summary: a year in your life with calum, your friend, who nobody believes is just your friend. you’re also not entirely sure you want to just be his friend.
word count: 4.4k
cw: reader and calum drink(not excessively though??), anxiety about unrequited feelings, lots and lots of fluff. please lmk if i missed anything!
author’s note: i’m perpetually thinking about this man’s arms 😭 reader is down bad for the man (just like me fr) and sorta ragebaits him. i stand by it.
… p.s. feel free to send requests if you’d like??? i love writing but get lost in the sauce inspiration-wise on occasion (aka why this took so long 🤠👍)
thank y’all for the likes, reblogs, and love!
winter
as we waited outside of the restaurant, cool, winter air swept around us, causing a shiver to reverberate through my body. i pulled my clothes tighter, wrapping my arms around myself.
calum turned to face me, a frown crossing his lips as he automatically started to slip his jacket off.
“no, keep it. i don’t want you to be cold.” he ignored my request, continuing to take it off. he didn’t make eye contact as he stood in front of me, carefully wrapping it around my shoulders.
despite the comfort of the warmth it provided, i pouted up at him. “now you’re gonna be cold.”
“i don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he started, running his hands up and down on the sides of my arms, his eyes finally looked up to meet mine. “but i only bring a jacket in case you get cold.”
“you do not.”
“i’d be a pretty bad friend if i knew there was a chance you might be uncomfortable and chose not to help.” he explained with ease.
ouch.
true, we were friends, but his reiteration of it didn’t make it hurt any less.
“i don’t think it’s possible for you to be a bad friend, cal.” i let my eyes quickly flicker across his features, happy to get to memorize them this closely.
“you’d be surprised.” he muttered, taking my hands and cupping them together between his. he then brought our hands to his mouth, blowing warm air into them.
great. now i’m shivering again.
“better?” he asked, his breath still ghosting against my skin.
internally and unfortunately swooning, i nodded wordlessly. i couldn’t help but trail my eyes up the sides of his arms, the long sleeve shirt clinging to his skin. hoping he wouldn’t notice how i’d looked a little longer than what would be considered appropriate, i regretfully brought my hands out of his hands, up to the edges of the beanie covering head. after shooting him a mischievous grin, i tugged the hat down and over his eyes.
“hey!” he laughed, slipping the hat off of his head entirely, shaking his hair out.
while he likely did run his hands through his hair at a normal speed, it definitely happened in slow motion from my point of view. his eyes soon found mine again, bringing me to the halting realization that i was, yet again, staring.
“you okay?” he asked with a small smile, still standing too close for my thoughts to be entirely coherent and well formed.
“uh, yeah, yeah, i’m good.” i assured him, only delayed by a few seconds.
calum’s pov
before i could say anything else, we heard the group calling our names from down the block. both turning our heads, we watched as they approached. greetings were exchanged and soon everyone started to head in but michael signaled for me to stick behind.
“you two still pretending to just be friends?”
i rolled my eyes. “fuck off.”
“i’m just saying, it’s a little funny how we all bring wives and girlfriends and you bring her.”
“she’s my friend-“ i barely got out before he interjected.
“yeah, a friend you definitely think about naked.” he scoffed.
“i do not-“ i was interrupted again.
“don’t lie. it’s unbecoming of you. you totally think about her naked.”
“i won’t dignify that with a response, michael.”
“so it’s true.”
i scoffed, holding the door open for him, “just go inside, man.”
the last thing i would do is tell michael he was right.
spring
every sunday, if possible, we would go to the farmer’s market.
michael, upon learning this, would accuse me of making calum do ‘boyfriend activities’. what michael didn’t know was calum was the one who kept asking to go to the damn farmer’s market.
as we walked between the crowds and booths, he stayed close by, sunglasses covering his eyes and a coffee in hand.
“you know, if you’re as hungover as you look, we don’t have to be here.” i offered.
“i’m not hungover.”
“that’s the first sentence you’ve said without grimacing.”
“okay, i’m a little hungover.”
“we can go-” i started.
“i am exactly where i want to be.” he insisted, although it sounded more like a promise. “we should see if the ice cream booth you like is here.”
“you’re in the mood for ice cream right now?” i asked, in slight disbelief.
“no, but you are.”
he was right.
not long after, we sat on a nearby bench, his arm rested across the back.
i held a spoonful of my ice cream out for him. “i know you said you didn’t want any-,”
he was already leaning forward, his lips slipping around the plastic spoon. he leaned back, sunglasses still covering his now closed eyes, “you got a different flavor this time.” he noted.
“just wanted to try something new, i guess.” i shrugged. trying to keep myself from watching the way he looked in afternoon sunlight, i fed myself another spoonful.
“do you want more?” i asked stupidly, trying to distract myself to my own detriment.
or maybe i just wanted to see it again.
he hummed in response. in some wild misjudgment in aim and unfortunate misunderstanding on my behalf, he ended up with ice cream on his face. both of our jaws dropped and i watched it drip off onto his shirt.
“shit, i’m sorry.” i bit my lip trying not to laugh, bringing a napkin up to his face to try clean it off.
the pout on his face made it so i, too, was melting a little.
he lifted his sunglasses, getting a better look at me, “are you trying not to laugh-“
i shook my head, “no, not at all-“ i couldn’t even make it through the sentence before the laugh forced itself out.
“oh, you find this funny?” he asked teasingly, swiping some remaining cream off of his nose, and i could tell exactly where he was going with it. “you wanna know what i would find funny?”
“calum-“ i tried scooting away, only for him to bring his arm resting atop the bench to around my shoulders, keeping me in place. accepting defeat, i finally looked back to his face, knowing my fate had been sealed. his finger slid down my nose, the cream now melting down my face.
he chewed off a smile, seemingly happy with his actions. i sat there, unmoving for a moment. “is this good for you? does this make you happy?”
he nodded, a smile now wide across his face as he took in his work. “i’m quite happy, yeah.” he leaned in closer, using his thumb to swipe it back off of my nose and into a napkin. “i’m sorry. i couldn’t resist myself.”
i couldn’t help but smile, using another napkin to clean up any remaining liquid. “it’s okay. i deserved that-i got some on your shirt, you love this shirt.”
“it’ll wash out, no problem.” his arm was still wrapped around me as i wiped off his neck and dabbing at his shirt.
“don’t you have a thing after this? like, a meeting or something?”
he shrugged, “i have an extra shirt in my car, i’ll just change when we get back.”
i nodded, “oh, okay.” i let myself lean into his side. “should we go?”
“can we just sit like this for a bit?” he asked softly, his arm relaxing around me.
“of course.”
summer
calum’s pov
my friend, the woman i was decidedly pining for, had stepped away to the bathroom. in that brief time she was gone, another woman approached me.
based on the sad smile the woman gave me at my unfortunate attempt at trying to maintain conversation with her, she could definitely tell my heart wasn’t in it. i’d spent most of the conversation looking around for someone else.
i apologized as we parted ways and michael soon after approached, a wicked grin on his face. “in your defense, i told rachel flirting with you was a lost cause.”
“who’s rachel?” i asked half-heartedly.
“the lady you were just talking to-“ he explained, “she had even less of a chance than i thought.”
“maybe it could be good for me, trying to be interested in someone else.”
“maybe you’re a fucking idiot.”
at the sound of her laugh, it was like an instinct of mine kicked in and i found myself looking across the pool to find her.
“you’ve got to be kidding me.” i was distracted for less than five minutes and some other guy had immediately swooped in to occupy her attention.
it wasn’t like i intentionally played interference to keep men away from her. not regularly, at least. mostly just guys i thought might actually have a chance with her. there weren’t a lot of those so the workload was pretty light.
maybe it was intentional.
there she was, laughing at some joke she probably didn’t even find funny.
“am i witnessing a spiral?“
“i am not spiraling”
“i don’t know, you’re exhibiting swirly slide behavior-where are you going?”
“mind your fucking beeswax, michael.”
your pov
i was being told an entirely too funny story about this man and his husband somehow ending up on a float in a parade they didn’t even plan on attending. it was a decent way to distract from myself from the conversation happening between calum and another woman on the other side of the pool.
“he’s an agent of chaos, for sure.” he ended his story with a fond laugh. “i saw you with that cute guy across the way. you two look like you have a lot of fun together-”
“oh, we’re just friends.” i corrected, feeling warmth spread to my face.
“does he know that?” he teased, looking to my left. “speak of the devil!”
i turned my head to see calum approaching.
oh boy.
being near him was already becoming increasingly unbearable. however, my apparent state of masochism knew no bounds. there i was, at a pool party he invited me to, avoiding him because he was entirely too shirtless and the sun was reflecting off of him a little too nicely. sue me.
he finally made it to my side with a frown, appearing to be eyeing the man across from me carefully. “i thought you were going to the bathroom.”
“i was-i just-” i started.
“i was just boring her with a story about my husband. i’m patrick, by the way.” he held his hand out to calum, who visibly relaxed at patrick’s explanation. as to which part relaxed him, i wasn’t sure.
they shook hands, patrick soon falling into another story. i could have been listening. really, i could’ve, but calum’s arms were crossed. the sun was setting and the man looked like he was glowing. and i felt like i was dying.
i had to get out of there and quick. “hey, i’m actually going to go pee-i’ll be right back.” i briefly rested my hand on his bicep before i excused myself. massive bicep and even bigger mistake.
calum’s pov
as soon as she was out of earshot, patrick looked over my shoulder before looking back to me. “so how long have you two been dancing around this?”
i scoffed halfheartedly. “around what?”
“you came over here ready to play boyfriend until you found out i wasn’t interested in her. your shoulders literally dropped.” patrick laughed. “as entertaining as it is to watch, you really should get it together. you’re putting your girl through the ringer today.”
despite my heart leaping lamely at the thought of him calling her ‘my girl’, my face twisted in confusion. “what do you mean?”
“she couldn’t get out of here quick enough. my money’s on your whole-” he gestured over my body, “thing you have going on here.”
“i don’t think i understand. really, there isn’t anything going on-”
“i’m sure you’ll figure it out. both of you.” patrick shot me a wink before walking away.
fall
music was streaming loudly through the space, surely from a playlist with the word “spooky” in the title.
halloween was usually a great excuse to put on a cute costume and catch a little buzz. i had been looking forward to the chance to be someone else for the night and liquor providing ample excuse to my wandering thoughts about calum.
ash: you gotta come to the backyard. cal’s buzzed it’s your turn to babysit
me: it’s my turn??
me: i’m also buzzed i’m not sure how well i can babysit
ash: if he asks me where you are one more time i’m gonna tell him the real reason you’re avoiding him
me: i’m on my way
ash: i thought so
ash: seriously though, you should tell him. i think you’d like his answer
me: bite me.
ash: :)
i made my way out to the backyard, finally finding them sitting on two chairs near the pool. swapping out with ashton, i sat in his place next to calum. ashton was soon off to wherever he planned on going.
he greeted me with a wide smile. “where have you been? almost feels like you’ve been avoiding me.” his dopey grin nearly turned to a frown. nearly.
i let out a short laugh, still under the impression i could deny it. “i am not avoiding you. i just ran into some friends-”
he snorted out in response, “not just tonight. don’t you like being around me anymore?” he teased.
“of course, i like being around you-”
he turned his whole body to face me, “in the spirit of halloween, i’m gonna say something scary.”
“let me guess, you’ve been pretending this entire time and you really love ‘don’t stop’.”
“you’re funny.” he feigned annoyance, “please take me seriously.”
“you’re dressed like a cowboy-“
“and you’re dressed like a princess-“ he interjected.
“i can’t take you seriously when you’re wearing a cowboy hat.”
“you’re wearing a tiara and i’m taking you seriously.” he argued.
“i’m not asking you to take me seriously.” i joked, chewing my lip a little.
his gaze stayed trained on my face, “no, but i still do. hold on, you’ve got an eyelash-” he leaned forward in his seat, face in close proximity to mine as his thumb brushed across my cheek. he leaned back a bit, face still near mine. “you have to make a wish with it.”
my face was warm with embarrassment and my state of being flustered had to be clear as day, even in the dim lighting. “i don’t have to do anything-why don’t you wish with it?”
he didn’t budge, “not my eyelash, not my wish. come on, do it for me?”
unfortunately, those were the magic words.
my eyes shot from his, to the eyelash, to his lips, back to the eyelash, then back to his eyes. “fine.” i thought about it for a moment before blowing it off of the tip of his finger. i looked back to him. “happy?”
that soft smile was back when he asked, “what’d you wish for?”
“i can’t tell you.” i feigned disbelief, “don’t you want my wish to come true?”
he hummed in response, “depends what the wish was.” he scanned my face, “you know, you’ve got glitter all over your face.”
“i wanted to be sparkly.” i informed him.
“mission accomplished. you are a very, very sparkly princess.” he nodded approvingly as the soft words left his mouth. that sweet, yet mischievous, smile of his was finding it’s way back.
it felt like we were entering that dangerous territory we regularly approached together when we heard ashton laugh loudly as he came up to us again. naturally, we jumped apart, fully in our own seats.
looking up from his phone, the grin on his face dropped upon seeing the simultaneous shock and embarrassment on our faces.
“this is getting ridiculous. you two need to sort this shit out. you like her, you like him,” he pointed at us both respectively. “you’re out of your minds if you think nobody has noticed. honestly, you’re out of your minds for not noticing yourselves!” he huffed out as he walked away, “sort it the hell out.”
calum and i sat in silence for a moment before looking at each other, not sure how to proceed. suddenly, we were both laughing uncontrollably.
wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, he spoke out, humor still evident in his voice, “well, this is a little embarrassing.”
“just a little.” i agreed.
“i was just about to get to it, too. very poor timing overall.” he admitted, chewing the inside of his cheek before glancing over to me.
“were you?” he looked at me confusedly, “about to get to it?” i clarified.
“yeah, but you interrupted me-“
i objected, “i did not-“
“yes, you did! with the ‘don’t stop’ joke and the eyelash-“
“you distracted yourself with the eyelash, calum.”
“maybe i find everything about you distracting.” he mused, “not my fault.”
i hummed softly, “sounds like a skill issue.” i teased.
“skill issue?” he guffawed. “maybe i’m not as into you as ashton makes me out to be.” he joked halfheartedly.
“no, i think you are.” i said assuredly. “at least, i really hope you are.”
he chewed his lip for a moment, “i am. maybe even more than he made it seem.”
“even more?” i feigned surprise.
“more than you know, honestly.” he said, the words sounding more like a promise than anything else.
winter
the coffee shop was buzzing with chatter and sounds of the espresso machine.
“i think i liked it better before you both got together.” ashton muttered in feigned annoyance before sipping from his to-go cup.
“you’re the one who initiated it, ash. i’m not sure you get to be irritated with the result.” i pointed, watching across the room as calum ordered our drinks at the counter.
“i wasn’t thinking long term. now, i don’t have anyone to kiss when i happen across mistletoe.” he frowned.
“how often do you ‘happen across’ mistletoe?” my face twisted in confusion.
“more than you’d think. i run into it a lot.” he explained with a shrug.
“if it helps, i’m sure calum wouldn't mind kissing you to help with any mistletoe run-ins.”
“it’s not the same.” he pouted. “his heart won’t be in it.”
calum approached us with two to-go cups in hand. “someone’s heart won’t be in something?” he asked, handing me one of the cups and pulling me into his side.
“don’t say a word-“ ashton started carefully.
“ashton is upset because he thinks you aren’t willing to be his mistletoe kiss anymore.” i said simply, taking a sip of the warm drink, ignoring the betrayal and bewilderment on ashton’s face.
calum looked disappointed before he spoke, “i’m offended you think i’d go back on my word. you’ve got a mistletoe kiss for life, bro.”
he seemed hesitant to respond, “even though you guys are together now?”
we both nodded easily.
“it’s not gonna get weird and i won’t get to be part of things anymore?” he questioned.
we shook our heads to reassure him.
“okay, i feel much better.” he let out a sigh of relief before setting his cup down on the table nearby, “i’m gonna use the bathroom before we go.” he excused himself.
we watched him walk away, my eyes snapping to calum’s as soon as ashton was out of earshot. “he can not find out looking this was supposed to be a date.”
“absolutely not.” calum agreed. as i watched him take a sip of his drink, the beanie covering his hair lifted off of his head a bit. i reached up and softly pulled it back down into place, smiling to myself. “better?” he asked.
“better.” i nodded.
he leaned down, pressing a quick peck to my lips. my eyes fluttered shut on instinct and opened again when i felt his lips press against the tip of my nose.
“what was that for?” i questioned softly.
“partially just in case i’m too busy with mistletoe-fueled kisses with ashton later on,” he joked, “but mostly because you look really pretty and that’s my favorite way to let you know.”
i felt my heart swell at the sweet words, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time he'd have that effect on me.
Summary: when a ridiculously sized water bottle hits you in the back of the head during your first week of college lectures. you never expected the culprit to become your best friend, his roommates to become brothers, and a crowded table to feel like home. everyone knew that what you and garrett had was something special. well, everyone except the both of you.
