why can't i be the one to give you everything you want?
summary: the Christmas season always brought joy and cheer. but this year, you were hoping it would bring a miracle: one where Tyson would finally see you as something more than just a friend
song inspo: santa doesn't know you like i do by sabrina carpenter
word count: 3k
warnings: none, just pure holiday fluff (christmas centric)
a/n: i'm back!! and what better way to celebrate by giving you all a barely edited, written last night, self-indulgent fic to feed my delusion of Tyson Jost being madly in love with me. can't wait to write for you all again!!
The heat that blasts from the oven is a welcome sensation, considering that your old apartment often struggled to keep in the warmth from your central heating. You lean in, your oven mitt clad hand reaching and grasping the cookie sheet.
You’d be the first to admit that you weren’t much of a baker. That was never your ‘job’ during holidays with your family. But you figured you would try this year since you wouldn’t have the opportunity to enjoy the homemade goodies your family crafted.
That was the reason you chose to bake cookies. The reason you chose to bake almond butter cookies was because of someone else. Someone who also wasn’t able to enjoy the comforts of home this year.
As if he could hear your thoughts, a knock echoes through your apartment. You quickly finish transferring the cookies from the still hot baking sheet onto the cooling rack before wiping off your hands and running towards the front door. You swing open the worn wood and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips when you see Tyson standing there.
“Hey. Happy Christmas Eve Eve.”
“Is that the official name?” he laughs, walking into your apartment like it was his own. Which considering how often he was over at your place, it might as well be.
“You haven’t seen that episode of Friends?”
“Guess not,” he shrugs, taking off his coat. “Smells nice in here.”
“Thanks. I tried my hand at baking.”
“And you didn’t burn the apartment down?” he smiles and you wish you could stop the way your knees weaken at the sight.
“Ha, ha, very funny,” you laugh, playfully shoving his shoulder. “You better be nice to me or else you won’t get any almond butter cookies.” This time, you didn’t want to stop the trill of your heart at the way his eyes brightened at your words.
“Almond butter?”
“Yeah,” you nod towards the kitchen, a silent invitation for him. He took your encouragement in stride, breezing into the other room and you were thankful that he was out of earshot when you said your next words.
“I made them just for you.”
You did. You also opened your home to him, welcoming him any day during this, the week of Christmas. But that was just because you didn’t want him to be lonely. That was all. That was the only reason.
It definitely wasn’t because of the crush you had been harboring for him since the first day you met.
No, absolutely not.
You take a deep breath before following Tyson into the kitchen, turning the corner only to find him already munching on a cookie, a grin on his face and some crumbs stuck on his facial hair.
“I know they’re probably not as good as Grandma Jost’s but –” Tyson cuts you off with a gentle call of your name.
“Stop. These are delicious. You did a really good job.”
“Thanks,” you say. It’s only then that you spy the backpack that he carried in with him, one that was now placed on your kitchen table. “What’s that?”
“Oh,” Tyson says, as if he just remembered it himself. You are even more curious when you see the blush spread on his cheeks, the rosy color having nothing to do with the lingering cold from outside. “I need your help.”
“Okay?”
“You mentioned that you were in charge of wrapping presents at your house for the holidays. And I’m really bad at it. I mean, usually I struggle through it or just put everyone’s gifts in bags…”
You gently interrupt his explanation with a laugh of your own, your brain goes over all the gifts Tyson has given you; mostly presented to you in gift bags.
“But since I can’t go home this year, I kind of want to – I don’t know – make more of an effort. Make it more exciting for whenever my family does get their presents. If that makes any sense.”
“That makes perfect sense, Tyson,” you reply. “Sit. Eat your cookies. I’ll get the wrapping paper.”
Only a few short moments pass before you find yourself sitting next to Tyson, wrapping the stockpile of presents he brought over and listening to him talk about anything and everything: details about the gift you were currently wrapping, his shopping adventures, the hockey season so far, friend and family updates, anything. You occasionally interrupt with questions about how he wants the presents decorated but he gives you a lot of creative freedom which you slightly admonish him for.
“Tyson, they should feel like they’re from you.”
“I’ll pick out the bows.”
That was how you continued, your focus on the folds and creases of the paper in front of you while Tyson talked.
You had gone through most of the gift he presented to you, your concentration entirely on the folding and taping that you perfected long ago. Tyson had gone quiet for a moment but you weren’t that concerned as you were still able to hear him rustling around in the bag that held all your bows, finding whatever color he chose for the current gift. You are just about to put the last piece of tape on when you feel Tyson’s fingers gently press against your head.
Your eyes snap back to him, only to see that adorable crooked grin on his face. You are pretty sure you knew what happened and your thoughts are only confirmed as you reach up and feel the paper of the bow pressed onto your hair.
“Is this the one you want for this gift?”
“It looks pretty cute on you,” he says and you once again have to force yourself to take a deep breath before your body acts of its own volition, revealing your feelings in probably the worst way.
“I’m sure it’ll look much better on the present,” you quip, taking it off your hair and replacing the tape before sticking it onto the silver paper. “Ta-da!” You push the present off to the side, adding to the slowly growing pile. “What’s next?”
You turn your attention to Tyson, but this time, he’s the one distracted. His fingers tap against his phone, typing out few quick messages, a small grin appearing on his face occasionally. You wait for a few minutes, just watching him until he feels your gaze and looks up towards you.
“Huh?”
“Which present is next?”
“Oh, last one,” he says, pulling the final gift out of his backpack and handing it to you. “This one is for Kacey.”
“Was that who you were texting?”
“No um, that was Mikayla. She’s this girl I matched with on a dating app a little while ago. We’re just getting last minute details ready before our date tonight.”
His words give you literal pause as your scissors stall on the wrapping paper, your smooth precise cut turning into a jagged edge.
“Tonight?” you ask, your question answered with an affirmative hum from him. You try to act nonchalant, a shrug lifting your shoulders as you attempt to focus back on the task at hand. “Seems a little odd – so close to Christmas.”
“Yeah, but it was the best day for her and I don’t have anywhere else to be, y’know?”
You try not to let his words sting, knowing he doesn’t mean them maliciously. He wasn’t with his family and you were just a friend. He didn’t have any commitments because he wasn’t committed to you. That was the simple truth.
“Yeah, I know,” you say, forcing your attention onto the cherry red wrapping paper in your hands; the one thing you could control. “I think a gold bow would look good on this one.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” Tyson replies, typing out one last quick message before diving back into the bag to find the color you requested.
A few short minutes later, the presents are wrapped and placed back into Tyson’s pack, safe and ready for their return to his apartment. You watched from your couch as his throws his coat over his broad frame before swinging the backpack onto his shoulder.
