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more than just some butterflies / quinn hughes

you make me wanna make you fall in love.

/ or, the one where quinn joins your annual holiday ski trip.

word count: 16K pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader warnings: nothing significant. mild language, mentions of alcohol; friends to lovers, idiots in love.

a/n: this is my fic for @wyattjohnston's the winter fic exchange 2k25, for bre @fallinallincurls. surprise! it's me again. 🥹 i hope this can live up to the summer fic i wrote you. i tried not to reuse any tropes or plot points to give you something new and fresh. and i had to pick quinn because that man just screams cozy winter bf.

you said christmas was your favourite holiday.. so just pretend i posted this in december, like i had originally planned. hope you love it. 🤍

more than just some butterflies

i. i'm better on my own.

"Oh, and Quinn is coming this year."

The entire two-hour drive from Vancouver up to Whistler, and your best friend had waited until she pulled into the driveway of the rented ski chalet to share the news. You could feel her eyes on you, studying your face intently to try and gauge your reaction to the revelation that the Captain of the Vancouver Canucks would be joining your annual Christmas getaway.

What had started as a girls' trip in your first year of university when your best friend, Piper, wasn't able to fly back home to visit her family for the holidays had gradually evolved into an annual tradition. Every year, the group got a little bit bigger as new friends were invited and people began to bring their significant others.

You knew that Piper, who had grown up with Quinn in Michigan, invited him every year to join the trip, but he always politely declined.

The news that he would actually be attending this year's trip caught you a bit by surprise.

He didn't get much time off during the season, that much you knew. The Christmas break was the rare opportunity when he had enough days off in a row to make the flight back to Michigan worth it. So, he always made the trek back home to spend the holidays with his parents and younger brothers on the East Coast.

Maybe the team's schedule had changed, and he didn't have enough time for his usual trip home? It felt a bit out of the blue for him to tag along at the last minute.

Not to mention, you hadn't exactly mentally prepared yourself to be in such close proximity with the soft-spoken defenceman on this trip.

The Canucks' holiday break was short this year, and his parents were spending the holidays with the extended Hughes family in New Hampshire. The idea of spending his limited days off with that many people felt like a bit too much to Quinn, so he had politely opted out.

His family wasn't thrilled, and he had ended up having to rearrange all of his travel plans at the last second in order to make this trip, but Piper knew better than to rat him out like that to you.

"That's nice," you commented, keeping your voice as light and airy as possible. All your attention was focused on keeping your face neutral.

Piper stayed quiet as she put the car into park, eventually glancing over to meet your gaze. She raised her eyebrows expectantly, earning an annoyed sigh from you.

"You must be excited to have your 'oldest friend' joining the group this year," you added in an effort to appease her.

But instead, all Piper did was roll her eyes.

"That's it?" she prodded. "That's all you have to say about that?"

You and Piper never seriously argued. Your friendship was always so easygoing, with only the occasional moment of bickering—except when it came to Quinn. Piper always seemed to have a hidden agenda whenever she brought up the eldest Hughes brother.

"First of all," you warned, "no need to cop an attitude with me."

Piper rolled her eyes but let you continue.

"Secondly, I said it was nice! You're probably excited! What's wrong with that?"

Piper folded her arms over her chest. She twisted around in her seat, leaning back against the door so she could properly face you.

"I don't buy it. That's what's wrong with that," she answered. Her stance was defensive, and you felt an argument was inevitable. "You're supposed to be more excited about the news."

You chewed on the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from spitting out a rushed, sarcastic comment that would only make this situation worse. Instead, you took a deep breath before taking the bait that Piper was obviously dangling.

"And why am I supposed to be excited?"

Piper's jaw dropped. "That's a joke, right?"

You could read between the lines here. You had known Piper long enough to have entire conversations just by looking at each other. You felt this one needed to be clarified out loud, though.

"Do not get started on your whole 'crush on Quinn' tangent again," you warned her. "I am not going to let you ruin this vacation for me by having to listen to you go on about this all week."

Piper's eyes lit up with her signature mischievous spark.

"So, you're telling me you don't have a crush on Quinn?" she practically sang.

"Yes," you replied firmly, hoping your face portrayed how serious you were. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you."

Piper narrowed her eyes as if she was trying to determine how far she wanted to take this fight.

You had met Piper when you were randomly assigned as roommates in your first year of university. She was new to Vancouver, whereas you had grown up there your entire life, absorbing her into your already established local friend group. You were instantly inseparable, even if you bickered like sisters occasionally.

Which is how you met Quinn Hughes.

Quinn and Piper had grown up together, and you quickly began to recognize his name from Piper's stories when she would return home for the summers in university. Their parents were still next-door neighbors, and Piper used to babysit his youngest brother when they were in high school.

When he joined the Canucks, he ended up moving into the same building as her. And just as you had welcomed Piper into your friend group to make her feel more at home in a new city, she began inviting Quinn to join your group every time you all hung out.

Even as Quinn established himself in Vancouver and within the Canucks organization, he still made time for inviting Piper, and by proxy—you, to every team event or outing. It was an odd predicament to find yourself in, your social calendar suddenly booked up with charity galas and team karaoke nights with the Canucks. But all of his teammates and their partners were nice, so you never thought twice about how odd your friendship really was.

When you had met Piper all those years ago, you never would have imagined what your friendship would snowball into. You definitely wouldn't have envisioned it would mean spending your Christmas holidays with the Canucks every year. But that's precisely where you found yourself, mind still reeling with the news that Quinn was invading the one remaining safe space in our life—Piper's annual holiday ski trip.

Piper had suspected there was something more going on between you and Quinn since day one. She reminded you of it at every possible opportunity, as best friends do.

Not that you really knew why.

The first time you had ever met Quinn, both of you had been so awkward it was almost painful to recall. In fact, you spent most of the night not talking to each other until Quinn caught you quietly singing along to the cheesy country song the bar was playing. You cringed every time you recalled the memory, initially thinking Quinn was making fun of you, so you tried to deny even knowing the song.

Until Quinn admitted it was one of his favorites—something all the guys on the team always made fun of him for.

Somehow, you found yourself spending the rest of the night tucked away in a corner booth with Quinn, giggling as you two compared Spotify playlists of your guilty pleasure songs. Quinn was secretly a fan of Top 40 pop hits and knew the lyrics to every embarrassing song you threw at him.

It somehow became an inside joke. Soon after, you found yourselves taking turns sneaking away from the group to request one of these songs at the bar to cheer him up after a game that didn't go his way or slipping one into the pre-party playlist to make you smile.

"I get it, you know?" Piper had told you one night. You two were walking back to your apartment from the bar where you had all met for drinks. "When we were teenagers, I had a crush on his younger brother, Jack, for, like, a summer."

You had tried to dismiss the accusation, but Piper was too many drinks into the night and wasn't taking no for an answer.

"The Hughes are charming," she continued, hiccuping as she tried to get through the sentence. "It's easy to get swept up in it when you're the one they're focusing all their attention on."

Quinn had been charming once you got through the initial awkwardness of your first conversation. And he had continued to be charming every time you had seen him since.

You'd never admit it aloud, but there was something dreamy about him. It was beyond just his boyish good looks and perfectly tousled prince charming hair. He was quiet, a good listener, and made an effort to remember everyone's names, even if it was the first time he was being introduced to them. He went out of his way to care about people.

It always felt like he had gone out of his way to care about you.

You were sure Piper hadn't meant it that way, but her drunken confession had sounded too much like a warning for you to ignore. And more importantly, attention sounded temporary.

So, even though every time you saw Quinn, he made sure to go out of his way to say hi or ask how you were doing, you never allowed yourself to read too far into it. It was an act of self-preservation, really.

You had spent a lot of time together over the years, but it was always in a group, never one-on-one.

And never for as long as you were about to on this trip.

This trip wasn't designed for secret crushes.

Every year, you and Piper drove up to Whistler and stayed at whatever resort you could find the best discount at. You had a routine and a strict holiday schedule, which Piper made sure everyone adhered to: Dinner and board games on Christmas Eve, a Secret Santa gift exchange on Christmas morning, and getting in as many ski runs as possible somewhere in between.

Now, you had to do all of that with Quinn, who you definitely did not have a crush on, even if your stomach seemed to somersault every time Piper said his name.

"Well, Quinn was excited when I told him you were coming," Piper mumbled as she undid her seatbelt.

Before you could respond, she was reaching for the door handle and slipping out of the car.

You scrambled out after her, meeting her at the trunk as she began collecting your luggage. She seemed far too smug about the reaction that her last sentence had enlisted out of you, and you wanted to take her down a notch before this spiraled out of control and she said anything to Quinn.

Placing your hands on your hips, you eyed her cautiously. "Is this some elaborate ruse to put the two sad singles together?"

You were acutely aware that you were the only single person attending this year's trip. Well, you were the only one before you learned Quinn was joining, too, a few minutes ago.

Piper's long-term boyfriend, Carter, was coming, but he was driving up with his sister, Madison, later today. His little sister had tagged along on the trip a few times but hadn't been in a couple of years.