Warnings: best friends to lovers trope. no mention of y/n, but the nickname Missy is used a lot to refer to the reader. found family. seriously, so much fluff. one kiss. two rather stupid idiots in love.
a/n: i’ve risen and written this as a comeback fic. admittedly, i wrote this in a span of three days, and you can tell when i was hungry while writing it. or the fact cherry coke is my favorite. also my inspiration for the nickname came from an off campus interview where i heard stephen say missy. (let me know your thoughts on this! i would love to hear them:)
Word count: 6.9k
masterlist
Music blared as you walked into the Boys’ house, which was home to Dean Di Laurentis, John Tucker, John Logan, and Garrett Graham. A blur of drunken college students and bodies pushed together in random small spaces that they thought fit for privacy passed by as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink.
You checked in the fridge, knowing there would be a stock of mini cherry Coke cans waiting for you. A grin grew on your face as you reached for one.
“Missy!” you heard someone call from behind. You grabbed a can and turned away from the fridge to the sound of the voice. “Missy, Missy, we were wondering when you were stopping by,” Dean tutted as Beau and Logan were beside him with smugness written across their faces.
“As if I would miss seeing drunk Tucker and Logan,” you joked as you walked towards them. “Maybe we can convince Tucker to make ricotta tortellini for dinner tomorrow. You know he’ll feel bad if he agrees tonight and doesn’t go through with it.”
“I’m picking up what you’re putting down, and I will go find Tucker to give him another beer.” Logan saluted you as he went to grab a new beer and locate Tucker.
“Am I invited to this dinner tomorrow?” Beau quipped to Dean.
“I don’t know, man. Are you?” Dean teased. “Missy, here is the woman of the house. You’ll have to ask her,” Dean jutted his thumb in your direction.
Beau turned to face you and pouted as he asked, “May I please come over for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Excuse me, I do not live here,” you mocked in defense. “But, yes, you are invited to family dinner.”
"Don't even start with that," Dean waved you off.
“Family dinner?” Beau questioned you and Dean.
Dean let out a laugh, “Yeah, Tucker and Missy have been alternating in cooking on Sundays, and now it’s family dinner,” as if that explained why you and the boys considered it family dinner.
“Garrett invited me over to dinner at the beginning of sophomore year, and Tucker was cooking tortellini. We were all hanging out afterward, and I told them how I would cook more if I wasn’t in the dorms. I hated cooking in the dorms because the smell lingered way too long,” you started. “Anyways, he cooked dinner that night, and the next weekend I cooked, so it just kind of became a cycle. A routine.”
“Why haven’t I been invited to family dinners until now?” Beau raised a brow at Dean. “I would’ve brought something!”
You let out a giggle at his dramatics. “Yeah! Why didn’t you invite Beau?” you goaded.
“Not you too, Missy,” Dean groaned into his drink. The red solo cup is blocking the view of his face.
Allie approached you guys and poked at Dean’s side, causing him to choke on his drink. You and Beau try not to laugh, but the second you look at each other, the laughter spills out. “What are you guys going on about?”
“Family dinner,” Dean answered her.
“Is Tucker cooking tomorrow or Missy?” Allie pondered for a moment. “Oh, wait! She cooked last weekend, so Tucker’s definitely cooking.”
“Missy wants to get him drunk tonight, so we can get him to agree to make tortellini tomorrow,” Dean explained the plan to Allie as he pulled her into his side. “You know he’ll feel bad if Missy asks and he doesn’t follow through with it since she made her famous dish last week per his request.”
Beau quit mid-laugh the second he comprehended that Allie had been attending these family dinners. “Am I the only one not attending these dinners?” he called out, exasperated.
“Dean should’ve invited you earlier.” Garrett slapped a hand to Dean’s shoulder as he joined you all.
“G, not cool, man.”
Garrett made his way to you with a new can of cherry Coke in hand. “For the lady,” he presented it to you and took the empty can. He set it down on the counter before turning back to you. “I’ve been wondering where you were, but I found you with these bozos and Allie.”
“Beau is very upset that he hasn’t been in attendance for family dinners on Sundays,” you whispered to him as he snuck an arm around your shoulder.
Your eyes were on Dean and Beau as they started going at it again, but this time Allie joined Beau’s side. Dean’s eyes flared open with joking betrayal. “Babydoll, not you too. Please.”
“You want to make rounds?” Garrett asked softly, leaning down to speak into your ear.
“Yeah, I want to check in with Tucker. Make sure Logan is getting him drunk, so we can get Tuck’s delicious ricotta tortellini.”
Garrett guided you away from the group in the kitchen. You both navigated through the living room in search of the fellow housemates. You see Tucker downing a beer and Logan immediately offering him another, which Tucker greedily took into his hands. Logan winked at you knowingly as you and Garrett approached the pair.
“How you feeling, Tucker?” Garrett asked him, amused.
“Great, G!”
“You’re cooking dinner tomorrow, right?” you questioned, trying to seem like you weren’t sure.
Tucker scratched his head and looked at Logan, who gave him a nod. “Yeah! Of course I am,” he blurted out.
You unconsciously leaned your head against Garrett’s shoulder. “Do you have anything specific in mind?” You glanced over to Logan with a slight smirk.
“Dude, you should totally make tortellini again!” Logan suggested.
Tucker immediately started shaking his head, “Absolutely not. Do you have any idea how long that takes to make?”
“But, Tuck, you know how that’s my favorite! Won’t you even think about it?” You pull away from Garrett’s side to go to Tucker with the biggest pout you managed to put out.
Tucker took one look at your face, then another at Garrett, and he folded quickly. “Yes, I will,” he sighed, knowing there was no point in saying no to you. “Only because you’re my favorite.”
You let a short cheer out and pressed a kiss to Tucker’s cheek. “You’re the best, Tuck!”
“Enough of that,” Garrett interjected you two, and he gently grabbed your hip to pull you back beside him.
“Mr. Best Friend is jealous that I’m going to steal your heart, Missy,” Tucker joked.
Logan doubled over in laughter, fully shaking with amusement, “Oh, you know that a way to a woman’s heart is food.”
“Might just take Missy right from you.” Tucker playfully reached out for you with a smirk, pinching at his cheeks.
Garrett’s grip on your hip tightened just enough for you to notice. Heat flooded your cheeks, and you felt like the room was getting hotter by the second. You should’ve been used to the jokes by now, but being Garrett Graham’s best friend since freshman year came with lots of teasing.
The day you and Garrett met was in a history lecture, and he was sitting behind you. When class ended on the last day of the first week, you were still gathering your stuff, and Garrett was getting up to head out. In a rush to grab his ginormous water bottle, he brought it up, and it hit you right in the back of the head.
The professor whose name you hadn’t quite remembered yet just dismissed class, and the usual chaos of shuffling backpacks with everyone gathering their things filled the room. You remained seated as you were putting away your notebook and trying to search for your headphones in your backpack. With your head slightly tucked down, you weren’t really too aware of your surroundings, and something had smacked into the back of your head.
Thunk.
It wasn’t hard enough to hurt badly. Just hard enough that it made you jump. You let out a surprised yelp and gently rubbed the sore spot before putting your arm back down.
“Oh shit.” You heard some mutter behind you. Garrett instinctively reached to touch the back of your head with his free hand but retracted, realizing it probably isn’t appropriate to do that to someone you’ve just met, even less so after you accidentally hit them in the head. “I’m so sorry,” he blurted out.
You turn around, and a guy is staring at you in complete horror. It was only a few seconds later when you realized that he was the new hot shot hockey player. Which from what you’ve seen on The Fifth Line, there was a bit of emphasis on the player part.
The expression on his face caught you off guard.
He genuinely looked like he thought he just committed a crime.
You shook your head, amused despite the small sting. “It’s okay! Things happen.” You laughed off, softly giving him a smile, trying to let him know you weren’t mad.
Somehow, the poor guy looked even more distressed.
“No, seriously,” he says. “Are you okay?”
You glanced at the water bottle that is ridiculously large.
Then back at him.
“Yes, totally.”
“No, seriously.”
“I am serious.”
“I just hit you with my water bottle.”
You laughed at the redundancy. “It was a light tap.”
He doesn’t seem reassured whatsoever. “I know that’s got to hurt a bit.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
He frowned.
You could practically see him trying to decide whether you’ve secretly suffered a concussion. The thought almost made you laugh again.
“Seriously,” you told him. “It’s okay.”
“Why do you have to be so nice?” he grumbled, and the look on his face made this far funnier than it should be.
“You seem to be more upset about this than I am,” you teased, watching as his shoulders slumped.
“That’s probably true,” he mumbled softly as he kept eye contact with you. There was a twinkle in his eye that you just knew was trouble.
“There he is.”
“What?”
“The normal person.” You get a laugh from that, escaping before he could stop it.
“I should probably introduce myself.” His lips quirked into a smile as he shook his head.
“Officially?”
He paused, confused, “What?”
“I know who you are, Garrett Graham.”
His expression fell blank for a split second before he quickly recovered it with a grin. “So you do.”
“People tend to know you when that’s the only name you hear people cheering at hockey games this year,” you confessed to Garrett.
“You’re very observant.”
“More like I have eyes and ears,” you grinned back at him.
He dropped his head into one hand with a slight chuckle. “Well, I apparently know much less about you than you know about me.”
“That sounds right.”
“So let me make it up to you.”
“By how exactly?” You quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Coffee,” he offered.
You pretended to think about it, but mostly because you’re curious what he would do.
“Coffee?” you repeated in question.
“I owe you.”
“You really don’t.”
“Oh, c’mon. I’m buying you coffee.”
You smiled, “Okay.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Okay?”
“Sure,” you answered again.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
He looked suspicious for a moment, like he thought there was a catch. You decided not to tell him there is one. Namely, that he still didn’t know your name. And you’re not intentionally volunteering it. You finished gathering your stuff and started to head toward the exit.
He followed right behind you.
The hallway outside is crowded with students weaving between classes. He made a quick step around you to be ahead, so he could hold the door open for you as you left the lecture hall.
Still no name. You took a short look at him, and you could tell he’d noticed.
The occasional glance he sent your way confirmed it.
You don’t say anything.
Neither does he.
The silence stretched all the way out of the building. Then a voice called out, “There you are, G!” A tall blond jogged towards you two. “Thought you vanished.”
Your water bottle assailant immediately groaned, “Unfortunately not.”
The blond glanced between you and Garrett. His gaze immediately stuck to you, and a faint smirk played at the corner of his lips. “Oh.”
“No.” Garrett immediately shut him down.
“Oh, absolutely.”
“It’s not–” Garrett was cut off, and the blond ignored him completely. You could tell that they were good friends.
“Who’s your friend?” he asked Garrett with a growing smile. A dangerous smile. Before either of you could answer, he added, “And why does she look like she knows every embarrassing thing you’ve ever done, G?”
You laughed, and Garrett pointed at you. “That’s exactly the problem.”
The blond stuck out his hand. “I’m Dean,” he introduced himself jokingly formally.
You reciprocated by shaking his hand, “Nice to meet you.”
“You too, beautiful.”
You playfully rolled your eyes and decided that it was time to put the poor guy out of his misery. You tell Dean your name while purposely trying to keep your attention on him rather than Garrett.
Dean repeated your name out loud. “Nice.”
From the corner of your eye, you caught Garrett repeating your name quietly to himself like he was trying to memorize it.
Cute. You thought to yourself.
Then Dean glanced between the two of you again, “So what happened with Missy here?”
You blinked at the nickname. “Missy?”
Garrett groaned again, and you were ignored by the two. “No.”
Dean pointed at him knowingly, “You did something! Because when I walked up, you looked like you’d spent the last ten minutes apologizing.”
“He basically has,” you snorted.
“Exactly,” Dean grinned. “So I figured he’d messed something up.”
“Maybe not messed anything up but a first impression,” you pretended to ponder as you rubbed the back of your head, hoping that it would mess with Garrett. You hid your laugh when you saw that he noticed your little joke.
Garrett looked ready to walk directly into traffic just to distance himself from the embarrassment from you and Dean.
You laughed, and when you glanced back over to Garrett, you caught a look on his face. A wide grin. The one that says he’s just had an idea. Probably a terrible one while you guys were at it.
You narrowed your eyes at him, “What now?”
“What?” he tried to play it off.
“You have that look.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do,” you insisted.
Dean stopped mid-walk as he burst out laughing, “Oh shit, G. She’s already figured you out.”
That’s when Garrett said, “Nothing, Missy.” You stopped walking. He kept going.
Dean nearly choked.
“Don’t.” You shook your head at him, but you were talking to Garrett.
“Don’t what?” he responded.
“That.”
“What?”
“Missy.” Garrett’s smile turned innocent. Entirely too innocent. “You literally just learned my name,” you told him.
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And that’s not it,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing.
Dean was at the point of laughing so hard that he was barely breathing.
Garrett just shrugged.
You should probably have been annoyed. Instead, despite yourself, you fought a smile. Because somehow the nickname sounded ridiculous enough to work. Then, judging by the look on Garrett’s face, there was no chance he was going to let it go.
“Coffee,” you said, shaking your head.
“Coffee,” he agreed.
Somehow, before you’ve even made it to the coffee shop, the nickname Missy is already stuck.
By the time that Garrett invited you to hang out with his friends in his line, the two of you had long since become inseparable.
At some point, coffee turned into study sessions.
Study sessions turned into lunch, which led to spending entire afternoons together.
Somewhere along the way, the nickname still followed you.
No matter how many times you complain. No matter how many times you reminded Garrett, you did have an actual name.
To Garrett (plus Dean), you would always be Missy,
Which is why you weren’t surprised when he texted you one Friday afternoon midway through the semester.
You rolled your eyes as you read his last text and scanned around your room to search for this man’s colossal bottle. How did he forget it? Beats you.
Bingo.
You found the bottle and headed out to finally make introductions to Garrett’s friends. Who has been bugging Garrett the moment they found out he was hanging out with a girl and not hooking up with her.
The house itself is exactly what you would have expected when four college freshmen are given a place together. It’s not particularly messy, but it felt lived in.
The kind of place where people actually spend time together and enjoy each other’s company instead of disappearing into separate rooms 24/7.
The front door barely closed behind you before Dean appeared.
“There she is!”
You pointed at him, “You’re responsible for the nickname.”
“And proud of it,” he cheesed, that kind smile that is always so infectious that you felt your own lips curling.
Garrett appeared behind him. “You absolutely should not be.”
“She still answers it.”
You hated that he was right.
The grin he gave you says he knows it too.
A few moments later, you’re introduced to the remaining roommates. John and John, or better known as Tucker and Logan.
The pair bombarded you with questions, and within five minutes, they somehow learned your major, favorite coffee order, and your favorite drink.
“You seem normal enough,” Logan deemed as a proclamation as you guys talked in the living room.
“Excuse me?”
“I expected worse,” he shrugged.
You looked at Garrett and asked the other boys, “What exactly has he been saying about me?”
Each of the boys quipped a response.
“A lot.”
“Enough.”
“Some would say too much.”
“I hate all of you,” Garrett muttered under his breath.
“You’ll fit right in,” Logan finished.
By the end of the night, you all were sprawled across the living room arguing over movies and laughing so hard at shared stories that your stomachs started to hurt.
You sat on one side of the couch with Garrett. You were leaning against him while you were talking to Tucker and Logan about the best Batman movie. Garrett was talking to Dean about some girl Dean saw working at Malone’s. Garrett had his arm loosely wrapped around your waist, and his hand was messing with the hem of your shirt.
At some point, you realized something.
You didn’t feel like a guest.
It was almost like you’d always been there.
And judging by the way nobody bothered treating you differently, the guys seemed to feel the same way too.
It was the start of sophomore year, and your presence in the Boys’ house was now such a regular occurrence that you had a drawer in Garrett’s room, a toothbrush next to his, and under the sink, he had a bottle of your perfume.
When you’d pointed it out the first time, he’d shrugged. “You forget stuff.”
“I won't forget perfume.”
“You might.”
“I won’t.”
“Baby, it’s there just in case.”
He claimed that he just wanted you to be comfortable and feel at home, but you knew one of the real reasons was that he was obsessed with seeing your stuff in his room.
You thought that people would get better about your and Garrett’s friendship, but it seemed that people could never fathom the fact that Garrett Graham had a girl best friend.
Frankly, sometimes you couldn’t believe it yourself.
As much as the rest of the boys in the line teased you, they were fiercely protective of you and defended you against any rumors that people tried to start. It is endearing how much you and the boys treated each other like family.
Something you would never admit out loud is the fact you knew that you and Garrett crossed the boundary of best friends a long time ago. Sure, you were attracted to him and cared for him like no other, but his constant saying that he doesn’t have time for a girlfriend really messed with your head.
You loved him. There was no doubt about it. You tried putting yourself out there and dating, but a lot of the time, guys weren’t interested when they found out your best friend was Garrett Graham.
