Chapter 11

Patrick gave himself one last once-over in the mirror before exiting his place and heading over to Gabrielle’s. In their last conversation he’d insisted on picking her up to go to dinner tonight. She’d finally given in when she realized he was unrelenting. He wasn’t sure what had more to do with insisting; the chivalry of driving her, or the curiosity of seeing her place.

He got into his car and followed his GPS to her apartment building. It looked like a nice place in a decent area not too far from where he lived. He found a place to park on the street and walked to the front door. She had told him to call her when he got there so he pulled out his phone and did just that.

“Hey,” she answered after six rings.

“Hi, I’m downstairs,” he told her.

“Oh, God, you’re on time,” she groaned. He smiled to himself.

“Is that a problem?” he asked.

“Uh, no. I’ll buzz you in, apartment 523, the door will be unlocked so just come on in. Lox is going to bark at you but he won’t bite. This may sound weird but just say ‘Mama said relax’ and he’ll stop.”

The call was disconnected a second later before he had time to respond. Another second later he heard a buzzing sound that indicated she’d unlocked the front door for him. He walked into a nice lobby and got on the elevator, hitting the button for the 5th floor. When it stopped he followed the numbers next to the doors until he reached 523. He cautiously opened the door and was greeted by a black and white, approximately 40 pound dog barking at him.

“Mama said relax,” he said, repeating what Gabrielle had told him to say.

He felt a little silly saying it, but it seemed to work. Loxley stopped barking and moved to sniff the hand that Patrick held out. Once he seemed to have enough he began to wag his tail and gave the outstretched hand a lick. Taking that as a good sign, Patrick began to pet Loxley, who more than willingly let him.

“Hey, I’ll be out in a minute! Feel free to grab yourself a drink!” Gabrielle called from around a corner.

“Thanks!” he called back.

He made his way to the kitchen area as he looked around the part of the apartment he could see. The colors on the walls and of the furniture were neutral, but there were splashes of color everywhere. At first glance it seemed random, but the more you looked at it, the more it worked. Paintings lined the walls of the living and dining areas that he could see.

The kitchen was decently sized and full of stainless steel appliances that stood out against the dark color of the cabinets. The counter was a black marble that seemed to work perfectly with everything else. Another thing he noticed was how clean and organized everything seemed. He almost felt shamed as he thought about the piles of dishes and food sitting on his own countertops.

He opened the refrigerator and looked over his options, intending on grabbing whatever beer she may have had. He double and triple checked over the neatly lined shelves and didn’t see any beer. He grabbed a bottle of water and noticed that he didn’t see any of those sugary girly malt drinks either. In fact, as he gave the kitchen another glance he noticed that something else was different from his kitchen. Unless they were tucked away in a cupboard somewhere, there was absolutely no alcohol in this kitchen anywhere.

“I am so sorry to keep you waiting,” he heard Gabrielle say as he studied a painting on the wall. “I was painting and then I lost track of time. I feel awful because I’m never late. I hate being late.”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” he assured her. Gabrielle grabbed a jacket from a closet and then followed Patrick out into the hallway, locking the door behind her. “So you paint?”

“Oh yeah, just for fun,” she told him. He remembered back to her saying that Loxley had knocked over some paint and then run through the house.

“I’d assumed you were painting your apartment’s walls when you said Loxley knocked over some paint, but that wasn’t the case, was it?” he asked. She laughed and shook her head.

“No, not at all.” Knowing that she was artistic gave him a little more insight into her and made all the color splashes throughout her apartment make a little more sense.

“Do you think I could see some of your work sometime?” He held the door open for her to get into his car as he asked. She waited to respond until he’d gotten into the car himself.

“You already did. You were looking at one when I came out tonight,” she replied. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise. The painting had been good. Really good.

“You’re talented,” he told her. He glanced over at her and watched her blush a bit at the compliment.

“Thank you. Are you artistic at all?” she asked him. He laughed.

“Not in the least. I can’t even draw a squiggly line,” he joked. She laughed too. So far so good on this non-date.










I walked into the arena with Paige by my side the following night. It was the second game Nathan wasn’t allowed at, but Patrick had asked if I’d wanted to go at dinner the night before. I’d agreed and Paige was more than happy to play her part in hooking Patrick and I up. I hadn’t talked to her about dinner the night before yet, but I knew as soon as we were sitting, she was going to ask.

I was proven right when it was the first thing she brought up once we were in our seats. I told her about him coming over to pick me up and driving me himself. I told her about the smooth conversation and how we spent half of dinner talking about our dogs. Then I told her about how he dropped me off and placed a kiss on my hand before I got out of the car.

“You mean you haven’t kissed him yet?” she questioned. I shook my head.

“We’re just taking things slow and getting to know each other,” I told her.

