OH, THEY’RE WEIRD AND WONDERFUL — luke hughes x reader
summary: you hate Luke Hughes. Luke Hughes hates you. Isn’t that weird?…maybe even a bit wonderful.
notes: heavily based on the scene from 27 dresses because I’m a sucker for romcoms. (Also smutty part 2 will be coming)
warnings: fem!reader, reader is Josh Norris' sister but it’s not a major point, other than that none! Just pure somewhat enemies to somewhat lovers, swearing, drinking (underage drinking implied), use of nickname-pretty girl, nearly a car crash (but not really just hydroplaning).
It’s my first time writing in a while and after a very rough slump, so please be kind <3
"Is this a joke?"
With your mouth parted and eyebrows furrowed, you stared in dismay at your ride home. You'd spent the long weekend working at a sports camp as a coach, a job that didn't pay you nearly enough money compared to the Trojan effort you had to employ to wrangle the little energetic kids over the span of the three days.
You'd, very unfortunately, been stuck getting the bus there, however, your brother had promised that he would pick you up, despite it being an hour thirty to two hour drive there and back.
Your brother claimed that because he was away for most of the year to play hockey, drives like such were nothing if it meant he got to catch up with you.
What you hadn't expected was Luke Hughes with his car window rolled down, a hat firmly over his curls and a half smirk tugging at his lips.
"Do you honestly think I'd drive two hours in traffic for a joke?" Luke answered, head tilting as he gestured for you to get in. "Get in."
"Where's Josh?" You groaned, feet planted into the pavement as you scanned the car for your brother, hoping this was just a sick joke.
"Norris? Probably out on our boat," he shrugged, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He leaned out the window, head tilted up towards the darkening sky. "You should probably get in before it starts to rain."
"Oh, you have got to be shitting me," you huffed in exasperation, making your way around to the passenger side. You swung open the door, hopping into the plush leather material of his car, your backpack tucked down beneath your feet.
"Miss me that much?" Luke teased, being instantly met with a frustrated eye roll. Then came a sudden thunderous scatter of rain that pinged off the car like coins totting up in a casino game. "See, told ya...great timing."
"Just drive, Hughes."
If you were stuck in a room with a buzzing fly, a blaring siren, a static TV, the default Apple alarm sound ringing and Luke Hughes with an option to stop only one of the noises, you would without a doubt instantly choose to silence Luke.
You'd first met the youngest Hughes brother four summers ago. You'd been invited along with your brother and your family to a 'Hughes summer barbecue party', where any friend of the family had been invited to their lake house.
You had been nervous and stuck close to your parents' side before your brother dragged you over to the fire pit to introduce you to Quinn's younger brother, who would also be starting UMich with you in a few years. You'd heard stories of the youngest Hughes, even seen pictures that had made your heart swoop.
Yet, upon introducing yourself, he'd simply offered you an uninterested and brief "Luke" before turning away with a small scoff, and ignored you for the rest of the evening, only sparing you a sparse few glares. You'd burned with a crippling awkwardness, and now every time you saw him, that humiliated flame was fanned.
When you'd been around him since that day, he'd ignored you, pretended you hadn't existed until he had some snarky, annoying remark or tease to throw your way.
"Aren't you going to ask why I'm collecting you?' Luke hummed, glancing over at you as he drove, the rain now shattering down against the windshield in sheets of water. The roads were barren of cars, leaving just you and Luke on the darkening road.
"Nope,"
"C'mon, you wanna know, don't you?"
"Not really,"
"You do,"
"Oh my God, if I say yes, will you stop?" You huffed, eyes narrowed, as a knowing smile spread across Luke's cheeks.
"Depends," he shrugged, fingers tapping on the wheel, "stop talking? No...stop asking that one question? Maybe."
"Fine, say it then!"
There was a pause as you turned your head expectedly, waiting for Luke to provide any sense or season.
"Well...?" You spoke again, eyebrows furrowed as he scowled.
"...well, now I don't want to tell you," he whined, eyes locked ahead as the rain outside got heavier, the faint and blurred lights of the small town outside the only source of light.
"Are you being serious right now, Hughes?!" Frustration bubbled through your bloodstream like a fiery broth ready to sizzle over the side of a pan.
"Yes, I am!" He retorted, nose scrunching upwards as he dared to spare a glance at you. "You're being scary!"
"Scary?! Wow, Hughes," you huffed, sinking into your seat, the heavy rain now washing against the car windshield in a continuous tidal wave. "Just answer the question, it's not that hard!"
"Fine, his car had a flat and I was going to be passing by and he practically begged me to pick you up because god forbid you get a bus," Luke snapped, his own frustration unwinding from its tight coil. "You're spoiled, that's the real answer."
"Spoiled?!"
"What? Hard to hear?" Luke drawled in false niceties, a sardonic smile on his lips
"You are the most irritating person I've ever met on my entire life," you shot back, eyes narrowed into slits as you locked your gaze on him.
"Yeah? Well, you're no walk in the park either."
"Do you get off on being pathetic, or is it just a genetic mutation?"
"Genetic mutation? Well, aren't you smart!"
"Choke!"
"You first!"
"Animal!"
"How original," Luke scoffed as he rolled his head towards you.
"No!" You exclaimed, as your wide eyes remained locked on something in the middle of the road. "Luke! Animal!"
"Fuck!" Luke's eyes darted back to the road, and with gritted teeth, he immediately swerved, causing you to grip the car door and the edge of your seat. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Beneath you, the car jerked and careened over the watery road with Luke desperately trying to keep control.
"Are we hydroplaning?! Oh my god, we're hydroplaning!" Your panicked voice loudly filled the car, clutching onto the interior with all your might as the car slid across the road. "Luke!"
"I know! I'm trying!" Luke blurted out, grappling to regain control of the car as it started to turn and wobble.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you cried out, eyes plastered open in terror as your lip trembled as the vehicle slid and jolted across the road, veering uncontrollably.
"Hold onto something," Luke quickly yelled, brows furrowed impossibly deep as his whitened knuckles tried to steer, only causing the car to turn completely, sending the vehicle reversing down a hill. "Shit!"
"Oh my god, we're going to die! We're going to die!" You wailed out before a soft scream escaped your lips as the car suddenly jolted to a stop, sending your body jerking forward.
Silence, like the rain outside, fell heavily over the interior of the car. The windscreen wipers moved tauntingly side to side, washing away the rain to reveal the slippery slope the car had slid down. Your chest heaved, eyes blinking rapidly as they darted towards Luke in the driver's seat, before your gaze travelled down to his outstretched arm, placed precariously in front of you.
Your heart jumped in your throat before you swallowed it down like a heavy lump, gently shoving his arm away.
The car engine purred and growled as Luke emitted a few quiet curses, stomping on the accelerator until he inevitably slumped back into his seat.
"Why aren't you going?!" You spoke fast, heart yet to cease its incessant pounding against your chest, panic crawling up your throat like an unwanted entity.
Luke turned to you slowly, and you swore you saw his right eye twitch at your words. You shrunk back into your seat at his withering glare, stomach flipping as he cocked a brow.
"I'm going to choose not to answer that," he calmly spoke, yet you could see the strings of his resolve plucking down to the final thread. You watched as he reached into the centre console for his phone.
You fumbled for your own phone in your pocket, fingers shaking from adrenaline as the rain slammed against the car from all sides. You tapped your password in before your stomach instantly tumbled into the depths.
"Got any signal?" Luke asked, his eyebrows knitted together, the hazel of his eyes sparking with worry.
"None," you admitted, running a hand over the tresses of your hair. Your lip furled ever so slightly as Luke switched off the engine. "Oh we're so fucked!"
"The right tire is flat, we've no signal, so we can't call for help." Luke lifted his own hands, lifting to scrunch the curled tendrils at the crown of his head. "So yeah...if we're staying the obvious, we're fucked."
"Jeez, you know just what to say," you retorted, unbuckling your seatbelt to turn towards Luke.
"Just trying to lighten the mood, pretty girl."
"Call me that again and I swear to god-"
Luke huffed out a laugh, hands drumming against his thighs as he looked out at the pouring rain.
You slipped your hands over your face, forcing yourself to take deep, lingering breaths and trying not to be crushed by the realisation that you were struck. In a car. With Luke. In the middle of nowhere. With no signal. WITH LUKE!
"Okay, two choices here," Luke whistled, as you peeked out from between your fingers. "One: we make a run for that town back there and hope that some place is still open, and two: we wait here and hope that someone around here stops out of the goodness of their heart to help."
"So in simpler terms, we either get drenched running or we're stuck in this car all night?"
"Yup," Luke clicked his tongue, "pretty much."
You found yourself blinking, every swear word under the sun breaching the tip of your tongue as you tried to swallow your utter frustration.
The sharp crack of a whip of lightning strung itself across the sky, coupled hand in hand with a ground-shaking crash of thunder, causing you to instinctively latch onto the nearest object while Luke's head jerked to look outside. The sudden startle had sent your heart to your throat, and as he slowly turned back to face you, his face pale, you realised that you were firmly gripping the sleeve of his blue UMich hoodie.
"Okay, okay," Luke exhaled, as you quickly let go of his arm, eyes trying to mask the regret of your movements. "Time to pick...live out a horror film or go out in the rain."
"Fine," you finally huffed, "let's just go, I'd rather die from hypothermia than be stuck here forever with you."
"Thought you might say that," Luke hummed, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching into the backseat. "Here," he tossed a balled-up jacket at you. "You'll need this."
You felt a scoff bubble in your throat but accepted the jacket nonetheless, shrugging it on and letting the warmth engulf you. From the corner of your sight, you noticed the way Luke watched you struggle to untangle the long sleeves before he huffed and carefully yanked the sleeve free.
"There," He spoke rather matter-of-factly as he adjusted the hood over your head. At the sight of the faint smile flickering on his lips, you shifted away from his touch.
"Can we go now?" You found yourself snapping, compressing the rising guilt in your chest as Luke's smile dropped entirely.
"Only waiting for you," He answered tightly, pulling up his own hood and turning off the car engine. You gave a small, prompt nod before you reached for the door and pushed it open.
In an instant, the rain soaked through the jacket as Luke followed suit, hopping out of the car.
"COME ON!" He called out, voice barely audible over the pelting water. You squinted as you moved, he was barely visible despite being mere meters ahead, but you could see him jogging towards the hill his car had slid down.
You ran after him, mud splashing around your ankles. Either Luke had pulled a muscle, or he was battling with the mud on the hill, but no matter the cause, he had slowed until you'd caught up with him, cautiously clambering up the hill.
"There's a few lit places up left," You yelled over the thunder, hair plastering itself to your face as you struggled to blink the rain out of your eyes. Your feet were sliding in the mud, water seeping through to your socks, tingling the tops of your toes.
"Yeah, I thought I saw one or two-WOAH!"
Luke's answer was interrupted as his hand instinctively lashed out in a feeble attempt to grab anything while his feet promptly slid out from under him.
That anything happened to be your arm, as you were dragged downwards, crashing hard on top of Luke. The boy below you let out a groan upon impact as you faceplanted into his neck, a surprised yelp pulling itself from your throat.
You lifted your head, face lingering inches above his as you blinked in shock. Luke looked equally as baffled, his curls flattened and sopping against his forehead. His nose had scrunched up as you planted your hands on his chest, eyes still locked onto yours. The rain pounded against your back, and mud was now splattered across your face and body, but god was it comical.
It started with a sudden snort. The noise escaped you so quickly that you hadn't even had the chance to conceal it, your hand darting up to cover your mouth as you laughed.
It was one of those uncontrollable fits that haunted awkward silences and moments of embarrassment and presented itself as a challenge to overcome. It was the only sound Luke could hear over the rain, as your body wracked with laughter, vibrating through his own chest.
He'd never heard you laugh like this, at least never around him.
And, god, did he enjoy it.
Despite the sheets of harsh rain pelting down on top of him, Luke found his lips twisting into a smile. He found a chuckle rattling itself around his ribcage, his laughter now distinct over the downpour, the two of you completely sprawled on the muddy hill.
You tried to push yourself up, only for your hand to slip, sending you crashing back down on top of Luke, a hysterical cackle leaving your lips as he reached to steady you.
"Are you seriously laughing right now?" Luke choked out, his hands clasping your drenched elbows as a toothy grin fought to remain off of his face.
"I-I'm sorry," You gasped between giggles, your voice wheezy as you blinked away the rain. "It's just that you...your face- I can't....you looked ridiculous!"
Luke's laughter turned into an elongated and dramatic groan as he sank further back into the muddy grass, wholly accepting his fate in the filth.
"I'm literally lying in the mud because of you," He retorted, mindlessly clinging onto you as your entire body shook.
"Wrong," You answered through a titter, voice barely rising above the rainfall. "You flailed and slid like Bambi on ice and pulled me down."
"Fine, whatever! I broke your fall, at least."
You let out another short, disbelieving laugh as you finally pushed yourself into a sitting position, legs bracketing Luke's thighs. You were still looking down at the boy, that glint in your eye sparking in delight.
Silence settled between the two of you as the roar of rain continued to pierce your surroundings. Looking down at the faintly lit-up Luke, lying beneath you, you became acutely aware of your position. A wave of heat washed over you as you scrambled off his lap and to your feet while Luke slowly pushed himself up to lean on his hands, his eyes tracking your every movement.
You offered him your hand, allowing him to clutch onto it as he climbed to his feet, once again towering over you, his hand carding through his soaked hair that dripped into his lashes.
"We should get moving," You cleared your throat, dropping his hand despite his tight grip. You began to walk, ignoring whatever Luke said beneath his breath, the squelching of the mud providing some twisted rhythm that you trudged along to.
"You know," Luke started, his voice carrying over the patter of the rain, "for someone who claims to hate me, that was a lot of laughing back there."
"Shock, hysteria, trauma." A scoff bubbled in your throat, but you kept your back turned away from him, avoiding his piercing gaze. "Pick one and run with it.'
"So none of it was because I'm hilarious and charming?"
"You wanna be funny and charming, Hughes?" You didn't bother to suppress your scoff this time, turning to face the drenched boy. "Pick up the pace and help find a dry place with reception."
"A lot of pressure for one guy," Luke whistled in response, taking a couple of long steps to walk side by side with you. You'd be blind to miss the bright smile across his scrunched-up face.
"Not if you keep up," You chided, sliding ever so slightly, only for Luke to reach out and grab your bicep to steady you. You paused, your eyes darting to his, a faint fluttering sensation moving across your stomach. "...Thank you."
"Anytime."
He didn't say anything else after that...neither did you, and for a frustrating few minutes, you slipped and fumbled for grip, climbing the hill as the distant rolling thunder threatened to shake the ground. You could hear Luke beside you emitting soft whines of displeasure filtering from his lips between heaves of breath. When you finally, and breathlessly, reached the street-lamp-lit road, you felt the urge to fall to your knees and sob in joy.
"There, look," Luke panted, nudging your shoulder with his elbow, "Bar. Bingo! Have you got ID with you?"
You blinked up at him in surprise before glancing towards the dingy-looking bar whose red LED sign routinely blinked the word 'OPEN'.
Now, you just had to hope that the bouncer or bartender wouldn't look too closely to realise that the only ID you possessed was a fake.
☆
The bar was abnormally busy when you had entered. "Only place 'round here hooked up to a generator" – the barman had explained over the bustling and rowdy crowd, giving you and Luke a once-over, eyes lingering on the mud and wet that shrouded you both. "No cell service though, wifi router is down, so cash only."
...and praise be to whatever heavenly body resided above, that Luke Hughes somehow remembered to grab his wallet before leaving the car.
You slammed back a shot of some foul-tasting spirit that Luke had picked and paid for, craving the burning warmth it provided. Your glass clinked back down onto the bartop at the same time Luke's did, a red flush creeping across the tips of his ears.
"Feeling better now?" He asked, coughing into his fist, swivelling to face you.
"Sambuca? That's your go-to?" You retorted, eyebrows raising as he gestured at the bartender for two more.
"Oh, no worries, you're welcome," Luke practically sang, his pride weaving its way into his every word.
You allowed your eyes to roll as you leaned your arms against the sticky bar counter, before you took a deep breath in and scanned the room. The crowds were swaying ever so slightly to the crackling jukebox stored in the corner that echoed some country tune you couldn't quite place. The air was thick, almost hard to breathe, but you'd take it instead of being stuck outside all night. The windows scattered around the bar were fogged up from too many bodies and too much difference in temperature compared to the outside. On a far wall, a group of men stood throwing darts at a crooked board, whilst others merely sipped their drinks and cheered every so often as they watched.
You turned back to Luke, chin tucked into your palm as you finally and properly examined him. Curls were stuck to his forehead, mud was streaked across his cheek and neck, yet with his tilted grin and sparkling eyes, he very annoyingly looked like he'd walked off the cover of some random sports magazine.
"You're enjoying this too much," You spoke pointedly as two more shots were placed in front of you. It wasn't an accusation, per se, more of an observation.
"Maybe not the part where we almost wrecked my car," He answered, shifting on the bar stool. "But the part where you stopped acting like I'm the worst person on earth? Yeah...I'm enjoying it."
Your tongue poked into the flesh of your cheek as you bowed your head with a slight shake, the small niggling shame writhing into your chest. Instead of answering immediately, you picked up the shot glass and tossed back the drink with a slight wince and a following cough.
"You were such a dick...when we met," You spoke slowly, tilting your head to look at Luke. The chatter of the bar almost overrode your words.
"I know..." Luke's reply was instant, causing your eyes to widen in shock. He followed suit, draining his shot glass dry. "I know it's no excuse, but I was seventeen, and I was trying to look cool in front of a bunch of older guys and then all of a sudden a girl comes up to me and I can't speak, and I go red and now these older guys are ragging on me, nudging me and teasing."
"Because of me?" You scrunched your brows together in confusion.
"No, because of how I reacted to you." Luke corrected, halfheartedly flagging the bartender down with more cash for more drinks. "Josh has told me about you, but you were still a pretty girl and the boys saw what you did to me...I didn't know how to deal with that."
A startled laugh burst from your lips, your eyes narrowed in disbelief.
"So your one solution was to be a dick?!"
"Look, I didn't say it was a smart solution," Luke tutted, "it was a classic teenage boy move, and I get why you hate me, I just don't want you to think I still hate you."
You blinked once. Then twice. And then, for good measure, a third time, completely bewildered as Luke thanked the bartender, who placed another round of shots down. Any words you had became stuck between your tongue and your throat. You hadn't expected him to say that, not when he had conveyed he'd hated you for so long. You could handle indifference, but Luke had actively ignored you, only willing to glare and that had stung harder than you would ever admit.
"That's a...it's a weird thing to say." You cursed yourself for stumbling over your words, but it made Luke chuckle, and suddenly you weren't as humbled.
"We just almost wrecked, we're covered in mud in some random bar, we're doing shots," he spoke between breaths. "I don't think any other time is better to say it."
You slowly hummed, trying to remain steady, yet he'd sent your brain into some frazzled carnage. You looked down at the bar top at your clasped hands before glancing at the boy, whose cheeks were flushed and curls now unsticking rapidly.
"I don't think I hate you," you began, your finger circling the rim of the shot glass.
"Very reassuring,"
"No, listen," you cut Luke off, "it was embarrassing, you humiliated me at the barbecue. I was nervous, practically hiding behind my mom and the one person I was introduced to decided that he wanted to scoff and that he hated me-didn't hate me? I don't know."
You paused, lifting your bowed head to meet Luke's gaze, and you felt a wave of surprise cross your body as shame wrote itself across his face.
"I was embarrassed..." you sucked in a deep breath, "and I decided I didn't want to care about you or what you thought, so hating you was easier."
Luke picked up his shot and feebly raised it.
"To maybe hating and no more embarrassment?"
"You're an idiot," you retorted, but you didn't mean it. Not this time. You clinked your small glass against his, and the two of you swallowed the burning liquid.
Luke gagged, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he shook his head.
"Yep-" he interrupted himself by coughing into his fist, exhaling before continuing. "Sambuca isn't fun."
"Nope," you choked, grabbing a napkin to wipe your mouth. "You're banned from picking the drinks... let me choose the next round?"
"Deal," Luke gingerly held out his hand towards you, allowing yours to slip into the hold. Your hands shook, but instead of letting go, his thumb lightly brushed over your knuckles, and for a second, just a split second, you forgot your mud-ridden self, soggy socks and the built-up resentment for the boy beside you.
You forgot the fact that you were exhausted and in the middle of nowhere, your only thought being the fact that a swarm of butterflies had somehow infiltrated your stomach and taunted and teased you by floating around all happy.
You pulled your hand back, breaking eye contact and clearing your throat as you and Luke turned forward, now just sitting side by side as the awkwardness festered. You quickly ordered another round of drinks as Luke slid another small wad of cash towards the bartender. You watched as he precisely poured another two shots of a different drink, this time.
Behind you, the jukebox sound was turned up as a few familiar beats echoed across the janky bar through crackling speakers. The bartender placed the two drinks in front of you, and you were quick to drink every drop, not daring to glance at Luke, who you knew was doing the exact same. You found your lips quirking upwards when the song finally became recognisable, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through your veins.
"I love this song," you suddenly supplied, rolling your head to look at the boy beside you once more.
"It's a great song, Dad used to play it on the way to practice," Luke added, his fingers tapping against the bar top to the beat. Withoud a word of warning, he sat up straighter. "Hey, kids, shake it loose a lemon, spotlights hitting somethin' gotta make a feather."
"Those are not the words!" You laughed, hand clapping over your mouth to suppress the giggles.
"Sorry! I was like- what? Eleven last time I listened to this!" Luke raised his hands in defeat. "What are the words?"
Your head shook as you listened before your mouth opened.
"You're gonna hear electric music," you sang, voice cracking and shoulders bopping. "...so the walrus sounds."
"Walrus sounds?" Luke choked out, his toothy grin on display as his brows shot up.
"Something like that!" You grinned, waving your hands. Your heart thrummed happily at the sight of Luke practically giggling, his face screwed up in a laugh. "I'm half convinced this song might just be a lot of sounds."
"Mhm....say Penny's no longer in a ce-ment jet," Luke continued to sing out of tune, his voice carrying over the talk at the bar.
"Definitely butchering the lyrics,"
Luke waved off the criticism as he continued.
"-ooh, but you're so laced down,"
"Buh-buh-buh- Bennie and the Jets," you joined in, hands landing on Luke's shoulder, shaking him lightly as he sang.
"Ohhh they're weird and they're wonderful," Luke harmonised, so off-key that if you were anywhere near sober, you'd be clutching your ears begging him to stop, but now it only made you cackle. "Oh, baby, she's a revocaine."
"She's got electric boobs-"
"Boobs?!" Luke spluttered out as you threw your head back to sing.
"-and mohair shoes, you know I read it in a magazineeeee!"
Luke and you were now dancing in your seats, oblivious to the eyes following your moves and growing voices. You presumed you looked like a spectacle, both still soaked, mud-covered, and probably looking a bit too deranged.
"Buh-buh-buh Bennie and the Jets,"
The haze of alcohol was beginning to fully cloud any sense of, well...sense. Luke banged his hand on the bar top along to the beat, his pinkened cheeks stretched with a smile as you bopped energetically on your stool. You let out a sharp laugh as Luke started drumming with two straws, the music rising.
You couldn't quite place the moment you were dragged up onto the bar counter with Luke beside you, but there you were, hair loose and scraggly, mouth open spewing the lyrics to Bennie and the Jets whilst the busy crowd below seemed to join your jovial efforts, whistling and cheering you and Luke on.
"She's got electric boots, a mohair suit, you know, I read it in a magazineeeee!"
You haphazardly flung your arms out, causing your feet to stumble on the slick wood beneath you. Luke caught you with a firm arm around your waist to keep you steady, his other arm up in the air in celebration. You couldn't help the burst of laughter that bubbled through you as the bar erupted into hollers and hoots, the song's chorus blasting.
"This is fun!" You yelled over the loudness, wobbling precariously as Luke spun you.
"That's kind of the point," He laughed, grinning so widely, a smile you'd only ever seen on the faces of children left loose in the candy store.
The crackling speakers wailed out the final chorus as you and Luke both belted, both the right words and the wrong ones, no care in the world as the boy beside you strummed his imaginary guitar, his hair shaking, while you dramatically played your fake piano. The few darts players from before whistled, others watched in amusement, but one thing that stuck out the most was the fact that you didn't care. You didn't care in the slightest, despite that this scenario was nightmare material to you just over five hours ago.
Luke grabbed your hand, pulling you in for another ridiculous, tilted spin, which would have sent you toppling if you hadn't grabbed on to his shoulders for balance. Your eyes darted upward, breath faltering as you realised just how close your face was to Luke's as he ducked to avoid hitting the ceiling. You could feel his breath against your lips, the tips of his curls brushing your forehead and the feeling of his fingers on your skin.
"Quit falling for me," he quietly drawled, his hands falling to your waist to ground you, the mirth in his eyes dancing beneath the dim bar lights. "People will start talking."
"Look around, Hughes," You murmured, heart jumping in your throat, rushes of heat washing over your face. You watched as his eyes scanned the crowd as they sang and cheered, drunken joy galore. "I think they might already be talking."
"Maybe we should give them something better to talk about?"
"Maybe we should.."
"Are you sure?" Luke's lips twitched into a smile, his hand slowly lifting to cup your cheek.
"Oh, just do it," You huffed, lip between your teeth as you tried to suppress your growing grin.
Luke needed no further prompting, both hands cradling your cheeks as his lips collided with yours. It wasn't a peck or swift kiss, no, Luke's kiss was all-consuming, drawing every inch of your body into his, sending every thought into a tizzy, every feeling into a supernova of something you couldn't quite fathom.
Your hands on his shoulders drifted to the base of his neck, your fingers finding purchase in the sodden curls, tugging ever so slightly. One of his hands fell to your waist, holding you closer as his other remained planted on your cheek, thumb slowly caressing your cheekbone. You were trembling in his hold, his plush lips so warm and welcoming as he dove further into the kiss.
He was treating you like an addictive substance, hard to escape, the need only curbed by devouring the taste of your lips.
You'd completely forgotten about the rowdy bar, the watching and whistling patrons, all of it basically non-existent as you lost yourself in the sensation of Luke's hold, his lips, his feverish movements, just him.
And the most twisted and fucked up thing about it was that Luke kissed like a man starved, like a man who'd waited years to kiss you.
You allowed yourself to selfishly indulge in the embrace for a few seconds before you tentatively pulled away, your nose brushing his as your chest heaved and fell in utter adrenaline that fueled your every move. Your lips were tingling without his touch, begging to be reunited with the satiny feel of his.
Luke's eyes were soft, his pupils blown. One of his fingers trailed down the side of your face, his eyes heavy, breath caught in his throat as his eyes followed the movement. You moved into the touch, welcoming the warmth as he admired every bump, blemish and curve. He was treating you softly, kindly and at a push, lovingly.
And you hated how warm it made you feel.
"Well..." Luke began, his quiet voice breathless, "Now they definitely have something to talk about."
Another laugh broke free from your swollen lips, forehead moving to rest against his. You noticed the way Luke's eyes fluttered shut, his grip on you unwavering.
"I can't believe that just...that we just," You were honestly speechless, softened eyes wide and unmoving from Luke.
"Kissed?" Luke offered with a teasing smirk, his nose knocking off of yours playfully.
"Shut up!"
"You're the one who told me to do it!"
You wanted to speak up and argue his words, but he was right, undeniably and irritatingly so.
"OI, ENOUGH! GET DOWN FROM THERE," You and Luke broke apart upon feeling something lightly whip across your legs. Beneath you, the bartender waved a white tea towel, his eyebrows furrowed with eyes full of feigned anger. "I don't want to explain to my boss why two people broke their backs falling off the counter."
You and Luke stammered your apologies before Luke jumped down, lips pulled downward to hide a smile.
You crouched down, and his hands gently grabbed at your waist, lifting you down carefully, no– delicately, until your feet were flat on the ground once more. He kept you close to him, his head bowed to examine your flustered state, that impish grin of his steady.
"Think we're getting cut off?" You asked, nodding your head towards the bar, where the bartender had now begun to wipe down the surface.
"Probably," Luke shrugged, not even bothering to glance at the sight, solely focused on you. "Went out with style though."
You lightly shoved at his chest, but refused to push him away, his closeness no longer a bother. Instead, you relished the warmth radiating from his body and the comfort it brought.
"So what happens now?" Luke mused, his fingers slowly brushing stray strands of hair out of your face.
"I don't know...But I want to do- whatever that was, again," Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, eyes half-lidded as you placed a hand on the collar of Luke's hoodie, gripping onto the material and pulling to lower his height.
"Good..." He answered, his words low, almost a growl, as he ducked his head. "Because I don't want this to end just yet."
Without another word, you stood on your toes and pressed your lips to his, allowing your entire self to be consumed once more.
a/n: Part two including the aftermath maybe to come 👀
warnings! childhood friends to lovers trope, slowest of slow burns, descriptions of injury, slight angst with reader and Luke both avoiding their feelings lol, mentions of partying, drinking, and hint of drug use and vapes.
word count: 27.3! (oops!!)
summary: You and Luke were meant to be live long friends with being raised together since you were both in diapers. You experience every part of life with him, whether it be hockey or school. When the two of you enter your late teen years, you start to realize that you no longer saw each other as just friends but are too scared to address it.
a/n: oh my goodness, here she is!! I spent a while working on this one and I'm so sorry for getting away with the word count. I hope you enjoy it!
There were two things that Luke Hughes knew very well in life: hockey, with being given a mini stick practically at birth by his brothers and well, you.
Luke knew Quinn and Jack inside and out. As his older brothers, they were like an extension of him. But at the same time, he knew you at the same level as his brothers. You were also an extension of him and he knew you like the back of his hand.
You had been in Luke's life since basically the very beginning. He couldn't remember a point in his life where you weren't there or more accurately, when he didn't know who you were. Given the close nature of both of your parents, they were beyond thrilled when discovering that the third Hughes and you were going to be born just a week apart.
Ellen and your mother, Mandy, were glued to the hip the second Luke and you were born. You entering the world just six days after he did, which he never seemed to let go of the fact that he was older than you.
It worked out beautifully for the Mothers, as you and Luke had grown to call them. If Ellen and Mandy were not in the same room with both baby you and baby Luke, then it was likely that they were doing "baby-share"; which was essentially taking shifts to watch over the babies.
You and Luke were raised together. You two would be given your bottles at the same times, be put down for your naps at the same time and even sharing a bed together. You and Luke shared toys, to the point where even the Mothers couldn't remember who bought what.
The Mothers loved to coordinate your outfits, essentially treating the two of you like twins that they had together. It was fun for them to dress you and Luke in the same blue onesies or have the world's smallest bow in your hair be the same colour to his little t-shirt. It was absolutely adorable.
Luckily, the two of you were easygoing babies. Neither of you cried much nor made a fuss, more typically being found babbling or playing with your matching Jellycats. Luke having a lamb while you had a bear stuffed animal. Mandy had told her husband, Steven, as well as Ellen and Jim, that it was likely due to you and Luke being able to keep each other company. That the two of you are simply happy when the other is around.
The transition from infants to toddlers was smooth(ish). You and Luke were still the same happy children, constantly giggling with each other and in your own world of Luke and Y/N. You were quick to start forming words and short sentences while Luke was standing and walking.