It didn’t help that Garrett’s love language is physical touch. He constantly found ways to be close and touch you, whether it was an arm around your shoulder, holding your hand in his lap under the table when you and the boys hung out at Malone’s, or a hand that always found your back or hip when you guys navigated through crowds.
Even with that, there were the puck bunnies to consider, the numerous girls who seemed to gravitate to Garrett the second he flashed that damned smile. But they wouldn’t be able to say they knew him. They didn’t know his favorite band, what major he’s pursuing, how he liked his coffee, or what his mother’s name was. But you did. Of course, you knew him like the back of your hand.
“Missy, do you know where my–” Garrett’s voice from the bathroom snapped you out of your thoughts.
You responded before he even finished his sentence: “Bub, your phone is still charging by the bed.”
You were sitting by the window, and the book you were reading had long been forgotten in your hands. You set it aside near a couple of other books you kept there.
Garrett walked out of the bathroom with his hair still damp from the shower he had just taken, and a towel wrapped around his waist. You hadn’t looked over to him yet as you were folding a blanket that you kept by the window. He watched you with a soft gaze, and a smile budded on his lips.
He went over to the bed and tapped on his phone to check the time. His wallpaper flashed at him. It was a photo of you in the kitchen blowing out your birthday cake candles when he and the boys surprised you with a mini celebration last semester.
“Hey, we should probably head down soon. I think Tuck is done cooking dinner,” he suggested. “Let me put something on, and we can go.” He went to his closet to grab some clothes.
You nodded at him and grabbed your phone. “I’m going to head down now to see if he needs any help.” You pressed a kiss on his jawline when you headed out of the room.
You wandered down to the kitchen. “It smells like a restaurant in here.”
“Of course, with Tuck cooking,” Dean said as he carried a case of beers to the fridge.
“I’m making tortellini,” Tucker called out on the stove.
Your eyes scanned the room and saw several pots going at once and the counters covered with ingredients. It almost looked suspiciously professional.
“You need any help with anything, Tuck? I’m all yours.”
“Don’t let G hear you say that.” Logan chuckled as he walked into the kitchen, holding something behind his back.
“Whatcha got, Logan?”
“You know we’d never forget about you.” Logan brought his arm around to his front, revealing a case of mini cherry cokes.
“You guys are the best.” You buttered them up with a cheesy smile.
He took one from the case before handing it to Dean to put in the fridge. “For the lady,” he exaggeratedly presented the can to you while bowing.
“Why, thank you, kind sir.” You accepted the drink in curtsy.
“Where’s G, man? Foods ready to be served, and his ass is still in his room,” Tucker howled out as he started serving the plates.
You expected to hear a response, but you noticed the silence rather quickly. You looked up from opening your can and saw all three of the guys staring at you for a response. “Why are you guys looking at me?” You blurted.
“Well, where is he?” Dean prompted.
“Up in his room.”
“Why is he not down here with us?” Logan added.
“You guys know that I’m not his keeper, right?” you groaned exasperated.
The boys all mirrored the same look that screamed, “Are you being serious right now?”
“I’m not!” Your voice cracked at the delivery, causing the others to laugh.
“What are you all laughing about?” Garrett’s voice broke through the laughter.
Silence fell upon the room for a few short moments before Dean made a joke: “Just about Missy’s obsession with cherry cokes.” He held up another can to set on the table.
“G took you long enough, man,” Logan greeted Garrett.
“We were just about to start with you,” Tucker playfully told him.
You all crowded around the old kitchen table. Nobody bothered about matching plates or utensils. One of the chairs wobbled, and Dean had the luck of getting it for the night. You were seated next to Garrett, close enough for your knees to knock into each other and neither of you cared to move.
The meal was perfect.
You took one bite.
Then another.
Followed by another.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever had,” you praised.
Tucker laughed, “What?”
“I’m not kidding, this is heaven,” you hummed happily.
“Babe, if you think this is heaven, maybe I can show you what real heaven feels like,” Dean dramatically winked at you knowing that it would get on Garrett’s nerves.
“Quit it,” Garrett told him but turned his attention to Tucker, “I told you she’d love it.”
You narrowed your eyes between the pair, “You discussed this beforehand?”
“Obviously,” Garrett stated.
“You are all weird,” you declared to the room.
“And yet you’re here with us on a Sunday night,” Logan bemused.
You pointed your fork at each of the boys, “I regret befriending you all.”
“No, you don’t,” Garrett affirmed.
“No, I don’t,” you admitted with a smile creeping on your lips.
The table fell quiet for a half second. Not awkward. Just one of those moments that everyone wanted to take in and keep as a treasured memory. Everyone glanced at each other with fondness.
The moment faded when Dean threw a bread roll at Garrett.
If someone were to ask you what your favorite meal is, this would still be the answer.
Maybe not fully because of the tortellini. Which was genuinely incredible.
It was because of this. The table. The laughter. Logan arguing with Dean. Tucker pretending not to be pleased with himself that everyone kept going back for seconds (and thirds and fourths for the fellow hockey men). Garrett stealing food directly off your plate despite having an identical serving.
You felt like you always belonged there.
The tortellini just became attached to the memory. After dinner, everyone helped to clean up. Or at least claimed to. Dean somehow managed to disappear. Tucker offered moral support rather than actual labor for once in the night as he sat on the counter, keeping you guys company. You and Garrett ended up doing most of the dishes. Logan cleaned the counters quietly.
“You know I wish I cooked more,” you said to no one in particular.
Tucker glanced over. “You cook?”
“A little.”
“A little means yes.”
You shrugged, “I used to a lot when I was home, but with the dorms the smells lingered too long, and just not enough space.”
“That’s fair,” Tucker hummed.
“And cooking for one kind of sucks,” you whispered but it was loud enough for the boys to catch it.
“It does,” Garrett nodded.
“Nobody asked you, bub,” you retorted.
“I’m supporting you.”
“More like interrupting,” you kid.
Tucker laughed, you brought your gaze to him. “You should cook here.”
You blinked at him, “What?”
Dean chose that exact moment to reappear, “Absolutely.”
Logan pointed dramatically, “I second this.”
“You guys haven’t even tasted my cooking,” you cautioned them.
“We’re willing to take risks,” Garrett grinned at you.
The look made you suspicious. “Oh no.”
“What?” Garrett questioned with false innocence.
“You have an idea.”
The other three just watched the banter between you two.
“I always have ideas,” Garrett claimed.
“That’s worse,” Logan whispered to Tucker.
You looked around the kitchen. At the house. At the boys who were crowded into it. There was a familiar comfort that you don’t remember forming. And for the first time, the idea didn’t feel strange.
It felt natural.
“Okay.”
“Done.”
By the end of the night, Sunday family dinners existed.
Every Sunday.
One week Tucker cooked. The next week you did. On a rare occasion, Dean, Garrett, and Logan teamed up to cook for the night.
Nobody was allowed to skip without a legitimate emergency.
Dean attempted to argue that hungry bunnies counted as an emergency. That one earned him a slap on the back of the head from the other three.
The dinners became routine. Then tradition.
Followed by something more. People started planning their schedules around them. Sometimes new people were invited.
Bad weeks felt easier knowing when Sunday was coming.
Good weeks feel better when there are others to celebrate with.
By the end of the semester, everyone stopped pretending. Not about the dinner, but about you and Garrett. The two of you still insisted that you were strictly best friends.
Everyone else nodded along, desperately waiting for one of you to say something about it.
Because whenever someone looked around the table, the picture was always the same.
Garrett grabbed you a cherry Coke every time he reached for his one beer for the night without thinking.
You saved him a portion when he was running late.
The pair of you always sat beside one another.
Nobody said anything. Mostly because they knew that you both would deny it.
But every Sunday, around that crowded table, the rest of the house watched the two of you and thought the same thing.
That you two loved each other. That you lived better being next to each other.
“Yo! Missy, do a shot with Beau and me,” Dean shouted from the kitchen, setting out the shot cups.
Before you replied, you looked to Garrett, and as if he could read your mind. “Just spend the night. It's not like you were planning to go home anyway. Go enjoy yourself.”
“Thanks, handsome.” You pressed a quick kiss against the edge of his jaw. “What is it?” you questioned when you went over to Dean and Beau.
“A shot,” Dean answered.
“Very informative.”
You looked toward Beau, maybe the only responsible person in the house right now. He glanced up to hand you the shot. “Don’t ask me. This was all him.”
Dean’s grin was concerning. You groaned dramatically, “I feel like this is a bad idea.”
“It absolutely is,” Logan agreed.
“Not helping, Logan,” you murmured under your breath.
Dean wiggled his shot.
You turned your head to look back at Garrett. Automatically. The same way you always did. In a way, you didn’t realize you did so often, but Garrett noticed. One look and he already knew exactly what you were asking.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “You’ll be okay. I’ll take care of you, baby,” he reassured you.
“Will I?” You smelled the shot, causing your nose to scrunch up.
“Probably.”
“Probably?” He laughed at your echo as he shuffled over to you guys.
“If Dean somehow tricks you into doing more than one…” he trailed off, looking at Dean, who was setting up even more shots.
“I heard that, G,” Dean quipped at him.
“I’ll drag you upstairs before you make any life-ruining or altering decisions,” Garrett finished.
There was a certainty in it that made you smile. It was the thing that always settled something inside you. No matter the situation, you knew that Garrett would take care of you.
Not because he thought you couldn’t take care of yourself. Just because that’s what the two of you did for each other.
The same way you always made sure he wasn’t overworking himself with practices, games, studying, etc. The same way you brought him his protein shakes to practice when he forgot.
The same way you both somehow always knew when the other needed support before having to ask for it.
“You ready, Missy?” Dean winked at you.
“Yup,” you cheered with Beau and Dean. You downed the shot, and Garrett was already next to you with a chaser to help.
“One day you’re going to explain this thing between you two,” Dean pointed at you and Garrett.
“Never,” you and Garrett said simultaneously.
Logan nearly doubled over laughing.
Tucker giggled to himself, having found his way over to the kitchen a few moments before.
Dean looked personally offended.
And Garrett just looked at you with the same twinkle in his eye from the moment you first met.
The party died slowly with people filtering out in groups. The music was playing low. Empty cups and bottles accumulated on every available surface. By three in the morning, the Boys’ house was mostly quiet.
Tucker was passed out on the couch nearly an hour ago. He mumbled something about tortellini right before knocking out.
Around the same time, Logan disappeared upstairs after making sure everyone downed a water bottle and some ibuprofen.
Dean was last seen stealing leftover pizza before vanishing into his room.
You were gathering the scattered trash left around the house, with Garrett following you with a trash bag in hand. You two worked your way around the house, making sure that nobody broke anything and didn't say anything about it.
You headed upstairs when Garrett went to throw out the bag outside.
You found yourself curled into the corner of Garrett’s bed, wearing one of his hoodies that ended up living in your drawer here just for you to wear. You nursed another bottle of water. Not because you got particularly drunk. Because Garrett had handed it to you without asking before you went upstairs.
The room was dim except for his lamp. Your drawer was half-open. A pair of your socks were sticking out. Your charger is plugged into the wall.
There is so much evidence of you in this room now that it would be impossible to explain away. Not that either of you really tried to anymore.
Garrett entered the room and headed straight to grab a pair of sweats. He went over to the bathroom.
He came back out now shirtless, just in his sweats, and he threw his clothes into the hamper, which landed right on top of yours.
Garrett sat beside you on the bed. Close enough that your arms brushed against each other.
Neither of you said much for a while.
The silence wasn’t awkward. It never really was. It was one of your favorite things about him. The ability to simply coexist together.
Eventually, he glanced over, “Tired?”
“Exhausted.”
“Did you have fun tonight?”
“I always do with you.” Your body started to lean into him.
Garrett brought you into his chest. The smell of your perfume overtook his senses.
“Ready to go to bed?” he hummed into your hair.
You nodded gently and tore yourself from his grasp to look him in the eyes. Your gaze traveled from his lips to his eyes. Suddenly, neither of you was looking away.
Something shifted. Not all at once. Just enough. Enough that you felt it, and you knew he did too.
Garrett exhaled slowly. “Can I tell you something?”
The question snapped you out of your daze because Garrett sounded nervous. He never sounded like that around you, not anymore.
His laugh was quiet. A little disbelieving. Like he was debating with himself.
Then he shakes his head, “I think I’ve been trying not to say this for months, hell, since the moment you cooked dinner for all of us while we were at practice back in sophomore year.”
Your heart immediately started beating faster. “Okay.”
“I keep telling myself we’re fine just the way we are.”
You blinked, “We are fine.”
“We are,” he smiled. “That’s part of the problem.”
You stared at him, and the room felt like it was getting warmer by the second.
Garrett ran a hand through his hair. “I like you.”
“Wow.”
“What?” he quirked his brow at you.
“That sounded odd,” you giggled to yourself in disbelief.
“It didn’t,” he defended weakly.
“It definitely did.”
“It really didn’t.” he shifted closer. “I mean it.”
Your chest hurts in the best possible way. “I know you do.” He froze at your confession.
Not because he’s told you before, but because he’d shown you.
Every coffee he gave you when he knew you stayed up late studying.
Every late-night conversation in his room pretending that what you guys had was a normal friendship.
Every time he remembered something small.
Every time he made space for you in crowded places.
Every time his eyes searched for yours after he scored a winning goal.
Every time he looked at you like you were the best part of his day.
You already knew, but hearing it made it real.
“What?”
You smiled, “I know.”
His expression looked almost offended. “You were supposed to be surprised.”
“You have a bottle of my perfume under your sink.”
“In my defense–” you cut him off.
“You gave me a drawer.”
“You needed a drawer. How else were you supposed to stay over so often?” he shrugged.
“Maybe.” You reached for his hand. The movement was natural, like everything else with him. “I like you too.”
The room went still. Garrett stared back at you. “You do?”
You snickered. “Seriously?”
“I just want confirmation.”
“You have been my favorite person since the moment you almost concussed me freshman year.”
He covered his eyes with his hand. “Okay, moment ruined.” But when he uncovered his face, the smile that spread across his lips was devastating. Warm and content. Happy.
“So?”
“So what?”
You shifted closer. “What does this mean for us?” You pretended to ponder. “Hm.”
“Missy.”
“I think…” You cocked your head to the side. “This means we should probably stop pretending we’re just friends.”
Garrett laughed. A real laugh. The kind that only came out around people he felt completely comfortable with. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” you repeated.
Then he leaned forward, slowly. His hand settled against your cheek. And when he kissed you, it didn’t feel new. It felt like something you’ve been waiting for a very long time.
When you finally pull apart, both of you are smiling. A little stunned. Definitely giddy. Garrett rested his forehead against yours. “So we’re not telling them.”
You softly chuckled to yourself, “Absolutely not.”
“They’re going to be unbearable.”
“Especially Dean.”
“He’ll claim responsibility.”
“Too bad it’s thanks to your ridiculous bottle.”
He groaned, “We are keeping this to ourselves.”
“Agreed.”
The agreement lasted less than eight hours.
The next morning, the kitchen smelled like coffee and bacon.
Logan was standing at the stove.
Tucker was sitting by the counter with his head in his hands.
Dean was eating cereal directly from the box.
Nobody looked particularly awake. You shuffled into the kitchen wearing another one of Garrett’s hoodies, which wasn't unusual.
Garrett followed a minute later. Also not unusual.
Nobody paid attention.
Logan continued cooking his bacon.
Tucker still hadn’t lifted his head up yet.
Dean kept munching on the cereal.
Garrett walked directly to the coffee pot. Also normal.
He poured a cup. He added exactly the amount of cream and sugar you liked. He carried it over to you. Still normal.
“Morning, Missy.” You heard Logan call from the stove.
“Morning,” You replied.
You accepted the mug from Garrett. And without thinking or planning, you leaned up and pecked his lips. Quick. Easy.
And not normal.
The room went silent. The silence lasted exactly two seconds.
Then Dean practically launched out of his chair, “I KNEW IT!”
You immediately dropped your head. “No.”
“YES.”
“It has been like six hours.”
“I KNEW IT.”
Garrett groaned.
Dean pointed to himself, “This happened because of me.”
“It absolutely did not,” Garrett remarked.
“I brought you together.”
“You really didn’t,” you laughed.
Tucker finally lifted his head and studied you and Garrett for a moment. Then nodded, “About time.”
Garrett pointed at him, “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Tucker muttered as he dropped his head back down.
Dean looked betrayed. “That’s all you have to say?”
“What else is there to say?” Tucker’s voice was muffled.
“They’re dating!” Dean proclaimed.
“They’ve been emotionally dating for like over a year,” Logan shrugged off.
“Fair,” you mouthed to Garrett.
Logan flipped another piece of bacon, completely unfazed. “Bacon’s almost done.”
The room erupted.