Madison had just started seeing a new girlfriend a few months earlier. Piper had told you she had extended the invitation for Madison's girlfriend to join, but she already had her flights pre-booked to visit her family in Ontario over the holidays. So, while Madison was also attending the trip solo this year, she had someone waiting back home for her and, therefore, didn't count.

And then there was Gemma, the third puzzle piece in your trio. You and Piper had met her at a Canucks team event, where she was there supporting her boyfriend, Brock Boeser. Gemma and Brock had been together since college, and she split her time during the season between their home in Minnesota and Vancouver.

She had instantly fit into your friendship dynamic so seamlessly that you sometimes forgot you hadn't known her your entire life.

Gemma's car was already in the driveway, signaling she had arrived earlier that morning, just as she said she was going to. She was usually the first one to get there, taking the extra time to decorate the cabin before everyone else's arrival.

Brock had a game tonight; his holiday break didn't officially start until tomorrow on Christmas Eve, so he would be driving up first thing the following morning.

Piper probably would have arrived just as early as Gemma had she not had to wait for you to finish work today. You had offered to drive multiple times, but Piper always insisted on taking her car for longer trips. When pressed about it, she'd use the excuse that her car was built to better handle the snow of Whistler highways.

While true, you also knew she didn't want to be subject to two hours of your terrible taste in music. Made worse by the fact your hand-me-down car was so old it still only had a CD player, so she couldn't connect to her Spotify. Apparently, a Bluetooth connection was essential for a good road trip soundtrack.

You had a collection of thrifted and burned mix CDs under your passenger seat that begged to differ.

Now, you felt like the real reason she had insisted on driving was so she could ambush you with the news about Quinn at the last second and leave you with no way to back out of the trip.

"No. Absolutely not." Piper shook her head to emphasize her point as she pulled the final bag from the car. "Elias is coming with him, so there will be three sad singles—you, Huggy, and Petey."

You gawked at your best friend, who ignored the small squeak that slipped out of your mouth. "For the record, I'm not sad," you tried to sputter out.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you cringed. That argument definitely wasn't helping your case.

"Hey, you said it first," Piper shrugged. She shut the trunk of her car, hoisting the strap of the duffle bag up over her shoulder. "Don't shoot the messenger."

She was already making her way up the snow-covered driveway before your brain had time to come up with a coherent response.

With all the shrieks and bear hugs out of your system after Gemma greeted you two on the front porch, you were quickly put to work, helping to finish setting up the cabin before the rest of the group arrived. There was already a beautifully decorated Christmas tree in the living room, but Piper had come prepared with enough garland to build her own forest.

When Piper's boyfriend, Carter, arrived with his little sister in tow, he was put to work to finish the decorating so the rest of the girls could enjoy a drink and officially start the holiday. You were all curled up on the large sectional couch in the living room, enjoying a moment of calm while Carter was tucked away upstairs, wrapping his Secret Santa gift at the last possible moment.

You had assumed enough time had passed that the Quinn conversation was over. So, your guard was down when Piper and Gemma shared a knowing look from across the room.

"So, when do the other sad singles arrive?" Gemma asked.

From the smirk on her face, you knew Piper had relayed your earlier conversation to her while they were wrapping garland and bells around the banister on the staircase.

You groaned at the same time Piper casually answered, "Quinn and Elias will be here tomorrow morning with Brock."

That only made you scowl more.

If Quinn and Elias were arriving with Brock, then Gemma would already be well aware that they were coming and what time they'd be arriving. She was only asking for the sake of her and Piper's little joke, that you had a sinking suspicion wasn't going to be going away any time soon.

"Sad singles?" Madison spoke up. "I think I'm missing something here."

"Two of Brock's teammates," Gemma explained. "They're tagging along for the trip and driving up with him tomorrow morning. They had a game tonight, so they couldn't actually get away until Christmas Eve."

"And we're sad that they're single?" Madison tried to piece together the joke.

"I don't know. Are we?"

Piper's question was aimed at you. You felt Madison turn to watch you, too.

"Piper is convinced I have a crush on Quinn," you told Madison, who instantly cackled. After so many years of Piper and Carter being together, Madison knew how relentless your best friend could be when she had made her mind up about something. "I made a stupid comment earlier about being the sad singles of the trip, and she's really running with it."

With the way Madison giggled and nodded along, you thought that meant she understood and would be on your side. Instead, her smile grew even wider as she asked, "So, do you have a crush on Quinn?"

"Oh, my God," you groaned, sinking back into the couch as your two best friends squealed at Madison's question.

"That's not a no!" Madison managed to get out between her laughter. "What do we think? Is he crushworthy?"

Piper and Gemma both nodded in agreement. Gemma was shoving her phone into Madison's face a moment later, swiping across her screen as she showed her whatever she had so eagerly pulled up. You clued in that they had to be looking at photos of Quinn, which Gemma had pulled up alarmingly fast.

"He is cute!" Madison giggled. She looked up from the phone and glanced your way before swiping to another photo. "And he's the Captain, too? Incredible work."

They swiped through a couple more photos as Madison continued to provide her commentary on all the things that made Quinn crush-worthy. His always impeccably disheveled dark hair. How good he looked in a suit. How nearly every post contained a photo of his younger brothers, with whom he was obviously close.

She particularly loved a photo set of Quinn posed with a group of firefighters, wearing a backward hat. She shrieked, zooming in on the photo before forcing you to high-five her over your 'perfect catch.'

You refused to play along, pulling your hand back until she grabbed your wrist and forcefully clapped your hands together in victory.

"I'm not high-fiving you while you're objectifying Quinn," you grumbled, pulling your hand back.

"We're not objectifying," Gemma corrected. "We're appreciating."

"Big difference, babes," Madison waved you off.

You let the girls enjoy their giggle session, hoping it would allow them to get this all out of their system before the guys actually arrived. You could grin and bear a couple of harmless jokes, but you didn't want to risk them making any of these comments around Quinn and having him take them the wrong way.

"Does he know that you have a crush on him?" Madison asked as she continued to scroll through Quinn's Instagram feed.

"Again, I don't have a crush on him," you repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. But your words went unnoticed.

"She refuses to tell him," Piper spoke up on your behalf.

"They're both hopeless," Gemma added. "This has been going on for years."

"You two just need a little help," Madison suggested. And then her face lit up as if she had just had a moment of brilliance. "Just shove them under some mistletoe, and voilà! Problem solved."

"That's perfect!" Gemma sang. You wanted to protest, but she was already grabbing her phone back and typing away again while the other girls all giggled in delight. "I'll ask Brock to pick some up."

You were surprised Piper hadn't joined in to say she already had mistletoe hanging in every doorway in preparation. She seemed like the type to plan out a surprise attack like that. You also knew how desperately your best friend had been trying to get you and Quinn together.

So, even though the conversation quickly moved on from the topic of your apparent crush on Quinn, you couldn't quite relax for the rest of the evening.

You woke up with that same feeling of unease the following morning.

Always the early riser in the group, you had just placed your empty coffee mug into the sink when you heard car doors shutting echo through the quiet house. Slipping on your coat, you made your way out to the front porch to greet the new arrivals.

By the time you had opened the front door, you were practically barreled over by Brock, rushing inside with his arms full of wrapped presents.

He called out a hello and a quick apology over his shoulder as he scaled the staircase toward the bedrooms two at a time. Clearly, in a rush to reunite with his still-sleeping girlfriend, you yelled directions up the stairs after him.

"Second door on the left, Boeser!"

You cringed as he yelled back a thank you, his loud voice no doubt waking up anyone who was still attempting to sleep in.

Wrapping your coat tighter around you, you carefully made your way down the snowy front steps to where Elias and Quinn were unloading the car Brock had all but abandoned in his rush. At the sound of your footsteps crunching in the snow, Elias looked up, jamming his elbow into Quinn's side to get his attention. He whispered something out of your earshot that made Quinn turn around, his cheeks tinted pink from the cold.

Elias was the first one to put his suitcase down, freeing his hands up to come over and greet you. Quinn sprung back to life as he watched Elias pull you into a quick hug and came over to greet you, too.

"Welcome to Whistler," you laughed as Elias gave you an exaggerated squeeze.

"Thanks for inviting us!" Elias let you go, taking a step back to turn toward the car, where they were in the middle of unloading. Your brow scrunched together at his words, a bit caught off guard as you didn't recall ever inviting or even mentioning the trip to him.

You didn't want to call him out, though, so instead, you smiled and whispered a quiet "Glad you guys could make it" as Quinn pulled you into a hug.

As if muscle memory took over, you melted into his embrace, letting him envelop you entirely in a bear hug. You fit perfectly against him, his chin coming to rest atop your head as he rubbed his hands up and down your back. Neither of you made any move to step away, enjoying the warmth his body was providing in the bitter cold.

The sound of Elias slamming the trunk of the car shut startled you back into reality. You dropped your arms, taking a step back to separate yourself from Quinn.

You hadn't realized how long you two had been standing there or thought it might be a longer-than-usual hug. But you could feel Elias staring at you, catching a taunting smirk from him out of the corner of your eye.

"Sorry we're a bit late," Quinn eventually spoke up. You watched him glance over at Elias, having a silent conversation with his teammate over your head.

