when did you get hot?
when did you get hot -- d.di laurentis ---- as garrett graham's little sister you've known the hockey boys since you were in high school and now that youre in sophomore year of college you've decided to transfer to briar u. what the boys didn't know about you was that you had definitely grown up. word count: 3.3k playlist: -- when did you get hot by sabrina carpenter -- bad idea right? by olivia rodrigo -- bed chem by sabrina carpenter
The porch buzzed under your feet like it was ready to give out at any moment. The music was shitty and loud enough for people to hear a block down. That should’ve been your first cue to leave.
You stood outside your brother’s infamous house and contemplated actually going in. Girls in tiny skirts and guys with backwards hats competed to blackout first around you, shoving in and out of the door. That was reason #1 you had avoided this night for three months. Your phone buzzing in your purse shook you out of your thoughts, Garrett’s contact name popped up on your screen as soon as you looked.
dumbass graham: Where r u?
you: outside of ur house contemplating disowning you as my brother
dumbass graham: You are so dramatic
dumbass graham: Get inside or im sending logan
You sighed at your brother's message, shoving your phone back into your sparkly purse before smoothing your dress down for the millionth time. The dress was fine. A little more than fine, maybe. Tight in all the right places and deep red and just short enough that made you take a double take. You had tried on four before your roommates found this one and practically forced it upon you. They had told you it was going to give hot transfer and not slutty puck bunny but you still weren’t sure about it.
The door swung open in front of you before you could change your mind and run away and John Logan popped out, grabbing your wrist.
“There you are. Were you planning on standing there all night?” Garrett said, standing at the door, as Logan pulled you through.
The second you were in the house you hated it. The smell of beer, boys, bad music, and hockey hit you like a semi truck and you wrinkled your nose. Your brother laughed at your put out expression and continued dragging you with him and Logan despite you slapping at his arm. Girls and guys looked your way, wondering who the new girl with the Briar U superstars were.
That's why you originally hadn’t chosen Briar. You wanted somewhere you could be something other than Garrett Graham’s little sister and Phil Graham’s daughter. Everyone knew your dad and your brother, because everyone knew hockey. You hated that. You hated hockey. You had escaped for something different. Ireland. Which was safe and different until it wasn’t.
“Look who we found loitering on the porch” Your brother said while chuckling to his friends standing in the kitchen. You finally looked up. Tucker was the first you made eye contact with and he pulled you in for a hug before you knew it. Then your eyes hit Dean Di Laurentiis.
Dean was leaning against the counter with a red solo cup and a stupid smile gracing his features. Somewhere between your senior year of high school and this party Dean stopped looking like another one of your brother’s idiot teammates and started looking like a walking talking issue for your focus. He’d gotten hotter. And taller. And bigger. You had to take a second to ask yourself if this really still is your big brother’s asshole friend Dean. His arms stretched his gray t-shirt and when his eyes locked on you something in them sharpened with sudden interest.
“Y/N, you remember the guys,” Garrett said, oblivious to your reaction as always. “You remember, Logan, Tucker, Dean, obviously, and that’s Beau.”
Beau lifted his glass and smiled in greeting. Your brother was rambling on about Hannah and Ally and wanting you to meet them. You had never heard of your brother having a serious girlfriend but that made you all the more excited to meet her.
“Oh shit, Wellsy’s here!”
Logan pointed to two pretty girls walking into the door behind you and went with Garrett to go get them. Traitors. You thought. Now it was you, Dean, Tucker, and Beau. You hoped they were enough of a buffer that you wouldn’t freak out at the thought of being this close to Dean.
“Do you want a drink?” Beau said from your side, laughing at the look on your face like he knew exactly who you were freaking out about.
“Please.”
Beau stepped around Dean and to the fridge just as Tucker walked out of the kitchen to go talk to a girl he saw in the distance. You moved toward Beau to get the drink he was holding out but Dean beat you to it, stepping in front of you to hand you the drink himself. Beau smiled into his cup, knowing exactly what the look in Dean’s eyes meant. Dean’s eyes looked you up and down slowly and a familiar heat creeped up onto your face, before his mouth tilted into a mischievous smirk.
“When did you get hot, Graham?”