We settled in to watch the game. The first period didn’t go so well with the Blues going up on the Hawks 3-1. The Hawks came back through the next two periods and tied the game to send it into overtime. Unfortunately the Blues scored in the extra session to win the game. As Paige and I went downstairs, I wasn’t sure what to do or say after the loss. Did he like to talk about it or not? I decided to just not bring it up unless he did.

“Hey guys,” he greeted us when he came out of the locker room a little while later. “It’s nice to see you again, Paige.”

“Same to you,” she told him. Before the conversation could continue someone called out to Patrick.

“Sharpie, are you in?” the guy yelled over. Patrick held a finger up to him and turned back to us.

“A bunch of us are going out. Would you two like to join us?” he asked. Go out, like to a bar? Not really my scene. I didn't go to bars, clubs, etc.

“Sounds like fun,” Paie replied with a smile. I groaned inwardly as Patrick and Paige both turned to look at me. I begrudgingly agreed.

“We’re in!” Patrick called back to the same guy. Paige and I followed Patrick out of the arena and we veered off to head towards her car.

“Oh, sorry I’m going to have to bail. I just got a text from Harding and he’s going out of town early tomorrow morning so I’m going to spend some time with him before he goes. Can you drive Gabby?” I glared over at her. She was lying and she smirked at my glare. This was going to be worse than I thought.

“Yeah, no problem,” Patrick responded.

Paige gave a small wave as I followed Patrick over to his car and got in. He drove to a bar not too far away and parked in a lot. Then he led me into a loud club, getting us right past the line and through the door. We headed to a sectioned off portion where there was already a group of guys and girls I recognized from the rink.

“Hey guys!” someone said, coming up to us. I turned to see Patrick Kane walk over to us. “Can I get you something to drink?” he offered.

“A water is fine,” I told him over the deafening music. He leaned closer to me.

“A vodka water you said?” he asked.

“No, just a water,” I corrected. He gave me an odd look but bought a beer for himself and Patrick and a bottle of water for me.

We made our way over to a group sitting around a table and Patrick introduced me to everyone. The music was so loud, and there were so many people in the group that I couldn’t remember a single name out of the ones that I did hear. We sat down and I struggled to listen and join in to the conversation going on around me.

“Do you want a shot?” one of the girls offered, grabbing one off of an offered tray.

“No thanks. I don’t drink,” I declined. She looked at me like I was crazy.

It was a situation that was repeated many more times through the night as someone new offered me a drink. Eventually I was sick of feeling ostracized for not drinking and got up to go to the bathroom. I liked Patrick, but this was just not me. I started thinking of an excuse to get out of there as soon as possible. I walked through the door of the tiny bathroom and came face to face with two girls who looked shocked to see me.

“I thought you locked the door,” one of them said.

“I guess it’s broken,” the other said.

They tried to block what they were doing as they glared at me, but it was too late. I’d already seen the white powder traced neatly into a thin line. I mumbled out an apology before backing out quickly. I felt my heart start to race and I needed to get out of there. Out of the bathroom, and out of the club.

“Hey, you okay?” Adam Burish asked me as I rushed towards the exit.

“Please tell Patrick I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling well,” I told him before running out the door and hailing a cab.










Patrick took a swig of his beer and looked around. Gabrielle had gotten up to use the bathroom, but she’d been gone for a while. He wondered what was taking so long and got up to go look for her. On his way he ran into Burs.

“Oh, hey, you’re girl told me to tell you she wasn’t feeling well and was going home. She wasn't looking too good. She must have had too much to drink,” he told him. Patrick immediately knew something was wrong.

“Gabrielle didn’t drink,” he replied. Burs shrugged his shoulders before turning to the bar.

Patrick put down his beer and grabbed his suit jacket off of the seat he’d been using. Then he made his way out of the club and to his car wondering what had happened. He drove out to Gabrielle’s apartment, found a place to park and made his way to the front door.

He pulled out his phone to call her when someone walked outside from the building. He caught the door and went inside, taking the elevator up to her apartment. He tried the door and found that it was unlocked. He walked in and found Gabrielle sitting curled up on her couch.

“Gabby, are you okay?” he asked as he made his way over to her.

She didn’t respond and kept her gaze fixed on one spot on the carpet. Her eyes were red-rimmed like she’d been crying, but there weren’t any tears now. Once he’d reached her he noticed that she was shaking. He grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her.

He held her for a few minutes before she suddenly jumped up and bolted out of the room. A second later he heard the sounds of her getting sick. He got up and grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and carried it in to her. She took it from him and rinsed out her mouth before standing up. She was still shaking and he was worried.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he suggested.

She let him guide her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He pulled back the blankets and helped her into bed. She continued to shake so he took of his suit jacket and shoes before crawling into bed beside her. He pulled her into him and held her until she eventually stopped shaking and fell asleep. Not wanting to risk waking her, he settled himself in to spend the night wondering how she'd gotten so sick so quickly.