“If you want, you can always come over tomorrow. I need some help finishing off those cookies,” you playfully tease, trying not to let your heart get too attached to the idea of spending Christmas Eve with him next to you.
“I might take you up on that,” Tyson says, shooting you a gentle smile before opening your door and leaving, the chill sneaking in from the outside and finding a way to wrap around your heart.
You know you had no right to be upset. Tyson wasn’t yours. He didn’t know the way you felt about him and there was no certainty that he would even share your feelings. He might only ever see you as a friend and if that was the case… he should be free to find someone who does love him.
But there was this stubborn part of you that couldn’t imagine anyone else loving Tyson as much as you loved him. You’ve been there through the good and bad. You knew his favorite songs. You knew how to make him laugh. And you would always pick up when he called.
Who else could say that?
You sigh, gently telling yourself that there was nothing you could do about it tonight.
Perhaps Christmas Eve might bring forth some holiday magic. Or maybe you should just throw in the towel, pray for New Year’s to come quickly so you could leave this heartache behind along with the holiday season.
You weren’t sure which to wish for so you just crawled into bed, feeling bluer that ever before as you fell asleep, trying not to think of someone else’s lips pressed against Tyson’s.
The lights in the tree blurred as you try to hold back you tears. You always seemed to cry during the holidays; you never really knew why. It just always came about this time of year. ‘Tis the season, right?
But this year, you could pinpoint the exact person that caused your tears to fall. Tyson Jost. The worst part about it was that it wasn’t even his fault that you were crying. It was all yours.
You woke up after a listless night of sleeping. When you went to check your phone, you hoped to see a message from Tyson but to your disappointment but not surprise, there was no notification on your screen. You managed to roll yourself out from underneath your covers and go about your morning routine before sending a text to him, saying that you hoped his date went well and that the offer to come over tonight was still on the table.
That was over twelve hours ago and all you received was radio silence from him.
Perhaps that is why you found yourself curled up underneath your tree, staring up at the lights in the boughs, trying to push back tears. It was a stupid reason to cry just like it was stupid to fall for your best friend. Stupid to think that he could ever see you as anything more. Stupid to think that maybe this Christmas would be the one where it all changed.
Stupid to spend your money on a new watch, wrap it up for him with a note documenting your feelings in the hope that he would open it tonight, here, underneath your tree while you both ate the cookies you made specifically for him.
Your fingers trace over the silk ribbon, fidgeting with the bow as the minutes tick by, your hope dwindling with them.
The receipt for it was still in your closet in one of your purses. You could return it on Tuesday, pretend like you never had this grand scheme and go back to being friends with Tyson. Give yourself another year to get over him. Maybe next year you finally would.
A heavy sigh escapes you as you spare one last glance down at the parcel in your hands before placing it back underneath the tree with all the other presents that your friends and family had sent to you.
It was a silly idea, an almost childish Christmas dream and now, you had to wake up. Tyson was dating other people and sooner or later, he would find someone who could give him everything you could and possibly more. Perhaps he found her last night and woke up this morning to her curled up in his arms and that feeling of love just struck him and if so, there was nothing you could do and –
The knock on your door startles you out of your spiraling thoughts, your hand hitting a few ornaments hanging down from the branches. You quickly grab them, stabilizing the fragile decor before you lift yourself off the floor, your blanket pooling beneath you before you wander to the front door.
You had no idea who was knocking at this time of night but you must have been too exhausted, both physically and emotionally, to care because you opened the door without a second thought. It took you a minute to fully register the person standing on your doorstep but when you saw those chocolate curls and those big brown eyes, you feel a sense of calm sweep over you.
Tyson always pulled that feeling from you. Even when he showed up unannounced on Christmas Eve.
Although you were happy to see him, the expression on your face was one of confusion. Why was he here, now, without a word of warning, after ignoring you for almost a full 24 hours? You are about to ask those questions but before you could get a word out, Tyson speaks.
“I’m sorry.”
His words catch you off-guard, the meaning behind them not yet clear to you.
“For what?” you ask him. Your breath shallows as he turns his gaze to you and you are struck by the earnestness reflecting in his eyes.
“For not seeing you,” he replies, stepping over the threshold of your apartment and closer to you. “For not seeing how wonderful and amazing and beautiful you are.”
“Wha – what’s happening?” you question, his words sending shockwaves through your body.
“I think a part of me always knew; that you were the one. But I ignored it for whatever reason. Fear, indifference, whatever. But last night, when I was on a date with another girl, all I could think about was you. How you make me laugh, make me smile. Pick me up and encourage me when I’m down. Do silly inconsequential things for me without expecting anything in return.”
Tyson continues to speak, becoming more assured and confident with every word, punctuating each sentence with a step closer to you.
“How you went out of your way to make cookies that remind me of home so I would feel less alone this holiday season. No one else has done anything like that for me.”
You had to be hallucinating or dreaming or something. This felt straight out of goddamn Hallmark movie – it couldn’t be real life. It was a fantasy brought on by sugar and heartache. But when Tyson reaches out to you, gently grasping your hands in his, you can feel the warmth of his touch run through you, warm and as real as it ever was.
“And I realized last night, alone in my bed, that I didn’t need the cookies, the presents, the bows and ribbons to feel like I was home,” Tyson confesses, his voice becoming softer as he pulls you closer. “Whenever I’m with you… that’s when I’m home. You are home to me. And I’m sorry for not being able to tell you sooner. I’m sorry it took this long for me to realize it.”
Tyson silences, looking into your eyes and you know he’s waiting for your answer but you were still trying to fully understand this whole situation. Still trying to wrap your head around the fact that the man in front of you, the man that you had a crush for almost an entire year, just came to your house in the middle of the night and confessed his feelings to you.
Your body slightly jumps at the sound of your front door closing, the breeze pulling it shut but Tyson gently rubs his thumbs over the back of your hands, soothing you. A small jingle of a bell sounds from above you, brought on by the gust of air from the door. The noise pulls both you and Tyson’s attention away from each other towards the ceiling and you feel your cheeks warm at the sight of the green leaves with white berries, tied together with ribbon, hanging above you. The warmth intensifies as Tyson turns his gaze on you once again, that mischievous look in his eyes.
“Mistletoe? Really?”
“It’s tradition,” you mutter, your tongue finally being able to twist itself into words.
“Well, it is Christmas after all. I guess we shouldn’t break tradition,” he grins.
You force yourself to breathe as Tyson leans closer to you, your eyes fluttering shut when you feel his forehead press against yours. You can feel the warmth of his breath fanning over your cheeks but his movements stall and when you don’t feel the gentle press of his lips against yours, you slowly reopen your eyes.
