luvsherleafs

Fee, Canadian girl, old enough to know better but whatever. The Leafs are my team, but Avs and Panthers are creeping in.

[luvsherleafs]

Fic Masterlist

It Starts With A Dare  - Boone Jenner

Breaking the Rule - Jonathan Toews

How the Rule Was Broken - Jonathan Toews (part 2 of Breaking the Rule)

Heard About a Girl - Freddie Anderson

On My Wish List - Kevin Hayes

I Got You  - Kevin Hayes

I Still Got You - Kevin Hayes

Pick an Egg - Kevin Hayes

Mistletoe Madness - Elias Lindholm

Secrets With Santa - Noah Hanifin

Things I Noticed - Nate Mackinnon

Stubborn - Duncan Keith

Come Back To Me - Eric Johnson

Patience - Nolan Patrick

Late Night Whispers - Matthew Tkachuk

Accidental First Aid (Summer Fic Exchange 2k21) - Travis Konecny

Taking the Out (Winter Fic Exchange 2k22 - Matthew Tkachuk

Careless (Summer Fic Exchange 2k22) - Tyler Seguin

A New Us (Summer Fic Exchange 2k22 #2) - Tyson Jost

The Problem With Maddie (Winter Fic Exchange 2k23) - Nathan MacKinnon

It Starts With a Cookie (Summer Fic Exchange 2k23) - Nathan MacKinnon

Leafs Girl - Matthew Tkachuk

Chapter One - The Ask

Chapter Two - The Date

Chapter Three - Missing You

Chapter Four - Christmas Magic

Chapter Five - Fan Girl

Chapter Six - Bump in the Road

Chapter Seven - All That Glitters

Chapter Eight - All Is Not What It Seems

Chapter Nine - The Name On Your Back

Chapter Ten - Decisions, Decisions

Chapter Eleven - Playing House

Chapter Twelve - A Few Conditions

Chapter Thirteen - Changes

Chapter Fourteen - Respect

Chapter Fifteen - Long Distance Again

Chapter Sixteen - Who's It Gonna Be

Chapter Seventeen - Roles Reverse

Chapter Eighteen - Calm Before The Chaos

Chapter Nineteen - I Chose You

Chapter Twenty - As One Door Closes

Chapter Twenty-One - Summer Loving

Epilogue One - Going to the Chapel

Epilogue Two - Second Christmas

Epilogue Three - First Year of Forever

Epilogue Four - Bella's First Christmas

Leafs Girl Universe - The Boys

Second Time is the Charm - Sam Bennett

[tkwrites]

Back to You - Matthew Tkachuk x Jessie (ofc)

gif from @drysaladandketchup

Title: Back To You

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Matthew Tkachuck  x Jessie (ofc)

Warnings: Swearing, lots of flirting. Slow burn. Smut at the end: fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving).

Summary: Jessie and Matthew meet at a New Years Eve party and form an instant connection. When a fire rips them apart, can fate bring them back together? 

Word Count: 12,700

Comments: This is my entry for @wyattjohnston‘s winter fic exchange written for @luvsherleafs

This is by far the longest piece I’ve written for Tumblr. I had a really clear vision of where I wanted it to go, and I eventually got it there. In the end, I’m so proud of how it turned out. I hope you enjoy, and would love to know what you think.

Many, many thanks to Mari @eyesthatroll and Bre @fallinallincurls for looking this over and assuring me it wasn’t garbage when I was in the trenches of writing. 

Me and you  We were a strange situation  And kissing you  Felt like Christmas Vacation  An exciting place to escape  Sometimes I wish that I could've stayed Cause you were my favorite Holiday  -Christmas Vacation by LØLØ

Back to You

Matthew couldn't tear his eyes away from her and knew he wasn't the only one. 

With dark hair cascading down her back in a long, shiny waterfall, big eyes and a plump little mouth that looked just made for kissing, she was the kind of classic girl next door people wrote into movies and books for the hero to find his way back to.

He especially liked what she was wearing. Bare legs weren’t really something he would advise at two hours to January in Ottawa, but at least it wasn’t a mini skirt like most women were tugging at constantly. Her shorts had a gold stripe on the sides that caught the flashing lights, as if they might have once been extravagant tuxedo pants tailored explicitly to show off her curvy legs. Her dark shirt had flecks of something metallic in the fabric - a wrapped and tied number like he’d never seen before. 

Laughter was all over her face as she danced with the people around her. Slamming her foot (clad in gold oxfords) down with the beat before circling her hips in time with the music. 

“Do you need a towel, man?” 

“What?” Matthew asked, pulling his eyes away to look at his brother.

“I asked if you needed a towel,” Brady repeated, failing to keep the teasing smile off his face, “for the drool.”    

Matthew flipped him off, and Brady laughed. 

“Go talk to her,” he encouraged, pushing Matthew off the bar stool. “I’m sick of watching you sit here and stare at her. Go do something about it.”  

He hesitated. It hadn't been that long since he’d broken up with Heidi.

“Go,” Brady repeated, shoving him across the walkway onto the dance floor. “Move on.”

Although he wasn't sure if he was ready to meet someone new, Matthew knew Brady was right. He’d be kicking himself come morning if he let a woman this good looking go without at least shooting his shot. 

As he weaved through the crowd of dancers, his competitive drive growled in his chest, pleased. He’d be damned if he let someone else get to her first.

“Your admirer is coming this way,” Roger said, nodding to someone over Jessie’s shoulder. 

She glanced over. A tallish guy with curly hair was walking right at her, a determined intensity all over his handsome face. Her gaze swung back to Roge, eyes wide. 

“Just letting you know so you can prepare,” he said with a wink. “I told you those shorts would bring all the boys.” 

Although she'd made them for the occasion, she didn't think they would pull the amount of attention they were getting. Her clothes often garnered a lot of lingering glances, though they usually came from other women. 

Someone tapped on her shoulder and she turned.

The same guy was standing in front of her. He was much taller up close, had light eyes, and his hair looked like it might be blonde. It was hard to tell under the dim dancefloor lights. 

He flashed her a charismatic smile. The gap between his front teeth only added to his charm. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, leaning in and yelling to be heard over the music. 

Jessie wasn’t generally the type to accept drinks from random strangers, but this guy was hot, had nice style, and of all the dudes that had stared at her that evening, was the first one to do something about it. 

“Sure,” she yelled back. 

“Wanna go to the bar?”

After she nodded and they started walking through the mass of dancers, she glanced over her shoulder. Roge lifted his phone out of his pocket and shook it at her. His flashlight turned on. 

She sent him a text about going to the bar and his flashlight, made sure the ringer was turned on, and slipped her phone back into her shorts pocket. Another good thing about making her own clothes: she could make the pockets as big as she needed.

Matthew couldn’t keep the smug smile off his face at the glares and disappointed looks that followed them to the bar.

“What'll you have?” the bartender asked as they came to a stop in the corner of the club. It was a bit quieter. 

“A mojito, please” she said, before gathering her hair into a fist behind her and running her hand down the length of it. 

Momentarily distracted by her actions and the flash of dark red, the bartender had to ask him again what he wanted. 

“Beer would be great,” he said, flashing a bright smile, “whatever light you recommend.” Glancing back at the girl, he ran a hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t doing something stupid, and said, “I'm Matthew, by the way. “

“Jessie. Are you from around here?”

“No, but my brother lives here. You?”

“My family is from here, but I'm usually in the states.” she said, watching the bartender muddle the mint in her drink. He didn’t seem to be doing anything funny with it. 

“Yeah? Which one?”

“New York. Well, technically New Jersey, but I study in New York.”

“What do you study?” Matthew asked, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. 

“Fashion.”

“I should have guessed,” he said. 

“You should have?”

“Yeah. You have great style.”

The smile that spread over her face made him want to kiss her. 

“What do you do, Matthew?” she asked, as she brought the black straw in her drink to her mouth. She caught it between her tongue and teeth before her lips wrapped around it. 

His train of thought ran off the rails with visions of her mouth wrapping around other things.

Thankfully, autopilot kicked in and saved him from looking like a total creep, “I play hockey.” 

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “I'm based in Florida.”

“Why the hell are you in Ottawa for New Years,” she asked, aghast, “when you could be somewhere warm?”

“We played here yesterday, so my family are all staying with my brother. Why are you here?”

“My dad grew up here, and wanted us to experience the joys of the frozen tundra at Christmastime,” she said with a long sweep of her hand, as if gesturing to the whole country. 

He laughed again, and held her eye contact. It was so intense, she was the one to break it. 

“Anyway,” she flipped her free hand, “what do you do for fun?” 

“I honestly don’t have that much free time, but I always enjoy a good libation,” he said, holding up his bottle. 

A wide smile spread over his face when she clinked her glass against it as she said, “amen.” 

“And I like to hang out with people and I play a lot of other sports.” 

“I will never understand why athletes always want to play other sports. It’s not like I sew upholstery when I’m not making clothes.” 

He laughed, loud and genuine, and Jessie felt her heart flutter a little. 

“It can be hard to turn off the competitive drive, so it helps to have somewhere to channel it. So did you make these clothes?” he asked, nodding at her outfit. 

“Yeah. I found this gold fabric,” her fingers ran down the stripe on her left hip, “and fell in love with the idea of tuxedo shorts for New Years. I play around with a lot of menswear styles.” 

“I like them,” he said. If he, by some miracle, got nominated for another award, maybe he would get a gold striped tux made. 

“We have to wear suits to all of our games, so I’m always looking for something new and interesting,” he said. 

The conversation lulled for a moment, and he continued, “what do you do for fun?” 

“I also enjoy a good libation,” she clinked her glass against his again, “and I like to play tennis and I love movies.” 

The rest of the night was spent in that little corner of the bar, talking and laughing - Matthew was funny. Quick with a movie quote and a sarcastic comment in her ear. She told him about coming to the club with her cousins, only one of whom she really knew, and he told her about coming with his family. A younger, married brother, and a sister still in college. 

He refreshed their drinks and marveled at finding a woman who could keep up with his banter, genuinely laughed at his jokes and seemed interested in him as a person rather than as Matthew Tkachuk. 

They talked about hockey, she knew some as her dad was Canadian, but not a lot, then about fashion. 

She admitted one of the reasons she’d said yes to his drink had been his pants. 

“Listen, more American men need to understand how many more girls they’d get if they just wore the right pants!” 

He cocked an eyebrow. 

“Your pants are fitted properly so I can see your ass and your thighs, and it makes you about a thousand times more attractive.” 

A cocky smile spread over his face, “Oh, yeah?” he asked, leaning into her space. 

She gulped, “yeah. If more men wore pants like yours, they wouldn’t be single.” 

He stayed in her space, and her eyes darted to his lips. He licked them, just to see what she would do at the flash of his tongue. 

Her eyes darted back to his and her cheeks pinked. He smiled. 

The music changed to a slower, more house-style song he recognised. Jessie bumped her shoulders to the beat. 

“Do you want to dance?” Matthew asked.  

“Sure.” 

They moved to the floor, and he watched, entranced as she swung her hips in rhythm.

When she turned around, pressing flush against him, his right hand immediately grasped her hip, as if that might provide some kind of grounding from the fluttering feeling in his chest. 

It wasn’t like this had never happened - girls grinding up on him. It happened quite a lot, actually. Sometimes without any kind of consent. But this? Jessie? He couldn't get enough. She was pretty and they had the kind of instant chemistry you couldn't fake. 

He found himself thinking about her beyond that night. A first since Heidi. 

For her part, Jessie couldn't stand not touching him any longer. The chemistry between them was so palpable, she was surprised other club goers weren’t getting caught in it. Feeling him move against her made desire rumble to life in her belly, growling to be released. 

They danced that way for - Matthew lost track of how many songs. She felt amazing pressed up against him. He was so in tune with how they moved together, the dancing felt like foreplay. 

When the countdown to midnight began, she turned to face him. They were still so close - she could feel his body heat seeping through his clothing and into hers, see the way his button down was just starting to cling to his skin. 

Matthew looked down at her, not hiding any of his interest. She looked back with so much hope and lust in her eyes, his stomach twisted. 

“Three, two, one!” the crowd cheered. 

He leaned down, then paused, “okay?” 

Rising onto her toes, she closed the gap between them in answer. 

All of their flirting was leading up to this moment, and Jessie wasn’t disappointed at all. It was as if everything around them faded into soft focus and the din of the crowd melted away. It was better than she could have imagined. His tongue brushed along hers, and heat flooded her stomach. 

Matthew angled closer when her fingers slid into his hair. His hand splayed over her lower back. He wished he didn’t have this beer bottle so he could have both hands on her.

It went on and on for what felt like ages - a promise of things to come. 

Someone cat called from nearby, and Jessie broke away, pursing her lips to hide how flustered she felt. At least he was as breathless as she was, his chest expanding to the confines of his shirt with every inhale. 

They stared at each other for a moment longer, not quite engaged with the crowd, which was growing increasingly restless with the New Year in full swing.

She was debating between kissing him again, or asking if he wanted to leave all together when the lights went out, plunging them into total darkness. 

The suddenness of it made her laugh. She thought it must be some kind of prank until all at once, a mono tone alarm started to scream. Lights began to strobe - harsh, bright flashes that instantly made spots appear in her vision. 

The word “fire” was popping up in the crowd.

Just as he was starting to register what was happening, murky water cascaded from the ceiling. 

The club was dissolving into chaos. Matthew snapped out of his reverie, and looked around for Taryn. 

“I have to find my sister,” he told her.

As Jessie's face was illuminated by the flashing lights, she looked stricken and worried. 

“I’ll call you, though!” he promised.

“But -” she watched him run off, knowing she hadn't given him her number. She didn't even know his last name. 

“Jessie!” Roger yelled from somewhere to her left. Her eyes roved for him, and landed when he shouted again, waving his cell phone flashlight in his own face.

She ran to him, and they followed the swarming crowd outside. 

To her complete surprise, smoke was pouring out of the building and the fire department was pulling up. She had been certain someone had pulled the alarm as a prank. 

“Fuck it’s cold out here,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, as if that would do any good. Her coat was inside, a pair of wool tights tucked in one of the pockets. She'd planned to put them on in the bathroom before they left. 

“We should call it,” Lacey said. “Catch the next train. If we hurry we won't have to wait for another one.”

“But my coat’s in there,” Jessie complained. She hadn't made it, but she may as well have, she’d altered it so much. It was the best thing in her wardrobe. 

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Roger assured, “but Lacey’s right, we should get out of here. We’re soaked and it’s below freezing.”

It wasn't just the coat. She didn’t want to lose Matthew. She hoped she might run into him in the parking lot, but had yet to see him.   

Roger and Lacey were right. Her wet clothing was already starting to freeze - stiffening and biting into her skin. Glancing around the crowd once more, she hoped she might see him, but there were too many people moving in too many different directions. 

As Roger pulled her away, she hoped against hope the universe would bring them back together. It had been so long since she'd felt a spark like she had with him.

“Who was that girl you were kissing at midnight?” Taryn asked, her tone suggestive as she waggled her eyebrows at her oldest brother. 

“Her name is Jessie,” he said, looking around for Brady. He finally spotted him with Emma and some of the Sens guys across the parking lot. 

“Seemed pretty serious.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “We got on, that’s all.” 

“I’ve seen you look like that before, and that was not just getting on with someone,” Taryn argued. “I hope you got her number.” 

“I did,” he assured, then stopped dead in their pursuit through the crowd. 

Taryn ran into his back. “Matthew!” she complained. 

He was too busy digging his phone out of his pocket to apologize or move out of the way. Thankfully, it wasn’t ruined. As he opened his recent contacts, though, he found his fear confirmed. 

Taryn pushed on his back, “Matthew, move! I wanna get inside.” 

The older brother in him took control, wrapping his arm around Taryn's shoulder to lead them to Brady and finally into the car to go home. 

As they settled into the SUV, heat blasting to melt the ice that had formed in their hair and on their cheeks, Emma punched Matthew in the arm. “That was some New Year's kiss, Matty.” 

The disappointment of reality bit into him, and he snapped, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Whoa,” Brady said in warning. 

Matthew leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. The possibility of her was still buzzing on his skin. 

The future was being ripped out of his grasp. How could so much hope be dashed so quickly? So completely? He'd been making plans in his head. Immediately, where they were going to spend the night if she was willing. Beyond that, how he would see her whenever he was in New York, and beyond that? Hopefully something that ended up with them together. 

“Oh no,” Taryn whispered, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You didn’t get her number did you?” 

He shook his head. 

“Oh, Matthew,” Taryn said, laying a hand on his back, “I’m sorry.” 

The rest of the night, he lay in Brady’s guest bedroom, Taryn in the bed next to his, and tried to relax. It wasn’t working. He could still feel the phantom of her grinding up against him, and if he thought about it too much, he got hard. 

Opening Instagram, he typed “Jessie” into the search. There were pages and pages of results. He scrolled through, hoping he might see her face. When the photos started to blur together, he clicked off the app. 

Feeling hopeless, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Jessie’s face was etched on the inside of his eyelids. He saw her smiling, heard her laugh ringing in his ears, felt her lips so perfectly fitted between his own. They should have been tangled up in bed together. The actuality of his loneliness was a slap in the face every time he turned over. 

It was after four when he finally fell asleep.

He woke sometime around 10am when Taryn sat by his feet. 

“Mom wants to know why you’re still in bed,” she said when he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. “I told her you were hungover.” 

“Thanks,” he said dryly.  

“Listen, I heard you last night.” 

His hands dropped and he gave her a suspicious look. “And what did you hear last night?” 

She took a deep breath. “I heard you crying.” 

A groan fell out of his mouth as his head tipped back. He didn’t even try to deny it. It hadn’t lasted long, the crying, but he hadn’t been able to stop it for a few minutes. He was sure Taryn heard his sniffling. 

“Is this about that girl?” 

“Listen, Taryn, I don’t want to -” 

She cut in, “Matthew, I saw the way you looked after you kissed her. It’s the same way Brady looks at Emma.”

Shit. He was in deeper than he thought. And they hadn’t even slept together yet. He didn’t even know her last name. If he knew her last name, he’d be able to find her. 

Letting his hands fall in his lap, he slouched over, and let the reality of what happened wash over him again. He would get over it eventually, but now? It felt too close to push aside. 

Taryn’s hand came to rest on his knee, “I was thinking, what if she left something at the club? I mean, people must have left coats and things with the fire alarm. We could at least try. See if you can leave your number for her, or something.” 

A spark of hope flickered to life in his chest. “Yeah, that’s a really good idea.” 

Jessie wasn’t too surprised to see the tent in front of the club when they pulled up. The post on their Instagram page said they would be available for people to pick up their belongings all day. Two women were sitting there, bundled up to the hilt. As she got closer, she saw the propane heaters. At least that was something. 

“How can we help you, darlin?” 

“Yeah, I was here last night, and I hoped I could get my coat that I left with the coat check?” 

One of the women stood, “what does it look like?” 

“It’s a black wool trench, and it has sort of wavy lapels,” she demonstrated on herself. “There’s a pair of gray wool tights in the left pocket.” 

She walked over to a rack behind their table.

The Club had seen better days, that was for sure. Some of the glass had been blown out from the heat, and there were charred bricks on the front from where the flames had licked out the windows. 

“Is it condemned?” 

“No, but it’ll take us a while to remodel, especially with the winter,” the other woman said, giving her a smile. 

“Did they find out what caused it?” 

“Not yet, but we’re pretty sure it was some faulty wiring.” 

“Here we go. Is this it?” The other woman, the one with pink hair, turned the coat around. 

Jessie smiled, relieved, “Yes.”

As she reached for the coat, she debated about the next part. What was the harm really? She knew she would be kicking herself all the way home if she didn’t. 

“I know this is a little strange, but I met someone last night, but we were separated before we could exchange numbers, and I wondered if he’d come by?” 

“I’m not sure. We’ve seen quite a few people today.”

“His name was Matthew, and he had curly hair, light eyes, and he was tall.” 

They looked at each other, each shaking their head. “I don’t think we’ve seen anyone like that today.”

She wasn’t sure what she would have done if they had. 

“Do you want to leave a note for him, or something?” 

She chewed on her lip, petting the smoke soaked coat draped over her arm. If he happened to come by, it might work. But what if he didn’t? Or what if some other guy with curly hair came by, and they gave him her note? 

She shouldn’t have even asked. It was fruitless. What did she expect? That he would just walk out of the building: here I am! 

“No,” she said, defeated. “I was just hoping.”

“Well, love has a way of coming back when you least expect it.” 

It felt like such a throw-away thing to say. “Yeah, I hope so,” Jessie said, turning back to her parents' car, parked in the lot.  

Matthew walked up to the women sitting in front of the club. He knew he was used to the Florida warmth by now, and just despised the cold on principle, but sitting out here? In this? They were nuts. 

“Hi, honey,” the older, motherly looking one greeted, “did you leave something here last night?” 

Yeah, my future, he thought. 

“No, I was hoping,” he reached up to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, I met someone here last night and I was -” 

“Are you Matthew?” the other woman interrupted. 

His eyes shot to hers. “Yeah,” he said, breathless with anticipation. 

“Oh no,” the women looked at each other. One had her hand over her mouth. 

“Someone was just here looking for you.” 

Hope started hammering in his chest. 

“Pretty little thing, lovely red hair.” 

“Yeah,” his heart was running so fast he felt like he might be sick. 

“I’m so sorry honey, we asked her if she wanted to leave a note or something, but she decided not to.” 

Now he really was going to throw up. 

They had been so close. So close to meeting again. Why hadn’t she left a note? Why didn’t he just get her number last night? 

Because he’d planned on asking her for it in the morning. 

“Well, thanks anyway,” he said, hand falling limply at his side. 

“Good luck. I hope she finds her way back to you.” 

“Thanks,” he said, turning back to the car. Taryn was watching with wrapped anticipation. He shook his head and her expression fell. 

**Nine Months Later**

For the first time since moving, the bright Florida sunshine wasn’t bright enough to make Jessie smile as she got out of bed. That September morning, she woke up to an anxious fluttering in her chest, trying to tell herself it was going to be a day like any other. She would go to the shop and sew that new sculptural blazer for the window. She'd help Raul with his clients and do the same things she’d been doing every other work day for the past three months. 

It didn’t matter that some of the Florida professional hockey team were coming in for suits for the new season. She’d already checked, and there wasn’t a Matthew on the books. 

Even if he did show up, he had probably moved on. It was just her romantic streak that kept him alive in her memory. 

After a few miserable, sulky hours on New Year's Day, Roger had finally suggested she look him up. 

“I don’t know his last name, Roge.” 

“Didn’t you say he plays hockey in Florida?” he’d asked, pulling out his phone. He found a roster for her to look through - all men in blue, none of them Matthew. There wasn’t even a Matthew on the team. 

“I think it’s hopeless,” she said. 

“Hold on, there’s another one.”

“Another what?” 

“Another team.” 

“Here, I think this is him?” he turned the phone around and Matthew was staring at her, a smug little smile on his face. 

Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were blue. And his hair was a dark blonde, with almost a gingery tone to it. 

“Matthew Tkachuk?” she asked, trying to pronounce all the letters. It came out a bit of a garbled mess. 

“Look him up on Insta.” 

So she had. She found him easily. He was verified with over 150 thousand followers. 

She messaged him, hoping. 

Hey this is Jessie from last night before the fire stole our thunder. 

He’d never even seen her message. She had checked every day for a while, then every couple of weeks until she'd all but forgotten about it, moving on with her life. 

Pulling out her phone now, she scrolled down to the thread. The date was still staring at her, no read notifications in sight. 

Matthew wasn't even all that great. That’s what she told herself every time she went on another failed date with some guy so boring she wanted to just drop off the chair and fall asleep on the bar floor. If she let herself believe he really was as charming and interested and seemingly built just for her as he’d seemed, she would never go on another set up or app date again. It had been the alcohol and the rush of the new year that had painted him in such rosy light. It was likely he was just another boring dude like all the rest. 

The pink lace she put on under her clothes before going to work was for her, and she wasn’t hoping anyone would get to see it. 

She absorbed herself with structuring the new women’s blazer all morning until the appointment at 2. 

Matthew wasn’t entirely certain why he’d agreed to go with Benny that afternoon. He already had a suit guy in St. Louis. He didn’t need another one. But Sam was persuasive, a few other guys were going, and Matthew was always looking for something new. When you have to wear the same item of clothing over and over again, might as well make it something interesting. 

Walking into the little shop, he could see why Sam liked it. There were racks and racks of interesting fabrics. Subtle and bold patterns and solid colors he never would have considered for a suit before. 