In the Hughes household, it was louder with a four-year-old Jack yelling at the top of his lungs while chasing after Quinn. Their footsteps cladding against the hardwood while Luke's little head of blonde curls waddled around the legs of the Mothers, and you were tugging at Jim's pant leg and asking for a snack.
"Quinn! Give it back!" Jack's high pitched voice screamed, "Mommy said it's my turn with the red mini stick!"
"Come and get it then!" Quinn taunted his brother, his hand gripping onto the plastic hockey stick.
Jack stomped his foot and huffed, "Mommy!" He cried out at the top of his lungs, which caused Ellen to groan in reaction,
"What is it, Jack?" She called out to her middle son, who was grumbling as he entered the kitchen.
He climbed onto the taller seats by the kitchen counter next to Jim and Steven, who were in midst of talking about hockey.
"Quinny took my mini stick and he's be big stupid head," Jack said to his mom, slouching further into his chair, "Mommy, tell him to go time out, s’not fair."
Ellen opened her mouth to scold Jack for his rude language when a small voice approached her, "Mama!"
Little Luke hugged onto her leg, making her heart melt. She scooped up the youngest Hughes in her arms and Luke was quick to cuddle into his mom. Ellen glanced over at her husband, silently nudging him to handle Jack's situation. However, Jim seemed to be distracted at whatever words you were saying to him and your dad.
"How about, you and Quinny play mini sticks against me and your dad?" Steven suggested to the boy, who's eyes lit up immediately.
"Really?" Jack exclaimed, practically bouncing in his seat, "Dad, we're going to win so hard versus you and Stevey!"
Mandy gave the dads a thankful smile before taking little you out of Jim's arms, "You boys have fun now!"
"Do you wanna play, Mandy?" Jack questioned, hopping out of his seat and coming to stand next to Mandy. She laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair,
“Oh, honey. I think it’ll be better if you play with your dad and Steve.”
Jack shrugged, not too bothered nor didn’t seem to dwell too much, he was far more interested in toddler in Mandy’s arm. Your small hand reaching out towards him, which Jack knew meant that you wanted to grab his hand.
Your small hand wrapped around his finger, "Jacky!"
"I wish you could play mini sticks too, Bear... But you're too little," He explained to you, using the nickname that you were given from having a teddy bear that you loved dearly, "One day though! When you and Lukey are bigger, then you can play! I promise!"
With that Jack ran towards Quinn's room to get him to play mini sticks against the Dads. Leaving Ellen and Mandy in the kitchen with their toddlers in their arms.
"Is Lukey!" You pointed towards him while looking at your mom, "Lukey!"
"Bear!" He giggled, his small hand waving at you and you were more than happy to wave back at your friend.
₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
Eventually, you and Luke got a strong hang of walking with your little legs, although trips and falls occurred pretty often. The second you and Luke were running, best believe that Steven and Jim were quick to put the two of you in skates and onto the ice. Luke was a natural skater, while your dad held your hand and helped you go from waddling on the ice to gliding around.
“Daddy, look!” Luke exclaimed as he followed his brothers around the outdoor rink, “I doin’ it!”
“Look at you, Lukey!” Jim laughed, watching his boys skate around the rink. Quinn and Jack were much more fluid with their movements but Luke was getting the hang of it for a two and a half year old.
Steven and Jim were on either side of you, holding onto your pink mittens as they helped you move around. You were capable of shuffling your feet while holding their hands, but the second they let go, you were on your bum on the ice.
“How’s Bear doing?” Quinn asked as he skated over to you, “You’re doing so good!”
You beamed at the eldest Hughes brother, “I no skate Daddy lets me go.”
Quinn chuckled, “Come on, I’ll help you!”
He took both of your hands from your dad and his before he started to pull you along the ice. Quinn skated backwards, constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t going to run into Jack, Luke, or a snow bank. Giggles left your mouth as you glided across the ice with Quinn.
“Okay, I’m gonna let go of one hand now…” He told you, carefully releasing your left hand, “You can do this, Bear!”
Your eyes widened for a moment before Quinn started to slowly skate, and you stayed on your feet as they waddled to match his movement. He grinned at you while Jack whooped in celebration for you from behind, what you didn’t realize is that Quinn had let go of both of your hands and you were officially skating all my yourself.
“Go Bear!” Jack cheered before skating towards you and hugging you, “You did it!”
Luke joined soon after, his little skates only being able to carry him so fast before his arms embraced you, “We dids it!”
“Yay!” You giggled, hugging your best friend tightly.
₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
The Mothers wanted nothing more than to dress you up in cute pink ruffled dresses with flowers, but there was never a point to when they knew you would be in the backyard chasing Quinn around with Luke. Quinn did his best for his young age to make sure that you and Luke were safe. Reminding you two constantly to watch out for the corner of the table or for ledges, or to slow down. There was constant laughter when the four of you kids were together, along with earfuls of arguing.
The moment Jack and Quinn deemed you and Luke to be big enough, they put hockey sticks into your hands. Luke, by default, was able to maneuver the stick around the foam puck very quickly. You, on the other hand, had a bit more difficulty. Jack was jumping foot to foot, while Luke got the hang of the game while Quinn kneeled near you. He taught you how to play, the same way he taught Jack except now that he was older, he was better at explaining things.
Soon, when the four of you weren't in the basement playing knee hockey, you were outside playing road hockey. During the summer, at the Hughes lake house, the four of you would spend your rainy days playing hockey in the living room. If it wasn't one of the warmer months, then you would be playing hockey on the ice with the Hughes brothers.
A laugh escaped your lips as you chased after the puck with Jack right behind you, Quinn was skating backwards while facing you as he protected the net.
“Me! Me!” Luke shouted with the smack of his stick against the ice echoing slightly. You looked up at him, and you pushed the puck with the blade of your stick towards him before falling forward while doing so.
“Oof!” You huffed, fully on your stomach. Although you wore one of Quinn’s smaller jerseys over your coat, you could still feel the coolness of the ice.
Luke shot the puck towards the net, the sharp ping! being heard before he started cheering, “Did you see that?!” He exclaimed, waving his arms around as he looked at his oldest brother.
“Good job, Lukey!” He grinned, hugging Luke’s smaller body.
“Bear!” Luke shouted, turning away from Quinn to look for your reaction — only to see you slowly getting up from your fall and Jack standing next to you, attempting to help you. He immediately skated over, “Are yous okay?” Luke asked you, before also tripping over his own skate and falling down next to you.
You had also fallen back as he collapsed, which only made you start laughing. Jack was standing with his neck extended backwards as he howled out at the scene,
“That’s a bad celly, Lukey! You can’t fall over after you score!” Jack explained to him between laughs.
Quinn skated over to help you get back to your feet while Luke was successful on getting back up by himself. Quinn’s bigger arms pulled the three of you in an embrace, “Teammates hug after one of them scores, like this.”
“He’s right,” Jack nodded, patting on Luke’s back, “But Lukey and Bear aren’t our teammates.” He told Quinn, his eyebrows furrowed as he pulled away ever so slightly.
Quinn lowly shook his head at his five year old brother, “Lukey is our brother and Bear is like our baby sister, Jack. We’re always gonna be a team, the four of us are always a team. No matter what.”
Jack seemed to accept and understand that answer, he nodded before hugging his brothers and you a little tighter, “We’re the best team!”
That was what it was like growing up with them. You would be constantly dragged into playing some variation of hockey when the sun was still out, then rushing into either your or their home for dinner. Then the four of you curled up on the couch to watch a movie or to play boardgames.
When school started for both you and Luke, you were ecstatic about meeting new friends. In fact, you told Luke, Quinn, and Jack all about how excited you were as the four of you walked to school. Ellen and Mandy were sure to take a photo of the four of you on the sidewalk, each with a comically large backpack on your backs.
Luke was a bit more nervous about it, but Ellen reminded him multiple times that you and him were in the same class. If he was scared then at least he had you. But in classic Hughes nature, Luke's friendly and happy-go-lucky personality and your bubbly one had the two of you making so many friends on your first day. Though, you and Luke would stay stuck to each other's sides the entire time.
"You can't be friends with her!" A boy told Luke after he opted to sit next to you on the classroom carpet, "She's a girl!"
Luke only shrugged, "So what? She's my best friend!'
You grinned at the blonde boy, "You’re my best friend too!"
₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
After school resulted in Ellen taking you to the boys' hockey practices since both of your parents were at work. You and Ellen would sit together in the stands with a blanket draped across your laps as you watched the boys skate. Ellen always bought you a hot chocolate to sip on while you told her about your day at school or about wanting to start reading chapter books.
This routine stayed the same as you grew up. During middle school, you and Ellen would sit and watch the boys practice while sipping on your hot chocolate to keep you warm from the cold air of the arena. Though your conversations slowly changed into new books you wanted to read, news clothes you wanted to buy, or the girls who keep telling Luke that Jack is hot. Which always caused you and Ellen to burst into a fit of giggles.
"I was so confused," You laughed out as you held the warm cup closer to your chest, "Jessica and Megan kept telling me and Luke how hot Jack is and how they wanted to marry him! How weird is that? Plus, what are we supposed to do?"
Ellen chuckled, patting her hand on your thigh in a loving manner, "I suppose you are getting closer to that age where people want to start dating. Jack got his first girlfriend when he was in the seventh grade, remember her?"
You lowly shook your head in disbelief, "Yeah, I kinda remember... I forgot her name but I don't remember them staying together very long."
"Oh, it was definitely a middle school relationship," Ellen said, taking a sip of her hot drink, "I think they dated for 3 days before Jack told her that he wasn't ready for something serious."
Luke would always hear the sound of your laughter, glancing to the stands to see you and his mom snuggled under the 'arena' blanket. It would always bring a small smile to his face, knowing that you were enjoying your time at the arena despite knowing how boring it could be for you.
When practice ended, you and Ellen waited for Luke in the lobby area. You had your hands buried in the front pocket of your hoodie, slightly yawning as you watched Luke's different teammates slowly filter out of the change rooms. You saw his blonde curls emerge from the hallway, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion as he dragged his hockey bag behind him.
"You looked great on the ice tonight, honey," Ellen told her youngest as he gave them a small smile, "Ready to head home?"
"Hi, Mom. Hi, Bear," He sighed, adjusting his grip on his bag, "I'm starving."
Ellen laughed in response to her son before heading towards the automatic glass doors of the arena building. You and Luke followed her towards the car. With Luke placing the hat he initially wore to practice, onto your head.
"Ew Luke," You grimace, pulling the hat off your head, "You sweat in this!"
"It's dry," He said to you with a shrug, watching your hands fumble with his hat, "What did you and Mom talk about during my practice?"
You rolled your eyes at him, "Nothing really, just about how Jessica and Megan are in love with Jack."
"Yeah, no. That's weird." Luke scoffed, while putting his hockey bag into the trunk of the car, "If they spent a day with him, they'll realize how weird Jack is."
You nodded, sliding into the back seat of Ellen's car, "Or they would make bigger heart eyes at him."
"Gross."
Luke sat in the seat next to you in the car, just like always so that you two could talk easily without him needing to crane his neck to see your reactions. Ellen glanced briefly at the rearview mirror to see how you and Luke smiled and laughed with each other, both of you having the same sparkle in your eyes since you were just kids.
The Mothers along with their husbands had a secret bet on you and Luke, with the Mothers rooting for you two to one day end up together like some sort of cheesy childhood friends to lovers romance movie. Jim put his bets on you and Jack, considering how much the two of you bonded as kids and how he never failed to brighten your mood. Your own dad though, he had his bet on you ending up with someone completely different.
Luke led you into his house after Ellen parked in the garage, she commented how Mandy was already inside likely with dinner for Luke.
You walked into the kitchen to see Jack and Quinn at the dining table, quietly conversing over something related to hockey. Ellen was right, as you saw your mom making multiple plates of dinner.
"Hi Mom!" You greeted her, you stood next to her and watched as he placed the cooked chicken on the different plates, "I didn't think you would be here."
She chuckled, kissing your temple, "I got off of work early sweetheart and decided to help out Ellen by cooking"
"Hey Mandy," Luke said casually, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, "Smells good."
Mandy smiled at the youngest Hughes brother, "You can grab a plate honey, I'm sure you're starving from hockey and because you've been growing so much!"
He was. He seemed to be getting taller and taller every time you saw him, even though it was every day. You had always been similar heights with your best friend, but it was now quickly changing. You saw it with Quinn and Jack, how they both seemed to grow tall overnight.
You and Luke had both grabbed plates for yourselves and for Jack and Quinn as you joined them at the table. It was like any other evening where the four of you would catch up from your day’s activities — whether it be about your boring history lesson, drama in amongst classmates, or typically hockey.
It was like routine now, if not your life. Spending time with the Hughes family. The only times you weren’t with them were on the weekend where they would go out of town for a hockey tournament. If you were lucky, you got to watch their tournaments when they played at home. In which those games were always fun to attend.
When you were younger, you always tagged along to their weekend games. It didn’t matter which Hughes brother was playing, because either way you would still sit in the stands and be their loudest cheerleader. Your parents would attend a game here and there, but often opted out to run their weekend errands instead. You still tried to attend as many games as possible — however with Jack, Quinn, and Luke getting progressively more competitive and involved in the hockey world, it was hard to keep up with the multiple games each week.
“We should take advantage of the long weekend,” Jack told the three of you, as he took another bite of his food, “We should go to the ODR and play hockey like how we used to.”
Luke’s eyes lit up at the proposal, “Heck yeah! It’s been forever since we played with Bear.”
“That sounds fun,” You slowly nodded, but inside, you were unsure considering the high intensity that they played. Quinn seemed to have noticed your hesitance by simply reading your body language, “Or we could chill and keep watching friends.”
“Dude, that’s so boring,” Luke whined, “Plus don’t you want extra practice? You’re tryna get into the big leagues aren’t you?”
Quinn scoffed at his youngest brother, “I’m already committed to UMich, you know that.”
“What if we just do both?” You suggested, still poking at your food, “Just don’t be surprised when you guys realize I’m better than you at hockey.”
“Oh yeah?” Jack chuckled, giving you a smirk, “Bet you’ve been getting extra practice this entire time.”
“Mhm, absolutely and I have Jim Hughes as my personal coach,” You grinned, “He loves me more than any of you.”
Quinn laughed at your comments, “Yeah, we’re well aware that you’re the adults’ favourite.”
“No way, Mandy loves me.” Luke interjected with an insulted expression for extra dramatics, “She complimented my height today.”
You only shook your head in disagreement, “She said you’re a growing boy, Lukey. Two different things.”
“You’re just jealous that your mom loves me.” He stated, placing his hands on his hips.
The teasing and banter went on between you and the Hughes brother on a regular basis. Quinn and Jack really did treat you like the little sister they always wanted. The two were always very supportive of you, always put effort into talking with you despite their hectic schedules, and they were protective of you — just like any other older brothers. You and Quinn were close, considering how you would often go to him for advice or input on different issues. Especially on things that Luke just didn’t seem to care too much for, not yet at least. You would go to Jack when you need encouragement, he was the best person when it came to hyping you up.
You held your friendships with Quinn and Jack very close to your heart, however they would never takeover Luke’s spot. He was your ride-or-die, twin flame, and your soulmate. You were convinced of it. You two knew exactly what the other was thinking, only requiring to take a millisecond of a glance at one another to understand. You and Luke could basically communicate telepathically, like when you didn’t like your ice cream flavour and he offered to switch with you… and you didn’t even say a thing.
You walked with Quinn to the ODR, following Jack and Luke as they were both very energized and eager to play with the four of you. “like the old times!” Jack said, as if you four didn’t play together a few weeks ago. Quinn held the two shovels and made Luke carry the different hockey sticks while Jack lugged the bag of skates and pucks. All you were responsible for was holding the bag of hockey gloves.
The four of you plopped down on the cold wooden benches, thankful that they were covered in snow so at least your pants can stay relatively dry. Jack handed out the skates and you four quickly got laced up, however you taking slightly longer in comparison to the brothers who could tie their skates in their sleep.
Quinn and Jack were first to get onto the ice, each with a shovel to clean up some of the snow. You and Luke were soon to join them, both of you with sticks in hand. Once the ice was cleared of snow, each of you skated around for a few minutes.
You enjoyed how the ice felt as you glided around, you loved hearing the sounds of the skate against the ice. The crisp sound of the blade of your stick and the sounds of pucks moving around with it. The soft thuds of each time the blade contacted the puck and the skates carving thin lines against the ice — it was soothing.
“What are the teams?” Jack asked, looking away from the net where he was aiming his pucks at while Quinn was on net duty.
“I call dibs on Bear!” Luke hollered as he maneuvered the puck around on the ice, before passing it to you. You grinned at you received the puck, stick handling a bit before passing it back to him.
Quinn rolled his eyes at Luke’s answer, “You always do.”
Luke shrugged, not bothering to look over at Quinn, “Don’t act surprised. She’s my best friend.”
“Okay, so Jack and Quinn versus me and Lukey,” You said, skating up to Jack with speed before stopping to snow spray him.
Jack looked at you with his jaw dropped and a dramatic expression of hurt on his face, “How dare you. Now my ankles are gonna be wet.”
You raised your hands in surrender, “Not my issue.”
“You got pretty good at that, Bear,” Luke told you as he skated by as he moved away the pucks that wouldn’t be used in your game.
You smiled, “Thanks, I learned from the best.”
“I didn’t teach you that.” Jack scoffed, passing the pucks he received from Quinn to Luke.
You used your stick to lightly cross check him, barely causing him to move, “Not you, dumbass. Mrs. Ellen Hughes taught me.”
“Alright, alright,” Quinn spoke up, motioning for you, Jack and Luke to come closer, “It’s a two v. two, first to five goals wins, best out of three.”
“Prepared to get absolutely smoked!” Jack exclaimed, pointing the end of his stick to you and Luke.
“Yeah right,” Luke replied, shaking his head, “You’re about to get your ass beat!”
Quinn and Luke played defence and goalie while you and Jack mainly played offence. With Jack being significantly more skilled and better than you, but the boys never played to their full effort on days like this. Luke had intercepted a pass between Quinn to Jack, he immediately looking for you.
You tapped your stick against the ice before receiving the puck. You moved your legs to skate past Jack, doing a quick spin move that you learned from watching Quinn play, which made Jack fall over. A laugh escaped your lips as you quickly glanced backwards to see Jack getting up. Quinn was in front of you, wavering his stick in attempts to steal the puck from you before you shot the puck in the direction of the net.
ping!
“That’s in!” Luke yelled out, immediately making his way to pull you into a hug, “Good shit!”
You grinned, your arms wrapping around him as you laughed. Jack and Quinn had also made their way to hug you,
“I can’t believe you broke my ankles!” Jack exclaimed, his eyes widened, “Where did you learn how to do that?”
You shrugged, “I watched Quinn play enough times.”
Quinn beamed, his gloved hand ruffling your hair, “I’m proud. That was impressive.”
“Okay, 1-0 for us!” Luke announced, “We start with the puck now.”
The four of you continued to play, slowly adding a bit more banter and play fighting into the mix. Mainly the boys shoving each other or causing the other to trip. You and Jack were at the corner of the boards, fighting for the puck before you decided to shove him using your shoulder with some force. He moved backwards slightly, giving you the opportunity to take the puck, “Oh it’s so on Bear!” He challenged as you grinned at him.
You skated away with the puck, passing it to Luke, he shot the puck but Quinn blocked it with his stick. Luke retrieved it before giving it back to you. You skated towards the net with Jack right behind you, you didn’t see him poke his stick at an angle in attempts to take the puck. But rather causing you to trip over his hockey stick, you fell forwards as you tried to catch yourself before you crashed into the board.
Pain immediately shot up your left arm as you laid against the ice. Your right hand went to your left shoulder, holding it as heat flooded through the entire area.
“Holy shit!” Luke breathed out, already next to you and kneeling beside your crumbled body, “Are you okay?!”
You let out mix of a strangled sob and a cry of pain as you clutched your shoulder. Tears already streaming down your face from the searing sensation, Luke’s eyes glassed over as Quinn pushed him out of the way,
“You’re okay, Y/N,” Quinn told you, as his eyes scanned over you, “What hurts? Is it your shoulder?”
You nodded as another sob came out, “It hurts so bad, Quinn!”
He let out a shaky breath before sticking his hand out to you, “I know it does, Bear… but I need you to get up, okay? Can you do that?”
You sniffled, “Yeah, I think so.”
“Okay, use my hand if you need.”
You slowly sat up, your hand still holding onto your shoulder. You attempted to get onto your skates with struggles before Luke had his hands on your waist, helping you to your feet, “I got you.” He said in a soft voice.
You gave him a weak smile as you hunched over, cradling your left arm.
Quinn had his phone out, calling Mandy, as Luke guided you off the ice with a gentle hand on your back. Jack stood in his spot, still in shock of what had happened. His eyes were wide and watery, and his heart and stomach felt like the pummelled to the bottom of his gut. His heading replaying the moment you crashed into the boards from him tripping you with his stick.
“Yeah, Luke’s got her now… Okay… Yeah, I can do that… No problem… Okay, see you soon Mandy.” Quinn pocketed his phone, his hand running through his hair before noticing Jack, “I just told Mandy what happened and she’s going to meet us at the emergency room.”
Jack slowly nodded, “I- I just… You know I didn’t mean for that to happen right? I was- She just- I don’t even-”
Quinn frowned, putting an arm around his brother’s shoulder as they skated to the rink door, “Obviously it was an accident, Jack. She knows that. Don’t worry.”
“I feel so bad, Q,” Jack choked out, “I shouldn’t have done that. Did you see her face? She’s never going to forgive me.”
“She will,” Quinn reassured him, giving his bicep a light squeeze, “Bear is going to be fine and she’ll definitely forgive you. She knows you weren’t trying to injure her on purpose.”
Jack hesitated before nodding, “So, we’re going to the hospital?”
“Yeah, Mandy says she wants to know if it’s serious or not,” Quinn said as he popped open the rink door and stepped off the ice.
Luke was kneeling at your feet, taking off your skates and helping you put on your snow boots, “Does it still hurt?”
“Yeah, like a bitch,” You mumbled as he sat in the space next to you to take off his own skates. You rested your head on his shoulder, “I think I broke my shoulder.”
He frowned, moving carefully to make sure you didn’t hurt more while using him as a pillow, “I don’t think you can break a shoulder… You’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, I know… It just hurts a lot.” You sniffled, and occasional tear falling from your eye as you looked up to see Jack and Quinn there.
“I called your mom, she said that she wants you to go to the ER to get it checked out,” Quinn explained to you and he undid his skates, “She’ll meet us there.”
You gave him a small nod, “Okay.”
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to hurt you at all.” Jack apologized, concern was written all over his face with his eyes glassy and his mouth in a frown.
“I know, Jack. It was an accident.” You said to him with a small smile, “Can you buy me ice cream as an apology though?”
He chuckled, “Yeah, I can definitely do that.”
It turned out to be a minor tear in your acromioclavicular ligament, but it didn’t need surgery which you were relieved about. Jack spent the entire time at the hospital apologizing to you profusely. The doctor told you to keep your sling for six to eight weeks and not do anything that required you to use your bad arm. Your mom took you and Luke home while Quinn and Jack went back to their home.
Luke kept you company as much as he could during your recovery. If he wasn’t at hockey, then he was definitely next to you whether it be watching a new episode of Friends together or playing chess. He made sure to carry your books for you at school, always carried your backpack to and from school, and did everything he could to make your life easier.
Kids at school started to assume the two of you were dating yet again, despite you and Luke having to tell them that you were friends just a few months before. But with Luke being next to you at all times and helping you while you were in your sling, it was hard to imagine that you two were just friends.
And Luke wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not a single person, but part of him didn’t mind that your classmates assumed that you were dating. He knew he couldn’t let a soul know that he thought of this, because it felt wrong. You were you, you were Bear, the same Bear he grew up with his entire life. But for once in his life, he saw you slightly differently than just Bear. He saw a glimpse of what everyone else saw when they looked at you. How much he loved to see you smile or how much he wanted to hear you laugh. He didn’t know what changed, but something did.
And for once, Luke finally started to understand what Jack and Quinn meant to all the times Luke had caught them talking about girls together. How Jack wanted to catch the attention of this girl he met in his math class, or how Quinn was planning on asking a girl to the movies. He understood why Jack liked going to the store to buy a girl a bag of candy or a box of chocolate, it felt nice to do something for you. Even if it was as simple as helping you pack up your bag.
Luke didn’t know what his new feelings meant, the weight that they would hold, or what the future could hold. All he knew that he didn’t see you the same way that he used to, and that you absolutely could not know about how he felt. Not after being each other’s best friend since literal birth.
₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
Senior year of high school was the year everyone dreamed about. You get to have homecoming, winter formal, spring fling, senior prom, and graduation. You finally get to see where life may take you, which college you will attend and the program that will take you to your future career. It’s so exciting.
But somewhat sad since Luke didn’t go to your high school anymore. Once he joined USNTDP, he began doing his schooling online starting your junior year. You had to learn how to get used to not seeing him in the hallways every day and not having someone to talk to on your drive to and from school. You’d always imagine that you and Luke would graduate together, but at least you could both attend each other’s graduation. Even if his is virtual.
Regardless, you and Luke were the same as always, despite having a hiccup in your friendship at the start of sophomore year with clashing friend groups. Turns out, it was a lot easier if you both acted like yourselves rather than trying to fit in with groups you didn’t exactly belong to. That was the only time where you and Luke went nearly four months without speaking, but you had sworn to never do that again once rekindled your friendship.
Obviously you and Luke had small arguments on conflicting views on certain situations, you both being too stubborn to admit you were wrong. But again, you both were able to move past those pretty quickly once the Mothers explained to you both how important it is to communicate, instead of shutting down.
Luke had grown up significantly during the course of high school, he’d grown taller… a lot taller, his hair had become darker naturally and lost its blonde he had as a child, and he became more comfortable with himself. He’d always been a bit more awkward growing up, often relying on you to break any kind of tension in conversation with others. But the more Luke got older, the more confident he became. Not in the cocky sense but rather a quiet confidence. You could tell in the way he carried himself, how he talked to others, and how he stopped searching for validation from people.
Despite you two not attending the same school anymore, you often found yourself driving to his house after classes to hang out with him if he was available. With both Quinn and Jack playing in the NHL, the Hughes household was rather vacant. Luke was now constantly busy with hockey, whether it be practices, team lifts, training, games, or tournaments, his schedule was packed. However, he always managed to make time for you. Granted that time was limited so it was only for an hour or two, but regardless you always appreciated it.
“Hey!” You called out, your backpack slung over your shoulder.
“In my room!” You heard him shout back. You made sure to poke your head in the living room to see if Jim or Ellen were home by any chance.
Seeing that it was only Luke who was home, you quickly made your way to his room. You pushed open his door to see him laying in bed with a cap on his head and his laptop propped up on his chest,
“Hey, how was school?” He asked you as he adjusted his position to make more room on the bed. You slid down into the empty space next to him, resting your head on his bicep,
You shrugged, “Boring as usual, everyone is talking about prom and accepting their college offers.”
“Sounds exciting,” Luke chuckled, pressing the key on his MacBook to lower the volume of his lesson, “Have you accepted any college yet?”
“No, I can’t decide between two schools.” You replied, even though you made your decision a few weeks ago when the school you’d been waiting for had offered you admission.
Luke clicked his tongue, resting his cheek against your head, “You’ll figure it out, don’t stress.”
It became normal for the two of you to cuddle like this. You and Luke loved to snuggle with each other as little kids but during the ages of eight to about fifteen, you both deemed it be weird. But after your boyfriend broke up with you at the end of sophomore year, Luke had stayed over that night to watch Disney movies with you and eat ice cream. With Luke trying to comfort you as you cried that night and your hand holding onto his shirt, he pulled you closer to his chest and you ended up cuddling for the rest of the night.
You told yourself it was strictly platonic, because there is no way that you and Luke could catch feelings for each other. You literally knew each other since you were in diapers. It’d be really weird… right?
Since your sophomore boyfriend broke up with you, you had your fair share of flings and talking-stages. Yet none of these guys seemed to last — they didn’t meet your standards. There was always something off about them and you couldn’t quite figure it out. You didn’t let it bother you too much because you had Luke, who was always there for you. Even if it meant he had to go to your school dances.
You currently stood in front of your mirror, smoothing out the front of your prom dress. A small smile adorned your face as you were finally about to experience your senior prom, a benchmark that you’ve been dreaming of since freshman year. The hundreds of photos you have saved on your Pinterest board of different dresses, hairstyles, nails, and make up looks — all led to this moment.
“Hi sweetheart,” Your mom said as she poked her head in, “Luke’s downstairs, but take your time- Oh, honey, you look absolutely gorgeous!”
Mandy walked up behind you, smiling at you in the mirror as she adjusted your necklace, “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks Mom,” You replied while playing with the ends of your hair, “I think I’m ready to head down.”
She nodded, “Ellen and I will need to take so many photos of you two!”
You rolled your eyes in amusement before following her towards the stairs, “She’s ready!”
There were shuffling of feet as you carefully walked down the stairs of your house, cautious not to trip on a step. You made it to the bottom when you looked up from the floor to see Luke standing in front of you in his navy suit with a tie that matched with your dress.
His hair looked perfect, with its curls fluffy and soft. His suit fitted him perfectly, extenuating his broad shoulders and strong arms. Luke’s cheeks were dusted pink, the tips of his ears were flushed as he looked at you.
”You look- uh, good. You look good.” Luke stammered, trying to stay his confident self while complimenting you.
“Just good?” You teased, taking in his flustered state as he cleared his voice. He brushed his hand against your arm,
“You look stunning, Bear,” He told you, this time with better composure and less stutters.
It was your turn to blush as you didn’t expect his words to cause such a reaction in your chest. You felt your heart racing and butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “Really?”
He nodded, “Truly.”
You smiled at him, the edges of your lips reaching your eyes as Luke presented to you your corsage, “This is for you, by the way.”
“It’s so pretty,” You said, your voice light as he adjusted the flower piece on your wrist, “Did Ellen choose this?”
Luke rolled his eyes, “Is it that obvious?”
You laughed, “I kept yours in the fridge, hold on.”
Luke watched as you quickly made your way to the kitchen, his eyes tearing away from the direction you left in once you turned the corner. He looked to see Mandy and Ellen both having their hand over their hearts,
“This is so sweet.” Ellen said to Mandy, who was patting away the tears at the corner of her eyes,
“So adorable,” Mandy agreed, “Our babies are so grown up.”
You returned, holding a similar flower piece in your hands, “Your boutonnière.”
Luke let out a shaky breath as you focused on attaching it to his chest. He was hyper aware of the close proximity, and concerned that you could hear how fast his heart was beating.
“Gorgeous! Now pictures, Mom needs her pictures!” Mandy ushered, using her hands to move you around to stand next to Luke, “Smile!”
Ellen and Mandy must have taken over a thousand photos, constantly changing your positions or changing the angle for better lighting — even eventually telling you two to go outside so Mandy’s garden could also be in the background. Your cheeks started to hurt from wearing the constant smile as you posed next to Luke. You prayed that your face wasn’t noticeably red from Luke having an arm around your waist, or the placement on his large hands in some of the pictures. But it was worth it because Mandy and Ellen took amazing photos that you knew you would be showing your future children one day.