"Were the roads okay?" you asked, taking another step back to allow space for Quinn to open the rear passenger side door.

"Yeah, no traffic," Elias answered. "Just had to make a quick pitstop at the gift shop in the village first."

"The gift shop?" you repeated. "Never pictured you as one for souvenirs, Petey. They do have cute mugs, though."

Elias rolled his eyes. "Gemma asked us to pick up the most random list of must-have items, and it was the only store on the way."

So, Gemma wasn't bluffing last night about her request for mistletoe. That would explain why she had been glued to her phone for so much of the evening.

"What could she possibly need that we don't already have here?" you asked, hoping they would prove you wrong.

As if to answer your question, Quinn pulled a brown paper bag from the backseat and handed it to Elias, whose hands were already overflowing with gift bags and his suitcase.

"Christmas crackers and mistletoe," Quinn chuckled, shaking his head. You couldn't help but smile at Quinn's willingness to run your friend's useless errands, all with an easy smile on his face. "And Petey had to charm the girl working there. Couldn't leave until he got her number, otherwise, we would have been here a lot earlier."

"Whatever," Elias muttered as he passed Quinn. "Don't come for me just because I had the balls to ask a girl out when I like her."

You didn't acknowledge the comment, but you watched Quinn glare at the back of his head as he retreated up the front steps and into the house.

Now alone in the driveway, the air felt a bit heavier between you.

"Well, you haven't missed much," you assured, bringing Quinn's focus back to you. His scowl instantly melted away, replaced with a dreamy smile as he locked eyes with you. "We stayed in last night. Everyone wanted to wait for you guys to get here before we headed out for the first ski run of the trip."

You took a moment to take in Quinn fully.

He looked cozy, a welcome contrast to the frigid December weather. The tip of his nose was turning pink, but his travel outfit had him looking warm and inviting. He had a white beanie pulled over his dark curls, the ends of his long hair poking out from under the hat in perfect tendrils that your fingers itched to comb through.

"Thank you for waiting." His voice was quiet as he spoke, the corner of his lips twitching up into the faintest of smiles.

"Of course."

You had to force yourself to look away.

This was… new.

It wasn't that you and Quinn weren't friendly. You usually greeted each other with excited hugs, and conversations floated effortlessly between you two these days. But you couldn't recall a hug ever lingering long enough to catch someone else's attention. Or being so tongue-tied over what to say to him like this.

Trying to avert your gaze, physically stopping yourself from staring at him before you started to creep him out, you noticed the car door was still open.

"Let me help you with your stuff," you offered.

"I got it," he laughed. The deep, raspy sound had your chest tightening with the flutter of what could only be described as butterflies. "But thank you."

Quinn pulled a backpack from the backseat of the car, slinging it over his shoulder. He grabbed another brown paper bag of groceries, no doubt more of the must-have items Gemma had sent him looking for that morning.

You peered over his shoulder into the backseat of the car, which was empty except for a small gift-wrapped box. You weren't surprised to see Quinn packed light. He seemed like the type.

With his hands full, you stepped forward to grab the delicately wrapped present. "You're forgetting the best part," you chastised, picking it up.

It was wrapped in sparkly red paper, with a large gold bow on top, nearly the entire size of the small box. You wanted to ask if Quinn had wrapped it himself or tease him about having paid extra for gift wrap wherever he had purchased the present—but then you saw the tape on it. Every seam was covered in a thick layer of scotch tape, preventing any possible chance of peeking inside to see what was hidden beneath the gift wrap.

He definitely wrapped this himself.

It was endearing, though, to picture him putting the time and effort into wrapping his own gift for the Secret Santa exchange.

So, you held back any jokes, instead silently following Quinn up the front steps and back into the warmth of the cabin. You even resisted the urge to peek under the bow to see whose name might be scribbled across the gift tag as the lucky recipient.

ii. wait! don't go.

Piper always had a schedule; A vacation with Piper was no different.

She worked hard to stick to her itinerary, even as your holiday group grew bigger each year.

No matter how many people ended up crammed into the living room of your rental cabin, Christmas Eve was reserved for playing cheesy board games and watching classic Christmas movies. You'd cook a spread of food, drink way too many holiday-themed cocktails, and at some point, Piper would climb up onto the tallest chair or coffee table she could find to address the group with her annual thank-you speech.

The speech was always your favorite part.

After Brock, Elias, and Quinn had taken a moment to unpack, the entire group went out for the first ski run of the trip. Gemma became your unofficial ski buddy when Brock almost immediately ditched his girlfriend for the double-black diamond hills you two had no interest in attempting. As the sun began to set, that signaled it was time for all of you to head back to the cabin to begin the next part of Piper's holiday tradition.

Freshly showered and changed into warm, dry clothes, Brock brought out a charades board game he had found at the village gift shop. He claimed they had thrown the game in for free when they were picking up Gemma's groceries that morning.

Piper loved starting the night off with a game, so she gathered everyone in the living room to divide up into teams, even though judging by the worn condition of the box, the game was decades older than all of you.

The prompts included in the box confirmed that theory.

The game was a mess, and the charade prompts didn't make any sense. Most of the cards were so old and worn the ink had faded off the page to the point you couldn't read them. The rare card that you could read contained a prompt for a Christmas movie that was so old none of you recognized it.

Conveniently, the sad singles were put together on one team—and you and Quinn were crushing it.

You had no idea how, but you two were guessing every single one correctly. You couldn't stop yourself from giggling as Quinn put his all into the game, making a fool of himself every time he had to act out one of the cards, just for the sake of winning.

No one else seemed to be taking the game as seriously as your team. Your focus was on winning—even as Elias sulked on the couch beside you nearly the entire time. His guesses were awful, and Quinn eventually started ignoring any of his suggestions, instead focusing all his attention on you.

You and Quinn made a good team.

Of course, that was because he was a captain and a natural-born leader. It wasn't anything deeper than that, you tried to tell yourself.

You repeated that mantra in your head a few times, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your cheeks when you would catch his eyes from across the room, even when it wasn't your turn.

If you didn't acknowledge the butterflies, it didn't count.

Your prize for winning charades was getting out of the cooking or cleaning duties for dinner. It hardly felt like a prize, though, as the rest of the group took over the kitchen to prepare dinner and the living room to set up for movie night.

You, Quinn, and Elias had been relegated to the enclosed back porch in an attempt to stay out of everyone's way when they turned down your offers to help despite winning.

"Please just go and relax," Piper insisted, shoving a red solo cup of a too-sweet mixed drink into your hands as she shooed you away.

You were thankful that the owner of the cabin had enough foresight to leave some fleece blankets folded neatly on the couches on the back porch. Despite being enclosed, the windows didn't seem well insulated, and there was still a chill in the air. You weren't sure Piper would let you back into the living room, even if it was just to grab a blanket.

So you were grateful when Quinn handed you one of the blankets, even holding your drink for you while you tucked your legs up under you and draped the blanket over your lap. You wordlessly thanked him as he handed your cup back before taking a seat on the opposite end of the small couch.

There was more than enough room between you for another person to fit, but Elias still headed toward the opposite couch. He tossed a beer can Quinn's way before he took his own seat. Quinn winced as he caught the can, something that didn't go unnoticed by you or Elias.

He looked over to meet your expectant gaze, your eyebrows already raised in silent questioning.

"Did you do that today?" you asked when he made no motion to acknowledge the obvious pain he had just been in.

Quinn switched the can to his other hand, opening and closing his right hand in a fist a few times. No one had mentioned any ski injuries today, but it wouldn't be out of character for the guys to downplay anything that could potentially affect his ability to play.

"No, it was a few weeks ago," he dismissed. But you noticed how he winced again as he flexed his hand. "It's just a hockey injury—a mild sprain. It'll be fine," he smiled weakly.

"It doesn't seem fine," you warned, leaning forward to try and get a better glimpse of his hand.

"It is, no need to worry." He waved you off, cracking open the beer with his left hand. "I was told not to ski, or it might make it worse. Apparently, the team doctors were right."

Elias did his best to smother his laugh with a cough.

"Why would you come on a ski trip when you can't even ski, Quinn?" you laughed, but he just shrugged weakly.

Quinn wasn't about to openly admit that, come hell or high water, he was coming on this ski trip this year. He wanted to spend Christmas with you; a broken hand and the warning not to ski or do anything strenuous weren't going to stop him.

You watched him look over at Elias, silently begging his teammate to join in and say something.

"Uh, did you tell her about that awful song you made us listen to on the drive up?" Elias asked. From the scowl deepening on Quinn's face, you could guess this wasn't exactly the change in subject he had been hoping for. "You said she'd love it, remember?"

"No," you answered for Quinn, tone skeptical. "What song?"

"It was awful," Elias groaned. "The worst part is that I bet Huggy's right, and you will love it."

You tried to hide the blush that you could feel burning at your cheeks from behind the rim of your drink. You bit down on the edge of the plastic cup in a futile attempt to smother the face-splitting grin that was taking over.

Quinn had heard a song and thought of you.

This wasn't a new phenomenon. Your entire friendship had been built on this shared enjoyment of cheesy one-hit wonders and playlists so awful none of your friends ever trusted you with picking the music in any situation.