Dean started shouting. Garrett was laughing. You nearly spilled your coffee when Dean came up to pick you up in a spin, barely giving you time to set down the mug. Garrett made quick work of grabbing it out of your hands. “I call being the godfather to your future children.”
Life seemed to be put back into Tucker, and Logan flipped around, pointing the tongs at Dean. “No man, that’s not how that works.”
Tucker looked more alive than ever. “My sous chef would never pick you, dude.”
Dean sat you down on the counter and immediately started arguing with the other two.
And standing next to you was Garrett. His shoulder pressed against yours while he handed your coffee back.
You realized something. Nothing felt different. Not really. The house was still home. The boys are still family.
Garrett was still your favorite person.
The only difference was that now everybody knew it, including you and Garrett.
Summary: Thea had her reasoning as to why she didn’t like hockey players. Until Calum makes her re-evaluate her opinion.
Word Count: 6.1k
And away, and away we go!
__
Thea didn’t mind the frigid air of the ice skating rink. What she did mind was the group of hockey players already on the bleachers, their gear scattered around as they laced up.
Thea hated hockey season. She hated how their brutish nature of yelling and slamming into each other was a constant cause of distraction. Hated the smell of sweat that always clung to their gear and their bodies, as if they had no idea how to operate a washing machine or a shower. And she hated their sense of entitlement. Not to the rink— no, that was rightfully theirs— but their sense of entitlement to her. As if she was there merely for their sake and desires.
Coach Anderson had always held a zero tolerance for disrespect or harassment, to the point of banning players from his team. But even the strictest of policies hadn’t been enough to deter the most determined.
She kept her face neutral of any contempt or disdain as she staked her claim at the bottom of the bleachers.
“Excuse me, miss?” one of the men called out to her. “Were you planning on using the rink?”
Thea clicked her tongue in her cheek as she looked over at the man. Dark brown curls, wild and loose framed his face, and equally dark brown eyes studied her closely. His black jersey lay slung over his broad shoulders. “No,” she smiled sweetly at him. “I just came to the ice rink with a bag of gear to sit here for three hours.”
The man laughed. “Real funny, princess. But I got the schedule from the coach right here in my bag. And I hate to break it to you, but this is our practice time for the next eight months.”
“Four months,” Thea corrected. “Your season is four months.”
“For the regular season. But we’re in training for the first two months. Then the actual season. And then playoffs which are an extra two months. And that, princess, is how to count to eight,” the man clarified.
“So I’ll be rid of you in six,” she grinned. “I shall count the days!”
The man laughed again. “Tell you what, princess. Since you’re already here, and we would hate to see you freeze waiting on us, I’ll talk to the coach, and see if we can’t work something out for today.”
“Or I can talk to the coach myself. See if I can’t work something out for today. Wouldn’t want you boys to freeze or anything.” Her voice was rich with sweet sarcasm.
The man scoffed, sweeping a large hand in the direction of the hallway that led to the offices. “Be my guest, princess. Fair warning through, Coach Anderson can be a bit of a hardass.”
“Ooo, I’d be careful how you refer to your coach,” Thea winced.
“As would I,” Coach Anderson said as he walked into view, his co and assistant coaches a step behind. “Thea, sweetheart, how are you?” he asked with a warmth that had his team looking at each other in surprise.
“I’m good,” she smiled, giving the coach a hug hello. “Although there appears to be an issue with your scheduling. You double booked yourself.”
Coach Anderson pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit. I always want to think you end at three, not start at three.”
“You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you do this on purpose as a chance to see me.”
“I don’t do it on purpose,” Coach Anderson said with a laugh. “I’ll look everything over and find a work around. As for today… Peter, let’s get set up on half the rink. We’ll let Thea use the other half.”
Peter Steele, the assistant coach nodded once before jogging off.
Coach Anderson clapped his hands together. “Alright! Thea, have you met the team?”
“Briefly,” she said, her eyes sweeping over the twelve men who sat on the bleachers, still watching the interaction between the head coach and the figure skater with both intrigue and shock.
“Thea, this is the team. First line I have Hood, Irwin, and Hemmings as my forwards. Fleming and DeLuca are the defensemen. And then Clifford’s goalie.”
Each man waved a hand in greeting, first the dark haired man whom she had spoken with, a man with light brown curls, two blondes, another brunette, and another blonde.
Coach Anderson then prattled off the names of his second line, but Thea kept her focus on Hood and the arrogance that radiated off him as he stared blankly back at her. “And I’m still working on a practice schedule for the third and fourth lines. Gentlemen, this is Thea Anderson, my daughter.”
Eleven men coughed uncomfortably. The twelfth— Hood— only widened his eyes, the only indication he gave of the news shocking him. “I apologize for the overlap of schedules and will work on getting that fixed. However, I think we’ve wasted enough time, so let’s get to it.”
Thea paid them no mind as they all headed out on the ice. As she readied herself, she let the sounds of the sticks hitting ice, the yells and grunts of the players, and the shouted commands and whistles of the coaches all fade to a nonexistent hum.
By the time her skates were laced and she made her way to the ice, her focus was solely on her own movements: each push off, jump, spin, and landing. Flawless and graceful execution. No room for error.
For the twelve hockey players and three coaches, playing with only half a rink was a challenge, given the less than ideal space. Cramped, but not impossibly so.
Hood, in a state of hypervigilance, saw how Thea pushed herself into a backwards skate with her right foot. He also saw the left defender shoot the puck, the trajectory destined to cross the figure skater’s path. Hood rushed towards it.
Thea noticed the black blur of the puck hurtling towards that red center line, saw its trajectory same as Hood, and adjusted, jumping as Hood continued to race towards her to stop the puck.
Thea completed her spin as Hood slid to a halt, his skates showering her in sparks of shaved ice, and he sent the puck flying across the rink towards his left forward. Breathless, and a little pleased he’d managed to pull that off without colliding with Thea or even crossing the center line, he shot a grin at her. “Pretty jump there, princess,” he complimented.
She scoffed at him, brushing the shards of ice off her skirt. “And I suppose I should thank you for saving me from nothing?”
“That puck would have tripped you if I hadn’t stopped it,” he pointed out.
“No it wouldn't because unlike you, I’m aware of my space.”
Hood glanced down at the red center line, the toe of his skate right along the edge on his side. “As am I,” he said smugly.
“You’re a brute,” she hissed.
“If it so pleases, Your Highness,” he grinned like the fool he was, before he sketched a bow that even Thea had to admit was rather graceful despite his size and gear.
“Hood!” Coach Anderson barked with a sharp look at both his player and his daughter.
Hood pushed himself backward, still bowing. Thea scowled at the theatrics, at the smug look on his face, as he skated away and turned his attention back on his teammates and that infernal black puck.
~~~
The following day when Thea walked into the arena, the men that made up her father’s team were already out on the ice.
She scowled as she stalked over to the bleachers and laced up. If Coach Anderson was so insistent on sharing the ice, then he could have the burden of making sure his players stayed out of her way.
“Thea, sweetheart!” her father greeted, skating towards the edge of the rink closest to her.
“I thought you fixed the schedule.”
“I did!” the man beamed. “We have…” he glanced over at the clock on the wall, “a half hour left. They’re gonna start their cool down exercises so we won’t have any pucks flying around. It was the best solution I could come up with.”
“Mmm, how thoughtful…”
“Thea…” Coach Anderson said in a low warning.
“It’s not you I have the problem with, Dad. It’s them,” she clarified with a pointed glance at the team.
“They haven’t done anything to you, have they?”
“Not them specifically.”
Coach Anderson’s jaw tightened. “I traded that entire part of the roster, and made it very clear to this team that I won’t tolerate any indication of disrespect or harassment.”
“I know. And I hope you know I appreciate the lengths you have gone through for my sake. But they view kindness as a weakness, so it’s easier if I’m a bitch from the start.”
Coach Anderson rested a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Your kindness is your greatest strength, don’t let anybody make you feel that it’s not.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Of course. Now, feel like showing these men what you’re capable of?”
“Suicides? Let them think they have a chance, at least?”
The father and daughter shared a grin, as Coach Anderson blew his whistle. “Line up!” was the barked command.
The twelve men scurried to line up along one of the goal lines waiting for the next order. They kept their focus straight ahead even as Thea joined them in the line up. “Alright, gentlemen. We had a good practice, so I’m gonna give you the opportunity to earn a little reward here. One suicide across the rink.”
The men blinked in confusion. “That’s all, Coach?” one of them asked.
“That’s all,” Coach Anderson nodded. “One suicide stands between you and an early end to practice. However, if Thea finishes before you, you all will be doing suicides until practice officially ends.”
One of the players raised their hand.
“Yes, Hood?”
“To clarify, does place matter? So as long as Thea doesn’t finish first, we win? Or does she have to finish thirteenth for us to win?”
“You’re a team, Hood. If one member finishes before Thea, you all win. That’s what? A ninety-two percent chance at success? Sounds more than fair, right?”
“Yes Coach!” was the uniform response.
“Full rink. On my mark. Ready. Set.” Coach Anderson blew the whistle.
The players were quick to fly back and forth across the ice, gaining the lead early. Thea skated towards the end of the pack, pacing herself, playing the long game.
By the center line, the players started to fall on the return, as Thea made her way to the middle of the pack, still keeping a comfortable pace.
The men ahead of her pushed themselves harder to keep their lead as they skated for the goal line.
“Dig deep!” was the encouraged shout from the coaches as they hit the goal line, and skated back across the rink.
Thea passed more of them as they reached the second blue line. And as she headed out for the last round of goal line to goal line, only Hemmings, Hood, and Irwin were ahead of her.
Despite their longer strides, Thea passed Hemmings by the center line, and then Irwin as she hit the goal line. Hood was only a few feet away, passing the blue line.
All that lay between Hood and victory was a clean shot across the rink. He had a small but decent lead, and a longer stride.
Thea lengthened her own stride, feeling the stretch in her leg muscles. By the center line she was half a step behind.
Hood grit his teeth, and put as much speed in his strides as he could, already having maxed out how far he could extend his legs between each stride.
The toes of their skate hit the final goal line at the same time.
Thea nodded at Hood, conceding graciously. She opened her mouth to extend her congratulations, but Coach Anderson spoke up first. “Good effort, but not quite good enough. Line up!”
“Coach,” Hood replied, his voice coming out as heavy as his breathing. “With all due respect, you said Thea had to finish first. She didn’t. We both did.”
Coach Anderson’s eyes darkened, ready to tear his player apart for daring to question orders.
“Dad,” Thea interjected. “He’s right. You were very clear that I had to make it to the line first. And I didn’t. So unless Hood is up for a tie-breaker, your team’s free to go.”
“What kind of tie breaker do you have in mind?” Hood asked, intrigued.
“3 laps around the rink. If we tie, you lose. If I win, you lose.”
“You got yourself a deal,” Hood agreed, offering her his hand.
She shook it, sealing the bet.
“Take your marks then,” Coach Anderson relented. “But, Hood, if Thea wins, I’m adding an extra 5 minutes for your impertinence.”
“Understood, Coach.” Then he focused those intense brown eyes on Thea. “Am I allowed to shed some gear to make the odds more even?”
“You could skate in your underwear for all I care, Hood. I could even skate backwards and blindfolded, you’re still going to lose.”
“That’s a bold statement. Hope you can back it up,” he told her as he shucked his helmet, gloves, and jersey, discarding them on the lip of the wall surrounding the rink. “And it’s Calum.”
“I didn’t ask.”
When Coach Anderson blew the whistle, Calum skated like his life depended on it. Not only did he want to prove her words wrong, he wanted to pull through for his team. Ten minutes of suicides— fifteen in Calum’s case— would be an excruciating end to practice. Then there was the scathing lecture the team would receive about their lack of discipline for failure, and the personal one-on-one reaming Calum would get afterward for his attitude.
But a victory… A victory might earn him only a stern reminder at most. And the gratitude of his team.
While Calum had more reasons to win than he could count, Thea had zero. It didn’t matter to her whether or not she won. No threat of punishment loomed over her head as she and Calum raced around the rink. Just the pride that came with putting hockey players in their place. To show that she was a force to be reckoned with in her own right.
Every part of Calum was on fire as he fought to at least keep pace with Thea as they entered the final lap. Calum raced down the straightaway letting his speed carry him through the turn, using the chance to catch his breath, determined to hit the last straightaway with everything he had. His lungs burned. Sweat trickled down his spine. Even though a tie would mean he lost, it was still better than a complete blow out.
Thea pulled ahead as they hit the last turn, and he mentally braced for the inevitable defeat. But as she came out of the turn, Thea slowed. At first Calum assumed it was so she could stop just over the line, and she had somehow misjudged the distance as he went past her, crossing first. But the soft smile she flashed his way told him that she had let him win. But what for? “Good race,” she continued to smile, offering out her hand.
He didn’t dare question her reasoning for throwing the race in his favor now. He engulfed her hand in his larger one. “Good race.”
“Alright,” Coach Anderson said, a slight edge of confusion in his tone. “Hit the showers and I’ll see you all tomorrow. Hood, hang back a second, please.”
Calum squared his shoulders. While he knew he should consider himself lucky, and was indeed grateful to Thea for saving him and his team a grueling five extra minutes of practice, he hoped whatever Coach Anderson wanted to discuss didn’t include being benched to curb Hood’s impertinence. “Yes, Coach?” he replied once the rest of the team made their swift exit towards the locker rooms. None wanted to be privy to whatever hell Coach Anderson had planned.
Even Thea had managed to make herself disappear out of immediate earshot as she started to practice a series of jumps on the other side of the rink.
“Good effort out there today.”
“T-thank you, Coach,” Calum faltered over his words. This was so far from how he imagined this conversation happening.
“But if you ever have the boldness to act disrespectful in regards to me, the other coaches, or any of our judgments again, your time on this team will be incredibly short-lived.”
“Understood, Coach,” Calum nodded.
Coach Anderson clapped the younger man on the shoulder. “And at some point I would thank Thea. Rightfully so, she’s not overly friendly toward hockey players. And she wasn’t being overly confident about being able to outskate you blindfolded and backwards. I’ve seen her do it before. So the fact that she threw both races in your favor is beyond me. Now, hit the showers and get out of here.”
“Yes, Coach. And thank you.”
Calum wasted no time in heading for the locker room, in the event Coach Anderson changed his mind.
“Why did you let them win?” Coach Anderson asked as soon as Calum had left, and Thea skated back towards her father.
She skidded to a halt in front of the coach. “Same reason you let him off easy. Kindness is our greatest strength, isn’t it?”
Coach Anderson shook his head, chuckling lightly. “That it is. But I didn’t expect you to be so quick to set aside your reservations.”
“I’m not. I’m merely giving them a clean slate to work on. And there’s a fine line between being confident and being cocky,” she began to skate around the coach in a lazy loop as she elaborated further. “They’re confident. As they should be, they have all the markings of being great players. I assume you saw as much because they’re on your team. But I also know you don’t put players on your team solely because they’re good at hockey. I don’t know your team enough to pass my own judgment on them, so I’m trusting yours. I’m willing to see in them what you see in them, until proven otherwise.”
“I wonder who you learned such wisdom from.”
“Mom,” Thea laughed, jumping into a perfect spin. “Plus, your team was at a disadvantage. You had been running them ragged for who knows how long, whereas I just got here, fully energized. A few of them might have genuinely beaten me in the first run if it had been the beginning of their practice. If I want to win, I want it to be because I’m truly better.”
“Fair enough. So you think you can manage to share a half hour with them?”
“Yeah I think that’ll be fine,” she smiled.
Coach Anderson bid his daughter farewell, and Thea returned to running through her practice routine. The team slowly filtered out of the locker room, offering her a friendly wave or a shout of thanks on their way out the door. And while she acknowledged them in return, neither her nor the players engaged in further interaction. Not until Calum finally trudged out, his bag slung over one shoulder, and his skates slung over the other.
He dropped both of them at his feet, mindful to not damage his skates. Then he leaned against the wall of the rink dividing him from her. “You let me win. Why?”
“It wasn’t a fair match. You had already had your practice. I was just beginning mine.”
“All the more reason you should have mopped the floor with us. You had the upper hand, and you don’t like us. So to give up an easy win like that…”
“If I win, I want it to be because I’m truly better. Not because you’re already fatigued. And I never said I didn’t like you guys.”
“You didn’t have to. Your attitude towards us speaks for itself.”
“Not being fond of hockey players doesn’t equate to me outright disliking them.”
“Fair enough. I wouldn’t be fond of hockey players either. I’ve heard some of us are brutes.” He flashed her a knowing grin.
“As long as you’re aware you’re a brute,” she responded airly.
Calum laughed. “Well, I prefer to earn my victories too. So any time you want that rematch…”
“I’m sure we’ll be able to find each other.”
“See ya tomorrow, princess.”
“Rest up, brute.”
~~~
The next few weeks, Thea set aside her reservations as she utilized the hockey team’s cool down exercises as her own warm up.