As the other guys got to browsing, Matthew wandered over to the wall of photos. In every one, a short, dark haired man was posing with various people in beautiful suits. Sam was up there as were Barky and Bob. He didn’t know they came here too. Apparently, this was the place to be. 

Something rustled in the back, and he turned. Nothing was there, but a glass cabinet that housed a display of cufflinks. 

“Matthew?” 

His head shot up. 

A pretty young woman who wasn't in any of the photos was standing in the doorway behind the display case, holding up the heavy velvet curtain. He could see a row of sewing machines under her arm. She had on a blue skirt and a green blouse. A fabric flower was attached to her wrist, a porcupine of pins sticking out of it. 

His breath locked in his chest. She was here. In Florida. She was in front of him. The girl from the New Years Eve party he couldn’t quite convince himself to let go of for half a season and the whole summer. 

Her hair was shorter than it had been - ending at her collar bone - and a dark auburn red. He supposed it had probably always been that color. She had creamy pale skin with a dusting of freckles across her nose, and shit, had her eyes always been that green? 

He’d never seen her out of that harsh club lighting, he realized. Of course she would be prettier in the daylight. 

The murmuring behind him hushed into silence, and his mind went completely blank, as if he’d never had a thought in his life. 

“Hey,” he heard himself say. The shock of seeing her was so intense, he couldn’t remember her name. He’d just been thinking about her last week after another failed third date.

Sam shot him a questioning look.  

He was in shock. He was overwhelmed. He was… he was… he was acting like an idiot. 

His heart thundered in his ears. She was looking at him like she was trying to figure out if he remembered who she was. 

“Jessie,” she said hesitantly, pointing to her chest. “From New Years?”

Didn’t he remember? His face was branded into her memory. The dream of him - of them - roared to life in her chest unbidden. Her body reacted instantly, as if no time had passed. 

Right. Jessie, Jessie, Jessie, he thought.

Cool. He needed to play this cool. “Oh, hey,” he said. “How’ve you been?” 

As soon as it was out of his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Hope fell right off her face. He saw the moment it happened, and it sliced through him like a knife to the gut. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

She wasn’t some old acquaintance he hadn’t seen in a while. She was the girl he kept coming back to. The one he thought about after failed dates or that relationship that started at the beginning of the summer only to fizzle out six weeks later. She was his, it might have been, girl.

The man walked in then, forcing her into the shop. “Ah, I see you have met Jessica. She just graduated from FIT in New York,” he bragged, “and is helping us expand into womens suiting. She’s also a marvelous tailor, so she’ll be helping with the suits as well. Jessica, these are the clients I was telling you about. From the ice hockey team. Good clients. They like interesting things.” 

She painted a smile on her face that almost looked convincing. “I can’t wait to help.” 

“You,” Raul said, “I don't know you.”

“Matthew,” he said, holding a hand out to the older Italian man. “Sam said you make the best suits on the eastern seaboard.”

Raul pulled out the leather bound book that served as his ledger, and flipped to the section Jessie had been looking at that morning, simply marked, Hockey.

“Last name?” he asked. 

He spelled it out, then pronounced it, “Tkachuk. The T is silent.” 

Raul nodded, noting the silent letter next to his name. 

“Jessica and I will take your measurements,” he said, gesturing him over to the plinth near the mirrors surrounded by dark wood. 

Jessie picked up a notebook and followed Raul. Matthew had definitely recognised her, he’d been shocked by her appearance, even. Then he treated her like…like a one night stand or an acquaintance he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to reunite with. It hurt more than it should have to have the things she was telling herself come true. 

She had hoped Raul would let her help the other clients, but luck seemed to be against her. At least he hadn’t handed her the tape. She didn’t know what she would have done if  her hands brushed against Matthew’s body. She already felt on edge just being in the same room as him. 

“Very important to get the thigh measurement with these hockey players,” Raul was saying as he threaded a measuring tape around Matthews upper thigh. “Big legs.” 

“It’s from all the skating,” Matthew said, almost out of habit. 

Jessie was doing a very good job of not looking at him. She had a little notebook in her hands and she kept her eyes trained on it as she wrote down every body part and corresponding number Raul called out. Upper thigh, lower thigh, calf, hip to knee, knee to ankle. Matthew had been measured like this before, so he just stood still and let the man do his work. 

“So, Jessie, right?” Josh asked, leaning onto one of the mirrors, nearby where she was standing, not quite in Matthew’s peripheral vision. 

She hummed in agreement. Raul was still calling out numbers to her, and she couldn’t divide her focus that well. 

“What brought you all the way down to Florida from New York?” 

Matthew clenched his jaw to keep from telling Josh off. As much as he wanted it, he didn’t have any claim over Jessie.

“Um,” she said, still jotting numbers. She spared a glance at him. He had long, unruly, dark hair, dark eyes, and a goofy smile. She smiled back, “can you give me just a minute to finish up here?” she asked, pointing at Matthew’s stomach with the cap of her pen. 

Josh blushed, “yeah, of course.” 

She went back to her notebook, face impassive once more. 

Josh stayed where he was. 

“So Chucky, what do you think about the schedule this year?” 

Matthew shrugged, then snapped himself back into place at Rauls reprimand. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

Jessie gagged internally. hoping that wasn’t really his nickname. Chucky was either a possessed doll, or a possessed rat mascot, neither of which she liked to think about for very long. 

They continued to talk about something with their team. When she and Raul finished, she handed the notebook off to him, which he would transcribe into the ledger. He still didn’t trust her to do it the way he liked. 

Matthew didn’t move off the plinth, but she turned to the other man, “sorry, what was your question?” 

She sounded so polite, so formal. Sure, they’d only met that one night, but she hadn’t been guarded like this at that club in Ottawa. He supposed that was probably his fault. God, why was he such an idiot?

“I wondered what brought you to Florida. It’s a long way from New York.” 

“Oh, the heat,” she said. “I was so tired of the north-east cold.”

“And you know Raul…”

“He and one of my mentors are great friends, and he got us in touch. I have some family down here, and wanted to live somewhere warm for a change. Raul wanted to expand into some womenswear, and tailoring happens to be one of my specialties.” She said it without much emotion. Just stating the facts. “We met, I made him and myself a suit to audition, and here we are.” 

Matthew opened his mouth to say something about how he was glad she was here, but she walked away before he could force the words out. 

Josh gave him a look that said something like, women, right? 

Matthew walked away before he said something stupid.

“While I update the rest of your measurements, Jessica can help you with fabrics. She’s excellent with color. Jessica, why don’t you get the samples and help them pick out what they need.” 

She nodded, went into the back and came out with five big binders. She set them on the table, and flipped some of them open. 

She helped Reino pick out a dark teal, a blue and a few subtle plaids before moving on to someone else. 

Matthew was the last at the table. 

“What are you looking for?” she asked, trying to keep her voice and demeanor level. No need to let him know how her heart still pounded just looking at him when it was so obvious he didn’t care about her. 

“I'm always looking for something interesting,” he said. “What would you suggest?” 

Her eyes darted up to his face. His eyes were so blue - much more intense in person. He had the kind of eyes poets say hold summer skies and glacial lakes. It was the first time she really saw them, and they took her breath away. 

“Well,” she forced herself back to work, “you could pull off almost anything with your coloring. How adventurous are you?” 

“I’m willing to try anything once,” he said, trying to sound flirtatious. It just came off desperate. 

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “How many suits are you looking for?” 

“Eight,” he said. 

He didn’t need eight suits. But if it kept him at this table for longer, he would buy as many as she would sell him. 

“All for here?” 

“For here?”

“To be worn here, in Florida? The others have mentioned needing some for travel.”

“Oh, I’ll need three or four for travel, three at least for the cold.” 

They talked through colors. She opened a binder she hadn’t given anyone else. None of the other guys were as handsome, or seemed as adventurous with their style as Matthew. 

“If you’re brave enough, I think this lilac would look really good on you,” she said, pulling the pastel fabric sample off the board and holding it up. He was more bronze than he had been when they’d met, but it would still look good when his summer tan faded. 

“Okay,” he said. He trusted her style. He’d never worn lilac, but if she thought it would look good, he’d give it a shot.

Jessie got the feeling he was just agreeing with her to get this whole thing over with. Still, she couldn’t help pulling the best fabrics for him, even an expensive light blue linen blend that would make him look like Brad Pitt in Santorini. He didn't balk when she mentioned the price. He didn't even seem to notice. 

“Chucky, how did you know Jessie?” Bennet said as they walked down the block to the public parking they’d all met at. 

“A party,” he said, trying to sound non-committal. 

People got into their cars, but before Matthew could leave, Benny came up to his driver's window. “You wanna tell us what’s going on?” 

“You’re never this quiet,” Reino said from his place on Benny’s left. 

Matthew sighed and got out of the car. This was going to take a while. Sam had always been a bit of a brother to him and he knew he wouldn’t let him go without an explanation. 

“Jessie and I met last New Years Eve,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the hood of his car. 

“Okay, and what did you do? Hookup and never call her again?” 

“No!” He sounded too defensive, even to his own ears. 

Reino raised an eyebrow, “so what happened?” 

His hands raked into his hair so he didn't have to look at them as he told the story. “We met at this club in Ottawa, and we had this amazing connection. I've never felt anything like it before. Like, boom: Instant chemistry.” It felt even worse to say it out loud. 

Both guys just waited. 

“But the club caught fire.” 

“Wait, what?” Benny asked. “Really?”

“I know, man,” Matthew said, throwing his hands up, “and I thought I had her number, so I left her to find Taryn, but I didn’t, and I couldn't find her after. I didn’t think I was ever going to see her again, and then, all of a sudden she was here,” he gestured in the direction of the shop, “and I just…” 

“Fucked it?” Benny asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“So go back and talk to her,” Reino said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

He scoffed. “What would I say? ‘Hey, sorry I completely forgot your name and treated you like our connection didn't matter, but I actually haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past nine months?’” 

“Better than not saying anything,” Benny said. 

Matthew shook his head, “I can’t go back in there.” 

“Why not?” 

“You didn’t see her face. There’s no way she wants to talk to me.” 

A few weeks later, Jessie was piecing Matthew’s jacket from the blue linen in the back of the shop. The fabric was so light and delicate, she couldn’t even have music going while working with it. One wrong move and there would be pulled threads all over the place. She knew Raul would disapprove, but she gave herself twice the seam allowance to make sure she could finish the inside raw edges. Otherwise the fabric would start to pull apart - eventually, quite literally, fraying at the seams. 

“Uh, hello?” someone asked. 

She jumped and dropped the scissors. She let them clatter to the floor with a curse. She’d been so focused on the task at hand, she hadn’t heard the bell ring. 

“One second,” she called, before securing her pattern with an extra pin, picking up the scissors and coming out to the sales floor. 

“Hi, sorry about that. I got kind of in the zone. What can I do for you?” 

It was one of the hockey guys. The one with strawberry hair. She couldn’t help but glance around him to see if he’d brought anyone with him. 

She shouldn’t even be looking for Matthew, especially considering he'd ignored all of her phone calls about his suiting. All the same, seeing him again had awoken her longing in a way she couldn’t quite tamp down. 

“Raul said I had some suits he wanted me to try on,” he said. 

She asked his name, then went to the back to retrieve the garment bag. She remembered this one. She’d convinced him an oxblood red wouldn’t look too harsh with his coloring, and she was hoping he would like the results. 

Giving him a pair of pants, she left him in the changing room while she cut extra threads on the inside of the jacket.

Immediately, she could see the pants were a smidge too loose. They talked about his preferred fit, and he avoided looking at her as she pinned the inner thigh. All men reacted this way, but to Jessie, this was all about the garment. As far as she was concerned, he was a mannequin under these clothes. 

Finally, the questions that had been ruminating in her mind got the best of her. “So, did Matthew get traded or something?” 

“Chucky?” he asked, surprised.  

“I guess so.” 

“No,” he was laughing as he said it, “he has seven more years on his contract.”

“Oh.” 

“Why?” 

“I’ve just called him a few times about measurements, or fittings, and he’s never called back or come in.”

“Really? He told me he was here yesterday.” 

Of course he was coming in on her day off. Why had she even told him that in the message?

She stood up, and moved onto the jacket after asking him if he ever planned to wear it with a sweater. He wasn’t sure. Or if she should shorten the sleeves. He liked them a little longer. 

“Chucky told us what happened in Ottawa,” he said. 

Jessie felt her shoulders tense, but kept working. “Yeah?” she asked, not daring to look up. All this still felt too close to the surface, and she didn’t want this man she barely knew to know how much it had hurt when Matthew brushed her aside. 

“Yeah, he said he looked for you after the fire.” 

“I tried to stay, but my cousins and I were soaking wet and it was below freezing so we had to catch the train.” 

“He said he went back the next day and you’d been there, but didn’t leave a note.” 

That made Jessie gasp. Audibly. She blushed and tried to brush it off, “I was worried it might go to the wrong person,” she said, “plus I messaged him on Instagram and he never responded.” 

He hummed, debating the best way to approach this. He wanted to do some digging without letting on that’s what he was doing. “He said you guys had quite the connection.” 

Was she really going to go into this with one of his teammates? She hadn’t talked to anyone about it but Roger. Words bubbled up into her mouth so fast, she guessed she was. 

“Yeah, we did.” God, why did she have to sound so moony?

“Do you think there’s still something there?” 

“He made it pretty obvious there’s not.” 

“I don’t think he meant to do that. He was pretty shocked to see you.”

“I was shocked to see him too, but I didn’t just brush him aside.” 

“Listen, Jessie - it’s Jessie, right?”

She nodded.

“Matthew can be pretty thick. He gets so in his head, sometimes he doesn’t really think things through, but he told us what happened, and how much he liked you, and he said he fucked it and you wouldn’t want to see him again.”

She hummed, and got him a new suit to try on. She’d been right. The oxblood did look killer on him, like he could be in a GQ shoot. He looked impressed. 

“Would you want to see him again?” Sam asked. 

“If he came in here himself?”

He nodded. 

“I’d at least give him a chance.” 

Even though she would usually just move on, she’d never felt anything like the instant connection she and Matthew shared on New Years. It was the kind of thing she thought only existed in books and rom coms. Experiencing it in real life made it into something she couldn’t just walk away from.  

They talked about where they were from and made comfortable small talk for the duration of the fitting. She told him how relieved she was when Raul trusted her enough to run the shop by herself one day a week. 

“Listen, I’ll tell Chucky to come by next Wednesday. We’re leaving for the opening roadie that day, but I’ll try to get his head out of his ass before we leave.” 

She giggled. 

He could see why Matthew liked her, and could see how their personalities would match up well. She was kind and easy to talk to - quiet at first, but got louder as she got comfortable, and Chucky was just loud all the time. He could tell they both valued relationships more than things. 

The next week, after their final practice before the season opening road trip, Benny cornered Matthew in his stall. “You need to go see Jessie.”

“She doesn't want to talk to me, man.”

“The way she asked me about you last week would say otherwise.”

He scoffed. 

“I told her you still like her -”

“You what?!”

“She brought you up first and you weren't doing shit, so don’t tell me I was ruining your plans or some bull. She said she's called you a bunch of times, but you only show up when she's not there.”

“It's just easier,” Matthew mumbled. It wasn't his fault she told him when she'd be gone.

Benny rolled his eyes. “Dude, wake up. She still likes you.” 

Matthew looked at him, skeptical, “she told you that?” 

“Yes, but she didn’t need to. The first thing she asked me was if you’d been traded. We weren’t even talking about you.”

 A ridiculous amount of hope lit up his face.

“I knew it! You still like her too!”

What’s not to like? Matthew thought.

“She runs the shop on Wednesdays. Just go talk to her.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I went there last Wednesday, dumbass. She told me.” 

Matthew hesitated, still unconvinced. 

“Go. Now. I’ll drive you myself if I have to. I’m sick and tired of you moping around when there’s such an easy solution to your problem.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” Matthew said, holding his hands up in defeat. 

“And check your instagram. She said she sent you a message.” 

Usually when she walked onto the sales floor after the doorbell dinged, Jessie would have to search for someone among the racks of fabric samples and ready to be tailored suits. This time, a man was standing at the counter, watching her with the same determined intensity he’d shown the first time they met.

He was here. Finally. Four of his suits had been sitting in the storage room for more than a week, further proof that he was avoiding her. 

“Hi Matthew,” she greeted hesitantly. 

“Hey Jessie.”

They looked at each other in awkward silence for a moment. 

“Can I help you with something?” 

“Yeah, Raul told me some of the suits were ready?”

“They are.”

“I just came to pick those up.” 

“Oh,” the tiny spark of hope fizzled out again. Sam must not have made it through to him. 

She looked instantly downcast. 

To hell with it. He couldn't make any more of an ass of himself. “And I wanted to see you,” he blurted.

“You wanted to see…me?” she repeated, pulling a pen from her ponytail to start fiddling with it. He didn’t know why, but it struck him as such an endearing gesture. 

“Yeah,” he said, heart falling. Was Sam setting him up? He was a prankster, but not to this level, usually. Not when it was this important. 

“Why would you want to see me?” she asked, feeling that guard go up. Every time she got her hopes up about Matthew, he tore them down.

Thoughts raced through his mind. He could lie so easily, but where would that get him? It was time to just own up and blurt it out. Her reaction be damned. “Because I really like you.”

She looked surprised. Way more surprised than he’d expected. “I thought you didn’t remember.”

“How could I forget?” he asked. “I thought you must hate me since I forgot your name and acted like such an ass that first day.”

Shaking her head, Jessie wondered how on earth they got into this situation. “I mean, I was disappointed, but then, you backed it up by never coming to the shop when I was working, I thought you must be trying to avoid me.”

“I was.”

One of her eyebrows shot up.

“Not like that,” he floundered. “Like, I couldn’t stand to see you and remember how well we got on, and how much I like you, and how pretty you are when I knew I'd blown my chance and you hated me.”

She let out a laugh. “That makes no sense. What did I ever do to make you think I hated you? I called you every time something was finished, or we needed a new measurement. I gave you the best fabric selections.”

Had that been because she liked him? “I don’t know, it did in my brain. I guess I was so embarrassed I forgot your name when I like you so much, I was telling myself you must be angry with me.”

Jessie rolled her eyes. “You know, Matthew, for someone so smart, you can be pretty dumb.” 

“You think I’m smart?” He’d been called many things in his life, but smart was rarely one of them. 

“Yes. I think you’re very smart, except when it comes to romance, I guess.” 

He chuffed a laugh, grabbing the back of his neck. “I really fucked this one up, didn’t I?” 

“I don’t know,” she said, trying to be cool and hoping against hope that this last shot would land on target. If it didn’t, she was kicking him out and scrubbing him from all her memories. “I think you might still have a chance.” 

His eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah?” 

She nodded. 

Heart pounding, but trying to keep that flirty, cool skin on, he walked around the counter to remove the barrier between them. 

Knowing he still liked her brought all those feelings from the club rushing back. She’d never felt like that with anyone else. If only he knew how many times she’d replayed that night. How many times she remembered how he felt and how no one had ever kissed her like that, or swept her off her feet so quickly.

“Play your cards right,” she said, feeling breathless with the nearness of him. “And I think you might get another chance at bat.”

As he leaned in closer, her pupils dilated, and her eyes darted to his mouth. He licked his lips just to see her force her eyes back to his like last time. Her blush was even more adorable in the daylight.

“If I swing, what are my odds of getting a home run?” 

She laughed. It didn’t break the spell. It turned out that palpable chemistry was still between them, just waiting to be ignited. Their eye contact was hot and glued together.

“Maybe not today,” she said, “but I think it’s a safe bet that you’ll get on base.” 

Time moved in slow motion as he leaned in further, looking at her mouth, then her neck, then her cleavage, barely visible through the two undone buttons of her starched, white shirt, before snapping back to hers as she stopped him with a hand pressed tightly to his chest.  

“We can’t do this here. There are cameras on the floor,” she said. 

His head dropped forward in defeat. “I have to leave for Vegas in two hours,” he said, feeling more than a bit desperate. “I really don’t want to wait until I’m back.” 

“I don’t want to either, but I’m telling you, if Raul catches me making out with a client, I’m going to be out on my ass.” 

“So what do we do?”

She thought for a moment before an idea struck her. “Follow me.” 

She made a big show of walking into the back, digging his new lilac suit out of the garment bag and hanging it in the private dressing room. “You go in there. When I come back and ask you how it’s fitting, you need to tell me something needs to be adjusted and invite me in, okay?” 

“Right. Yeah, okay.” 

She put out the sign that said she would return soon and locked the front door. It wasn’t that unusual to lock up when they were helping a high profile client, anyway. Plus, Wednesdays were always the slowest day of the week, hence why she was allowed to man the shop alone. She just hoped Raul wouldn’t have any reason to review the tapes. 

Her whole chest felt like it was full of helium as she walked back to him. Were they really about to do this? 

“Everything going okay in there?” she asked. 

“Something’s wrong with this suit jacket,” he said. “Can you come take a look?” 

Upon entering, she found Matthew with his shirt already off.

Sweet Jesus, she was not prepared for that. For his sculpted body, and his chest hair, that tapered into a thin trail running down the center of his abs before it dipped enticingly into the waistband of his pants. 

“That’s not fair,” she said. 

“What’s not fair?” he reached for her and drew her to him, hands splaying over her waist.

“You’re already half naked,” she said, eyes wandering down his chest again. 

“You could be too,” he teased, playfully pulling at the shirt tucked into her waistband. He didn’t actually pull any of the fabric loose, which she appreciated. He was letting her set the pace.

“Damn, Jessie. You’re the only woman I know who can make a pant suit look sexy.” 

She laughed, and pulled the whole shirt over her head, leaving her in a white camisole, a black lace bra peeking out from underneath it. 

“Do you always wear black lingerie to work?” he asked, voice gone husky as he ran a finger under one of the straps. 

“Only when I think you might come in.” 

His eyes snapped to hers, thrilled but questioning. 

“Sam told me he was going to try to get you to come by today.”

“So this really is for me?” he felt dizzy with the prospect.

“No. It’s for me. I put it on this morning, thinking that at the very least if you came in and you were an ass again, you wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing how hot I look in my bra,” she said, before stripping off the camisole so he could see exactly how hot she looked in her bra. 

Seeing her, in black suit pants, a gold belt buckle flashing at her waist, and her sheer, floral lace bra that plunged between her breasts, the breath was sucked out of his lungs. 

His ongoing ache for her intensified, pressing insistently against the confines of his jeans. 

He stepped toward her when she once again stopped his progress with a hand to the chest. “I really like you, Matthew,” she said, swooning a little at the happiness that lit up his face, “but I was serious. I don't want to have sex.” 

“Can you define that a little more?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like you don't want oral sex, or…” 

She wouldn't have guessed oral sex would even be on the table. She practically had to beg past boyfriends for it. 

“I mean I don't want to have penetrative sex. The first time with someone new is hard enough. I don't want to make it more complicated by taking a bed out of the equation.” 

“I get that. Plus, it'll give me something to look forward to when I get back,” he said with a grin and a cheeky wink. 

God, maybe they really were made for each other. 

As his left hand slipped to the back of her neck, the other spread over her rib cage, thumb brushing against the soft lace that cupped her breast. 

She sucked in a breath, letting her hand ghost up his torso over the ridges and valleys, until her fingers hooked over his shoulder. The other slid around to his back.

It felt like it had been a million years since they’d last done this. Not the touching, not the skin to skin, which felt like…it felt like heaven, but the longing. 

Jessie was looking at him with that same hope and lust in her eyes. It made his stomach twist with that same wanting to fulfill them both. 

It was so long coming, he wanted to savor every movement, every breath, every glance. Her eyes were so green. Somehow even more green up close. 

Finally, when their lips met, she sighed, melting against him. 

This was all together more intense and less hurried than their first kiss had been. It was a slow burn, a thorough seduction, a fulfillment of everything Matthew had been dreaming of that night they lost each other. 

When he pulled away, their heavy breaths crashed together. 

Fingertips sliding up her back, he tried to memorize the feel of her. Her skin was so soft. 

Jessie was growing impatient. Any other moment, she would love this slow seduction. Most of the time she felt like men moved too fast. Today though, she had so much sexual frustration built up for him that the weight of desire was already heavy between her legs. 

Taking matters into her own hands, she leaned in and trailed her mouth along his jaw before nipping the soft spot behind it, just under his ear. He shuddered when she soothed it with her tongue. 

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” she confessed, barely above a whisper.

That snapped him into action. Taking her waist, he pulled her flush to him, and crushed his mouth to hers. 

There was the passion she’d been looking for. 