Tyson is still standing there, his lips only mere centimeters away from yours. It’s only then that you realize you’ve never given him a response to his confession. Haven’t yet told him that it was everything that you had been hoping to hear from him. But how could you possibly respond when it didn’t feel like there were words in the English language to describe the depth of your feelings?
The answer was simple.
You respond by lifting yourself up those final inches and pressing your lips against his. You pour every emotion you felt into that kiss and you could feel a piece of you settle when Tyson kissed you back with as much passion.
And you knew that this – wrapped up in Tyson’s arms underneath the mistletoe, his lips against yours – was the best present you could have ever received this year.
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"i just want to lay here all day" & "we can share" for one fluffy bunny tyson jost pls <3
you hit snooze on your phone alarm for the 5th time, groaning at the thought of getting out of your warm bed. you rolled over expecting to see tyson but he wasn’t there.
“tyson?” you half yell in a sleepy voice.
“yeah babe?” he says walking into your room with a cup of coffee in hand.
“why’d you leave?”
“well your first alarm woke me up, clearly it didn’t work for you.” he teased, climbing back into bed beside you. you nuzzled into his side, absorbing his body heat. he put his arm around you and gently rubbed your back while he sipped on his coffee.
“i just want to lay here all day.” you mumble into tyson’s chest. you loved mornings when he didn’t have practice and you were able to just relax.
“as much as i would love too babe, we got things to do today.” you let out a groan at tyson’s comment, causing his to chuckle. “cmon babe, it’ll be a good day!” he says giving you a squeeze.
“it would be a good day if i had a cup of coffee too.” you say giving tyson a dirty look before flashing a smile so he knows you were just teasing.
“i used the last of our coffee…” he says with a nervous smile. “we can share?” he moves the cup over to you slowly and put it up to your lips, slowly pouring some into your mouth. you make an exaggerate “ahh” after your sip, turning your head up more towards tyson and giving him a soft smile.
“my god i’m spoiled.”
“that’s how it should be princess.” tyson takes another sip of the coffee and hands the cup to you. “you can have the rest, and meet me in the shower in 5.” he says with a wink, slipping out from under the covers one last time for the day.
Four Times Tyson Almost Kissed You And One Time You Actually Kissed Him
it’s finally here!! i apologize for the delay with this fic, my brain totally froze while writing most it, but i’m really happy with how it came out. this is part of the winter fic exchange that @antoineroussel is hosting and i had the pleasure of writing for @senditcolton !! i hope you love this fic as much as i enjoyed bringing the idea to life. also, this was my first time writing for tyson which was a lot of fun as well!
gif by @barzzal
hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx
word count: 8.7k
~~~~~
Out of all the things that were bound to happen throughout your college career, the very last thing you expected was to meet an NHL player and become best friends with him. But during a weekend shift at the team store at Ball Arena, one of the odd jobs that you had to make some extra cash to pay for school, Tyson walked in looking to get two new jerseys for both his mom and younger sister.
His bright smile full of sunshine and the way he got shy asking for your help because “you’re a girl and know what they like” won you over within seconds. You found out that it was his first full season with the Avalanche thanks to none other than Nathan MacKinnon who practically insisted Tyson came to play with the team. He’s unbelievably sweet and kind, plus it doesn’t take you long to recognize that his laughter is contagious.
As you’re considering which jersey to get for each of the two most important people in his life, Tyson asks questions about you and seems genuinely interested in learning about everything from what you’re studying at CU Boulder to what your usual Starbucks order is. When the decision is finally made and he’s checking out, giddy with anticipation of sending the gifts home, you feel a tug of sadness that this is probably all you’ll have with him.
Except it isn’t. Tyson asks for your number since he admits he’d like another friend, especially someone outside the team, since he’s still new to Denver. You can’t say no and want him in your life as well. And that’s the beginning of arguably the most amazing friendship you’ve ever had.
Purposeful run-ins during your shifts turn to meeting up for coffee, going to games to cheer Tyson on, movie marathons and spending every available minute together. Everyday is full of a little more joy because you have him and as time goes on, you appreciate the friendship more than anything. The team has become like your second family and all your friends on campus have welcomed Tyson with open arms.
After graduating, you scored your dream job right in Denver and although you were beyond excited about the position, you couldn’t help but be happy because that meant you got to stay close to Tyson as well. You denied that having to do with anything other than the fact he’s your best friend and nothing more. But you realized when moving into your new apartment there was a warmth in your chest that appeared only because of Tyson which meant one thing.
You’re in love with him.
The thought alone was terrifying and still is, but you’ve gotten this far without spilling your secret. Tyson’s in his sixth season with the Avs and you’re happier than ever at your job. There have been countless moments where you think he might feel the same and hasn’t admitted it, but you don’t push the envelope. Life is perfect as is right now.
If the only way you get him in your life is as your best friend, then you’ll take it. That’s better than nothing and everyday has been infinitely better because of Tyson’s energy and kindness. Suppressing your emotions isn’t hard. You can do that in order not to lose him.
Tyson, on the other hand, might not be able to hide how he’s truly feeling for much longer.
I.
“Tys, will you come on? It’s freezing out here!” You exclaim with a shiver, tugging on his gloved hand in hopes that he’ll follow you into Union Station without any further objection. Of course, you aren’t that lucky.
“I’m looking at how pretty the city is.” Tyson states simply, brown eyes taking in the sight of Denver lit up at night. You let out a huff before giving up on your insistent begging and take a look at the view.
“You’ve lived here for five years and have a better view from your balcony. What’s so special about it from here?”
“Nothing. This is always our first stop of the annual winter activities though and it’s one of my favorite times of the year. So the view standing here with you is different from just looking out my apartment’s windows.” Tyson admits while shrugging his shoulders as a beaming smile blossoms across his lips. You can’t stop from rolling your eyes at how cheesy that sounds, but there’s a grin on your face too despite the chilly weather that isn’t very pleasant.
The winter activities tradition began shortly after you met Tyson all those years ago. It was only your second year in Denver and he insisted on showing you all the best spots to enjoy during the cold weather. Every day included a different location and new experience that he couldn’t wait to share with you. You both had so much fun that an unspoken agreement was formed ensuring each of those special spots in Denver were enjoyed together every January.
And now here you are. About to do it all again with your favorite person in the world.
“It is pretty.” You admit softly, leaning into his side for a brief moment to watch the traffic pass by and people hustling down the sidewalks to stay warm. The city’s become your second home and most of that is because of the curly headed boy next to you, not that you’d ever say that to him. “But seriously, let’s get inside. This hot chocolate is going to have to melt me out of an ice block soon.” Tyson doesn’t miss the teasing tone in your voice even though he catches the hints of affection hidden in the words.