And honestly, you thought that taking photos with Luke and your families was much better than the actual prom itself. Just you and Luke.
₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
Ellen, Jim, Quinn, Jack, and Luke all sat excitedly in your kitchen, patiently waiting alongside your parents, all of them wearing semi formal clothes. They waited to see which college you decided on right before heading to your high school graduation. You told them to stay in the kitchen as you planned on walking out with your future university’s displayed on the top of your graduation cap.
“I think she’s going to UNC,” Steven told Jim, his fingers drumming against the marble counter, “Maybe Florida.”
Jim hummed, “Lukey, you have any idea where she’s going?”
Luke only shrugged while fiddling with the sleeve of his light blue dress shirt, “I have no idea. She didn’t tell me where she was applying.”
“Any chance she’ll go to UMich with Luke?” Ellen asked to Mandy, who was ironing your grad gown.
“UMich is the best school,” Jack nodded to his mom,
Quinn lightly hit his arm, “Shut up, you never even went to college.”
“Hey, I’m just saying!” Jack laughed, “I’m kidding, wherever she wants to go will be great.”
Mandy smiled, picturing her and Ellen’s babies going from diapers all the way to college together, “It would definitely make our lives easier, but I don’t think she wants to stay in Michigan.”
Ellen sighed, her finger tracing the rim of her glass, “Understandable. As long as our girl is happy!”
“Ready?” You called out, feeling absolutely giddy as you adjusted your white graduation dress and fiddled with the edges of your graduation cap. You heard series of yeses before you took a deep breath. You turned the corner and stepped foot into the kitchen, holding out the cap with your university logo bedazzled on top, when loud cheers broke out.
Luke was first to tackle you into a hug, his arms squeezing around you while he lifted you off your feet, “No fucking way!”
You laughed as you put your arms around him, “Are you surprised?”
“Hell yeah I am!” Luke grinned as he lowered you to your feet. His eyes looking at your shirt again, Luke laughing in disbelief as he took hold of your cap and admired the large M bedazzled in maize and navy gemstones filling the rest of the empty space.
“This is so exciting!” Ellen gushed as she pushed her youngest son out of the way, “Oh my babies are going to college together!”
“Good for you, Bear!” Quinn congratulated you with a big hug with Luke and Jack joining in, “Michigan is lucky to have you.”
“Oh honey, I am so proud of you!” Mandy said with a hand on her jaw, “And you won’t be too far from home! You can visit whenever you’d like! This is so fantastic!”
Your dad hugged you tightly, “My babygirl is all grown up! It’s time to head out so you can graduate!”
The crowd was loud when it was your turn to walk the stage. You could hear Jack, Quinn, and Luke hollering and cheering when your name was announced. You smiled and gave a small wave before shaking hands with your principal and accepting your high school diploma. Your parents and the entire Hughes family were on their feet as they clapped loudly as you walked off the stage.
You met them outside once the ceremony ended, hugging your parents both right when you saw them. Mandy pressing multiple kisses to your head and cheeks as she gushed how proud she was of you.
“Congrats Bear!” Jack exclaimed, giving you a single arm hugged, “Super glad you have two working shoulders when you crossed that stage!”
You rolled your eyes playfully at the mention of your previous injury, “Oh shut up.”
“I’m so proud of you!” Luke said to you as you approached him and he greeted you with open arms. You embraced him, your cheek against his chest,
“Thank you Lukey”
Ellen fished out her phone and pointed at the two of you, “I need my two little graduates to take a photo! Both of you hold up the cap, show off UMich!”
You smiled, holding up one side of your cap as Luke took hold of the other. You were still tucked into his side with his left arm around your waist as the two of you smiled brightly at the camera. You tried to ignore the electric feel of his hand holding your waist while posing for pictures. He never moved that hand as Jack and Quinn hopped in for a few pictures, then the Mothers, and then the Dads.
The Hughes hosted the graduation party in their backyard, lots of the Hughes brothers’ friends attending, many which you were familiar with and a few of your close friends joining too. Ellen went full out with getting large balloons and setting up tables with various snacks and drinks for people to enjoy.
Happiness filled the air, with celebration of achieving a milestone with all of your friends and the buzz of summer without any responsibilities being right around the corner. You were currently catching up with Jack’s friends Alex, Trevor, and Cole — who you were more than familiar with after spending multiple summers at the lake house together.
Luke stood between Quinn and Jack, as they talked about their plans for the summer. But Luke’s attention was elsewhere. He was admiring the relaxed and friendly nature that you held while chatting with the three hockey players. He could see the relief of finishing high school written all over your face, the many nights you spent studying for tests or completing assignments which all paid off. Luke was there with you on those nights whether it be on FaceTime as he kept you company while laying in bed as you flipped through pages, or when you spent the night at his house. Where you sat at his desk, typing away at your computer while Luke rewatched his performance from his previous game and studied how to improve his game.
You were happy, and he swore you were glowing with how the sunlight shined on you.
“When are you going to tell her?” Quinn nudged Luke’s side, breaking his trance. Luke’s eyes widened slightly as he turned to look at Quinn,
“Huh?”
Quinn chuckled, “Oh c’mon dude, you’ve been in love with her for years.”
Luke’s face flushed red, “I have not!”
His palms got clammy the second Quinn called him out. Luke knew he caught feelings for you ages ago, although he didn’t exactly know when. But he told himself that you would never see him the same. He buried his feelings for you to make sure that you or anyone else would never find out. Because as much as he loved you, he would rather just be your friend than to lose you.
“You don’t have to deny it,” Jack snickered at Luke’s obvious embarrassment, “We’ve known for the longest time.”
“And you two are both going to the same college, like bro you’re literally set.” Quinn added, while sipping his drink, “She loves you too if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Luke’s eyes widened even more, “She told you that?!”
Quinn shook his head, laughing under his breath, “No, but I- we can all tell.”
“I just don’t wanna make things weird or mess anything up,” Luke mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck before glancing over to you, “We’ve known each other for years and I can’t lose her.”
“You’re being so dramatic,” Jack groaned, “You’re never going to lose her unless you do something royally fucked up because you matter just as much to her.”
“You know her just as well as you know us,” Quinn told Luke, “You’ve got to feel something when you’re around her that tells you how she’s feeling.”
Luke sighed, looking back at you. Your eyes met his and you gave him a small look that was a silent message for, ‘my social battery is going and I need to take a breather’. Luke offered a small nod and his eyes flickered to the glass sliding door, “Sorry guys, hold on.” He quickly apologized to his brothers before leaving them.
“Whipped.” Jack laughed as he lowly shook his head with a small knowing smile on his face.
You had also excused yourself from Trevor’s conversation before meeting Luke by the door. He slid it opened and motioned you to go in, him following you.
“You okay?” Luke asked you softly with an hand on your lower back as the two of you walked towards the living room.
You let out a breath of relief, “Yeah, I’m okay! It’s just hot and lots of talking. I just needed to get away for a little bit.”
He wore a small smile, “Yeah I get that. Good turn out though, eh?”
You nodded, settling onto the couch, “Mhm, I’m happy everyone was able to come. I just can’t believe I’m officially done high school, like, that’s crazy to me!”
“Next stop is UMich,” Luke told you, his arm resting on the cushion behind your back as you laid your head on his shoulder, “Well, lake house summer first then we’re off to college.”
“Another adventure for us,” You sighed, relaxing into his side, “It’s going to be good, Lukey, I can feel it.”
₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
Cardboard boxes bumped against your knees as you shift your weight, balancing a duffel bag over one shoulder and clutching your welcome packet between your teeth. It was move-in day which meant it was hot, chaotic, and full of stressed-out parents and RAs with clipboards.
As you finally get the door to your dorm open and drop your stuff inside, a voice behind you called out.
“Need help, Bear?”
You don’t even have to turn around. You already know exactly who that voice belongs to.
“What are you doing here?” You said, glancing over your shoulder to look at him. You and Luke didn’t know which rooms you’d be in prior to move in day, so you were pleasantly surprised to see him.
Luke is standing in the doorway across the hall, holding a mini fridge like it weighed nothing. His curls were a sweaty mess from hauling his boxes upstairs, and there’s a little smile on his face, the same one he’s had since grade three when you two discovered that you would be in the same class together.
“I think we’re living across the hall from each other,” Luke said to you before he kicked his door open with his heel and disappeared into his room for a second before popping back out.
“You need any help?” Luke asked, “You know, since I have strong arms that can carry things for you.”
You wiped away some of the sweat on your forehead, “Oh shush, just because you were at the gym every day this summer doesn’t mean anything.”
Luke nodded, “Okay, let me know if you need any help though.”
“This is going to be so fun, Lukey. Living across the hall from each other.” You laughed, “We should get dinner tonight.”
“Yeah, for sure.” He nodded while shoving the doorstop under his door, keeping it open while he started to settle into his dorm.
You spent the next hour getting your half of the dorm room set up. Your roommate, Lexie, arrived halfway through unpacking with three suitcases, multiple tote bags filled with decor and multiple posters.
“I already stalked the floor on the group chat,” She confessed to you, fanning herself with a laminated packing list, “I think we’re across from some of the players of the hockey team. You know any of them?”
You hesitated slightly while halfway through folding your comforter, “Yeah, one of them.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, “Know him how?”
You shrugged, “We grew up together.”
Lexie paused, then peeked out the open door and immediately spotted Luke across the hall, UMich hockey shirt sticking to his back as he dragged a mattress topper into place.
“That’s Luke Hughes?” She whispered like he’s already a campus celebrity, “He’s on the varsity team. The girls have already been talking about him! Did you know his brothers are in the NHL, they’re like super hot!”
You snorted, shaking your heading slightly, “Gross.”
Lexie glanced between the two of you again, noticing how he gave you a small crooked smile when your eyes met, “You two have that energy, though.”
You put down your comforter and gave her a look, “What energy?”
“You know… the will they finally get together or friends to lovers but haven’t reached the lovers stage yet, kind.”
“We’re just friends,” You laughed as you turned your focus back to your bedding.
Lexie smirked, noticing how your cheeks were slightly pinker than before, “Sure, you keep telling yourself that, and I’ll keep your delusions safe under my pillow.”
Across the hall, Luke tossed a pack of protein bars that Ellen packed him into his desk drawer when his own roommate, Ethan Edwards, walked in. They met each other briefly at the hockey team’s orientation that same morning and they kicked it off.
“She’s hella cute,” Ethan said immediately, dropping his duffel bag and glancing across the hall to your door.
Luke doesn’t even have to ask who Ethan was referring to, “Shut up.”
“No, seriously,” Ethan told him, “Girl next door vibes, have you met her yet?”
Ethan chuckled to himself after, realizing the unintended pun that he had just said.
“Yeah.” Luke replied with his voice trying to stay casual, “She’s… Y/N, we’ve known each other forever.”
Ethan eyed him carefully before looking back towards your room, “Forever like ‘same elementary school,’ or forever like ‘you were in love with her before you knew what love was’?”
Luke rolled his eyes at him, “We’re friends.”
Ethan raised both of his hands in surrender, “Dude, no judgment. I’m just saying, you keep looking at her like she’s your favourite highlight reel.”
Luke scoffed and tossed a hoodie onto his bed. But he doesn’t deny it, because Ethan’s not wrong.
Later that day after hours of setting up your rooms, you and Luke ended up in the hallway again. The both of you trying to order pizza while standing on opposite sides of the hall with your doors open.
“What are you getting?” He asked, leaning against his doorframe, with his phone in hand. Luke had his hood over his head like he typically did when he was tired.
“Pepperoni for you and I got veggie, don’t judge. I don’t want to hear your slander.” You mumbled before crossing the short distance to stand next to him. He put his arm around your shoulders as you peered over to look at his phone screen.
“I’m judging a little,” Luke chuckled as he scrolled through his reels, “That’s not real pizza.”
“Says the guy who puts pineapple on his,” You shot back, referring to the night he had requested Hawaiian pizza at the lake house before everyone started to flame him.
“Oh shut up,” He said, drumming his fingers against your shoulder, “That was one time, plus it’s really not that bad. You gotta give it a chance.”
“You’re insane.” You smiled up at him which he returned. Somewhere in the middle of the light and playful teasing, a silence settled, not necessarily awkward. More so the realization that you and Luke were officially living alone and outside of the protection of Jim, Steven, Ellen, and Mandy. You were adults now. You could do whatever you wanted, no one else really knew you two or the history the two of you had. You were just Y/N and he was just Luke. You both felt it, even if you won’t say anything about it.
You stay relaxed at his side, “Is your roommate nice?”
Luke nodded, “Yeah, his name is Ethan. He’s from Canada and he’s really cool, I think you’d get along.”
You hummed, “I’m so hungry.”
“It’ll be here soon, Bear,” Luke reassured you.
You and Luke were quick to fall into a comfortable routine that involved going to classes, him going to practice and team lifts, while you went to study at the library. College has been great, you loved your campus and all of your classes. You loved how you and Luke got to experience it together. He had introduced you to his teammates, Ethan, who you met already, Mark, Dylan, and Mackie. You got along great with them, given how you were used to hockey players from growing up with the Hughes and meeting all their friends. You would study together, attend his games, go to frat parties on the weekends, and grab meals together. It was different in comparison to high school, but a good different. You liked being able to spend so much time with Luke, he was your person after all. Around him, you could be yourself completely.
The late-night quiet of the dorm was comforting and peaceful, if you could ignore the muffled sounds of people laughing and talking down the hall. The clock on the wall ticked softly as you sat at the desk in Luke’s dorm room, your laptop open on one end of his desk, the glow of the screen lighting up the mess of papers and pens across the desk.
It was a familiar scene, one that you encountered on a regular basis. Luke, leaning back in his chair, looking over notes with an expression that could be described as borderline failing miserably but I’m drafted to NHL so my grades don’t really matter. You, on the other hand, are buried in your textbooks, trying to keep your concentration intact while you explain concepts for the tenth time.
You were used to this role, the one where you’re always the one to hold things together academically. But something about this time feels different. Maybe it’s because the room is so quiet, or maybe it’s because of the way his gaze drifts toward you, like he’s waiting for the right moment to say something more than ‘help me with this’.
You glanced over at him, and he caught your eye. His lips quirked up into a lazy smile, the one that always managed to make you forget what you were thinking about.
“You look like you’re prepping to solve cancer or something,” He teased, his voice low but playful, as though the joke is the only thing keeping him from drowning in the pile of chemistry notes in front of him.
“Prepping for not failing,” You corrected him with a shrug, before writing down the answer to a problem in your notebook, “Which is more than I can say for someone whose flashcards say ‘thingy that explodes’ instead of ‘combustion reaction.’” You tried to keep your tone casual, but the playful jab has an edge of affection to it.
Luke looked down at his flashcards and groaned, “Hey, it works for me. You don’t see me freaking out over these equations.”
He picked up one of his cards, glancing at it with a concentrated expression, “Okay, so what’s this one again? The thing that goes boom?”
You suppressed a smile, rolling your eyes as you leaned closer to his side of the desk. “You’re hopeless,” You said, taking the card from his hand and flipping it around to show him the correct answer.
“I’m not hopeless,” He replied, dragging his hands down his face and across his jaw in an exaggerated motion. You gave him a small look while lowly shaking your head.
“I’m just… misdirected.” Luke told you while he held up his hands in surrender, mock-pleading, “Come on, save me from myself. Teach me how to actually learn this.”
You can’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Despite the fact that he’s one of the most athletically gifted people you’ve ever met, the way he struggled with academics was almost endearing.
“You know,” You started slowly, inching your chair closer to him, “You could probably ace this stuff if you paid attention to class and not only focused on hockey. I mean, you’re not stupid, Lukey.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your words, “Yeah? Try telling my chem professor that.”
“Your professor is a walking disaster,” You told him with a light chuckle, “And we both know that.”
Luke laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair again, “Yeah, she does tend to go on tangents in lecture. But you’re the one who actually gets this stuff. Seriously, though, how do you do it?”
You blinked at him, unsure of what he meant, “How do I- do what?”
“Get it all,” Luke repeated, waving his hand around the room as if the entire weight of your life hangs in the air. “School. Your friends. Family. Everything. You make it look easy.”
Your heart tugged at the sincerity in his voice. You knew Luke admired you in some way, but hearing it spoken out loud is different. It makes you want to say something, anything, because for a brief moment, you forget about the textbooks and the flashcards. All you can think about is him, sitting across from you like he’s waiting for some grand answer to his question.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, “I don’t make it look easy,” You told him softly, “I just… I don’t let myself think about it too much. I just do it.”
Luke studied you carefully for a moment. You catch the way his eyes lingered on your face, just a fraction too long for it to be a casual glance. He looks like he’s weighing his options for next words, unsure if he should continue this line of conversation or pull back into the comfortable space the two of you built over the years.
Before you can speak again, Luke cleared his throat and straightened his posture, his playful grin returning, “Well, at least someone here has their life together.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Okay, Mr. 4th overall NHL draft pick.”
His eyes had an unfamiliar glint in them when he looked back at you, his eyes flickered over your features before he turned back to his notes. Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to focus on the study materials in front of you. You’re both avoiding the unspoken tension that’s been building between you for weeks now, maybe since the lake house. The tension that’s simmered under your friendly interactions, the flirty banter that’s lingered just a bit too long in the air, the subtle touches that became normal between the two of you.
You glanced at him, and he caught you again. This time, his gaze softened for just a second before he stood abruptly, breaking the moment. “Alright, alright, I need a break. Let’s go get something to eat or something, does ice cream sound good?”
You blinked, surprised at the abrupt change in his energy, but you nodded, “Yeah, sure. Ice cream sounds good.”
Luke pushed himself out of his chair, stretching out his limbs from sitting too long before he grabbed his hat and placed it over his curls that have grown since the start of the school term. He goes to the door and holds it open for you. You follow, but your mind was still tangled in the brief flicker of vulnerability that passed between you just seconds before. You wonder if he felt it too, or if it’s just you. But either way, you’re both pretending it doesn’t matter.
₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
The music is too loud, the kind of bass-heavy, thumping beats that vibrated through your chest. The floor is sticky beneath your shoes, and the air smells like spilled drinks and sweaty bodies. It's the usual college frat party vibe, fun, chaotic, a little messy, and everyone trying to forget about the homework that hung over them like an invisible blanket.
But you don't want to be here. Not really. The only reason you're even at this party is because Lexie convinced you to go, “Loosen up," She said to you while getting ready in your shared bathroom, "Get a little wild, do it for the plot, and it's the weekend."
She’d been pulling at you like that lately, trying to get you to flirt, to have fun. Especially after you told her that you and Luke are strictly friends and will never be more than that. Lexie could see how the built up tension between you and Luke recently has been bothering you, even though you refuse to do anything about it. Every time you spend time with it, the tension thickened where the two of you are both walking on a fine line between staying the same way you’d always been since babies, or maybe exploring something more. At least, that’s how you felt, no matter how much you tried to shove down your feelings.
And tonight, it’s not just that your gaze was drawn to him. It was something else, a sense of jealousy that settled in your chest when you saw him with her.
Luke.
And her.
The blonde. You don’t even know her name. But it didn’t matter. She’s the one hanging off his arm, where you usually stood, she was laughing way too loud at something he barely said. The way she leaned in close, fingers grazing his chest, tilted her head in that practiced way that’s designed to pull guys. You feel like you’re watching something that shouldn’t be happening.
Your stomach tightened as you forced yourself to focus on Dylan and Ethan, the guys from Luke’s hockey team, who were currently talking to you. They were talking, but you’re not really listening. Dylan’s words are a blur, the sounds of his voice blending into the background of your thoughts. All you can think about is Luke being across the room, standing too close to that blonde, his body language open, laughing at something she’s said.
Ethan frowned as he noticed the change in your behaviour. He’d become a close friend while being Luke’s roommate and teammate, meaning that you two had spent decent time together, “You okay?” He asked you over the loud music, his eyes flickered towards Luke’s direction.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You shrugged, attempting to stay unbothered by Luke and the girl but ultimately failing to hide that from Ethan.
You’re aware that it’s petty and that you shouldn’t really care. He’s allowed to have a life, to talk to whoever he wants. But a part of you, the part that’s been pretending for weeks that you’re okay with just being friends, wanted to scream. Part of you wanted to make him notice you, wanted to pull him away and show him how ridiculous this all feels.
You don’t. Instead, you shift uncomfortably, nodding along with Dylan’s joke, but it’s hollow. You laughed only because it feels like the right thing to do while you tried to distract yourself. It was obvious you’re not really paying attention to anything around you.
And then, of course, you met his eyes. His blue eyes.
Across the crowded room, through the colourful lights and the haze of smoke from people’s vapes and pens, your eyes locked. For a split second, time seemed to slow down. It’s just Luke. Just you. And the rest of the world is a blur. You swallowed hard, unsure of what he was thinking. His face doesn’t show surprise, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes.
Then the moment’s over, Luke doesn’t look back at you again. Instead, he turned his attention back to the blonde, who laughed louder than before, and you feel something sharp twist in your gut. You forced yourself to look away, forcing yourself to stop thinking about how things used to be so simple between the two of you. How his attention used to be yours, how you didn’t have to share him with anyone other than his brothers and your parents.
Later into the night, when you’re getting another drink, you spot him across the room again. This time, he’s watching you. There’s no mistaking it, you could feel his eyes following your movements. His gaze is fixed on you, his expression was unreadable, but you can feel the weight of it on your skin. But you don’t go over to him and you don’t approach. You just stand there for a moment, breath caught in your throat, before you walked away.
You’re not sure how to feel, a part of you wanted to scream at him for even looking at her the way he does. For laughing with her and ditching you at a party. For acting like the last few months when it was just the two of you, sitting together in dorm rooms or late nights at the library, talking about everything and nothing, hadn’t been real. But another part of you, the one that really knows him, tells you it doesn’t mean anything. He’s just doing what he’s always done: being Luke. Being charming. Being the guy who has the drawing confidence that pulls people towards him without him even trying.
But then why was it hurting so much?
You hated the part of you that feels possessive, the part that wants him all to yourself. You never felt this way before, you always knew that he was there for you no matter what. You never had to worry that he would put someone else before you, because it had always just been you and Luke. Disregarding your previous boyfriends, Luke was always there to support you, keep you company, and to comfort you.
Does he even see you the way you see him?
You’ve never been good at saying what you feel, not when it matters or when it comes to big emotions like the ones you’ve been feeling. Maybe it’s better that way. Because if you let yourself admit what’s been building inside you for months, maybe it would destroy everything. Or maybe it’s already too late for that. Now, more than ever, you really wished that you could sit down with your mom or even Quinn to get their advice.
The week after the party feels like walking through fog. Everything is there, but it’s hazy, unclear, the edges softened by an almost unbearable sense of distance. You told yourself that it’s just because you’re both busy studying, he had hockey practices, socials that you don’t really want to go to, but feel obligated to attend. But the truth, buried beneath all the distractions, is that the distance is because of him. You’d been pushing him away because you were scared, after feeling the strong jealousy at the party and seeing him with another girl in his arms, you were scared. You still spent time with him but you kept a small distance, shorter responses, calculated laughs, and avoiding any intimate moments with him.
Luckily, Luke knew you and he kept his distance from you. He knew that you must’ve been going through something, but he wouldn’t pressure you into telling him. He knew you would come around eventually, so he let the distance between you two grow.
Every time you pass him in the hall, the hollow ache in your chest grows stronger, and no matter how much you try to bury it, the jealousy, the longing, it’s always there, just lurking beneath the surface. You see him in the distance, talking to a group of his teammates, laughing too easily with them, and for a moment, you can almost convince yourself that it’s just a harmless crush and how it’s just a phase that will pass. But you know better.
The sharp pangs of something more make it hard to breathe.
He’s so close, and yet, he's always so far away.
You can’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, when your feelings started shifting, when the walls you’d built to protect yourself started to crumble. Was it that first time he looked at you, really looked at you, like he saw you as something more than just his friend that he grew up with? Or was it the countless nights, sitting together in his dorm room, laughing over different stupid things, sharing moments you never let anyone else see? Maybe it’s the way his hand brushed against yours, a casual touches that sent your heart into overdrive, or the way his gaze lingered on you just a second too long when he thinks you aren’t looking that made your skin heat up.
The worst part of all of it, was that he seemed so unaware of it and of you. Of the way you’ve been falling for him, little by little, while he remained oblivious to the quiet chaos building inside you. And now, for the first time in your life, you’re not too sure how to act around him. You couldn’t just go back to being the friend you’ve always been, treating him as the same little blonde Lukey that you knew since you were in diapers, because he wasn’t the same as back then. You both grew up, with him becoming an elite hockey player that everyone knew on campus and you were just his childhood friend. But the thought of telling him what had been slowly eating away at you, felt like the most dangerous thing you could do. The risk of losing him completely terrified you.
Tonight was no different, you’re sitting in the library, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead barely enough to drown out the thoughts that were racing through your mind. The place is nearly empty, except for a few scattered students, their heads buried deep in their textbooks. You’re across from Luke again, his hockey gear bag sprawled carelessly beside his chair, his legs stretched out under the table as he typed away at his phone.
You hated how easily he could just turn off everything. He has this ability to compartmentalize, to separate the world from what’s happening in his head. He’d been like this for a while now, confident, composed, a natural at deflecting whatever chaos might be around him.
And you... you’re sitting here, fully aware that the only thing you can focus on was him. How his hair falls over his forehead, how he had been letting his curls grow out, how his shoulders slumped slightly in the chair, how he seemed so at ease even when everything feels like it’s falling apart for you.
Your eyes drifted over to him as he put down his phone, leaning back in his chair with a small sighing exhale. His blue eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he could see what you were feeling. But he just smiled at you, that easy, carefree crooked grin that he’s always had since he was a toddler. The one that makes your heart stutter and skip a couple of beats.
“You’re awfully quiet today, Bear,” Luke said, his voice low, but playful. He doesn’t seem to notice how much his words sting, how much it hurts to hear him act like everything is fine when it’s anything but.
You nodded, forcing a smile, “Just trying to get through this stupid twenty page reading, you know how it is.”
He laughed softly, the sound was familiar and comforting. However, there’s a sense of something off in his tone, a subtle edge to it that caught your attention, “I don’t know how you do it, with studying all the time and putting your life into school.”
Your chest tightened at the words, you wonder if he even saw what you’re really struggling with. How much you’re holding back just to keep up the act and how your recent hyperfixation on studying was only a way to avoid confronting your feelings.
“You’ve got other things to worry about,” You told him, forcing the words past the ball in your throat, “I mean, like being the best hockey player on campus?”
Luke smirked, a glimmer of pride flashed in his eyes, “I guess so, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t count as an academic achievement. I’m lucky that my best friend is also my personal tutor.”
You raised an eyebrow, trying to match his playful energy, but inside, you’re a mess. You wanted to tell him that it’s more than that, that you’re not just his best friend. But you don’t. You can’t. Not yet.
Instead, you settled into the silence between you, putting your focus back to your textbook, since it’s all you can do to keep your hands from shaking. He’s sitting there, so close, but it feels like miles of space is between you.
As if by some cruel twist of fate, you saw her again, the blonde. The same one from the party. She walked into the library, head held high, and as she passed your table, not even glancing at you as she offered him a flirtatious smile. He grinned back, a little too easily.
Your stomach clenched with the kind of discomfort you can’t ignore bubbling up, an unspoken reminder of everything you had been avoiding. You tell yourself it shouldn’t matter, that he’s allowed to talk to whoever he wanted, that you don’t have a claim over him. But the jealousy still crawled up your throat, and it was thick and suffocating.
You looked away, pretending to focus on your MacBook, but all you could think about is how easily she can just walked into his world, how easily she could claim a piece of him, a piece of the person you’ve always tried to protect.
For a moment, you hated her. You hated how effortlessly she fits into this world that’s always felt just out of reach for you. How she didn’t have to worry about ruining a lifelong friendship and being able to have him as something more. You hated that you wanted to be the one who gets to talk to him like that. To have him look at you, like you were the only girl to walk the Earth.
The walls you had been building this time were crumbling, and the worst part was that you told yourself that it was all your fault. That you let yourself get this attached and that you let yourself care. But the more you saw him with other people, the more you realized that you didn’t even know who you were when you’re not with him. You didn’t know how to be just his friend anymore.
You wanted to say something, and you wanted to reach across the table and tell him everything you had been holding inside. You wanted to tell him how much it was hurting you and how it was slowly breaking you to pretend like you don’t care. But you couldn’t, not when you’re on the edge of something that could ruin everything.
You and Luke walked back to your dorms that night, in a comfortable silence. The February snow falling slowly and landing on your hair, “You okay?” Luke asked you, even though he knew you wouldn’t give him a truthful answer.
“Yeah,” You mumbled, “Just been tired lately.”
He nodded slowly, “You’ve been a bit distant lately, you sure you’re okay?”
You hummed, “Just midterm stress getting to me, you know.”
Luke sighed, running a hand through the mess of his curls, “Okay, just cut yourself some slack and don’t overstres yourself, Bear”
“I know, Lukey.”
You said your goodnights before entering your dorm, you relaxed into your bed after getting ready for the night as you pulled out your phone and dialling the number to the person you’d been meaning to talk to, he picked up after the second ring.
“Hey, Quinn,” You mumbled, “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”
He chuckled, “No, you’re good. I’m just making dinner right now, what’s up?”
You sunk further into your mattress, holding the phone to your ear, “Just need to talk to someone with emotional intelligence.”
“You okay?” He asked you, you could hear the tinge of concern in his voice, “Is this about Lukey? Or is there some other guy that I don’t know about”
“It’s about Luke,” You said, almost a wave of relief in your voice from finally being able to talk to Quinn, “I think I’m falling hard for him, and he’s been kind of seeing this other girl that he met at some party. And it’s been kinda killing me.”
You could basically hear the frown in his voice, “Lukey’s been talking to another girl?”
You hummed a small response, “She’s really pretty.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” Quinn told you with amusement laced in his voice, “There’s no way Luke is actually talking to a girl who isn’t you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you this but he’s had the biggest crush on you for years, he’s just been too scared to do anything about it,” Quinn chuckled, “I promise you that you have nothing to worry about, Bear, you both need to just take the leap of faith.”
“I just don’t want to lose him, Quinn,” You confessed to him, “He’s literally my other half, I don’t know who I would be without him.”“And he feels the exact same way about you,” He reassured you with the same comfort in his tone that he always had when talking to you, “It will work out, Bear. Don’t stress yourself too much over it.”
₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
The night air was crisp, a slight chill that bit at your skin, but it’s not uncomfortable. Not when you’re wrapped in Luke’s UMich hockey hoodie that was a few sizes too big for you, the sleeves swallowing your hands, the faint scent of ice and detergent still lingered on the fabric. You sat on the same bench outside the Yost Arena, the one under the flickering streetlight. It’s always a little unreliable, flashing once before settling into its usual steady glow. The rink itself is quiet now, save for the hum of campus around you, like the calm after the storm of the game.
You spotted Luke before he saw you, his large duffel bag slung over his shoulder, curls damp from the shower, cheeks flushed from the adrenaline of the game. There’s always an energy about him after a game, restless, electric, but tonight it’s different. Something else is weighing on him, and you could feel it, even from where you sat.