As they surged together, she felt so restless and turned on, she tried to hook a knee over his hip in an attempt to slot him between her legs. 

Groaning against her, his hand slid over her rear and down her leg to keep it elevated and wrapped around him. 

Kissing her was so much better than he remembered. How was that possible? She was so good in his dreams. In reality, she was living - flesh and bone and wanting - and he couldn’t get enough. 

Moving to her neck, he sucked her pulse point. He felt her tremble against him, but her hand still came up to pull him back to her mouth. “Nothing visible, okay? I have to go back to work.” 

He nodded and caught her lips. It might be too late for that one, but he wouldn’t do it again. 

Her desire was a wildfire, consuming every part of her. It wanted to consume him, too. 

When she tucked two of her fingers behind the button of his jeans, a moan fell into her mouth. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” 

She tore the zipper down, and palmed him through his boxers. His hips jumped into her hand as a moan ripped from his throat.

His fingers fumbled to her belt buckle and paused. 

“Please,” she whimpered. 

He was clumsy with desperation and the distraction of her kissing and biting his neck, but he finally got it open and her pants undone. 

The weight of the buckle sunk the waistband to the floor with a heavy clink, and Jessie stepped out of it, kicking off her shoes at the same time. Sinking her hand into his pants, she shoved them down his muscular legs. 

He nearly fell over in his attempt to get out of his shoes so he could free himself from the shackle of the fabric around his ankles. 

Jessie giggled, and moved with him as he stepped away. He finally got his first look at her in her underwear. Made of some fabric he couldn’t name, they were also black and cut high on her hip. He could see it was a thong in the mirrored wall behind her. 

His jaw grew heavy with longing, but managed to make his mouth work enough to tell her, “you’re so beautiful, Jessie.”

“Thank you. I think you’re really handsome.” she said, running a hand down his chest. And he was - he could be a living specimen in the greek sculpture exhibit in the Louvre with his curly hair and sculpted body. 

Sliding his hands over her hips, he pulled her to him once more. He hesitated for a moment, and Jessie took charge, too impatient to wait. “Matthew?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I really appreciate you getting my consent, I really, really do, but you can just move forward. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” 

“Okay.” 

She captured his mouth again and the fire roared to life between them, stoked hotter by so much skin touching skin. 

Sneaking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he pushed them down, trusting that she would stop him if she wanted to.

She didn’t want him to. 

His fingers traced back up her leg and when he stroked her, she broke from the kiss to let her head lull forward onto his shoulder. Her panting breaths were the stuff of his dreams. She was already so wet, and he wanted nothing more than to bring her pleasure. 

“Oh,” she moaned when he explored more, running a couple of rough fingers from her entrance to her throbbing bundle of nerves. She rocked into his hand, and he took the hint, caressing her over and over again until she was trembling and moaning. 

“Matthew,” her voice was wrecked: desperate and thick with longing. 

“What do you need?” 

“Your fingers,” she begged, “inside me.” 

He obeyed, following the rhythm she set. Pressing the pad of his thumb to her clit, a wicked, self satisfied smile took over his face as her head tipped back, and her breath hitched. 

“Oh,” she moaned, “just like that.” Her hands slid to his arms, clinging to his biceps. 

He rutted against her thigh in an attempt to pacify some of his own lust. 

Body shaking, she cried out. 

Matthew continued to stroke and leaned in, kissing her right through her orgasm. He wanted to eat her pleasure for breakfast - sustain himself with it on long, lonely nights. He knew he would dream of her voice and all her little sounds through the whole ten days away, anxious to come back to the very actual reality of her. He kept having to remind himself this wasn’t a dream.

Feeling her core pulse around him again and again, the release was so long coming, it seemed to go on forever.

As her breathing finally slowed, he eased his fingers from her. 

“Oh my god,” she said, still clutching him to stay upright. “I’m so pissed we had to wait nine months for this.” 

Laughter barked out of his mouth.

When she could make her hands work, Jessie pulled his hard, hot length from his boxers, and stroked a few times. 

His mouth fell open, and he panted, “it’s bullshit, right?”

“Such bullshit,” she agreed, devouring the pleasure that washed over his face.

“Wait,” he said, grasping her wrist. “I want this to last.” 

“You already got me off,” she said. “What do you need to wait for?” 

“I'm not going until you've come at least twice. What's the point of women being able to have multiple orgasms if I can't give them to you?”

That was some flawed logic, but she allowed him to pull her hand away. She wasn’t going to say no.

“Can I taste you?” 

“If you want,” she said hesitantly, as if he might be pulling some kind of prank. She'd never had a man offer to go down on her first.

“I do want,” he said, guiding her to lean against the mirrored wall and sinking to his knees. “I've been wondering how you taste since we met.”

Maybe that oral fixation all the girls talked about online was actually true.

“Can you put your leg up here?” he asked, sliding a gentle hand to the back of her knee, and lifting so the joint bent around his palm. He guided her foot to the stool. 

When he looked up at her, his blue eyes shining with excitement, she retraced their steps to get there. Not even ten minutes before would she have expected to end up with Matthew Tkachuk eating her out in the back dressing room. 

“That feels okay?” he confirmed, palm stroking back up her thigh.

God, he was even making sure she was comfortable. Her whole body fluttered in anticipation. “Yeah,” she breathed. 

Every other time a man had given her oral, they were fast and sloppy, obviously trying to get it over with as soon as possible. With Matthew, he seemed to be dragging it out for his own pleasure, tasting and teasing like he just couldn’t get enough. He was driving her crazy - winding her tighter and tighter. 

“Matthew,” she moaned. It was better than any of his dreams. Better than any fantasy. “More. Please. More.” 

She felt his lips briefly curve into a smile against her before he really got to work. Licking with the whole flat of his tongue, then flicking with the tip, he was suddenly everywhere. 

Her hand scrambled for purchase on the wall behind her. Met only with the slick mirror, her fingers fumbled into his hair, searching for anything to hold on to. 

He groaned into her, almost as if in pain.

“O-okay?” she asked, voice shaking as she attempted to loosen her grip.

When she felt his response but couldn't hear it, it took all her willpower to push him away. She was not going to hurt him, especially when he had been so insistent on her consent. She could feel his hard breathing rushing over her and it set her skin to trembling. 

“Okay?” she asked again. 

“Good,” he assured, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I'll let you know if you pull too hard,” he said with a wink before diving back in. 

Her head thunked back against the mirror. He really was made for her, that was the only explanation. 

 God, she was perfect. She tasted like paradise, like water in the desert, like his favorite meal after a long period of fasting. She satiated his every craving. 

“Matthew,” she moaned. “Oh my god, Matthew.”

His competitive drive growled into a higher gear, demanding to please her until she whimpered and begged. He licked and sucked and spelled his own name with his tongue, gauging where she liked to be touched most. 

Pleasure began to tingle low in her pelvis. It loosened her hips and turned her legs to putty. She'd never had a man take this much interest, let alone put so much effort into her pleasure. She moaned something unintelligible, even to her own ears.

He slipped a finger into her, and she cried out. Her hand tightened in his hair when he added another. 

A whimper on every exhale, she panted, trying to keep some semblance of control. It shattered when he gently kneaded her g spot. 

Pleasure thundered low in her belly, and she was forced over the cliff, glad to know Matthew would be there to catch her fall. Her vision turned hazy as she crashed. Time and space exploded into nothing more than shadowy constructs. She heard herself shout as if listening from another room.

When she came back to herself, Matthew was still languidly tasting her folds, one of his forearms braced over her hips to keep her upright. 

Pushing him away from her core, she tried to catch her breath. 

As he sat back, he wiped his face with his free hand. The satisfaction of pleasing her rumbled contentedly in his chest. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I fucking love you.” 

He laughed, a look of delighted surprise on his face.

The reality of what she'd just said hit her and Jessie covered her face with her hands, “oh my god. I can't believe I just said that out loud.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me during sex.” 

Relief sunk into her bones. Soul mates. They had to be soul mates. 

A few moments later, she finally found her feet and pushed away from the mirror.

“Alright,” she said, reaching for him and wrapping her fingers around his erection. He stumbled toward her, anxious to feel more. 

She smoothed the precome leaking from the tip onto the shaft with her thumb. “I think it's my turn to taste now.” 

Matthew wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected her to do, but lowering to her knees in front of him right away hadn't been at the top of the list. He expected her to jerk him off for a minute, maybe kiss and tease him a little. Not that he was complaining. If she was willing, he'd gladly accept. 

“Do you like more suction or more mouth?” she asked before licking the underside of his shaft. 

Oh God.

“I dont - I don't care.” He wasn't sure he was even going to last long enough for it to make a difference. He felt so close to the surface already. 

“You don't care?” she repeated, sitting back on her haunches to look up at him. 

With her mouth off of him, he could explain his reasoning a little better. 

“Frankly, I've been dreaming about this for so long, I could almost bust just from seeing you on your knees.” 

She was flattered and also a little relieved she wasn't the only one. 

“Okay,” she said as she reached up to pump him a few times. “Something we'll figure out later.”

The fact that she was thinking about the future, too, made him weak. 

Her lips wrapped around his tip, tongue caressing, and he was right there. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Jessie,” he moaned, “god that feels good.”

Was it the best blow job ever? Objectively no, but it was Jessie, so it felt more important than any that came before it. He felt like he was fifteen again, getting his first head, amazed by everything and having no restraint. 

“I'm - I'm gonna come,” he moaned, trying to pull back so as not to come in her mouth. 

Jessie would rather have it in her mouth than all over her, so she gripped the backs of his thighs to keep him in place. 

“Oh, fuck.” How could she possibly be this perfect? 

She sucked and caressed and he exploded with a long low groan. 

She kept licking, albeit more gently, until he pulled back, sensitivity making it too much to bear.

“Holy shit,” he said. The room felt muggy and he felt content in a way he'd been longing for since they'd lost each other. 

“Yeah,” she agreed. 

He helped her to her feet, and pulled her against him, wanting to feel her close. 

A while later, her phone, which had fallen out of one of her pants pockets, buzzed and the time flashed. 

“Shit! I have to go,” he said, scrambling for his clothes. “I still have stuff to pack!” 

“When’s your flight?”

“In an hour and a half, but I have to drive home and then to the airport.”

They rushed to get their clothes back on. He hated seeing her bra disappear under the camisole again. 

As soon as he was dressed, he grabbed her jaw and kissed her. Her hands floated from tucking her shirt to cup his face. 

He'd just had her, but the wanting roared back to life as soon as she touched him, as if his body was trying to remind him what was possible between them. Like he could ever forget. 

“This was so amazing. I promise I'll take you on a real date when I'm back, and I'll call you while I’m gone,” he said. “I'm sorry I have to dash out of here.”

He kissed her again, hard and purposefully, before rushing out of the dressing room. 

“Wait!” she chased him onto the sales floor still tucking her shirt, “my number. You need my number.” 

“Oh my god,” he slapped a palm to his forehead. “I can't believe I almost left without it again!”

She giggled, “you're not getting away from me this time.”

They exchanged numbers and Matthew raced home. 

He rushed to pack the last of his things, grateful for the example his dad set, in always having a base bag packed the day before a road trip just in case something came up. 

He was the last one on the plane, a first for him.

“Chucky just got fucked!” someone yelled. 

Matthew felt his cheeks get hot. His hair was probably wild from Jessie's hands, and he could feel the love bite on his neck, a sure sign it would soon be a full blown mark. 

Reino met his eyes and raised a brow. Jessie? he mouthed. 

Matthew nodded. 

He wiped the back of his hand over his brow in mock relief. 

“Oh thank God,” Bennett exclaimed from across the aisle. “I thought I was going to have to lock you two in a room until you got together.”

Matthew laughed. 

When he got settled, he sent Jessie a text. Just on the plane, but I'm missing you already. I'm back on the 14th, so pencil me in for that date. 

I have you in for the weekend. We have a lot of time to make up for. 

Fanciction Masterlist

[luvsherleafs]

OMG! Where do I start? Let's start with Thank You! I was pissed when I saw the notice because I knew I couldn't read it right there and then because - life, and I wanted to take my time and enjoy. I'm so glad I waited to enjoy this! Mutual falling mixed with stupidity is such a favourite! And Matthew lends himself to that so well! I may have yelled when she didn't leave a note. And there was laughter as I remembered the suits - such an attention to detail! Bless the Panthers media team for all those pics! And I am never going to look at a dressing room the same way. 🥵 I loved it! 💙

[luvsherleafs]

Hey Lovely,

It's your winter fic exchange writer again. I have a few more questions for you.

Do you have any OC names you really like? I was thinking Dessa or Blake or maybe Jessie? I'm happy to use whatever name you'd like, though.

And do you have any tropes you'd like me to avoid? Or any you'd like me to include? I know in your submission, you said you like happy endings, so I'm planning on that, but I wanted to see if there's anything else you'd like to see.

Hope you have a lovely day! 💜

Hey!

I like Blake and Jessie for names.

Tropes - pretty much anything goes. Oblivious to lovers with mayhem and shenanigans is always fun. I am about happy endings. We all need happy endings to distract from real life.

Hope that helps. Have fun with it. I can't wait to see what you create! 💙

[luvsherleafs]

Heya! I'm your writer for the 2k24 Winter Fic exchange! Wanted to know if you have any players you're REALLY into atm, and what your favorite thing about that person is?

I'm so excited to start writing!

Hello!

To be honest right now, I'm not sure who I'm really into. But you can never go wrong with Matthew Tkachuk because of his sheer force of will to get things done by whatever means it takes.

Hope that helps! Have fun! 💙

[wyattjohnston]

need a little company - nick blankenburg

summary: morgan hasn't seen nick in years and her strongest memories of him are the crush he had on her in college. when he gets signed to columbus after years apart, morgan realises that maybe she should have given him a chance.

chapter word count: 3.8k

last < table of contents > next

Morgan sat up on her couch, her right foot resting on the coffee table with her knee wrapped in athletic tape. She’d done too much. It was exactly what her PT had told her she should be able to handle, but the pain and the swelling she could feel under the tape let her know that she was right to have been so cautious up to that point.

The tape would have to come off after she was done using it as a barrier for the ice pack she’d pulled from the front of her freezer. She wasn’t looking forward to that either.

To distract herself, she decided to make a phone call she’d been putting off for a few days. Dialling the newly saved number caused a lump to form in her throat; she couldn’t even guarantee she’d been given the right number.

She had barely put the phone on her good knee and set it to speaker when it was answered.

“This is Nick.”

It was the right number. That was something.

“This is Morgan,” she said, hoping that she was the only one he knew. Or that her voice was the same over the phone. “You’re a really hard guy to get a hold of.”

There was a laugh on the other end of the phone, and it was much happier than she had been expecting. She smiled to herself.

“Well, I didn’t know you were trying to get hold of me.”

“I had to call half the cross-country team before someone could give me one of your boys’ numbers,” she revealed, all the phone calls she’d made and messages she’d sent running through her mind, “and I spoke to some idiot named Thom who gave me the fucking third degree about who I was and what I wanted before he’d even admit to knowing you.”

It had been an infuriating conversation, with Thom asking the same questions repeatedly after silences so long that Morgan was positive he’d put the phone down and walked away. She never wanted to speak to him again.

“I’m kinda glad Thom didn’t just give it up for free,” Nick said thoughtfully. “You coulda been anybody. A stalker.”

She snorted, “Yeah? You got a lot of those?”

“There’s this one girl who made a million phone calls just to get my number—my buddy had to text me to make sure it was okay to give it to her.”

That explained the silences from Thom.

She picked at the frayed edges of the athletic tape as she conceded, “Okay, maybe Thom’s not a total idiot.”

Nick laughed, countering that he had more than a few stories that would prove otherwise and when Morgan hummed, her own laugh bubbling, he launched into a tale that included a win, LIVE, and an embarrassment of a fake ID.

The mention of hockey reminded Morgan that there was a game on, and, while Nick was speaking, she turned on the television, making sure to mute it in case Nick was pretending it wasn’t on. It’s what she would do in his position.

“Can’t believe you had to get to Thom,” Nick said at the end of his story, disbelief clear in his voice. “You wouldn’t have even been at school with him.”

Morgan hummed and ran through the list of people she had to message and call to get through to him—it took five people because the first two had deleted any hockey players numbers the second they graduated, the third was able to give her the number of person four who was a junior on the cross-country team, and finally she got Thom’s number.

“Must have been desperate to speak to me.” She could hear the smirk in his voice, the image clear in her mind even after she hadn’t seen it in person for years. She rolled her eyes.

“You’ve been waiting for me to call, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, was going to give it another 24 hours before I sent a text to make sure you weren’t dead.”

“Thom gave you my number?” Morgan asked, scandalised by the idea.

“Course he did.”

“Nothing was ever a secret between you boys so I don’t know why I’m surprised,” she said slowly, a little distracted by a loose thread of tape, that she tracked it as it unravelled across the length.

Nick’s laugh drew her right back into the conversation. “You call me just to talk about me and the boys?”

“I heard you broke your ankle and wanted to like… offer my assistance or whatever,” Morgan said, hoping she sounded as nonchalant as she aimed for.

A brief moment of silence was followed by the confused question: “Why would you do that?”

“Because being injured fucking sucks?” Her knee twinged in empathy. “You’re in a new city without a real good support system; I just thought I’d offer.”

“My mom came down.”

Morgan froze, her chest tightening, because she knew a rejection when she heard one. She hadn’t realised how much she was looking forward to it—to seeing Nick, to helping him—until the opportunity was taken away from her.

“That’s nice of her,” Morgan said, knowing that she sounded frosty even if she desperately tried to fight it. “If you want to hang out with somebody who isn’t your mom, you have my number. I’ll let you go. It was nice to talk to you, Nick.”

She was inches from ending the call when Nick said, frantic and loud, “Wait—Morgan—”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for calling. It’s been four days, and it does fucking suck,” he admitted, quieter than he had been the entire rest of the phone call.

Morgan stared down at the melting ice pack on her knee. She said, quietly, “Call me if you need me, okay? Promise I’ll answer.”

Nick did call.

Morgan was so surprised, having fully expected him to just forget he had her number at all, that she answered her phone at her desk for the first time ever. In a hushed voice, speaking into the microphone of her headphones while staring at her screen and typing half-hearted emails to save as drafts for later editing to throw off the scent. He hadn’t questioned her simple responses or her hushed voice when he asked if she wanted to keep him company on Saturday, but he had sounded extremely pleased when she said she would.

When Nick sent her his address, she couldn’t help but laugh at how close he lived. She’d assumed he would live downtown, being young and without a family—a fifteen-minute walk had been even closer than she expected and also meant she could get away with minimal knee strapping and not the soft knee-brace she’d been thinking about.

Her entire body was taken over by a nervous buzzing as she knocked on the door—they were the same nerves she got on a first date which didn’t make much sense to her at all. The knock was a warning, only, as he’d told her the door would be unlocked because he wasn’t allowed to move and his mom was heading out. Morgan had to deal with the weirdness of walking directly into a new house.

A nice house.

A very nice house.

She called out to him and followed his voice to the living room where he was set up on the couch, his leg lifted up onto the coffee table just as hers had been when she spoke to him a few days prior. The set up looked a lot more precarious than hers had, with many more pillows around his leg and his body.

“Stop looking at me like that; I get enough of it from my mom.”

Morgan swiftly turned her pout into a smile, and her heart skipped a beat when Nick returned it. She had forgotten just how contagious his smile was—she’d always gotten caught up in the way his eyes crinkled behind his glasses.

She asked him if she could get him anything before she sat down, earning an immediate eyeroll and then, after a pause, he sheepishly asked if she could fill up his water bottle. She could still see him from the kitchen and followed his pointing to the cupboard with his glasses so she could get her own water—it was only a little disappointing that she couldn’t open every cabinet and snoop. She always wanted to know how different the lives of the rich were.

Morgan was careful when she sat down on the couch, careful to keep enough distance between them that she didn’t accidentally jostle his leg—he seemed to brace for it anyway.

“Why’d you reach out?” he asked, curiously. “You were the last person I expected a call from.”

She sighed, “When you got to Columbus at the end of the season, I was about six weeks out from ACL surgery and should have been at least able to walk without a knee brace but I wasn’t. So, I guess I kind of know what you’re going through.”

She pulled her good leg underneath her, shifting her body so that she was facing him, her cheek resting on the back of the couch.

“You didn’t want to put up with me while you were recovering?”

His question hurt, and the pull of his eyebrows hurt even more, adding to the pang in her chest that came with talking about her ACL out loud.

“I was way more worried about how big a bitch I was. I’d rather not be friends at all than have you hate me.”

It was clear that the I could never hate you was on the tip of Nick’s tongue—she didn’t know him all that well, but she was positive he’d never had a thought that wasn’t immediately clear on his face—but he didn’t say it.

“How’s your knee now? You should be pretty much normal?” he asked instead.

Her knee throbbed, but it was psychosomatic; it had been fine all morning because she hadn’t tried to go for a run in a few days. She still rubbed it to remove some of the ache.

She laughed, hopeless, a little wet. “No, but this isn’t my pity party.”

“We don’t do pity parties around here,” Nick said, even if his expression was still clearly laced with pity.

Though they might not do pity parties in the Blankenburg household, they did an excellent job at lounging around with injuries. Nick had already decided they were ordering take out for lunch and offered Morgan free rein of the remote and his Disney+ account.

Morgan didn’t know when she fell asleep—one minute she was seeing Bender and Fry on the television screen, and the next she was blinking her eyes open when she heard hushed voices speaking around her. She rushed to sit up straight, desperately trying to take in her surroundings and feeling her blood run cold when she realised that she was still in Nick’s apartment. It ran even colder when she heard Nick suck in a sharp breath and clutch at his thigh. A woman, who Morgan could only assume to be Nick’s mother, was standing at the edge of the couch, smiling at the two of them.

“Hi Morgan, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Uh, hi, Mrs Blanks—Blankenburg,” Morgan said, wishing she didn’t sound so obviously like she’d just woken up. She probably looked exactly the same—if she hadn’t imagined Nick’s hand in her hair then that probably looked disastrous.

“Mrs. Blanks works surprisingly well,” Nick’s mom said kindly, “but so does Karin.”

Morgan nodded, her cheeks burning, and she looked down at her hands that she’d folded in her lap.

“What do you kids feel like for dinner?”

“Oh, no,” she said, her head snapping up as she rose to feet. She ignored the ache caused by the awkward position she’d been in paired with the sudden standing. “I should get going. I didn’t mean to be here so late.”

“Are you leaving because you actually have to, dear, or because you think you’re being an imposition?”

Morgan turned back to Nick for help, for anything that would help get her out the door, only to be met with, “You can’t lie to my mom.”

“I was thinking we could have chicken casserole,” Karin said, politely ignoring Morgan’s hysterics, “if that makes you want to stay.”

Not wanting to come across as any ruder than she already may have, and also desperate for a good home cooked meal, Morgan sat down for dinner with Nick and his mom. Karin stressed that they usually ate at the dining table and that they were only on the couches because of Nick’s ankle. Morgan didn’t have the heart to tell Karin that she didn’t even own a dining table.

She didn’t want to stay too long after dinner, already feeling like she’d long overstayed her welcome, so Morgan helped clean up before quietly announcing that she better be heading off.

“Thank you for feeding me.” Morgan shuffled her feet as she stood near the door. “It was really great.”

“You’re more than welcome, dear. I’m sorry Nick ate what could have been your leftovers.”

“I’m sure he’ll make it up to me,” Morgan said, shooting Nick a smile. He smiled back from where he was twisted up on the couch so he could watch her leave.

She waved at him timidly.

When Morgan looked back at Karin, she was taken back by the open arms waiting for her. Karin didn’t allow any time for thought or excuses before she was wrapping Morgan in a hug.

Warmth filled Morgan immediately. She screwed her eyes shut and hugged Karin back, trying not to squeeze too tight. An ache in Morgan’s chest started to release—it didn’t disappear entirely, though she hadn’t even known it was there until it was starting to go.

Karin didn’t seem to be bothered by the pressure or how long it took Morgan to pull away.

“You come back any time, Morgan,” Karin said, pulling away only far enough to hold Morgan by her upper arms. “Nick could use the company of someone who isn’t his mother or someone on the team.”

Avoiding the invite to Thanksgiving Dinner had been a difficult task, even though Morgan hadn’t been able to get to Nick’s house in the four days between her visit and Thanksgiving.

Multiple phone calls and half a dozen texts solely about Thanksgiving had been directed at her in the four days since she last saw him because she’d been coy in telling him what her plans were—it felt rude to reject the invite when all she was doing was eating left over stir-fry and continuing her binge watch of Ink Masters. It just felt ruder to crash the Thanksgiving of a guy she’d just reconnected with and his mom.