“Alright, alright. We’ll go.” He chuckles, the beautiful sound of his laugh making your heart soar. As soon as he opens the door to the stunning interior of the historical train station, a wave of warmth envelops you and you’ve never been more grateful. The station is bustling as usual during this time of year, people going in every possible direction. The locals are trying to catch their trains while the tourists are enjoying everything from the dining options to the beauty of the building.
To anyone else, it probably looks like pure chaos. But with Tyson by your side and one mission in mind, Union Station feels like another slice of heaven that’s been nestled into the heart of Denver.
You share a shy smile with Tyson before both of your eyes rest on the destination at hand. The Terminal Bar. It’s there, at that tiny spot loved by every visitor who crosses through the station, that the best hot chocolate in the world is sold. Bananas foster hot chocolate to be exact. At first, you thought Tyson’s idea to get the warm drink was insane because it’s the oddest combination of flavors ever, but it’s incredible. And now a staple for your annual winter festivities.
When you glance at your best friend again, there’s the mischievous glint in his pretty brown eyes which means nothing but trouble. It’s a look that you both love and hate because seeing him happy makes your world much brighter, but you almost always end up in a sticky situation thanks to him. A sigh slips past your lips at the recognition and Tyson tips his head back in a laugh before pulling you in for a tight hug, hands rubbing up and down your arms in an attempt to warm you up.
“You always figure me out! I’ve gotta get better at hiding my crazy ideas if you can guess just by the look on my face.”
“I’d argue I know you better than the guys. The only one who has the edge on me is JT, but it’s a title I’m proud of.” You respond with a giggle, continuing the banter that’s always existed within your friendship. “Let’s go. I need that hot chocolate and I didn’t freeze out there for nothing.”
“You’re so dramatic.” Tyson fires back, that heartstopping smile of his never faltering as you begin to walk in the direction of the bar. Weaving through the crowd is easy because of Tyson guiding the way and his voice becomes your main focus despite the many noises that fill the air.
When you get to the desired destination, Tyson is quick to speak up first and place the order for two of the famous bananas foster hot chocolates before gently tapping your arm as a silent go ahead to find a seat in the dining area. You know it’s his way of avoiding your argument about paying for the drinks, but you let it slide this time especially because the cashier is looking at the two of you like you’re a happy couple.
That’s not the first time it’s happened and certainly won’t be the last, but the aching in your chest has resurfaced and you can’t let the true emotions show right now. Not ever. So with a nod and deep breath, you step away to find open seats.
In just a few short minutes, Tyson is sliding onto the barstool next to you at the highrise table and carefully placing a full mug in front of you. The hot chocolate is topped with plenty of whipped cream and the delicious smell drifts up making you feel a surge of happiness that washes away all the uncertain thoughts that were present only moments ago.
“Here you go,” Tyson says proudly, bumping your shoulder in a playful way before reaching for his own mug to take a long sip.
“Thanks, Tys.” You mimic his actions while taking in how adorable he looks like this, bundled up and joyful as if nothing else in the world matters. There’s an undeniable tug on your heartstrings at the sight, but you savor your hot chocolate and focus on how perfect it is to be here with him during another year.
“I don’t know how I lived my whole life before meeting you without this hot chocolate.” You state with a laugh after enjoying the chocolatey taste of the warm drink.
“I’m sure you would’ve made it just fine.” Tyson responds while grinning and his eyes sparkle with bliss under the soft lighting in the train station. His curls are wild, a few falling over his forehead like always, and you can’t believe you’re lucky enough to have him in your life.
“Hardly. And I don’t want to even think about not having you here.” The teasing words fall off your lips as you continue sipping the hot chocolate, but Tyson’s looking at you in a way that practically steals your breath away. Pure adoration is on display across his face and there’s a flash of want in his gaze. “What?” You ask, voice shaking slightly even though you’re trying not to falter with the sudden change.
For a minute, he doesn’t say anything. A comfortable silence wraps around the both of you as the rest of the station hustles along. His eyes never leave yours and it’s driving you insane. This hasn’t ever happened before and you don’t know what to do. Then, ever so slowly, he reaches out and cups your cheek in one hand, his thumb swiping over your cheek. You gasp and can’t find words to ask what’s happening.
“Had some whipped cream on your cheek.” Tyson murmurs, not moving his hand or pulling back. He stays right where he is and neither of you are focused on the hot chocolate anymore. It’s all about him, him, him. All it would take for him to kiss you is leaning forward to closing the small space between you. But he doesn’t. Even though Tyson wants to. He wants to so badly.
And despite knowing he doesn’t feel that way about you, your heart breaks a little.
“Sorry, I had to get it.” Tyson smiles, dropping his hand from your cheek and trying to get back to the normalcy of your friendship. You nod in appreciation as he grabs a napkin like this revolutionary moment, where he almost kissed you, didn’t just happen. Air fills your lungs again when you let go of the breath you didn’t even know you were holding.
“You saved me from looking like an idiot again. I owe you one.” You speak up, the same joking tone evident in each word. Tyson smiles in what seems like relief and you fall back into the familiar pattern of being the other’s best friend. Nothing happened and you have to erase the memory right now.
But that’s easier said than done when you wanted his lips on yours more than anything.
II.
The only thing Tyson’s earlier text stated was to be dressed warm and to be ready by six which is when he would be picking you up. And even though he’s trying desperately to keep where you’re going a secret, you already know. Blossoms of Light at the Denver Botanic Gardens has been on your winter festivities list with Tys since the beginning and it’s his favorite of the annual activities.
Every single year he tries to disguise going to see the beautiful outdoor light displays by creating some intricate plan to trick you every time. And even though you always figure it out, you never tell him because seeing the look of accomplishment and admiration is your favorite thing in the entire world.
So here you are, pulling on your gloves and Avs beanie ready for a fun night with the boy you adore just as the buzzer sounds by the front door of your apartment.
“It’s me! You better let me up or we’ll be late.” Tyson exclaims with a chuckle, his voice grainy through the small speaker. You can’t help but roll your eyes before clicking the button to respond.
“Then stay where you are. I’m coming down right now.” You don’t give Tyson a chance to respond because you grab your bag and close the door behind you a few seconds after those words leave your mouth. A giddy feeling flows through your veins at the thought of what’s waiting in the lobby; the boy you love and a winter night that is sure to be nothing but a good time.
“Finally!” Tyson exclaims when you step out of the elevator only a few minutes later. “It took you long enough.” You giggle at his chirps and just shove your gloved hands into your pockets. The sight of him all cozy in preparation for spending a few hours out in the cold of winter warms your heart. It’s simple moments like this that remind you how lucky you are to have the sweet boy as your best friend.