He didn’t notice you right away. His eyes scanned the area, distant, lost in his thoughts, until they finally landed on you. He hesitated for a second before his usual crooked half-smile appeared, but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time.
“You made it,” He breathed out, his voice softer than usual.
You nodded with a small teasing grin, “Did you think I wouldn’t? I always come to your game, Lukey. I have to come support my favorite idiot.”
He chuckled, dropping his bag beside the bench near your feet, “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure you’d come with the stress you’d been going through,” His eyes glanced to the ground for a moment, then back up to you, something in his gaze shifted, “You know, with midterms and being distant lately,”
You feel your chest tightened at his words, you’ve wondered for a while now if Luke’s had noticed you pulling away. How you were like a thousand miles away and lost in your own thoughts, even when he’s sitting right next to you.
He tried to ignore it, but it’s been hard. It’s like you have been retreating into yourself, and he didn’t know how to reach you. He worried that it was something that he did to you even though he couldn’t exactly put a finger on it… Until it sunk in, how he had been hanging out with that blonde since the party and how he caught your eyes from across the room and how he saw the wave of hurt wash over your face. How he had been spending time with that girl while you buried yourself in studying, just so that you could help him understand the class material better.
“I came because I still care,” You said quietly, the words spilling out before you can stop them.
You’re not sure what you expected, but this didn’t feel like the conversation you had in mind when you showed up tonight, only expecting the typical small conversation about his game as the two of you walked back to your dorms like normal. The nervous energy that hung between you both is palpable, and you wonder if he could feel it too.
He ran his hand through his curls while he looked away, his jaw tightened, “I don’t know what’s going on with me and you lately,” He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded slowly, the knot in your stomach tightening at his words, “I’m not sure if you felt it too but things between us have been changing,”
Luke looked at you again, his expression was unreadable, “I never meant to push you away or hurt you by talking to that girl, I just-” He hesitated, as if he’s weighing his next words in his head, “I didn’t know how to deal with everything I’ve been feeling and I didn’t want to risk hurting you or anything or losing our friendship.”
His words left you breathless, you knew that you had been distant because of your own feelings and you remembered what Quinn had told you over the phone but hearing him say it out loud makes the weight of it sink in.
You tried to shake off the sudden rush of emotions in your chest, “For whatever it’s worth, I’m still here and been next to you since we were born,”
Luke’s eyes softened, and he gave you that small smile that had always been reserved for you, the one that has always made your heart race. He sat down beside you on the bench, close but not quite touching..
“Thanks for being here,” He murmured, “I don’t deserve it, not after putting you through that.”
You smiled, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie further over your hands for extra warmth from the chills of March, “You don’t have to deserve it, I’m here because I want to be.”
For a long moment, the two of you sit in silence, the only sound is the soft rustling of branches in the breeze. You tried to ignore the tension between you, but it’s hard to shake. Luke seemed lost in his own thoughts, his gaze fixed on the stone path ahead of you two.
Out of nowhere he spoke up again, his voice low but steady, “There’s this moment, right before a face-off,” He said, the familiar intensity in his voice, “Everything goes still. The crowd, the pressure, even your own thoughts. It all just kinda… locks in. You know something big is about to happen, like you can feel it.”
You looked back at him, your heart suddenly racing. His blue eyes are intense, focused, but there’s something vulnerable about him tonight. He’s not the confident hockey player you’ve always known. Tonight, he’s just Luke, the same Luke that carried your backpack every day when you injured your shoulder, the same Luke that held you while you cried after being broken up with, and the same Luke that saw you for the first time in your prom dress.
“That’s how I feel right now,” Luke continued as his voice was soft and barely above a whisper.
The words hit you harder than you expected, you’ve never seen him this serious, you don’t breathe while you held the air in your throat.
He shifted, turning to face you fully, “We’ve been in each other’s lives forever, like since literal birth. You were there before the skates, before the first team tryout, before I ever touched a puck. You've seen every part of me, even the parts I wanted no one else to see,” He hesitated, his eyes never left yours, “And somehow, you stayed.”
Your heart was pounding, but it’s not from confusion or fear. It’s from something else, something you’re not sure you’re ready for, but it’s here, it’s real.
“I don’t know when exactly it changed,” Luke told you before taking a deep breath, “But I know what it is now and I think I’ve known for a while and I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. I love you, Bear. And not like a best friend, not like someone who’s always been around. I love you in the way that terrifies me, but also makes complete sense in my head. Like it is what I was made for.”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. His words leave you breathless, and the world around you seemed to stand still. You’ve known Luke for so long, but at this moment, everything became so real. All the emotions and feelings that you had been running away from, shoving down, all of it came surging at once.
As if the words aren’t enough, he leaned in closer to you with his voice barely above a whisper, “I’m yours. Always have been, yours truly.”
The moment hangs in the air, and for a second, you didn’t know what to say. The weight of everything he’s said, the vulnerability, the emotions, and the truth pressed in on you. You finally found your voice, your words soft and filled with a mix of affection and disbelief,
“You really are an idiot,” You said with slight amusement in your tone. Luke furrowed his brows in confusion, and you laughed, a soft and relieved sound, “I’ve been in love with you since you let me wear your jersey in freshman year of highschool and then acted like it didn’t mean anything,”
His eyes widened in disbelief, “Wait, what?”
“You thought you were the only one feeling like this?” You grinned, leaning closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I’ve been waiting for this moment for years.”
Before he could respond, you kissed him.
It’s slow at first, like both of you are testing the waters, unsure but sure at the same time. Luke’s hand curled around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, like he’s afraid to let you go. The kiss deepened and it’s messy, but it’s everything.
When you pulled away, your head spinned from the intensity of it. You rested against his shoulder, his arm easily slipping around your waist.
“Took you long enough, Lukey,” You teased but with affection.
He chuckled softly, his face buried in your hair, “Yeah, but I figured it out, didn’t I?”
And just like that, the world falls into place. The quiet is no longer waiting. It’s where you were always meant to be. The cold still lingers in the air, but it no longer matters. You’re wrapped in the warmth of Luke’s arms, his presence filling the space between you both in a way that makes everything else feel irrelevant. For a few moments, you simply sit there, letting the silence wrap around you like a blanket. The world feels far away and quieter now that the uncertainty that had been chewing away at you had been stripped away.
Luke’s arm is loosely around your waist, his thumb tracing slow, steady circles on your side. His warmth radiating onto you, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to pull away. The rush of everything that’s just happened is still swirling in your chest, but there’s something calming about being here with him now, like this was the only place you were meant to be all along.
“You’re quiet,” Luke mumbled after a while, his voice low and a little rough, like he’s still processing everything too, “I didn’t expect you to- well, I didn’t expect that after my game.”
You chuckled softly, your head still resting against his shoulder, your heart fluttering at the realization that he’s with you like this, “What? You thought I’d just sit here and let you confess your undying love without me saying anything?” You joked, but the words feel different now. More genuine and more real.
Luke shifted slightly, his face turning toward yours. The seriousness in his gaze hasn’t gone away, but there’s something softer in it now,
“I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d feel the same way. I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way.”
You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes and your hands found his, intertwining your fingers together. His touch grounded you like always, even when everything around you is shifting.
“Of course I do, Luke,” You replied, “I always have.”
He looked at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, like he’s trying to make sense of it all. There’s a quiet relief settling on his features, and it makes your heart ache in the best way possible.
“I’m not gonna lie,” He said after a long pause, his thumb lightly stroking the back of your hand, “I’m scared. I’ve always been scared that if I let myself get too close, I’d screw it all up.”
You smiled, the warmth spreading through your chest as you squeezed his hand, “You’re not the only one. I literally had to call Quinn about this, I’ve been terrified of this too, Lukey. But I think… maybe we’ve been scared of the wrong things all along.”
His brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ve been so afraid of messing things up that we’ve missed what’s been right in front of us. We’ve had all this time together,” You chewed the inside of your cheek as you tried to find the right words, “And yet, somehow, we’ve always been too afraid to take the next step.”
Luke’s gaze softened, and he pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you, “I don’t want to mess this up, either. I don’t want to lose you.”
You rested your forehead against his, the closeness, the rawness of the moment pulling at something deep inside you, “You won’t lose me, Luke. You’re not going to. But we can’t keep pretending this thing between us isn’t real. It’s been real all along. Even when we’ve been scared. Even when we’ve been apart.”
He let out a long breath that seemed to release some of the tension he’d been holding. He kissed the top of your hair, “I’ve been such an idiot,” Luke mumbled.
You laughed quietly, looking up at him again, “Better late than never, right?”
Luke chuckled, the sound light and easy. It’s the first time in what feels like forever that you’ve heard him laugh without the weight of everything else hanging over him, “Yeah. Better late than never.”
But then, his expression grew serious again, and he pulled back slightly, still holding you but looking at you with that intensity that you’ve come to recognized as the Luke who can’t hide his emotions, even when he tried.
“I’ve been thinking about going home this weekend,” He said, almost hesitantly, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, but I need to get away for a bit. Just to clear my head. But I want to be honest with you, more than I’ve been in a long time.”
You nodded, understanding where this is going, “You’re planning on leaving?”
He bit his lip, clearly conflicted, “I think I need to. But I want you to know, this… like us, it’s not going anywhere. I don’t want to go home and leave things unsaid between us. I need to figure out… well, a lot of things. But not because I want to walk away, I just- I don’t want to mess this up, not when it’s finally real, I just need time.”
You reached up, cupping his face in your hands to urge him to look at you, “You won’t mess this up, Luke. Not with me. I know it’s scary, but we’ll figure it out. We always have. And if you need to go home, then go. But I hope you know that I’m here for all of it.”
Luke glanced at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, and then he nodded, the weight of the conversation settling in. He pulled you into another hug, it’s firm and comforting. The embrace is a promise of things unspoken, of a future you both want to build. When you pulled back, your faces are still close, your breath dancing in the cold night air.
“Just come back to me,” You whispered, your voice barely above your breath.
“I will,” He promised, his forehead resting against yours, “I’ll always come back to you.”
The days after Luke’s confession feels like a quiet storm brewing. You’ve spent days texting back and forth, trying to find a rhythm again, but the distance he’s always hinted at is still there of being scared to commit to the full thing. He’d gone home for the weekend, as he said he would, and though you’re not surprised, it still feels like a void where his presence used to be.
You think about him often, about the way he held you under the dim glow of that streetlight, his words raw and honest in a way that shook you to your core, “I’m yours. Always have been. Yours truly.” You catch yourself grinning at the memory of it as his confession has been playing on a loop in your head since that night.
You sat in the small study area of your dorm, trying to focus on your biology textbook but found your mind wandering instead. It had been a few days off since the game. Your notes feel like a blur, and every text from Luke feels like a thread pulling you both back into a tangled mess of uncertainty. He’d become distant again, but this time, it felt different. He was holding back, not because of fear, but because he’s not sure how to navigate this new version of the two of you together. It bothered you a bit of how you two finally confronted your feelings but how Luke was so quick to run away from facing the future.
The door to your dorm opened and you looked up to see Lexie, your roommate, standing there, leaning against the frame with a look of amusement on her face.
“You okay?” She asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.
You forced a small smile, “Yeah, just studying.”
She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips, “Are you really studying? Or are you staring at your phone and thinking about someone in particular?”
You laughed softly, your cheeks flushing. “Okay, maybe a little of both.”
Lexie stepped fully into the room and letting the door shut behind her, she sat across from you at the small desk.
“I hate to be the one to say it, but you’re both really not being subtle right now.”
“I’m just…” You trailed off, trying to find the right words, “I’m trying to figure out what this is, you know? I mean, we’ve been friends for literally forever and now things are different, but it’s not like I can just jump into a relationship. Not with everything that’s already happened.”
Lexie watched you closely as her eyes softened, “You’re both clearly so in love with each other, it’s almost painful to watch. Seriously, you said you’ve felt this way towards Luke since high school, and you two have been all flirty since we moved in. I don’t even know how many times he’s been here or you being in his dorm. What’s the hold-up?”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair, “I don’t know. I think we’re both still scared, Lexie. I mean, Luke’s been distant again and even though I get it, it’s hard. We’ve never been in this territory before.”
“I get it,” She told you, “But listen, don’t waste time. I can tell you this from watching you two since September, it’s been like eight months now: you are each other’s person. And sometimes the right person doesn’t make it easy, but they’re worth fighting for.”
The weekend passed slowly, Luke texted you a couple of times, letting you know he’s just spent time with Ellen and Jim, and how Mandy had stopped by to visit for a bit. He seemed distracted, but he assured you he was coming back soon. You responded, but each message feels like it’s adding more distance instead of closing the gap.
When Monday finally rolled around, you found yourself walking to Yost almost on autopilot. Your heart beated quicker with each step, you knew he was back today, but you’re not sure what to expect. What do you say after all the unspoken things that hang between you both?
You saw him before he saw you, like always. Luke stood by the rink, talking to one of his Mark and Mackie with his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. The moment your eyes met, something shifted. His posture straightened, and his expression softened, but there’s a hesitance in his movements. Like he’s unsure whether to close the distance between you or keep his distance just a little longer.
When you walked up to him, he greeted you with a small smile, his voice laced with a little bit of uncertainty, “Hey, Bear.”
“Hey,” You replied, you paused for a moment, unsure of where to go from here. It felt like you’re both treading carefully, afraid of stepping on the wrong thing, “How was home? How are Ellen and Jim?”
“It was good, they’re good and said they missed you,” He said with his tone flat, “Just needed some time, you know?”
You nodded, a knot forming in your stomach, “I was worried about you.”
Luke looked at you, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes which you couldn’t quite read, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was pushing you away,” He admitted quietly, his hands now out of his pockets, rubbing the back of his jaw awkwardly, “I just… I needed some space to think about everything, about us.”
You swallowed hard as you tried to steady the storm of emotions rising inside of your chest, “Luke… I get it, but you can’t keep pulling away like that. We both know we can’t hide from this anymore.”
He hesitated, then stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours, “I don’t know how to make it right. I don’t know how to fix everything I’ve screwed up.”
You reached out to him and placed a hand on his arm, mainly to ground him and maybe to ground yourself, “We don’t have to fix everything right away. But we can start with being honest with each other. No more hiding. No more pretending we’re not scared.”
Luke exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration, but there’s a shift in him, something opens up in the way he looks at you, “I don’t want to mess this up again. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re not going to lose me, I’ve said this to you before,” You told him, your voice firm and steady now, “But you can’t keep pushing me away, Luke. We’re both here. We’ve always been here.”
He stepped closer, the space between you both shrinking until his breath mingled with yours.
“I’m scared,” He said to you with raw honesty in his voice striking you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, “But I’m willing to figure it out. I’m willing to try, if you are.”
You smiled softly, your chest fluttered at his words, “I’m always going to be here for you, you know this.”
And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re finally both on the same page, facing the unknown together. Whatever happens next, you know this, this is real. The days after that conversation feel different and almost lighter. The weight of everything unspoken seems to have shifted off your shoulders, and though the air between you and Luke is still thick with emotions, it’s a good kind of tension now. No longer is it the uncertainty of what could be; it’s the anticipation of what will be.
You saw him more now around campus, on the rink, in the dining hall and every interaction, no matter how small, felt charged with something new. Every glance lingered just a little longer, every smile felt a little deeper. Luke was trying, and you’re starting to believe in him again.
It was a Saturday afternoon when it finally happened. The weather is crisp, with the kind of chill that bites at your cheeks but feels refreshing on the skin. You sat on a bench near the Yost arena, waiting for Luke to finish practice. Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you glanced at the screen to see a text from him.
Lukey: Meet me outside in 10? I have something to say.
Your stomach fluttered with the sudden nervous excitement that you’ve been trying to suppress all day. You typed a quick response,
Bear: is this a “big talk” or more of a “let’s just hang out” thing?
You don’t expect him to reply fast, but less than a minute later, another message from him popped up.
Lukey: It’s big. So I guess we’ll see if you’re still willing to hang out with me after I say it.
Your heart skipped a couple of beats. You tossed your phone in your tote bag, standing up as you tried to shake off the nerves. A part of you wants to believe it’s going to be something good, but you can’t shake the uncertainty creeping in. What if it’s not what you think?
You don’t have to wait too long before you spot him walking towards you. Luke’s dressed in a sweatshirt, his hockey bag still clinging to him, his eyes locked on you like he’s been waiting for this moment too. When he reached you, there’s no hesitation in his movements. He stepped forward and pulled you into a tight embrace before you could even speak.
“Hey Bear,” He said, his voice softer than usual, “Are you by any chance still mad at me?”
You chuckled and shook your head, “I’m not mad at you.”
“You sure?” He questioned and pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his brow furrowed in that worried way.
“Yeah,” You replied as you smiled at him, “Just trying to figure us out.”
He nodded, exhaling like he’s been holding his breath. There’s a pause, a moment of silence that feels like it stretched for just a little too long, before Luke took your hands in his, holding them firmly, like he’s not going to let go until he’s said everything that’s been weighing on him.
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” He begins, his voice steady but quiet, “About us. About what happened before I left. And I’ve realized that, all this time, I’ve been too scared to admit it,” He hesitated, swallowing hard before looking at you, “That I want you. I want this with you. No more pretending.”
You could feel your heartbeat against your chest, the words you’ve been waiting for, hoping for, finally spilled from him. You tried to meet his gaze, but it’s hard with your heart pounding so loudly you felt like he could hear it.
“I don’t want to hide anymore,” Luke continued, his hands squeezing around yours, “I want to be with you, for real,” He finished, the words slipping out with a kind of finality that makes your heart soar, “No more playing games or playing it safe, no more holding back.”
You blinked a couple of times as his words sank in, your chest full of emotions you can’t name. Your heart swells with relief, with joy, and with a kind of peaceful certainty that you never thought you’d get.
He stepped closer to you with his face inches from yours now. He paused, looking at you with a softness that’s unlike anything you’ve seen in him before.
“So,” He said with a slow smile forming, “Will you be my girlfriend? I know it’s a big question, but I’m hoping you’ll say yes.”
Your heart skipped a beat. The word you’ve been waiting to hear. The official title. And all you can do is smile because, in that moment, nothing else matters.
“I’ll say yes,” You answered with a firm voice but filled with all the joy you can’t contain, “Since it seems to matter a lot to you.”
Luke grinned and rolled his eyes playfully, his hands slipped to your waist as he pulled you into a kiss for the first time since the two of you had initially confessed your feelings. It’s soft at first but then, as if something inside both of you clicked into place, it deepens, the kiss becoming more urgent, more sure, like this is the moment everything shifted. You’ve both crossed that line, the one between friendship and an official relationship, and neither of you were planning on looking back.
When you pulled away, breathless, Luke rested his forehead against yours, “I can’t believe we’re finally doing this, after everything.”
“You’re not the only one,” You mumbled, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, “But I’m glad we are.”
The weeks after you and Luke officially got together are nothing short of magical. Every day feels like you’re discovering a new piece of him, and he’s doing the same with you. It’s not the whirlwind passion that you see in movies, it’s more like two best friends who’ve found their way back to each other in the most perfect of ways. It’s soft, slow, and steady.
On a lazy Sunday afternoon, you find yourselves in his dorm room. You’re sprawled across his bed, watching some random movie that neither of you really cared about. His arm is wrapped loosely around your waist, and every now and then, his fingers lightly brushed against the bare skin of your side. It’s a touch so gentle it could’ve been accidental, but it sends a shiver of warmth through you every time.
Luke’s got a half-grin on his face, eyes flickering back and forth between the screen of his laptop and you, “You’re not even paying attention,” he teased.
You rolled your eyes but didn't move to correct him, “I’m watching, I swear.”
“You’re really not,” He paused the movie and turned to face you, his hand resting on your hip, pulling you just a little closer, “What’s your favorite movie then, and why are we not watching it?”
You laughed, glancing at him, half-cocked in mock exasperation, “You know that my favourite movie is Tangled, but we’ve already watched it this week. We’re not doing that again.”
He narrowed his eyes, “We could watch it again. I wouldn’t mind seeing you quote all the lines before the characters do.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Are you implying that I’m predictable?”
“No,” He replied, grinning wider now, “I’m saying you’re adorable.”
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and without thinking, you moved closer, your lips brushing lightly against his. It’s a soft, quick kiss, the kind that doesn’t need words. Just the closeness, the quiet moment between two people who’ve found their way to each other and are content in this simple intimacy.
He pulled away just barely, his smile never fading, “You know, I’ve been thinking…”
“Uh-oh. That’s never good,” You teased before you laughed.
“Very funny,” He deadpanned, “No, seriously. I think I’m falling for you all over again.”
Your stomach did a few flips in your gut, “What do you mean ‘all over again’?”
He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “I mean, I’ve been in love with you since high school, but somehow, even though we’re finally together, every day with you feels like the first time I’m falling for you all over again.”
You smiled softly. “You’re really something, you know that?”
“I try,” He said before a sudden burst of confidence he added, “But seriously, I’m falling in love with you every single day, whether you notice it or not.”
You laughed softly, leaning your head on his shoulder, “I think I notice. In every little thing you do.”
Luke pressed play on his movie, his fingers skimming your sides but he could feel your gaze on him,
“You’re staring at me,” He told you, not even looking up away from his screen. He doesn’t need to, he knows you too well.
“I’m not staring,” You replied, trying to hide your smile, “I’m just… admiring.”
His eyes flickered down to meet yours, “Admiring what, exactly?”
“You,” You said with your voice quieter now, “Everything about you and how easy it is to love you.”
His expression softened and for a moment, he looked a little caught off guard. But then the corner of his mouth curls up in that signature crooked grin, “You’re gonna make me blush,” He teased, though there’s a glint of emotion in his eyes that you don’t miss.
“I’m just being honest.”
“I like when you’re honest,” He mumbled, “You’re the only one who really gets me. And it feels like you always have.”
You stared at him, taking in his curls that were once blonde fall over his forehead, his blue eyes that felt like home to you.
“God, I’m so in love with you,” He whispered and in this moment, with him holding you close, you know that love is made of the smallest, sweetest things.
₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
You’ve never seen Luke look so relaxed.
One hand is loosely resting on the steering wheel, the other draped over the center console, fingers gently tangled with yours. The road stretched ahead in long, lazy lines of sun-drenched pavement, the kind of empty two-lane highway that hums like summer itself. His truck windows are rolled down, the breeze warm against your skin, carrying the scent of pine and wildflowers.
Your feet are tucked up on the seat, his hoodie wrapped around you despite the heat. You’re not cold, you just like how it smells like him. His cologne, the faint trace of detergent, the lingering scent of the rink, even now.
“You know we still have two more hours of this, right?” He said as he glanced over at you with that slow grin that made your stomach flip in the best way, “You’re gonna be sick of me before we even get to the lake house”
You scoffed, leaning your head against the window, still holding his hand, “Impossible. I have life long experience with putting up with you.”
“Putting up with me?” He faked offense, “I’ll have you know I’m a delight.”
“You snore.”
“You drool.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, “That’s a low blow.”
He squeezed your hand gently, “Just keeping us humble.”
You laughed as you settled deeper into the seat. The playlist you made together is shuffling through songs, some throwbacks from high school, some new favourites, and a handful that make both of you smile because they only make sense to the two of you. You hummed along to one of them, and Luke started to tap the steering wheel in rhythm, occasionally stealing glances at you like he can’t believe you’re real.
It’s been three months since you got together, even though it has felt so much longer. Since that night under the flickering streetlight outside the Yost, where he finally told you he was yours. And somehow, things haven’t just stayed good. They’ve grown. You’ve grown together. The rhythm you’ve fallen into felt easy now, almost natural. Like every version of your friendship would always just lead to this.
“So,” You started, glancing sideways at him, “You think the Mothers are going to be weird about us sharing a room?”
He raised a brow, “Jim let me start using the truck when I was sixteen. I think they trust us.”
You smirked, “They shouldn’t.”
He laughed with his tone being deep and genuine, the kind of sound that makes your chest feel lighter, “You’re a menace.”
“I’m your menace,” You replied.
That shuts him up in the best way. His smile lingered but his eyes softened, and his hand tightened around yours again. You don’t need him to say it, you could feel it.
The miles roll on like memories stitched together, stopping for gas at some random station with sticky floors and surprisingly good coffee, singing loudly and terribly to the songs on your playlists, and debates on whether hot dogs count as sandwiches. He tried to distract you each time you attempted to read the GPS on his phone, and you retaliated by playfully swatting his exploring hands away. At one point on the drive, he pulled over on a scenic overlook just so he could kiss you under the blue summer sky.
Eventually, the trees start to thicken, the air shifting from sun-warmed highways to something cooler, quieter. The lake isn’t in sight yet, but you can feel it and smell it in the pine needles and the earthy scent of the woods. It feels like the world is exhaling, and you’re part of that breath.
You looked over at him again, and for a moment, you didn't say anything. You just look. He has a faint sunburn along the bridge of his nose. His curls are messy from the wind but tucked away under his cap that he always wore. His t-shirt fitted his muscular chest and arms deliciously, and his mouth was curved in a quiet, content line. He looks so perfectly Luke.
“What?” He asked as he glanced at you.
You shook your head, “Nothing. Just… happy.”
His thumb brushes over your knuckles, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Luke doesn’t look away, “Me too.”
There’s a long, warm silence that follows, the full and comfortable kind that only exists between people who know each other’s rhythms down to the pause between words. You reached over and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, then rested your head there, letting the hum of the road and the quiet promise in his voice settled around you like a blanket.
Luke’s truck rolled slowly up the winding driveway, tires crunching over the familiar gravel path that leads to the lake house tucked deep in the woods of northern Michigan. The air smells like pine needles and sun-warmed water, like every summer memory you’ve ever had stitched into one quiet, golden moment.
You spotted the house just beyond the clearing, same soft blue siding, same sagging porch swing, same wind chimes dancing in the window. But today, everything feels more alive, because this time, you’re showing up not just as his childhood best friend.
This time, you’re coming as his girlfriend.
And both your families already know it, they saw the pictures you had posted on your Instagram.
The truck came to a gentle stop, and Luke killed the engine. He glanced sideways at you with that half-crooked grin that still makes your stomach flutter.
“You ready?” He asked you softly.
You nodded, “Are you?”
He exhaled, then smiled wider, “Yeah. Kind of feels like the end of one story and the start of the one we were always meant to be in.”
Before either of you can open your doors, the front screen door slammed open with a bang.
“They’re here!” Ellen called out with her voice familiar, warm, and joyful.
She’s already moving across the porch with her arms wide, your mom just a few steps behind her, equally glowing.
“My girl!” Ellen beamed as she pulled you into a tight hug that smells like lilacs and lemon and like the childhood you’ve known, “You finally made it.”
“You act like I haven’t been here every year since I was five,” You laughed, burying your face in her shoulder.
“But this is the first time you’re showing up with my Lukey’s hand in yours,” She whispered, pulling back just enough to look at you, “It’s about time, sweetheart.”
“I’m not crying,” Mandy said behind Ellen, “I’m just so happy.”
You turned to hug her too, both of you laughing through the swell of emotion.
Jim and Steven come down the steps next, grinning like they’ve already had money on this (which all the parents did). They shook Luke’s hand, clapped him on the back, and pulled you both into what can only be described as a team huddle.
“Welcome back, Bear,” Jim said to you, “Your room’s still upstairs unless, of course, you two are bunking together now?”
“Dad!” Luke choked out which made everyone laugh at his bright red cheeks and ears.
“Don’t worry,” Your dad added, “We all knew this was coming. Your mothers started planning your wedding back in grade ten.”
You groaned and hid your face in Luke’s shoulder while he muttered, “We should’ve eloped.”
The door bursted open yet again and Luke’s brothers came storming out, both already shirtless and halfway through their beers.
“Look who finally figured it out!” Jack yelled, arms wide as he pulled you into a hug.
Quinn fist bumped Luke and then pulled you into a hug, “Happy for you guys.”
“Seriously,” Jack grinned, “The entire family knew this was coming before you two did.”
You glanced at Luke, who was just standing there, hand in yours, cheeks still flushed, watching everyone welcome you like they always have, but now with a tinge of celebration. Because this has always been the hope. The quiet, patient maybe someday that lived in the hearts of everyone who watched the two of you grow up side by side.
By the time the sun was low on the lake and dinner’s sizzling on the grill, you were barefoot on the back deck with a glass of lemonade in one hand and Luke’s fingers loosely twined through your other. Both families are mixed around the kitchen and patio, all joking, retelling old stories, stealing glances at the two of you that are so full of affection it almost knocked the air out of your lungs.
Later, when the stars came out and the lake smoothed over like glass, you and Luke sneaked away down to the dock. The same dock you’ve both jumped off a thousand times as kids. The same one where, last summer before the two of you moved to UMich, he nearly told you how he felt before backing out.
He sat beside you with an arm around your shoulders, the night humming soft and easy.
“Feels like this was always waiting,” He said quietly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You nodded while resting your head against him, “Feels like home.”
And from the porch behind the two of you, your parents and his, laughing over glasses of wine, watching the stars and admiring how the two of you sat on the dock together, they always knew the ending.
₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
The atmosphere is electric. The crowd’s energy is a living thing, a pulsing mass of anticipation, and you can hardly believe you're standing here. The sound of the crowd, the flashing lights, the energy in the arena, it’s all so much bigger than you imagined. It’s real, and you’re here for it. For Luke.
It’s his first game in the NHL, and you’ve never been more proud of him. The guy you’ve known since birth, who had always dreamed of this moment, was finally living it. You still couldn’t quite wrap your mind around it. Luke, in the big leagues even though Jack and Quinn were already in the NHL. It felt like only yesterday you were with him as he practiced on the ice in his backyard with Quinn and Jack, where they were dreaming of this exact moment.
Your heart beated faster as you glance around the arena of the Prudential Center, the excitement practically buzzing through the air. The rink is perfectly lit, the ice shining beneath the lights, the players skating in warm-ups as the crowd cheers, eager to see the first puck drop.
You spotted Luke on the ice, skating effortlessly, with his new red jersey rather than the maize coloured one that you grew used to. His number, forty-three, stood out proudly on his back. You couldn’t help but smile, a deep sense of pride swelling inside you.
“You okay?” Ellen asked you, giving you a nudge as she watched you watch him.
You blinked and laughed softly, still a little in awe of the scene, “Yeah, just trying to believe this is real.”
She grinned, “I bet, he looks like he’s in his element.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so focused,” You admitted with your eyes never leaving him. There’s something about seeing him out there, doing what he’s always loved, that makes you feel like your chest might burst with pride, “He’s been working his whole life for this.”
“I bet it’s a little surreal for you, huh? Seeing him in the NHL after everything you’ve been through?”
You glanced at her, trying to find the right words, but all you could do was nod. It is surreal. But there’s also something comforting about it. This is Luke. The same person who used to steal your snacks and drag you into late-night study sessions. Now he’s here, in the NHL, and he’s still your Luke.
Before you can say anything more, the arena erupted into cheers, signaling the start of the game. The lights dimmed, and the announcer’s voice rings through the speakers, introducing the teams. You stand at the edge of your seat, trying to steady your breathing as the players line up. Your stomach flips with nerves on his behalf.
“Number forty-three, Luuuuuke Hughes!” The announcer called out, and the roar of the crowd was deafening.
