Chapter ten

So Cephalaspidomorphi got pretty boring, pretty fast.
This chapter's pretty short, but whatever. I got a chapter done. :)


“Sidney, stop,” I giggled, his lips pressed against my neck “I thought you wanted me to do the…” I paused, gasping slightly as he slid his hand under the back of my shirt. “furniture,” I finished, finding my words again.

“In a minute,” he mumbled pulling me even closer to him, wrapping his arms around my waist, and pulling me towards the couch.

I turned my head away from his lips, but that didn’t deter him. They found my hair as he pulled me down onto the couch with him. “Alright, stop,” I said, sitting up and away from him, my steel wall going back up.

This is how it had been the past few days. He’d call me and tell me he needed help with some random thing around his house, but when I’d get there, he’d greet me at the door with kisses, which would then migrate to the couch, where I’d get angry and sit up, serious again. I’m not sure why I always said yes to helping him. Maybe because I always thought there’d actually be something to do, and I can never say no to a job, or maybe because I just can’t resist that cute Canadian accent.

“Stop Sidney,” I snapped, swatting his hand away from my arm when he reached up to pull me back down to him. I usually gave in, but I wasn’t in the best mood.

“Come on Aves,” he started. “Look, you wanted furniture, we’re sitting on it.”

“I hate this couch.” I paused, thinking. “I hate when you do this to me.”

He feigned confusion and asked, “Do what?” A slight smile crept over his lips.

“You know I can’t say no to you. So you call me, all frantic, acting like you actually care about what your house looks like, when all you really care about is making out with me,” I stated, huffily, crossing my arms.

“You want to go look at furniture?” he asked me, unfolding my arms, and pulling me back down onto his chest. I rested my head on its side, listening to his heart beat rhythmically in his chest, and nodded against him, but I didn’t move. I stayed in that position for at least ten minutes, just listening to his heart beat, his arms wrapped around my back.

“Actually, on second thought, let’s not look at furniture,” I whispered, closing my eyes and letting his heart beat take me away.

I woke up in the same spot I fell asleep in; lying on Sidney’s chest, one of his hands in my hair. I raised my head and glanced at his face. His eyes were closed and his breathing was rhythmic. Did I really just fall asleep on Sidney Crosby? Oh God. I sat up quickly, waking him up as I did so. He looked up at me with a slightly confused look on his face before he remembered what I was doing there.

“Hey,” he said, sitting up with me, so I was straddling his torso, my arms around his neck.

“Hey yourself,” I replied, kissing his stubbly cheek. I ran my hand across his cheek. “You need to shave. Or are you already starting your beard for the playoffs?” I asked him with a smile.

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” he mocked, returning the kiss, but on my lips.

“I saw that ‘beard’ from last year,” I said, making sure to put air quotes around beard for emphasis. “Pretty pathetic.”

“Hey. Watch yourself,” he said, eyeing me with a look I couldn’t quite figure out.

“Or what?” I asked, getting up from his lap, but before I could walk towards the kitchen, my destination of choice, I felt a little tap on my butt. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to look at him. He had a cheesy grin plastered on his face, like a little kid who’s trying not to laugh.

“What was that?” I asked, pivoting around completely to face him, and putting one hand on my hip.

“Just letting you know who’s boss,” he stated, getting up from the couch and taking a step to fill the gap between us.

“Boss of what?” I asked sarcastically. “You can’t even grow a beard,” I stated with a smug smile dancing across my lips.

“Now you’re asking for it,” he said, pulling me back down on top of him on the couch.

His touch ignited something in me. Something I had never really felt before. This feeling? I wanted him so badly it wasn’t even funny. My hands were wandering under his shirt, but I could feel some hesitation on his part; almost as if he was holding back.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, breathlessly, pulling away from him for a second to take in his face. Confusion mixed with excitement, a combination I had never seen before.

“Who are you? And what have you done with Avery?” he asked with a smile. I blushed and looked down at my disheveled shirt that revealed part of my bra. I quickly fixed it and sat up straighter. “Oh, there she is…” he said, trailing off, his smile fading. “You really need to work on having fun,” he stated, kissing my neck.

“I know,” was all I could muster, because really? He’s right. I’m boring, and all I do is work. But with him? For some reason, he makes me feel like I can be myself, as cheap and Hallmark-greeting-card-like as that sounds, it’s true.