“Says the boy who takes years to get ready to go anywhere.” You tease right back as you fall into step with him and head out to his car. The drive isn’t long and it’s full of the gorgeous views of Denver which still haven’t gotten old despite living in the city for years now. By time Tyson finds a parking spot and is opening your door, you can’t help but think about how perfect a night it is to be checking this specific activity off your annual list.
“We’re here!” Tyson proclaims while smiling so wide that the corners of his eyes crinkle.
“You couldn’t have picked a better night for Blossoms of Light, Tys. I’m impressed.” The words are genuine and although you saw the surprise coming, there’s still a rush of giddiness about stepping into the park which is decorated with thousands of colorful lights.
“I try, I try.” He laughs in response, bumping your shoulder in a playful manner and walking next to you down the designated paths. After visiting the famous attraction so many times, you both have the map memorized and have your favorite parts of the stunning lights that turn the park into a dazzling wonderland at night during the winter season.
Thanks to a recent snowstorm that passed through a few days ago, there is a fresh layer of snow that blankets every aspect of the park and the lights. It’s so pretty and you can only hope that everyone gets to experience the magic of this little place even just once. There’s nothing more you could ask for than taking in the breathtaking sights with the boy who means the world to you.
Like any other time you spend together, Tyson fills the air with happy chatter which has you laughing more often than not and you keep him up to date with anything that he may have missed when he’s busy with practices or games. It’s comfortable, familiar and feels like home. You cherish moments like this for when he’s on the road and suddenly life in the Rockies feels a little more lonely than usual.
So you lean into his side, mostly for warmth, and enjoy every second of being right here.
When you turn a corner which reveals the lake which has a variety of vibrant floating balls scattered across the water surface, you hook your arm around Tyson’s and gently interrupt his rambling.
“One year you should invite your mom and Kacey to come do this with us.”
Tyson almost stops in his tracks, but offers you the sweet smile that makes every worry disappear. His eyes go wide for a few seconds and you can’t stop the way your heart soars at how cute he is.
“And share one of our special winter activities? I can’t let them in on the secret.” Tyson responds with a laugh until he realizes you’re serious. “Where’s that coming from?” He asks as you both start walking down the path again.
“I don’t know. It sometimes occurs to me that I’m lucky enough to live here and do life with someone as incredible as you by my side most of the time. That makes me feel like the luckiest person in the world. And your family misses you more than I think you realize so it would be great being able to share this with them. Don’t you think so?” The explanation comes out in a rush and Tyson notices how you blush under his gaze.
“No, they would love it. You’re absolutely right. I’ll have to see when our schedules allow for it to happen next year.” He grins in response, squeezing you in closer for a few seconds.
“And maybe I miss Kacey so it would be fun to see her again.” You admit, looking up to see his reaction which is exactly what you expect it to be.
“Hey! You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”
You don’t get a chance to respond because your eyes land on the best part of the whole experience. Tyson notes your sudden silence before realizing you’re staring ahead and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips at how in awe you are. The walkway is surrounded by trees on both sides, each decorated in a different color. Without another word, you take a few slow steps forward to be under the beautiful illumination and Tyson’s breath is stolen away.
He’s always thought you were gorgeous but everything about you right now is stunning. And although he might be biased because there are underlying feelings there, all he can think about is how he wants every single one of these little moments with you for the rest of his life. To see you look this effortlessly beautiful all the time.
Tyson is by your side again after taking a few seconds to admire you. His hand gently presses into your lower back as a silent reminder that he’s there. Your eyes are sparkling as you look around. No matter how many times you see this same exact spot on the path, it amazes you for some unknown reason.
With one simple turn, you face Tyson and find that he’s been looking at you the whole time. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but the expression on his face has butterflies erupting in your stomach. You try not to get wrapped up in the thoughts that he might and could easily kiss you. That’s the farthest thing from what you’re supposed to want from him.
But before you can even grasp the idea fully, Tyson’s pulling away and flashing a smile like he always does. A sense of disappointment weighs heavy on your heart. No matter how badly you wanted more, you can’t risk losing him. So you continue on through the decorated tree arch and enjoy the rest of the night with your best friend like nothing different happened.
III.
“There she is!” Mel exclaims the second you step into the suite. The rest of the WAGs turn their heads towards the door and a small burst of cheering breaks out. You roll your eyes while laughing as Mel gives you a tight hug, relishing in the feeling of belonging with the girls who have come to mean so much to you.
“I come to almost every home game. The excitement isn’t necessary anymore.” You state matter-of-factly, but Mel waves the comment off while making note of the fact you’re wearing a burgundy and blue jersey with the number seventeen plastered across the back. Like you always do.
“Tyson said he wasn’t sure if you’d be coming tonight because of a conflict with your schedule at work. But you’re here! And you’ve been coming to games for like five years now, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t any less excited about you being here.” Mel explains before pulling you to the open seat next to her that you always claim. There isn’t much time to process what the captain’s wife just said before Linnea is climbing into your lap and Jackie is asking you about how you’ve been.
The familiarity of everyone’s company and the atmosphere at Ball Arena envelopes you in an instant. You aren’t a WAG, but Tyson insisted that you sit in the suite with them when you first started coming to his games years ago. It was nerve wracking meeting each of the players’ significant others and their kids, but they welcomed you with open arms and you’ve become such great friends with all of them.
And even though they know you’re here as Tyson’s best friend, some of the knowing looks you get suggest they have your little secret figured out. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud.
It isn’t until the boys skate out for warm-ups and your attention tracks number seventeen around the ice that Mel’s words resurface in your mind. There’s a very good possibility that Tyson has no idea you’re here right now because he was under the impression you wouldn’t be able to make it. You didn’t think about texting him earlier to let him know that your workload in the office was lighter today so you’d be watching from your usual spot. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips at the thought of how seeing him after the game now means you’re surprising him.
With some effort, you push away the vision of seeing Tyson’s eyes light up and that beaming grin of his appearing when he spots you in the tunnel. That’s not going to help with keeping your emotions in check. So you focus on the game that’s just starting and stay engaged in conversations with all the WAGs while entertaining the little ones or jumping up in excitement when the Avalanche score.
Thanks to a goal from both Nate and Cale along with two goals from Tyson, Colorado won the game 4-2. Nothing but excitement fills the air in the suite as the final buzzer sounds and everyone in the arena celebrates the win. As you’re clapping and watching the line of hugs happen down on the ice Sydney, JT’s girlfriend, leans over to murmur something in your ear and her words warm your heart, but shock you just the same.
“Josty totally has no idea you made it tonight and with those two goals of his, I wouldn’t be surprised if he finally kissed you in the tunnel later.”
You try to respond with a denial because there’s no way that’s true, but Mel shakes your arm to grab your attention. The three stars of the night are being announced and there’s your best friend skating out onto the ice with his stick in the air.