Your heart skipped a beat, your hands instinctively clasping together as you cheered with everyone else. Luke skated onto the ice, looking confident in his gear, but his eyes were searching the crowd. And when he found you, your heart stopped.
He gives you a small, almost imperceptible smile, his eyes locking with yours across the rink. In that instant, the whole arena fades away, and it’s just the two of you. He’s here, doing what he loves, and you’re here, cheering him on like you always promised you would.
You couldn’t help the overwhelming wave of emotion that crashed over you. This is his dream, and you’re living it with him.
The game begins, and the action is intense. The sound of skates carving across the ice, the thud of sticks on the puck, the roar of the crowd, it’s all part of the symphony of professional hockey, and you’re right in the middle of it. The energy in the arena is electric, and yet, you find yourself focused solely on Luke.
Every time he touches the puck, your heart sped up. Every time he makes a good play, you can’t help but cheer louder. And every time he glances over to where you’re sitting, a little smile creeping onto his face, you feel a warmth spread through your chest, a reminder that no matter how far he’s come, he’s still your Luke.
It’s nearing the third period, and the game is close. The tension could be cut with a knife, and you’re on the edge of your seat. The Devils are ahead by one goal, but the other team is pushing hard. You can see the sweat on his forehead as he skated up the ice, determination in his eyes. He’s everywhere on the rink, fast, sharp, and focused. He’s in his element, and it’s breathtaking.
And then, with a swift pass, the puck lands right on Luke’s stick. There’s a fraction of a second where everything feels suspended. Time slowed down, and all you could do was watch him. You knew he’s about to make something happen. You knew he’s about to score.
The crowd goes silent in that split second. Then, as if on cue, Luke releases the puck with a clean shot, sending it sailing past the goalie and into the back of the net. The arena exploded in cheers.
You jump out of your seat, your hands clapping and your throat screaming with excitement. The announcer’s voice echoes through the speakers, “Goal by number forty-three, Luke Hughes!”
You watched as Luke skated back to his teammates, his eyes searching for you again. When he sees you, he gives a small wave, his smile widening. It’s like he’s found you in the chaos of the game, and that makes your heart swelled with happiness.
The game ended with the New Jersey Devils winning, and the crowd was on their feet, applauding the team’s victory. You feel like you’re floating, the adrenaline from the game mixing with the joy of seeing Luke’s hard work come to life.
After the game, you managed to get down to the lower level, waiting for him just outside the locker room. You’re still buzzing with excitement when the door swings open, and there he was sweaty, tired, and but grinning from ear to ear.
He spotted you almost immediately and, ignoring the stream of reporters and fans, made his way toward you.
“You were amazing,” You breathed out, your voice catching in your throat as you took him in.
“Couldn’t have done it without you here,” He told you as he pulled you into a hug, his arms strong around you as he lifted you off the ground in a moment of pure joy, “You know how much this means to me, right?”
You nodded against his chest, not trusting yourself to speak for a moment. His success was your success. This victory isn’t just his, it was yours too. The years of support, the quiet moments, the late-night phone calls. You had been with him every step of the way, and now, you get to see him standing here, living his dream.
Finally, you pulled back to look at him, grinning up at him through happy tears. “I’m so proud of you.”
Luke’s eyes softened, and he brushed a strand of hair out of your face, “You’ve always believed in me.”
“Of course I have,” You said with your voice thick with emotion, “And I always will.”
He leaned down, kissing you softly, the taste of victory still fresh on his lips. In this moment, with the roar of the crowd still echoing in your ears and the world around you seemingly quiet, this was exactly what you waited for in life and Luke Hughes was yours truly.
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader
summary: in which you and your best friends brother accidentally eat aphrodisiac chocolate OR you and oscar get so fucking horny while on a yacht in the Maldives.
warnings: smut smut smut, all smut basically. oral, p in v, dirty talk, language, marking kink, slight voyeruism, exhibitionism??, not sure what else...NOT PROOFREAD! (might be some typos)
word count: ~3.9k
author's note: SURPRISEEEE ITS OUT EARLY (I worked hard over the weekend lol) hope you guys enjoy!! THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR OSCAR EVERRRR (aside from a one shot i've had sitting in my drafts for months lol) comment and let me know what you think!!! xoxo
ln4 cl16 mv1 op81
◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤
You’ve always had a sweet tooth.
Everyone knew it. Oscar especially. He used to tease you over it when you were younger. Would point out when your fingers were sticky with something sugary.
He never said it unkindly. Just amused. Soft. Something like you’ve got chocolate on your face and then passed you a napkin you didn’t ask for.
He’s always been like that. Gentle. Kind. The boy who was never loud. More of a listener than a speaker.
And he never made you feel silly. Not when you cried after falling off your bike and scraped your knee. Not when your towel slipped. Not even when you accidentally spilled juice all over your shirt on a long flight. He just handed you a new one from his backpack like he knew it’d happen.
You’d grown up like that.
And now here you were, years later. Sunburned and salty on a private yacht in the Maldives, still with a sweet tooth and one of his old McLaren shirts he gave you when he first got signed. Pulled over your bikini.
His sister, your best friend, left on in the morning for a tour with the rest of the group. Something about history and snorkeling. You’d both waved your hands declining. Something about being too burned and too sleepy for it.
“She’s going to get bored halfway through,” You sip on your drink. “Probably will call us in two hours.”
Oscar gives you a shrug. “I give her one.”
“She said it was a once in a lifetime experience.” You throw up your hands while repeating her words. Mocking her almost. Smiling.
“So is sitting here.”
And you laugh.
He’s sitting across from you, towel slung around the back of his neck, sun catching his shoulders. His hair is damp. Skin flushed from the sun. No shirt. Just a pair of swim shorts and bare feet.
You shift slightly where you are. Curled up in the shade. Bare legs stretched out. The oversized shirt clinging to you just a little too much where your bikini top was wet.
He glances at you when you move. Doesn’t speak. Just tracks it with his eyes. And looks away again.
His hand reaches for the table. “What’s this?”
You look over.
A little box. Dark. Red ribbon wrapped around it.
“Some welcome thing, I think.” You shrug. “Dropped it off yesterday.”
Oscar pulls the lid open, brows lifting. He picks up a wrapped square, amused.
“Well, well.” He says, looking at you. “Your kryptonite.”
You grin. “Shut up.”
“You gonna pretend you didn’t spot this the second we sat down?”
“I did not.”
He tilts his head, giving you a look.
“Mm, you’ve got that look.” He says.
“What look?”
“The one you used to get before stealing cupcakes at birthday parties.”
You roll your eyes, but blush. Cheeks reddening. “I did not steal…”
“You did.” He cuts you off. Already unwrapping one of the chocolates. “Always had sugar on your hands. Icing on the corner of your lips.”
You open your mouth to protest, but he tosses a piece toward you.
You catch it.
You watch him bring the chocolate to his mouth, tongue darting over his lip without thinking.
Peel open your piece and press it to your tongue. It melts fast. Rich.
You hum, licking a smear of it off your finger. “That’s actually really good.”
He doesn’t respond right away.
You glance up and catch him mid-swipe across his bottom lip. Looking dazed. Distracted.
Then he blinks, clears his throat. And nods. “Yeah, pretty good.”
He closes the lid of the box, slides it to the side. Then leans back, looking at the water.
And you sit there with him. Across from him on the cushioned benches. Chewing slowly. Feeling that heat bloom beneath your skin.
It’s soft at first.
Then deeper.
A warmth in your chest. A pulse between your thighs.
The wind sweeps your skin. And the fabric of your bikini suddenly feels too damp. Too thin. Too tight.
You swallow. Trying not to fidget.
Oscar hasn’t moved much. His gaze is still on the ocean, but it isn’t really. And you watch the way his jaw flexes. The way his foot shifts on the deck. Like he was grounding himself.
He doesn’t look at you.
And he always looks at you.
You shift again. Cross your ankles. Press your thighs together.
You glance at Oscar again.
And his lips are parted. Just a little bit. And his brow is slightly furrowed.
You sit up slightly. “You okay?”
He shifts. Then clears his throat, blinking. “Yeah. Just…hot.”
You nod slowly. “Same.”
He leans forward, breathes out. But his fingers twitch. And you notice as his back muscles roll slightly as he drops his head down, towel slipping down.
He stays like that for a few seconds. Then rubs a hand over the back of his neck.
His voice is quiet. Flat. “What was in that chocolate?”
You don’t answer right away. Because you’re fucking throbbing now. And your bikini is definitely soaked.
“Do you feel…” He swallows, throat bobbing. “Strange?”
You nod. And then remember he isn’t even looking at you. “Yeah.”
His jaw clenches.
He shifts again. Still not looking at you. And that’s how you know something is wrong.
Because he never acts like this.
You’ve seen him flustered, sure. After a race, dealing with the media, around too many people. But never like this. Not this tense. As if he’s afraid.
“I didn’t think chocolate could….fuck.” His voice cracks. And he laughs under his breath.
He grips the bench. Looking like he’s in pain.
“I think I need to go inside.”
And he stands too fast. Towel falling down. Hands clenched at his sides as he turns on bare feet and walks toward the main cabin.
You stare at his back. His shoulders. And he disappears down the stairs.
You’re so hot that you could cry. Unbearable.
You press your palm flat to your stomach. Like it’ll help.
But it doesn’t.
Because it’s not just the chocolate.
It’s him. Oscar.
Gone for less than a minute and his voice is the only thing in your head. The way his mouth looked when he licked the chocolate off his thumb. His hands. The muscles of his back straining as he leaned forward
The silence stretches heavy.
You make a quiet sound in your throat. Barely audible. And you can’t sit still. Can barely think. Can’t stop seeing him.
Your hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt. You’re hesitant at first. But then trail your fingers to the center of your ache.
And your hips lift off the cushion. A heavy breath escaping.
Your other hand grips the bench as you rock slowly against your own fingers. Over the bikini. Slow circles. Each one, pressing harder.
You let your head fall back. And the sky above is almost blinding.
“Oscar…”
You don’t even realize you said it out loud. It just slips.
And a few moments later, you don’t even hear him come back. Your fingers still at your bikini. Rubbing.
You lift your head. He’s there.
Flushed. Hair ruffled like he ran his fingers through it a million times. Eyes fixed between your legs like he’s in some sort of trance.
He just stares. Doesn’t even speak.
“I can’t stop,” You whisper. Honest.
“You’re…” He blinks. Voice low. Stunned. Like he just walked into his favorite fantasy and doesn’t know what to do. “You’re fucking touching yourself?”
You nod. And he groans.
“To me?”
“Couldn’t stop thinking about you,” You whisper.
“Jesus.” His hands twitch at his sides.
You shift, spreading your legs a little wider without meaning to. Unable to stop rubbing the tight circles.
“You look so pretty like that,” He mutters.
You tremble. “I need help.”
And his eyes widen.
“Please,” you whisper. “I can’t…Osc, please.”
He groans. Hands dropping to the front of his swim shorts, palming the hard line of his cock through the fabric.
“Come closer.” You plead.
And he stares at you with wide eyes. Flushed. He doesn’t move. At least, he doesn’t at first.
But then his gaze drops back down to your legs. Spread open. Your fingers rubbing slow, desperate circles. And his hands twitch.
“I…” He says, but he’s already squeezing himself. “I shouldn’t.”
“Oscar…”
“I shouldn’t be seeing this,” his mutters. “And I shouldn’t be this fucking hard.”
Your eyes fall to where his hand squeezes against his cock. Like he’s trying to fight the ache between his legs.
And you whimper. Hips jerking. “I can’t. I need….I need help.”
His hand squeezes himself tighter.
“Fuck.” A pause. A few silent moments of heated stares. “Do you know how many times I used to think about this?”
His voice has gone rough. And you blink at him. Heart stuttering.
“I used to jerk off in my room and feel sick after,” He whispers. “Because it was you. My sister’s best friend. Always walking around in those tiny shorts. That blue bikini. Always so fucking sweet.”
Your fingers slow. Jaw falls slack.
“I’ve thought about it,” His voice shakes. “Fuck. I’ve thought about this. When we were younger.”
Your breath hitches.
“Thought about your pussy more than I should’ve.” He mutters. “Wondered how soft you’d feel. How tight. If you’d let me take my time or if you’d beg me to fuck you rough.”
Your back arches.
“Wondered what you’d sound like when you come.” He continues. “If it’s all breathy. Or if you’d cry. If you’d say my name.”
“I’d press the pillow over my face after so no one would hear me,” He admits. “Every time.”
You gasp.
“I would.” You gasp.
His hand pushes harder into his cock. Groaning. “I’ve thought about fucking you with my tongue. Holding your legs and licking you for hours.”
You press your fingers even harder.
You whimper, other hand reading for a pillow or something to grab onto. “Osc, please.”
“You want my fingers?” He whispers. “Right here? Want me to fuck you with my hand?”
You nod. Repeatedly. Fast. Almost pathetic.
Oscar lets out a whimper. And then he’s kneeling in front of you before you can blink. Hand still pressing into his cock. The other trembling as his fingers brush your thigh.
“You’re so warm.”
Your hand falls away and he replaces it instantly. Pressing two fingers against the soaked fabric. Groans loudly when he feels it.
“Fuck, pretty…” He groans. “You’re soaked. Fuckin’ dripping.”
And then he pushes the fabric aside, stares. Pupils blown. “God, look at you…"
You shake your head. “Please.”
“I’ve thought about sliding my fingers into you since I was seventeen,” He pushes them in. Half-laughing. “Thought about curling them deep and slow….hearing you moan just like that.”
Oscar swears under his breath, leaning closer. Jaw locked tight. “I’d keep you like this for hours if I could. Legs spread and needy….mine to play with.”
You cry out. Rocking your hips.
And he curls his fingers. Watching your face.
“Yeah?” His thumb circles your clit now. Slow. “Right there? Knew I’d find it.”
And you careen forward. Hands flying to grab his shoulders.
“Come for me,” He mutters. “Right here. In my fucking shirt. On my yacht. On my fingers.”
And you do.
Hard.
And he watches every second. His lips parted. Cock throbbing.
And then he drags his fingers out of you slow.
Brings them to his mouth.
Licks them clean. Eyes locked on yours.
“Taste better than I ever dreamed,” He says softly.
And then he’s grabbing the back of your neck. Pulling your lips to his. Kissing you like he’s starving.
His tongue licks your mouth like its his. Like he already knows how to pull those sounds out of you and wants to hear every single one.
And his hands slip down your body. Down your shoulders, over your ribs. Brushing the dip of your waist. Until he’s gripping your thighs.
“Wanna see bruises here,” He says. “Want people to see bruises and know.”
He stays kneeling between you, chest heaving.
“You’re soaking, baby.” His voice cracks.
He leans forward. Kissing your inner thigh. And then opens his mouth, sucking hard. Pulling a moan from you.
You feel the bruise forming as he licks over it. Sucks it again. Fingers pressing into your skin, gripping it.
“That’s one,” He mutters.
He leaves another one. Higher.
Then a third on the other leg. Right by your cunt. So close that it makes your hips jerk into his mouth.
And then he’s standing. Grabbing you under your thighs. And lifts you.
Laying you down on the table. The welcome basket crashes onto the deck with a thud, but neither of you acknowledge it. The box of chocolates dangling on the edge.
He grabs it.
“What are you doing?” You ask. Breathless.
He doesn’t answer. Opens the box, takes out a single piece and holds it up. Gaze dropping down to your cunt spread open for him.
“Need to taste you with this,” He mutters.
He leans over you. Pressing the chocolate between your lips. “Bite.”
You do.
The sun’s hot against your skin.
And then he kisses you hard. Tongue lapping against yours, sharing the chocolate. You both moan and groan into each other before he’s dropping back to his knees.
“Look at you,” He breathes. “All messy. Want my mouth, baby?”
You nod.
And he leans in. Licks you.
One long drag up your slit.
You cry out. And he groans into your cunt. Licking you. Tasting you.
“Fuckin heaven.” He drags a hand to your leg. “Can’t believe I waited this long.”
“Oscar…”
He doesn’t stop. Just hooks his arm under your thigh, and pulls you closer to the edge. Legs over his shoulder.
And buries his face in your pussy.
You grind into him instantly. Chasing every flick of his tongue.
Your hands fist into his hair, dragging his face closer against you. And he moans. Wrecked.
“Fuck,” you yell. “Oscar…oh my…fuck.”
He drags his tongue through you. Flicking your clit over and over.
“Keep fucking my face,” his voice is hot.
“You sound…my God..Oscar, you sound obsessed..”
“I am.” He grunts. Fingers curling in you as he nudges your clit with his nose.
And then he pulls one arm away. You barely notice it. Until you hear it and look down.
He’s got his hand wrapped around his cock, fisting it fast. Leaking.
He jerks his cock faster. Hips twitching into his own fist as his mouth works harder against you.
“Gonna come,” he confesses. “Gonna come from tasting you.”
You cry out.
“C’mon…” He urges. “Let me taste it, yeah?”
And it breaks you.
You moan into the open sky. Grinding against his face. Jaw slack. Eyes squeezed shut.
And then he groans, standing up and comes hard onto your cunt.
Hot, messy ropes of it. Spilling over you.
And then he’s dragging you off the table without a word. Not giving you time to even breathe. Panting.
His hands tight around you, and then he’s spinning you. Forcing you to face the ocean. Chest hitting the metal railing.
And he’s behind you. Silent.
You start to turn your head, “Oscar…?”
“No.” He says. Voice rough. “Stay just like that.”
His hands drag your shirt up. Slow.
His name in bold letters stretched across your back.
He groans. Violently.
“I should’ve fucked you in this years ago.”
Your breath falters.
“Fucking knew it,” He grabs a fistful of the shirt, twisting his hand in it. “Knew one day you’d bend over in this and I’d lose my fucking mind.”
You feel the heat of his body behind you, shoving your bottoms down with one swift flick of his hand. Cock thick and heavy. Dragging through your folds, collecting his come and your wetness.
He groans. You shake.
He presses forward, hips rocking against you. Grinding into your thighs.
“You’ve no idea what you look like.” His breath is heavy behind you. “Bent over. My name on your back. Come still dropping down your cunt.”
And you bite your lip. Arching into him harder.
One hand grips your hip, the other fisted around the shirt.
“You wore this shirt for years like it meant nothing,” His voice quieter. Mean. “Didn’t think about what it did to me every time you wore it.”
“Osc…” You attempt to say his name, but he shifts his hips into you harder and your voice cracks.
He laughs.
“Now look at you. Dripping all over me. Wearing my name like you belong to me.”
He sinks in slow. So slow that you feel every pulse. Every ridge.
And you whimper. He groans behind you. Like he’s in pain. Like he’s trying so hard to not ravish you.
But when his hips meet you, and he’s bottomed out. He just….stops.
Breathes in heavily.
“Fuck.” He says soft. “You’re so fucking tight around me.”
His fingers dig into your hip even harder. Bruising. Marking.
“You’ve ruined me,” He laughs. “Y’know that?”
And you don’t even get a chance to answer.
Because he pulls back and slams into you. Hard.
You cry out, hands gripping the railing that your knuckles turn white.
His pace isn’t gentle at all. It’s feral.
“Fucking ruined me,” He says again. “You in this shirt….you in my fucking name..do you even know what that does to me?”
You moan. So loud. And his hips smack into you. Over and over.
“You’ve been walkin’ around in it for years.” He spits. “Like it’s nothing.”
He thrusts deep, angling his hips at a better angle. “Like I haven’t been dreaming of fucking you in it since I gave it to you all those years ago.”
You’re babbling now. Unable to breathe properly. Your entire body trembling.
His hand slips from your hip and slides up your spine. He grabs the back of your neck and pushes you down. Just a little bit harder. Forces you to arch even more.
And fuck, he nearly collapses when he feels you clench tighter around him.
“You should see yourself,” He grunts. “Squeezing around me like you’re desperate to never let me go.”
And he’s lost all rhythm. He’s just slamming into you. Cock so deep.
“Can’t believe this is real.” He’s panting. “Can’t believe I get to fuck you in my shirt. Pussy covered in me.”
Your orgasm is close. And you’re shouting. Moaning.
"Bet she'd lose her mind if she knew what a slut you were f'me..."
You cry out. He feels you teetering on the edge.
“Don’t.” He snaps.
And you cry, “Oscar…please.”
“You’re gonna wait.” He demands, fucking into you more rapidly.
And he’s losing his mind. It’s sooo good.
“Say who’s inside you.” His hands squeeze the back of your neck. “Say it.”
You gasp. Jaw falling slack. Chest pressed harsh into the metal railing. “You…Osc..fuck, it’s so good..”
You sob out his name and Oscar fucking snaps.
“That’s it, baby.”
His hips hit you faster. Deeper. The filthy sound of it heard over the waves lapping the hull.
You sob into the railing.
He leans into you, head falling forward.
“Gonna come,” He chokes out. “Gonna come right inside you. Stuff you full. Let it leak out.”
And you break.
Orgasm ripping through you. Violent and hot. Back arching so hard into him. You sob out his name. Your walls clenching around him in a tight grip.
And he crashes with you. Body shuddering. Cock throbbing. Spilling into you.
He’s still panting against you when he pulls out. And it’s a fucking mess in between your thighs.
But before you can say anything, he’s dragging you upright. And you’re stumbling as he drags you across the hot deck. Hand across your stomach. Keeping you close.
And then he’s shoving you into the rinse off shower.
He reaches up. Turns the handle. And the water is so cold that you gasp from it.
Oscar laughs behind you. “Too cold?”
Your head falls onto his shoulder. “Asshole.”
And then he turns the temperature warmer, and then it’s all steam and heat again.
You expect him to rinse you off gently.
Instead, he grabs the shower head. Detaches it from the hook. And pulls your back against his chest.
“Gonna clean you up.”
You’re about to ask what exactly he means. But then he;;s nudging your legs apart. Brings the shower head straight to your cunt.
And you jolt forward with a sharp cry.
The heat. The pressure.
“Oh my god…Osc,” You’re mumbling.
And he watches you. Holding one leg to keep them apart.
“Stay open,” his voice is soft. “Wanna see you come again.”
And you whimper. Begging. “Too much…fuck.”
But he doesn’t stop. Just tilts the shower head just right. Hitting your clit.
“Thought I’d have to work harder for this,” He mutters. “But you’re soaking already.”
“Fuck…fuck.”
"Y'like this, hm?" He whispers into your ear. "Being used like some filthy secret?"
Your hands reach behind you and slip their way into his hair. Pulling it. He groans. Rutting his hips into your backside for some friction.
“C’mon, pretty.” He grunts.
And the water just keeps hitting you.
You sob. And then crash again.
Your legs shake. Cunt clenching around nothing. But he holds you up, turning you to face him. Pressing your back against the wall.
He finally sets the shower head down. Lets it spray onto the deck.
And then his hands are back on you. One at your lower back, one gripping your thigh, pulling it up to wrap at his waist. You balance on one leg.
He presses a kiss to your temple. “Y’okay?” His voice gentle. Caring.
And you nod, pressing your head into his neck. And his heart stutters when you lean into him. Like he can finally breathe.
“I’ve got you,” He whispers.
And then, he sinks back into you.
Slow. Gentle.
Your mouth falls open. The stretch still almost unbearable after everything. But the way he slides in, feels too fucking good.
You gasp. Digging your nails into his skin. And he cradles you against the wall.
He moves slow. Rocking. No rhythm. And he feels massive. Thick.
“Oscar,” You hush into his skin. “You feel…Y’feel so good.”
He nods. “I know, baby. I know.” And his voice is a whisper.
He grinds deeper. Barely moving but pressing into you. “Can’t believe you’re still this wet…” He grunts. “Still want more? Want me to stuff you full again, hm? Fuck you til it leaks down?”
You nod. Mouth open. Moaning.
“C’mon,” He pants. Hips jerking. Cock throbbing.
It’s quick. The feel of you wrapped around his cock. The overstimulation of the stretch.
You both come quick. Crying out into each other’s skin. Soft kisses in between the moans.
And then you’re both laughing. Smiling at one another.
-
“Holy shit…I’m dying.” Your best friend announces. “Never let me go on another tour ever ever again.”
Oscar snorts from beside you on the bench, looking at his phone. “Told you you’d hate it.”
“You didn’t say I’d almost drown.”
You keep your face still. Sipping your drink.
And she plops down on the lounger across the deck, sighing.
And for a moment…it’s quiet.
Until Oscar leans in slightly, elbow brushing your arm.
His voice low. “Y’think she noticed?”
You glance at him. Shake your head.
“She’s never been less observant,” You whisper back.
And he grins. One of those fuck-you grins that makes you stutter.
And you hold back a smile.
Your best friend groans across the deck. “God, I feel disgusting. Should we order dinner in an hour?”
Oscar clears his throat. “Sure.”
“Yeah,” You say.
And then you lean, just slightly, into his side. Just enough that his thigh is touching yours again.
He doesn’t move. And he doesn’t stop smiling.
"Hey, what happened to the welcome basket?"
Oops?
taglist (holy shit SO MANY OF YOU ILY): @landoscarinthefastlane @dudenhaaa27 @330bpm-whiplash @xoln04f1xo @sainzluvrr @minjiahyung @madicecream123 @star73807-blog @simpfortoomanymen @art-h1ve @annaswrites00 @forumlabee @butterfly-daisies07 @nothereneverherever @widow-cevans @suns3treading @fmejenson @megatrilss1885 @10iceicebaby @sh1nedreamsm1le7 @ptrickbateman @chasingosc @uuoozzii @idkwtdwml123 @pinkdeadtopia @chiara8104 @ellie-bellie-29 @piastri-my-boy @1-of-my-many-obsessions @8junejpg1 @jaydensluv @astrlape @idontknow0704 @whistlef0rthechoir @op814kitty @asmoothoperator @illicit-affcirs @lilith-123321 @teddybearbeth @saudianna @skylyn-vais @fleurdangz @angxedxtz @marekmybeloved @liafics @dxrlxb @gabyasworld @treebranch23 @drysdalesv @morganalatina21 @bigcatharmony @ilovemuppets @acina27 @angelabunbun @megatrilss1885 @ilikecarsalotsometimes @roxanne-ragnvindr @euphoriapillz @luminouskalopsia @trinity2058 @livsturnioloo @wdsara48 @ini3103 @shimmermotorsport @marslovesran4eva @wherethezoes-at @monsterdesandia @mythicalmaven @3in1shampooconditionerbodywash @ella284-3 @landossainz @redcrescentmoons @jaeger-chan @altaccount283927 @ericasdumbworld @aerie717 @the0twst0shrimp0mc @ysavelelelel @phillza-my-beloved @thenalovescars @zicosbitch @scaroscar8115 @wertyuizxcvbnm @needy02 @dessashippr @quill-vy @o6hellnah @enchantedwaspwhisper @awesome-fandom-panda @biancathecool @lilorose25 @wowzees (not sure if all these worked but I took them straight from my comments on the sneak peak)
hmm Max x leclerc!reader who maybe has had a crush on him since the inchident days and they’re rly cute together
Something Like a Crush
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader
Summary: Twelve years after the infamous 'inchident', you’re still trying (and failing) to pretend you don’t have a crush on Max Verstappen.
2.4k words / Masterlist
You were ten years old when you first saw him roll his eyes on camera.
Max Verstappen, just fourteen at the time, sitting beside your brother in that now-infamous press conference after “the inchident.” He looked small at the table, short legs barely brushing the floor, arms crossed too tightly over his chest, but his expression was all sharp defiance and unfiltered frustration. His hair was messy, his cheeks still a little round with childhood, but his eyes? His eyes were furious.
Charles had been irritated too, he always was when someone dared to challenge him on track, especially during those high-stakes junior karting weekends. But where your brother was learning to smooth the edges, to answer with careful diplomacy, Max hadn’t figured out how to bite his tongue yet.
He spoke with his whole body, fidgeting in his seat, hands moving wildly as he gestured through his explanation if it could be called that. More like a defence. A barely-contained storm. He interrupted. He scoffed. He looked like he wanted to launch himself out of the chair and straight back into the kart just to prove a point.
And you? You were completely, hopelessly captivated.
Not that you understood what it all meant at ten years old, but you watched every race, every replay, every interview that came after, and that press conference had something different. Something that made your skin prickle with attention.
All you knew was that this Dutch boy with the sharp voice and restless hands had the exact same look on his face your brother got when someone touched his kart without asking. That fierce, simmering expression that meant: This is mine. Don’t mess with it.
You liked that. A lot.
You didn’t even know the weight of his name then, not really. Just Max, muttered under Charles’s breath when he was in a bad mood. “Max this” and “Max that” and “bloody Verstappen.”
You were too young to call it a crush, but years later when you did understand what it meant to feel butterflies, when you found yourself staring a little too long across the paddock, you’d trace the feeling back to that grainy video, to the boy with fire in his chest and rage in his hands, defending himself against your brother like he had nothing to lose.
You’d watched that press conference more times than you’d ever admit.
And maybe, in a way that only ten-year-old girls with scraped knees and delusions of future karting glory can, you’d decided then and there that Max Verstappen was yours.
You’d only met him in passing back then. Dragged along to circuits while Charles went off to race. But one moment stuck in your memory, warm and a little fuzzy at the edges, like something pulled out of an old scrapbook.
You’d been in Spain, if you remembered right. One of those endless karting weekends that all blurred together, heat shimmering off the track, the smell of petrol and tire rubber, your mother fussing with your sunhat, Charles already stomping away helmet in hand.
You’d wandered toward the drivers' area, trailing a melting ice cream, and found Max sitting alone on a stack of tires behind one of the garages, elbows on his knees, brows furrowed in concentration as he picked at a busted glove.
You recognised him immediately, though you pretended not to.
He looked up as you approached and you stopped a few feet away, unsure if you were allowed to be there.
“Your brother’s mad at me,” he said, without preamble.
You blinked, surprised he even knew who you were. “He’s always mad at someone.”
Max grinned at that, a quick flash of teeth. “Usually me.”
There was a beat of quiet. You shifted your weight, suddenly aware of the ice cream dripping down your wrist.
“Want some?” you offered, a little shy. “It’s strawberry.”
He eyed it like you’d handed him a ticking bomb. “It’s pink.”
“So?”
“I don’t eat pink things.”
You frowned. “That’s stupid.”
He laughed then, really laughed and took the cone from you anyway, wiping the side with the edge of his sleeve before taking a bite. You watched him swallow like he was trying to decide if this had been a mistake.
“It’s not bad,” he admitted eventually.
“Told you.”
He handed it back without looking at you, but his smile lingered. “You’re cool.”
You’d gone red to your ears. You remembered that part especially well.
It wasn’t a long interaction. A few minutes, maybe. But it had been the first time you saw him not as Max Verstappen, the boy your brother fought with, but as just Max. A kid. A little proud. A little weird. Surprisingly sweet.
And maybe that was the worst part, how vividly it stayed with you. How that one stupid, sticky, sunburnt afternoon lived rent-free in your memory even now.
Sometimes you wondered if he remembered it too. Sometimes you hoped he didn’t, because that would mean he’d seen your flushed cheeks, your clumsy hands, your starry-eyed crush forming in real time.
And you’d never quite shaken it. Not even now. Not even when Max Verstappen stood across the paddock, a four-time world champion in Red Bull colours, watching you with a smirk like he already knew every single thing you were trying not to feel.