You were notorious for your out-of-date music taste.

Your oldest cousin taught you how to make mix CDs over summer break one year when you were in middle school. They had long been out of fashion by then; most computers not even able to play them anymore, but she insisted that was what she and all her friends did when they were your age. You thought she was the absolute coolest and wanted to do everything she did. Your new hobby was tacky and out of date, but your friends secretly loved them.

In university, you used to make intricately curated playlists just for your road trips and burn them onto CDs. Piper would roll her eyes affectionately before insisting you take her car instead and just stream some pre-made playlist on Spotify.

What was new about this situation was Quinn had heard a song, thought of you, and told someone else he was thinking of you.

Even if it was just Elias, and they were making small talk in the car during the drive, something about this just felt different. You couldn't put your finger on what it was, but you were definitely going to be reading too far into this as soon as your head hit the pillow that night.

Maybe, despite how desperately you had tried to fight against it and convince yourself otherwise, you did have a tiny crush on Quinn. And the idea that he was thinking of you, that there was some remote realm of possibility where he might also be interested in you, made your heart beat a bit faster.

Piper had made his attention seem like something that would be temporary, but it had been years of shared song recommendations at this point, and every single one felt just as thrilling as the first.

You took a sip from your drink, hoping maybe some of the alcohol would dull the nauseating flutter of butterflies in your stomach. But Quinn's half-smile as he looked back over at you did little to stop the nerves.

"I can't remember the name," Quinn admitted sheepishly. He patted at the pockets of his jeans, feeling for where he had put his phone, but came up empty. It must have still been charging on the dresser in his room. "I wrote it down, but my phone's upstairs."

"You need to start making a playlist or something with all of these songs," you suggested.

"Or put the best of the worst songs onto a CD," Quinn agreed. You were sure your smile was ear to ear at this point, imagining a Quinn-curated CD to add to your road trip collection.

He didn't even know about your burned CD collection; it was a coincidence, but it was close enough to have you jumping to conclusions. You had maybe mentioned the CDs once or twice, but it was always in passing, and he had never commented on it. There was no way Quinn would know where to even buy a blank CD, let alone figure out how to burn songs onto one.

"A CD?" Elias repeated in disbelief. This was the reaction you were used to getting. "How would you even play it? Just make a playlist."

You and Quinn both started answering at the same time, no doubt stumbling out some lame excuse about playlists not being as exciting as an actual CD. You knew Elias didn't actually care about your argument, but you weren't going to let him get away with the snarky comment.

There was something so much more romantic and nostalgic about a physical CD over a group playlist.

Your protest was interrupted by Madison knocking on the doorframe, smiling as she popped her head into the enclosed porch. She glanced at you and Quinn on the couch before setting her sights on Elias.

"Petey, can I borrow you for a minute?" she asked, batting her eyelashes innocently. "I need help hanging some decorations."

"I can help," Quinn offered, already moving to push himself up off the couch.

"No, I need Petey," she clarified. She winked at Elias before looking back at Quinn. "I need his height."

You giggled as Quinn's jaw dropped.

Madison seemed unphased as Quinn gawked at her.

"You two just keep relaxing and looking pretty," she instructed. "We'll call you when dinner is ready!"

"I'm offended," Quinn called after her, but she was long gone. She had already dramatically spun around and disappeared back into the living room.

He glared at Elias, who just shrugged his shoulders before following Madison inside. Quinn shifted in his seat to fully face you, his undivided attention settling on you now that Elias was gone.

"That was offensive, right?" he asked.

"I mean," you shrugged, earning a scoff from Quinn, "he is taller than you."

"Now you're turning on me too?" he placed his hand over his heart, faking hurt. You knew he was joking, but seeing the corners of his mouth turn down in a frown made your heart pang with guilt. "Did that charade win mean nothing to you?"

"At least she called you pretty?" you tried to offer.

He shook his head, taking a sip from his beer before leaning forward to place it on the coffee table. "I think that was directed at you."

"Oh," you exhaled.

You could have sworn Quinn was now sitting closer to you after he straightened back up. This was just your brain playing tricks on you, right?

Your eyes flickered down to Quinn's now free hands. His right hand was resting on the couch between you. If you put your own hand down, your fingertips would be close enough to brush against each other's. Unless you were reading this entire moment wrong.

As you lifted your head, Quinn was already staring back at you. His grey eyes were fixed on you as he pushed an unruly curl back from off his forehead. That knocked all the air out of your lungs.

Your chest felt like it was caving in on itself as the corner of Quinn's mouth turned up into a lazy smirk. As if there was some gravitational pull between you, your body took on a mind of its own as you found yourself leaning in ever so slightly.

That only made Quinn's smile grow.

The sound of silverware clinking against glass brought you crashing back to reality.

"I think that's our cue," you rushed out, jumping up from the couch.

"Cue for what?" Quinn asked, watching as your shaking hands folded the blanket and placed it back on the couch.

"Piper's big Christmas speech," you answered.

You felt a bit dizzy from standing up so quickly, or maybe from how close Quinn had been to you only moments before. But nothing had even happened. You tried to keep your breathing steady, hoping Quinn wouldn't notice how frazzled you were just from having him look at you.

If Quinn had noticed how jumpy you suddenly were, he didn't call you out on it. Instead, he cocked his head to the side as he asked incredulously, "She makes a speech?"

"Every year," you nodded.

You had forgotten that this was Quinn's first time on the ski trip, and he had yet to experience Holiday Piper. It was hard to imagine she hadn't made him sit through a big speech at another holiday in all the years they'd known each other. You always imagined there had to be a Fourth of July speech she'd give each summer, too.

Or, maybe Michigan Piper was calmer and more reserved, so this was an all-new side that Quinn got to experience of your shared best friend.

"Are the speeches good?" Quinn asked, standing to join you as you made your way back inside.

Well, that confirmed he had never experienced Holiday Piper before. He was in for a real treat this week.

"Never," you laughed. "But you'll love it."

You stepped across the threshold to re-enter the cabin but hung back and lingered in the entryway to the living room. Quinn came to a stop beside you, his eyes lighting up at the sight before him of Piper perched precariously on top of the arm of the couch so she could tower above everyone else.

"Holy shit," Quinn muttered in amusement. "This is going to be good."

You laughed at Quinn's whispered joke before swatting at his bicep to shut him up. You didn't want to end up in trouble with Piper, even if you knew this part of her holiday tradition was a bit over the top.

As you tried to cover your residual giggles with your drink, you looked over to where Piper was standing on the couch to face the entire group. But Piper was already looking back at you—and the smile she wore told you she was up to something.

A pit instantly formed in your stomach.

Well, that was one way to calm the butterflies.

"Something funny?" she asked. All eyes turned to focus on you, wanting to see what Piper was talking about. You slowly lowered your hand from Quinn's arm as you shook your head.

"Of course not, Pipes," Quinn smiled easily. "We're all ears."

"Great!" she cheered, but her smile still looked far from innocent. "Now, look up."

Your gut told you that you knew what you were going to find before even looking.

Madison looked far too pleased with herself when she declared she needed Elias' height to help her hang some decorations. Unsurprisingly, one of those decorations was the newly added bunch of mistletoe hanging directly above you and Quinn in the doorway.

You peeked over at Quinn, who you hadn't realized you had been standing so close to. He was still looking up at the mistletoe, biting down on his bottom lip as if he were deep in thought.

"Come on, Huggy," Brock heckled as the rest of the group cheered. "Kiss her already."

You were sure Quinn was about to walk away or tell off the group as he glanced between Brock and Piper before ultimately looking back down at you. And then he finally leaned in, angling his face so you didn't bump noses.

The kiss was hesitant at first as if he was testing the waters on whether you'd shove him away or not. Your eyes fluttered shut, hands coming to rest on his chest to try and ground yourself. With such an audience watching you, you expected it to be a polite peck.

Quinn seemed to have other plans as his hand came up to cradle your neck. His thumb rubbed soothingly along your jaw as his tongue gently coaxed your lips apart. You found yourself curling into him, rising onto your tiptoes to get as close as possible, as he tilted your head back ever so slightly to deepen the kiss.

Your friends erupted in cheers and laughter, but the sound was muffled by how hard your heart was beating in your ears. All that existed in that room was you and Quinn. The scratch of his overgrown facial hair was a contrast to his soft lips as he continued to kiss you, well beyond what would have been considered a friendly mistletoe kiss.

You slowly pulled back, trying to catch your breath as you wrapped your mind around what had just happened. You didn't have any words yet, searching Quinn's face for some sort of confirmation that you hadn't just imagined this.

Quinn seemed equally as shell-shocked, as if he hadn't expected that to happen either. As if he hadn't just been the one to kiss you like that.

The spark was undeniable for you. Your entire body still felt as if there was an electric current flowing through it, every nerve ending suddenly on fire.

There was no way Quinn didn't feel it, too.

But as you watched Quinn tuck his swollen bottom lip between his teeth, that confidence began to fade. His eyes searched yours for a moment, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

He delicately tucked your hair behind your ear before taking a small step back. His voice was low, barely a murmur that only you could hear as he mumbled out a soul-crushing "Sorry."

He was sorry?!