She learned a lot about the team in daily half hour increments. Most of them had girlfriends. They all enjoyed a drink or two, except Ashton who was sober and more than happy to play designated driver. All twelve players that made up Coach Anderson’s first and second string had almost always played together on the same team, and as a result were all really decent friends, but the bond that the first string players had was a lot stronger than the bond the second string players shared.
In return, they tried to learn what they could about their honorary thirteenth, but Thea offered them as little information as she could. Opening herself up meant dealing with their questions, or worse. From what they were able to gather, they could reasonably assume that Thea practiced daily, but only worked with her coach during competition season, and that she was closest in age to Luke.
Usually, Calum hated how much his life was on display. Hated the unfair power dynamic it created with someone knowing so much while he knew so little in return. But with Thea, he found himself enthralled by it. He knew what he needed: that she was elegance and grace incarnated, and that she was more disciplined than any one he’d ever encountered before. As far as he was concerned, everything else was a matter of details. And he was certain that details would only enhance the big picture that was Thea Anderson, and he didn’t need to be more distracted by her presence than he already was.
As training came to a close in preparation for the opening season, Coach Anderson gathered his men at the end of one of the practices. “Gentlemen. Our first game of the season is tomorrow, so we won’t have practice. However, you need to be here at five. You don’t want to know what happens if you’re late. Is that understood?”
“Yes Coach!”
“Dismissed. Thea?”
“I’ll keep an eye on the time so I don’t conflict with your game, I know,” she told him.
“Thank you, but that’s not what I want to discuss.”
“Oh?”
“The team we’re playing tomorrow… As much as you are welcome to the rink for your practice, and as much as I would enjoy having you with us for our first game… Estrada is on the other team’s roster.”
Thea paled. “Oh…”
“So I understand if you need to be elsewhere.”
“No.” Thea shook her head and drew up her body as tall as she could. “No. He took enough. I won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he took this away from me, too.”
Coach Anderson nodded once in understanding. They both knew Thea could face whatever bullshit Donovan Estrada threw her way. She’d done it once before.
~~~
The following afternoon, Thea was surprised at how off she felt as she began her practice. She chalked it up to nerves about potentially running into Donovan, but when Calum walked in fifteen minutes early, she was shocked to realize it wasn’t nerves about the game at all.
She had become used to starting her practice as they ended theirs. Used to their loud laughs coming out of the locker room, and their friendly waves goodbye. Used to their presence, Calum’s in particular. She swallowed the patheticness of it all.
He offered her a two fingered wave and a broad smile. “Hey! Glad to have the whole rink to yourself the whole time?” he asked, leaning his forearms against the wall.
“It’s so quiet,” she said, flashing him a wide grin.
Calum laughed, his head tilting back. “Aw! The princess misses the brutes!”
“Shut up,” she laughed with him, pink coloring her cheeks.
“You staying for the game?” he asked.
“Aw, the brute misses the princess, too!” she mocked. “I’m still undecided. Not the biggest fan of who you’re playing.”
“Oh yeah, some of ‘em used to play for your dad. Hmm… Damn, that’s something.”
“What?” she paused.
“Nothing,” he said with a small shake of his head. “Just wondering if it’s all connected. Must have been pretty bad if it is.”
She stiffened. “It’s none of your business, Hood.” The words came out colder and harsher than she had ever spoken to him before, even on that first meeting.
Calum raised his hands in surrender. “Not trying to make it my business. But I know it would mean a lot to the team if you could find the strength to stay. Hell, it would mean a lot to me.”
She would have teased him for that, and he knew she was about to based on how a slow smirk spread across her lips. But he was saved from the back and forth taunting as the rest of the team slowly started to trickle in. So Calum pounded his fists against the lip of the wall in two quick thuds. “Be real cool if you stayed,” he said before following his team towards the locker rooms.
Thea stayed frozen in place until Calum was out of her line of sight. She took a few deep cleansing breaths to steady her racing heart. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to give Donovan the satisfaction of thinking he had ruined her safe haven. But Calum wasn’t stupid. He knew too much. And while she had zero plans to interact with Donovan, on the off chance she did and Calum witnessed it, he would be able to put all the pieces together. She wasn’t sure which reality was worse: one where Calum knew the truth about why Coach Anderson had a brand new team and judged her for it, or pitied her for it. And if he shared any of his suspicions with the rest of the team…
She shook her head. No. She was certain that Calum had been honest when he told her he wasn’t trying to make her business his business. She had to put her trust in that. In him.
In the end she decided to stay, setting herself up right behind the players’ bench on the home team’s side. And she felt sure she had made the right choice by the excited smiles that lit up the team’s faces when they all came out. “Glad you stayed,” Calum told her, his gloved hand resting on top of hers. A brief moment of warmth that would have been over as quickly as it happened if it hadn’t been for a harsh bark of laughter.
Calum’s head whipped to the source of the sound, noting how Thea’s hand stiffened under his. “Estrada,” she said coldly.
Donovan ignored her, his sneer focused full force on Calum. “I’d be careful getting close to this one. Her daddy might trade you, too.”
“You got traded because you’re as shitty a player as you are a man,” Thea spat, the tightness in her body that once was fearful panic now tightly controlled anger.
Donovan’s hands clenched into fists and Thea laughed, an eerily lifeless sound that chilled Calum down to the bone. “Oh? You’re gonna hit me again, Donny? Go ahead. Seeing as how that worked out for you so well the last time.” Her voice was low and lethal as she took a dangerous step forward, leaning up on the tips of her toes to get as close to Donovan’s face as she could. “Be more than happy to break your nose again. Straighten it back out.”
Quick as a flash, Donovan’s hand snaked around Thea’s other wrist. And the way her breath hitched in pain was the final straw in this meeting for Calum. “Let her go,” he said with a steady calmness.
Donovan turned his attention back to Calum, hand still gripping Thea, a terribly cruel smile on his lips. “And what are you? My replacement? The princess’s bodyguard?”
“Nah, mate,” Calum replied, his tone almost bored. “Thea doesn’t need a bodyguard for one thing. And for another, I don’t play anybody’s replacement, especially not some shitty excuse for a man like yourself.”
Donovan dropped Thea’s wrist as more players from both teams started coming out of the locker rooms.
Thea watched the silent stand off between the men. Donovan’s face was twisted in a sneer, barely containing the rage radiating off him; Calum the epitome of relaxed ease, his anger tightly restrained. Two sides of the same coin. Thea cradled her wrist to her, the skin tender and red. She gave the barest shake of her head as Coach Anderson walked by, worry in his eyes.
“Count your days,” Donovon hissed after Coach Anderson passed before stalking off himself.
Thea felt her knees go weak. “Whoa, steady,” Calum said, his hands flying to her waist, his hold delicate. “Are you alright?”
Thea shook her head. “No. And I wouldn’t suggest making an enemy out of him. Not for my sake.”
“What if I wanted to make him an enemy for my sake?” Calum asked, the corners of his lips pulling up in a playful smirk.
“Don’t,” she said, her voice strong. “He’s part of my past for a reason. Leave it that way.”
Calum dropped the smirk. “With all due respect, I’m not sure if I can.” And without saying another word, or entertaining another argument from her on the matter, Calum walked off to join the rest of his team.
“That one,” Coach Anderson overheard as Calum fixed his stare on Donovan. “Number 83. Find any excuse to hit him. Hard.”
Ashton snorted, “And what could he have possibly done to already royally piss you off?”
“None of your damn business,” Calum snapped. “Hit him, or I’ll hit you into him, is that understood?”
Ashton clicked his tongue in his cheek, taking note of how Calum’s eyes flickered to watch Thea settle herself behind their bench, before flickering back over to Donovan. Watching. Studying. “What did he do to her?” Ashton asked, keeping his voice low.
“I’m not sure of all the details, but there was some sort of abuse.”
Ashton cracked his knuckles.
~~~
The game was brutal, even by hockey standards. The crowd cheered and winced whenever a player was slammed into the plexiglass barrier. No one seemed to note, however, that oftentimes it was Estrada who was shoved up against the wall. No one except those involved, and Thea.
Thea couldn’t control the gasp that escaped her as the plexiglass barrier in front of her shook with the force of Donovan being slammed into it.
The referee blew his whistle, calling a penalty on Calum for boarding. Calum merely shrugged as he skated off towards the penalty box, Donovan shooting daggers at him the whole time. Thea slowly made her way through the crowd to get closer to the penalty box. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hissed at Calum.
“Playing,” he answered with that same bored tone.
She rolled her eyes. “I told you to leave him alone. You don’t know what he’s capable of doing.”
“And I told you,” Calum replied, his words coming out cold and harsh, “that I can’t let it go. And I can handle him.”
“Calum, please.”
The plea in her voice and body language irritated Calum. Thea was scared, and he hated it. “I’m sorry, Thea. I’m so sorry,” was all he said before he jumped back into the game.
“Calum!”
To his credit, Calum laid off Donovan for the remainder of the game. But Ashton and Luke picked up his slack, and Donovan still had it out for Calum.
Donovan bided his time, taking the hits from Ashton and Luke and adding it to the specific style of hell he would leash upon Calum, and when he saw his opening, he didn’t hesitate.
“Hood!” Calum heard the shouted warning moments before his head slammed into plexiglass.
Helmets clattered to the ice and a fist was on a collision course with his jaw. Calum never heard the whistle as he tackled Donovan onto the ice, both of their fists flying. If Donovan wanted a fight, he was gonna get a fight, consequences be damned. Calum didn’t care if he got thrown out of the game, if Coach Anderson benched him for the rest of the season, or if he even got blacklisted from the league entirely. All he cared about was making sure Donovan knew that there were no lengths Calum wouldn’t go through for Thea’s sake.
Calum wasn’t aware of Ashton and Luke physically dragging him away down towards the locker room, the rest of the team and the coaches following in a hurry. He wasn’t aware of anything except a blinding desire to go back out and finish his fight with Donovan. Nothing until Thea’s face appeared in his line of vision, worry making her eyebrows crease together.
“Oh, Calum,” she mused, her touch gentle as she traced the bruising on his face.
“You should see the other guy,” he tried to smirk. “And since when do you call me ‘Calum’?”
“That is your name, isn’t it?”
“You know what I mean.”
She sighed, and there was a beat of silence as the locker room emptied. “Why’d you do it?” she asked, her voice a low whisper despite them now being alone.
“It’s stupid to explain. But I feel… protective of you, in a way I don’t fully understand. I don’t know the full history between you and Estrada, and it makes no difference to me if you tell me it all, or you don’t. Well it does make a difference, but not that way, if that makes sense. Like I still would want to beat him to a pulp. I still do want to beat him to a pulp. I want to make him pay for every ounce of hurt he ever caused you because I’m not the type to stand to the side. And the way you reacted around Estrada… I know I would do anything to make sure nobody ever makes you feel that way because… because you, Thea, are… you’re…”
“I’m what?”
“You are… unexpected. In the best way possible. Every time I think I got you figured out, you find a new way to surprise me. So, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry if I overstepped, or made you feel that I don’t think you can handle your own shit.”
She pondered on his words, saw the sincerity in his face, his beautifully bloodied face. “You’re right. That was stupid to explain.”
Calum scowled as much as he could. “Gee, thanks. Pouring my heart out over here.”
“Pouring your heart out? ‘Sorry I pummeled your ex during a game where I’m supposed to be a professional, but you’re just so unexpected!” she mocked, batting her eyes at him for extra effect.
He chuckled. “I didn’t say I was sorry for fighting him. I said I was sorry if you found me defending you offensive.”
“Well I accept your apology, Calum.”
“That’s four times now you’ve actually called me by my name. You can’t tell me that’s coincidental.”
Thea shrugged “I’m unexpected, what can I say?” Then, her lips brushed lightly against Calum’s cheek. “And for what it’s worth, I care about you, too. More than I ever thought I could care about a hockey br— Sorry. Hockey player. Not brute. Matter of fact, let’s just agree that I’ll never call you a brute again, so long as you never call me a princess.”
“Deal,” Calum easily agreed, as his playful nickname for her had been tainted the moment in rolled off Donovan’s lips with such disgust. “And Thea? Provided I’m not about to walk out of here and lose my job, and uh, maybe after my face heals up, would you maybe wanna go out to dinner?”
“You owe me a rematch on that race, first. And if you win, then you can take me out.”
Guys im kinda tired of the older men x younger girlfriend trope 😭 not every fanfic with a gruff older guy has to have a young or naive coquette girlfriend 💔💔💔💔💔
I say this because I want some variety with my favorite characters 😔✌️
cw: reader uses she/her pronouns and likes Hamilton the musical. besides that, none??? fluff city, i’m talking ‘Oops! All Fluff’ (like Oops! All Berries from Cap’n Crunch lol) also, this does include a brief calum pov!
author’s note: more self-indulgent nonsense, BUT requested! (i was typing an update before anyone asked lmao) fair warning, i’m happy to do more parts but there will be angst. alas, i’m a hurt/comfort baddie to my core. thank y’all for the love, likes and reblogs!
PS i’m tagging peeps who requested a part 2 at the bottom!
i woke to the feeling of his legs twisted with mine, his hand pressed against my back and pulling my body more flushed to his. as i took a deep breath in, the smell of his skin and fabric softener immediately relieved the irritation of being woken up.
my ear rested flat against his chest, hearing the soft thudding of his heartbeat.
i listened to the rhythm closely, not intentionally trying to memorize the pattern, but knowing it’d likely stick anyways. i peeked up to find his eyes still closed.
“i know you’re awake.” i mumbled softly.
“am not.” he spoke simply. “neither are you. you’re dreaming.” i smiled at his words, wanting to believe them.
reality began to settle in as the sunlight streamed through his window and fanned across the floor. somehow, i had two days in a row without work, appointments, or commitments. every moment within those forty-eight hours was spent in a bubble with him, only leaving his house to get breakfast and for a movie night at michael and crystal’s.
as much as that amount of time together should’ve felt like enough, it really didn’t.
“i need to go home.” i admitted, drawing shapes along his torso, feeling his body tense up as i spoke. “i have to get ready for work,” i explained, softly pressing a kiss to his chest. “besides, i’ve been here for days, aren’t you getting tired of me?” i joked.
he shifted his body to face me. “not really. are you tired of me?” he ran his hand along the side of my thigh, the tips of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their trail. a small, sleepy smile pulled at his lips, pleased as he watched the effect his touch had. he smoothed over the goosebumps with his palm. he knew i wasn’t tired of him.
i shook my head as i watched his eyes meet mine again. “not in the slightest.” i assured him softly, resting my hand over his. “come on, let’s go make some coffee.” i suggested, neither of us moving.
he groaned. “why do you even have to go home first? i can take you to work from here.“
“i don’t have everything i need for work here-plus, my neighbors are probably thinking something happened to me.”
“yeah, i bet they’ve noticed the lack of midday, impromptu performances of various Hamilton songs at maximum volume-“ he started.
“that was one time and you weren’t supposed to hear it.”
“don’t get defensive, you sounded great. i would know, i heard you from the bottom of the staircase.” he bit his lip in an attempt to keep a straight face.
“you are so annoying.” i crossed my arms, my face feeling warm with mild embarrassment.
“and yet you’re still in my bed.” he said smugly, still holding back a smile.
“you are so right, let me change that.” i started to climb out of the comfortable bed, barely making it an inch away from him before i was softly pulled back into him.
“i’m just teasing you, i’m sorry. you sounded wonderful, really.” he spoke, a smile still audible in his voice.
despite the feigned annoyance on my face, i couldn’t be happier. his arms were bare, pulling me in as close as possible, and radiated warmth that rivaled that of the sun. his hair was the messiest i’d ever seen it and i couldn’t tell if it was from sleep or from my hands in it the night prior. maybe it was a combination. i watched his eyes flutter back closed as his chest rose and fell peacefully.
“you better not be falling back asleep.”
“i’m not.” he muttered, “just resting my eyes.”
“i find that really hard to believe.”
“i told you, it’s easier to fall asleep when you’re around. i can’t help it.” he gave me a squeeze.
“well, i’m going to get up and make coffee. you’re welcome to join.” i patted his bicep before forcing myself to slip out of his grasp.
calum’s pov
i watched as she slipped out of the bed, readjusting my shirt over her shoulders and walking towards the door. since i wasn’t entirely sure how i was supposed to watch her walk away without needing to follow after, i was soon out of bed.
in my kitchen, i found her facing the counter, observing as coffee brewed from the machine and into a mug. i leaned against the doorway, watching her find the utensils, sugar, and, creamer with an ease that made my brain go a little haywire.
the sound of her humming some song she’d probably tell me about later softly filled the kitchen as she stirred a spoon around the mug.
“cal,” she called for me, unaware of my presence just a few feet away. she turned her head to me and slight surprise took over her face, only for a moment before she smiled. “i made yours.”
i crossed the room, standing behind her, resting one hand on her hip, the other picking up the mug. as i took a sip, two things dawned on me at the same time; she remembered how i took my coffee and i would have to spend the rest of my day trying to hold back an incredibly stupid grin.
your pov
i couldn’t help but lean back into his touch as i sipped from my own mug.
