was coming from his heart, since he'd seen how hurt she'd been the year before when Alex had cheated. "Dylan is nothing like Alex."

"I'm sure you thought Alex was nothing like Alex in the beginning."

She nodded. "I guess. But in Dylan's case, it's true. He's not a womanizing creep and he's definitely not the type to cheat." She had no way of knowing for sure, but every interaction she'd had, and the way he was so awkward with women, told her that he wasn't that type of guy.

"How long have you known him?"

"A few weeks."

"And you think that's long enough to know for sure?"

Cassia sighed and moved past her brother to the cupboard. She pulled down a cup, offered him one and he shook his head. She poured her juice, put the bottle away and walked out to the living room. All the while, Kyle watched her, as if expecting her to break apart at any moment.

"Look, Kyle, you need to give it a rest." Cassia looked up as her brother hovered instead of sitting next to her. "Dylan is not an asshole like Alex, I promise."

"If you say so." He turned and walked away, heading for his room.

"I love you too!" she called after him.

"Shut up!" was the response right before his door slammed.

Smiling, Cassia sipped her juice and settled back to watch the end of the game.

****

On the plane, somewhere over Arkansas on the their way to Nashville, Dylan couldn't focus on the book in his hand. He looked at the front cover, not sure why he'd packed such a dry history of the Ottoman Empire. Sighing, he shoved it in the back seat pocket before him and turned his face to the window. It was dark outside, the only light coming from the periodic blink at the end of the plane's wing.

He wondered if Cassia had watched the game earlier. He hoped so. It had been a win, something that wasn't easy to come by for the team this year. He'd wanted to call Cassia almost the minute he'd walked away from her apartment the night before. Then he'd wanted to call after the game ended, but there'd been no time before the team had to be at the airport.

Stop it, Sams. He shook his head and looked away from the window. He was acting like a lovesick teenager, not a pretend boyfriend.

He pulled out his boring history book and flipped it open again. Somehow, he managed to get through a chapter before feeling the plane beginning to descend. The team continued on to their hotel in Nashville, and suffered through a humiliating third period breakdown the next night against the Predators.

In between the travel to their next game in Winnipeg, and practice the morning before the game, Dylan didn't summon the courage to call Cassia until the morning after the loss in Winnipeg.

As he pulled his phone out and searched for her name, he paced through his room, heading towards the window and back again. He looked at the clock on the bedside table and frowned, wondering if she'd be working or not, and wondering about the time difference. He was about to hang up after a few rings, when she answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Cassia. It's Dylan."

There was a moment's hesitation before she spoke again. "Hi. What a surprise."

He smiled, sitting down at the desk. "I told you I'd call."

"Yeah, you did. Hold on one minute?"

"Sure."

There was a rustling sound, as if she'd put her phone in her pocket. He heard muffled voices, something metallic clanging and then more rustling before Cassia returned.

"Hi, sorry. I just needed to come outside."

"Where are you?"

"At work, at the garage."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Should I let you go?"

"No, it's fine. I was due for a break anyway."

"Are you sure? I don't want to get you in trouble."

She laughed. "It's fine. My dad won't fire me."

"Oh, your dad runs the garage?"

"Yeah, haven't I ever told you that?"

"I guess not." Dylan ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward, resting one elbow on the desktop. "That's why I wanted to call."

"To ask about my dad?"

Dylan laughed. "No. Well, maybe."

"I don't understand."

He took a deep breath. "So we're supposed to be dating, right?"

"Yeah."

"And we've talked a few times, but I don't really know anything about you, except that you're a mechanic, you have a friend getting married, and you can't hold your liquor."

She laughed, a sound that made Dylan smile. "Man, I'm so boring."

"You're really not, but I don't know anything else about you."

"All I know about you is that you play hockey and can't talk to women."

"Right." Dylan stood up and started pacing again. He couldn't believe he was talking to her at all sometimes. In person, on the phone, it was all very new to him. "So I thought we should get some basic facts straight."

"You're right. That's a great idea."

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

She laughed again. "I'm not, I promise."

Dylan smiled and leaned on the window frame, staring down at the street below. "Should I start?"

"Start what?"

"Well, tell me your whole name."

She hesitated. "Uh. It's Cassia Laurel Morgan."

"Laurel?"

"It's a family name." She sighed. All in all, not the most embarrassing thing about herself. "What's yours?"