That had to be the worst possible thing you could hear after a first kiss, especially one that made you feel that desired.

Was he sorry for kissing you or sorry for doing it so publicly?

Maybe it was a pity gesture to not put you on the spot and be so publicly rejected in front of all your friends. Whatever it was, it stamped out the fire from the crush you had felt bubbling up for him only moments earlier.

Maybe it was a much-needed reality check after letting yourself get too caught up in Quinn's attention today.

As Piper tapped her glass to get everyone's eyes back on her, you wordlessly downed the rest of your drink. Without bothering to look back, you made your way across the room to settle into the open seat next to Gemma—as far away from Quinn as possible.

iii. it's all i've ever known.

You were the first one up on Christmas morning.

You were always the early riser, so it was nothing new to be the first one awake out of the group. You hadn't slept much last night anyway.

Instead, you had tossed and turned all night, staring at the ceiling as your mind replayed every moment that had led up to your mistletoe kiss—and the distraught look on Quinn's face as he apologized afterward.

You had avoided Quinn for the rest of the night.

Whatever you thought that kiss might have been in the moment, the reality was it was just a nothing gesture to go along with the group's joke. Quinn must have realized you took it more seriously than he had meant it, and that's why he apologized.

You made yourself a cup of coffee, curling up on the old leather armchair in the living room with a throw blanket draped over your lap. You tried to focus on the lights twinkling on the tree as you sipped on your coffee, trying to force your mind from wandering back to Quinn.

Try as you might, your lips still tingled with the feeling of his against yours. If you closed your eyes, you swore you could still smell that mix of his cologne and the hint of beer on his breath. Your skin burned where his hands had cupped the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet his height.

It was something out of a romance novel.

And it was probably going to haunt you forever.

You heard Piper get up first, the sound of her laughter floating down the hallway. Knowing she'd want a cup, you made your way to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee for her. You refilled your own mug before grabbing a second one from the cupboard.

You could hear Piper's voice coming closer but couldn't quite make out what she was saying or who she was talking to. You listened to the heavy click of the front door closing before Piper appeared in the kitchen alone.

She smiled at you as she graciously took the steaming mug of coffee, exchanging a quick round of Merry Christmas.

"Who were you talking to?" you asked as she blew some of the steam from her cup, cooling down the coffee before taking her first sip.

"Quinn and Petey," she answered. The briefest of frowns appeared on her face before she added, "They won't be joining us for breakfast this morning."

"And where are they off to?" You tried to seem casual as you asked it.

Piper didn't even hesitate as she replied, "I think Elias is sneaking off to see the girl that works at the gift shop."

"They're open on Christmas morning?"

The skepticism was evident in your voice. You eyed Piper as she took another sip of coffee. Your best friend wasn't a good liar. She had too many tells to be good at keeping a secret, but right now, she seemed calm, cool, and collected.

So, why were you so doubtful that she was telling the whole truth here?

Piper shrugged, which did little to garner any belief from you. "She must be opening the shop early just for him."

"And that's a two-person activity?" you pressed.

"Well, Quinn had to—" She trailed off, waving her hand in some vague gesture as if that was supposed to explain anything. "Any more questions for me, Akinator?"

"Yes, actually," you scowled, not acknowledging her insult. You knew better than to fall for her weak attempt at a diversion. "Why did Elias thank me for inviting them yesterday?"

Piper had unknowingly given you the perfect segue into confronting her on something that had been nagging at the back of your mind since yesterday. That one caught Piper off guard. She hesitated for a moment before giving you a sheepish shrug of her shoulders.

"Uh," Piper smiled coyly, "because they think you did?"

"And why would they think that?" you asked through gritted teeth.

Piper groaned, realizing you weren't going to drop this. Her vague answers weren't cutting it. You knew she was a lousy liar, and it wouldn't take much to make her crumble.

"Quinn needed some, uh, encouragement," she tried to explain. "So I told him you wanted them to come."

"Piper!"

"What?" She threw her hands up in defense—as if she actually couldn't understand why that would upset you. "Was that a lie?"

"Yes," you shrieked. "Yes, because I never said that!"

"You didn't have to say it." Piper waved you off again. "You two just needed a little help. We've been over this."

Annoyingly, this sounded exactly like last night's conversation. The same conversation you two had on your drive up to Whistler. One you seemed to have every time Quinn was invited to something.

"Help with what?" you asked, completely exasperated at this point. You were done with having this argument seemingly every day. "You all keep saying that."

"You like him—"

"Piper." You cut her off with a stern warning.

"Fine," she spat. "Be stubborn about it. But the reality is, Quinn likes you, and he wanted to come on this trip—he's been wanting to come, but he's nervous to be around you. So, I told a little white lie to make him more comfortable and get him to come on the trip."

She raised her eyebrows, silently challenging you to say something more. When all you did was sigh, she smiled victoriously.

You just rolled your eyes, biting your tongue with any follow-up questions. Piper seemed uncharacteristically calm about the two hockey players skipping the group breakfast on Christmas morning. If she wasn't upset about what was pulling them away from the group's planned schedule, it didn't seem like your place to continue to pry.

As the rest of the group sat down for breakfast, no one seemed phased by the two empty chairs at the end of the table. You weren't going to be the one to bring it up and cause a scene. The last thing you were going to do was give Piper and Gemma a reason to wonder why you were looking for Quinn.

They probably went for an early morning ski, you tried to tell yourself. But with the state of Quinn's hand yesterday, that seemed unlikely. Even more unlikely because Brock hadn't joined them, and he was the avid skier of the group.

They couldn't have left entirely, as Brock was still here, and they had arrived in his car.

As breakfast wrapped up, Quinn and Elias eventually returned. You heard them arrive before you saw them, the sound of the front door opening and then clicking shut again. They made their way into the main living space, where everyone was gathered around the table.

Quinn had his hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie, trailing a few steps behind Elias.

"Nice of you to join us," Brock greeted them. "And where were you two lovebirds off to this morning?"

Quinn faltered, looking frantically between Piper and Elias. His mouth opened and then closed a few times before Elias finally jumped in—not before rolling his eyes at his Captain.

"We found this sick outdoor rink in the village."

That wasn't what Piper had told you in the kitchen that morning. Something wasn't adding up here. Whether Elias was telling the truth or not, his answer rolled off his tongue easily.

"We can go back if you want to check it out," Elias added. "It was completely empty. We'd have the whole thing to ourselves."

Before anyone could object, Carter and Brock were both pushing their chairs away from the table.

"I'm in," Brock answered first, kissing Gemma on the head as he stood up.

"But we haven't even done gifts yet!" Piper cried as she watched Carter stand up.

"We'll do them after," Carter assured. "We've got all day, no need to rush."

When Piper didn't immediately object, Carter beamed. She let out a huff, signaling she was giving in.

"Thanks, babe," he smiled, grabbing his plate to bring to the kitchen. "I'll see you in a bit!"

"And we're not even invited?" Piper sputtered out.

Carter froze like a deer caught in headlights. Piper was handling her Christmas Day plans being spoiled quite well. Blowing up his girlfriend's plans and then not inviting her to join may have been pushing Carter's luck a bit too far.

Brock effortlessly came to his rescue.

"Did you pack skates?" he asked.

Piper scoffed, answering his question for him. You guessed it was to be expected that a group of hockey players would bring their own skates with them wherever they went.

Evidently, that was the one item not on Piper's packing list.

"Sorry, we'll see you in a couple of hours, then," Elias called, already heading back toward the front door.

With breakfast all cleaned up, the four remaining girls decided to spend the day curled up on the couches, watching Christmas movies as you waited for the rest of the group to return. The movie in the background was quickly forgotten about as the conversation drifted toward what could possibly be wrapped in the gifts under the tree—particularly the one Brock had placed under the tree for Gemma.

"He knows better than to propose on Christmas," Gemma had scoffed when you told her the box looked a bit too big to be an engagement ring. "I've already warned him to never do that."

"Does that mean it's happening soon?" Piper asked, her eyebrows raised.

"I don't know about soon," Gemma tried to downplay, "but we've talked about it happening sometime this year. When the timing feels right, you know?"

You all shrieked at her answer, Piper grabbing Gemma's shoulder to give it an excited shake. "The first wedding in the group is finally happening," Piper sang. "I've been planning this for years!"

Piper was the mastermind behind this trip every year; it was only to be expected that she would be the official party planner for every bachelorette or engagement party the group would have. And you knew she'd be good at it, too, perhaps more excited about the party planning than the actual wedding.

"I can't believe it's finally happening," you sighed, leaning your head on Gemma's shoulder.

You let your mind drift to a daydream of Brock and Gemma's fairytale wedding, probably held on a beautiful lakefront property somewhere in Minnesota. You imagined how stunning Gemma would look walking down the aisle, clutching hands with Piper as you sobbed happy tears during speeches.

Except Piper would probably be crying on Carter's shoulder. And you would be... at the single's table?

"Oh my God," you groaned, unnecessary panic already taking over.

You couldn't go to one of your best friend's weddings alone. You also couldn't bring some casual Tinder date, either. You had always imagined you'd have a boyfriend whenever this happened. You were never sure who, but when you daydreamed about planning Piper and Gemma's big days, you were almost certainly never alone at the wedding.