“what time do you want me to take you home?” he asked softly, nuzzling his face into my neck.
“probably after this.” i frowned.
in response, he pressed a chaste kiss to the side of my throat, the scruff he had from not shaving tickled against my skin. he didn’t say a word.
“i know we already established that you missed me,” he nuzzled his face back and forth, sending a shiver up my spine once more. “but you should know, in case i haven't said it yet, i missed you, too. very much.”
he let out a quiet hum against my skin, giving me another soft squeeze. “you promise?” his lips muttered against my skin.
“i promise.”
“you’re not just saying that?”
“i wouldn’t dream of it.” i assured him, turning around in his arms to face him. he looked down at me like he knew something i didn’t. “what are you thinking about?”
he leaned down to press a quick kiss against my lips. “wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased.
“yes, that’s why i asked.” i let out a soft laugh, leaning up to steal another kiss from him.
“only people who don’t abandon me to engage in the system of capitalism get to know what i’m thinking.”
i feigned a scoff, “alright, keep your secrets.” i brought my hand up to run a hand through his mess of curls, admiring the softness in his face when he looked at me. “i’ll come over right after i’m done working.”
summary: they’re home from the EAS tour and you’re seeing calum for the first time since he’s been back.
cw: situationship final boss, slight angst, mild fluff, mentions of cheating in previous relationships, PG-13 at it’s worst but please MDNI (please let me know if there’s anything else that should be included!)
author’s note: i am YEARNING for 5sos fics to the point of writing my own. forgive me for how self-indulgent this is. i haven’t written for any of them since i was 16 lol
PS please also forgive the all lowercase, it’s pride month (if it’s really that bad, i can fix it and upload it again i promise)
he’d fallen asleep, head rested in my lap on ashton’s back patio. there was a party going on inside to celebrate the end of their tour.
ashton found us, my fingers running through calum’s hair with one hand and silently scrolling through social media with the other. ash approached, sitting on one of the nearby chairs.
“i knew i’d find you both out here. i’m just glad you’re both decent.” he joked, briefly gazing at the crackling fire in front of us.
“he said he wasn’t feeling super social.” i explained. “he fell asleep pretty much as soon as he put his head down.” i looked down at him with a small smile, pushing hair away from his sleeping face.
“i really don’t understand why you aren’t putting the guy out of his misery. this doesn’t seem as casual as you both make it out to be.” he spoke softly.
“well, the guy has a history of cheating. like to the point where it’s a joke amongst your fans.” i whispered back, setting my phone aside.
“maybe he’s changed?” he suggested, not entirely sure of it.
“i don’t want to take that chance. we’re having fun. if we’re just having fun, he can’t cheat. he’s free to do what he wants and so am i.”
“so this is fun? letting him sleep while the rest of the party goes on inside? that’s how you have fun together?” he joked.
“he’s tired. you guys just got back-“
“and he only agreed to come to the party because i told him you were coming.”
“no,” i frowned, “he came because you’re his best friend and asked him to come.”
“i haven’t seen the guy since he found you. how long has he been asleep anyway?”
“i don’t know, maybe 30 minutes?”
“asleep for 30 minutes at a party.” he laughed quietly, almost in disbelief. “surely he’s so tired from all of the reunion sex you’ve been-“
“nope, that’s entirely none of your business.”
“so there’s been a lot.” he teased with a definitive tone.
“i’ll have you know, tonight is the first time i’ve seen him since you got back.”
“we’ve been back for like a week.”
“yeah.” i looked down at the tufts of grown out blonde, softly combing them with my fingers.
“he was pretty much jonesing to see you.”
“i don’t know, i thought he could use some space.”
“he had, like, thousands of miles of space for months. what’s the real reason?”
i let out a sigh, “you know i don’t exactly keep tabs on him, he’s a free agent-“
“he didn’t cheat on you-“
“because he can’t. you have to be exclusive to cheat-“
“it’s exclusive to him.”
“and that’s the problem. it’s exclusive for him until it’s not.”
ashton nodded knowingly, “i get it.”
“that, you do. you’re not beating the cheating allegations either.”
he put his hands up in surrender jokingly, “fair point, fair point.”
i smiled across to him to let him know i was mostly joking before looking back down at the man laying across my lap.
“seriously, though. he wasn’t with anyone else while we were gone, just so you know.”
“noted.”
“it might also be important to note that at a party full of his friends and colleagues, he beelined to you.”
“also noted.”
“i’m just saying, you could give the guy a chance to prove you wrong.”
“i don’t want to give him an opportunity to make me mad at him.”
“not sure you’d forgive him?”
“no, i would.” i responded easily. “i can’t help myself. him, on the other hand.”
“so you don’t think he’d forgive himself?”
“you heard the songs from his album. i think while he’s busy punishing himself, i’d somehow get caught in the crossfire.”
“i see.” he nodded, looking at his best friend from across the fire. “i hadn’t thought about it that way.”
we stayed sat on the patio, chatting about things here and there quietly. calum stirred a bit, sleepily settling on his back as his eyes fluttered open.
“welcome back to the land of the conscious, cal!” ashton joked, “we missed you.”
still in his sleepy state, he glanced to ashton, then back to me, rubbing his eyes. “how long was i asleep?”
“not very long-“ i started.
“over 30 minutes.” ashton corrected.
he frowned in response, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“it’s okay,” i spoke softly. “i don’t mind.”
ashton took it upon himself to make a fake gagging sound before rising from his seat.
“i’ll see you both later. now that calum is well rested, all i ask is that you don’t do weird sex stuff in the bathroom with the good towels.”
“fuck off.” he jokingly muttered as he rose from my lap.
“can you promise me you guys won’t?” ashton asked me jokingly.
“no promises, but hey, we’ll try to keep it clean.” i joked, shrugging as i watched calum stretch out his arms.
“heathens.” he laughed before going back inside.
calum turned to me, sleep still evident on his face.
“you were pretty tired, huh?” i asked.
“yeah.” he agreed, “it’s easier to sleep when you’re around, i guess.” he said nonchalantly.
“i’m glad i could help.” i smiled softly, happier at the thought than i wanted to admit.
“do you maybe want to head back to mine?” he leaned against the back of the couch, his arm resting along the top. “party is fun and all, but i really just want to be alone with you.”
“i don’t know, i uber’d here so i don’t have any clothes or-“
“all of your stuff is still at my place from before i left. clothes, makeup remover, moisturizer, etcetera.” he said simply.
“i assumed you would’ve just tossed whatever i left behind.” i thought out loud.
“why would i do that?” he asked confusedly.
“i don’t know, in case you were having someone over and didn’t want them to see it.”
“well, i haven’t exactly had anyone over, i’ve been away for a while.” he joked, despite all attempts to feel nonchalant and cool about the whole thing, my heart sank.
“besides, you’re really the only person i have over.” he said simply, as if it didn’t recover the aforementioned sinking heart. “please come over? no funny business, i just want to spend more time with you.”
“okay.” i smiled softly.
he only smiled in response, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek before rising from the couch. i followed after him, letting his fingers intertwine with mine as he led me through the crowd of people filling ashton’s home.
once we made it through to the front door, i tugged on his hand. “don’t you want to say goodbye to the guys?”
“it’ll take forever to find them. i’ll text them later.” he shrugged, opening the door for me.
i followed him to his car, where he opened the passenger side door for me and softly closed it behind me. the drive to his place was short and quiet, aside from the music softly playing. his hand was still wrapped around mine as he drove.
once we stepped through the front door, my senses were immediately flooded. i’d seen his place before. i’d seen it countless times, but the way the space looked like somewhere he belonged never failed to amaze me. the house smelled the same as him. hell, it was even as warm as him.
he set his keys on a table near the front door as i slipped my shoes off. letting the familiarity sink in, i padded across the floor, looking around the room.
it wasn’t long until he made his way to me again, one hand settling on my hip, the other cradling my jaw. i let my hands rest on his chest, elated just to have the privilege of looking into those soft, brown eyes again.
“why am i only *just* seeing you tonight?” he asked softly, his eyes scanning my face.
“i don’t know if you noticed, but you’ve kinda been out of town-“ i joked before he interjected.
“i’ve been back for over a week.”
“i didn’t want to crowd you. wanted to let you get back into your routine.” i shrugged, looking away from those eyes i was yearning to look into. almost embarrassed, i started smoothing over the wrinkles in his shirt.
he gently lifted my chin with a smile, “i can assure you, i haven’t felt crowded. quite the opposite, actually.” i finally let my eyes flicker back to his, relief seeming to take over both of us at the eye contact.
“quite the opposite?” i questioned teasingly, “is that your way of saying you missed me?”
he rolled his eyes with a small smile before leaning down to kiss me.
finally having his lips on mine felt like fresh air when i’d been holding my breath for months. i let my fingers push through the curls at the back of his head, body fully relaxed at his touch. i subconsciously smiled when i felt his hands glide down, rediscovering territory he’d already claimed however long ago when things started between us.
i pulled away from the kiss, slightly breathless. whether said breathlessness was from the kiss or from being in his orbit again, i couldn’t tell you.
“you said no funny business.” i grinned up at him.
“there is nothing funny about the way i missed you.” he shook his head, a small smile gracing his lips, pressing his forehead to mine.
“so you did miss me.”
“yes. in other news, the sky is blue.” he spoke sarcastically, still in that sweet voice i could never hear enough of. “now, if you don’t mind, i’d like to get you undressed-“
“excuse me-“
“changed into something comfortable, and put on one of those films you like.”
“so you were serious about the ‘no funny business’ thing.” i asked.
he let out a small laugh, “you seem disappointed.”
“not disappointed,” i assured him, letting my thumb gently swiping back and forth across the side of his neck, “just surprised, is all.”
“i think there’ll be plenty of time for that later.” he spoke softly. “right now, i really just want to hold you.” his admission was delivered with slight embarrassment that, like most of his other problems, i couldn’t help but want to resolve.
5sos is awesome because they have the talent and style to be serious performers and instead they choose to do a lore powerpoint presentation during their concerts
FUCK this took so long and took so many twists and turns but i have finished lads
summary: you end up in the hospital after an accident, only to find that your emergency contact number hadn’t been updated. you are yet to find out if it’s a blessing or a curse.
word count: 8.9k
warnings: self doubt, talking down about oneself, she/her pronoun usage, swearing, breakups, angst, drinking, car accident, hospital mentions, injury mentions, mentions of weed, partying, fighting
author's note: it might be rushed at the end and there's no set timeline of events, so it might not align with the true events IRL.
i also would like to say that we support girls here! no hate toward anyone, girls support girls!
In defense of yourself, you hadn’t expected to be back in Los Angeles so soon. Nor had you anticipated an accident like this to update your contacts on your phone. It was on the back of your mind, yes, but you had intended to change your emergency contact list on your phone for events like these. It was something you’d remind yourself occasionally, only to push it off for the next day, then the next day, then forget about it altogether.
And perhaps you were too cowardly to change the list. You didn’t admit this to another soul since it had been nearly a year since the two of you broke things off. Your friends time and time again had persuaded you to put yourself back on the market, to get over the musician. But how could you? You had dedicated the best years of your life to him, nearly six of them. You thought you were going to marry the man, but life had other plans.
That being said, you still loved him. The small act of removing him off your emergency contacts list felt so final to you. Like that was the end of your sad little love story with him. Truth be told, it was the end. It was the end from the moment you broke things off with him. You were just too stubborn to admit that to yourself.
It was your doing, wasn’t it? You were the one to tell him it was over. He had just gotten back home from their tour and went to greet you with open arms. You had been wretched enough to deny him that, pulling away immediately. You ignored his eyes when you told him you were tired of your lifestyle. Of waiting on him like a dog for him to come back from tour. Of relishing that one month of being together like it was the last thing on earth, only for him to leave once again for tours or writing retreats.
And most of all, you were tired of not feeling enough for him. In the world of popular and beautiful stars, why did he stay with you? Calum never made you feel so ordinary, not on purpose, at least. You had nothing to offer him other than your love. You feared that wouldn’t be enough in the end. The more years that passed, and the closer the possibility of marriage became, you thought it would be better to let go of him first before he ended up resenting you for not choosing someone better when he had the chance.
You didn’t listen to his pleas for you to stay. Or his professions of love for you, or how his promise to leave the band entirely if it meant you staying. You felt so cruel to let someone who loved you so much go so easily. He was willing to give up his music for you, so how could you ever claim that you were second best to his music?
But that was the very thing, you were afraid. He loved you so much that he was willing to let his entire life go for you. You couldn’t let him do that to himself, to let go of his happiness. But you had enough self dignity to know that you deserved more out of life than waiting in an empty home to fill up again.
—
Calum wasn’t sure what to make of the phone call he received just a moment ago. He never thought he’d hear your name again, much less be summoned to the hospital to see you.
“Mate, why are you still here?” Ashton asked, tucking away his drumsticks. “The nurse called you a half hour ago. Aren’t you going to see her?”
“I don’t know,” Calum uttered truthfully. “It’s been so long since I last saw her. It was probably a mistake, right? Why would they call me up?”
Michael rolled his eyes from the couch where he was tuning his guitar. “Because you’re still down as her emergency contact,” he drawled sarcastically.
“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” Calum deadpanned. “I mean, why would they call me and not her parents or something? Or her new boyfriend,” he muttered under his breath.
Luke approached the group from the bathroom, running his fingers through his hair. “Easy there, tiger,” he teased, grasping Calum’s shoulders from behind. “One might assume you’re jealous.” The youngest of the group quickly dodged the bassist’s shove, laughing while doing so. “To calm your worries, no, she doesn’t have a new boy in her life. And her parents moved to the east coast three months ago so they can’t come over.”
“Well aren’t you the stalker,” Ashton snickered.
Luke shot the drummer a glare. “I’m not a stalker,” Luke defended himself. “In case you actually wanted to know, I still keep contact with y/n. At least Sierra does for the most part. Though, last time I heard she was in Boston.”
“Boston,” Calum spoke up in confusion. “What’s she in Boston for? And how did she end up here?”
Luke clicked his tongue, a knowing look on his face. “If you want to know, you can ask her yourself,” he sang in an annoying tone.
Michael set his guitar down and stood up in defense of his friend. “While that’s true,” he began. “What about..you know?”
“What about “you know?”” Ashton piped up. “There’s no harm in Calum going. She could really be hurt and need someone with her. If what Luke said is true and you’re the only nearby emergency contact, it’s better safe than sorry that you go to her.”
The boys shared a look with each other. In their heart of hearts they knew it was a bad idea to let Calum go, especially after everything that had happened. But a selfish part of them wanted their best friend back, so what harm was in that notion?
“I’ll go,” Calum finally relented. “But she’s coming with me.”
–
When Calum arrived at the hospital, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. The doctor explained it was a car accident, and although you were recovering okay you still had to be observed after minor surgery. A part of Calum’s heartstrings tugged at the thought of you alone and afraid during the accident, thinking he could have done something if you hadn’t broken things off, but he pushed that feeling down. It’s been a year; you’ve probably gotten over him and he’s started a new chapter of his life without you.
Calum followed the nurse to the recovery room where you were still unconscious. At the sight of you, he instantly lost all air in his lungs. Frozen, the bassist stood before you with a mix of emotions flooding through his face.
It was as though you were entirely different but still the same in some way. Your face, albeit bruised, looked more peaceful than Calum had seen of you. Hell, even before you broke things off you always had a furrowed brow or frown of some sort. It broke Calum’s heart to know that he was the cause of that stress.
Calum sat down beside you, instantly grasping your hand like second nature. It was just as soft as he could remember, and your nail polish was chipped and stained the skin surrounding it. Calum chuckled to himself, a tearful smile on his face. He knew your nail polish was your own doing, seeing as you had always asked him to paint your nails since he had “more precision.”
“Oh y/n,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “What the hell did you get yourself into now?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Calum jerked back to see your eyes staring back at him. “Hi, stranger,” you managed to crack a smile. “What brings you to this hospital?”
Calum choked out a laugh, his thumb grazing against the top of your hand. “Oh you know me,” he said. “Always hanging around these parts whenever I get the chance.”
“You idiot,” you snorted, shaking your head and wincing in pain.
“Easy now,” Calum reached over to cup your cheek. “The doctor said you have a mild concussion and a sprained ankle, but nothing a bit of rest can’t fix.”
Your hand met his on your face, instantly warming to his touch like nothing had changed between the two of you. “Why are you here, Hood?” you asked curiously.
“You tell me.” Calum pulled out his phone and showed his past calls list. “I got a call from the hospital saying I was your emergency contact.”
You dropped his hand and covered your face in embarrassment. If your headache wasn’t killing you, the sheer embarrassment was. “Oh my God,” you groaned. “I’m so sorry, Calum. I had meant to change it but I never got the chance and–”
“It’s alright,” Calum calmed you down. “Relax. I’m not mad or anything. If anything, this gave us a great opportunity to reconnect and catch up on things. It’s been what, a year?”