Showing up at his house after work on the Friday was easily done, especially when Karin was ready with leftovers that Morgan devoured without hesitation. She got away with some sketchy explanations of her Thanksgiving plans and was grateful that Nick was ready to turn the conversation away from the questions.

Karin pottered around in the kitchen, warming the leftover apple pie and brewing hot chocolate to Nick’s protests that he couldn’t get out of shape just because he was injured to which she responded, “it’s Thanksgiving, Nicholas. The calories don’t count.”

There was hockey on the television, the Blue Jackets having tied it up against the Islanders. Nick was particularly excited about Kent Johnson’s first multi-point night. Morgan wasn’t unexcited by it—she was a hockey fan at heart and, though she was loathe to admit it, had been dubbed a Blue Jackets fan at birth before they’d even played their first game—but she was sure Nick’s friendship with Kent was responsible for how he was buzzing beside her on the couch.

Her own best friend from college—Taylah—had moved back to Spokane after graduation, and Morgan had moved to Columbus. It would be nice to be able to watch her accomplish her goals, even if it was on a television screen—the phone calls, Insta posts and Snapchats didn’t always cut it.

“You had an alright day yesterday?” Nick asked, seemingly out of nowhere, his voice quiet and his head lowered close to Morgan’s so that his mother didn’t hear.

“Yeah,” she assured him, leaning in, too, until her head was resting on his shoulder.

For having seen him twice since she graduated two years prior, the comfort and safety he provided was surprising. Her head on his shoulder was no more incriminating than falling asleep with her head in his lap and his hand in her hair, so she relaxed down into the couch, even closer to Nick, and didn’t so much as flinch when Karin returned with the cherry pie.

“Are you lying?” Nick asked gently.

“I’m a horrible liar,” she admitted.

Nick very quickly became the person Morgan spoke to most frequently. He had a lot of spare time and seemingly used it to text her a variety of memes, random updates or strange thoughts that had entered his head—she was having to consciously put her phone away in her desk drawer just to be certain she was getting work done.

Calling him as she walked home from work hadn’t even struck her as a weird thought until he was answering in a voice that was equal parts chipper and soft. Morgan could not be held responsible for the silent sigh that left her lips when she heard his voice.

“What can I do for you, Mo?”

“Your mom’s still staying at yours, right?”

“Yeah,” Nick said and Morgan knew there was a smile on his face, “she’s not leaving any time soon.”

“Can you invite me for dinner?”

“Tonight? Yeah, sure.”

Before she could tell him that it didn’t have to be that night—that, while she was ready to ask for an invite, she did not want to be an imposition—she heard shuffling, the tell-tale grunt that accompanied Nick pushing himself awkwardly off the couch. She tried to get his attention again but she didn’t think he had the phone anywhere near his ear because all she heard from him was his muffled talking to Karin.

“Are you gonna come straight from work?” he asked, shocking Morgan who hadn’t expected him to be talking to her again.

She glanced around her, working out exactly where she was, and nodded to herself. “Uh, yeah, I’m walking home now, so I can just detour to you.”

His excitement was contagious, and Morgan found herself smiling as she ended the call.

Nick was waiting at the door for her when she showed up, kneeling against the scooter he’d procured and leaning over the handlebar, scrolling through his phone. She questioned it, saying that she would still have come even if he’d been sitting on the couch since she called—Nick didn’t have time to respond, because as they moved further into his house, Karin commented that he was getting increasingly more excited to have company that wasn’t just her.

It wasn’t like he was housebound, was Morgan’s immediate thought, but a much stronger thought had been brewing on her walk, and she was desperate to get it out before she lost the nerve.

“Mrs. Blanks, could you teach me how to cook a few things?” Morgan asked with her hands wringing nervously behind her back. “I’m not horrible or anything, but some different dishes would be really great, and I’ve liked everything you’ve cooked.”

Karin’s smile was immediate, “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Nick only has one apron, unfortunately.”

“I don’t need an apron,” Morgan protested. “I’ve never used one.”

“But that’s such a pretty dress you’re wearing, I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to it.” Karin paused for only a brief moment before saying, “Nick, go get a shirt Morgan can wear as an apron.”

Without protest, Nick hobbled from the room on his crutches. Morgan stood in the kitchen and waited safely out of the splash zone, lest she get hit with anything and disappoint Karin by ruining her dress.

Her eye roll was immediate when Nick handed over a shirt with Columbus Blue Jackets emblazoned on the front. Even Karin sighed, “Nick, really?”

Morgan pulled it over her head and then gathered her hair into a low ponytail with the scrunchie on her wrist while Nick was defending the shirt choice by saying it didn’t matter if it was completely ruined because he could always get more.

He hobbled back to the chair they’d moved closer to the kitchen for him, and Morgan waited until she had his attention to smile and thank him. When she could see him again, he was staring at her with his mouth slightly agape. She tilted her head, curious as to what he was doing, only for Karin to get her attention and hand her a knife.

They were cooking a beef stew that Karin kept saying was easy—it just had to sit in the casserole dish on the stove for a few hours. Morgan had twitched at that, hoping it wasn’t noticeable; she didn’t want to be rude when she was being taught and fed for free. It was just that it was nearly six, and they’d only just started the preparation phase.

“This is for you to take home, Morgan,” Karin said, reading Morgan’s lack of subtlety. “We’ll do a cheat’s Bolognese sauce, and be eating before you know it.”

Morgan grimaced and accidentally made eye contact with Nick; she didn’t know how to handle his curiously soft expression.

Going for a run was not in Morgan’s knee’s best interest. It was, however, much needed for her mental health, so she laced up her trainers, put on her headphones and hit the sidewalk in the park at an unmaintainable pace.

The cool morning air bit at her face, but she inhaled it deep into her lungs and felt tension roll off her shoulders instantly. Not even the twinging in her knee was going to stop her, and she powered through it for what felt like aeons—the ten-minute mile she managed was enough to stop her dead in the middle of the path. It had been a decade since a ten-minute mile was an unmaintainable pace.

She stepped off the path just in time to avoid a collision with a man who was running at a much more reasonable pace. The ache in her knee wasn’t so much an ache as it was a sharp pain, a sure-fire sign that the run had been a mistake.

Crying in the park wasn’t an option; biting into the inside of her cheek was the only way she could manage to get through the new pain as she tried to hide her limp on the way back home.

[wyattjohnston]

need a little company - nick blankenburg

summary: morgan hasn't seen nick in years and her strongest memories of him are the crush he had on her in college. when he gets signed to columbus after years apart, morgan realises that maybe she should have given him a chance.

chapter word count: 700

n/a < table of contents > next

Living and working in Downtown Columbus hadn’t been Morgan’s goal as a kid growing up in Commercial Point, Ohio. She didn’t think she ever had much of a goal besides ‘Get Out of Commercial Point’, so at least she could tick that off her list.

Deciding to go out for dinner was an unwise decision for her bank account but not for her mental well-being, so she detoured on the way home from work—so much later than she should have been finishing—to her favourite Italian restaurant.

It had been a long time since Morgan felt embarrassed about dining alone, and the restaurant had come to expect it of her. She sat at a private little table at the back of the restaurant, ordered crab linguini, put in her earphones and opened up TikTok. It was the same as any other time before.

Except for what happened when she was walking out of the restaurant, and a hand wrapped around her wrist as she passed a table. She flinched, pulling her arm back to herself as she spun around, taking out an earphone as did.

“Morgan. Hey,” the guy who grabbed her wrist said, looking at least a little apologetic for having caught her attention in the way he had.

Morgan nodded and greeted him as she had done for the two years they’d run in similar circles: “Freshman.”

The guy he was with snorted out a laugh and earned himself a glare.

“I graduate in a couple weeks, you know,” ‘Freshman’ retorted, amused but happy. “You can probably call me something else by now. Blanks. Nick.”

The other guy at the table, who Morgan knew as Kent Johnson only because she was into hockey, excused himself, telling Morgan she could have the seat for a minute if she wanted—she stayed standing even if it meant having to step closer to the table every so often so that somebody could pass.

“So,” she said slowly to Nick, “did you follow me or the sick looking kid to Columbus?”

He looked back towards where Kent had disappeared to and laughed, before saying, “Neither. I got scouted.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, lowered her head and her voice so she could say, “Sorry it was to the shithole that is Ohio.”

“It’s not that bad,” he said, an all too familiar quirk at the corner of his mouth.

Morgan straightened up, uncrossed her arms and shrugged, “I suppose it might be okay if you live in the rich parts.”

Nick’s brow pulled together in confusion, and he played with his hands on top of the table before gesturing vaguely out the door to say, “I’m staying in a hotel near the arena.”

She wasn’t all that surprised. He’d be in Columbus for about two minutes before the season ended.

Kent re-joined them, his eyes flickering between the two of them as if he hadn’t expected Morgan to still be standing at the table.

“It was good to see you again, Freshman,” Morgan said to Nick before speaking to Kent, “and actual freshman. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

She was halfway to putting her earphone back in her ear when she saw Nick’s mouth open, so she kept it out to wait for him to speak.

“Do you want—” he cleared his throat. “We can hang out?”

It was easy to wish he hadn’t said anything at all. The hopeful look on his face made it difficult to even think about what she would say next. She just knew she had to say it.

“I don’t think so.” When his hopeful expression immediately disappeared, she tacked on, “Sorry. It’s not personal. I just—I can’t—It’s not a good time to let new people into my life.”

“I’m not new,” he argued, his laugh much sadder than she’d been expecting.

“Fresh—Nick—not right now.”

He nodded silently. Morgan nearly changed her mind right then and there but she held strong, putting her earphone back in her ear and finally getting out of the restaurant. On her way out, she tried not to kick out the stiffness in her knee until she was well out the door.

[wyattjohnston]

The Winter Fic Exchange 2k24

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after you’ve received your match (the person you’ll be writing for), you can then head into their inbox anonymously and really drill down into what your match would like to receive.

[doc-pickles]

homecoming | matthew tkachuk

summary: five times matthew came home to you from a roadie

warnings: lots of fluff, pregnancy, babies

a/n: hey hi hello! i’ve wanted to write for ratty for awhile and finally came up with this. hope y’all enjoy!

xoxo

nina

one.

You danced around your kitchen as you made dinner, your hips swinging to the music pouring from your speakers as you stirred the pasta on the stove. You loved cooking and you often found yourself getting lost singing to your favorite songs as you worked in the kitchen.

“And all the girls think that they’d be your partner,” you sang into your wooden spoon, your hips moving as you belted the words. “They’d be your partner! You’re so vain, you probably think this song is about you!”

A deep chuckle sounded behind you, making you drop your spoon as you spun around. Leaning against your entryway was your best friend Matthew Tkachuk, his sly grin plastered on his face as he smirked at you, “Don’t let me interrupt, you know I love Carly Simon.”

“Jesus you can’t scare me like that,” you gasped as you put your hand to your chest, only causing Matthew to laugh harder. “How did you even get in here? When did you get back?”

“You gave me a spare key months ago,” you watched as Matthew grabbed a paper towel and crouched down to grab your dropped spoon, wiping up the mess of sauce it left behind. “Got in an hour ago, wanted to see my favorite girl.”

You could feel the blush creeping up your cheeks as Matthew smirked at you. You’d been friends for a few years now and he never failed to pull that reaction out of you.

“I was just making dinner if you want to stay,” you offered, gesturing over your shoulder to the pasta and sauce you had going. “It’s pesto, your favorite.”

“Good thing I brought your favorite wine,” Matthew walked back to the entryway before reappearing with your favorite red wine and a bouquet of multicolored tulips. “And your favorite flowers.”

“Matty…,” your eyes widened in shock as you looked at your best friend who simply grinned at you. “What in the world are you doing?”

“Just trying to show my favorite girl how much I appreciate her,” Matthew smiled as he stepped closer to you, setting the wine and flowers on the counter before skating his arms around your waist. “I’ve been thinking about you all week. Couldn’t get you off my mind.”

Your heart was racing as you met Matthew’s eyes, his grip on your waist pulling you closer to him, “And what were you thinking about?”

“How you’re my best friend and how much I need you in my life,” Matthew’s voice dropped down to just above a whisper as he leaned his forehead against yours. “How much I want to kiss you, to stop calling you my best friend and start calling you my girlfriend. How much I love you….”

As soon as the word leaves Matthew’s lips you’re closing the short distance between the two of you, your lips pressed together as your fingers tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Only took you five years,” you grinned up at Matthew who in turn rolled his eyes before he leaned down to kiss you again. “And for the record… I love you too.”

two.

You’d had quite possibly the longest day at work ever. Between your boss being an absolute dick and your clients being snarky and rude you were ready to curl up in bed with a bottle of wine and a trashy rom com. And that didn’t even get into the traffic that had you coming home at an ungodly hour.

It didn’t help anything that Matthew was on the road right now and wasn’t due back until tomorrow. Your hands shook as you unlocked your apartment, the urge to call your best friend turned boyfriend so strong that you were shakily grabbing for your phone as you made your way inside.

Once you closed the door you leaned your head against the cool wood, heart hammering in your chest as you tried to hold back tears.

The attempt failed.

Your shoulders shook under the weight of your cries, your bag dropping to the floor as you cried to yourself in the doorway of your apartment. The weight of the day settled over you as your knees grew weak and you nearly dropped to the floor.

But you didn’t drop, instead a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and you gasped slightly as Matthew pulled you to his chest.

“Hey hey, it’s okay baby,” Matthew soothed as he held you close. “It’s alright, I got you.”

Your sobs continued as Matthew led you to the couch where he promptly sat down and held you close as you continued to cry. You sat in his embrace for a few minutes, letting him soothe you as you clung tightly to his shoulders.

“I thought you were supposed to be back tomorrow,” you sniffled as Matthew rubbed his hands across your back. “I thought-“

“I’m here now, that’s all that matters,” Matthew mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your hair. “What’s wrong baby? What can I do to help you?”

You relaxed slightly as Matthew held you, his body pressed so close you couldn’t help but take the comfort he was giving you.

“I just… It was a long day,” you sighed as you pressed impossibly closer. “It sucked and all I wanted was you and now you’re here.”

“Of course I’m here baby,” Matthew cooed as he pressed his lips to your temple. “I’ll always be here for my favorite girl. No matter what.”

Matthew held you through the night, eventually pulling you toward your bed and dressing you in your pajamas. He held you the whole night and when you woke in the morning with him pressed against you, you couldn’t remember why you were upset in the first place.

three.

It was late, but not late enough for you to have to explain why you weren’t asleep yet. Matthew was due home any minute now, and you were more excited than you would ever been. Even though the Panthers had lost in the semi finals for the Stanley Cup, you couldn’t hold back the grin that was threatening to split your face.

Matthew walked into your bedroom just shy of midnight. When he spotted you wearing his jersey and what looked to be little else his grin widened.

“Sorry you guys got knocked out,” you whispered as Matthew toed off his shoes and made his way toward you.

“S’okay. I have some fun plans for the off season I’ve been eager to get to,” he grinned as he began to unbutton his shirt, your eyes going straight to his toned chest.

“Like what?”

Matthew smirked as he removed his shirt and moved toward the bed. He grabbed your left hand and pressed a kiss to the ring that adorned your finger, “Like making my favorite girl my wife in a few weeks.”

“Twenty one days, seventeen hours, and twelve minutes but who’s counting,” you grinned as Matthew straddled your legs and pressed kisses to your cheeks. “Matty!”

“I’m sorry I only respond to ‘hubby’ now,” you laughed loudly as Matthew buried his face in your neck, lightly nipping at the skin. “God I love you baby.”

“I love you more, hubby.”

four.

It was nearly 3 AM but you couldn’t sleep. The other side of the bed was cold and Matthew would be home soon from a roadie out to California. Normally you wouldn’t stay up to wait for him, he’d usually slip into bed at some ungodly hour and wrap his body around yours. But he had taken a hard hit in his game against San Jose last night and you couldn’t stop worrying about him.

You heard the front door creak open then close quietly, Matthew’s footsteps echoing softly in the living room before he started up the stairs. It wasn’t long before he appeared in the doorway of your shared bedroom, heaving a sigh as he saw you were still up.

“I’m fine, baby,” Matthew tried to reassure you, but as you turned on the bedside lamp you let out a loud gasp. “It looks worse than it is.”

“You have a black eye and stitches, Matthew,” you threw the covers off, walking toward your husband. Once you stood in front of Matthew, his eyes avoiding yours, you cupped his face in your hands. “Jesus Matty…”

Matthew shrugged out of your hold, beginning to pull off his suit as you sat on the edge of the bed, “It’s fine, that fucker had it coming.”

“You can’t keep getting into stupid fights on the ice,” you warned as you crossed your arms under your breasts with a wince. You’d never been concerned about his on ice antics before, but it was different now. “I need you to come home in one piece.”

“I always do, don’t I,” Matthew scoffed but when he turned around he could see the tears shining in your eyes. “Baby it was one fight. I’m a hockey player, it’s what I do.”

You nodded and sniffled, wiping at your cheeks, “I know but… I can’t keep watching you put yourself on the line, I can’t keep worrying every time you’re playing that something horrible is going to happen.”

Matthew stepped towards you, his boxers hanging low on his hips as his shirt and pants had been abandoned behind him, “Hey, I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere okay? What’s really wrong, huh? You’ve never had a problem before.”

“I’m sorry I just-“

“Don’t apologize,” Matthew shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, you’re the most important person in my life, my favorite girl. I’m sorry I scared you.”

You nodded but sat in Matthew’s embrace for a few more minutes, letting his warm body soothe your anxiety.

“I’m gonna brush my teeth and I’ll be right back,” Matthew pressed another kiss to your forehead before tucking you into bed and heading for the bathroom. Your eyes had just closed when you heard him all but shriek. “Babe?”

Matthew reappeared in the doorway as you sat up, his eyes wide as he held up two plastic sticks. You grinned sheepishly as he looked from the tests to you, “I forgot they were in there. I was going to buy a tiny jersey and surprise you and-“

Before you could get another word out Matthew was across the room, pulling you into his arms as he peppered your face with kisses. You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you as he held you close.

“Fuck baby, I’m never getting in another fight ever again,” Matthew murmured as he pressed his face to your hair. “I’m never leaving again, I’ll only play home games and when the baby comes I’ll retire and-“

“Matthew,” you giggled as you pressed your hand to your husbands cheek. “You’re not retiring, you’re barely 30. And you’re not changing your schedule. Just be a little more careful, okay?”

With a nod Matthew settled into bed next to you, his hands instantly gravitating to your flat stomach. He sighed into your neck as he pulled you close, pressing a kiss to the warm skin, “I can’t believe we’re having a baby.”

“Me neither,” you smiled as you cuddled into his hold.

“I’m screwed if it’s a girl, aren’t I?”

“Absolutely.”

five.

“Riley get down from there before you bust your head open,” you sighed as your three year old daughter grinned at you from her place on the kitchen counter. “I’m so serious right now! When your dad gets home he’s going to be so mad!”

“Daddy!”

“Yes, daddy,” you crossed your arms over your swollen belly and fixed the toddler with a glare. “He’s not going to like that you’re not listening to mommy.”

“Daddy! Daddy!”

You sighed as you rubbed a hand over your face in exasperation. Being nine months pregnant and dealing with your daughter while Matthew was on a roadie was not easy. Riley had a wild streak that made her hard to handle on good days, but she always seemed to act up more when Matthew wasn’t around to help you.

“Riley Chantal I really hope you’re listening to your mama,” you whipped around and sighed in relief as you saw Matthew standing behind you. “Get off the counter.”

Riley scrambled off the counter as Matthew pulled you into a hug, your shoulders dropping as you let him hold you, “Thank god you’re here.”

“Missed my favorite girl,” Matthew murmured into your hair as he held you close, one hand coming down to cradle your baby bump. “How’s little man doing?”

“She’s doing fine,” you grinned as you watched Riley run toward her father. She wrapped her arms around his legs and Matthew broke away from you to lift Riley up. “You happy daddy’s home?”

Riley nodded as she looked up at Matthew, “Mimi is coming over!”

“Mimi Chantal?” Matthew questioned as Riley nodded her head. “Why’s she coming?”

“Cause mommy’s having a baby, duh,” Riley said the statement with an air of certainty as she looked at you. “Right mama?”

Matthew looked at you in confusion but you simply smiled as you’d settled a hand onto your belly, “My water broke half an hour ago.”

“And you didn’t call?!”

“I checked your location and made sure you were headed home,” you stepped around Matthew and gestured to the hospital bags by the door. “I was ready, been ready for a few weeks now.”

“Holy fuck-“

“Bad word daddy!” Riley shrieked as she slapped a hand over Matthew’s mouth.

“Sorry baby girl,” Matthew sighed as he kissed Riley’s cheek, watched as you leaned against the wall and closed your eyes. “Babe?”

“I’m fine,” you breathed out, eyes snapping open. “I’ve been having contractions all day.”

“Babe!”

The front door burst open just then as Chantal walked in, Riley immediately wiggling out of Matthews arms to run to her grandma.

“Matthew Brendan I really hope you’re not yelling at the woman who’s about to have your baby,” you chuckled at Chantal’s remark before another contraction hit you. You took a deep breath but struggled to hold back your groan as pain surged up your back.

Before you could say anything Matthew was at your side, rubbing your back and holding you close, “Okay let’s get going before you have this baby in the car.”

You straightened up and gave Riley a kiss before following Matthew out the door, accepting his help as you stepped up into the passenger seat of your SUV.

“Looks like I came home right on time,” Matthew grinned as he leaned across the console to kiss you.

“Don’t you always?”

[luvsherleafs]

Loved this mushiness!

[mendeshoney]

This can be just a blurb request for this concept i have in mind, where the reader is like a volunteer in one of the isles' organizations and barzy getting this "love at first sight" or meet cute situation 😉

(I know the gif below has Brock in it too but let's just focus on Barzy shall we?)

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard this many grown men have such high pitched voices in my life.” Your co-worker, Hannah, murmurs under her voice as she plays with a strand of her baby pink hair.

You can’t help but giggle, because it’s technically very true.

It had barely even been five minutes since multiple players from the New York Islanders had entered their locker room, and already, they were either sprawled out on the floor or sitting in their locker stalls, playing with the puppies and dogs brought specifically for the calendar shoot. Three of them had even asked for applications in the last minute or so, immediately looking to adopt.

You’d been a vet nurse at the Bayport Animal Society for a little over a year now, and it was your first time tagging along on one of their many “Puppy with a Purpose” events. This one in particular had been a huge buzz around the office for the past two months.

The Islanders’ organization wanted to do something different for their annual calendar and had decided to go with an “adopt don’t shop” campaign, and wanted to feature the dogs from Bayport Animal Society along with making a considerable donation to your job in exchange.

You nudged Hannah when one of your more rowdy puppies, Rocky, started chewing on the hem of one of the players’ jeans. “Looks like Rocky’s still teething.”

Hannah snorts. “At least he’s not pooping.”

A player sat a few feet away from you on the floor in front of one of the stalls, cuddling up with one of your favorite dogs, a Doberman named Brutus, who was fast asleep despite bouncing off the walls ten minutes earlier, resting his head in the player’s lap as he rubbed his belly in soothing circles.

The look on the player’s face as he stared down at Brutus said everything you needed to know - he was absolutely smitten, and one doggy snore away from signing the adoption papers. You’d thought of adopting Brutus yourself, since he was such a loving boy, but you worked too much, and didn’t want him to spend anymore time at the society than he already had.

Hoping to help your good boy seal the deal, you excused yourself from Hannah’s side and quietly approached the player, not wanting to wake Brutus.

“That’s Brutus,” you say gently, “He’s two, but he’s an absolute sweetheart. He’s everyone’s favorite at work, including mine, and he loves everyone he meets.”

“Yeah,” the player says, “I can tell. He’s been glued to my side since I came in, and I-”

The player looks up then, and when he does, you feel your heart skip a little.

He’s…well, he’s gorgeous is what he is. Like if Apollo suddenly came to life. His jawline is as sharp as marble, and his brown eyes are warm as he stares at you.

“I uh…” he starts. “I’m Mat.”

You nod a little, offering your name in return. “I’m one of the vet nurses at Bayport.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says, his eyes still focused on your face. His gaze unnerves you a little, unsure of what it is he sees, or what he’s thinking, so you offer a small smile, hoping to ease the sudden growing tension.

A tension that is cut quickly when one of the photographers for the shoot says “Can we clear the staff from Bayport so we can take a couple of quick photos?”

It snaps you both out of it, and you laugh nervously. “I um, I’ll leave you to it.” You say, before you’re backing away and returning to Hannah’s side.