"I can't believe it's finally happening, and I'm not prepared," you cried.

"You're not prepared?" Gemma repeated with a laugh. "What do you need to be prepared about for me to get engaged?"

"I can't go to your wedding alone!" you tried to explain. "Can you tell Brock to at least wait until I have a boyfriend, please?"

"Come on, she's already waited long enough," Madison joked.

"Yeah, don't make the poor girl wait another seven years," Piper added.

You groaned as you threw your head back onto the couch. You were going to have to show up to Gemma's wedding alone and spend the entire night as everyone's third wheel. Brock hadn't even proposed yet, and you were already miserable at the prospect of having to show up single.

Your relationship status had never bothered you, never defined you. But this was different.

These were your best friends. You were all supposed to find your soulmates and be there to witness each other get married. It seemed like everyone else had done so, but you hadn't been paying attention.

"Or, you could go with Quinn," Gemma muttered under her breath. She shrugged, almost disinterested in the suggestion when you looked over at her. "I mean, he'll be at the wedding anyway. They are teammates, after all."

"And why would I do that?" You didn't mean to sound as defensive as your words came out, but after everything that had happened last night, mixed with the dread of having to go to Gemma's hypothetical wedding alone, you were a bit on edge.

"Because he's in love with you," Madison deadpanned.

"No, he isn't," you dismissed. You threw the blanket off your lap, getting up to refill the popcorn bowl in an attempt to keep yourself busy and deflect some of your nervous energy. "You don't know that."

"Yes, actually we do," Piper protested, reaching up to grab the popcorn bowl from your hands. She wasn't going to let you escape this conversation that easily. You should have suspected that going in as soon as Gemma said Quinn's name.

"We're friends," you spat out through gritted teeth for what felt like the millionth time.

"Come on," Gemma waved off your protest. "Nothing about your dynamic has ever been friendly."

"And that mistletoe kiss?" Madison continued. "Come on! There was some real heat there."

"Had me thinking I wanted Quinn to kiss me like that," Piper agreed.

Your jaw dropped, staring at your best friend in disbelief at what she had just said. Piper shrugged in response, giving you an innocent smile.

"What?" she asked. "It was hot!"

You expected Gemma to join in and tease Piper for what she had just said, but she seemed unphased. Instead, she took a sip from her cup of coffee, pausing for dramatic effect before she added nonchalantly, "Almost like there were years of pent-up emotions all coming up at once for both of you."

Placing your hands on your hips, you glared at the three girls who had all seemingly teamed up against you. You were outnumbered, and you could cry and shout about not liking Quinn until you were blue in the face, and you knew they still wouldn't waver in their delusion. Your only option was to try and beat them at their own game—to hit them with solid reasoning rather than feelings.

"So what you're saying," you spoke slowly, "is that you think Quinn has been playing the long game here. He could have literally any girl in Vancouver, and yet he's been waiting all this time just to try and hook up with me?"

"No, that's not at all what I said," Madison insisted. She folded her arms over her chest, doubling down in her argument. "That's not what any of us said. We said he's in love with you."

You couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Madison had just met Quinn for the first time ever yesterday. What could she possibly know about your friendship, or Quinn's feelings, for that matter, after less than 24 hours? Whatever narrative she was trying to sell was formed purely based on Piper and Gemma's exaggerated stories.

"You think he can have any girl in the city, huh?" Gemma smirked. She looked rather proud of herself for picking up on that. "You're that down bad?"

"Because he's a hockey player, Gemma," you scoffed. "Don't be daft."

She should know better than anyone that the Canucks carried royalty status in the city during the season. Bragging that you were an NHL player—the Captain of the team, no less, was probably enough of a line to get any girl to go home with you.

"You're the one being daft," Gemma snapped.

That comment must have struck a nerve because the playful lilt in her voice was no longer there. She was scowling, arms folded firmly across her chest as she stared you down.

You dropped your arms to your side, letting your defensive facade crumble. You had to take a deep breath to pull your thoughts back together. Going on the offense wasn't working here. The last thing you wanted was for this to spiral into a full-blown fight and have to explain to the guys when they returned why suddenly none of you were talking to each other anymore.

"I like our dynamic the way it is, okay?"

That was a lie.

You didn't even believe the words as you were saying them. You couldn't even stand to be in the same room as Quinn right now. After last night, you weren't sure you were even going to be friends moving forward, let alone the more that Piper and Gemma insisted you could be.

"No need to rock the boat," you finished timidly.

"What if he wants to rock the boat?" Madison asked quietly.

"He doesn't—"

"You know, he has you for Secret Santa," Piper spoke over the top of you, cutting you off.

"No, I don't know," you sneered. "That's why it's called Secret Santa."

Piper ignored the annoyance in your voice, shrugging. "He asked to trade with me so he could have you."

"That doesn't mean anything," you tried to argue. "Quinn knows me, and I'm easy to shop for."

The girls all exchanged a look that made you roll your eyes. You threw your hands up in defeat, making a big dramatic show of flopping back onto the couch between Piper and Gemma.

You were done with this conversation. You were done with trying to justify your feelings to everybody.

Quinn had apologized after you kissed. That wasn't the move of someone who was secretly in love with you. That was something you did out of guilt when you crossed a line you knew you shouldn't have.

You were done with blurry lines and unrequited feelings.

You were done with Quinn.

But Piper always had to have the last word.

"All I'm saying is," Piper chimed in with a knowing smile, "there's no way you can open his gift and still deny that he's in love with you."

iv. can i take it back now?

Piper's threat, or promise, depending on how you wanted to look at it, had taken up real estate in your head. For the rest of the movie, you struggled to focus on anything else other than your best friend's words and the odd body language between Piper and Gemma.

They both knew what Quinn had wrapped for you under the tree. And it seemed to be fueling their narrative that Quinn had feelings for you. You didn't want to give in to the thought.

You had a momentary lapse in judgment yesterday and allowed yourself to get caught up in the idea of something more happening between you and Quinn. All that had left you with was the haunting memory of a passionate first kiss and the inability to even make eye contact with him.

The words rang in your head as the guys finally returned, noses red and hair damp with sweat from their 'friendly' scrimmage. You tried to dismiss the thoughts, telling yourself you were giving them too much weight for no reason.

You couldn't stop your fingers from shaking with uncertain anticipation as the assortment of gifts under the tree were finally handed out—well behind schedule, much to Piper's frustration.

The guys had all insisted on showering and changing before the group finally crammed onto the couches in the living room, huddled around the tree. Your brain had been running wild, trying to imagine what was under the sparkly red wrapping paper Quinn had handed you when he first arrived.

Dawning a crooked Santa hat, Carter was tasked with handing out everyone's gifts. He moved around the room, reading the names from the gift tag before dropping presents into everyone's lap.

When he reached you, a different box was placed in your lap. Mildly confused, you double-checked the gift tag on the box to make sure Carter hadn't mixed anything up, but it had your name scribbled in Quinn's unmistakable messy handwriting.

This was not the present you had put under the tree for Quinn. This box was much bigger, wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with twine. There was nowhere near as much tape on the edges of the paper, too.

This gift had been wrapped by someone else—probably an employee, judging by how neatly the corners were folded.

As Elias went first, unwrapping his gift from Madison, you took the opportunity to glance around the room and survey everyone else's presents. None of them were in that sparkly red wrapping paper.

Underneath, the tree was bare, too. There were no leftover gifts waiting to be handed out. You were so sure the gift had been there yesterday. You had placed it there yourself!

And now it was gone.

You tried to smile through the inner spiral, not wanting anyone to pick up on your suddenly sour mood. There wasn't even anything to be upset about yet. Quinn had bought you a gift, just as he was supposed to. Whatever had Piper so convinced Quinn had feelings for you could still be sitting in your lap at that very moment.

You didn't know what had been in the other gift, so you couldn't be upset over it. You had also never checked the gift tag. There was no telling if that other present had ever even been for you. But with everyone else's gifts accounted for, where could it have gone?

The gift you had seen before must have been for someone else.

Was there someone else? Another gift exchange, perhaps.

Or, worse, it was a gift for Quinn from someone else.

Maybe that's where he had disappeared this morning. It would explain why he was so tongue-tied when confronted on it, not wanting to admit in front of the group that he had snuck off to open gifts on FaceTime with some secret long-distance girlfriend.

The thought of that left your entire body feeling deflated. As if your body wanted to betray you, you could feel your eyes beginning to sting with fresh tears. Tears of frustration, of course. Frustration for letting yourself get hopelessly caught up in such a romantic story.

A romantic yet unrequited story.

Brock, calling your name, interrupted your pity party. When you looked up, everyone was staring expectantly at you. You were up next and judging by the way Brock raised his eyebrows as you looked at him, it had been your turn for a while.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you caught Gemma subtly pinching the side of his thigh, which had his mouth snapping shut.

Mumbling out a vague apology, you hooked your finger under the fold of the wrapping paper to tear the seam open. Pulling the paper away, there was a dark green box inside, stamped with the logo of the village gift shop on top. Before opening the top of the box, you glanced up at Quinn to try and gauge his reaction. But he seemed unphased, almost bored, as he stared at the box in your hands.