One year, three months, twenty eight days, and twelve and a half hours, the both of you thought subconsciously. But who’s counting?
The both of you were. Clearly.
“Something like that,” you lied smoothly. “How are you? How are the boys? I’ve kept contact with Crys and Sierra, but I haven’t had a chance to meet with them both. I was actually planning on shooting them a text as soon as I landed here, but obviously I haven’t had the chance.”
Calum laughed at your blunt humor. He missed that a lot about you. “I’m alright,” he replied. “The boys are great, too. They send their love, by the way. We’ve been cooped up at the studio writing and producing music, though you probably expected that from us.”
Ouch. Was that a dig toward why you broke up with him? “Naturally,” you grinned. “Do I make a special feature in this album? The trashy ex that broke up with the bassist as soon as the tour ended? You best get back to the studio, I’m sure this whole debacle has given you something to write about.”
“You are far from trashy,” Calum countered, continuing the light banter. “And I’m not going to throw your dirty laundry out like that, I have some taste, you know.”
“Oh come on,” you pressed. “That hoe called me back, gave me a heart attack,” you sang terribly, making Calum cover his ears. “Oh yeah she broke my heart, that’s not even the start-”
“Oi, quit that!” he laughed. “Leave the songwriting to me because good God that was terrible. Any more of that and you’d put me in the hospital bed next to you. And please do not call yourself a hoe. That’s worse than Luke calling Ash “daddy.””
Once your laughter had died down and you ran out of lyrics to spew, a comfortable silence filled the room. His chocolate brown eyes rested down at your joined hands.
“Thank you, by the way,” you spoke to break the silence. “For coming. You didn’t have to do that.”
“For my trashy ex?” he teased, a smirk dancing along his lips. “I’d do anything.”
God why did you break up with him? He was perfect, still is. Why does he still tug at your heartstrings and make you weak with one smile. How could you still feel this way after a whole year? Do you still love him-
“Babe, there you are! This place is a maze, I could barely understand the nurse’s directions.”
You turned your head so fast, you nearly got whiplash again. Standing before you was a beautiful girl with the most luxurious beach waves and tan that every girl dreamed of.
She bent down to kiss Calum’s cheek swiftly, making your breath hitch without you realizing. The girl smiled at you, taking your hand -that Calum instantly dropped at the sound of her voice- and squeezing it. “You must be y/n,” she concluded cheerfully. “I’m Tia, Calum’s friend.”
–
“They are so not friends,” you grumbled to your friends, days after the initial encounter.
Your friends chuckled at your gray demeanor, each of them taking sips of their coffee or bites of their breakfast. After being discharged from the hospital, the band and their significant others thought it would be perfect to catch up with you during brunch. You had agreed, eager to learn about everything you missed, especially the new couple.
“You’d be right and wrong, n/n,” Michael replied, setting his mug down. The group was significantly more relaxed to talk about the subject considering Tia needed to take a phone call and Calum insisted on accompanying her. “The way they’re friends isn’t the same as how he’s friends with us–”
“Speak for yourself, baby, Calum keeps my bed warm whenever Sierra’s out,” Luke teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Sierra rolled her eyes playfully, elbowing him in the ribs.
“And Luke keeps mine warm when they’re both gone,” Ashton chimed in without missing a beat.
Michael sent the youngest and oldest members a glare before continuing. “As I was saying,” he huffed exasperatedly. “They’re in the weird phase between friends and dating. They met a little after the tour and were friends for a while. It was Tia that made the move on Calum, like, two months ago.”
Noticing the stark difference in your facial expressions after hearing Michael’s explanation, Crystal came in to quickly finish the story. “He hasn’t confirmed or denied anything, but they have been on a few dates. He’s taking it very slowly.”
“That’s..nice to hear,” you slowly began. “But the more I hear about her, the more guilty I feel about feeling this way.” Your shoulders caved in as your friends shared a concerned look. “She seems sweet, and Calum and I are old news. It was my own decision to break things off in the first place.”
Sierra reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “Why did you break things off with him?” she asked in a quieter voice.
You couldn’t help but notice how the rest of the group leaned in to hear your answer. “You mean Calum didn’t tell you?” you inquired the boys.
“He just said it was mutual,” Ashton raised his hands up in defense. “I didn’t know you broke it off with him.”
“Why didn’t you tell us she broke up with Cal?” Luke whisper-shouted to his partner.
Sierra only shrugged her shoulders. “I thought you knew,” she responded, her hands grasping around her mug as she took a sip.
“No one knew,” you settled. “And it’s going to stay that way.”
The group let out shouts of disapproval that were instantly quieted once Calum finally returned and took a seat. “What’s the fuss about?” he asked curiously.
You shook your head, taking an overly healthy sip of your mimosa. “Oh you know,” you sighed. “Typical group shenanigans, as per usual.”
“What kind-?” he pressed before being curtly interrupted.
“Where’s Tia?” Luke cut in, saving everyone’s necks for the time being.
Calum took in a draw of breath after stealing Luke’s cup of coffee, much to the singer’s distaste. “Oh you know,” he copied you teasingly. “Manager calls, as per usual.”
“She’s been getting plenty of calls lately,” Crystal commented.
You tried to not show immense interest in the conversation. After all, you didn’t know much about Tia and the group had been too distracted to show you her Instagram profile, damn Michael and his random tangents. In the meantime, you absentmindedly twirled your straw between your thumb and forefinger as the conversation continued.
“Tia’s getting a lot of public interest, what can I say?” Calum responded. “Her videos are getting more views every day. Her manager’s been calling her nonstop since companies keep reaching out to offer brand deal after brand deal.”
Ashton let out a hopeful sigh. “Imagine having a brand deal set for life,” he pondered aloud, setting his salad fork down. “I’d adopt more goats and expand the garden.”
“Cool it, Old McDonald,” Michael snickered. “I can’t imagine the band doing brand deals. Remember One Direction and their Pepsi commercials during the Super Bowl? Louis hated them.”
The table laughed, recalling the memory. Recognizing your confusion regarding Tia’s profession, Sierra leaned in. “She’s an Instagram influencer and interior designer. She went to school for design but has branched out since. Last time I browsed her page she was doing promos for some yoga company.”
“Great, so she’s perfect,” you grumbled to yourself, quiet enough for only Ashton to hear since he was right beside you. The drummer snorted, elbowing you roughly.
Calum, thankfully deaf to your comment, nodded along to Sierra’s explanation. “She’s great,” he hummed.
Your heart clenched at his words, but a hopeful side of yourself couldn’t help but perk at his courtness. Of course, it could be just to spare your feelings to not speak much about her. But a selfish part in your mind wondered if it was because she wasn’t his missing piece, the way that you fit perfectly for him.
Stop that, you scolded yourself. Calum is no longer yours, you made sure of that. You were the selfish one who pushed him away. Why do you continue to torture him when he’s finally happy, no thanks to you. You can’t continue to pull him back, that’s why you broke up with him. And here you are, falling back into old habits.
You blinked back your tears, the tears you had so desperately fought back since the day you broke up with him. You didn’t deserve to shed these tears when you caused the problem in the first place. Instead, you sucked in a breath and maintained your rigid composure. It’s better than falling apart, which you more than desperately wanted to do at the moment.
“y/n, you alright?” Calum asked, breaking you from your trance.
You jumped slightly, lifting your head to face the group. Forcing a smile, you nodded. “Perfectly fine.”
–
You weren’t sure why you were called here. After becoming mutuals on Instagram (and thoroughly stalking her pristine profile) Tia was quick to invite you out for yoga. You weren’t too keen on attempting yoga with a certified instructor, much preferring to save face in front of the already perfect girl. However, you found her nice and sweet enough to befriend despite the heartache it caused you.
“I’m really glad you agreed to come with me today,” Tia told you honestly as you finished your session for the day.
You settled yourself onto the mat, easing yourself into a simple stretch. “I’m glad you offered,” you replied, grunting at the ache panging slightly in your ankle. You were careful not to apply extra stress on your injured foot since it was still tender to the touch at times. “I’ve been eager to relax, especially after that accident.”
“And you deserve it,” Tia reassured you, beginning her own routine. “Yoga’s good for recovery and stress, I’ve always tried to convince Cal into joining but he wasn’t the most graceful learner.”
You giggled, recalling how clumsy the bassist would be. “Yeah, I’d leave that to Ashton.”
Tia nodded in agreement. Her fingers danced down her leg as she continued to stretch. Even as jealous as you were of her, you had to admit she was graceful in everything she did (and you were sure of it with a simple browse through her Tiktoks).
The two of you stepped out of the yoga studio, mats in tow as you continued to talk about random nonsense. On the walk back to your friend’s house -you had been staying there for the time being-, you came to realize that Tia was as genuine as they come and found it very difficult to dislike her out of jealousy.
“So you know how Cal and I met,” Tia began, referencing the story of how the two met at an awards show. “How did you and Calum meet and get together?”
Your mouth went dry. She knew you and Calum were a thing in the past? “I-“ you stammered.
Tia laughed at your sudden awkwardness. “I’m not dumb, you know,” she joked. “I knew about yours and Cal’s past. He talks a lot about you, you know? More now than ever now that you’re back.”
You had to stop the butterflies forming in your stomach. “He does?” you catch yourself saying instantly.
Tia nodded, uncapping her bottle and taking a sip of water. “Oh yeah, big time,” she answered. “It’s really sweet to know that you made such a big impact on his life.”
Your cheeks began to warm at her words. “He did the same,” you responded with full honesty. Tia patted your shoulder and grinned. “To answer your question, I met Calum a little over ten years ago, once the band started getting famous. I was just a senior in high school when they moved to L.A. I interned at their studio and that’s how we formally met.”
Tia gave you an impressed nod. “You guys got history,” she mused.
You couldn’t help but smile. The memories of the past always brought a smile to your face. Dyeing Michael’s hair and staining your bathtub red, constantly buying Ash bandanas whenever you came across one you knew he’d like. Luke coming to you when he had writer’s block, and Cal crawling through your bedroom window whenever he felt homesick and wanted someone to talk to.
“We do,” you agreed.
Turning a corner down the street, Tia continued to ask you questions. “Who asked who out?” she questioned. “Three years of being friends turned partners was clearly not an overnight thing.”
“It wasn’t,” you said. “It was Calum who asked me, but it took a whole lot of convincing from the boys.” You laughed quietly to yourself, recalling how he asked you to be your girlfriend.
You heard music playing softly in the night air. You had been studying nonstop for your college finals and hadn’t seen the outside of your dorm all day. You hadn’t called the boys in a while either since they’ve been touring the world after releasing Sounds Good Feels Good. You were significantly proud of them but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss your boys. Now, hearing the soft guitar strumming from outside your window made you feel more longingful for them than ever.
Especially Calum. You had a soft spot for the bassist, everyone knew that. You spent the most time with him when you interned at the music studio. He trusted your opinion above everyone else’s, and reached out to you the most while on tour. To say you had a little crush on him would be an understatement. The boys teased you relentlessly and teased Calum much more. They always said it was a matter of time until one of you would cave in and confess to the other. But they were wrong. You’re here in a small college dorm with no air conditioning single as can be while the boy you loved was halfway across the world.
“Thinking of you,” you texted Calum with a heavy heart. “And the boys, ofc :P”
You set your phone down and attempted to go back to studying when your phone pinged again.
“You don’t have to feel so blue, n/n,” he responded. “Look outside”
You hopped out of bed and opened your window as much as the old rusty thing could go. On the campus grass were your favorite boys flashing lights from their phones at you. Calum was resting on Ashton’s shoulders, waving at you with the wild boyish smile you loved with your entire being. Michael and Luke were beside him, Michael playing the guitar and Luke grinning and filming.
Concentrating hard, you recognized the sweet melody. It was the very song you wrote with him, Beside You.
“She sleeps alone
My heart wants to come home
I wish I was, I wish I was
Beside you”
Your heart did somersaults at the presentation before you. You had always begged Calum to sing more for the album but the boy was too shy. It took some pushing but you helped him get his confidence up. Taking a cardigan, you ran out of your hall and joined the boys on the lawn, tackling each of them into a hug.
“What the hell’s wrong with you!” you shouted out with a grin. You didn’t care if your yelling woke up your peers. Your boys were here in the flesh.
“We missed our girl,” Ashton told you, giving you a strong bear hug.
“One of us more than the rest,” Luke added with a cheeky smirk.
Calum had long been off Ashton’s shoulders, awaiting your hugs he missed so much. You, on the other hand, hesitated to do so.
“Come on!” Michael playfully shoved you. “We’ve come all this way, give the boy a hug!”
Your face was on fire. The extra pairs of eyes made you embarrassed. Calum took an extra step forward, his hands bashfully in his pockets.
“Didn’t you miss me, sunshine?” he asked you, awfully shy now after his confession of love. He was nervous he put you off and that he read the signs wrong.
“I did,” you whispered back, equally shy. “But I think I want something more than a hug.”
The boys let out whoops and cheers of joy as you decided to bite the bullet, grabbing Calum by the loops of his jeans and pulling him into a kiss.
Once you had pulled away, Calum’s lips formed into a dazed smile. “Be my girl, sunshine?” he asked you softly.
You pressed your lips against his once again, though this one was much shorter. “I was always yours, Calum.”
“Why did you and him end things, y/n?” Tia asked you, bringing you out of your thoughts. You seemed to be stuck in a trance these days, always pondering over the past and what could have been.
You chewed the inside of your cheek, truly at a loss of words. What could you say? That you had been selfish and pushed him away so that he wouldn’t end up hurting you first? That you drove the knife deep into Calum, twisting it in every way shape and form out of self preservation? There was no other way to put it than that in your mind.
“Time heals but also kills,” you told her with a broken smile. “Cal and I decided to put ourselves out of our misery and end things while they were good before it got worse.” It wasn’t completely a lie. Sure, he had no say in your ending things, but you spoke the truth about putting him out of his misery.
“Do you still love him?” she asked.
You glanced over at her. Her eyes shone in the light, curious and innocent. She didn’t know the pain you both had endured that landed you in this position.
Yes, your heart cried out. You love him. You love him with your entire being, that’s why you let him go. Because you’d rather kill your soul every single day of your life than stop him from reaching his life goals. If you had to go through that awful night that you broke your own heart again, you would, just to ensure that he is happy.
Even if that meant that he would be happy with someone else.
“He’s my first love,” you told her tearfully. “Of course I love him. But I am not his love, and that is okay with me. Life goes on, and so should I.”
The two of you stopped in front of your friend’s house. Tia took your hand and squeezed it. “I really do appreciate you coming along with me today,” she said earnestly. “And I’m glad I got to hear about you and Cal’s history. It really puts things into perspective.”
You smiled back at her. “Thank you for having me,” you responded. “I hope my words haven’t changed anything between the two of you. I meant what I said; him and I are in the past. I truly want the both of us to move forward and grow in our own separate ways.”
Your butterflies in your stomach turned into fierce wasps, stinging you sharply. Lies, your heart hissed. Tell her you love him and still want him.
You forced the bile rising in your throat down. Tia, blind to your inner troubles, continued to speak. “That’s actually what I wanted to ask you,” she chuckled nervously. She grabbed your other hand, bringing them together.
“I wanted to ask Cal to be my boyfriend,” Tia confessed.
Crack. There goes your heart.
Tia seemed to notice the dip in your lips and immediately retracted. “But I don’t want to overstep or anything!” she rushed. “You and Cal have history, I’m not stupid enough to deny it. And that’s okay, that’s no one’s fault. If you still love him and want him, I’m not going to get in the way. Calum, well, it’s clear he loves you, too. I’ve heard countless amounts of stories about you to not get the memo. I really like Cal, I do. But that can’t go up against love.”
This was your chance. To right your wrongs from the past and take back what you truly wanted. Calum. You could take this moment to run to his house right now and take him back, and you’d have Tia’s full support. Zero guilt.
But why did it hurt so bad?
No. You made your bed, you have to sleep in it. It doesn’t matter if the bed was built of blades of self doubt and hate, you have to slip into the sharp sheets and let it pierce through your skin. You created your own mess. It is you alone that must deal with it. Not Calum, and surely not Tia.
You’ve made enough problems for everyone as is.
You mustered enough strength to let go of Tia’s hands and instead cup her cheeks. “Tia, honey,” you whispered calmly. “Our love is in the past. I’ve missed my chance, and I have learned to live with it. I’ve seen the way Calum looks at you, and that’s something that can blossom into something beautiful. There’s no need to dig up something that has already run its course.”
Tia’s lip trembled at your words. You nodded carefully. “You don’t need my permission or anything to date Calum. You don’t owe me anything. You both deserve to be happy, and clearly you make each other happy.”
“Are you sure?” Tia asked. “I promise you, it won’t hurt my feelings or anything if you still want him.”
“No, Tia,” you reassured her, despite the burning feeling in your chest. “Please, make him happy. Make him happier than I could ever make him. He deserves that much.”
