Captain’s Bet:
Quinn Hughes x Amanda ‘Trouble’ Hamilton
Summary: Quinn broke up with his girlfriend and to get him back on the saddle, Brock and Lizzie try to set him up with Brock’s childhood best friend, who’s known for being trouble thinking that maybe some chaos in Quinn’s life will help him get over his ex. The friendship starts a little rocky, but eventually the fine line of love and hate is crossed when they make a secret bet between the two to get their friends off their backs about dating and trying to change Trouble’s view on love.
Warnings: mentions of cheating, bad past relationships, accusations of being a slut (male/female- we do NOT slut shame here), relationship started as a bet, messy break up, unhealthy coping mechanisms, cursing, suggestive comments and scenes.
A/N 1: heart breaker oc, I will NOT write smut. Inaccurate hockey descriptions (I’m trying, I’m still new to the hockey world)
A/N 2: if you don’t like this fic, I don’t really give a fuck. This is for myself and I won’t be bullied or whatever by some anonymous asshole. If you got something to say, say it with your chest.
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Word count: 2k+
I sat on the barstool at the island in the kitchen at the Boeser household.
I held my hand to my head trying to put pressure on the appending headache I was sure to have along with scrapes and bruises from my tumble to the hard concrete.
Liz gave me a friendly smile as she handed over an ice pack and pain meds.
The smile quickly turned into a smirk when Brock finally sat down beside me as Elias took the other seat.
“So,” she drags the word out, playful and knowingly, “I heard you met Trouble today.”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘met’, but okay,” I popped my shoulders, moving the ice to my other hand to let the other warm up.
“Well she pranked you, which in Trouble language means she likes you,” laughed Brock, patting me on the shoulder gently.
“Oh so this is playground bullshit, should I pull her pigtail next time I see her? Maybe push her down the slide,” I sassed, brows cocked in question.
“No, but usually she’s really shy when meeting new people or anyone in the league.”
“Why?”
“Trouble knows what she looks like to the community and doesn’t wanna play to that standard.”
Lizzie hands each of us at the island a cup of coffee, turns away and gets creamer and sugar from the fridge and cabinets before placing those on the counter too.
“What standard?”
The trio rolled their eyes at my question. Brock grabs the creamer and pours some into his mug and offers Elias and me the container.
I take it from his hands and pour a little into my own mug, and look at Elias before giving the creamer to him.
Lizzie places out plates and nods to the stove, where she’s prepared a buffet of breakfast foods for us.
She makes her own plate before sitting down on the other side of Brock.
He leans over and kisses her cheek as a ‘thank you.’
“Blonde hair, blue eyes, and hangs out with hockey players… do the math Huggy,” sassed Brock, taking a pull of his coffee.
I popped my brow, opening my mouth to comment when Liz beat me to it.
“Please, Trouble is anything but a puck bunny,” replied Lizzie, shaking her head as she laughs.
Brock stands and makes his own plate, Elias following his lead and doing the same.
“I know that and she does too, but Trouble doesn’t want to get seen as one. Once the media and fans see her with us then the rumors and all that fun shit will start.”
“Is that why we’ve never met her, until today I mean,” asked Elias as he scooped up some eggs and put them on his plate.
Brock nods, taking the spoon from him and adding eggs to his already hefty plate.
“I keep telling Trouble that the team would love her, but she just doesn’t want the drama and ridicule that comes with being a friend of someone famous.”
Brock sits back down after grabbing forks and lays two on the counter, one for Elias and the other for me.
Elias takes the silverware and sits in his spot at the island again.
“I thought she said that she’s been to games before? How’d she sneak up to the family box without being seen,” I questioned with my brows popped.
“Trouble doesn’t go up there, she’s in the crowd with Lizzie,” Brock pops a shoulder as he takes a bite of his eggs.
Liz nods, takes a pull of her coffee before speaking, “Yeah, when I can convince her to come to the games she’s right by my side in the crowd with either a funny sign or a fathead of him to get Brock’s attention.”
“We see him skate over to you and always thought that the woman next to you was a fan,” laughed Elias.
“Hiding under plain sight,” nods Brock as he takes another bite.
I stand and make my way over to the plates and silverware to grab some breakfast.
“Plus we don’t really post with her and we respect her wish on being left out of pictures and tags.”