Opening the lid of the box, you saw a mug inside, wrapped delicately with tissue paper. You knew what the mug would look like before you took it out of the box. You bought a couple of these over the years as a way to keep a memento from each year's trip. On the front of the mug was the silhouette of a mountain, the name of the ski resort embossed in cursive gold writing.

To Quinn's credit, it was the same mug you had pointed out in the window when you all passed the gift shop yesterday on your way to the ski lift.

What didn't make sense to you was why he would trade Piper for you if he was just going to leave your gift to the last minute? This was out of character. Maybe it wasn't so much the last minuteness of the gift, but the actual present didn't make much sense.

Piper had been gushing over the painting Quinn had commissioned for his youngest brother. All she had been talking about was how sweet and sentimental the gift was and that Quinn had this quiet emotional side most people didn't get to see. She had to be mixing up some other gift with this mug if she thought this was going to be an undeniable display of his feelings for you.

It was a cute gift, but it wasn't some surefire declaration of love.

So, why was that suddenly so disappointing to you?

You didn't like Quinn. You couldn't like Quinn.

He had made it very clear he wasn't in love with you or whatever Madison was convinced of. This was the final confirmation you needed that everyone was misreading these supposed signs.

"You don't have that one yet, right?" Elias asked.

"N-no." You looked up at Elias, putting on the best fake smile you could muster. "No, I don't."

Elias nodded his head, almost proud of himself.

That would have been the icing on top of the cake if Quinn hadn't even been the one to buy the gift. He had outsourced the present to Elias. You'd keep that in your back pocket for the next time Piper started on one of her tangents.

You could counter and argue that Elias had to be the one secretly in love with you if the only requirement was to buy you a present.

"Thanks," you managed to squeak out, bravely looking over to Quinn.

All Quinn did was nod his head. He wouldn't meet your eyes, seemingly more interested in picking at a loose thread on the arm of the couch.

Piper seemed annoyed, an uncharacteristic glare on her face that appeared to be directed at Quinn. But when she caught you staring, the scowl disappeared and was replaced with her usual carefree smile.

You couldn't quite put your finger on what this emotion felt like—but it definitely wasn't love.

v. you're all i wanna know.

The end was finally in sight.

After what could only be described as a lackluster round of Secret Santa, Piper, Gemma, and Madison seemingly abandoned their Quinn is in love with you campaign. Their pointed looks and subtle jabs eventually fizzled out—oddly reflective of this week's short-lived crush on Quinn.

Boxing Day had been spent skiing. You saw Quinn in passing a few times, but it was easy to hang back and time your spot in line so you didn't end up on the ski lift together. And then you called it an early night as soon as you all returned to the cabin.

Quinn, Brock, and Elias had to leave on the 27th. Their holiday break was short this year, and they had a game the following night in Vancouver. They were set to leave early in the morning so they could be back in time for practice. The coaching staff had been nice enough to push back the start time, opting for an early afternoon skate to get everyone's legs moving again after the holidays rather than their usual early morning practices.

As much as the rest of the group was disappointed to have to say goodbye to the trio so soon, you'd be lying if you said you weren't relieved. You and Piper weren't heading back home until Sunday, which meant you'd now have a few days without Quinn's haunting presence to enjoy the rest of your winter getaway before you had to go back to the real world.

So, when you woke up on the 27th, your chest finally felt a little bit lighter.

You were avoiding saying goodbye to him, though.

Always the first one awake, it was obvious to everyone you were pretending to sleep in late to avoid some sort of awkward goodbye. If Quinn came close enough to hug you, you'd probably explode.

Or, worse, he'd ignore you—skip you in the line of goodbyes and solidify that whatever fragment of friendship you had was officially over.

You rolled over to check your phone, confirming today's date. You wracked your brain to try and count back the weeks—you had to be due for your period or something.

Your sudden misjudgment and feelings for Quinn were just a biological response to too many hormones flooding your system right now. It wasn't like you to be so hung up on some guy like this.

That had to be it.

Because at the end of the day, that's all Quinn was to you. As much as you liked to romanticize your dynamic in your head, read between lines that weren't actually there; he was just. some. guy.

When the noise and commotion eventually quieted down, you finally kicked off the covers and climbed out of bed. You assumed the sudden quiet meant that the goodbyes were over and it was safe to venture down into the kitchen.

Piper was alone in the kitchen, much to your relief, leaning against the counter as she scrolled on her phone. She briefly glanced up as she heard your footsteps approaching. She raised her eyebrows at you but didn't press.

You never slept this late. Piper knew you weren't actually sleeping.

She knew you were avoiding Quinn.

"Hey, Piper!" Gemma's voice called from the foyer. "Quinn's backpack is still on the dresser in his room. Can you grab it, please? We all have our shoes on."

"Yeah, on it!" Piper called back. She looked up at you, the corner of her mouth twisting into a wicked smile. "Would you mind grabbing that?"

Your eyes bugged, caught off guard by Piper's question. "She asked you," you pleaded.

"I know, and I would, but—" she gestured to the toaster oven sitting on the kitchen counter in the corner, "I'm making some toast and don't want it to burn."

You looked at the toaster oven, which was very clearly turned off, and then back to Piper. It wasn't even plugged in. What an unbelievable excuse.

She gave you a sweet smile—one that told you you weren't going to win this one. This was Piper's final hurrah. You could sleep all day, and she still would have found a way to get the last word in.

"Fine," you snapped, frustration evident in your voice.

This was precisely what you had been trying to avoid. You had been locked away in your bedroom, scrolling on your phone for hours, in a desperate attempt to not have to see Quinn at all today.

And you, hopefully, could still do that. You'd grab the backpack, appease Piper, and then hand it off to Gemma at the front door and not have to see Quinn.

Piper almost seemed shocked; that was all it took to get you to agree. Her jaw was hanging open as if she couldn't believe she had won as you brushed past her toward the staircase.

Just as Gemma had said, Quinn's backpack was sitting on the dresser in the guest room he had been staying in. As you grabbed the backpack, the zipper seemed to snag, and a piece of gold ribbon came loose. The end of the ribbon was caught in the top closed drawer and came unraveled as you hastily picked up the bag.

Cursing, you opened the drawer to free the caught ribbon before unzipping the backpack to stuff it back into the bag. But you only seemed to make it worse, the loose ribbon catching in the teeth of the zipper, ripping the entire bow off. When you finally pulled the bow free, it still had a matching gold gift tag attached.

Curiosity got the best of you, flipping the gift tag over to see what it was. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but finding your name scribbled across the gift tag definitely wasn't it.

Below your name was a short note, also in Quinn's handwriting.

I wasn't sure how to say this, so I made you a playlist of all the moments that made me think of you. Q.

That didn't make much sense as a note to accompany a mug.

Quinn was outside, waiting patiently to leave, while here you were, snooping through his bag. You should just shove the note back into his backpack and bring it down to Gemma, pretending you never saw a thing.

As you went to shove the gift tag back inside, the backpack made an unmistakable crinkling sound. Just inside was that sparkly red wrapping paper you had been on the lookout for. Hidden inside his backpack was the gift you had placed under the tree on the first day.

It was addressed to you. That meant you were allowed to open it, right?

You could open it, see what was inside, and then put it back, and he'd never know. Before you had time to talk yourself out of all the ways this was a terrible idea, you were ripping through the multiple layers of tape and pulling back the wrapping paper.

Inside was a blank CD case. Flipping it over, there was a tracklist scribbled onto the back in Quinn's handwriting. Skimming through the song titles, you couldn't help but smile. It was a collection of all the songs you two had swapped over the years. Every awful but catchy pop song or guilty pleasure throwback was there, and he had added short notes after each song title as if providing a running commentary

It was the final song on the tracklist that had your breath catching in your throat.

The cringe-worthy country song that had been playing the night you two had met—the same one that had started this entire friendship. It was an obvious pick to add to this playlist because it was the song you two always came back to, playing it nearly every chance you could.

What wasn't obvious was the note Quinn had scribbled below it. You reread it a few times, finding yourself biting on your lower lip to try and suppress your smile.

Who knew a song this bad would lead to something this good?

Piper had said when you opened his gift, you wouldn't be able to deny that he was in love with you. She also looked annoyed when you unwrapped the gift shop mug. This CD felt more in line with what you would have expected as a grand gesture.

Not only had Quinn heard these songs and thought of you, but he had remembered them all. Each one more significant than the last—and then he had put them all together for you.

This felt like the gift you were supposed to have opened on Christmas.

You taught Piper how to burn your own CDs in your freshman dorm room when you first introduced her to the mix CDs your cousin had given you. She had made a couple over the years but was never as into it as you were. She had to have been the one to help Quinn make this.

That would explain how she knew what his gift was.

And what his intention was behind the gift.

Quinn wasn't the most vocal guy in the room, but he was always paying attention. You weren't quite sure how you could so obviously miss this when seemingly everyone else had caught on before you. This was the sentimental side Piper had tried to tell you about.

The side you undoubtedly were in love with, too.