Instead of blushing or swooning at the sentence you found yourself in a fight of laughter. Not soft giggles either, loud, loud laughter that had tears coming to your eyes. Dean always found a way to remind you he hadn’t changed. He was still just another hockey player. An unbelievably charming and hot hockey player, but a hockey player still.
“God, do all hockey players have such shitty lines or is it just you D?” You got out between fits of laughter. Dean blinked at you, clearly not expecting that reaction. Beau joined you laughing. Dean was quick to recover though and his stunned look turned into a shit eating grin.
“There she is.”
Your eyebrows lifted, “There who is?”
“The girl who met me once and immediately told me hockey was a cult?”
“It is a cult. I stand by that” You grinned back at him, shrugging lightly.
“It’s a sport.”
“You literally live together.”
“That’s brotherhood, little G.”
“You all share one brain cell, no original nicknames or ideas.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname, Garrett had the dumbest nicknames for you and his friends always picked up on them.
Dean stepped closer to you and you took a step back, hitting the counter. He looked entirely too entertained and entirely too attractive. Beau had left somewhere in the middle of your stupid conversation without a word, and you suddenly realized you had stopped paying attention to anything besides him.
“Dean.” You said softly, trying to get any words out before you were too flustered to say anything. His eyes locked into yours and your blush was ten tones deeper. He leaned one arm on the counter beside you, keeping the other side open, like he was letting you have the option of escaping, but you stayed put where you were.
“Yes, Y/N?” Dean’s shit eating grin was still plastered on his face which meant he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Do you think if I left this party right now my brother would send a search party out?”
“Graham, I think if you tried to leave this party right now before meeting Hannah your brother would send the campus police after you.” You tried to focus on anything but the way you could feel his breath on you or his hand inches away from your waist.
“Do you like her?”
“Who? Wellsy?” You nodded, trying to change the subject. And if Dean noticed he didn’t do anything to stop it.
“Yeah, Garrett likes her a lot. She’s really good for him.” Dean pauses. “Are you still with that guy from Ireland?”
Your eyes moved from your brother and Hannah making their way to the kitchen back to Dean. You hadn’t realized you didn’t delete those pictures.
“Oh, uh no. I’m not.” You had dated Ernie for 6 months while you were in Ireland. 6 months of telling your family about him and bragging and posting him. 6 months of him cheating on you with your roommate. But you didn’t tell anyone that last part.
“His loss.” Dean got the hint to change the subject when all you did was hum in response. “Do you still hate us?”
“Hockey?” You corrected. “Yes. Deeply. Passionately. For the rest of my life.”
“You know it’s your families whole personality right?”
“And look how that turned out.”
Dean laughed again. Not the same as before, when he was tyring to flirt. It was softer. More real. And you laughed with him.
“You know,” He said thoughtfully, “Last time I saw you was when you were yelling at Tucker and Logan for eating all your tiramisu.”
“Hey, I had spent like 3 hours making that” You said, trying to be serious and failing immediately. A big grin taking over your features. “I stand by my reaction.”
“I still can’t believe you were making tiramisu at 17.”
You shrugged. “Some people develop useful hobbies”
“Some people have dedicated their lives to a sport”
“Some people also peak in college.”
“Ouch” Dean laughed, staring at you with a look you couldn’t quite figure out. “You know after a whole year in Ireland I figured you’d knocked that Boston accent out of you.”
“I do not have a Boston accent, you ass.”
“You do. Garrett never really had one but yours was always there. You can hear it when you say vowels.”
Your hand flew to your mouth, embarrassed. “Oh my god, Dean, shut up”
“There it is again.”
“I don’t have an accent.”
“You absolutely do.”
“It comes out when I’m tired.” You try defending.
“That’s so cute.” Dean smiled smugly.
Your stomach did a horrifying flip and you laughed with your head in your hands. Dean’s hand was now resting on the counter behind your back and it was like his closeness was bruning into you now. Before you could say anything, Garrett’s voice cut threw the kitchen.
“Why are you standing so close to my sister?”
You went to take a step away but Dean stayed put, not caring. Which unfortunately made you look a lot guiltier. Dean, on the other hand, looked unbothered.
“Relax, G.” he said easily, grabbing his cup off the counter behind where you were standing. “We were catching up, I haven’t seen her since freshman year.”