“And tonight’s first star of the game, from your Colorado Avalanche, Tyson Jost!” Loud cheers erupt in response and Tyson tosses a puck over the glass to a little kid who had no doubt been eagerly waiting for that moment all night. The adoration rushing through your veins is indescribable. You’re always so proud of Tyson, but moments like this remind you just how incredible he is.
Right before he disappears into the locker room again, Tyson looks up towards the suite where you’re sitting just to flash his bright smile and send a wave in your direction. Every single person notices his actions, there’s no way to miss it, but no one notices how your heart soars with love. You desperately try to keep the emotions off your face as you continue celebrating with pride. Tyson has never done anything like that before and you can’t help but think about Sydney’s words just moments ago.
He doesn’t know you’re here so that wasn’t for you. And that’s okay. You’re just his best friend, nothing more.
The disappointment disappears within seconds especially when Mel asks if you’re ready to head downstairs with everyone. You’re practically buzzing by the time you arrive outside the locker room. Every fiber of your being is full of excitement about seeing Tyson after such an incredible game, but there’s still time before the team starts leaving so you fall into a conversation with a few of the girls again while anxiously waiting.
You don’t know if a few minutes have passed or an hour when the doors open and the guys start filing out of the locker room at their own pace. Each of them goes right to their significant other and families which fills the hallway with lighthearted chatter and many passionate greetings. Next to you, Mel is welcoming Gabe into a hug as the kids enthusiastically ask for his attention. It’s then you look back towards the door and that’s when you see him. He’s dressed in his plaid game day suit again and a few of his wild, but still perfect curls have fallen over his forehead.
JT is at his side like usual and a smirk appears on his lips when he catches sight of you first. In a split second, Tyson is looking towards whatever has his friend’s attention and the world seems to stop when your eyes meet his. His lips tug upward in a smile that you swear could replace the sun and he’s rushing towards you with a sense of urgency like no other.
Tyson’s arms immediately wrap you up in a tight, warm embrace and you can feel how his heart is racing under your ear resting on his chest. He squeezes you for a moment almost as if he doesn’t believe any of this is real. The feeling of home surrounds you which has you melting into Tyson’s touch before speaking up.
“You were amazing out there, Tys. Congrats on the two goals and a fantastic game.” You murmur into his chest, each word full of emotion as you try to commit every detail about this instant in time to memory.
“What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t come tonight.” Tyson responds, too stunned to acknowledge your praise.
“Last minute schedule change at work. I didn’t even think twice about deciding to show up, but didn’t realize it would be such a surprise.” Tyson acknowledges the playful tone in your voice and pulls back from the hug to meet your eyes. If you weren’t already in love with him, the soft look on his face right now would’ve had you falling for him in no time. Your heart clenches at the sight and you know more than ever that Tyson is the most special person in your life.
“Of course it’s a surprise! Seeing you after a game is one of my favorite things in the world. And you got to see those two goals tonight so this is quite the treat.”
“I sure did, Mr. First Star of The Game.” You say with a tiny smirk while fumbling with the collar of his shirt as he fingers the small seventeens that are stitched onto the sleeves of the jersey you’re wearing. The rest of the world has fallen away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.
“Hey,” Tyson speaks up, breaking the comfortable silence that’s full of bliss and gratefulness. He gently tips your chin up to lock his gaze with yours once more. Your brows must furrow in confusion at the action because he goes shy before rushing through the rest of what he wants to say. “Thank you for coming tonight. Going out there to play means so much more when it’s for someone other than me and I swear those goals wouldn’t have happened without you in the crowd.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost don’t hear him, but you hang onto every single word.
“No need to thank me, Tys. I’ll be your biggest supporter for the rest of my life. You should know that.” Your breath hitches as Tyson brings one hand up to push some of your hair back behind your ear. And even though everyone else’s attention is on both of you, nothing else matters but each other right now.
“I do.” Tyson whispers, his eyes flicking down to your lips. That familiar warmth of love spreads through your veins because maybe this is finally the time he takes the leap. Maybe this is the time where he actually kisses you like you want him to. Like Tyson wants to even if you don’t know that.
He leans in just slightly, his curls tickling your forehead and you wait for the moment to come. The feel of his lips against yours. But it never does. Because JT claps Tyson on the shoulder as if he didn’t interrupt something very important that could have happened before asking if the two of you want to join the team at the bar to celebrate the win.
You don’t notice the daggers Tyson shoots in his best friend’s direction as you swallow down the disappointment and nod in confirmation. Tyson reaches for your hand, which you let him take, but he can tell the moment shifted your emotions just like it did for him.
But even though he wanted to kiss you so badly, it was probably a good thing JT interrupted because Tyson can’t mess up what he has with you. No matter how in love he is.
IV.
There’s nothing you love more than spending hours upon hours getting lost in a bookstore. And Tyson knows that first hand considering he can’t count how many times he’s done exactly that with you. Something about the cozy atmosphere, thousands of different books to choose from and sipping on a warm drink while browsing has become the ultimate form of comfort for you. So it was no surprise one of Denver’s most beloved bookstores earned the seal of approval to be added to your annual winter festivities list in the first few years you and Tyson started the tradition.
As you stand in the entrance of the Tattered Cover with Tyson by your side, you quickly go over the rules for the activity ahead. A sense of giddiness rushes through your veins and being in the bookstore reminds you how much you love this particular part of everything the two of you do together every winter.
“Alright. You know the drill. Everything is game, but the goal is to find the best book possible for the other person. Any edition, copy or price. We’ll meet up right in front of the reading area on the second floor, got it?” You list off, eyes never wavering from him even though the beautiful store is just waiting to be admired.
Tyson nods in confirmation, a few brown curls falling over his forehead as that breathtaking smile you adore appears on his face. He’s bundled up in his winter coat and a scarf, looking more adorable than ever. The sight of him makes your heart race, but you keep the emotions at bay to focus on the current task.
“I’m so going to win again this year. I know you have some grand plan in that pretty head of yours, but there’s no way you’re going to beat me.” Tyson says with a teasing tone, shrugging nonchalantly. You can’t help and roll your eyes, but a giggle slips out anyway which makes Tyson blush at the sweet sound. Not that you notice.
“Whatever you say, Jost. I’ll believe it when I see it. See you in an hour, second floor reading area.” With that, you leave your best friend behind and head towards the elegant staircases that lead to the higher floors which are full of a wondrous selection of books. There’s one specific section you need to look in for the novel you’re hoping to find for Tyson.