I settle back into my barstool and take a bite, nodding my head in understanding. Elias hums his agreement as he drinks his coffee.
The couple share a smirk before Lizzie turns to face me as best she can given the wall her husband is.
“Maybe if a certain someone, I don’t know, say a Captain of a hockey team were to ask her, she’d go support him from the family box?”
The blond idiots laugh at her blunt proposal.
I popped a brow, “No, she’s your guys’ friend, you ask her.”
Lizzie sighs loudly, “C’mon Quinn, you're her type! She’d have a really hard time saying no to you!”
“Yeah, she would, Trouble can’t say no to guys that look like you,” added Brock with a laugh.
I laugh as I shake my head, “Absolutely not. I don't see that happening you guys. Can we talk about something else now?”
The couple sighs loudly, as if disappointed, but lets us change the conversation to anything other than Trouble. I saw the look exchanged between Brock and Lizzie and knew that it would come up again.
But I was determined to shut the idea down. There was no need to hurry and find a new girlfriend, not after how badly the last one ended.
I wasn’t looking, I didn’t want another relationship either. At this point it would just be a rebound, a mistake that can only end in heartbreak.
Even if I really did like her, it's just too soon anyway. Trouble’s a nice girl, someone I can maybe see something starting with, but it’s not gonna happen.
And if something did and it ended badly, then Brock and Lizzie would have to pick sides, something that I don’t want to happen and I’m sure neither does she.
I shake my head to clear those thoughts.
I need to focus on the season, that’s what’s important right now, not my disastrous love life.
After we ate, Brock, Elias, and I helped Lizzie clean the leftovers and put away dishes before we sat in the living room and watched film of a recent game.
Hours passed and it was lunch time, Lizzie offered to make us something but Elias and I declined.
I had things to do back at my apartment before the day was over, so I said my goodbyes and left.
When I arrived back home, I put my duffle away and threw myself on the couch.
I thought back to this morning when I met Trouble and what Brock and Lizzie said, about me being her type.
I’m not saying Trouble’s not unattractive, but I’m the wrong guy if she wants to stay out of the spotlight and the puck bunny image.
I mean, really, I’m the absolute worst guy for that.
I’m captain of the team, my brothers and I are always in the media.
She’d have to be a ghost not to be seen with us and that’s not fair on either of our parts.
Why am I even worried about this, nothings gonna happen. I think, rolling my eyes.
The whole night is spent trying to come up with ways to make her hate me. I know this will put a crack in my friendship with Brock and Lizzie, but so will Trouble and I dating.
If we end up together and break up, they’ll have to choose and I don’t wanna be the reason for that.
And if that bonehead Brock can see the obvious attraction we have for each other, then everyone else can too.
Damn it!
The next morning was Hell to say the least. I got maybe an hour or two of sleep while my mind ran scenarios on several different things. The most of which were of her and this morning.
Looking back now, I can’t help but laugh. It was a good prank, I’ll give her that. Jack and Luke would be on the ground rolling if they saw or heard about it.
As I get ready to go to the arena, I’m hoping that Brock or Elias hasn’t told the team about my meeting Trouble. I can take the chirps from both of them, but the team will be on my ass for months.
Or until they badger Brock enough and meet her themselves. Which could take a while the way he tells it. Trouble isn’t willing to be in the limelight yet, or at all.
When I get in the locker room, I can tell by the smirks on their faces that they know. Rolling my eyes as Brock jogs to me, slapping a hand to my back and laughs.
“So I told the team about the little prank Troubs pulled yesterday,” he pointed out.
“Couldn’t tell,” I sassed, nodding my head as he laughed again.
“Oh don’t be like that Huggy! It’s just a harmless prank,” he jested. Patting my back playfully as he went back to his own cubby to get ready for practice.
I rolled my eyes, setting down my duffle roughly and started getting ready myself. As soon as my skates hit the ice, my mind focuses on what coach wants us to work on before our next game.
It only lasts a few minutes as we’re all gathered around Tocchet as he explains what drills we’re doing and breaking off into groups to run them that the chirps start.
At first it’s just Brock and Elias, but the others join in too when they see that I’m getting frustrated and getting me out of my game.
All through the rest of practice anytime any of the guys were beside me they would let a chirp out.