“About your trip?” Garrett sounded like he was about to accuse you and Dean of something else but Hannah thankfully stepped up instead.
“Hi, you must be Y/n, I’m Hannah.” She was adorable, you’d give Garrett that. You smiled at her, grateful for the interruption and the chance to feel like you could breathe again with Dean slightly less close with you.
“Hannah!” You repeated warmly. “Logan and Garrett do not shut up about you.”
Garrett scoffed and Logan started to interrupt you but you continued anyways “Garrett made me listen to him talk about you for an hour on facetime like a week ago when you guys met. I almost hung up.”
Hannah laughed and gave you a quick hug as another girl came up to stand next to her.
“This is Allie.” Hannah said, pointing to the girl standing besides her. They were both even prettier up close. Allie smiled at you very knowingly. As if she had seen Dean and you pressed against the counter and understood everything going on in your head.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Allie said.
“You too.”
Garrett and Hannah were absorbed in their own world within seconds, and Allie had run off to find her boyfriend. Logan was staring at Hannah like he was going to cry if he had to watch her be with Garrett for a second longer. You liked this. You liked Garrett’s friends. Almost enough to distract you from the hate you had for parties.
Dean pushed off the counter and came closer to you again, dipping down to talk into your ear so you could hear him over the music.
“Are you hungry?”
“What?” Your brows furrowed and you turned away from your brother towards Dean behind you.
“You look hungry.” Dean shrugged.
“That’s got to be the worst line you’ve used”
“It’s not a line.” He protested. “You just don’t seem like you like this party and you look like you’re planning on robbing our kitchen.”
“It’s not that, I just don’t like parties” You don’t know what made you be honest. Dean just seemed to bring it out of you tonight. Dean didn’t seem to enjoy that answer and took your drink from your hand, putting it on the counter.
“Dean–” You started protesting, but he ignored you completely.
“You hate parties?” He repeated as he guided you somewhere through the crowd. Your brother and his friends left behind you in the kitchen.
“I hate hockey parties.”
“It’s because you were never at my hockey parties”
“You all smell like axe body spray and terrible cheap alcohol.”
Dean laughed loudly, dinally stopping at the edge of the makeshift dancefloor in their house. The music was too loud, the bass vibrating beneath your too high heels.
“This is my nightmare.” you yelled over the music, gesturing wildly.
Dean turned towards you with an amused smile, “Yet you still followed me.”
You rolled your eyes but warmth spread through your chest despite yourself. Dean moved closer, one of his hands settling on your waist like it belonged there. Your brain short circuited as you looked down at the hand.
“You’re tense.” He said like it was the most obvious thing, like there was no reason to be, like his hand wasn’t sitting on your waist, swaying you.
“I’m standing in the middle of a dance floor surrounded by drunk athletes and girls who would kill to be dancing with you.”
“And?”
“And I’m much too sober for this.”
Dean barked out a laugh. “That bad at dancing, huh Graham?”
“You have no idea”
“You know,” Dean said, leaning too close, “for someone who hates hockey players, your eyes haven’t left me all night.”
Your jaw dropped instantly at the insinuation. You thought you were being so slick.
“I am not staring at you.”
“Sure, Graham.”
“You are delusional. You just think every girl would kill to be with you.”
“Cute deflection.”
Before you could come up with a response, Tucker came barelling through the two of you, much drunker than when you had left them.
“OH MY GOD.” He slurred loudly at the two of you. “It’s time for shots!”
Tucker grabbed both of you, and leaned towards Dean, whisper shouting at him.
“Dean, if Garrett kills you I am taking your room.” Dean shoved him away with a laugh and the three of you made your way to the kitchen.
The night blurred after that. Somewhere between Beau and Allie singing showtunes and Tucker starting a dance battle with himself, you stopped checking the time and accidentally started having fun.
By midnight your ribs were sore from laughing and by one in the morning you were sure your cheeks were permanently red thanks to Dean. And by two, you were drunk. Not blackout drunk, but too drunk to stop yourself from saying something stupid. And way too drunk to walk home. Way too drunk to pretend like every time Dean leaned in you didn’t stop mid sentence to look at him.
“You okay?” He asked, steadying you as someone bumped you while walking by.
“I hate you.”