When you approach her, she’s got a perfectly arched brow aimed in your direction. “Who is he?”

“Mat,” is all you can say. “He uh, might take Brutus home.”

Hannah smirks at something she sees behind you, then glances at you with a teasing smile as she tosses her baby pink hair over her shoulder. “My guess is that’s not all he wants to take home.”

~

“Who’s that bombshell?”

Mat’s head snaps to his right where Hudson is, trying to wrangle a puppy chewing on the hem of his jeans. He follows Hudson’s eyes to where you’re standing, and tries to tamp down the rage he feels when he realizes Hudson’s staring at your ass.

His hand flies out before he can think and swats Hudson on the arm. Hudson winces, shooting a rueful look at Mat. “The fuck was that for?”

“She works for Bayport you fuckin' toad, you’re supposed to be professional.”

Hudson frowns at Mat. “The one with the pink hair?”

Pink…hair?

Mat turns back to where you are, and to his surprise, he sees another woman beside you, with baby pink hair.

"Oh," Mat says, turning back to Hudson.

Hudson raises a brow. "Who did you think I was talking about?"

"No one," Mat shakes his head, looking back at Brutus. "My bad."

To be fair, he hadn’t even noticed the pink haired woman. He’d been way too busy staring at you. Hadn’t stopped staring at you since he finally tore his eyes away from Brutus.

The pup had walked straight up to him the second he came into the room and Mat instantly knew he probably wouldn’t be leaving today without adopting this dog, but he also couldn’t figure out why he’d been so drawn to the pup in the first place.

That is, until you said Brutus had been your favorite, and then Mat had torn his eyes away, fulling intending on asking more about him, and then he saw you, and everything just...stopped.

He didn't know how he didn't notice you the second he walked into the locker room, didn't understand how a woman so beautiful, so perfect, hadn't stolen his attention immediately, but he'd been beating himself up for it every second since laying his eyes on you for the first time.

It had already been fifteen minutes since you introduced yourself since he and some of the others had been dragged away to take pictures, and in Mat's opinion, that had been fifteen minutes too long that you'd been away from him.

He glances down to where Brutus lays beside him, chewing on the tennis ball Mat fished out of his stall, and scratches between his ears gently. "Hey boy, if I promise to take you home, can you help me out?"

Brutus' ears perk up and his head tilts at Mat, like he understood every single word, tennis ball still gently clutched between his teeth.

"Wanna help me get a date with your pretty friend?" Mat asks, and Brutus tilts his head in the other direction. "Well I'll take that as a yes, c'mon buddy."

When Mat stands, he's slightly surprised but pleased when Brutus also gets up and trots along side him, following him as Mat crosses the locker room over to where you and the pink haired woman Hudson was eyeing earlier are sitting.

As he approaches, you look up at him from under your lashes before you head lifts to gaze at him fully, and his heart begins to hammer uncontrollably.

"Hi again," he starts, and is cut off from finishing his sentence when Brutus stops in front of you and lowers his head for pats.

You laugh a bit, smiling at Mat. "Hi there. Having fun with Brutus?"

Almost as if he knows he's being discussed, Brutus adorably curls up between you and Mat on the floor, resting his head on your shoes and his tail on Mat's shoes.

"I am actually," Mat admits. "Pretty sure he's coming home with me."

"Just Brutus?" The girl with the pink hair says, and Mat watches in amusement as your eyes blow wide and and you elbow her in her side. Pink hair doesn't miss a beat, sticking her hand out to Mat and saying "I'm Hannah, her best friend and favorite co-worker."

"Mat," he responds, taking Hannah's hand and shaking it once. "Nice to meet you. And no actually, not just Brutus."

This time he laughs out loud at the matching shocked expressions on your faces, and he scratches his head nervously, realizing he could be swinging for the fences here. "I just mean...I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to come out so inappropriately."

"Don't apologize," Hannah says, nudging you in the side.

"I just meant, if you're not doing anything after this, I could use some help picking out some of Brutus' favorite things, since you know him a little better than I do."

"I mean..." You start, "Bayport gives you a basket of his things when you bring him home - ow!" You shoot a look at Hannah, who glances down at Brutus as though she didn't just elbow you in the ribs.

Mat smiles, taking it in stride. "Well in that case, how about dinner? I know a great place with a patio that allows dogs. It's pretty great, and I'm sure Brutus would love it, too."

There's a second where Mat can see you hesitate, and he mentally prepares himself for the impending heartbreak, can feel his heart start to pound in anticipation for a let down, but then you're smiling shyly, and nodding. "Yeah, I'd love that."

You'd love that.

Not like.

Love.

Mat's sure his smile stretches all the way across his face, and even Brutus perks up, looking up at you with something Mat is sure resembles happiness.

"Yeah? Okay, how about Thimble Island, tonight at six?"

"It's a date," you say, and the way you look at him when you say it has Mat certain of two things.

The first is that you were the reason Brutus came up to him, and the second?

He's pretty sure if this leads where he hopes it will, he'll give this dog anything in the world that he wants.

[wyattjohnston]

here we are! finally with the masterlist! all the thanks in the world to the 39 people who signed up for the exchange and the lovely D who came in as my saviour and wrote a pinch hitter fic without even being signed up

please read all the fics below, so much love and care was put into them and they all deserve your attention. a reblog if you can would also be incredible.

please respect all warnings at the beginning of fics. if a fic has been marked as smut or 18+ and you are younger than, do the right thing and do not read it.

keep your eye out for the winter fic exchange 2k24 sign up post. if you want me to let you know when it's happening you can click here.

the summer fic exchange 2k24 masterlist

Buffalo Sabres

Jeff Skinner

gotta trust how you feel inside by @laurenairay for @ nhl-stories

Tyson Jost

i should've fought harder by @butgilinsky for @ typical-simplelove

a Devon Levi fic was written by @waysicouldhave for @ jackhues but they have since deactivated.

Carolina Hurricanes

Andrei Svechnikov

Every Summer Has a Story by @comphy-and-cozy for @teokka

HATE HATE HATE by @luvmmarner for @ comphy-and-cozy this is a multi-chaptered fic, so keep an eye on it!

How Long? by @lifeofpriya for @ luvmmarner

Colorado Avalanche

Cale Makar

all's well that end's well to end up with you by @fallinallincurls for @ ya-pucking-nerd

i've found love (and all that goes with it) by @huttons for @ fallinallincurls

Mikko Rantanen

Do That by @selfindulgentpoorlywritten for @ kurlyteuvo

Nathan MacKinnon

It Starts With a Cookie by @luvsherleafs for @ princessphilly

Dallas Stars

Jake Oettinger

taking on the world together by @laurenairay for @ jarmorie

Los Angeles Kings

Pierre-Luc Dubois

as the seasons change by @gravestrain for @ bqstqnbruin

Minnesota Wild

Marc-André Fleury

Genève by @teokka for @ callsign-denmark

Montreal Canadiens

Juraj Slafkovsky

If I Say It, Will You Respond? by @puckmaidens for @ 2manytabsopen

Nashville Predators

Tyson Barrie

simple by @jxmieoleksiaks for @ laurenairay

New Jersey Devils

Dougie Hamilton

hydrangeas where your face should be by @nhl-stories for @ huttons

Jack Hughes

make it weird by @wyattjohnston for @ torontoflames

something in the way she moves by @miracleonice87 for @ wyattjohnston

Nico Hischier

See You Again by @bqstqnbruin for @ selfindulgentpoorlywritten

Underneath the Stars by @buttercupjosh for @ ilyasorokinn

Timo Meier

Sweet Like Cinnamon by @wildrangers for @ matthewtkachuk

New York Islanders

Ilya Sorokin

Polaroid Dreams by @kurlyteuvo for @ lifeofpriya

Mat Barzal

Alone With You by @cellythefloshie for @ miracleonice87

Disney Magic by @lam-ila for @ tinyhockey

tell me why by @torontoflames for @ luvsherleafs

where you lead i will follow by @ilyasorokinn for @prettytoxicrevolver

Pittsburgh Penguins

Sidney Crosby

Triple Axle Celly by @callsign-denmark for @ starshine-hockey-girl

Ryan Graves

a lake house story by @ya-pucking-nerd for @ thomasschabot

Seattle Kraken

Jamie Oleksiak

to the ends of the earth by @jarmorie for @ laurenairay

Tampa Bay Lightning

Brayden Point

one day all my love will come back to me by @matthewtkachuk for @ senditcolton

Toronto Maple Leafs

Matthew Knies

being a good man by @pcttymcrlecu for @ gravestrain

Vancouver Canucks

Anthony Beauvillier

Alone With You by @cellythefloshie for @ miracleonice87

Quinn Hughes

i can still see it all by @ghostyjosty (jostystyles) for @ wildrangers

mango dragon refresher by @jackhues for @ lam-ila

saw you in a dream by @thomasschabot for @ puckmaidens

Surprise Party by @prettytoxicrevolver for @ ghostyjosty

Vegas Golden Knights

Nolan Patrick

Soothing Swedish Summers by @2manytabsopen for @ waysicouldhave

Winnipeg Jets

Adam Lowry

breakable heaven by @senditcolton for @ cellythefloshie

there is still one more fic to post. i'm writing it, hence why this is coming out before it's up :)

i am slowly making my own way through reading all the fics--if i haven't read yours and you want to make sure i don't forget, please send it to me.

if the person you wrote for hasn't read and reblogged your fic, please tell me.

[luvsherleafs]

It Starts With a Cookie

This is my entry for the Summer Fic Exchange organized by @wyattjohnston. She does a fabulous job organizing these exchanges that we all enjoy. I hope you enjoy this @princessphilly. Nate is always a favourite and this was kinda different for me. Thanks to @puckngrind for keeping me motivated and suggesting Nate fall first. Enjoy!

Cassie O’Neil knew when the Zadorov interview came out saying that Nathan MacKinnon was very much like Michael Jordan and could be a jerk to his teammates on ice and off, and that he was militant about food - it was going to cause some problems.  And when the cute little social media girl had stopped posting the menu from the plane that always had cookies on it, it was taken as validation of the theory that he had banned sodas, sugar and normal food on the plane for his teammates.

And Nate’s attempt to get everyone to eat healthier so they played better was shot down the first time they went to Buffalo and he suggested there shouldn’t be wings from the Anchor bar brought onboard for their short flight to Montreal.  No matter how much the guys were willing to follow the leader, you do not mess with Erik getting the best wings in the world while in Buffalo. That would have been grounds for being pushed off the plane while over Lake Ontario.

It really came to a head, when after a rough game, with Cassie trying to get treatments done while they were in the air leaving no time for her to actually grab dinner, that Nate pushed his luck.  As she grabbed a cookie and moved to head back to check on Bowen, Nate stepped in front of her and tried to take the cookie.

“As a member of the training staff, you should be eating something better than a cookie,” Nate growled at her, going to grab the cookie.  Everyone around them stopped.

“Touch the cookie Nate Dawg,” Cassie warned, “And you will find out how life on LTIR is when I break your hand after I punch you in the nose.”  

There was a brief stare off, while they both held an edge of the cookie.  When Nate didn’t let go, her eyes narrowed.

“You really should be nicer to the person who is about to have you on a med table and who hasn’t had time nor has the time to eat a full dinner because you idiots keep jumping in front of pucks, tripping on your non-existent toe picks, and slamming into huge dudes just as miserable as you are compacting bones in unnatural ways.  If I want a chocolate chip cookie, I will have a damn chocolate chip cookie,” she ended on a bellow.

By this time, Cale and Gabe had moved beside Cassie and Nate, Cale slowly moving towards Cassie while Gabe moved towards Nate.

“Just let go of the cookie, Nate,” Gabe said soothingly.  “Please don’t mess with the physical therapist who can hurt you in many torturous ways all while assuring you it has to hurt before it gets better.” Gabe slowly raised his hand towards Nate’s, hoping the dumbass would just let go of the cookie before he had to make him let go.

“Cassie, he’s going to let go of the cookie.  Or I can get you a new cookie,” Cale tried to calm her down.  She side eyed Cale and saw Devon hand him another cookie, which he held out to her.  Her eyes flicked back to Nate, before she took the offered cookie from Cale, while snapping the one Nate held in two.

And when Nate’s jaw dropped at what she’d done, she shoved the partial cookie in his mouth, closing her hand over it, before saying, “Eat the damn cookie.  Life’s too short to not eat the damn cookie!”  Before pushing past him towards the back of the plane.  

There was stunned silence for ten seconds, before Erik drawled, “How’s the cookie?” to Nate, causing everyone to start laughing.  

“She’s a menace,” Nate said around the mouthful of cookie, before he actually chewed and swallowed. 

“You only think that because everyone else lets you get away with being a dick,” Gabe retorted.  “And you may finally have met your match.”

********

For weeks after the cookie incident, Nate and Cassie kept their distance.  She would tend to let one of the other trainers look after him unless she had no other choice.  While Nate realized he’d been an ass about the cookie, not realizing how busy she had been with no chance of actually grabbing dinner, he also thought avoiding Cassie was the best plan.  While Cogs and Gabe tried to convince him to apologize, Nate thought dropping the subject would be a better idea.  And if he made sure that there were quick healthy snacks and fruit always there for the training staff, that was something no one needed to know.  

On what should have been just another regular Wednesday night in January where the Bruins were in town and you were hoping for two points - all hell broke out.  Cassie was just making her way up the tunnel to the bench at the start of the game, when Taylor Hall train wrecked Nate clearing the Avs zone.  Cassie watched Nate drop and then she saw all the blood and knew he was in trouble. 

“Jimmy, prep the room with towels, ice packs, saline and gauze,” she called to the training intern.  She watched as the other staff trainer was on the ice with Nate, trying to assess what was happening while Gabe was barking at Hall beside her.  She grabbed one of the ipads, to get the replay to see if she could get a better look at the hit.  

‘Dammit,” she muttered, when she saw it was the stick that clipped him hard.  “Get Doc down to the room please,” she asked over the headset.  She glanced to see that they had Nate up and he was heading to the bench, bitching the whole way.  She headed down to the room, making sure with a glance everything was ready while she pulled on gloves and waited.  

“Let’s get him on the table,” she guided him in and onto the table. “Jimmy, ice pack on the back of his neck,” she directed, moving to switch out the towel on his face, with a cool, wet one, wiping more blood away to get a better look, while having him hold gauze pads to his nose to catch the blood still pouring out.

“Scale of one to ten, where are you pain wise?” she asked, gently prodding him along his cheeks.

“Eight, fuck!  That fucking hurt,” he bellowed when she got close to his nose.  

“Stop whining,” she tossed back at him, slathering cool gel around his eyes and cheeks to try and minimize the swelling in case Doc wanted scans.

“What do we have, Cassie?” Doc asked, coming up to Nate.

“Broken nose for sure.  I think we’re gonna need scans because there might be a cheek fracture on the right side,” she detailed, moving to the side and sliding her hand over Nate’s as Doc checked him out.  Nate groaned and squeezed her hand when Doc checked his nose.

“Definitely need to see the damage to the septum,” Doc said quietly.  “Nate, we’re gonna get you changed and to the hospital for some scans. You might need surgery to fix this.”

“Fuck,” Nate swore loudly, as Doc went to call the hospital prepping them for Nate’s arrival.  

“Hey, it’s fixable,” Cassie said quietly.  “Let’s get you undressed, to the hospital and they’ll get you back on the ice in no time.”

Late that night, after another long game day, Cassie drove to the hospital to check on Nate.  She winced when she saw the scans, seeing they were going to have to repair Nate’s septum so he could breathe normally.  And Nate didn’t know that Cassie had sat by his bedside after the surgery so that he wasn’t alone until his Mom arrived.  But when he woke up, there was a bakery bag with a note.

"I'm a quite yummy gluten free chocolate chip cookie. And life's too short to not eat the cookie."

His Mom didn't say anything about the smile on his face as he ate the cookie.

********************

For the next few weeks, there was a truce between Nate and Cassie.  He missed some games and didn't get to play in the All Star game in Vegas after the surgery, but otherwise was healing normally. The team headed out on the road, and an otherwise normal night in frigid Minnesota,  the truce ended in spectacular fashion.

Matt Dumba hit Mikko as he entered the Wild zone, Mikko bouncing back up and carrying on, when Nate challenged Dumba to a fight.  Cassie watched in disbelief as Nate, fresh off the concussion and nose repair exchanged punches with the scrappy Dumba.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Cassie muttered, apparently loud enough for Coach Bednar to hear.

"Good question," he responded, watching the shenanigans with that not exactly happy coach face.

Cassie watched as Nate was escorted to the box, apparently none the worse for the fight.  But post game, after being reamed out by his coach, Nate sheepishly approached Cassie in the treatment room.

"Cass," he started.  She glanced up and then her eyes went wide when all she saw was Nate’s bare chest, before realizing he was holding up his hand.  "I think somethings wrong," he said.

She saw the swollen fingers, the bruises starting to come out on his hand and then the discoloration on his shoulder and shook her head in disbelief.

"You think something is wrong?" She muttered.   He nodded at her.  "You THINK something is wrong?" Her volume raised, as Nate shut the door.

"What gave it away, Nate?  When you decided just weeks after recovering from a concussion and nose surgery that it was a good idea to get in a fight?  Was that it? Or is it the fact that right now it looks like you've dislocated your shoulder and maybe fractured your hand?" She turned and pushed him onto the chair.

He followed her directions while she moved his shoulder, feeling how the muscles and tendons moved.  She tested the arm thoroughly and then moved to grab an ice pack to put on his hand.

“I need to go talk to Coach Bednar,” she told Nate, moving towards the door.  She didn’t realize he’d moved behind her until he reached over her to slam the door shut, his body pressed up behind her.

“Cass, what are you going to tell him?” Nate asked nervously.

“You have a sprained shoulder and until I get x-rays to confirm a possible hand fracture,” she responded.  “And I’m not signing off on you playing.”

“What the fuck,” Nate exclaimed.  “Cass, you can’t do that.”

“It’s my job to do that,” she countered, spinning around and finding herself facing a semi-naked and irate Nate right in her face.  “Back up, Nate,” she demanded.  The tension could have been cut by a knife as they stared at each other, waiting for the other to back down.

“You are so infuriating,” he bit out.  

“Tough shit,” she responded.  “My job is to protect you….” is as far as she got before Nate’s hand cupped the back of her head as he lips slammed into hers. Apparently her lips were all on board as her mind screamed not to kiss him back.  Who knows what would have happened if there hadn’t been a knock on the door and the handle started to twist. Nate jumped back, a look of shocked surprise on his face, while Cassie spun back to the door, to see Gabe poking his head in.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his head swinging between the two of them.

“Yes,”stated Nate at the same time Cassie said “No”.

“I need to talk to Coach Bednar,” Cassie said, pushing past Gabe.

“Cassie,” Nate called, but she didn’t turn around.  “Well, shit.”

“Nate, what’s going on?” Gabe asked him, noticing the bruising starting to appear on Nate’s arm.

“I fucked up,” he muttered.  “There’s something wrong with my shoulder and hand. She’s not going to let me play,” he paused.  “And I may have kissed her”

Gabe blinked several times trying to process that information.  “Okay.  She’s a little pissed at you getting in that fight,” Gabe agreed.  “As am I and the coaching staff,” he eyed him.  “And you kissed her?  You do nothing but complain what a hard-ass she is and you decided kissing her was the way to go?”  Gabe hissed at him.  “What were you thinking?”

“That I needed to shut her up for a minute so I could get her to not bench me,” Nate sighed.  “And that she looked so damn adorable when she was mad at me,”  he looked up at Gabe.  “I know, I know, not my finest moment.”

Before Gabe could respond, Coach Bednar is striding into the room, anger coming off him in waves.

“You are going back to Denver for proper assessment and treatment,” he started.  “And the only way you are going to be allowed back on the ice is if Cassie approves it.  No discussion.”  He walked out of the room, leaving a frustrated Nate staring after him.

“I’m sure this is going to be fascinating to watch,” Gabe laughed, walking out to tell the boys how much of an idiot Nate has been and to start the betting pool on when Cassie would kill him.

********

Cassie was giving Jimmy, her intern, all kinds of instructions which he was frantically noting on his IPad as she was pulling her bag off the bus the guys were taking to their charter flight to Calgary.  She wasn’t happy about having to fly back to Denver with Nate, but when the Coach and GM ask you to do something, you do it.  They didn’t know that she still hadn’t processed the fact that Nate had kissed her or that she had no idea what that meant.  Was it just a heat of the moment, he-man show of dominance?  Or was there something else to it?  Damned if she knew.

“Just call me if you have any questions,” she said to Jimmy when he looked a little panicked. “You’re going to be great.  You do this stuff all the time with me and I have no doubt you are going to rock this.”

“Thanks, Cassie.  You’re a great teacher,” Jimmy said, then turned when one of the other trainers called for help, waving to Cassie before jogging over to help load equipment.

Cassie sighed, before turning to look for sure to be grumpy Nate.  He was no doubt not happy being sent home and she was sure he was not going to be happy he had to get her to sign off on him playing again.  She spotted him huddled with Gabe and Cogs in what looked like a heated conversation.   

"Come on, Princess," she called, walking up to them.  "Say goodbye to the guys, we have a plane to catch."

“Princess?  I’m a Princess?” Nate growled.

“Would you prefer Diva?” Cassie asked calmly.  She waited for an answer, watching his mouth open and close, while there were snorts from the guys.  “Nate, I’m tired and we have a plane to catch that isn’t going to our next game but home because you had a moment and here we are.”  She turned to the guys.  “Have a good game guys, play smart and I’ll see you in a few days.”

Sliding the strap of her carryon bag over the handle of her suitcase, she started walking to the car that was waiting for them, knowing Nate could catch up to her in no time once he snapped out of his little pouty moment.  And he did, the two of them continuing to head to the car that would get them to the main airport.  After several minutes, Nate sighed and then turned his head towards her.

“I’m sorry, Cassie,” he said softly.  

“For what?” Cassie asked.  “Being the reason we’re heading home before everyone else?  Or for being an idiot and getting into a fight after just having your nose repaired?” Nate blinked when he realized she had said nothing about the kiss.  Interesting.

“All of it,” he said.  “Are you going to let me play?”

“Not until I know what all the tests say.  We have x-rays first thing tomorrow morning.  Doc set it up, so buckle up, Buttercup, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together over the next few days.”  

*******

Cassie hadn’t been kidding - they spent nearly the next twenty four hours either together or connected via text message.  She had fallen asleep on the plane, and somehow so had Nate despite him being uncomfortable.  He woke before her to find her snuggled into his side, using him as a pillow.  He smiled softly, thinking maybe she didn’t hate him as much as it seemed.  He said nothing when she woke up and proceeded to check his shoulder.  Then it was off to the hospital for x-rays - he was beginning to hate this building having spent so much time in it over the last month.  

Nate came out of the treatment room and saw Cassie standing in front of the nurses station, reviewing the scans and x-rays, a small frown between her eyes.  He watched as she flipped between them, stopping to zoom into one before moving to the next.  He wasn’t sure what to think when she sighed and stood looking into the distance.  He gave her another minute before he walked over to her, standing behind her to get a peek at the x-rays.

“Well?” he asked quietly.

“Your hand isn’t broken, but there is a chip in your middle finger.  And you sprained your shoulder,” she answered.  He nodded, waiting to hear her verdict.  “I need to call Bednar,” she grabbed her phone.  Nate clamped his hand over hers holding the phone.

“Cassie, don’t leave me hanging.  Are you going to let me play?” Nate’s voice had a slight plea to it.

Cassie looked up at him, seeing his worry.  She really could mess with him here - which he kinda deserved after being stupid enough to get in the fight, but something stopped her.

“I’m recommending a couple of days PT, and then we will reassess.” she nodded at the x-ray of the hand.  “I’m a little worried about that chip and how you will be able to grip your stick.  The main PT will be to keep your shoulder moving and loose while it heals.”  She looked back up at him.  “I’m not letting you on the ice for at least a week.”

“Text me the PT schedule,” he said, before turning and heading to the exit.  He knew there was no way he could argue with her because Bednar had given her all the power.  And if he yelled in frustration when he got home, no one knew or heard.

*********

Cassie was on the treadmill at the Avs facility, trying to release some of the stress that had been mounting for weeks.  Yes, she realized that the biggest source of her stress was a large, blond, ridiculously hot center and a situation that she didn’t seem to have any control over.  She wasn’t sure what to think about that kiss that kept replaying over and over in her head.  What did it mean?  Why hadn’t he said anything?  And because he hadn’t brought it up, she wasn’t bringing it up either.  She knew that wasn’t the healthiest but so be it.