‘Ooo, you missed that easy shot, mind somewhere else Huggy?’
‘What’s going on in that head of yours? Thinking about someone special?’
And a lot of other things that distracted me from being my best. At the end of practice, Tocchet took me aside to talk about my performance today.
Tocchet has his arms folded against his chest, brows furrowed as a disappointed look crosses his features.
“Hughes, what was that? I’ve seen you hit that pass perfectly a thousand or more times, what’s going on in that head of yours that's causing you to miss the easiest plays? You better clean up your act before our next game, otherwise you’ll be on the bench watching,” coach sighs heavily, patting my back and ushering me to the locker room.
As soon as I entered the guys had smirks on their faces, I glared at each one of them. When I’m at my locker I start taking off my equipment, throwing them roughly into my duffle bag.
My anger clouds my eyes, making me jump a little bit in surprise as an arm settles onto my shoulder. Glancing to my side to see the man that caused this chaos in the first place.
Brock’s lips are pulled into a smirk, brows raised in humor as he watches for my reaction. I rolled my eyes, shrugging off his arm and continued to shove my gear into the bag.
The blond chuckles, patting me on the back in good nature. When I’m done packing up my things, storming out and to my car, throwing my bag in the backseat and taking off in a rush.
Losing my focus over a girl isn’t something I do and getting my ass handed to me by Tocchet wasn’t a habit I wanted to get used to. The radio blares as I drive, trying to get my mind off of her.
I wish Brock never introduced us. Then I wouldn’t be so distracted and could keep my head in the game.
The chirps from the team getting to me more than they should’ve. Before I know it, I’m parking in my apartment complex, running a frustrated hand through my hair and down my face, letting a heavy groan pass my lips.
I changed gears to park, got out and grabbed my bag, walked to the elevator and pressed the button to my floor. As the elevator dings as it passes each floor, I rest my head against the back wall, looking up as if an answer is there on what to do about this situation.
The elevator stops, opening and leads to the hallway. I absentmindedly walk to my apartment, unlock the door and head in. A plan brewing to get them off my back about everything, my ex, Trouble, playing like shit at practice today.
I need to get her to hate me, or at least dislike me. Brock and Lizzie will stop trying to push us together if they see that there’s nothing between us. I’ll be rude and distant, avoiding her and ignoring Brock’s not so subtle ways to get us closer.
The next time I see Trouble, which will most likely be a setup by Brock’s hand, I’ll put on a show, teaching him to stop meddling in my life.
I don’t need this, what I do need is to stay focused. Which is difficult with those two scheming up plans for Trouble and me.
Brock makes me feel like I have to constantly be watching behind my back, ready for anything they might try and throw at me while I’m not looking.
I’m already tense from the pressure of being Captain and having to guide the team to get better in hopes to get a place in the playoffs this season.
This added stress doesn’t help, it makes things worse. My mind keeps switching from thoughts about the game, Trouble, and my ex so much I feel like I’m getting whiplash.
Throwing my bag somewhere near the door as I walk to the couch and plop on the cold cushions, running a hand through my disheveled hair, groaning.
My phone dings from a text, sitting up and turning on the screen to read the preview.
Brock: Hey man, I was just poking fun earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you’d get a kick outta it and give us shit back…
I think for a moment, not really angry about the chirps, but the situation at hand. Taking the time to read the message again before opening the app and answering him.
Brock: Hey man, I was just poking fun earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you’d get a kick outta it and give us shit back. No hard feelings? Some of the guys are going out for drinks later, you in? It’s the usual place.
Quinn: I’m not mad, just have a lot on my plate right now. The only thing keeping my mind off of everything that happened with my ex is hockey.
A night out might help clear my head a little, help me relax and get ready for tomorrow. I get off the couch and make my way to my bedroom, walking to the bathroom attached and starting the shower.
Before jumping in the stream of water, I reply to Brock then set my phone on the counter.
Quinn: drinks sound good, what time?
I turn on some music on Alexa and open the curtains, stepping in. The hot water almost immediately relaxes my tense muscles. The shower isn’t long, maybe ten minutes before I get out and wrap a towel over myself.
I’m halfway dressed when my phone lights up with a text from Brock.
Brock: Cool see you around eight.
Drying my hair with one hand as I thumbs up the message, finishing getting ready for the night.
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