Twelve years later, yours had turned into something far more inconvenient. What had started as a childhood fascination, an innocent, fleeting curiosity about the boy with too much fire in his chest had rooted itself somewhere deeper.
You were no longer the little sister trailing behind Charles in the paddock, clutching your pass with sticky fingers and swinging your legs under folding chairs during debriefs. You didn’t just belong in the paddock anymore.
You were paddock royalty in your own right.
F2 Champion. The youngest in years. Newly announced reserve driver for Ferrari. The slightly younger, slightly less temperamental Leclerc sibling, still smiling for the cameras, still fluent in three languages, still polished enough to carry the family name, but fierce enough to make it your own.
People didn’t just ask about your brother anymore. They asked about you.
And yet, somehow despite all of it you were still, hopelessly, a little bit in love with Max Verstappen.
Which was a problem. A very stupid, very complicated, Charles-shaped problem.
Not that you’d ever admit it out loud. Especially not with your brother still lurking in every corner of the paddock, always watching, always listening, still very capable of murder.
He had threatened Max once. Not outright. Not in a way that would ever make it into the press. Just a quiet, offhand comment delivered over a shared drink in the lounge after a chaotic sprint race in Austria.
“Don’t even think about it, I'll break your wrist.” Charles had said, calm as anything, not even looking up from his phone.
Max, to his credit, had just laughed, but you’d been there. You’d heard the edge in Charles’s voice. You’d seen the way Max’s smile twitched, like he knew exactly what was being said and exactly what would happen if he pushed it.
You remembered it very clearly.
Apparently, so did Max, because even now, years later, there was something deliberate about the way he looked at you. The way his gaze slid sideways instead of head-on. The way his jokes stopped just short of flirtation. Like he was holding himself back, not because he didn’t want to say the words, but because he didn’t trust the consequences if he did.
You weren’t sure if it made you want to strangle him or kiss him.
Sometimes both.
And the worst part? You didn’t know if the tension between you was real or just a shared, unspoken game that neither of you had the guts to end.
Because despite all the wins, the interviews, the champagne, you were still the girl who once gave him her half-eaten ice cream behind the garages in Spain. And he was still the boy who made your heart stutter when he smiled like he knew every version of you that had ever existed.
You stood at the edge of the hospitality suite now, your eyes flicking again to the Red Bull garage across the way. Max leaned against the wall like he hadn’t a care in the world, race suit unzipped to his waist, white fireproof clinging to him in a way that made your brain short-circuit.
He laughed at something his race engineer said, and your chest squeezed tight.
Beside you, Carlos didn’t even bother looking up from his phone. “You’re staring.”
You scoffed. “I’m not.”
“You’ve been staring at him since we walked in,” he muttered. “Since... 2011 really.”
You elbowed him, cheeks hot. “Shut up.”
Carlos grinned. “One of these days, you’re gonna have to do something about it. Preferably when Charles is in another time zone.”
“I don’t have a thing to do something about.”
“Mmhmm.”
You didn’t dignify that with a response, but your eyes still flicked back toward the garage, like they had a mind of their own. And of course that’s when Max looked up. Of course.
His gaze caught yours. Held it.
Your stomach dropped.
He didn’t look away. Didn’t pretend he hadn’t seen you watching. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, like he was amused and gave you a lazy, knowing half-smile that made your breath catch.
Damn it.
“He’s walking over,” Carlos said, not even pretending to hide his amusement.
Your heart stuttered. “What?”
Carlos stood abruptly, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Should I give you two some privacy? Or just text Charles now and save everyone the trouble?”
“I swear to God—”
But it was too late. You turned and Max was already close, just a few feet away, walking like he had all the time in the world, like he didn’t also look unfairly good under fluorescent lighting.
He smiled at you and Carlos, easy and warm, but his eyes lingered on you a second too long.
“Afternoon, Leclerc” he greeted smoothly, voice low and a little smug. “What are we talking about?”
“Nothing,” you blurted too fast.
Carlos grinned. “Her crush.”
You were going to kill him.
Max raised a brow. “Oh yeah?”
You shot Carlos a glare so deadly he actually stood up, clearly deciding to spare himself. “I’ll leave you two,” he said casually. “Good luck with the… crush.”
You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.
Max turned back to you slowly, arms folding across his chest, amusement dancing in his eyes. “So…”
You crossed your arms. “He’s an idiot.”
“Maybe,” Max agreed, then paused. “Is it true?”
You blinked. “Is what true?”
He tilted his head. “That you have a crush.”
“I—” You swallowed. “That depends.”
Max’s eyes twinkled. “On what?”
You tried to keep your voice steady. “Are you going to make fun of me?”
He stepped closer, just enough to make your breath catch. “Of course not”
There was a beat of silence. Your heart was doing gymnastics.
“Then maybe,” you said softly, voice barely above the noise of the paddock, eyes locked with his. “Maybe it’s true.”
His lips parted slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to say it. Not really. You watched something flicker behind his eyes, surprise, maybe.
He didn’t speak right away just studied your face like he was trying to memorise it. Then, finally.
“You know Charles threatened to kill me once,” he murmured. “Told me not to look at you for more than five seconds at a time.”
You laughed nervously. “I remember.”
“I think I timed myself for a year after that,” he said with a soft smile. “Four seconds, look away. Four seconds, look away.”
You stared at him. “Seriously?”
His smile faded just a little, the teasing slipping from his features until only something soft remained, something honest. His eyes gentled, tone dropping into something more careful. “I’ve liked you since before I knew how to handle it. Since before it was allowed to be anything.”
Your breath caught.
He looked away briefly, then back at you, and there was something achingly sincere in the way he said it. “And then you started racing. Kicking ass. Winning everything. Being smarter than half the grid and not even pretending to downplay it. And you grew up, and I started seeing you for you, and then it was just…” He shook his head with a helpless little shrug. “Game over.”
For a second, you forgot how to breathe.
Your mouth opened. Closed. Your voice was quiet, uneven. “Seriously?”
Max nodded, almost shy now. “Inchident days.”
You blinked, dazed. “I was like… ten.”
“And you were already cooler than me,” he said, eyes crinkling a little, like it was obvious. Like it had always been obvious.
You laughed, sudden and bright, because what else could you do when the ground was shifting under your feet?
But it was short-lived, because your chest was suddenly too tight, your thoughts tripping over themselves, years of doubt trying to catch up to reality.
“I thought I was imagining it,” you admitted, and your voice cracked, just slightly. “I’ve felt like the idiot for so long, like it was just me stuck in some schoolgirl fantasy I never grew out of. You’d look at me and I’d feel it and then you’d blink and it was gone, and I’d spend hours convincing myself I made it all up.”
Max’s expression softened even further, and he stepped closer not enough to touch, not yet, but enough that you could feel the heat of him.
“It wasn’t just you,” he said again, firmer this time. “It was never just you.”
It felt like a mirage. Like something your brain had conjured in the haze of too many years and too many unspoken moments. You half expected it to vanish if you reached for it.
But it didn’t. Because Max was still looking at you like that with the quiet weight of someone who’d been holding this just as tightly, just as secretly, all this time. Your heart couldn’t tell the difference between disbelief and something dangerously close to joy.
He nodded. “Been wanting to ask for years, I think I've finally realised I’d rather risk getting punched in the face than keep pretending I don’t feel what I feel every time I look at you."
Your heart twisted, painfully fond.
“Okay,” you said, heart hammering. “So what now?”
Max shrugged. “Now I ask if maybe, hypothetically, you’d want to grab a drink. Or a walk. Or maybe let me kiss you in a place where your brother definitely can’t see us.”
play me like a deck -- if you call, i'll fold [mb.12]
pairing: matt boldy x hughes cousin! reader
nickname: sunshine
word count: 19.1k
summary: You've always loved spending summers with your cousins. But since you were forbidden from dating Jack's "no-good" buddies, there's been one big problem -- a 6'2, Massachusettan problem. And since you have a problem, well, everyone else should too.
warnings: swearing, light making out, fakeout enemies and very real idiots to lovers, super nosy NTDP boys
author's note: Celebrating the beginning of summer by dropping my longest fic (to date) and beginning my first series! Welcome to Lake House Summers, friends. :D [P.S. This takes place over a rough timeline in '23. Throwback.]
Summer is, without a doubt, your favorite time of the year. Always has been. When you were younger, it would mean vacationing with Auntie Ellen, her husband Jim and their three sons – your beloved cousins – and being involved in the whirlwind that is the life of a Hughes.
As you got older, summer turned into vacations with friends and visiting the Hughes family in Michigan. And once the boys went pro, summertime was your one-way ticket to their lake house, where you had a room meant just for you. It was pretty heavenly.
Sure, you did a lot of the cooking for them especially during that first year and the decorations just screamed “man-house” despite your and Auntie Ellen’s best attempts to redecorate (or decorate at all). And yes, the house was overrun with hyperactive young men all the time since the Hughes’ college or developmental program friends visited. But you love the place.
And it’s undeniably fun, living on the lake for a month or so before retreating back to college or your parents’ home in Texas. So when your college graduation gift from the boys is the offer of an entire summer at the lake house, you don’t hesitate to pack your summer clothes and move.
This is your last summer before you face real adulthood. You’re the first of the cousins to graduate, and you’re pretty sure you will be the only one to complete college in person – Luke having recently signed with the Devils and all.
Quinn has the decency to warn you in advance that they’ll have a revolving door of friends this year, even if you expect it. And you can feel the excitement build as you drop your mom off at Auntie Ellen’s to make the last stretch of the drive all by yourself, like you’ve been doing since the lake house became a thing. By the time you pull the car into the driveway, you’re practically buzzing.
You don’t bother grabbing your suitcases from the car – even if it’s not one of your cousins who gets them for you, one of the boys will. The first person you see inside the door practically gets tackled in a hug. Lucky for everyone involved, it’s one of the ones related to you.
Jack laughs, using your momentum to spin you around in the foyer before making sure you land safely on your feet.
“Yo, Sunshine’s here!” he calls out to the rest of the house, and while you would love a whole crowd to emerge from the woodwork, it’s really just Quinn and Josh. Quinn wraps you in a tighter but less energetic hug than his younger brother. Josh just nods at you.
“Moose would come greet you,” your eldest cousin explains, “but he’s exercising his right to sleep in past noon. Josh and I are gonna take the boat out for a spin, Jack can get your stuff if you wanna come with.”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “I didn’t drive up in my swimsuit. You and Josh have fun. I’ll make sure pretty boy over here doesn’t get hurt carryin’ all my crap.”
You can feel Jack roll his eyes at that, but Quinn smiles fondly as he and Josh head back toward the dock. Jack leads you the other way, back out to your car so he can grab your big bags like the gentleman Auntie Ellen raised him to be. You bump his shoulder with yours.
“So,” you ask playfully, “Who’s coming to see me first?”
“That would be Josh.”
“Besides him.”
Jack shrugs. “Some of Luke’s friends, I guess. Most of my buddies can’t make it out until later.”
Your cousins, bless them, are still pretty normal guys. They don’t care much for the specifics of planning. In the summer, that often falls to you. Parties, room assignments, grocery lists (brand names and quantities included) – all yours.
Also all yours? One of the bedrooms in the “east wing” of the house. It was the one place where your input on decorations had been taken, and now it’s a warm, light-filled sanctuary in a house almost entirely decked out in shades of gray, black and brown.
You let yourself fall onto the fluffy, pastel yellow bedspread as Jack sets down your suitcases, taking in the feeling of being home. It’s not all there, not yet, and it won’t really be until the house is littered with hoodies and half-finished drinks belonging to who knows, until you’ve kicked a lot of butts in a few rounds of your favorite card game.
“Sunshine?” you hear your youngest cousin ask blearily from outside your room.
Sitting up with a squeal, you give him just enough time to rub the crusties out of his eye, and then attack him just like you did Jack.
“Lukey! Welcome to the land of the living,” you tease, standing on tiptoe to ruffle his curls. “Big league did a number on you, huh?”
“Shut up,” he grumbles, turning a little pink. But you know he’s proud that you acknowledged his promotion. His next words are quiet but you hear them loud and clear. “...missed you.”
So he gets one last squeeze for being sweet before you release him to hunt down some afternoon breakfast, and your last summer of freedom officially begins.
You get a blissful few weeks of peace with your cousins. Josh leaves after a week or so with a promise to try and come back before the summer is over. Luke’s reunions with each of his college teammates warm your heart, despite the fact that they would never admit just how much they missed each other. You get plenty of time on the boat, roaming the town running errands while the boys golf, and teaching the youngins how a game of Scum is played (and lost) before the storm arrives.
Jack’s friend Matt Boldy is, unfortunately, the first of his many friends to show up. He just happens to be the only one you don’t get along with, too. You hear the knock from the kitchen and head out with the intention of greeting someone who’s almost as much your friend as your cousin’s, but you watch his face drop at the same time as yours through the glass door.
“Where’s everybody else?” you ask when you open the door.
“Coming later,” is all he says gruffly as he squeezes in, avoiding you as much as possible.
“Great,” you drawl, shutting the door back. “Enjoy your stay.”
And with that, you head back into the kitchen to finish putting away dishes. You hear Jack greet his buddy, having appeared from wherever he was. Somehow, his brothers have ended up in the kitchen – probably searching for snacks. It seems they can tell that your mood has dropped.
They know why, too.
“Why do you hate Matt so much?” Luke asks through a mouthful of chips, hand already in the bag for more.
“That’s ridiculous,” you say. “I do not hate Matthew.”
Luke starts to point out that it’s implied in the way you call him by his full name unlike literally everyone else, especially here, but Quinn cuts him off.
“You two have been antagonizing each other for years. Why?”
“Because he hates me, and I’m reacting.” You shrug as you say it, wiping off a bowl as you put it in a cabinet.
Luke finally manages to get a word in. “But you, like, hated him as soon as you met him.”
“Jack was really excited to introduce you guys. Thought you would get along so well,” Quinn notes, getting up to put his glass in the sink. “It’s not like you have to, of course, but-” He cuts himself off with a shrug when you turn to glare at him.
The three of you are quiet for a moment, but the peace is shattered by the entrance of Luke’s last remaining friend, Dylan, and Jack and Matt.
“Who’s ready to go out on the boat?” Jack asks, and the group scatters.
You’re off to change – you spent the morning cleaning up from the last couple days of cooking, so it’s not your responsibility to help out with the boat today. Unfortunately, your stop in the kitchen to refill the designated “boat cooler” does make you the last one out to the dock.
Matt turns to Jack and makes some snarky comment about leaving you behind as you approach. Dylan sees the murderous look on your face, so he gets up and takes the seat left by Matt instead of making you do it. Because he’s a good kid.
The afternoon on the boat goes like it usually does whenever you and Matt are there – he “accidentally” rocks the boat while you’re standing on the back so you fall off, you distract Luke while he’s driving which might happen to throw Matt from his wakeboard before he can really get going.
From your perch on the back bench to tan, a shadow falls over you not long after the boat stops to pick him up. You pull your sunglasses up to sit on your head, smiling innocently at the man blocking your sun.
“Have a fun run, Matthew?” you ask, but he scoffs.
“You got me knocked off on purpose.” At his words, you feel more than see the other boys glancing back at you from their conversation.
“As if. I wasn’t even driving,” you reason, trying to shift back into the sunlight. Matt’s frown deepens, but he knows he can’t push it too far without intervention. Everyone else is well aware that you two get volatile in each other’s presence. Dylan still seems a little nervous even now.
So he decides to flick water on you instead, stepping over your legs and plopping down on the seat by your feet because he knows you can’t stay comfortable with him so close.
Boat time ends when Luke starts complaining about being hungry. You volunteer to help cook because you’re sick of cleaning, but only after you shower. Jack’s going to play sous chef because he wants to learn some new recipes.
Everyone helps dock the boat and unload as is customary, but you notice Matt makes a beeline for the house. You squint at his retreating figure. If he’s far away and your vision’s blurry, your cousins are right – he does kinda look like your type. Jack says something to you, so you shake off the thought.
The shower is already running in the bathroom across from your room by the time you get there, so you think maybe someone’s been a gentleman and started it for you. But when you knock on the door after grabbing clean clothes, you hear differently.
“Occupied!” Matt’s distinctive accent calls, though it’s muffled through the door.
You’re a grown adult and way too mature to be throwing an entire tantrum about this. So you stomp your foot once, sigh, and go steal Luke’s bathroom. And you don’t think at all about Matt making a point to steal your bathroom.
Everyone heads off to nap or something after Luke and Dylan clean up (though it’s really a group effort). You spend your time on the deck with a novel you’ve been meaning to finish. As much as you love the boys, they’re not ideal companions for reading about romance.
It sounds like one of the doors opens while you’re out there, but by the time you finish your paragraph and look up, it’s closed again.
Eventually, Jack comes outside to get you.
“Hey, Scum Queen,” he teases, pushing down your book so you look at him. “Ready to beat us all?”
“I don’t know about all,” you say, reminding him that while the rest of them were known to lose, Matt is known for his upset wins. Which, of course, tends to upset you specifically.
Jack takes a seat on the chair next to you, his smile dropping a little. “I was wondering about that, actually.”
“Don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Jackie, I can teach you to play the game but I can’t teach you the inherent greatness that you and your brothers forgot to pluck from the gene pool.”
“Not that.” And he still sounds serious, so you slip your bookmark back into your book and really look at him. “Did Matt ever do something, to make you… dislike him the way you do?”
You shrug, shaking your head a little.
“Nothing serious, I promise,” you reassure your cousin with a smile, because you know if Matt really had done something bad he’d be out of the house and fast. “Just beat me at my game and all, you know? We’ve never really gotten along.”
Jack shoots you a look, like I know, and you know he does. Maybe better than anyone.
“Why?” you ask softly.
“I just wanted to make sure since you two can barely be in the same room together and all. Never known you to be like this, Sunshine,” he notes.
You shrug again. “Never known anyone else who brings it out of me like he does.”
And the two of you leave it at that, because you both know sometimes things work and sometimes they just don’t.
“So,” Jack starts again. “Are you in the mood to win a card game?”
“Maybe,” you tease, but let him help you out of your lounge chair anyway.
Three days later, Jack is on the verge of tearing his hair out during the final hours of Cole and Alex’s drive up. You and Matt have definitely been worse this summer, he’s decided, even though both of you have confessed now that you’re not even sure why this whole feud started.
His only reprieve was Luke taking you along to visit his parents for the morning, so you could catch up with your beloved Auntie Ellen. But you would be back soon enough, and the bickering would resume.
He can only hope that Cole and Alex arrive first.
He’s a fool for thinking that it could happen.
Jack is pacing around the foyer, conveniently avoiding Matt. Matt, who bounds down the stairs at the same time as Jack hears a car pull into the driveway. And they both know Alex and Cole won’t be here until mid-afternoon, which is why nobody went out for long-term activities today. When the car door shuts, Matt squares his shoulders. Jack just sighs.
You bound in, freezing when you see your cousin’s friend. But you’re in such a good mood you choose to ignore him.
“This is from your mama,” you tell Jack, then give him a big hug. “She sends her love and, for whatever reason, luck.” Jack knows why. “Anyway, I’m gonna go get ready and head back out. See y’all later!”
Luke comes in as you’re bouncing up the stairs to your room. He sees Jack and Matt watching you leave, looks of confusion on both their faces. If he didn’t know any better, he would say that Matt is hurt by the lack of attention he’s gotten from you today. But Luke knows better. And he will never say that out loud… to you or Matt, anyway.
“She picked up a date at the store,” he says simply, holding up the few grocery bags in his hands, then continues on into the kitchen.
He ignores the back deck door slamming a minute later.
Cole and Alex are there with everybody else when you get back that night, gathered around the firepit in the backyard. You slip on a hoodie over your sundress before heading out to join them, grabbing a beer for yourself from the basement fridge on the way.
“Hey, guys!” you call as you approach, tousling Alex’s hair once you get close since he has his back to you. “How was the drive?”
Ever the sweetheart, Cole is on his feet right away to envelop you in a hug.
“Good, Sunshine, it was good. How was your date?” he replies, wiggling his eyebrows and emphasizing the last word.
You shrug coyly, giggling at his goofiness. There’s always been a lighthearted, playful and flirty edge to your relationship with most of Jack’s friends, and you’re not about to let a one-off date ruin that. You’ll complain to Luke later that the guy made you pay for ice cream, and he looked down on Texans, and that he hated hockey and none of that could ever work with you.
“We were just discussing going out to golf on Tuesday once Trev flies in, if you wanna join,” Quinn offers, knowing you’ll smile and politely decline like normal.
“It’s okay, I might be busy anyway,” you say softly.
The boys ooh, assuming it’s with the guy you were just with, but really you might be going shopping with Auntie Ellen. They don’t have to know that, though. You notice one in particular – sitting across the fire, avoiding your gaze – sipping his beer quietly. It would be reasonable if Quinn seemed to be the one who had a problem with you going out on dates, or even Jack, but Matt? Really?
Luke scoots over toward Matt to make room for you on his bench, so you join him and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees.
“So, do we have any plans for the fourth yet?” you question, trying to change the topic.
The Fourth of July being on a Tuesday makes it a bit awkward, but there’s normally a party. Maybe hosted, maybe attended, but honestly hosting is easier. You always know exactly where to escape, and you know the bedrooms aren’t being used for escapades because they’re always locked.
This simple inquiry launches the boys into a debate, one that you know will be heavily influenced by Trevor later. The single boys usually want to find a party; the taken ones like having the party come to them. Oddly enough, though, Matt is leaning toward host with Quinn, Luke, and Alex.
You’ve been hoping to get a little fling out of the summer – being your last one of complete freedom and all – so your early vote says go out. Jack’s mouth smiles, but his eyes look nervously over the fire.
“Why do you wanna go out, Sunshine?” Luke nudges you, talking low to avoid putting all the attention on you.
“I dunno, maybe I don’t feel like cleaning up this year,” you tease, elbowing him back.
Cole leans over and throws an arm around your shoulder, cheering about the fact that you’re on his and Jack’s side. Everyone assumes that Trevor will be, too, leaving you all at a stalemate and giving Quinn a great excuse to push the conversation back until it can be properly debated.
Eventually, conversation dies out and someone suggests heading inside to play some games. There’s a ping-pong and a pool table in the basement, next to an old-fashioned blackboard divided into five columns.
These columns, ultimately, are the lifeblood of the summer in a house full of men who literally live to compete. The categories are: Games Won (Pool), Games Won (Basketball), Games Won (Ping-Pong), Wakeboarding Time Record, and Current Scum Winner/Loser (under which it is usually declared to be Queen Sunshine complete with a smiley face and several exclamation points, and some other poor soul).
You’re not ready to lose the title to Matt in front of everybody, so you let emerging pool champion Luke sway the conversation in his favor. But when you’re paired up with Quinn against him and Matt for a teams game, well, you refuse to add a tally to either of their names in the “Games Won” column.
The morning that Trevor is supposed to fly in, you wake up early. Which is pointless, because even if you do end up going along to pick him up from the airport he won’t even get in until almost noon. Like any self-respecting Hughes would do, you make for the kitchen. It may be hours until someone else joins you on the main level. Still, can’t hurt to start cooking. That might bring you a companion.
You start with the eggs because they’ll reheat just fine. Even during the offseason, the boys tend to eat pretty healthy. Minus snacks and the occasional pizza. Nobody will mind if you finish the carton – leftovers aren’t a worry when you have this many hockey players in a single house.
A tall shadow appears from the same direction that you came from, and you get your hopes up that it’s your baby cousin, coming to save you from loneliness.
But it’s just Matt, half awake and looking grumpy as ever. You stay quiet, watching him perk up at the smell of scrambled eggs.
“Those for anyone to take?” he asks softly. You nod. His response is even harder to hear, but you catch it. “Thanks, Sunshine.”
“You’re welcome.”
The room stays quiet for a few minutes as he scoops a serving for himself and scarfs them down just standing across from you at the island counter. It’s kind of nice, having someone around in the early hours. Even if it’s someone that you wouldn’t normally picture there.
He offers to help right around the time that you replace his portion of the eggs.
“Do you even know how to cook?” you tease gently, not wanting to break whatever this new, fragile thing in between you is.
“Yes!” he says, offended. “Kinda.”
“Ever heard of bell peppers?” He folds his arms, making an incredulous face at you. You’re surprised at how endearing it is in the soft morning light, but push the thought away. “Can you grab me some from the bowl over there?” You point to the other counter with your chin, getting the fridge ingredients yourself.
He grabs all three – red, yellow, and green – and when he turns back to you, they’re being tossed from one hand to the other almost rhythmically. It makes you smile.
“I didn’t know you could juggle,” you note, catching the green pepper that he tosses your way without dropping either of the other two.
“How much do you think you know about me, Sunshine?” There’s a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice, the smallest trace of a smile on his lips. Once again, you have to force yourself to stop thinking that you could get used to interacting with him like this regularly. ‘Cause that’s not how it’s gonna be once literally anyone else comes into the kitchen.
“Enough,” you answer, adding quickly as to not ruin the current mood, “As much as I know about any of my cousins’ other friends that spend a ton of time here.”
He hums almost dismissively, and you bristle. Whether it was kind of a cop-out answer or not, it’s the only answer you have.
“Alright,” you say, leaning back against the fridge while your omelet cooks. “What do you know about me, Matthew? I’m intrigued.” You give him a moment to think.
“I know you like romance novels,” he offers with a one-shouldered shrug. It takes a minute before he continues. “And that you complain about having to clean, or cook or whatever but you really love taking care of your cousins. I know that you’re insanely competitive, maybe even more than the boys.”
The worst part is that none of it is wrong. He nailed you and your character, nonchalant, like knowing you almost intimately was just another day for him. And you hate it.
“Your food is burning,” he says, then, pushing himself away from the counter to get a drink behind you in the fridge.
You scramble for your omelet, hurriedly tossing in the cut-up peppers and ham that you prepared. And you pretend that a shiver doesn’t go up your spine when he puts his hand on your back and moves you so the fridge door doesn’t push you into the stovetop.
“I’m getting a hoodie,” you announce suddenly. “Don’t ruin my breakfast, please.” Then you run off, nearly bumping into a half-awake Quinn during your escape.
When you come back, your omelet is cooked and folded to perfection, already on a plate. But Quinn’s the only person left in the kitchen — and he can’t do that to save his life.
You don’t go with Jack and Cole to pick up Trevor from the airport. Instead, you stay and work on your tan on the boys’ little personal beach. Part of that time is spent lying on your stomach, book open but barely looked at.
If asked, you would say it’s not your fault that the boys decided to play catch or whatever outside and shoot a wink at Alex mid-sentence.
Luckily, Trevor’s grand entrance prevents that from happening. He comes out of the basement door, carrying a case of beer and yelling something weird. It’s an inside joke, if you have to guess. The beer gets left on a table so he can make the rounds.
He high fives or daps up or whatever all of the guys as he makes his way across the yard to you. Of Jack’s friends, he’s easily the flirtiest. And while it’s fun for the both of you, it means absolutely nothing – you help him scout for girls that are entirely unrelated to his buddies at parties. He even admits in front of everyone else that you’re the best wingman to him. Wingwoman. Whatever.
You get to your feet when he gets close, holding your arms up for the inevitable hug.
“Hey, Sunshine,” he greets you, flirty tone making you giggle.
“Hi, Trev,” you say, looping your arms around his neck so he can pick you up and spin you around. He doesn’t disappoint, arms tight around your waist to keep you secure. “How was Cali this year? Get enough pretty girls to feed your ego or do you still need my help finding more?”
He laughs, boisterous as usual.
“Okay, separate!” Jack orders from across the yard, making the two of you laugh even more.
Trevor lowers you back to the ground to satisfy your cousins, but he grabs your book and carries it inside for you, talking all the while. And you miss the glare from the other side of the yard, but Trevor doesn’t.
The next night, everyone gathers around the kitchen table for a game of Scum. You’ve only lost twice since you arrived for the summer, and both times you regained your title by the end of the night.
Jack swears you’re a card counter. Quinn shakes his head in resignation and calls it magic. Luke just huffs, but laughs at his brothers’ frustration. He already owns a game; he doesn’t care.
“So,” Trevor starts, leading the game easy with a single 4. “Sunshine.” You look up at him from beneath your lashes, playing innocent. Because who knows what he’s going to say next, really? “How was your second date today?”
A harmless enough question, but entirely incorrect and he’s definitely asking on someone else’s behalf. Probably Jack. Who absentmindedly lays down a single five.
You glance at your hand. There is a king, but you’re hoping to save him for later. This better not get too high.
“There wasn’t one,” you say simply. “I went shopping.”
“Ooh, for us?” Cole teases as Alex mercifully lays down a six, and you wink at him obligingly.
“Definitely. Y’all’re gonna love my outfits on the Fourth.”
Trevor raises an eyebrow, but gets distracted by Matt playing two sevens. Luke can’t top it, and neither can Cole. You sigh when you’re forced to play your pair of nines.
Quinn has to pass too.
You lose your crown to Matt that night, just like the first summer you met. And just like that first loss, you lose hard. For a couple of games it looks like there’s a chance to steal it back, but Jack cuts it out from under you and immediately loses it back to Matt. At least you’re no longer the scum by the time everybody’s sick of the game.
Later on in the night, Trevor brings something vodka-infused with a straw in it to aid in your dramatic recovery on the deck. Just like Jack had last week, he plops onto the lounge chair next to you. The two of you sit in silence for a minute while you nurse your drink.
“Trying to show off for someone, Sunshine?” he asks eventually, only looking at you from the corner of his eye. “I sure hope it’s not that guy who hates hockey and your lovely Southern charm.”
“I’m gonna kill Luke,” you say, but there’s no force behind it.
Trevor raises his hands defensively. “We’re just lookin’ out for you, kid.”
“You, Jack and Luke are younger than me.”
He waves off the notion, leaning in with a mischievous grin.
“So who is it, Sunshine? I know it’s not me, and Turcs has a girlfriend this summer. That leaves two people and you’ve got the most casual platonic relationship I’ve ever seen with one of ‘em.”
You roll your eyes, hating the blush creeping into your cheeks.
“I’ll give you this, Trev – he’s physically my type, but I will never get over him being him to explore that. I promise,” you say, pulling the straw out of your drink and tilting your head back to gulp down the rest. “Now, if you don’t have anythin’ else important to tell me, I think I’ll be heading on in for the night.”
You almost bump into Matt himself as you walk in – he’s leaning out the door like he was going to say something. He does not get out of the way in time, and you barely manage to stop yourself from crashing into him.
There’s a moment where both of you are frozen. You’re looking up at him, he’s blinking down at you. He’s kind of leaning over you, one arm propping him up on the door frame, and Trevor is definitely reacting behind your back.
“I was, uh, Trevor… game inside?” Matt stumbles over his words like you’ve never seen, gesturing at your mutual friend and back towards the kitchen table.
Trevor must nod or something, because Matt starts stepping inside like he’s satisfied. You kind of have to move in sync to avoid touching him, the way the two of you are positioned in the doorway. Still, your arm accidentally brushes his ribs. Goosebumps raise immediately. If you’re not mistaken, he reacts too.
“Um, goodnight, Matthew,” you mumble, and then you’re gone.