“For what?”
“You made me enjoy a hockey party. That’s deeply embarrassing.”
Dean’s grin softened. “There she is again.”
“Stop saying shit like that.”
“Like what?”
“Things that make me almost like you.”
Dean looks genuinely offended. “Almost?”
You laughed into your drink at his reaction before finally checking your phone. 2:27am. Your eyes widened. You had to go home.
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
“I need my brother.”
Dean made a face immediately and you shoved his shoulder. “Shut up, D. I need him to take me home. Him and Hannah were the only ones not drinking.”
Dean pulled his phone out to call your brother for you as you tried and failed to stand up straight without his help. A few seconds passed before he started laughing.
“What?”
Dean just turned his phone toward you.
Garrett: DO NOT COME UP HERE UNLESS IT’S AN EMERGENCY.
Garrett: also hannah says bye :)
“Oh my god” You groaned, putting your face in your hands.
“Well,” Dean said, looking far too entertained. “Looks like your ride abandoned you.”
“I hate everyone in this house.”
“That’s not fair.” Dean laughed again. “Beau didn’t do anything.”
You grounded dramatically and leaned your forehead against his chest for a second to steady yourself before realizing what you were doing and immediately straightening. Dean noticed. Of course he noticed. His grin turned lazy.
“You’re drunk, Graham.”
“And you need to think of a better nickname.”
“Drunk and mean.” He laughed. “Baby doll, you’re swaying.”
. “That’s what you think was the better option.” Your face burned at the nickname. “I’m standing perfectly still.”
“You haven’t stood still in 20 minutes.” Dean said. “You almost ran into the wall.”
“The wall almost hit me.”
Dean let out a soft laugh and reached out to steady you. The contact felt unfairly natural at this point in the night, you leaned into it.
“So what do I do, D?” You pouted. “Sleep on your disgusting sex couch?”
“You can take my room.”
“That’s arguably so much worse.”
Dean laughed at you but pushed you towards the stairs anyways.
“Dean, stop, where will you sleep then? I can’t take your bed the night before practice.”
“Great point, guess we’re sharing.”
You tried to ignore the warmth in your chest at his offering. You tried to convince yourself it’s just because you’re drunk but you know better. You tried to remind yourself who this was. It’s Dean Di Laurentis. Your brother’s Dean. Cocky, flirty, hockey, Dean who you know has slept with half the girls on campus.
“Dean.”
“Y/N.”
“This is a bad idea.” You tried to sound confident but it came out more as a question than anything.
“Your brother would kill me if I let you walk and he’d kill me if you slept on the couch.” He pursed his lips, thinking for a second before deciding it was fine. “It’s fine.”
The two of you headed up to his room and he tossed you a shirt and sweatpants that were way too long. You laughed.
“What?” He looked at you staring at the clothes. “Are they ugly?”
“No, no, they’re just huge.”
“Well if you’d rather sleep without clothes, I won’t protest.”
You threw a pillow at him as he laughed and you went into the bathroom. When you came back out Dean was shirtless wearing just sweatpants. You looked at him, frozen where you were standing for a second before dumping your dress and heels outside of the bathroom and swaying over to the bed.
“You had fun tonight.”
You opened your mouth to protest but stopped yourself. You couldn’t deny it. Because annoyingly, you did have fun, a lot of fun. Not just with Dean. With Logan and Tucker and Allie and you had fun watching your brother fall head over heels with Hannah too. A soft silence passed between the two of you before he got in bed next to you.
“Thank you, Dean.” Something in his expression softened. And then his eyes flickered down to your mouth. For a second both of you were too close. But neither of you moved. The music downstairs died down softly and the only sounds that could be heard was the shuffling of people coming upstairs and voices from the other rooms.
“You know,” Dean said with a smirk that made you think he was 100% going to ruin the moment. “This is going to make me look really good when you tell people you don’t actually hate hockey players.”
You laughed softly at him and shoved a pillow in his face. “Don’t push it, Di Laurentis.”
Dean grinned at you and then before either of you could do anything too stupid he turned around and turned the light off.
“Get some sleep, Graham.”
Dean settled beside you and you realized two very unfortunate things. One: Dean Di Laurentis is going to be the death of you. Two: You don’t think you mind.