With the CD in one hand and Quinn's backpack in the other, you took off back down the stairs. Stopping only for a moment at the front door to shove your feet into the first pair of slippers you saw, you brushed past Brock and Gemma on the front porch. Elias was already in the passenger seat, while Quinn was at the trunk, loading their remaining bags into the car.

You knew you looked ridiculous, dressed only in the tank top and sweatpants you had slept in last night, but you didn't care. You were far more focused on seeing Quinn before he left, calling out his name as you jogged toward the car.

He stepped aside, poking his head around the side of the car. He did a double-take at you rushing toward him.

You dropped his backpack from your grasp, momentarily flinching at the thought there could be something breakable in there, before refocusing on the task at hand.

"What are you—"

With your hands now free, you cut him off abruptly by grabbing the front of his hoodie and pulling him down into a kiss.

Caught off guard by your sudden forwardness, it took Quinn a moment to realize what was actually happening before you felt him kiss you back. His hand came up to rest on the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you in closer.

You went to pull away, needing a second to catch your breath and wrap your head around what you had just done. But Quinn's grip only tightened, his other hand snaking around your waist to press you against him. You couldn't help the giggle that slipped out as you felt him smile into the kiss.

If you were still trying to convince yourself you didn't have feelings for Quinn, if the CD of your secret shared songs wasn't confirmation enough; the butterflies aching in your chest and the rush of blood to your head from just a kiss said otherwise.

Coming up for air, you felt Quinn's grip on your waist tighten, fingers flexing into the small of your back. He wasn't letting you go far. Resting your forehead against his, your noses brushed together as you whispered out a quiet "Thank you."

"No, thank you."

His voice sounded dazed, almost far away, despite how closely you were intertwined. And then he lifted his head, blinking a few times, as if he were coming back to reality.

"Wait," he mumbled, his eyes searching your face as his own scrunched together in confusion. "I mean, what—what was that for?"

"Thank you for the gift."

His head cocked to the side, an unruly curl springing out of place and coming to rest across his forehead. You had already thanked him for the present, albeit a short and sweet thanks, before you had stuffed the mug back into the box and continued to ignore him for the rest of the night. And the following day.

It was just a mug. It barely deserved the thanks it got.

It definitely didn't deserve whatever this was.

He knew he had fucked up, crossing a line and kissing you in front of all your friends on Christmas Eve. But when the opportunity presented itself, he couldn't stop himself. He should have held back at least, keeping the kiss friendly instead of the heated makeout it had quickly become. Because even if he had liked you for years, had been trying to find every excuse to be around you in hopes you'd pick up on the clues and realize how he felt, he shouldn't have thrown caution to the wind like that. He was more level-headed than this.

He thought you had been leaning in, not shifting away as you shared a moment together on the back porch. He must have misread that moment and let it cloud his judgment when he found himself standing under the mistletoe with you only minutes later.

The look of pure panic on your face after that mistletoe kiss told him all he needed to know. He had fucked up.

"For the CD," you clarified, the uncertainty evident on Quinn's face.

Taking a full step back to separate yourself from him, you bent down to retrieve the CD that you had stuffed back inside the backpack. Pulling the residual red wrapping paper off the case, still stuck together from one of the 300 pieces of tape Quinn had used when wrapping it, you held up the CD so Quinn could see.

"I hope it's okay that I opened it," you whispered, fingers tracing the edge of the case as you nervously brought your eyes up to meet Quinn's. A crimson blush was spreading across his neck, leaving his cheeks tinted pink. "Gemma asked me to grab your bag, but the gift tag was sticking out. I saw my name on it, and yeah…"

When Quinn didn't say anything right away, you started to get nervous. Why wasn't he saying anything? And why didn't he give you this gift in the first place?

Unless—you flipped the CD case over, scanning the tracklist again.

They were pretty generic songs. You had tied meaning to all of them, but this could have been for anyone. Maybe this was Quinn's routine, his shtick when it came to flirting with girls, and you had bought into it.

He wasn't serious about this. Which is why he hadn't given you the gift. And why he apologized after he kissed you.

"Unless it wasn't for me, and this is a really unfortunate mixup of opening a gift you got for someone else with the same name," you tried to joke.

Quinn didn't smile. His face remained stoic as if he were still processing what was happening. That made your stomach turn.

"Oh my God," you squeaked out, horrified. "I've just kissed you when this was meant for someone else."

Feeling your entire body flush with embarrassment, you shoved the CD back into Quinn's backpack before thrusting it into his chest. You needed to get away immediately.

Instead, Quinn's hands came out to grab your wrists, holding you in place as you tried to turn away.

"There's no one else," he rushed out. "It's just you. I—I mean, the CD was for you."

His words were a sudden weight off your shoulders. With his right hand, he took the backpack from your grip, gently placing it on the ground by his feet, all while using his other hand to hold you firmly in place.

"Then why did you give me the mug?" you asked. "Not that I didn't like it—"

"I was worried it was too sentimental and I had misread this entire thing," he admitted. It felt like a relief to finally get those words out in the open. "I panicked a bit after I kissed you on Christmas Eve. I thought I had overstepped, so I apologized, but you just iced me out. I didn't want to risk making you feel more uncomfortable than I already had."

He hadn't apologized because he regretted the kiss; he thought you regretted it. And avoiding him at all costs for the rest of the trip didn't help change his mind. You thought you were doing the right thing at the time, and now all you felt was guilt.

"I tried to find you a replacement gift, and that was the best I could do with every shop in the village closed," he chuckled softly. "Petey actually had to call in a favor to get the gift shop to open up for me to even get it."

That explained where they really were on Christmas morning.

Piper's excuse was only half a lie, which made sense as to why she was almost able to pull it off. They had gone to the gift shop, and it evidently was a two-person activity, as Quinn needed Elias to bribe an employee to open up early for them on the holiday. And then, he continued to cover for Quinn, saying they were at the outdoor rink when Brock called them out.

It was an elaborate web of excuses and half-truths, all spun together by Quinn to try and fix things. All to make sure you had something to open under the Christmas tree that you would love.

And he did it all without wanting you to find out how above and beyond he had gone. That almost made you love him the mug even more.

"I did love it, I promise. This just…"

You trailed off, unsure how exactly to put this all into words.

Or what this even was.

You had never experienced such grand gestures before. You didn't know if, before this moment, you had ever felt worthy of such actions. All of it made your head spin, and that was before you even dared to allow your mind to wander to how much thought Quinn had put into making your original gift.

The collection of songs. Asking Piper for help putting it together. The personal notes written with each track.

Each item on its own was swoon-worthy.

The sum of it all together was almost too much to try and process.

"This means more," you finished, your voice barely a whisper.

Quinn smiled. A genuine smile that reached his usually cloudy grey eyes. It made your insides feel like they were burning up to be the sole focus of his attention—the one who was making him beam like that. Melting under his watchful gaze, you were oblivious to the cold weather you were far underdressed for.

This time, Quinn leaned down to close the distance, kissing you again.

This kiss felt different to your moment under the mistletoe. Less hesitant, less rushed. This felt confident and intentional.

You wound your arms around his neck as his hands came to rest on your sides. His hands rubbed up and down along your rib cage to try and keep you warm. You leaned up onto the balls of your feet to curl as close as possible into his chest.

As he pulled away, you chased his lips to capture them in a final, quick kiss. Resting back flat on your feet, Quinn felt you shiver.

"You should probably get inside before you catch a cold," he warned, but let you wrap your arms around his waist anyways.

You fit perfectly into his arms, his chin resting atop your head as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck. You let your eyes close, trying to memorize the subtle scent of his cologne and the way his scruffy facial hair tickled against your skin.

"Probably," you agreed, but neither of you moved.

That first shiver might have been from the kiss, but the ones that followed were definitely from being underdressed for the weather. You probably should have stopped to grab a coat, or at least put on a sweater, before trudging out into the snow for your grandiose declaration of love.

"I do have to go," he sighed eventually. "Brock's giving me the time's up signal."

"Right," you exhaled. You had forgotten about the audience you both had watching you.

Pulling your head back to glance over your shoulder, a smug-looking Brock and Gemma were still watching from the front porch. When Gemma caught your eye, she gave you an exaggerated wink. Quinn must have also seen it because you felt his chest rumble with a soft chuckle.

"I'll see you back in Van?" Quinn asked, pulling your attention back to him.

You nodded right away, but Quinn continued to chew on his bottom lip. His eyes searched your face once again. He needed more of a confirmation than just a nod. He needed to know you were all in, too.

"Can I take you out when you're back?" he asked again. "On a proper date?"

You tried to keep your face stoic, but your lips threatened to betray you as they twitched into a smile. "I think it would be rude to kiss me like that and then not take me out on a date."

He pulled you into his chest for a final hug, his broad frame completely enveloping you. You felt his chest rumble with laughter against your own. You knew him well enough to know he was probably rolling his eyes above your head, too.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Such a small action, but it had your stomach erupting with butterflies and your knees feeling weak. You tightened your grip around Quinn, sinking into the soft fabric of his hoodie.

No one had ever elicited quite this response from you before.

Quinn was something else entirely.

"Well, I'd hate to be rude," he whispered into your hair, lips still pressed against your skin. "So, it's a date."

- END -