The next couple of days pass quickly and relatively quietly. All of Jack’s friends are happy to be back together for a bit. You spend more time with Quinn and Luke. Though, of course, the three of you are always invited to things. Like golfing today, which was turned down in favor of a day on the lake.
During a quieter period where there are more boats around and nobody can wakeboard, the three of you sit and talk. Mainly about the party on the Fourth, which unfortunately you are hosting this year.
“Trevor did not come through,” you complain from your spot on the back of the boat.
“Not for you,” Luke says, cringing as soon as he gets the last word out. Quinn shoots him a look, which unfortunately for them you know means shut up. You sit all the way up immediately.
“What did you guys do?” you ask slowly.
Neither of them answer you, which means they definitely did do something. Luke even avoids your eyes.
“Did you bribe Trevor?”
“No!” Luke scoffs, failing miserably at lying. (You find out later that Quinn has a local friend who only attends parties at the Hughes lake house, and he begrudgingly promised to talk up Trevor if the party happened to land at home.)
You fall back onto the seat, draping an arm across your forehead.
“Quinn, did you really not want to go out that bad?” you try, focusing on your elder cousin.
He shrugs, muttering some lame excuse like he likes hosting or something because he can make sure everyone stays safe.
“Luke?”
“I can’t always get away with drinking at other parties,” he explains. “No one cares here.”
“You guys have betrayed me today,” you declare, and that’s the end of the conversation.
Even though it’s not actually July yet, someone made the brilliant decision to shoot fireworks out from the big lake island on the Friday night before the fourth. It’s not even sarcasm when you say that – you’re looking forward to everyone being on the boat together, watching the light show.
The guys seem pretty pumped about it too, gathering a variety of beers and snacks in advance. Jack scolds Trevor for offering you his hoodie when you shiver on the way out to the dock. You end up wearing an old one of Jack’s, but somehow that still puts a smug look on Trevor’s face.
Your flip-flops don’t have much traction, so you slip when you’re climbing on the boat. You close your eyes, waiting to feel the cold water catch you – but someone grabs your hand. When your eyes open up again, Matt is holding onto you. Panting a little bit, like he’d sprinted across the boat to get to you. But he wouldn’t. Right?
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly as he pulls you closer – back into a safe and fully upright position on the boat.
You nod wordlessly, gaze lowering to where his hand still holds yours. He remembers, too, lets go and scratches his neck awkwardly. Then he walks away without another sound.
Trevor sidles up to you instead, asking if he can join you in your usual spot on the back bench. Of course he can, so he escorts you to your seat and hands you a blanket in case you get cold. The boat ride out to the middle of the lake is quick, jovial. You and Matt are completely avoiding each other, so there’s no fighting.
You look around in the brief, dark moments before the fireworks start. Quinn drove so he stays in the driver’s seat, Jack has forced you into the middle of the bench and claimed your other side protectively. Luke sits alone behind the driver’s seat, comfortable in between his brothers. Matt, Cole and Alex are on the bench on Trevor’s other side, but even with the proximity you barely notice his presence.
You’re too caught up in the moment to worry about it, listening to the boys talk amongst themselves with a content smile on your face.
“They’re starting!” Cole calls and points in the direction of the lights, making everybody turn their heads or twist in their seats.
It’s beautiful – sparkling golden lights reflecting over the lake, distorting in the surface as small waves rock the boat gently. They’re the kind that audibly crackle and fizz out as they disappear into the dark, fading away with a beautiful grace. You start to think maybe it’s a shame that you all miss the fireworks every year just for the sake of a party.
The next round is oranges, greens and purples like Mardi Gras. They’re bigger, louder, a bit more rapid-fire than the simple golds.
It’s pretty, but you’re definitely more of a golden sparkler fan. You make a mental note to ask if someone is willing to get sparklers for the party. It’ll make you feel better.
Your gaze wanders over the lake, watching the reactions from other boats full of people who seems to be enjoying the fireworks as much as the boys. A hush has fallen over the normally loud lake. Kids and adults alike wait in wonder with their eyes to the sky.
Even Jack, the most energetic of your cousins, has fallen still beside you. Finally, your eyes find Matt. He’s hardly looking at the fireworks.
The whole world seems to flash red as your eyes meet his in the semi-dark. The next firework is white, shedding enough light to illuminate the deep blue staring back at you. Then the fireworks, too, turn everything blue with their shine.
Alex points out some of the firework debris as it falls and your spell is broken. Both you and Matt try to follow where Alex is pointing with your eyes. As you lean forward for a better view, you feel Trevor reach for Jack behind your back.
They seem to be disagreeing about something quietly instead of watching the show, which is now themed around patriotic colors.
But they’re putting in effort to not be obvious about it, so you let it be. If it’s big enough, it’ll come back up later.
The fireworks go out with a literal bang: one last, giant, super fast explosion of color turning the world red, white and blue, over and over. Cheers go up from the other boats (and yours) as soon as the sky goes dark.
Cole is singing the show’s praises as Quinn turns the boat around.
“The way they split it into different sections,” he’s gushing, gesturing wildly to Luke and almost hitting Matt, “just- awesome!”
The rest of the night fades away in splashes and peals of laughter. You try your best to forget the way your relationship with Matt is shifting around you.
Early July makes everyone restless. Some of the boys start offseason training. Since he doesn’t, Quinn spends most of his time helping you prepare for the upcoming party. Trevor has plenty of input, but conveniently never has enough time to actually make it happen.
Your request for sparklers is approved only if you are the one to get them. But you catch Trevor and Cole on some downtime anyway, so they come with you for “liquor and lighters,” as they (incorrectly) become known. They’re even nice enough to let you have the passenger seat instead of Trevor.
Which, unfortunately, gives him an excuse to sit unbuckled in the backseat of Cole’s car and lean forward to start gossipy conversations.
“Cole,” he starts in a suspiciously sweet voice. “Have you noticed anything weird this summer?”
Cole seems to know exactly what his friend is on about.
“Oh yes I have, Trevor. Did you notice something weird?”
“Indeed,” Trevor responds. “I-”
You cut him off. “The only weird thing right now is the way you two are talking. Wanna bring it up like normal people?”
They exchange a look. A silent battle ensues, and apparently Cole loses. He sighs, running a hand over his face as he brakes for a red light.
“Fine. Okay. What is up with you and Matt? Like, one minute you guys will do literally anything to spite each other, but the next you’ve made eye contact or accidentally touched each other or something and it’s like dogs who wear a shock collar.”
“It really is so weird,” Trevor pipes up.
You think about it for a moment. Yeah, that is how on edge the two of you have been lately, but you’re not really sure why. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you eventually say with a shrug. “We’re fighting just like normal.”
“But you’re actually not.” Trevor holds up a finger and says it with such a matter-of-fact tone, you don’t even bother with a response. You only hum dismissively.
The three of you sit in near-silence for a few minutes. Trevor’s “pre-party” playlist is on low volume in the background.
All of a sudden, Cole stage whispers, “I think they like each other,” dragging it out in enough of a sing-songy way to be annoying.
“Shut up!”
“And you don’t wanna tell each other so you’d rather act like kids-” Trevor adds, cut off when you turn in your seat and stick a finger in his face.
“Zegras, I swear to all that is hockey if you say another damn word about that, the both of you are getting left at the fireworks place so I can watch your arrest live on the news-”
Cole doesn’t let you finish your threat. “Woah, woah! We’re all friends here. It’s just a little crush, we can be civil about it.” You turn your glare on him, and he deflects it to the backseat. “Right, Trevor?”
“It is definitely not a crush,” you mumble, slumping back in your seat.
They stay quiet about it for the rest of the grocery run, but you know they didn’t listen.
On the Fourth of July, otherwise known as Party Day, the guys get up early and nap in preparation for the late night. The morning was spent on the lake. You are the one who gets the house ready – setting out bags of chips in bowls, leaving notes detailing the dips and their locations and what bowl to put them in, making sure the public bathrooms are girl-clean and not just boy-clean.
The event isn’t huge on decorations, but you got stars and stripes patterned napkins and that kinda stuff just for the sake of it. You make a place for them, but since you’ll be getting ready for the party essentially until it starts, actually setting everything out is up to the boys.
Your cousins know their responsibilities, especially as the main hosts of the party; this has been how the four of you have been delegating it for years. And you always know that when Quinn comes down dressed in red, white, or blue (you have convinced the trio to choose one main color each for five years in a row now), it’s time for you to head back up to your room. You pass Luke on the way.
“Don’t look too pretty,” he warns, turning on the steps so you know he’s serious. “We’re not gonna want to chase a bunch of broken-hearted guys out of here at the end of this.”
“Aw, thanks Lukey,” you tell him, bending down to kiss his cheek and ruffle his hair. “I’ll try to avoid hurting feelings this year.”
You practically skip the rest of the way into your room. Conversations float up periodically from the floor below – Trevor fishing for compliments, Cole laying it on too thick with Matt and flustering him, Alex missing his girlfriend. They soon turn into greeting the people who arrive early, bearing fruit trays and extra ice for coolers.
By the time you’re finished, somebody’s already turned on the big speaker in the living room. It’s later than you meant to be done. Still, you hope that people remembered to set out the dips.
“Somebody call the fire department, ‘cause we’ve got a smokeshow in the house!” Trevor calls when he sees you coming down the stairs, red solo cup already in his hand. You try to hide your cringe at the smell of jungle juice when he gets near. He hooks an arm around your waist and leans in to whisper, “Fiery redhead by the sink. Thoughts?”
You give her a onceover as Trevor all but hangs off of you. When your scan is complete, you raise on your toes to tell him, “Showing off pictures of a boyfriend. Try the black-haired girl in the off-shoulder thing by the deck doors.” You pat him on the open-shirted chest and send him on his merry way.
Luke is almost hiding in plain sight in the living room, talking hockey with some guy whose grandparents have lived on the lake forever. He raises his cup in acknowledgement when you wave at him.
Jack is busy with, you assume, his next fling, and Quinn is actually playing the part of a good host.
Matt is nowhere to be found.
It’s really weird that you have to remind yourself not to be disappointed about that. So you shake it off with a seltzer and start making some friends out of the crowd. There’s a girl you recognize who’s been around for a few summers now, and when Jack excuses himself from his not-gonna-be girlfriend you steal her too.
The music gets louder the more you drink, the beat more enticing. You probably won’t see these girls after tonight, but for now they are your social buoys. They keep you afloat in the crowd until some guy pulls you in for a dance. It’s just in time for Jack to come back for his girl, too.
Luckily for you it’s only Trevor.
“She was more into you,” he murmurs in your ear, unaffected smirk on his face. “I would ask if you’re interested, but I think she’s got some competition.” He points with his eyes over to the wall, where Matt has mysteriously reappeared.
Some girl is trying her hardest to talk to him, but he won’t turn to look at her fully.
“He doesn’t have a claim on me, Trev,” you remind your friend, facing him and starting to get into the dance when the song changes. “We don’t even-“
“No, just wishes he did.” His hands land on your waist. Jack would not appreciate this if he saw it, but he vanished not long before Matt showed up. Knowing that the way you do, you turn it up a little more.
You’ve never gotten to see how good of a dancer Trevor is – might as well take the opportunity.
A couple songs later, you’ve sent him off toward a late-arriving group of girls with a kiss on the cheek for good luck. If they ask about it, he’s going to say you’re his cousin. You know this is how it works because someone asked you last year.
This is one of the biggest downsides to hosting the party instead of finding one, you remember. When you get tired, you can’t make it go away. You can’t leave. The best you can do is hide. Your favorite spot is at the edge of the water, so close to the treeline that no one will see you from the yard.
You grab an extra drink for yourself and smuggle a blanket from the boat stash just in case it’s colder outside than you expect. There are games of cornhole and something else happening on the lawn. The firepit is in use. Quinn might be over there now, actually. Probably starting to wind down a little bit, just like you.
But someone has wandered over from somewhere, and they’re sitting in your spot.
The realization almost makes you trip over your shoes. And the sound alerts them to your presence. Not much light manages to reach his face around you, but you don’t need it – you can recognize Matt in the dark by now.
“Hey,” you greet him, voice dull. “Found my hiding spot?”
“Always knew about it,” is the simple response.
You choose to ignore the roughness in his tone. “Okay if I sit?”
He just shrugs. So you sit anyway, shoving your drinks into the sand while the blanket falls to the side. Silence falls between you and Matt. You’ve always felt like the nearby trees muffle the sounds from the yard and house, for which you’re grateful.
Even now.
Matt is the one to speak first. “You and Trevor got something going on?”
Almost petty, you shrug. “Same stuff as always, I think. Nothing special. He’s… not my type.” The confession feels maybe a little too vulnerable for anywhere else. But not here. Here, you’re safe.
It still gets Matt’s attention. His head turns the slightest bit, trying to see you from the corner of his eye. “He isn’t?”
“Not really.” You punctuate that with a swig of your drink, tilting your head back even farther to drain it when you hear a suspiciously Trevor-like whoop in the distance. It’s not your problem now, and you don’t intend for it to be later, either.
Even with the revelation, Matt stays quiet. Which is normal for you two. But normal feels kinda… wrong at the minute.
“You weren’t feeling the party?” you ask after maybe a minute or so of silence, as if talking civilly is a normal activity for the two of you to engage in.
“Nah. Alex and Cole took over beer pong and Trevor and Jack are caught up with women. Not fun being the odd man out in there.”
“What about Quinn and Luke?”
The corner of his lips – the side closest to you, anyway – twitches. Like he’s holding back a smile. “Actually hosting, thank God.” He pronounces the last word differently than everyone else at the lake house, in that Masachusetts-y way that he still talks even after years away from home because of hockey. You admire that about him. He never completely took on the accent that most of your cousins and their friends seem to imitate, even if subconsciously. “‘d you get tired of holding down the fort too?”
You just hum in response. He’s right on the money, but you can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he is. It seems like he’s aware nonetheless.
“C’mon, Sunshine, just admit that I know you well enough to know that,” he teases, tilting his head toward you a little bit.
“Never,” you say back, turning ever so slightly to grin at him.
He sighs, shaking his head. “We’ll get there someday.”
Your curiosity has successfully been piqued. “Where’s ‘there’?” you question, fully facing him now.
“Just… better. Along, I guess,” he admits, suddenly acting shy. Matt won’t look at you anymore, only now you want him to.
Hoping to restore some of the odd comfort that the two of you had before your confession, you let silence fall over your little hiding place. Some silence, anyway. Nothing can completely subdue the sounds of the party.
When it feels peaceful again, you speak. “We get along well enough, don’t we?”
“Always have to disagree with me, don’t you, Sunshine?” he responds, shaking his head before finally making eye contact again. “Can’t just say that yeah, we could fight in front of the guys a little less or something?”
“Fighting with you is fun,” you shrug.
“Fun for you, sure,” Matt says, making a face.
You cut him off before he can continue, pointing a finger at him. “You can’t tell me that you don’t look forward to it, Matthew, I notice you gearing up for it everytime you see me enter the room.”
“That’s because you always pick a fight with me!” he says, louder but not yet loud enough to draw attention to your hiding place. “And I hate being called that!”
“What, by your name? It’s Matthew. You are named Matthew.”
“You know everyone calls me Matt.”
Only now do you realize how close his face has gotten to yours, why his voice has lowered again in volume but not in intensity.
And you follow his eyes making their way downward to watch you breathe out, “But to me, you’re Matthew.”
He mumbles something else, something you can’t hear over the sudden noises of fireworks and excited partygoers. You’re pretty sure, though, that his mouth made shapes for the words ‘kiss’ and ‘right now.’ Furrowing your brows, you try to lean in so he can repeat it, but instead he recoils.
You mostly hear what he says this time, and you’re pretty sure it’s “I’m tired of this. I’m going inside.”
Matt walks off into the night, leaving you wrapped in your blanket with more questions than answers.
Everybody sleeps in late the next day, as expected. You pretend not to hear more than one pair of footsteps making their way out of the house before getting up to make some hangover breakfast.
A door cracks down the hall, but it closes as soon as yours opens.
Alex, for some reason, is the only one already downstairs when you get there. But he’s on a phone call. He holds up a hand in greeting before heading out onto the deck.
Trevor bounces down the stairs after you’ve started a cup of coffee for yourself, in a good enough mood that you know at least something went down last night. But at least he has the decency to wait until you’ve gotten your pick-me-up to start talking about it.
Except he doesn’t say what you expect him to. At all.
“Why did you and Matt come out of the same hidden spot at the edge of the yard last night, only like twenty minutes apart or whatever?”
You just groan. That’s too weird of a story to share first thing after you’ve woken up, even if Trevor is great at being a substitute for girl talk. He raises an eyebrow and leans over the island counter. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turn back to the fridge to find some bacon or something.
He waits until you’ve gotten some food and headed out to the dock with it to press again.
“So. You and Matt. Something fun happen last night, or…?”
You sigh, letting your head fall into your hands. “I think… we might have almost kissed?” Trevor gasps, grabbing your arm with both hands excitedly. His eyes are wide. “But we didn’t!” you continue insistently. “Just… our faces got really close, and he muttered something I couldn’t hear over the fireworks, and I tried to move so I could hear him and I guess he remembered we’re us so he ran off.”
“When are you guys going to just admit it?” Trevor asks, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen two people so down bad for each other.” He only gives you like a second to scoff before he’s going on. “Just get together and get over all that other stuff already.”
“I don’t think we can, Trev. Every time I think we might, we just start fighting again. Usually worse.”
He pats your back a couple of times. It’s awkward.
“There, there,” Trevor says. “We’ll fix it.” And then he’s moving, up and away, down the dock and back to the house.
“We?” you call after him. “Trevor, what do you mean we?”
Just like last night, you never get an answer.
Except you do. That night, after dinner but before a couple rounds of ping-pong and pool, you’re passing by the stairs to the basement when you hear two voices. Two voices that you’ve come to know pretty well after the past few summers.
“-Sunshine, she’s just driving me crazy, dude,” Matt is saying.
And maybe you’re a little too nosy for your own good, so you stop.
“I can’t be around her without- without-” Trevor must make a face or something, because you can hear the disgust in Matt’s voice. “No, not like that!”
“It’s just like I’ve been saying all along,” your mutual friend tries to tell him. “The two of you would get along so much better if you’d stop acting like kids and just like each other already.”
You lower yourself to a sitting position on the stairs, listening intently now.
Matt scoffs. “Never in a million years, Trevor. You’re crazy. She-” He pauses, lowering his voice for the next little bit. Even though you move down a couple of steps, you don’t catch it. “-and I can’t stand it! I can’t stand her. I don’t see how you guys have put up with her all this time, always being here, and- and-”
You picture him gesturing wildly, like he does when he’s arguing his case during a card game. Except he’s not arguing that a play was legal. He’s arguing about you, and how intolerable you are, apparently.
He heaves a deep sigh that you can even hear from your spot on the stairs. “I can’t do this anymore, Trevor. I give up. We’re just gonna hate each other forever, and I’ll be an active participant in that.”
Finally – quietly, hesitantly, so unlike either of them – you hear Trevor speak. “Matt, it’s not like you’ve been particularly nice to her, either.” Matt tries to say something again, maybe protest, but your friend stops him. “It takes two people to be nice to each other.”
“We can’t do that, Trevor. You know it as well as I do.”
Something about the resignation in Matt’s voice makes something in your chest twinge. It certainly can’t be your heart, but some part of you feels maybe something akin to sympathy. A similar frustration over the situation.
There’s a gap between the two of you that formed long ago, and it looks too big now to bridge solely in the name of friendship. At least, you don’t have a clue how to start.
When you hear a foot land on the bottom stair, you scramble away as quietly as you can.
There’s supposed to be a storm today. Jack’s been complaining about it all week, and you can hear him complaining about it downstairs now. It’s disrupting any plans he could make – boating, golfing… that’s pretty much it.
Most of the guys seem to be bothered by the uncertainty of their weather apps more than the storm itself. Jack’s friends don’t have much time left to spend here, and they’re antsy to make the most of what they do have. You’re just relieved by the promise of Matt’s departure, since he evidently can’t even stand being around you.
It’s not that you’ve always assumed the way that the two of you poke and prod at each other is all in good fun. No, there’s always been some level of real, negative emotion there. But this summer especially, there was something else, too. A mutual understanding, maybe. An almost-friendship.
You thought that he was starting to feel it too, in the quiet moments between fireworks. When it felt like there was no one else to perform for.
Apparently you were wrong.
These thoughts are the first thing you face head-on this morning. Somehow, they’re easier to deal with than your cousin’s whining. Then someone knocks on your door.
“Are you decent?” Trevor calls through the wood. It would be a nice gesture if he didn’t start opening the door before you’ve really answered.
“Come on in, I guess,” you say, failing to hide the gloominess in your voice.
His little half-grin slides off his face. “Oh, man. You’re that upset about the storm too?”
You shake your head. “No, it’s not that.” And you don’t want to have to explain it to him, but Trevor was the one Matt chose to talk to. You just pick at your comforter while he comes over to sit next to you.
“What’s wrong, Sunshine?”
“You can’t tell him,” you say immediately, inwardly cringing at yourself because of course you have to tell Trevor.
His expression changes to one of understanding quicker than you would have expected. “You heard us talking before the basement games last night.” You nod. He asks something you wouldn’t have expected. “But you were so quiet. What all did you hear?”
“Um, how about that he can’t stand me?” you make finger quotes in the air, your voice raising. “That we’re gonna hate each other forever, apparently, and that I just drive him sooo crazy, don’t I?”
Your friend sighs. His hands go up into the air in a kind of defensive, kind of surrendering way. He starts to talk, then closes his mouth. Finally, he runs his hands through his hair.
“You’re gonna have to talk that out with him, Sunshine,” he says. “But just know, you’re missing some context.”
You’d really like to press him further, but Luke saves him by poking his head in the door. His brows furrow at something that’s going on in the room, but you don’t know what. “Are you guys coming on the boat?” he questions.
Trevor interrupts before you can ask where the storm has gone. “We’re taking the boat out?”
“Yeah, looks like we’ll be clear for a little bit more. Jack wants to get out while we can, so you guys might wanna decide fast.” He starts to leave, but you call him back, shooing Trevor out of the door so he can go get ready for the outing. Trevor doesn’t seem to mind.
“Is Matt going out on the boat?” you ask urgently. It’s clear that Luke notices how wide your eyes are. Still, he shakes his head.
“I think he’s out doing something,” your baby cousin tries to offer, but you wave it off.
“If we’re leaving before he gets back, I’m in.”
Mid-day boating turns into afternoon naps or house-cleaning and cards after dinner. You cheer up as the day goes by, especially since you happen to never be in the same place as Matt. That is, until Jack calls for Scum.
Matt is the king at the start of the night. He holds the position through two games.
If you were playing any other game, one where you could spend the entirety of it sabotaging him, you would have taken the seat right next to him. Instead, poor Luke and Cole are playing buffers.
“I just can’t stand the way you shuffle,” you comment once. “Give me the cards next time, I’ll show you how it’s done.”
“Think I can handle myself, Sunshine. Just mind your own business for once,” comes the retort through gritted teeth. Quinn and Alex raise their eyebrows.
By the third and final deal, the two of you have gotten worked up to a point that the others have never seen before. You flick the cards at him so hard that they slide off the table more often than not unless he catches them. He glares back at you, but doesn’t say anything.
Not until it’s time to lay down his first card.
“You ever wonder how much better this game would be if everyone could handle not being the king or queen after every round?” he asks Jack next to him.
“Matt-” Jack starts to say, eyes darting over to you nervously to wait for your reaction.
You pretend not to hear, just waiting for your turn to lay down your eights and hopefully end the round, but most of the guys can see how infuriated you are.
Then you lean over to whisper to Cole, “I thought you hockey players were meant to be at least a little competitive.” He does laugh at that.
Matt narrows his eyes. The next round starts shortly after.
As the game goes on, people start tapping out as you all go around. You and Matt start taking every opportunity to gripe at each other.
For a minute, it looks like Matt’s going to beat you. He looks you dead in the eye as he says, “I think my first decree as king is gonna be an exile.”
You suck in a breath. Even if he isn’t saying it outright, you know exactly who that’s directed at. And you can’t say you’re happy about it, but you also can’t say that you wouldn’t kick him out of here right now if you had the power. But you won’t. You never will.
As Quinn takes his turn after you distractedly pass again, you come to a realization: you will never be rid of Matt. As long as he’s friends with Jack, he’s going to stick around.
This antagonistic relationship — whatever’s actually underneath it — can’t last.
So you make him an indirect offer on your next turn, when you lay down a singular ten. “I’m getting kind of tired of this, boys. Maybe we should find a new game, start over and make new rivalries?”
You don’t miss the looks thrown around the table. Least of all, Matt’s brief yet victorious smirk.
Quinn passes. Alex passes. Trevor lays down a pair of sixes, a playful smile on his lips. He’s the only person at the table who seems so at ease, but even his calm is a farce. Luke passes too.
Matt makes eye contact with you and only you before he lays his cards down. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to back down.
“Is this just because you’re losing? Spoiler alert: you can’t always be a winner, Sunshine. Not everything is gonna go your way. The sooner you accept that, the better,” he tells you, as he presents his set: the kings of clubs, diamonds, and spades.
It doesn’t escape you that his trio is heartless.
Next to him, Jack tenses. Cole’s eyes flick to you. Your skin heats under the lights of the kitchen nook chandelier. Despite your embarrassed blush, you keep a straight face. And you straighten your four remaining cards against the table, nodding to Jack to go ahead with his turn.
He passes. Poor Cole, eyes darting between you and Matt, double checks his cards. The shuffling sounds like thunder in the silence that’s enveloped the room – no, the entire house. He comes up empty. Matt keeps his steely gaze on you the entire time.
“You know, I think you forget that at the end of the day life isn’t a competition,” you say, voice tight. “And winning it all is worth nothing if you scare off anyone who might have been close to you.” You take a deep breath before forcing the last sentence out. “Guess we have to learn that the hard way sometimes.”
Your chair screeches on the floor as you stand, shattering the quiet and making almost everyone else at the table flinch.
“Good luck to the rest of y’all,” you finish simply, tossing your quartet of twos onto the table. “And have a good night.”
With that, you head back through the darkness of the living room and up to your bedroom. Even all the lovely colors you had taken care to fill it with look dark in the dead of night.
You stay inside your room the next day, though it dawns bright and sunny. You creep out to the empty kitchen at some early hour to smuggle some snacks back up to your room. Hopefully, Luke gets the silent apology you send for depriving him of Cheez-Its for… however long you have them.
Quinn knocks on the door at some point before noon to ask if you want to come along for something that you half listen to, because they wanna do it before other reasons that you don’t really listen to. No offense to your cousin, of course, but you’re very wrapped up in your wallowing.
He is given a flimsy excuse and a smile at 75% effort, and that’s all it takes for him to go away. But he can usually tell when you really just don’t want to talk about it. You turn the music back on to cover up the sounds of the boys getting ready to leave and tuck back into your novel.
Somewhere in the middle of the scramble, you hear someone yelling for someone else to “get a move on, we really don’t have all day”. The noise catches your attention. As you look up from your book, you notice a shadow passing in front of your door. They hesitate, as if they want to come in. There never is a knock like you expect. Instead, the voice yells again and the shadow moves on. You’re pretty sure they’re not calling for Luke.
The house has been completely empty for a while when you decide to venture out for a little pick-me-up. Unfortunately, your car is trapped in front of Cole’s in the driveway. 44 Scoops is a little out of the way on your bike, but it has the best ice cream around and you deserve some today. You barely notice the sky darkening as you ride. The girl taking the orders greets you warmly.
“Hi, what can I getcha today?” she asks, smile putting her braces on full display.
“Um, just one vanilla in a cone, please,” you say, tucking your hair behind your ear under your hood. You feel like kind of a weirdo keeping it up, but you really didn’t feel like doing anything with your appearance.
“We’ll get that right out,” the girl says, then tilts her head at you. “Do you like sprinkles?”
You nod, but feel your eyebrows furrow. It’s kind of a weird question since you didn’t order sprinkles, but she doesn’t say anything else so you fork over a five dollar bill. When she returns to the counter a minute later, your scoop is covered in rainbow sprinkles.
“It kinda looked like you could use them,” the girl offers, shrugging as soon as the cone is safely in your hand. “I hope your day gets better!”
“Thank you,” you tell her, “Really.”
She smiles one more hot-pink-and-metallic smile at you, then moves on to the next customer.
And the day does not get better. Almost as soon as you turn toward the door, it starts sprinkling outside. Partway through your ice-cream-and-Instagram-reels binge, your phone dies. The cone melts a little too fast for you, and you get a couple spots on your sweatshirt as you finish it up.
It takes a miniature pity party just to get the courage to clip your hair up, go outside and get back on your bike.
Unknown to you, the boys are in a bit of a frenzy at the lake house. They started bringing the boat in when the sky got dark (a little earlier than they planned, even), but it was still raining by the time they got everyone and everything inside.
Then Luke calls for you to see if you want the late lunch/early dinner that Quinn plans on making, but you never answer. So he heads up to your room just to make sure you’re not asleep or still ignoring everybody, and you aren’t even there.
“Sunshine’s gone!” he announces when he slides back into the main living area. He’s trying and failing to hide his panic. His brothers exchange a glance that they pretend he doesn’t see, and Jack heads off to double check your room as if Luke is blind.
Quinn designates places for the other boys to check like they think you might have fallen asleep somewhere and failed to wake up despite all the noise they made coming back. Matt disappears into the basement without a word. Luke’s job now is to tag-team calling you with Quinn until one of them makes contact.
“I checked literally every bedroom upstairs. No sign of her, but her car’s still here,” Jack announces when he gets back downstairs, picking up his phone to start calling too. “You guys haven’t called Mom yet, right?”
Luke shakes his head. Quinn is too busy pacing around the kitchen table looking out the windows, seemingly under the impression that you might emerge from the tree line at the edge of the property. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Matt come up from the basement and head toward the second floor stairs, still not talking.
“She’s not up there-” Jack starts to tell his friend, but Matt shakes his head. When he finally speaks, it’s gruff.
“I’m just grabbing a hoodie,” Matt says. Then he’s gone, taking the stairs two at a time just like Luke did.
The rest of Jack’s friends re-emerge from the basement and start convening with Jack and Luke when they hear the front door open and shut. Quinn is still getting the dial tone in the kitchen. Cole suggests that you may have gone out for food or something. Trevor pipes up that it could’ve been a need for liquor that drove you out in this weather.
“I wouldn’t blame her if it was,” Alex comments lowly, and Trevor has the decency to look embarrassed. “Matt went pretty hard on her last night.”
“He knows he was out of line, and I think she does too,” Jack assures everyone. “Not that… I’ve talked to her today, or anything. But I just have a feeling that was the final fight, y’know? Something about it…” he trails off, shaking his head. “Nevermind. I’m probably crazy.”
You’ve successfully gotten yourself most of the way home when you see a familiar car heading your way on one of the many weirdly-named streets following the lakeshore. When you think you’re in their line of vision, you start raising your arm to wave for help. Then you see the face behind the wheel. Your hand drops of its own accord, and you move a step or two farther from the side of the road in case Matt decides he’s feeling extra cruel and wants to splash you or something.
He turns around somewhere and catches up to you as you’re about to cross the top of a cul-de-sak, cutting you off with a turn onto the street. You frown at the passenger side window, watching it roll down.