Admittedly, out of the two of you, you’re the avid reader. You always had been and when you met Tys, he loved how you could get lost in a book for hours. So many birthday gifts or random surprises over the years have been a variety of books that Tyson always carefully picked out. He didn’t read much despite your efforts to get him into one of your favorite pastimes, but the opportunity to find the perfect match for him during this part of the winter tradition proved to be fun each time.
This year, your sights are set on finding exactly one book. Which is why you stepped into the young adult section and got to work browsing the many shelves for what has always been Tyson’s favorite book.
You have no idea what Tyson is searching for this time or where he is in the store at the moment. But you are excited to see what he picks because although you’ll most likely love it just because it’s from him, the boy has a wondrous talent in finding the most perfect pick for you. Last year, you let him win the playful competition due to the fact his find was a special edition of your all time favorite novel, but really the expression of pure excitement was what sealed the deal.
So now, it’s time to get the title back. Hopefully.
After what feels like hours looking through every single spine on the numerous shelves, a gasp falls from your lips as your eyes finally land on the title you hoped would be buried in the countless used books the Tattered Cover had available. Leaning up on your tiptoes, you carefully pull the book out of its spot and smile to yourself.
There, in your hands, is a special edition of the fourth Harry Potter book, Goblet of Fire. The whole series is Tyson’s favorite, but this particular book is the one he loves the most out of the seven. And here you are with a version that is so rare and one Tyson definitely doesn’t have. A sense of disbelief rolls over you as you flip through the loved pages and it’s then that you remember you have to meet him at the reading lounge on the second floor.
With the biggest grin and a heart full of happiness, you clutch the hardcover tight as you rush back towards the staircase to head downstairs. But before you can even make it to the cozy area that’s designated for customers to read in the bookstore, you slam into Tyson just as you round the corner.
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you.” Tyson says with chuckle, holding your arms to balance you for a second.
“We said we’d meet-”
“Downstairs. I know.” He cuts you off, that familiar glint of kindness flashing through his brown eyes. The momentary shock subsides and you focus on him. “But I couldn’t wait to show you because I found the perfect book. Like you aren’t ready for this.”
You raise your eyebrows skeptically, but indulge him because the curiosity is too much to bear even if you’re itching to give him the book you found. Instead, you nod and try to calm your heart down although you’re not sure if it’s racing because of the sudden run in or because of how he’s looking at you right now.
“Okay. Let’s see it then, Tys.”
A wild blush spreads across his cheeks at your words and he fidgets a little before ever so slowly pulling the book out from behind his back. You recognize the dark cover instantly, but the golden sticker in the corner that reads “signed copy” takes your breath away. Tyson watches your expression while holding his breath and when that look of awe takes over your facial features, adoration rushes through his veins.
“You found a signed copy of Ninth House? Like Leigh Bardugo actually signed this?” You ask, voice so quiet that nobody but Tyson would be able to hear you. Each word is tainted with shock and joy. You can’t believe he found this for you. It’s one of your very favorite books and the fact that it’s also signed by the author as well is a dream come true.
“It is. Look,” Tyson whispers, flipping to the title page where a signature is scribbled across the paper in black Sharpie. You take a sharp breath, eyes wandering over the unique mark. The smile on your face lights up Tyson’s world as you gently take the book into your hands and you blurt out the one thought on your mind that you shouldn’t say.
“I could kiss you right now.”
Tyson’s eyes go wide at the confession, but he can’t deny that he was thinking the same thing. You look absolutely beautiful like this, in your happy place and enjoying life for what it is. Everything in him wants to close the distance between the two of you and make his feelings known with a kiss. He goes so far to lean in towards you and you’re lost in your own emotions for him that his lips almost press against yours.
Except he pulls back and the moment is over almost as soon as it started.
You offer a bashful smile, directing your attention to giving him the book you chose for him and trying to ignore how badly you wanted him to kiss you. Even though the last thing you want is to ruin the incredible friendship the two of you share, everyday pushes you closer and closer to just making a move if Tyson won’t.
And considering this isn’t the first time he almost kissed you, the next one might just be your moment.
+1
“How many times have I shown you how to tie your skates and you still don’t know how to do it the right way?” Tyson asks incredulously with a shake of his head before kneeling down in front of you and propping one foot up on his leg. He unties the messy laces and begins to tighten them the way you can never master.
“Maybe it’s just an excuse for you to tie my skates instead.” You tease and make a tiny yelp when Tyson pulls the laces too tight.
“It better not be, Y/N. I don’t mind helping, but I know you’re capable of almost everything because you’re stubborn and hate letting anyone else do things for you.”
“Except for tying my skates.” You point out with a giggle as Tyson rolls his eyes and reaches for your other foot.
“Except for tying your skates.” He repeats and concentrates on the perfect technique to make sure your ankles don’t wobble in the skates while also still being loose enough that it isn’t painful. There’s a small tap against your calf to signal he’s done and then Tyson holds out his hands to you. Gratefully, you take them and stand up before taking in the scene around you.
Skyline Park in the winter time is arguably the most gorgeous place in Denver, if not the entire state of Colorado. The snow covers all the eye-catching architecture and trees through the isolated area in the city. But what makes it the most special during this time of year is the full sized ice rink that is constructed right in the middle of the park.
One of the first things Tyson introduced you to after meeting all those years ago was the rink at Skyline Park. He said that even if it was a bit touristy, you couldn’t live in Denver and not go. You hardly knew how to skate then, and still aren’t the best to this day, but Tyson held your hand almost the whole time as an attempt at support and taught you how to glide around the ice effortlessly. The whole night remains one of your favorite memories ever.
When the winter festivities list was established, skating at Skyline Park was the very first addition. To no surprise.
Now, you’re teetering on your skates and following Tyson to the rink to complete the last activity on the annual list. You couldn’t be happier to have this tradition for another year and you forget all about how subpar your skills are on the ice to just enjoy the moment.
At 10 o’clock at night, the rink is almost empty. All the tourists and enthusiastic families with little children have all gone home for the day, leaving the sheet of ice much more open. It’s the best time to come and skate plus it creates a dreamy atmosphere that you can enjoy with Tyson which might just be the part you love the most.
“Ready?” Tyson’s soft voice breaks you out of the small trance before he squeezes your hand in reassurance. His eyes are sparkling with adoration and his cheeks are red from a mixture of the cold temperature and the blush that appears whenever he’s around you.
“Ready.” You respond confidently and just like that, the sole focus becomes on enjoying the beautiful moment with the boy who has your heart. Tyson steps onto the ice first, showing no signs of struggle considering he does this for a living. A few seconds later, you join him and get used to the slippery surface beneath your skates.