She was so deep in her head that she hadn’t noticed that Nate had come in and was on the treadmill beside her.  She barely registered the beeping telling her she was starting to cool down after having done five miles without actually realizing she had.  It took hearing Gabe’s voice asking Nate a question to pop her back into reality.  She quickly wiped down the equipment before heading to her office to prep for the day.   Today was the day for Nate’s reassessment and she was so ready for this period of anxiety to be over.

Coach Bednar was discussing Nate’s progress with Cassie when Nate walked into the treatment room.  He stripped off his sweatshirt and jumped up on the table, waiting for Cassie.  He was pretty confident that she was going to clear him. He had followed everything she had given him to do or not do - including no ice time or weight room.  Other than the treadmill, he hadn’t had much of an outlet for his frustration.  The positive was that his cardio was incredible.

“Okay, let’s get started,” Cassie had snapped gloves on and walked over to Nate.  She started with checking the range of motion in the shoulder - watching for any reaction from Nate and feeling the movements through her hands.  After twenty minutes, she handed him a stick and told him to grip it, first bare handed and then with gloves on.  Coach watched and when Cassie gave him a nod, he patted Nate on the shoulder and stated, “See you on the ice,” before leaving the room.

“You’re good to go,” Cassie advised when Nate didn’t leave.  He nodded, not sure whether he should say anything.

“Cassie?” he said quietly, waiting for her to look up at him.  She hadn’t noticed him coming up behind her until she turned and he was right there in all his shirtless glory.  How did he do that?  Sneaky ninja skills. His eyes searched her face, as she waited for him to continue.  Cassie realized she was going to miss Nate, miss having her hands on all that muscle, now that he’d been cleared to play.  She wasn’t sure what he’d seen, but as he made to take a step back, she hooked a foot behind his knee and pulled him forward, knocking him off balance, his hands slamming into the counter on either side of Cassie for balance.  The surprise on his face was nothing to the shock that appeared when she said, “I think you should kiss me again.”

She reached to pull his mouth to hers, which shook Nate out of his surprise and his hands gripped her hips and lifted her onto the counter as his lips crashed into hers.  It was all hunger and pent up longing in one glorious sweep of his tongue dancing with hers. A crash in the hall had them pulling apart, eyes locked.

“You need to get ready for practice,” Cassie whispered.

“This isn’t over,” Nate answered, dipping his head to softly bring his lips to hers.  “Not by a long shot.  Have dinner with me tonight?” he asked, forehead meeting hers while he waited for her answer.  She nodded, giving him a quick peck before pushing him back.

“Get out of here and get ready for practice Hot Shot,” she told him, turning to clean the table he’d been sitting on.  “And don’t block any pucks,” she called as he went through the door.  She heard his laugh as he went to get changed for practice.

*******

Cassie and Nate kept their dating a secret for all of two weeks, when Cale of all people caught them.  Poor guy, all he had wanted was to make sure there wasn’t any damage from blocking a puck, when he opened the door, asking Cassie for help and then stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Nate sneaking a kiss.  He backed out of the room, hitting Erik who then let everyone know that he’d called it and to pay up.

“This is all your fault, Hot Shot,” Cassie shook her finger at Nate, who promptly sucked it into his mouth before she poked him.  “We’ll keep it on the down low he said until we’re ready to tell them,” she mocked.

“You weren’t very covert,” Cogs said loudly.  “I saw Nate sneaking into your room in Dallas.”

“And Maddie and I saw you holding hands leaving the restaurant last Saturday,” NAK confirmed.

“Not to mention he brought her a cookie before the game,” Bo added, causing Cassie to groan and bury her head in Nate’s chest.  They were never going to live this down.

“Fine,” Nate glared at them.  “You all told me what an amazing girl she was and I needed to stop fighting with her.  I just took all of your advice.”

Gabe looked at Erik, and then back at Nate.  “Cassie, promise me you will still be on his ass all the time for his stupid shit.”  Cassie’s eyes widened in surprise.

“He may be a good kisser, Gabe, but I’m gonna keep calling him out on his dumb shit,” Cassie answered him with a nod.  Nate pinched her and she kicked him in the shin. 

“Heaven help us,” Gabe snorted, turning back to getting changed.  The others followed him, sly grins on their faces.

Cassie kept her word to Gabe.  For the rest of the season and into the playoffs, she called Nate out whenever it was needed.  When he blocked a puck and kept saying he was fine until she saw the bruising and he knew he was in for it when she very deliberately pressed her finger into the center of the bruise until he groaned.  He made sure she remembered to eat while she took care of all the injuries.  He’d been there when she was exhausted after spending the night in the hospital when Naz had his surgery, Cassie insisting she needed to get to the rink and make sure everyone else was fine - taking her home and using his kissing skills to relax her enough to pass out.

On an incredible June night in Tampa, when the clock wound down and they won the Stanley Cup, Cassie had watched with tears in her eyes as Nate hoisted the Cup. They’d finally won something.

During a summer of never-ending Cup celebrations,  Cassie was kept busy keeping track of everyone’s rehab.  The next season was the hardest season for her,  with pretty much everyone getting injured, including not the best patient Nate, at least once.  She considered wrapping Mikko in bubble wrap at one point as he was one of the few who hadn’t missed time with something.  Nate subtly made sure Cassie was taking care of herself during all of it, from making sure she ate to dragging her away from the rink for some relaxation.

The disappointment of getting knocked out in the first round was strong, but after the short summer and all the injuries, it was maybe a blessing.  There was a lot of healing that needed to happen.  And there was always next season.

And on a quiet night in July, just before Cassie and Nate were set to head to British Columbia and Tyson’s wedding, Cassie was sitting on the dock, enjoying the quiet.  She laughed when Knox stuck his face in her lap with big eyes begging for some loving.

“You are a very needy dog, just like your Daddy,” she was scratching his ears with a smile on her face, knowing Nate was behind her.

“Hey, I am not that needy,” Nate argued, setting a tray on the table.  “I brought you a snack,” he dropped a kiss to her forehead and waited.  

Cassie glanced at the tray and did a doubletake. On a very pretty china plate was a huge chocolate chip cookie with a message - Marry Me.  Her eyes flew to Nate, who was on one knee with a ring between his fingers.

“It seemed fitting as it all started with a cookie,” he smiled.  “And a very wise woman once told me that life is too short to not enjoy the cookies.”  She rolled her eyes, before leaning forward and kissing him.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she answered, Nate sliding the ring on her finger.  “But I’m not sharing the cookie.”  Nate started laughing, hauling her up and into his arms.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” he said before sealing the deal with a kiss.

[torontoflames]

tell me why - m. barzal

A/N: this was written for the lovely @luvsherleafs​ for @wyattjohnston​‘s 2023 summer fic exchange! i am so sorry for the wait on this one, i have been in and out of the doctor for the past month, but i am so so proud of how this one turned out. i can only hope it was worth the extra wait. 🫶

summary: things between you and mat started off on the wrong foot, but he continues to take you by surprise in making it up to you. in more ways than one.

word count: 2.6k

inspired by tell me why by taylor swift.

warnings: mentions of drinking, allusions to sex, minors dni.

“Well you could write a book on how to ruin someone’s perfect day. Well, I get so confused and frustrated, forget what I’m tryin’ to say.”

When you first laid eyes on Mat Barzal, you couldn’t lie, you found him attractive. Very attractive.

But then, almost comically so, he opened his mouth and that feeling had dissipated far too quickly for his sharp looks to have even mattered. Alas, you had found the entirely infamous and all-too-common dealbreaker, something most girls lovingly referred to as “the ick.”

It all started when your best friend Maddy had volunteered the two of you to go on a double date with herself and her boyfriend Oliver. You didn’t mind that she dragged you along to the bowling alley you had agreed to meet at, but that quickly changed once you met Oliver’s teammate.

Maybe it was the way the bowling shoes resembled those of which belonged to clowns that had you tripping over your own two feet. It didn’t help that you were a natural born klutz.

“I see I have you falling head over heels already,” Mat smirked.

Maddy, sensing you would take that as a challenge, comes up with a response before you can even think of one, “Pump the brakes, Barzy, let’s not act like you both have perfect dating track records here.”

“Obviously,” you rolled your eyes, “or else we wouldn’t be here.”

As soon as the words moved past your lips, he noticeably relaxed, “So you don’t want to be here either?” You hated how he immediately placed that feeling upon you. Even if you weren’t necessarily looking for a romantic connection, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t a girl who deserves some effort.

Quickly brushing those feelings of self-consciousness off, you found a response to his question, “Believe it or not, there are plenty of places I would rather be on a Saturday afternoon than a dimly lit bowling alley that smells like cat pee.”

You couldn’t help but admire how he threw his head back in laughter at your comment. However, it only took a second before shaking yourself out of it, deciding you needed to find more reasons to justify liking him beyond his looks.

Then, you remembered how Maddy had referred to him just a minute earlier, and it definitely wasn’t his first name. “Also…” you trailed off for a second, trying to remember what it was, “Barzy?” you questioned, wanting to know what that whole nickname was about.

“My last name is Barzal,” he shrugged, “It’s a hockey nickname.”

Of course it was.

The bowling alley “date” — if you will— was awful. Definitely not something to write home to your mother about. He was a showoff… and you were the kind of person who needed bowling bumpers.

You couldn’t stand how he had to be great at everything. Over the next few months, you would run into each other at various social events, and there would always be some sort of competition between the two of you. He never let you win once. He would beat you at pong, beat you in darts, even trivia night (you caught him googling answers at one point). It was beyond infuriating.

Tonight, it was Maddy’s birthday party, in your apartment, and a game of flip cup was initated by someone from the Islanders crew. Although it was a team game, it was certainly no coincidence that you and Mat were put in charge of opposing sides. It wasn’t a secret to anyone in the room that you had a nasty losing streak against Mat, and try as they may, their effort to help you didn’t change tonight’s outcome. You lost big time, but this time, it was Oliver’s fault.

“Still can’t find it in ya to win, can ya?” Mat gloated, getting up close and personal. You could smell on his breath that he had more than just a couple drinks in his system.

You scoffed, “I didn’t even get the chance to drink and flip the damn thing, if you’re gonna brag, go to your buddy Oliver over there,” you pointed over your shoulder at the guilty suspect.

“Excuses, excuses,” he smirked, continuing to poke the bear. He was well aware of the effect his winning streak had over you.

This time, however, you had absolutely had it with him, “What’s so wrong with letting me feel like I’m good at something for once?”

He put his hands up in mock surrender, “Chill, it’s just a game.”

You brought your hand up to your face, pinching your brow in an attempt to collect yourself, “Of course, you,” you gestured to him up and down, “a man, would say that. If it’s just a game, why cheat at bar trivia?” You knew you had struck a nerve, watching his eyes widen, now knowing that you had caught him using his phone that one night, “It must be so ‘chill’ to make a girl feel small, to make her feel inadequate.”

He had the audacity to look confused at your statement, “Woah, I don’t think that at all.”

“So, you just think it’s funny to make me mad, see me waste energy on something that is just a game to you? You’re right, that’s hilarious. Congrats on your flipping victory, Mathew.” You brushed past him, storming off to your apartment’s kitchen to get some peace and quiet… and a new drink.

As you leaned against the countertop, taking deep breaths to steady yourself, you knew that this was far from the end of your fiery exchanges. Something told you that the dynamic between you and Mat was just getting started, and you weren’t entirely sure if you should embrace it or run the other way.

You didn’t have too much time to dwell on it however, as you heard footsteps towards the entryway of your kitchen getting closer. You had no doubt in your mind that it was Mat. The grip you had on the counter suddenly tightened, your knuckles turning white, steeling yourself for the emotionally draining conversation that was to come.

Mat approached your turned back cautiously, his usually confident demeanor replaced with some semblance of vulnerability. “Hey…” he trailed off as he sidled up to you, not wanting to startle or upset you more than you already were.

You turned to him and just nodded, wordlessly giving him the opportunity to say what he needed to say. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get under your skin like that. It was wrong of me to rub it in your face, especially when I cheated,” he sighed.

You hummed at the admission of his apology, not quite ready to forgive him unless you knew his motives, “Why did you do it?”

“I had fun on our ‘date,’” he paused, using mock quotation marks and all, “but, you seemed so guarded. Since then, I’ve just done everything I can to get a reaction out of you.”

“So… you thought the best way to do that was by making me mad?” you pushed, still not understanding.

Mat ran a hand through his hair, looking rather sheepish, “I know. And obviously by the fact that I had to cheat in trivia, you should know I’m not the smartest. I just didn’t know how else to express that I was… interested.”

Your eyes widened in response, “Interested?” You struggled to wrap your head around the idea.

“When we first met, I thought that there was a spark. I’ve never met someone so fiery and passionate, yet cold and distant at the same time. I was kinda at a loss for what to do, and now I feel like I fucked it up.” Despite how hard you imagine that was for him to admit, his gaze never wavered from you once. You could tell he was being sincere.

You felt your heart practically skip a beat, “Well, you certainly have a funny way of showing your interest,” you retorted, slightly warming up to the idea of letting your guard down.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

“Next time, huh?” you teased.

He laughed in response, “Well yeah, if you haven’t noticed I don’t take to the idea of losing very well, and I’ll be damned if I lose the chance to win you over, too.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you replied, gesturing for a cheers with your drink against his.

As the weeks passed since your conversation in the kitchen, you and Mat had grown closer in your friendship. You guys actually went out of your way to spend time with each other, occasionally engaging in friendly competition now and then of course, but sometimes, Mat would let you win. Now, it seemed like an entirely new competition had developed, one you lovingly dubbed “How-long-will-Mat-hold-out-before-making-a-move.” You had workshopped the name a few times before settling on that one, a shorter name wouldn’t have done enough to indicate your frustration. You doubted he knew this game was ongoing. Or how desperate you were to get laid.

Tonight, you were hoping to change your luck. You had joined the rest of the Islanders for a post-win celebration, and if Mat wasn’t going to make a move, you would find someone on the dance floor who would. You knew that you were a catch, and it didn’t take too long for you to start dancing with a guy you had just met.

As it turns out, Mat had fully intended on making a move tonight. However, he hadn’t exactly planned for when that would be. It was only when he looked over in your direction that he realized he was running behind schedule. His eyes locked with yours, but instead of acting like a deer caught in the headlights, you smirked, inviting him to challenge your dancing partner in order to win your affection.

Keeping true to his word, he wanted you to know how much he detested losing, especially to a guy who looked like a Walmart version of Leonardo DiCaprio. He made his way to the dance floor, suddenly more determined than ever to win you over.

He doesn’t even remember how he did it, but he managed to pry you off of the other guy’s body, mumbling something about cutting in and the most insincere apology. Turns out, fake-Leo was okay with losing out on the girl because it was “Mat fuckin’ Barzal! You’re the man, dude!”

“You’re welcome,” you could feel him whisper in your ear.

“Mhmm,” you sighed into him, your back pressing into his front.

Mat’s arms tightened around you, and you could feel his chest rise and fall with every breath. The music continued to pulse around the two of you, but at this moment, you were in your own little world.

“You know,” Mat broke your little trance with his voice, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

You turned to face him, your face now just inches from his, “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, do you want me to get wannabe Leonardo DiCaprio turned Islanders superfan back over here?”

“Absolutely not!” you barked out between laughter at his preposterous proposal.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought,” his lips brushed against your ear.

“Can you shut up? I hate when you’re right,” you whined in jest.

His voice remained in a playful whisper, “Sure, as long as you shut up, too.”

“What is that supposed to me—” And before you could finish, his lips were on yours.

Time seemed to stand still as your lips met, a surge of electricity passing between you both. All the pent up frustration, tension, and chemistry had built up to this moment. Your fingers instinctively found their way to Mat’s hair, pulling him closer as you responded to his kiss with equal fervor. He deepened the kiss, the two of you going at it until you finally had to separate for air.

Normally, you would have had the decency and self-respect to keep the PDA to a minimum. Normally, you would have suggested leaving the place to get more familiar with each other within the privacy of your own home. But when it came to Mat, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to care about what was normal or not.

The unisex bathroom at the club did the job, and in the weeks that passed since, so did his bed, your bed, his countertop, your work office, and so on so forth. There was no room, and not a single surface within the realm of your friends-with-benefits situationship tat was off limits.

You know what else wasn’t off limits? The uncontrollable banter that remained between the two of you. Mathew made sure to remind you, even in the middle of providing aftercare.

“God, even when you’re in bed you still have to run your mouth,” you groaned, frozen in a starfish position in Mat’s bed.

“You love it though,” he retorted whilst handing you a towel, slipping that word into his response as though it meant nothing.

You just rolled your eyes in response. “What, all the sudden a cat got your tongue? I have to say I’m disappointed, you almost always have something to say,” he pressed on with a disapproving click of his tongue.

You narrowed your eyes, “Mathew, you could hand me a thesaurus right now and it wouldn’t be able to list enough words to accurately describe how much I loathe your presence.” Hate seemed like too strong of a word now.

He dramatically scoffed before coming up with a rebuttal. “That makes sense, why the fuck would a dinosaur be able to tell you how much you dislike me?” he countered with way too much confidence.

You nearly doubled over at his response. “I’m sorry,” you uttered out in between laughs, “did you just say a dinosaur?”

“Uh yeah…” he trailed off, suddenly unsure of himself. “Isn’t that what a thesaurus is?”

“A thesaurus is the book that has all of the synonyms and antonyms of a word so you aren’t stuck using the same words over and over,” you explained.

He rolled his eyes, clearly not interested in whatever explanation you just gave. “Whatever, all I’m getting from this conversation is that you don’t hate me.”

You raised your eyebrows in shock, he was surprisingly way more attentive than you gave him credit for. However, you quickly recovered, “You’re right. I don’t hate you, Mathew,” your grin growing more mischievous by the second, “every conversation we have gives me the confidence that there’s someone out there in this world that is dumber than me.”

“Fuck you!” he laughed. There was no point in arguing it when he knew it was true.

“At least ask me on a date first,” you retorted, despite knowing it was too late for that already.

You expected him to cringe at the thought of going on a date with you. Instead, his smile grew wider and wider, “You free Friday?”

“You can’t be serious,” you deadpanned. You hated that you couldn’t tell him that you in fact were very busy on Friday with some exciting plan to celebrate the beginning of the weekend. What you hated even more though, was that you were more than tempted to take him up on his offer.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” he smirked, “Dinner at Casa di Giorgio’s on 52nd. I’ll pick you up at 7 pm sharp.”

Mat continued to take you by surprise. This time, your date far usurped the happenings of the first time the two of you had met. Not only were you free that Friday, but so long as he asked, you made sure that you were free for every Friday after.

[luvsherleafs]

This was so worth the wait! The banter, the perfect description of bowling shoes (why are they like that? Why?), and the hint of cluelessness was so good! And my nephew thinks a thesaurus is a dinosaur too! Made me laugh! Thank you for this lovely fic!

[fallinallincurls]

all’s well that ends well to end up with you

here is my entry for @wyattjohnston’s summer fic exchange 2k23!! this fic is for @ya-pucking-nerd !! i had so much fun writing this and i hope you love it just as much! writing cale has always been a favorite of mine and this one was no exception. and shutout to @tonyspep as always for brainstorming so much of this idea with me!

i ALSO made a playlist for this fic which you can listen to here! 