“Get in the car, Sunshine,” he says.
“But-”
“I’m not letting you get sick out here just because you want to stick it to me, okay? You get in here. I’ll get your bike.”
A couple of minutes later, the bicycle has been shoved into the trunk and backseat with an astounding lack of grace, and you’re sitting with your arms crossed up front as Matt turns the car around. The pounding rain almost completely covers up what he says to you as he gets back onto the main road.
“I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“No matter what issues we have, it was fucked of me to bring it up in front of everybody during the game,” he admits. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. And I’m really sorry for whatever I did two years ago to make you hate me like you do, because that was probably pretty fucked too.”
You sigh. “You didn’t… do anything.”
His foot twitches on the brake pedal; you feel the car stutter beneath you. Just like you feel him trying to watch both the road and your face, so you burrow back into your hood and look out your window.
“I didn’t do anything?”
“No.”
“Then why do you hate me?”
And you know it won’t be good enough, at all, but you shrug. How do you put it into words that your cousins poked and prodded you about how you would like Matt for almost years before you actually met? That Jack had asked you to not date any of his friends a long time ago and of course you wouldn’t disrespect his wishes, but you definitely agreed that if you were allowed to date this one, you might have gone for it?
How do you tell someone that you’ve had to hate them because you wouldn’t be allowed to love them?
So you mutter some snappy bullshit like “someone had to,” and try to leave it there.
“Tell me the truth, Sunshine.” Which is about what you expected.
“Did Jack or Quinn ever tell you how well they used to think we would get along?” you ask, folding your arms and leaning back in your seat but finally looking at him. He’s definitely been in the car for a bit now, but there are speckles and water marks even from before he got out to shove your bike in the back.
He thinks for a moment, then nods. “I think Jack said once that we would get along… that everybody loves you and I wouldn’t be any different.” His cheeks turn pink when he realizes the phrasing that he used. One hand automatically flies off the wheel to scratch the back of his neck. “Not that… you know what I mean.”
You only hum in response.
“What does that have to do with you hating me, though?”
“It was never really hate-” you start, but he cuts you off.
“Sure felt like hate.” You stay silent, waiting for him to notice that he’s pissed you off. He doesn’t even have to look over to know. “Sorry, go on.”
“It wasn’t really hate,” you insist, as he turns away from where you’re supposed to go. “It was… the rejection of like. Like how cold is just the absence of heat. You’re going the wrong way.”
“Indifference is the absence of like,” Matt corrects you, a little smug. “And we’re in the middle of a conversation that I don’t think we’re going to be able to have once you get back to that house.”
Your eyebrows furrow. He just nods at his phone, down in the cupholder, and you pick it up. Hold it out to him, but he shakes his head.
“The boys were worried about you. Get on there – password’s 129453 – and text Jack that you’re okay and I got you.” You quietly do as he says, waiting for another command. “And that we’ll be back soon, but we have to do something first.”
Jack knows it’s you because you told him so and he starts to ask questions. But you don’t have the answer to a lot of them. You just reassure him again that you’re safe, everything’s fine, you just wanted ice cream and there is absolutely no need to call any parents or beloved aunts about this.
Matt looks over at you, nodding for you to continue your original explanation. The rain keeps beating down on the car, a steady drum to drown out the sound of your heartbeat.
“Jack called it first,” you say. “Said you were just my type, that we’d get along like a house on fire, that kinda stuff. But he also said, back when he started the program with you and all the other guys, that he didn’t want me dating any of you either.” You laugh, trying to keep the bitterness out of the sound. Maybe you mostly succeed. “Because he knew that hockey players were just that – players.”
Matt purses his lips, but lets you keep talking.
“And it’s not like I’d be able to get to know any of you without him around, so I kinda just had to take him at his word for it, right?” you continue, feeling yourself starting to ramble. “Then we got here for the first summer. And Jack was right on the money. But I knew that if I really let myself start to like you-” you shrug. “-I’d be doing nothin’ but getting myself hurt by toeing the line that Jack set.”
Deep breath in, deep breath out. You keep going. “So I tried to ignore you. Not feel anything at all. That didn’t work, but I thought it would still be easier for me if we weren’t… close. I’m sorry that it turned into all this mess. I just wanted to protect myself.” You wrap your arms around yourself, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie up over your hands.
Matt drives on, silent for a minute. It stretches into two, three minutes until it’s almost comfortable. Then he turns sharply into a gas station parking lot on the corner. The car stays on when he parks away from everybody else on the side of the building, but he unbuckles and twists in his seat to face you.
“So you’re meaning to tell me – all this time, you just liked me and you were, no offense, a complete pest, as a front?” You nod.
He collapses back into his seat, running his hands through his hair and accidentally pushing his hood off in the process. It’s hard to ignore his long legs stretching in the little space they have, swim trunks riding up his thighs.
“You liked me,” he states again, simply. You nod again. His eyes dart to you, tongue tracing his lower lip, cheeks pink. “You… like me?”
It comes slower this time, and all your nervous energy manifests as your fingers playing with the hem of your sleeves, but you still nod. You aren’t sure that he’s looking at your eyes when you do it.
Then, he laughs. Your first instinct is to recoil a bit, especially if he’s laughing at your confession. Which would be cruel, but maybe earned. This is probably the worst way you could resolve every conflict from the past two years. It takes genuine effort to keep a straight face.
“You like me,” he says once more. “Have all this time.”
Something holds you back from responding, from making a defensive, sarcastic comment that would ruin whatever you’re building or rebuilding here. He speaks again, quieter still, barely audible over the weather outside.
“That makes so much more sense, looking back.”
And he looks back up at you, disbelief still written on his face. Then the mask cracks, and he smiles brighter than has ever been directed at you before.
“You know, one of Luke’s buddies asked me once why we flirted so different from you and all Jack’s other friends,” he admits, making your eyes widen.
“I mean, I wasn’t really trying to, but-” you stutter, feeling your face turn sunburn-red.
“If we agree that that’s what all this has been, I gotta say, you flirt like a little boy on the playground,” he teases you. You resist the urge to punch him in the shoulder just hard enough to walk the line of playful and mean.
“You’re no better!” you exclaim. There’s more you want to say, but Matt shuts you up by grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and pressing his lips to yours over the center console.
Instead of saying anything else, you sigh into the kiss. One of your hands finds itself slipping into his dark blond hair, tugging on the surprisingly soft strands. His other hand grabs your waist, squeezing ever so slightly. You take his bottom lip in between your teeth.
“Oh my god, you tease,” he scolds you, (smiling) as he pulls away for a second. If you didn’t know him as well as you somehow do, you’d be disappointed by him cutting you off this quick.
But he moves his seat back as far as he can, putting space between himself and the steering wheel. Then he’s grabbing at your hoodie, your back, your thighs – anything to urge you onto his lap.
You’re lucky the windows are tinted.
Once you’re settled, knees on either side of his thighs – which, honestly, aren’t leaving you very much room but why on earth would you fault him for that – he positions one hand gently on your cheek, stroking it absentmindedly with his thumb.
“I like you too, by the way,” he says, a goofy smile on his face. You raise your eyebrows in a silent question and he nods, closing his eyes in content as you weave your hands back into his hair. “All this time.”
Finally, he pulls your face back down to his, pressing his lips to yours so much more softly and awkwardly than a minute ago. You feel like a teenager having their first kiss again, but this time you know it’s perfect. This one feels like an exhale after years of holding your breath.
Matt pulls back and you pout, which makes him laugh and wrap his arms around your waist in a hug. Then he leans back in the seat again, big hands resting comfortably on your hips.
“What are you doing, you weirdo?” you ask, but you kind of mean why aren’t you kissing me anymore.
“Just admiring,” he replies, making you groan.
Since you so clearly need to take the initiative here, you lean forward and steal his lips in a kiss again. His breath catches when you nip him, this time, and you wonder why you didn’t just do this sooner. It’s so much better than the whole push-and-pull thing you’ve had going for the past couple of summers.
He presses you closer to him with one hand, deepening the kiss and using the other hand to pull down your hood and release your hair from its claw clip. In response, you pull on his again and he lets out this breathless little sound that you wanna hear at least five more times before he goes back home for summer training.
The two of you are interrupted by an obnoxious buzzing from the cupholder. Matt reaches over and grabs his phone without even moving you off of his lap.
You think you hear Jack’s voice on the other side, asking a series of questions that Matt barely has the time to answer before another three come out of your cousin’s big mouth.
“Yeah, she’s fine. Took her bike. We’re on the way home now. Do you guys need us to stop for anything?” Jack says something else, and a smile dances on Matt’s lips. “No, we’re all good now. I think the two of us will be more tolerable together from now on. We talked it out.”
Absentmindedly, you wipe a smudge of your tinted chapstick off the corner of his lips. He looks up at you for a second, winks, and runs his hand through his hair as he looks back toward the passenger side mirror.
“I promise, it’s chill,” he tells your cousin. “And she says she’s sorry for scaring you. Her phone just died when she was out.” It’s not a lie, you’re just surprised he realized. But maybe you shouldn’t be – the two of you have paid unnecessarily close attention to each other for a long time. Whether you realized it or not, you did get to know each other under the pretense of hatred. “Yeah, we’ll be back in time for dinner. Like I said, heading back soon. Uh-huh. See ya.”
Matt punctuates the end of the call by kissing you again, then pushes you back over the center console to your own seat while he readjusts.
“So…,” you trail off, back to playing with your sleeves. Matt looks at you, a smile already half-formed on his face. “What now?”
“We’ve got time to talk it out, right? Let’s just get back to the house first.” He reaches over, squeezing your leg. And he leaves his hand there as he pulls out of the gas station, for the rest of the drive, only letting go when the house is in sight.
He looks over at you again with a knowing smirk once he parks the car in the driveway.
“So. You still gonna pretend you hate me in there?”
You shrug, smiling, and jump out of the car. The door is mostly closed, but you hear him shout “hey!” after you as you dart off into the rain.
All eyes are on you once you open the front door.
And all it takes is one glance from you for Trevor to pump his fist and shout, “Yessss!” dragging it out victoriously. The rest of the boys catch on almost one-by-one. You can see the realization spread from Trevor and Luke to Quinn and Jack, then Alex and Cole as you feel Matt appear behind you in the entryway.
“Finally!” Trevor continues, throwing his hands up in the air. “It only took you idiots like three years!”
“Trevor, what-” Matt starts, moving out from behind you so he can take off his wet hoodie and toss it down the basement stairs toward the laundry.
While your not-so-much-anymore enemy gets an explanation for Trevor’s behavior, your cousins approach you and quietly usher you into the office. Jack shuts the door behind the four of you. This feels like a confrontation.
“You scared us pretty bad there, Sunshine,” Luke starts, crossing his arms and leaning back against Quinn’s desk.
“I am so sorry, you guys, it was a complete accident. I took a bike ride for ice cream, then my phone died. I was literally on my way back when Matt caught me,” you explain.
A random cheer sounds from the other room. It distracts Jack, who looked like he was about to start shooting off another round of questions. You silently thank Trevor.
“We’re just glad you’re okay, Sunshine, we promise.” Quinn’s first sentence is reassuring. Then he asks a not-really question that might be worse than whatever Jack had in mind. “What we’re wondering now is what’s going on with you and Matt. If you’ve made up and all.”
There hasn’t been enough time to define anything. You guys aren’t planning on fighting anymore, you don’t think. Still, what are you allowed to tell your cousins? The anxiety rising in your throat makes you cough. Jack’s eyes widen.
“You’re not getting sick, are you?” he questions, worrying aloud. “We should’ve let you change into dry clothes before we dragged you in here, our bad-”
“That would be great, thanks,” you reply decisively. “But we’re not going to ruin everybody else’s vacations anymore, if that’s what your concern is. Now-” you make eye contact with all three brothers before you finish. “-if anyone has any problem with me going to get warm, dry, and comfortable, please voice that now.”
“One last thing,” Jack says, nodding for the other two to go.
The two of you wait, facing each other, until the door closes behind Quinn. You sit down in one of the office chairs and cross your legs, waiting for Jack to speak. He sighs, tucking his hands under his armpits before looking up at you from beneath his backwards hat.
“Sunshine, I made a big mistake years ago. I was trying to look out for you when I asked you not to date my friends, because I thought they’d all be like Trevor… and me,” he admits.
You lean forward, definitely wanting to hear what he says next.
“I was wrong about Matt. He’s not a player, not like the rest of us. We’ve all been watching you two bicker and pine over each other for years now, and I know both of you like each other even if you won’t say it in those words. Not to me, at least.”
He takes a deep breath, making sure to really meet your eyes before his big finish.
“Please date Matt.”
“What?” you ask, trying not to laugh. “Are you like, asking me out in his place?”
It only takes you looking back at him for Jack to crack and start laughing. It was a weird phrasing. He knows that.
“I swear we’ve been driving him crazy, making him jealous ‘n’ trying to get him to confess but he wasn’t gonna say anything until you had gotten over whatever he’d done to you originally.”
“What he’d done? Oh no buddy, that was all you,” you tell Jack, and when he just makes a confused face you explain further. “Y’all were completely right when you said I’d like him and I did, but I also remembered that I wasn’t supposed to date your friends. Just wanted to be a good cousin, y’know?”
“I’m so sorry,” Jack says, covering the top half of his face with his facepalm. “I should’ve grown up about that ages ago.”
You agree. “You should’ve, but who knows how it would have gone back then. And we’re here now, right?”
Your (slightly idiotic but lovable) cousin nods along with wide eyes, probably hoping this will absolve him of guilt. “Seriously, though. I am sorry. And also please stop flirting with Trevor – you’re killing poor Bolds, over there.”
Finally, you laugh, getting up and throwing your arms around him. He holds you tight, just like the two of you used to hug when you were little. You used to say that if you never let go of each other, then your families would never be without each other again. It was cute then, but being mature now and knowing that you’ll have a strong bond whether you’re in the same state or you’re dating each other’s friends is much better, you think.
“Can we just make a pact that you guys – and I mean all of you – will hold off on meddling from now on? Please?”
“Will do,” Jack says quietly before releasing you. His eyes get a little twinkle in them when he inclines his head toward the door and says, “Now go get your man.”
“I think I’m gonna change first.”
“Right. That sounds… yeah. Go do that.”
Once you’re in dry clothes, you find Matt in his room, in the process of changing shirts even though his was barely touched by the rain.
“Hey,” you say, rapping your knuckles gently against his door. “We still need to talk, right?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, patting the bed next to him. “Close the door, if you’re allowed?”
You nod, heading over to where he directs you without a word. The two of you spend at least a minute shifting in various ways, trying to make this comfortable. Because somehow it worked so much better when you were making out in a car.
“So. There’s a lot to talk about.”
He nods enthusiastically, running a hand through still-damp hair. But he doesn’t actually speak. He waits for you to continue, to decide what you want to bring up.
“I guess… to start, Jack kind of finally gave us his blessing, but there’s a lot more I want to discuss with you before we act on anything like that. Like all the ways you were complaining to Trevor about me a couple nights ago. That stuff… it didn’t sound like a guy with a crush,” you admit, avoiding his widening eyes by fiddling with the hem of your shirt.
“What all did you hear?” he questions, voice low.
“That you couldn’t stand me,” your throat tightens, but you force the words out. “How we could never be nice to each other, not in a million years, so you were going to start actively hating me. The way that I just drive you crazy, apparently.”
His hands enter your line of vision. One cups your cheek. The other gently tugs at your own hand until you let him envelop it in his. The hand partly cupping your chin is equally gentle, tilting your head up so you look at him. His eyes are almost glassy.
“Sunshine, you have to listen to me when I say that I was going crazy that night. I thought I’d fooled myself into thinking that you actually liked me the night before, and I hated myself for it more than anything. But you weren’t around, and you were an easy excuse, so I took it out on you there. I can’t forgive myself for it, so I’m not going to ask you to do it either. But you are missing a little bit of context.”
Matt closes his eyes briefly to take a quick breath. “I couldn’t be around you without trying to find some sign that could give me hope that we’d get over our rivalry, or whatever it was. I said you’re too out of reach, that you would never like me at all, let alone like that.”
“I pretended Trevor was being the really crazy one, but it was all me. But I still shouldn’t have said any of that, and I’m so sorry. Especially that you had to hear it,” he finishes.
“Thank you,” you tell him softly. “I really appreciate you admitting that.” Then you continue. “I have to apologize too. For all these years of teasing and taunting you, for trying to let you know that I heard you… literally in front of everyone else during Scum, where we couldn’t actually talk about it. That was uncool of me. I could’ve handled everything a lot better since we met. I should have. You…” You trail off once before you finally manage to get the words out. “Maybe you deserve someone who can handle all of their feelings like, I dunno, a grown-up.”
And this time, when you look up, you see that he really is tearing up a little bit. But he’s smiling. And he’s shaking his head. “I don’t want a grown-up, Sunshine. I want you. Have since we met.”
You giggle. It’s a little choked out, a little wet from making it around the lump that formed in your throat, but you get it out.
“Don’t tell Jack that,” you tell him. “He’ll be insufferable about being right.”
“God, I know,” Matt groans, falling back onto the bed and almost pulling you with him. “He’s just the worst about that, isn’t he?”
“We can’t forget Trevor,” you say. “He’s gonna be so bad too.”
He groans again, more muffled as he drags a hand down his face. “I’d say we shouldn’t date or change how we act just to fuck with ‘em, but it’s too late for that, isn’t it?”
You’ve swallowed whatever was building in your throat and started to dry your face before you reply, “Jack already asked me out on your behalf, actually, so no, I don’t think that’d work at all. Nice thought, though.”
“That’s kind of humiliating,” he points out. “Your cousin and my friend who told you to stay away from me got so sick of us acting like little kids around each other that he just – what, said ‘please date Matt’?”
“Bingo.”
This elicits a third groan from him, and he rolls over a little bit to sit back up. “You’re not serious.”
“Dead. Cross my heart. Swear it, all that stuff.”
When he falls back onto the bed like the drama queen you’ve always known he is, you follow. Matt re-opens his eyes to find you leaning over him. So he wraps his arms around you and pulls you down to lay on top of him, your faces just inches apart.
“Worry about it later?” he asks, distracted by your sudden proximity (as if it isn’t his doing).
A second passes, but you nod and lower your face to press your lips to his. Just like last time, it feels like breathing fresh air. It feels right.
Maybe it would escalate. Maybe you and Matt would realize that you’re not in a car and you have some space to move around a little, but your lovely baby cousin knocks something against the wall in his room next door and ruins the moment. When you separate, though, Matt stills holds you close, his forehead meeting yours as you both catch your breath.
“Don’t make fun of me,” he mutters, making you open your eyes. When he continues his voice is breathy. “...but, wow.”
You feel a smirk spreading across your face before you can stop it.
“Hey, I said don’t make fun of me!”
Time passes without you getting into an argument with Matt. Not in front of the boys, not at all. But neither of you clarify what’s changed between the two of you either. So by day three of peace and quiet, some of them are understandably tense.
You and Matt are sitting out on the deck together during nap time when you hear the blinds hitting the other side of the door. The sound puts both of you on alert – making you look up from your book, Matt open his eyes from his half-nap.
“‘d you think it’s the guys?” he asks quietly, glancing back toward the house.
“Probably,” you shrug. “Made Jack promise not to meddle, but I doubt they can go this long without being nosy.” You look up at him over your book. “Not like there’s anything to tell, right? We’re kind of just… kissing. On occasion.”
He blinks slowly. “Yeah. I guess so.” Despite the agreement, his brows furrow. “And… you’re cool with just doing that?”
“If you are,” you respond. The air is growing heavy with the sudden awkwardness of trying to address whatever’s going on between you two now. Clearly, neither of you are the best at actually talking about your emotions, and that doesn’t seem like it’s going to change just because the feelings did.
Matt sits up, slow and lazy, reaching over to force you to lower your book.
“I don’t think I’m cool with that,” he says, voice quiet. “Sunshine, I’d like to actually date you. Take you out for dinner or something, make it kinda special and all that.”
“Make it special, huh?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.
His face reddens, but he nods. “Jack did ask you to date me, right? Not just ‘kiss me on occasion’?” He makes finger quotes as he reuses your words, then waits for your head to bob once in affirmation before standing. “Okay. Be ready at seven.”
And with that, he’s heading back inside. The situation reminds you a little bit of that night at the party. But better. This time, the fireworks in your stomach are mixed with butterflies instead of nausea. This time things are working out, you think.
Voices float out from the door when he opens it. Trevor, you recognize, and Luke. At least the two of them are converging on Matt inside, asking for clarification on why there’s no more fighting if you two aren’t officially a thing yet. Maybe Jack is there too. He’d probably be more defensive of you than your younger cousin, the ‘must defend her honor’ type. You hope for Matt’s sake that he’s still asleep or eating or doing literally anything else.
Trevor must somehow have a sixth sense for when things are happening between you and his old friend. Because as soon as you head up to your room to get ready for whatever’s being planned, he follows.
“So,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you as you start ruffling through your closet. “Matt asked me for restaurant recommendations tonight.”
“Okay?”
“C’mon, just admit that he’s finally really going after you. We all know how long he’s wanted to, and I’m pretty sure the last few days have put him as on edge as your cousins.”
His words make you frown. “Why are they worried? It has nothing to do with them.”
Trevor tsks, shaking his head dramatically. His hair falls into his face, so he has to brush it away. “Sunshine, Sunshine, Sunshine. Do you know what happened the last time you two were this quiet around each other, civil or otherwise?”
Even though you start to answer with a sigh, he cuts you off. “You went missing in the middle of a storm. Freaked out all of us pretty bad, especially your cousins and Matt.”
“He was freaked out?”
“Oh yeah. Went so quiet, just threw on a hoodie and headed out to find you without, like, a word to the rest of us. Almost like he knew where you were or something.” The way your friend answers makes it seem as if he doesn’t think too much of it, just knows that it indicates that Matt has feelings for you.
You, on the other hand, are struck by that last little admission. He did know where you were. Even that day in the rain, you’d had a feeling that he’d have found you even if you had stayed at the ice cream shop, but now you know.
And the warm fuzzy feeling grows in your chest until it’s spreading through the rest of your body, forcing you to hide your smile from Trevor behind the closet door.
“Did he tell you what we’re doing?” you question.
He nods.
“Can I know?”
He shakes his head. Heaving another deep sigh, you turn to him with a hand on your hip. “Trevor, I at least need to know what to dress for. Can I have that much?”
“You’ll be moving around a little bit, but I’m pretty sure you can wear a skirt without worrying about it. Like, no jumping or anything crazy.”
“This- you make it sound so weird,” you comment, and Trevor just shrugs.
Still, you follow his advice even after you shoo him out of the room once more to really put something on. It keeps feeling strange – you’ve never dressed to get Matt’s attention before. You have no idea what he likes besides being pretty sure he likes you. But that’s not helpful.
There’s a knock on your door as soon as you’ve found your outfit, and you make the person wait until it’s on to enter. It turns out to be Jack.
“Hey, Sunshine,” he says casually, trying to hide the way his eyes widen when he sees your change of clothes. “Whatcha up to?”
“Going out tonight,” you say simply, because if Matt didn’t tell your cousins and friends then there must be a reason. “Why?”
“Just…be safe,” he replies. “Might be another storm coming in tonight. We really can’t have you getting sick. Mom would never forgive us.” You’re pretty sure he’s figured out that something is going on, but he’s just being sweet now.
You smile at him. “I will,” you promise him softly. “No more getting lost in bad weather, I understand.”
He looks like he might want to say something, but instead he just pulls you into a hug with a short nod. There he is, you think to yourself. This is the cousin that would insist upon walking your seven-year-old self down the aisle whenever you roped the boys into playing wedding with you. The one who promised to look after you forever because even if you would always be older, he’d get bigger and stronger.
So you squeeze him just that little bit tighter before you let go.
Matt isn’t in his room when you look, and he’s not in any of the common spaces. Eventually a confused Alex takes pity on you and directs you out to the driveway. You don’t see him by any of the cars, so you call his name.
“Hey!” he responds, popping up from the other side of his car. “You’re- um, you-” Tripping over his words, he has to take a moment to collect his thoughts before he can talk. “You look great, Sunshine.”
“Not so bad yourself,” you respond with an exaggerated wink. “What are you up to out here?”
Still seeming a little nervous, he gestures at his car. “Just… cleaning it up before you get back in. You know, since we’re going on an actual date and all.” The admission makes you smile. He keeps talking. “And, if you’re ready to go, we can head out. Starting to look like we might be on a bit of a time crunch with the weather and all.”
Matt gestures to the sky, rounding the car to open the passenger side door for you. He holds it open until you get there. At which point he promptly leaves you alone in the car to toss the garbage bag he’d been throwing his car trash in.
The ride to… wherever you’re going is awkward. Conversations are short, fading out quickly. Even though the two of you have managed to coexist peacefully for a little bit now, you still don’t really know how to interact with each other. Just be.
“So what are you gonna do now that you’ve graduated?” Matt asks at one point after being seated at the hole-in-the-wall, local secret pizzeria that he chose for dinner.
You shrug. “Look for jobs at home, I guess. Maybe around here, but that’d probably mean staying with Auntie Ellen for a bit and I’m not sure that would work.”
He nods in understanding. The conversation dies.
Later, you try starting something. “How do you think your team’s gonna be this season?”
“Well,” he says, brows furrowing in thought, “You always want to be better than you were, right? But with so many guys coming and going between seasons, it’s hard to know what kinda chemistry the lines will have on-ice.”
This time, you’re the one nodding like you get it. And you kinda do. But since you’re not a hockey player yourself, you don’t quite understand it at the same level as, say, anyone else at the lake house would.
Overall, dinner is pretty smooth, but the conversation doesn’t come easy. And the sky has definitely darkened prematurely since you went inside the place. Matt opens your door again, then the two of you are back in the car with only a Spotify playlist filling the air between you. The distinct awkwardness of the situation almost makes you giggle.
“We already know kind of a lot about each other, huh?” you think aloud, looking over to see his face bathed in the red of the brake lights in front of you. He smiles at you, hand reaching for yours over the console.
“Yeah,” he says, “I guess we do.”
There was more on your mind, but you cut yourself off with a little gasp as Matt pulls into a parking lot. The parking lot of a mini golf course, to be exact. His smile turns fond when you grab his arm excitedly with your free hand.
“Mini golf?” you half-ask, half-exclaim. “Matt!”
He shrugs bashfully. “I know you used to love it, and you probably haven’t gotten to do it much recently.”
“No,” you say happily, in agreement. Then your face turns to a pout. “All of y’all got too caught up in boring full-sized golf.” If it were even possible, you’d say that his smile only grows at your words. From pride, maybe, or endearment. “This is the best surprise date ever!” you continue, shaking his arm.
“I’m glad,” he chuckles, leaning over to gently touch his forehead to yours before leaving to help you out of the car.
The contrast between pizzeria and mini golf is stark. Playing a game brings out a competitive side in both of you, maybe the side that helped you form your strange bond in the first place. And each of you are fully convinced that you will come out victorious.
“Watch this!” you call to Matt before sending your brightly-colored ball into a tunnel that should shoot it out as a hole in one. He watches closely, and is very obviously trying not to laugh when it gets stuck in said tunnel and you have to ask if he’ll use his turn to help you out.
“Maybe next time, Sunshine,” he teases after the two of you free your ball, patting you on the back.
Though you try to glower at him, the expression doesn’t hold. It quickly dissolves into a grin and a giggle.
Surrounded by laughter and fake palm trees, the two of you manage to tie up the score by the sixteenth hole. Then something flashes in the distance. A low rumble follows, making some of the parents start herding their families to the exits immediately.
You exchange a look with Matt. “Keep going until they tell us to stop?” you ask, holding up a fist.
“Abso-freaking-lutely,” he answers, bumping his fist into yours.
Of course, the intercom chooses this exact moment to crackle to life and project a wobbly teenage voice commanding all guests to exit the course, but pick up a coupon for another free game on the way out due to the unfortunate weather-related circumstances.
Both you and Matt sigh, but have little choice other than to follow the instructions given.
“This sucks,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets along with the free game coupon. “We might not even get time to use this thing before it expires.”
“Hey,” you say, reaching to tug one of his hands into your own. “I still had fun tonight. Thank you.” He starts smiling at you just as the sky opens and the first raindrops start hitting your head and shoulders. An idea hits you. You let go of his hand, ignoring the offended look he shoots you. “Race you to the car!”
And he may have longer legs, but you have a headstart.
The clouds aren’t the only reason why the sky is dark when Matt pulls back into the driveway. There may have been another impromptu gas station stop, but you’d never admit to it. Glancing outside, you hesitate to get out of the car.
“C’mon, Sunshine, you’re already soaked,” Matt tries to urge you. “Let’s just get in there.” Your gaze redirects to him, a smirk spreading across your face, and he rolls his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Silently, you start getting comfortable: unbuckling your seatbelt, leaning back in your seat, pulling out your phone. Your clothes just started feeling kind of dry again – why should you ruin it? It barely fazes you when the driver’s side door opens and closes. Then your door opens, and you jump a little.
Matt holds out a hand. “Are you coming inside with me or what?”
Sure, it’s no Prince Charming moment. But it’s your Matt. Only a second or so passes before you slip your phone into a pocket and slide off the seat until your feet hit the ground.
It’s still pouring out. There’s no way around that.
But the streetlights and the lanterns next to the front door are casting warm light over the pavement through the apparent wall of rain. Suddenly, you stop caring about the possibility of getting wet entirely.
Matt doesn’t flinch when you surge up to kiss him. He smiles into it, closing your car door for you and leaning down so you can wrap your arms around his neck. One of his hands finds your face in the semi-dark, his thumb moving back and forth, accidentally rubbing in the cold raindrops that fell there.
It doesn’t matter that you’re cold. It doesn’t matter that it’s after dark on a summer night. It doesn’t matter that your cousins and all of Matt’s friends are still awake, just inside.
All that matters is you and Matt, holding each other close in the face of everything else going on right now.
“Does this mean I win?” you ask cheekily when the two of you part.
The space between Matt’s brows crinkles for just a second before realization flashes across his face and he’s shaking his head. “Naw, Sunshine. If I’m here kissing you right now, I think it means I won.”
“Okay,” you murmur, stepping in closer to him so you’re almost completely in his space, “What’s your prize of choice then?”
“I have you, don’t I?”
You look up at him, eyes shining in the light like the puddles forming in the yard. “You mean that?”
Matt’s arms come down to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you even more into his chest and tucking your head under his chin. He’s about to say something else when a door opens and a voice calls into the night.
“Get in here, idiots! You’re gonna get hypothermia or whatever!”
Jack’s voice joins Cole’s. “You’re so gross! This is worse than when you were fighting!”
You and Matt exchange a look then burst out laughing. But you head into the house nonetheless, hand-in-hand, prepared to defend each other against the ruthless barrage of teasing all of your friends have prepared.
After all, only the two of you are allowed to antagonize each other.
to the TikTok editor who made an edit and captioned it: “gender is NOT the same as sex. gender is what you identify as, while sex is what I’m having with luke hughes tonight. stay informed.”
theartofmadeline
snowghoul
titsay
izzy806
jacobvanloon
romaincrisis
areudirty
annaxmalina
origamiaround