–
Two weeks have passed since your encounter with Tia. Last thing you heard was that the two were very happy indeed, but you didn’t hear if they made it official. You had plenty of dates with the girls, but you insisted on changing the subject whenever they brought Calum up. You feared that if you heard about him one more time, you might burst into tears or do something stupid.
You finished up your work from the office in your friend’s house. Grateful to be able to work from home for the time you stayed in L.A., you had to admit that sitting on a chair from 9 to 5 made you quite sore. Eager to stretch your legs, you decided to take a walk to the local park.
However, it wasn’t any random park. It was the place you and Cal used to have endless dates when he was back from tour or the studio. You’d lay on the blanket he took from his apartment at the time and stare at the stars. Back when you both didn’t have much, you’d snack on soup crackers you took from each time you went to the diner across the street and share a can of Coke Cal took from the vending machine after work. So many secrets were shared at this park, and so many memories were made, too.
“I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who still frequents this place.”
You jumped to see the last person you expected at this place. Calum gave you a bashful smile before sitting beside you on the grass. You took in the last hour of sun beaming down your skin before the sky went dark, closing your eyes and tuning out the sound of the infamous L.A. traffic.
“How can I not?” you quipped. “This park is the only place in L.A. that isn’t stuffy or gross.”
Calum let out a laugh, quietly agreeing with you. “So what brings you here, Hood?” you asked, nudging his shoulder.
The bassist could only shrug his shoulders. “Could say the same about you,” he hummed. “Sometimes I like to sit here and write music. Other times I just sit here and listen to the ambiance.” You nodded, crossing your arms on your chest and making sure to keep a safe distance from him. His touch was mesmerizing, but you had to remind yourself that he was no longer yours.
“This place reminds me to stay grounded,” he told you truthfully. “When I get too in my head, I always go here, even after we broke up.”
You dropped your hands to the grass, braiding the blades absentmindedly. “I’m glad,” you spoke up. Calum looked over at you, awaiting an explanation. “It’s too good of a place to let go after a silly little relationship.”
“It wasn’t a silly little-” Calum fought back.
“Let’s not talk about it, Cal,” you sighed exasperatedly.
Calum instantly frowned. “Why not?” he pressed. “You never seem to want to talk about the good old days.”
“Because it wasn’t “the good old days,”” you insisted, lying through your teeth.
Calum let out a stubborn huff. “Now that’s a lie,” Calum shot back. “But whatever, I won’t push.” A pregnant silence took over the two of you as Calum tried to find something to say. “Have you found yourself a new boyfriend yet?” he decided to ask.
“Calum-” you began.
“You said not to bring up the past,” Calum argued. “This is the best I can do.”
You shook your head at his words, giving in nonetheless. “No, I don’t,” you answered.
“Are you not ready for one?” he asked.
“I-” You took a moment to find the right words. “I need to work on myself before moving forward with someone else.”
“Well, I don’t get that,” Calum commented with a snort. “You’re perfect, what could you possibly work on?”
You choked out a dry laugh, though there was no humor behind it. “Quite a bit, I’d say,” you confessed. “Calum, I was a mess, I still am. I can’t put someone through that again.”
“You didn’t put me through anything,” Calum persisted. “And now that you mention us, I can’t recall anything that you did wrong in that relationship. It was all me.”
“No Calum!” you raised your voice, standing up abruptly. He quickly followed, standing up to meet your frustrated, tired eyes. “It was me. And I’m tired of you insisting otherwise.”
“You said that I was always gone,” Calum reminded you, his voice matching the same volume as yours. “I don’t see anything that involves you in that.”
You threw your hands in the air. “Because I was needy!” you exclaimed. “And I was pushy, and I hated being alone all the time–”
“But I’m right here!” he yelled back. You took a step back in shock. He was never one to raise his voice at you, even when you fought in the past. It was your throat that got raw in those arguments from having a shouting match against yourself and losing hopelessly. “Goddammit y/n I’m right here. And I promised you that night that I would always be here if that’s what you wanted.”
Tears began to stream down your face as you pulled your hair in anger. “You don’t understand, Calum,” you cried out.
“Then help me understand!” Calum took a step closer to you, taking your hands in his. His brown eyes were desperate, searching yours for an answer. “Please, sunshine, let me in.”
For a moment, you almost faltered. You nearly gave in at his sweet words and use of that old nickname. But Tia remained in the back of your mind, and guilt sunk in once more.
You released yourself from his touch, looking away from his eyes. “You can’t call me that anymore,” you whispered to him. “I can’t, Calum. I just can’t.”
Calum watched you back away hopelessly. “y/n,” he sighed.
“I’m leaving for Boston in two days,” you told him. “I’m sure Ash told you that already, though. I overstayed my welcome at my friend’s house. I should start packing.”
The bassist followed you to the gate of the park. “But I feel like we should talk about this,” Calum pleaded.
Your fingertips grazed the gate, the cool metal sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll see you at the party, Calum.”
–
When you told the boys the date you were going back to Boston, Ashton jumped at the opportunity to throw you a goodbye party. In addition to catching up with you and spending every moment available with you, the boys insisted on planning the “biggest party of the century” for your departure.
“I still don’t see the necessity for all of this,” you told the three boys with a shake of your head.
“Trust us,” Ashton said with a wild grin. “We all need this.”
So here you were, casually sipping your cocktail in the corner of Ashton’s home while their exquisite rager took the house by storm. Sierra and Crystal stayed by your side throughout the night, insisting to keep up with each other while you were away. This time, you made sure to not end contact with them the way you did last time. Tia had also been in the group but left some time ago to deal with something.
“Are you sure you have to leave?” Luke asked, pouting dramatically. “L.A. isn’t the same without you here, n/n.”
You ruffled his hair playfully. The singer was always a little brother to you, no matter how close in age the two of you were. “I do, bub,” you said in a sorry voice. “I don’t think my boss could stand another week without me in the studio.”
“Then move back to this location!” Michael proposed, raising his glass and nearly spilling his drink on the floor. “Transferring wouldn’t be a bad idea, would it? The studio would love to have you back, producing and doing whatever else you do.”
You laughed at Michael’s drunken state. You were having a lot of fun relishing in the last few moments with your friends before leaving them once again. You almost didn’t realize the shouting that was going on in the dining room of Ashton’s home.
The entire group ran to the source of the noise to find Calum standing on the dining table with Tia pleading for him to get down.
“Calum, babe, please,” Tia shouted. “You’re causing a scene.”
All guests turned to see what was going on, especially to see why the bassist of 5 Seconds of Summer was shouting complete intelligible nonsense.
Ashton ran towards the edge of the table. “Mate, you need to get down,” he begged hurriedly. “You’re not thinking straight, you need to get down before you get hurt.”
“No,” Calum insisted, his words slurring slightly due to his inebriated state. “I need everyone to listen to me.”
Someone had managed to find the speaker and turn it off so everyone could hear Calum. Your heart was beating out of your chest, not from the alcohol buzzing through your system, but because of the drunk boy standing before you.
Calum raised his cup to the crowd. “I’d like to raise a toast to the girl who broke my heart,” he announced sloppily. “The “heartbreak girl” herself, y/n l/n.” Calum clapped loudly. He was the only one who was clapping while you stood there in shock and humiliation. “I loved you, you know?” he sniffed. “And I bloody well still do. Tia’s great, though. Absolutely nothing wrong with you, Tia, I hope you know that. But you’re not the one. y/n right here, she’s the one.”
His brown eyes, red from drinking and smoking God knows what, teared up as he looked down at you. “But what I can’t figure out is why won’t she love me?” Calum threw back the rest of his drink and winced at how strong it was. “I was getting ready to propose to you, you know?” he told you. “I had the ring in my pocket, and I was just waiting for the perfect moment.” Calum chuckled to himself bitterly. “Guess I fucked that up tremendously.”
“Calum, stop,” you pleaded.
“Why should I?” he asked you incredulously. “You didn’t stop packing your things when I asked you to. You didn’t stop running when I chased after you in the dark. You didn’t stop when you booked that flight across the country to run away from me.”
Tears were streaming down your face now. “It wasn’t like that, Cal,” you cried. “W-we broke up for a reason-”
“And that’s what I can’t wrap my head around!” he shouted. “You barely gave me a reason! You told me you never saw me anymore. I was willing to make more time for you, to end my career for you, to get down on one knee and be with you, and that wasn’t enough! There had to be another reason-”
“There wasn’t, Cal!” you sobbed. “So drop it, please.”
Silence spread throughout the whole house. No one moved an inch, too shocked to make a single sound or move. All that could be heard was the sounds of your messy sobs that you failed to keep in. Cal dropped his cup and gestured his hands at you.
“The Heartbreak Girl, everyone,” he announced with a broken sigh. “Hope you enjoyed this one hell of a show, with your heartbroken host, Calum Thomas Hood.”
You ran out of the house as fast as your feet could take you. The air was brisk in your lungs, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care when the man you loved poured his heart out to you, only for you to squash it like it was nothing.
“y/n!” you heard a voice call out for you. You whipped around to see Tia, scrambling to catch up to you. In the back, you could see the band -minus Calum- and their significant others peering out the glass door to see what was going on.
Tia grabbed your hand tightly. “y/n, fuck, I’m so sorry about Calum,” she apologized, swearing profusely. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. First we were talking about our relationship then-“
“Please, don’t bring up your relationship,” you cut her off, roughly shaking your head. “I know I gave you my blessing, but please I can’t bear to get my heart broken again.”
“You don’t understand!” Tia pushed. “We don’t have a relationship to begin with! y/n, I never asked Calum to be my boyfriend, I just couldn’t. I couldn’t interfere with a love as great as yours and his.”
You stumbled backwards. “What?”
Tia nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “y/n, you and Calum are endgame, don’t you see? I only talked to him tonight to explain that you still loved him. I guess he was too caught up in the alcohol to think rationally.”
“Tia,” you said, voice dripping in disappointment and dread. “That wasn’t your secret to tell him.”
“Were you going to say anything?” she shot back. “You weren’t, so I had to take matters into my own hands. n/n, I’m a firm believer in fate and second chances. This is your chance at making everything right-“
“But I can’t!” you cried, ripping your hand away from hers. “Don’t you get it? I’m the one that’s killing him! I put him through hell and I can’t continue to do that. Why can’t you see that I’m a fucked up mess that ruins everything I touch? I love Calum, I’ll never stop loving him, but I’m not blind enough to not see that my love is torturing him slowly.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. Tears reappeared in the corner of your eyes, but you were too tired to wipe them away. “I’m never going to be enough for Calum,” you confessed. “That’s why I broke up with him. I can’t watch him waste his life away on a girl that’s only going to disappoint him. I’m not like you, Tia. I’m not perfect, or beautiful, or smart, or anything remotely interesting. And one day, Calum is going to see that and realize he missed his opportunity to find someone good for him, someone that he deserves.
“I don’t deserve him, Tia,” you finished in a broken whisper. “I never will. So I’d rather fade into the background and be a distant memory than become a face he can’t stand to look at.”
“That’s not true,” Tia insisted, tears gracefully falling down her beautiful face. “y/n, you have to believe me when I say that’s not true.”
A car drove down the street, approaching the two of you. You let out a sigh of relief, recognizing it as your uber. “I don’t have to believe you,” you replied, opening the car door. “My word is all that I need.”
—
Calum woke up the next day with a pounding headache. He groaned aloud, sitting up on the couch and cradling his head. He wished he was drunk enough that night to forget everything that happened, but he remembered every single detail. From the beat of the bass from the stereo to the way your dress hugged your curves he loved to kiss and hold.
He finally pushed you away, he realized. And for good, this time. Calum felt dread and regret rush through his system, and all he wanted was to crawl into his bed and sleep his life away.
“You know grumbling isn’t going to cure a hangover,” Tia’s reprimanding voice rang through the living room.
Tia. Calum jumped up to face her where she had been leaning against the door frame.
“Oh Ti,” he sighed, covering his face in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry for last night, I must have humiliated you. I’m a right idiot, and I’m so sorry I put you through that.”
“Oh shut up,” Tia laughed, walking over to him and sitting him down. “I can’t say that I wasn’t hurt, but I also can’t say I was surprised with how things turned out.” Calum hung his head low, ashamed of his behavior. He never wanted to hurt either of you. “Cal, you don’t have to be so sullen. It’s okay, there’s no hard feelings or bad blood between us.”
When Calum couldn’t bring himself to respond, Tia decided to take it a step further. “I always knew you loved her,” she confessed. “That’s why I brought it up to you last night. I wanted both of you to work things out. She really does love you.”
Calum let out a bitter laugh. “She sure has a way of showing it,” he muttered. “Tia, don’t make me feel worse by feeding me lies. It hurts enough that I hurt both of you, don’t make it worse by saying that bullshit.”
“I’m telling the truth!” she fought back. “y/n still loves you, she told me that herself.”
“Then why did she break up with me?” Calum retorted. “If her love never left the table, where was it when she broke things off? Correct me if I’m wrong, Tia, but I don’t think that’s how you treat the people you supposedly love.”
Tia screwed her eyes shut, heaving out a sigh. “She loved you so much, she thought you deserved more,” Tia finally explained. “She let you go so that you could find someone better, someone who makes you happier.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Calum shook his head, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “How could she think that? No one could be better than her, um, no offense.” Tia snorted at the last part. “If anything, I thought I didn’t deserve her.”
“Well you’re both idiots,” Tia deadpanned. “You two clearly love each other more than life itself but were too blind to see you were perfect for each other.”
Calum’s shoulders caved in as he drowned in his thoughts. His hangover headache was piercing his skull but he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t process why you’d ever think so lowly of yourself when he praised the ground you walk on.
“How can I go back to her and repair things when I never realized she was hurting?” he asked. “Why would she ever want me back when I wasn’t there at her lowest? All the signs were there. She stopped calling me every night to talk about her day while I was away. She’d dodge my Facetimes with bullshit excuses that I failed to point out.” Calum huffed to himself, beating himself up critically. “What makes you think I won’t fuck up again when she needs me?”
“Because you’ve learned from your mistakes before,” Tia told him, rubbing his arm soothingly. “And you can learn from them again. That’s what I like about you, Cal. You always made an effort to better yourself, no matter the challenge. And if you truly love her, you’re going to end up fine.”
Calum smiled softly at Tia’s words, raising his chin to look her in the eyes. “I love her so much,” he whispered. The bassist took her hand, squeezing it affectionately. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with us, Ti,” he apologized genuinely. “I really do hope you find someone who is willing to lay down their life for you.”
“I’ve watched two lovers reconnect like no time has passed at all,” Tia smiled back. “Trust me, I have the groundwork laid out for what’s ahead of me.”
Suddenly, Calum’s phone began to ring. Lunging towards the arm of the couch, Calum pulled his phone off the charger and read the caller ID. Eyes wide, he looked at Tia who gave him a knowing look.
“I’ll start the car.”
–
You opened your eyes, immediately squinting at the bright light. You were met once again with the familiar feeling of a skull splitting headache and aching ankle.
“Must you always get yourself into these situations?”
You turned to face those brown eyes and cheeky smile you adored. Calum shook his head in disbelief, taking your hand in his. “I thought you said you’d change your emergency contact,” he said in a scolding tone.
Your face was on fire at his words. “I forgot,” you told him honestly.
Once again, you ended up in the hospital with similar injuries to what you received at the beginning of your trip. But instead of a car accident, you’d clumsily fallen down the stairs on the way to your Uber to the airport. Luckily a neighbor next door heard the ruckus and loaded you into the Uber straight to the hospital.
“Or it’s fate,” Calum suggested, resting his hand on the side of your head.
“Calum,” you tried to counter.
He stopped you instantly. “I know why you ended things,” he simply told you. “And I think I deserve a say in it.” Closing your mouth, you let him speak. “You’re wrong, y/n. You do deserve me as much as I deserve you. And I love you no matter what. I don’t need a famous celebrity as my partner when I have you in my life. None of that superficial stuff matters to me, y/n, you know that. And I know that for as long as I live and you forget to change your emergency contact list, I’ll always come for you.”
Your heart fluttered, and you allowed yourself to feel hope for the both of you. “But what if someday down the line you want more?” you asked in a small voice.
Calum blinked away his tears. “What more can I want?” he said in response. “You’re all I want, y/n. I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt that.”
“Don’t apologize,” you laughed, tears beginning to fall, too. “It was my stupid brain that made me doubt in the first place.”
Calum leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. “So is that it?” he asked. “Are we done doubting? Will you finally come home, y/n? Be with me forever?”
You raised your hand to cup his cheek. He instinctively leaned into your touch. “With you,” you told him surely. “I’m always home. I’m yours, Calum Hood.”
–
if you enjoyed, please like and reblog! it would mean a lot to me <3
"how are you" well i got a long term plan with short term fixes and a wasted heart that just eclipses and i push my luck from trust to dust enough. you know.