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 5.3k

~~~~~

Cale’s offseason has hardly started, yet his phone is already lighting up with a call from you to no doubt make summer plans before he heads back to Calgary to enjoy time with his family and to start his summer training. 

It’s not unusual for his best friend to call him and the soft, giddy smile on his lips at just the sight of your name on his phone display is nothing new either, but when the call connects and words are practically spewing from your lips, he knows something must be wrong.

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.” Cale cuts you off, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“I said,” You emphasize, taking a deep breath to ensure you speak slower this time, “you got invited to Ryan’s wedding right? The one that’s in a few weeks in Montana?”

“Yeah, I did. What about it?”

“Well, uh, I kinda realized that showing up by myself would be lame right? Like this guy used to be insanely in love with me, but now he’s getting married and I’m, well, not even close to being in a relationship let alone a serious one.” 

Keep reading

[luvsherleafs]

This is adorable! Not sure I'd let my bestie drag me to Montana for a wedding, but it all works out in the end....

[luvsherleafs]

hey!! it’s ur fic writer here, don’t want u to think i’ve forgotten <3 i’ve unfortunately had to deal with migraines that have hindered my writing progress :( i’m hoping to have it up by tonight, but if not, it will be up tomorrow!

Ah, no worries! I hope you feel better...migraines are horrible. I can be patient - I promise!

[luvsherleafs]

It Starts With a Cookie

This is my entry for the Summer Fic Exchange organized by @wyattjohnston. She does a fabulous job organizing these exchanges that we all enjoy. I hope you enjoy this @princessphilly. Nate is always a favourite and this was kinda different for me. Thanks to @puckngrind for keeping me motivated and suggesting Nate fall first. Enjoy!

Cassie O’Neil knew when the Zadorov interview came out saying that Nathan MacKinnon was very much like Michael Jordan and could be a jerk to his teammates on ice and off, and that he was militant about food - it was going to cause some problems.  And when the cute little social media girl had stopped posting the menu from the plane that always had cookies on it, it was taken as validation of the theory that he had banned sodas, sugar and normal food on the plane for his teammates.

And Nate’s attempt to get everyone to eat healthier so they played better was shot down the first time they went to Buffalo and he suggested there shouldn’t be wings from the Anchor bar brought onboard for their short flight to Montreal.  No matter how much the guys were willing to follow the leader, you do not mess with Erik getting the best wings in the world while in Buffalo. That would have been grounds for being pushed off the plane while over Lake Ontario.

It really came to a head, when after a rough game, with Cassie trying to get treatments done while they were in the air leaving no time for her to actually grab dinner, that Nate pushed his luck.  As she grabbed a cookie and moved to head back to check on Bowen, Nate stepped in front of her and tried to take the cookie.

“As a member of the training staff, you should be eating something better than a cookie,” Nate growled at her, going to grab the cookie.  Everyone around them stopped.

“Touch the cookie Nate Dawg,” Cassie warned, “And you will find out how life on LTIR is when I break your hand after I punch you in the nose.”  

There was a brief stare off, while they both held an edge of the cookie.  When Nate didn’t let go, her eyes narrowed.

“You really should be nicer to the person who is about to have you on a med table and who hasn’t had time nor has the time to eat a full dinner because you idiots keep jumping in front of pucks, tripping on your non-existent toe picks, and slamming into huge dudes just as miserable as you are compacting bones in unnatural ways.  If I want a chocolate chip cookie, I will have a damn chocolate chip cookie,” she ended on a bellow.

By this time, Cale and Gabe had moved beside Cassie and Nate, Cale slowly moving towards Cassie while Gabe moved towards Nate.

“Just let go of the cookie, Nate,” Gabe said soothingly.  “Please don’t mess with the physical therapist who can hurt you in many torturous ways all while assuring you it has to hurt before it gets better.” Gabe slowly raised his hand towards Nate’s, hoping the dumbass would just let go of the cookie before he had to make him let go.

“Cassie, he’s going to let go of the cookie.  Or I can get you a new cookie,” Cale tried to calm her down.  She side eyed Cale and saw Devon hand him another cookie, which he held out to her.  Her eyes flicked back to Nate, before she took the offered cookie from Cale, while snapping the one Nate held in two.

And when Nate’s jaw dropped at what she’d done, she shoved the partial cookie in his mouth, closing her hand over it, before saying, “Eat the damn cookie.  Life’s too short to not eat the damn cookie!”  Before pushing past him towards the back of the plane.  

There was stunned silence for ten seconds, before Erik drawled, “How’s the cookie?” to Nate, causing everyone to start laughing.  

“She’s a menace,” Nate said around the mouthful of cookie, before he actually chewed and swallowed. 

“You only think that because everyone else lets you get away with being a dick,” Gabe retorted.  “And you may finally have met your match.”

********

For weeks after the cookie incident, Nate and Cassie kept their distance.  She would tend to let one of the other trainers look after him unless she had no other choice.  While Nate realized he’d been an ass about the cookie, not realizing how busy she had been with no chance of actually grabbing dinner, he also thought avoiding Cassie was the best plan.  While Cogs and Gabe tried to convince him to apologize, Nate thought dropping the subject would be a better idea.  And if he made sure that there were quick healthy snacks and fruit always there for the training staff, that was something no one needed to know.  

On what should have been just another regular Wednesday night in January where the Bruins were in town and you were hoping for two points - all hell broke out.  Cassie was just making her way up the tunnel to the bench at the start of the game, when Taylor Hall train wrecked Nate clearing the Avs zone.  Cassie watched Nate drop and then she saw all the blood and knew he was in trouble. 

“Jimmy, prep the room with towels, ice packs, saline and gauze,” she called to the training intern.  She watched as the other staff trainer was on the ice with Nate, trying to assess what was happening while Gabe was barking at Hall beside her.  She grabbed one of the ipads, to get the replay to see if she could get a better look at the hit.  

‘Dammit,” she muttered, when she saw it was the stick that clipped him hard.  “Get Doc down to the room please,” she asked over the headset.  She glanced to see that they had Nate up and he was heading to the bench, bitching the whole way.  She headed down to the room, making sure with a glance everything was ready while she pulled on gloves and waited.  

“Let’s get him on the table,” she guided him in and onto the table. “Jimmy, ice pack on the back of his neck,” she directed, moving to switch out the towel on his face, with a cool, wet one, wiping more blood away to get a better look, while having him hold gauze pads to his nose to catch the blood still pouring out.

“Scale of one to ten, where are you pain wise?” she asked, gently prodding him along his cheeks.

“Eight, fuck!  That fucking hurt,” he bellowed when she got close to his nose.  

“Stop whining,” she tossed back at him, slathering cool gel around his eyes and cheeks to try and minimize the swelling in case Doc wanted scans.

“What do we have, Cassie?” Doc asked, coming up to Nate.

“Broken nose for sure.  I think we’re gonna need scans because there might be a cheek fracture on the right side,” she detailed, moving to the side and sliding her hand over Nate’s as Doc checked him out.  Nate groaned and squeezed her hand when Doc checked his nose.

“Definitely need to see the damage to the septum,” Doc said quietly.  “Nate, we’re gonna get you changed and to the hospital for some scans. You might need surgery to fix this.”

“Fuck,” Nate swore loudly, as Doc went to call the hospital prepping them for Nate’s arrival.  

“Hey, it’s fixable,” Cassie said quietly.  “Let’s get you undressed, to the hospital and they’ll get you back on the ice in no time.”

Late that night, after another long game day, Cassie drove to the hospital to check on Nate.  She winced when she saw the scans, seeing they were going to have to repair Nate’s septum so he could breathe normally.  And Nate didn’t know that Cassie had sat by his bedside after the surgery so that he wasn’t alone until his Mom arrived.  But when he woke up, there was a bakery bag with a note.

"I'm a quite yummy gluten free chocolate chip cookie. And life's too short to not eat the cookie."

His Mom didn't say anything about the smile on his face as he ate the cookie.

********************

For the next few weeks, there was a truce between Nate and Cassie.  He missed some games and didn't get to play in the All Star game in Vegas after the surgery, but otherwise was healing normally. The team headed out on the road, and an otherwise normal night in frigid Minnesota,  the truce ended in spectacular fashion.

Matt Dumba hit Mikko as he entered the Wild zone, Mikko bouncing back up and carrying on, when Nate challenged Dumba to a fight.  Cassie watched in disbelief as Nate, fresh off the concussion and nose repair exchanged punches with the scrappy Dumba.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Cassie muttered, apparently loud enough for Coach Bednar to hear.

"Good question," he responded, watching the shenanigans with that not exactly happy coach face.

Cassie watched as Nate was escorted to the box, apparently none the worse for the fight.  But post game, after being reamed out by his coach, Nate sheepishly approached Cassie in the treatment room.

"Cass," he started.  She glanced up and then her eyes went wide when all she saw was Nate’s bare chest, before realizing he was holding up his hand.  "I think somethings wrong," he said.

She saw the swollen fingers, the bruises starting to come out on his hand and then the discoloration on his shoulder and shook her head in disbelief.

"You think something is wrong?" She muttered.   He nodded at her.  "You THINK something is wrong?" Her volume raised, as Nate shut the door.

"What gave it away, Nate?  When you decided just weeks after recovering from a concussion and nose surgery that it was a good idea to get in a fight?  Was that it? Or is it the fact that right now it looks like you've dislocated your shoulder and maybe fractured your hand?" She turned and pushed him onto the chair.

He followed her directions while she moved his shoulder, feeling how the muscles and tendons moved.  She tested the arm thoroughly and then moved to grab an ice pack to put on his hand.

“I need to go talk to Coach Bednar,” she told Nate, moving towards the door.  She didn’t realize he’d moved behind her until he reached over her to slam the door shut, his body pressed up behind her.

“Cass, what are you going to tell him?” Nate asked nervously.

“You have a sprained shoulder and until I get x-rays to confirm a possible hand fracture,” she responded.  “And I’m not signing off on you playing.”

“What the fuck,” Nate exclaimed.  “Cass, you can’t do that.”

“It’s my job to do that,” she countered, spinning around and finding herself facing a semi-naked and irate Nate right in her face.  “Back up, Nate,” she demanded.  The tension could have been cut by a knife as they stared at each other, waiting for the other to back down.

“You are so infuriating,” he bit out.  

“Tough shit,” she responded.  “My job is to protect you….” is as far as she got before Nate’s hand cupped the back of her head as he lips slammed into hers. Apparently her lips were all on board as her mind screamed not to kiss him back.  Who knows what would have happened if there hadn’t been a knock on the door and the handle started to twist. Nate jumped back, a look of shocked surprise on his face, while Cassie spun back to the door, to see Gabe poking his head in.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his head swinging between the two of them.

“Yes,”stated Nate at the same time Cassie said “No”.

“I need to talk to Coach Bednar,” Cassie said, pushing past Gabe.

“Cassie,” Nate called, but she didn’t turn around.  “Well, shit.”

“Nate, what’s going on?” Gabe asked him, noticing the bruising starting to appear on Nate’s arm.

“I fucked up,” he muttered.  “There’s something wrong with my shoulder and hand. She’s not going to let me play,” he paused.  “And I may have kissed her”

Gabe blinked several times trying to process that information.  “Okay.  She’s a little pissed at you getting in that fight,” Gabe agreed.  “As am I and the coaching staff,” he eyed him.  “And you kissed her?  You do nothing but complain what a hard-ass she is and you decided kissing her was the way to go?”  Gabe hissed at him.  “What were you thinking?”

“That I needed to shut her up for a minute so I could get her to not bench me,” Nate sighed.  “And that she looked so damn adorable when she was mad at me,”  he looked up at Gabe.  “I know, I know, not my finest moment.”

Before Gabe could respond, Coach Bednar is striding into the room, anger coming off him in waves.

“You are going back to Denver for proper assessment and treatment,” he started.  “And the only way you are going to be allowed back on the ice is if Cassie approves it.  No discussion.”  He walked out of the room, leaving a frustrated Nate staring after him.

“I’m sure this is going to be fascinating to watch,” Gabe laughed, walking out to tell the boys how much of an idiot Nate has been and to start the betting pool on when Cassie would kill him.

********

Cassie was giving Jimmy, her intern, all kinds of instructions which he was frantically noting on his IPad as she was pulling her bag off the bus the guys were taking to their charter flight to Calgary.  She wasn’t happy about having to fly back to Denver with Nate, but when the Coach and GM ask you to do something, you do it.  They didn’t know that she still hadn’t processed the fact that Nate had kissed her or that she had no idea what that meant.  Was it just a heat of the moment, he-man show of dominance?  Or was there something else to it?  Damned if she knew.

“Just call me if you have any questions,” she said to Jimmy when he looked a little panicked. “You’re going to be great.  You do this stuff all the time with me and I have no doubt you are going to rock this.”

“Thanks, Cassie.  You’re a great teacher,” Jimmy said, then turned when one of the other trainers called for help, waving to Cassie before jogging over to help load equipment.

Cassie sighed, before turning to look for sure to be grumpy Nate.  He was no doubt not happy being sent home and she was sure he was not going to be happy he had to get her to sign off on him playing again.  She spotted him huddled with Gabe and Cogs in what looked like a heated conversation.   

"Come on, Princess," she called, walking up to them.  "Say goodbye to the guys, we have a plane to catch."

“Princess?  I’m a Princess?” Nate growled.

“Would you prefer Diva?” Cassie asked calmly.  She waited for an answer, watching his mouth open and close, while there were snorts from the guys.  “Nate, I’m tired and we have a plane to catch that isn’t going to our next game but home because you had a moment and here we are.”  She turned to the guys.  “Have a good game guys, play smart and I’ll see you in a few days.”

Sliding the strap of her carryon bag over the handle of her suitcase, she started walking to the car that was waiting for them, knowing Nate could catch up to her in no time once he snapped out of his little pouty moment.  And he did, the two of them continuing to head to the car that would get them to the main airport.  After several minutes, Nate sighed and then turned his head towards her.

“I’m sorry, Cassie,” he said softly.  

“For what?” Cassie asked.  “Being the reason we’re heading home before everyone else?  Or for being an idiot and getting into a fight after just having your nose repaired?” Nate blinked when he realized she had said nothing about the kiss.  Interesting.

“All of it,” he said.  “Are you going to let me play?”

“Not until I know what all the tests say.  We have x-rays first thing tomorrow morning.  Doc set it up, so buckle up, Buttercup, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together over the next few days.”  

*******

Cassie hadn’t been kidding - they spent nearly the next twenty four hours either together or connected via text message.  She had fallen asleep on the plane, and somehow so had Nate despite him being uncomfortable.  He woke before her to find her snuggled into his side, using him as a pillow.  He smiled softly, thinking maybe she didn’t hate him as much as it seemed.  He said nothing when she woke up and proceeded to check his shoulder.  Then it was off to the hospital for x-rays - he was beginning to hate this building having spent so much time in it over the last month.  

Nate came out of the treatment room and saw Cassie standing in front of the nurses station, reviewing the scans and x-rays, a small frown between her eyes.  He watched as she flipped between them, stopping to zoom into one before moving to the next.  He wasn’t sure what to think when she sighed and stood looking into the distance.  He gave her another minute before he walked over to her, standing behind her to get a peek at the x-rays.

“Well?” he asked quietly.

“Your hand isn’t broken, but there is a chip in your middle finger.  And you sprained your shoulder,” she answered.  He nodded, waiting to hear her verdict.  “I need to call Bednar,” she grabbed her phone.  Nate clamped his hand over hers holding the phone.

“Cassie, don’t leave me hanging.  Are you going to let me play?” Nate’s voice had a slight plea to it.

Cassie looked up at him, seeing his worry.  She really could mess with him here - which he kinda deserved after being stupid enough to get in the fight, but something stopped her.

“I’m recommending a couple of days PT, and then we will reassess.” she nodded at the x-ray of the hand.  “I’m a little worried about that chip and how you will be able to grip your stick.  The main PT will be to keep your shoulder moving and loose while it heals.”  She looked back up at him.  “I’m not letting you on the ice for at least a week.”

“Text me the PT schedule,” he said, before turning and heading to the exit.  He knew there was no way he could argue with her because Bednar had given her all the power.  And if he yelled in frustration when he got home, no one knew or heard.

*********

Cassie was on the treadmill at the Avs facility, trying to release some of the stress that had been mounting for weeks.  Yes, she realized that the biggest source of her stress was a large, blond, ridiculously hot center and a situation that she didn’t seem to have any control over.  She wasn’t sure what to think about that kiss that kept replaying over and over in her head.  What did it mean?  Why hadn’t he said anything?  And because he hadn’t brought it up, she wasn’t bringing it up either.  She knew that wasn’t the healthiest but so be it.

She was so deep in her head that she hadn’t noticed that Nate had come in and was on the treadmill beside her.  She barely registered the beeping telling her she was starting to cool down after having done five miles without actually realizing she had.  It took hearing Gabe’s voice asking Nate a question to pop her back into reality.  She quickly wiped down the equipment before heading to her office to prep for the day.   Today was the day for Nate’s reassessment and she was so ready for this period of anxiety to be over.

Coach Bednar was discussing Nate’s progress with Cassie when Nate walked into the treatment room.  He stripped off his sweatshirt and jumped up on the table, waiting for Cassie.  He was pretty confident that she was going to clear him. He had followed everything she had given him to do or not do - including no ice time or weight room.  Other than the treadmill, he hadn’t had much of an outlet for his frustration.  The positive was that his cardio was incredible.

“Okay, let’s get started,” Cassie had snapped gloves on and walked over to Nate.  She started with checking the range of motion in the shoulder - watching for any reaction from Nate and feeling the movements through her hands.  After twenty minutes, she handed him a stick and told him to grip it, first bare handed and then with gloves on.  Coach watched and when Cassie gave him a nod, he patted Nate on the shoulder and stated, “See you on the ice,” before leaving the room.

“You’re good to go,” Cassie advised when Nate didn’t leave.  He nodded, not sure whether he should say anything.

“Cassie?” he said quietly, waiting for her to look up at him.  She hadn’t noticed him coming up behind her until she turned and he was right there in all his shirtless glory.  How did he do that?  Sneaky ninja skills. His eyes searched her face, as she waited for him to continue.  Cassie realized she was going to miss Nate, miss having her hands on all that muscle, now that he’d been cleared to play.  She wasn’t sure what he’d seen, but as he made to take a step back, she hooked a foot behind his knee and pulled him forward, knocking him off balance, his hands slamming into the counter on either side of Cassie for balance.  The surprise on his face was nothing to the shock that appeared when she said, “I think you should kiss me again.”

She reached to pull his mouth to hers, which shook Nate out of his surprise and his hands gripped her hips and lifted her onto the counter as his lips crashed into hers.  It was all hunger and pent up longing in one glorious sweep of his tongue dancing with hers. A crash in the hall had them pulling apart, eyes locked.

“You need to get ready for practice,” Cassie whispered.

“This isn’t over,” Nate answered, dipping his head to softly bring his lips to hers.  “Not by a long shot.  Have dinner with me tonight?” he asked, forehead meeting hers while he waited for her answer.  She nodded, giving him a quick peck before pushing him back.

“Get out of here and get ready for practice Hot Shot,” she told him, turning to clean the table he’d been sitting on.  “And don’t block any pucks,” she called as he went through the door.  She heard his laugh as he went to get changed for practice.

*******

Cassie and Nate kept their dating a secret for all of two weeks, when Cale of all people caught them.  Poor guy, all he had wanted was to make sure there wasn’t any damage from blocking a puck, when he opened the door, asking Cassie for help and then stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Nate sneaking a kiss.  He backed out of the room, hitting Erik who then let everyone know that he’d called it and to pay up.

“This is all your fault, Hot Shot,” Cassie shook her finger at Nate, who promptly sucked it into his mouth before she poked him.  “We’ll keep it on the down low he said until we’re ready to tell them,” she mocked.

“You weren’t very covert,” Cogs said loudly.  “I saw Nate sneaking into your room in Dallas.”

“And Maddie and I saw you holding hands leaving the restaurant last Saturday,” NAK confirmed.

“Not to mention he brought her a cookie before the game,” Bo added, causing Cassie to groan and bury her head in Nate’s chest.  They were never going to live this down.

“Fine,” Nate glared at them.  “You all told me what an amazing girl she was and I needed to stop fighting with her.  I just took all of your advice.”

Gabe looked at Erik, and then back at Nate.  “Cassie, promise me you will still be on his ass all the time for his stupid shit.”  Cassie’s eyes widened in surprise.

“He may be a good kisser, Gabe, but I’m gonna keep calling him out on his dumb shit,” Cassie answered him with a nod.  Nate pinched her and she kicked him in the shin. 

“Heaven help us,” Gabe snorted, turning back to getting changed.  The others followed him, sly grins on their faces.

Cassie kept her word to Gabe.  For the rest of the season and into the playoffs, she called Nate out whenever it was needed.  When he blocked a puck and kept saying he was fine until she saw the bruising and he knew he was in for it when she very deliberately pressed her finger into the center of the bruise until he groaned.  He made sure she remembered to eat while she took care of all the injuries.  He’d been there when she was exhausted after spending the night in the hospital when Naz had his surgery, Cassie insisting she needed to get to the rink and make sure everyone else was fine - taking her home and using his kissing skills to relax her enough to pass out.

On an incredible June night in Tampa, when the clock wound down and they won the Stanley Cup, Cassie had watched with tears in her eyes as Nate hoisted the Cup. They’d finally won something.

During a summer of never-ending Cup celebrations,  Cassie was kept busy keeping track of everyone’s rehab.  The next season was the hardest season for her,  with pretty much everyone getting injured, including not the best patient Nate, at least once.  She considered wrapping Mikko in bubble wrap at one point as he was one of the few who hadn’t missed time with something.  Nate subtly made sure Cassie was taking care of herself during all of it, from making sure she ate to dragging her away from the rink for some relaxation.

The disappointment of getting knocked out in the first round was strong, but after the short summer and all the injuries, it was maybe a blessing.  There was a lot of healing that needed to happen.  And there was always next season.

And on a quiet night in July, just before Cassie and Nate were set to head to British Columbia and Tyson’s wedding, Cassie was sitting on the dock, enjoying the quiet.  She laughed when Knox stuck his face in her lap with big eyes begging for some loving.

“You are a very needy dog, just like your Daddy,” she was scratching his ears with a smile on her face, knowing Nate was behind her.

“Hey, I am not that needy,” Nate argued, setting a tray on the table.  “I brought you a snack,” he dropped a kiss to her forehead and waited.  

Cassie glanced at the tray and did a doubletake. On a very pretty china plate was a huge chocolate chip cookie with a message - Marry Me.  Her eyes flew to Nate, who was on one knee with a ring between his fingers.

“It seemed fitting as it all started with a cookie,” he smiled.  “And a very wise woman once told me that life is too short to not enjoy the cookies.”  She rolled her eyes, before leaning forward and kissing him.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she answered, Nate sliding the ring on her finger.  “But I’m not sharing the cookie.”  Nate started laughing, hauling her up and into his arms.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” he said before sealing the deal with a kiss.

[luvsherleafs]

It Starts With a Cookie

This is my entry for the Summer Fic Exchange organized by @wyattjohnston. She does a fabulous job organizing these exchanges that we all enjoy. I hope you enjoy this @princessphilly. Nate is always a favourite and this was kinda different for me. Thanks to @puckngrind for keeping me motivated and suggesting Nate fall first. Enjoy!

Cassie O’Neil knew when the Zadorov interview came out saying that Nathan MacKinnon was very much like Michael Jordan and could be a jerk to his teammates on ice and off, and that he was militant about food - it was going to cause some problems.  And when the cute little social media girl had stopped posting the menu from the plane that always had cookies on it, it was taken as validation of the theory that he had banned sodas, sugar and normal food on the plane for his teammates.

And Nate’s attempt to get everyone to eat healthier so they played better was shot down the first time they went to Buffalo and he suggested there shouldn’t be wings from the Anchor bar brought onboard for their short flight to Montreal.  No matter how much the guys were willing to follow the leader, you do not mess with Erik getting the best wings in the world while in Buffalo. That would have been grounds for being pushed off the plane while over Lake Ontario.

It really came to a head, when after a rough game, with Cassie trying to get treatments done while they were in the air leaving no time for her to actually grab dinner, that Nate pushed his luck.  As she grabbed a cookie and moved to head back to check on Bowen, Nate stepped in front of her and tried to take the cookie.

“As a member of the training staff, you should be eating something better than a cookie,” Nate growled at her, going to grab the cookie.  Everyone around them stopped.

“Touch the cookie Nate Dawg,” Cassie warned, “And you will find out how life on LTIR is when I break your hand after I punch you in the nose.”  

There was a brief stare off, while they both held an edge of the cookie.  When Nate didn’t let go, her eyes narrowed.

“You really should be nicer to the person who is about to have you on a med table and who hasn’t had time nor has the time to eat a full dinner because you idiots keep jumping in front of pucks, tripping on your non-existent toe picks, and slamming into huge dudes just as miserable as you are compacting bones in unnatural ways.  If I want a chocolate chip cookie, I will have a damn chocolate chip cookie,” she ended on a bellow.

By this time, Cale and Gabe had moved beside Cassie and Nate, Cale slowly moving towards Cassie while Gabe moved towards Nate.

“Just let go of the cookie, Nate,” Gabe said soothingly.  “Please don’t mess with the physical therapist who can hurt you in many torturous ways all while assuring you it has to hurt before it gets better.” Gabe slowly raised his hand towards Nate’s, hoping the dumbass would just let go of the cookie before he had to make him let go.

“Cassie, he’s going to let go of the cookie.  Or I can get you a new cookie,” Cale tried to calm her down.  She side eyed Cale and saw Devon hand him another cookie, which he held out to her.  Her eyes flicked back to Nate, before she took the offered cookie from Cale, while snapping the one Nate held in two.

And when Nate’s jaw dropped at what she’d done, she shoved the partial cookie in his mouth, closing her hand over it, before saying, “Eat the damn cookie.  Life’s too short to not eat the damn cookie!”  Before pushing past him towards the back of the plane.  

There was stunned silence for ten seconds, before Erik drawled, “How’s the cookie?” to Nate, causing everyone to start laughing.  

“She’s a menace,” Nate said around the mouthful of cookie, before he actually chewed and swallowed. 

“You only think that because everyone else lets you get away with being a dick,” Gabe retorted.  “And you may finally have met your match.”

********

For weeks after the cookie incident, Nate and Cassie kept their distance.  She would tend to let one of the other trainers look after him unless she had no other choice.  While Nate realized he’d been an ass about the cookie, not realizing how busy she had been with no chance of actually grabbing dinner, he also thought avoiding Cassie was the best plan.  While Cogs and Gabe tried to convince him to apologize, Nate thought dropping the subject would be a better idea.  And if he made sure that there were quick healthy snacks and fruit always there for the training staff, that was something no one needed to know.  

On what should have been just another regular Wednesday night in January where the Bruins were in town and you were hoping for two points - all hell broke out.  Cassie was just making her way up the tunnel to the bench at the start of the game, when Taylor Hall train wrecked Nate clearing the Avs zone.  Cassie watched Nate drop and then she saw all the blood and knew he was in trouble. 

“Jimmy, prep the room with towels, ice packs, saline and gauze,” she called to the training intern.  She watched as the other staff trainer was on the ice with Nate, trying to assess what was happening while Gabe was barking at Hall beside her.  She grabbed one of the ipads, to get the replay to see if she could get a better look at the hit.  

‘Dammit,” she muttered, when she saw it was the stick that clipped him hard.  “Get Doc down to the room please,” she asked over the headset.  She glanced to see that they had Nate up and he was heading to the bench, bitching the whole way.  She headed down to the room, making sure with a glance everything was ready while she pulled on gloves and waited.  

“Let’s get him on the table,” she guided him in and onto the table. “Jimmy, ice pack on the back of his neck,” she directed, moving to switch out the towel on his face, with a cool, wet one, wiping more blood away to get a better look, while having him hold gauze pads to his nose to catch the blood still pouring out.

“Scale of one to ten, where are you pain wise?” she asked, gently prodding him along his cheeks.

“Eight, fuck!  That fucking hurt,” he bellowed when she got close to his nose.  

“Stop whining,” she tossed back at him, slathering cool gel around his eyes and cheeks to try and minimize the swelling in case Doc wanted scans.

“What do we have, Cassie?” Doc asked, coming up to Nate.

“Broken nose for sure.  I think we’re gonna need scans because there might be a cheek fracture on the right side,” she detailed, moving to the side and sliding her hand over Nate’s as Doc checked him out.  Nate groaned and squeezed her hand when Doc checked his nose.

“Definitely need to see the damage to the septum,” Doc said quietly.  “Nate, we’re gonna get you changed and to the hospital for some scans. You might need surgery to fix this.”

“Fuck,” Nate swore loudly, as Doc went to call the hospital prepping them for Nate’s arrival.  

“Hey, it’s fixable,” Cassie said quietly.  “Let’s get you undressed, to the hospital and they’ll get you back on the ice in no time.”

Late that night, after another long game day, Cassie drove to the hospital to check on Nate.  She winced when she saw the scans, seeing they were going to have to repair Nate’s septum so he could breathe normally.  And Nate didn’t know that Cassie had sat by his bedside after the surgery so that he wasn’t alone until his Mom arrived.  But when he woke up, there was a bakery bag with a note.

"I'm a quite yummy gluten free chocolate chip cookie. And life's too short to not eat the cookie."

His Mom didn't say anything about the smile on his face as he ate the cookie.

********************

For the next few weeks, there was a truce between Nate and Cassie.  He missed some games and didn't get to play in the All Star game in Vegas after the surgery, but otherwise was healing normally. The team headed out on the road, and an otherwise normal night in frigid Minnesota,  the truce ended in spectacular fashion.

Matt Dumba hit Mikko as he entered the Wild zone, Mikko bouncing back up and carrying on, when Nate challenged Dumba to a fight.  Cassie watched in disbelief as Nate, fresh off the concussion and nose repair exchanged punches with the scrappy Dumba.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Cassie muttered, apparently loud enough for Coach Bednar to hear.

"Good question," he responded, watching the shenanigans with that not exactly happy coach face.

Cassie watched as Nate was escorted to the box, apparently none the worse for the fight.  But post game, after being reamed out by his coach, Nate sheepishly approached Cassie in the treatment room.

"Cass," he started.  She glanced up and then her eyes went wide when all she saw was Nate’s bare chest, before realizing he was holding up his hand.  "I think somethings wrong," he said.

She saw the swollen fingers, the bruises starting to come out on his hand and then the discoloration on his shoulder and shook her head in disbelief.

"You think something is wrong?" She muttered.   He nodded at her.  "You THINK something is wrong?" Her volume raised, as Nate shut the door.

"What gave it away, Nate?  When you decided just weeks after recovering from a concussion and nose surgery that it was a good idea to get in a fight?  Was that it? Or is it the fact that right now it looks like you've dislocated your shoulder and maybe fractured your hand?" She turned and pushed him onto the chair.

He followed her directions while she moved his shoulder, feeling how the muscles and tendons moved.  She tested the arm thoroughly and then moved to grab an ice pack to put on his hand.

“I need to go talk to Coach Bednar,” she told Nate, moving towards the door.  She didn’t realize he’d moved behind her until he reached over her to slam the door shut, his body pressed up behind her.

“Cass, what are you going to tell him?” Nate asked nervously.

“You have a sprained shoulder and until I get x-rays to confirm a possible hand fracture,” she responded.  “And I’m not signing off on you playing.”

“What the fuck,” Nate exclaimed.  “Cass, you can’t do that.”

“It’s my job to do that,” she countered, spinning around and finding herself facing a semi-naked and irate Nate right in her face.  “Back up, Nate,” she demanded.  The tension could have been cut by a knife as they stared at each other, waiting for the other to back down.

“You are so infuriating,” he bit out.  

“Tough shit,” she responded.  “My job is to protect you….” is as far as she got before Nate’s hand cupped the back of her head as he lips slammed into hers. Apparently her lips were all on board as her mind screamed not to kiss him back.  Who knows what would have happened if there hadn’t been a knock on the door and the handle started to twist. Nate jumped back, a look of shocked surprise on his face, while Cassie spun back to the door, to see Gabe poking his head in.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his head swinging between the two of them.

“Yes,”stated Nate at the same time Cassie said “No”.

“I need to talk to Coach Bednar,” Cassie said, pushing past Gabe.

“Cassie,” Nate called, but she didn’t turn around.  “Well, shit.”

“Nate, what’s going on?” Gabe asked him, noticing the bruising starting to appear on Nate’s arm.

“I fucked up,” he muttered.  “There’s something wrong with my shoulder and hand. She’s not going to let me play,” he paused.  “And I may have kissed her”

Gabe blinked several times trying to process that information.  “Okay.  She’s a little pissed at you getting in that fight,” Gabe agreed.  “As am I and the coaching staff,” he eyed him.  “And you kissed her?  You do nothing but complain what a hard-ass she is and you decided kissing her was the way to go?”  Gabe hissed at him.  “What were you thinking?”

“That I needed to shut her up for a minute so I could get her to not bench me,” Nate sighed.  “And that she looked so damn adorable when she was mad at me,”  he looked up at Gabe.  “I know, I know, not my finest moment.”

Before Gabe could respond, Coach Bednar is striding into the room, anger coming off him in waves.

“You are going back to Denver for proper assessment and treatment,” he started.  “And the only way you are going to be allowed back on the ice is if Cassie approves it.  No discussion.”  He walked out of the room, leaving a frustrated Nate staring after him.

“I’m sure this is going to be fascinating to watch,” Gabe laughed, walking out to tell the boys how much of an idiot Nate has been and to start the betting pool on when Cassie would kill him.

********

Cassie was giving Jimmy, her intern, all kinds of instructions which he was frantically noting on his IPad as she was pulling her bag off the bus the guys were taking to their charter flight to Calgary.  She wasn’t happy about having to fly back to Denver with Nate, but when the Coach and GM ask you to do something, you do it.  They didn’t know that she still hadn’t processed the fact that Nate had kissed her or that she had no idea what that meant.  Was it just a heat of the moment, he-man show of dominance?  Or was there something else to it?  Damned if she knew.

“Just call me if you have any questions,” she said to Jimmy when he looked a little panicked. “You’re going to be great.  You do this stuff all the time with me and I have no doubt you are going to rock this.”

“Thanks, Cassie.  You’re a great teacher,” Jimmy said, then turned when one of the other trainers called for help, waving to Cassie before jogging over to help load equipment.

Cassie sighed, before turning to look for sure to be grumpy Nate.  He was no doubt not happy being sent home and she was sure he was not going to be happy he had to get her to sign off on him playing again.  She spotted him huddled with Gabe and Cogs in what looked like a heated conversation.   

"Come on, Princess," she called, walking up to them.  "Say goodbye to the guys, we have a plane to catch."

“Princess?  I’m a Princess?” Nate growled.

“Would you prefer Diva?” Cassie asked calmly.  She waited for an answer, watching his mouth open and close, while there were snorts from the guys.  “Nate, I’m tired and we have a plane to catch that isn’t going to our next game but home because you had a moment and here we are.”  She turned to the guys.  “Have a good game guys, play smart and I’ll see you in a few days.”

Sliding the strap of her carryon bag over the handle of her suitcase, she started walking to the car that was waiting for them, knowing Nate could catch up to her in no time once he snapped out of his little pouty moment.  And he did, the two of them continuing to head to the car that would get them to the main airport.  After several minutes, Nate sighed and then turned his head towards her.

“I’m sorry, Cassie,” he said softly.  

“For what?” Cassie asked.  “Being the reason we’re heading home before everyone else?  Or for being an idiot and getting into a fight after just having your nose repaired?” Nate blinked when he realized she had said nothing about the kiss.  Interesting.

“All of it,” he said.  “Are you going to let me play?”

“Not until I know what all the tests say.  We have x-rays first thing tomorrow morning.  Doc set it up, so buckle up, Buttercup, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together over the next few days.”  

*******

Cassie hadn’t been kidding - they spent nearly the next twenty four hours either together or connected via text message.  She had fallen asleep on the plane, and somehow so had Nate despite him being uncomfortable.  He woke before her to find her snuggled into his side, using him as a pillow.  He smiled softly, thinking maybe she didn’t hate him as much as it seemed.  He said nothing when she woke up and proceeded to check his shoulder.  Then it was off to the hospital for x-rays - he was beginning to hate this building having spent so much time in it over the last month.  

Nate came out of the treatment room and saw Cassie standing in front of the nurses station, reviewing the scans and x-rays, a small frown between her eyes.  He watched as she flipped between them, stopping to zoom into one before moving to the next.  He wasn’t sure what to think when she sighed and stood looking into the distance.  He gave her another minute before he walked over to her, standing behind her to get a peek at the x-rays.

“Well?” he asked quietly.

“Your hand isn’t broken, but there is a chip in your middle finger.  And you sprained your shoulder,” she answered.  He nodded, waiting to hear her verdict.  “I need to call Bednar,” she grabbed her phone.  Nate clamped his hand over hers holding the phone.

“Cassie, don’t leave me hanging.  Are you going to let me play?” Nate’s voice had a slight plea to it.

Cassie looked up at him, seeing his worry.  She really could mess with him here - which he kinda deserved after being stupid enough to get in the fight, but something stopped her.

“I’m recommending a couple of days PT, and then we will reassess.” she nodded at the x-ray of the hand.  “I’m a little worried about that chip and how you will be able to grip your stick.  The main PT will be to keep your shoulder moving and loose while it heals.”  She looked back up at him.  “I’m not letting you on the ice for at least a week.”

“Text me the PT schedule,” he said, before turning and heading to the exit.  He knew there was no way he could argue with her because Bednar had given her all the power.  And if he yelled in frustration when he got home, no one knew or heard.

*********

Cassie was on the treadmill at the Avs facility, trying to release some of the stress that had been mounting for weeks.  Yes, she realized that the biggest source of her stress was a large, blond, ridiculously hot center and a situation that she didn’t seem to have any control over.  She wasn’t sure what to think about that kiss that kept replaying over and over in her head.  What did it mean?  Why hadn’t he said anything?  And because he hadn’t brought it up, she wasn’t bringing it up either.  She knew that wasn’t the healthiest but so be it.

She was so deep in her head that she hadn’t noticed that Nate had come in and was on the treadmill beside her.  She barely registered the beeping telling her she was starting to cool down after having done five miles without actually realizing she had.  It took hearing Gabe’s voice asking Nate a question to pop her back into reality.  She quickly wiped down the equipment before heading to her office to prep for the day.   Today was the day for Nate’s reassessment and she was so ready for this period of anxiety to be over.

Coach Bednar was discussing Nate’s progress with Cassie when Nate walked into the treatment room.  He stripped off his sweatshirt and jumped up on the table, waiting for Cassie.  He was pretty confident that she was going to clear him. He had followed everything she had given him to do or not do - including no ice time or weight room.  Other than the treadmill, he hadn’t had much of an outlet for his frustration.  The positive was that his cardio was incredible.

“Okay, let’s get started,” Cassie had snapped gloves on and walked over to Nate.  She started with checking the range of motion in the shoulder - watching for any reaction from Nate and feeling the movements through her hands.  After twenty minutes, she handed him a stick and told him to grip it, first bare handed and then with gloves on.  Coach watched and when Cassie gave him a nod, he patted Nate on the shoulder and stated, “See you on the ice,” before leaving the room.

“You’re good to go,” Cassie advised when Nate didn’t leave.  He nodded, not sure whether he should say anything.

“Cassie?” he said quietly, waiting for her to look up at him.  She hadn’t noticed him coming up behind her until she turned and he was right there in all his shirtless glory.  How did he do that?  Sneaky ninja skills. His eyes searched her face, as she waited for him to continue.  Cassie realized she was going to miss Nate, miss having her hands on all that muscle, now that he’d been cleared to play.  She wasn’t sure what he’d seen, but as he made to take a step back, she hooked a foot behind his knee and pulled him forward, knocking him off balance, his hands slamming into the counter on either side of Cassie for balance.  The surprise on his face was nothing to the shock that appeared when she said, “I think you should kiss me again.”

She reached to pull his mouth to hers, which shook Nate out of his surprise and his hands gripped her hips and lifted her onto the counter as his lips crashed into hers.  It was all hunger and pent up longing in one glorious sweep of his tongue dancing with hers. A crash in the hall had them pulling apart, eyes locked.

“You need to get ready for practice,” Cassie whispered.

“This isn’t over,” Nate answered, dipping his head to softly bring his lips to hers.  “Not by a long shot.  Have dinner with me tonight?” he asked, forehead meeting hers while he waited for her answer.  She nodded, giving him a quick peck before pushing him back.

“Get out of here and get ready for practice Hot Shot,” she told him, turning to clean the table he’d been sitting on.  “And don’t block any pucks,” she called as he went through the door.  She heard his laugh as he went to get changed for practice.

*******

Cassie and Nate kept their dating a secret for all of two weeks, when Cale of all people caught them.  Poor guy, all he had wanted was to make sure there wasn’t any damage from blocking a puck, when he opened the door, asking Cassie for help and then stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Nate sneaking a kiss.  He backed out of the room, hitting Erik who then let everyone know that he’d called it and to pay up.

“This is all your fault, Hot Shot,” Cassie shook her finger at Nate, who promptly sucked it into his mouth before she poked him.  “We’ll keep it on the down low he said until we’re ready to tell them,” she mocked.

“You weren’t very covert,” Cogs said loudly.  “I saw Nate sneaking into your room in Dallas.”

“And Maddie and I saw you holding hands leaving the restaurant last Saturday,” NAK confirmed.

“Not to mention he brought her a cookie before the game,” Bo added, causing Cassie to groan and bury her head in Nate’s chest.  They were never going to live this down.

“Fine,” Nate glared at them.  “You all told me what an amazing girl she was and I needed to stop fighting with her.  I just took all of your advice.”

Gabe looked at Erik, and then back at Nate.  “Cassie, promise me you will still be on his ass all the time for his stupid shit.”  Cassie’s eyes widened in surprise.

“He may be a good kisser, Gabe, but I’m gonna keep calling him out on his dumb shit,” Cassie answered him with a nod.  Nate pinched her and she kicked him in the shin. 

“Heaven help us,” Gabe snorted, turning back to getting changed.  The others followed him, sly grins on their faces.

Cassie kept her word to Gabe.  For the rest of the season and into the playoffs, she called Nate out whenever it was needed.  When he blocked a puck and kept saying he was fine until she saw the bruising and he knew he was in for it when she very deliberately pressed her finger into the center of the bruise until he groaned.  He made sure she remembered to eat while she took care of all the injuries.  He’d been there when she was exhausted after spending the night in the hospital when Naz had his surgery, Cassie insisting she needed to get to the rink and make sure everyone else was fine - taking her home and using his kissing skills to relax her enough to pass out.

On an incredible June night in Tampa, when the clock wound down and they won the Stanley Cup, Cassie had watched with tears in her eyes as Nate hoisted the Cup. They’d finally won something.

During a summer of never-ending Cup celebrations,  Cassie was kept busy keeping track of everyone’s rehab.  The next season was the hardest season for her,  with pretty much everyone getting injured, including not the best patient Nate, at least once.  She considered wrapping Mikko in bubble wrap at one point as he was one of the few who hadn’t missed time with something.  Nate subtly made sure Cassie was taking care of herself during all of it, from making sure she ate to dragging her away from the rink for some relaxation.

The disappointment of getting knocked out in the first round was strong, but after the short summer and all the injuries, it was maybe a blessing.  There was a lot of healing that needed to happen.  And there was always next season.

And on a quiet night in July, just before Cassie and Nate were set to head to British Columbia and Tyson’s wedding, Cassie was sitting on the dock, enjoying the quiet.  She laughed when Knox stuck his face in her lap with big eyes begging for some loving.

“You are a very needy dog, just like your Daddy,” she was scratching his ears with a smile on her face, knowing Nate was behind her.

“Hey, I am not that needy,” Nate argued, setting a tray on the table.  “I brought you a snack,” he dropped a kiss to her forehead and waited.  

Cassie glanced at the tray and did a doubletake. On a very pretty china plate was a huge chocolate chip cookie with a message - Marry Me.  Her eyes flew to Nate, who was on one knee with a ring between his fingers.

“It seemed fitting as it all started with a cookie,” he smiled.  “And a very wise woman once told me that life is too short to not enjoy the cookies.”  She rolled her eyes, before leaning forward and kissing him.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she answered, Nate sliding the ring on her finger.  “But I’m not sharing the cookie.”  Nate started laughing, hauling her up and into his arms.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” he said before sealing the deal with a kiss.

[wyattjohnston]

make it weird - jack hughes

summary: kat's vacation gets gatecrashed by the one guy she cannot stand.

word count: 2,140

note: this is for @torontoflames as part of the summer fic exchange 2k23. i've tried my hand at enemies-to-lovers and i hope you enjoy! @laurenairay and @matthewtkachuk are gems and helped me with this a lot <3

There were few sounds in the world Kat found more infuriating than Jack’s laugh. Intellectually she knew that it was a perfectly fine laugh, nothing unusual or grating about it; that didn’t stop her eyes from rolling back into her skull when it filled the room.

Had he ever done anything specific to warrant such a visceral reaction? Kat honestly couldn’t remember. She was sure there was something at some point that had laid the groundwork for her ever-simmering hatred even if she could no longer recall.

More pressing than his laugh at that exact moment, though, was his presence on the once-in-a-lifetime Greek Island Vacation that Kat had been dreaming about since she was fifteen. It had all been going to plan with no setbacks and no surprises until two weeks out when she heard Jack had purchased flights on a whim.

Still, Kat tried to smile across at Sarah, who was furiously trying to butter her toast before it got too cold and was completely unaware that Kat’s grip on her spoon was leaving indentations in her hand.

“About time you two woke up,” Sarah joked, tilting her head up to meet Nico’s lips before he sat down, leaving Jack to take the empty seat beside Kat.

Sarah knew all about Kat’s dislike of Jack—in fact, she’d forced Nico to be the one to break the news—and it was an open secret at the table, so Kat continued to glare holes in Sarah’s head, getting more intense every time Jack opened his mouth.

When the vacation was organised, Kat hadn’t been bothered by Nico coming along. She liked Nico, she liked that Sarah was dating him, she liked that he’d suggested a very nice resort over their original plans and offered to pay the difference, and even though she knew it would mean she would be spending quite a lot of time on her own it was okay. Going on a day tour organised by the resort was perfect, swimming in the cove by the resort was fantastic and, truthfully, even when Jack was the only one around to play tennis against it was fine.

Because he was on the other side of the court and she could unleash any hatred she had in the form of an overhand shot that landed rapidly and directly at his feet or on the other side of the court and make him dive. Jack took it all in stride, as he so often did, and rolled through each dive like the pro-athlete he was.

His diving got more theatrical when a few young women appeared on the next court.

“Are you for fucking real?” Kat grumbled under her breath as Jack missed the easiest shot she’d sent him all afternoon because he was distracted by one of the women waving at him.

Kat couldn’t shake the annoyance she felt with the flirting because there was no way she and Jack didn’t look like a couple and it was just plain rude for them to be flirting so blatantly.

“Do you want to keep going or are we done?”

“Serve it up, let’s go,” Jack responded, unfazed and seemingly unaware that Kat was being more curt with him than normal.

Kat served it directly at his feet and delighted in the panicked jump he took to get out of the way; she was less delighted by the giggles from his new posse        . Really, as much as she didn’t want Jack to be ruining her holiday, the least he could do is pay attention if he was spending time with her.

He held it together long enough to serve it back to Kat in the exact right spot for Kat to lob it back to him rather viciously. The humph that left him as it connected with his stomach was music to her ears and exactly what she needed to be able to leave feeling satisfied.

If Jack noticed that she was leaving the court, he didn’t say a thing.

Kat spent the next day wandering the resort and the island by herself—well, on a resort organised tour. She left before anyone else was awake and arrived back home in time for dinner as a group where nobody questioned her decision to be alone.

It was better than being stuck watching Jack flirt with the gaggle of young women who seemingly followed him everywhere. Including to dinner. He was aware enough, thankfully, to read the looks on her, Sarah and Nico’s faces and understand that his new friend was not welcome.

“If you go on another day trip, can I come?” Jack asked.

“I guess,” Kat said, less reluctant than at the start of dinner. As annoying as she found him and his laugh, he did have a way of wearing her down over every meal; it just never lasted long enough to dissipate completely. “Probably not tomorrow. I’m getting drunk by the pool tonight.”

Jack’s smile was so wide it must have hurt his cheeks when he said, “I could get drunk by the pool.”

They were able to cajole Sarah and Nico into joining them and Kat was grateful for the evening with her best friend and for the distraction from Jack. There wasn’t much swimming done, just some wading into the shallow end between drinks because the staff on duty were sticklers for the no glass in the pool rule.

Sarah talked about the day trips out of the resort, and they agreed that they’d check out the scooter tour through Rhodes both as something different from what they’d both been up to and because they knew that Nico and Jack would undoubtedly do something together that was worth laughing at.

“I’m yours for the rest of the vacation,” Sarah promised. “I know I’ve been the worst friend ever leaving you with Jack.”

“I knew what I was getting into.” Kat was sure that her words were just a little hollow and her smile not entirely convincing because Sarah frowned and then said she was disappearing back to her room for a few minutes but would be right back with a present.

Kat was left with nothing to do but kick her feet under the barstool.

Across the bar she noticed a man sitting by himself and she made a decision—she wasn’t going to be the only person on the trip not getting laid, so she stood up, tried to subtly make her bikini top do something for her tits and walked towards the man with her shoulders back.

She tapped on his shoulder when she reached him, put on her most flirty smile when he turned around, and said, “Hi, I’m Kat. What are you drinking?”

The man’s face went through multiple different facial expressions, none particularly clear but none at all good, and Kat’s confidence shattered into pieces when he laughed so abruptly and so harshly that he immediately started choking.

“Nothing you can afford to buy me, sweetheart, and nothing I’d buy for a girl who got into her mommy’s make up.”

Kat wasn’t entirely sure how she got away, she had no memory of leaving because all she could see in front of her was his face, yet she ended up at the open door of a cubby and hid away in it without hesitation and kicked the door shut behind her.

If she wasn’t willing away the tears in her eyes, she may have been able to appreciate it for the secluded, cozy space that it was and not the stark reminder that she was going to be the only person on her vacation who didn’t have any fun.

The scraping of the door had Kat glaring at the ceiling; none of the details of that were clear either through the tears.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“With you?” she asked, nothing but bite in her voice. “No.”

Footsteps drew closer to her and it was the final straw for a tear to escape—she tried to swiftly wipe it off her cheek before Jack saw. The movement was more than enough to give her away.

“I can go find Sarah but I don’t know if you want to explain and relive that.”

“Explain that I tried to put myself out there and he literally laughed in my face? Probably not.” She inhaled sharply. “Wow, I’m reliving it anyway.”

“I know you don’t like me very much—and don’t lie about it,” he interjected when she opened her mouth to deny. “It’s fine. You don’t have to like me. I just don’t think you should let one guy ruin your trip.”

Kat laughed, so hard that she snorted, at the irony of the one guy who had ruined her trip saying that. Jack preened, thinking he had accomplished something by making her laugh.

“I can handle being rejected,” she said firmly before admitting meekly, “He hit every insecurity I have in like two sentences.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Look, you aren’t exactly my favourite person in the world either but you’re hot and he’s an idiot, so.”

Kat’s mouth opened, and then shut when she couldn’t get any words out. She didn’t even know what words she wanted to say. All she could do was stare up at Jack and try to make sense of what he’d said.

“Don’t make it weird,” he joked as he nudged her thigh with his knee.

Knowing that if she kept looking at him she was certainly going to make it weird, Kat looked out one of the cubby’s windows and briefly caught sight of Sarah returning to poolside with Nico.

“Why did you crash my vacation?” she asked, finally getting to the question she’d been wanting to ask since she heard he’d bought flights.

“Your vacation?” Jack asked incredulously as if it was the first he was hearing about him inviting himself along at all.

“This is a vacation Sarah and I have been thinking about since freshman year,” Kat explained, exasperation growing inside her again as it so often did when Jack was involved. “I barely got over Nico being invited.”

Jack was sure and certain, far less incredulous, and told her, as if he’d had his explanation planned for quite some time, “I crashed your vacation because I knew someone was going to end up being the third wheel. I really kinda thought it’d be Neeks but I was prepared to make you like me if I had to.”

Unable to keep looking away, Kat was taken aback by the soft smile on Jack’s face. She’d never seen him look less than smug and was utterly disarmed by the change. And by the way it made her feel.

“Thank you. For being here. On my vacation and right now.”

“Don’t make it weird,” he said with the same nudge of her thigh as earlier.

He extended his hand to her, saying that they should rejoin Nico and Sarah before they started to worry or ask questions. Kat pretended she didn’t feel the fluttering in her stomach when their hands touched. She also ignored the disappointment she felt when he let go when she was standing.

Instead of walking with her to Sarah and Nico, Jack turned in the direction of the bar. If he were anybody else, Kat might be worried that he was going to find the guy who had rejected her. As little as she actually knew him, it didn’t take much leap in logic to realise he was just going to get them drinks.

Sarah and Nico were sitting at a table closer to the pool than Sarah and Kat had been, a little brown bag on the table in front of them.

“This my present?” Kat asked, reaching out to open the bag slightly. “Oh, yum, baklava.”

She took one of the empty seats and wasted no time tearing open the bag and indulging. Sarah and Nico watched her for a moment, before their eyes shifted back towards the bar, and Kat knew that they’d seen her and Jack leave the cozy cubby together.

“Something you want to share?” Sarah asked, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Nope,” came Jack’s voice from above Kat’s head, shortly followed by his arm and the drink he was placing in front of Kat.

As the moon rose and the sun disappeared completely from the sky, Kat reluctantly admitted to herself that Jack wasn’t all that bad—even his laugh was contagious more than grating in the aftermath of his comforting moment.

Kat took the opportunity when Sarah and Nico went to get another round of drinks to ask Jack, “Did you mean it? That you think I’m hot?”

A familiar smirk formed on Jack’s face, his hand moving to her bare thigh.

“Don’t make it weird, Kat.”

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