“Look! Already better than last year. You almost wiped out the moment you got on the ice.” He tips his head back with a laugh, the sweet sound you adore filling the air. You can’t help but roll your eyes in response, but it’s true. With each passing year the two of you complete this part of the tradition, your skating ability gets a little bit better. Tyson still teases you about it, obviously, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Yeah, yeah. Not everyone is an NHL player like you, Tys. I’ll take my mediocre skating skills any day. I’m just happy to be here with you.” The biggest smile blossoms across his lips which sends your heart into a frenzy. You’re so in love with him that it hurts, but there’s no way you can ever admit that even if you have thought about it more often than not lately.
“Come on,” Tyson murmurs, taking your hand again and pulling you towards him. The two of you skate a few laps around the empty rink while trying to commit every detail of the moment to memory. The wind in your hair, the warmth of Tyson’s hand in yours, how light you feel on the ice, the light snow that has started to fall and most importantly, the happiness that envelops you.
Tyson keeps you laughing over stories about his teammates and you share comfortable conversations about countless topics. But soon, simple laps around the rink became a little too boring for the ball of energy who is your best friend and before you can suggest anything, Tyson gets that mischievous look on his face. Whatever he’s about to say is sure to be fun, but you’re all too familiar with the ideas of his that are nothing but trouble.
“What? What are you thinking?” You question him with a smirk, coming to a stop and facing him. Your skates bump into his and, like always, he balances you by just holding your arms stable for a few seconds.
“I was thinking,” Tyson begins, nothing but joy radiating off of him. His gaze never breaks away from yours even as he continues to speak. “That we should race. Down and back? I won’t make you go around the rink since your crossovers are pretty terrible.” You playfully hit his chest at the comment even though you’re laughing along.
“What’s in it for me? Because you know I’m going to win.”
“Winner gets bragging rights and dinner at their favorite restaurant next time we go out. And if you somehow win, I might even let you pick every movie during our next movie night.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Josty.” You announce, holding your hand out to shake. There’s no way you’re going to beat him, not with the skills he has from years and years of playing hockey, but you won’t pass up the opportunity to try. Together, you skate to one end of the rink and space yourself out along the back boards. Tyson is practically beaming and you know he loves a good competition, but you can’t tell why he’s so happy at the moment.
“On the count of three.” Tyson exclaims, settling into a starting position that looks nothing like your own. “One, two, three!” In a split second, he is already flying down the ice towards the other end. A laugh slips out of your mouth as you try to gain speed without falling down in the process. There’s a loud cheer from the curly headed boy as he reaches the opposite side, the imaginary finish line, just as you make it to the middle of the ice.
“You knew I didn’t have a chance!” You yell back through a string of giggles. But just as you catch sight of his bright smile and joyful expression, you realize there’s a small problem. With the speed you’ve picked up, it seems impossible to slow down and you don’t know how to stop quickly. Panic must flash across your face at the realization because Tyson is repeating encouraging words the closer you get.
“Tys, move!” Instead of listening to your frantic warning, he remains stationary. Before you can even try to slow yourself down, you’re colliding with him and a gasp escapes past your lips. There’s no pain from any potential injuries, just Tyson’s firm grip on you which is also keeping you upright. Immediately, guilt and apologies flood your mind because the last thing you want to do is hurt him, but he speaks up before you can.
“We have to work on teaching you how to stop.” Tyson chuckles adorably, hands settling at your waist as you slide your feet together to regain your balance. You look up from his chest and realize how little space is between the two of you. Your lips are mere inches away from his, it would take minimal effort to just lean up and kiss him. His warm breath fans across your face while those brown eyes sparkle underneath the rink lights. Hundreds of delicate snowflakes have settled among his curls making him look like a dream and his cheeks are still tinted pink.
You swear there has never been a time before now where you wanted to make your true feelings known this much. This is the boy you love more than anything. And he has no idea.
“Thank you for catching me. I’m sorry if I hurt you in the process.” Your voice is soft with emotion which doesn’t go unnoticed by Tyson. His heart is beating out of his chest because this would be the perfect moment to kiss you and confess everything that’s been weighing on his heart for years now. He pushes the thought away though to focus on making sure that you’re okay after the near accident which could’ve been worse without him acting as a buffer.
“I always have you, Y/N. You know that right? I don’t care if it’s stopping you on the ice so you don’t break a leg or being there when you need it most. You can count on me no matter what.” Tyson replies, each word full of honesty and a kind of love that is different from the friendly one you share.
There’s a tug in your chest and you can feel the atmosphere shifting with his words. Tyson has never shied away from saying what’s on his mind, which is what this feels like, but you can tell he’s struggling with letting the rest of the thought out. On instinct, you push yourself closer to him when a large gust of wind blows by and his arms wrap you up in an embrace that has you thinking one thing.
This is it. This is it. He’s finally going to do it.
His eyes flicker down to your lips for a few seconds and just as he leans in even the slightest bit, the gentle expression on his facial features changes. You know that means his mind has changed or he thought of some silly excuse to not go through with his previous actions, but you can’t take it anymore. The almost kisses over the last month have been driving you crazy and you don’t know how much longer you can hide the love you have for him.
Before he can pull back and write the moment off as if it didn’t happen, you cup one of his cheeks in your hand as the other settles at the back of his neck. You smile at how surprised he looks, but take a leap of faith and press your lips against his in a tender kiss. Tyson instantly melts into you, trying to pull you in closer and kisses you back in an effort to convey the unbelievable feelings he hasn’t found the courage to voice out loud.
The rest of the world seems to fall away and you’re aware of nothing but him. The way his lips feel against yours, how the warmth of love is spreading through your veins and how this is even better than you’ve dreamed it to be. You can’t ignore how perfect everything is in this exact moment and when Tyson smiles against your lips, it’s a telltale sign he feels the same way.
You grudgingly pull away due to needing air and reality sets in. What if that just messed everything up? It doesn’t take long for your mind to spiral and Tyson recognizes what's happening. Even though he’s still stunned in the best way possible, he doesn’t hesitate to lean in for another quick kiss as a way of quieting those thoughts.
“This may or may not be a surprise, but I’ve been trying to find the perfect time to kiss you throughout the entirety of our winter traditions. You beat me to it.” Tyson whispers, brushing your hair back and admiring how beautiful you are.
“If I didn’t do it, I wasn’t sure you ever would.” You respond with a shy chuckle, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “I’m really glad I did though. It’s really hard to hide that you’re in love with your best friend for years, you know.”
“I’ve been thinking about it for way too long. Just ask anyone on the team. But I wanted to get it right and make sure that you felt the same way. Which apparently you do.”
“I most definitely do, Tys. I most definitely do.”
hey, this is my piece for the winter fic exchange hosted by @antoineroussel and I've had so much fun participating in it! @toplinetommy this is for you! I hope you like it, it's a pleasure to dedicate this fic to you <3
pair: tyson jost x OC
word count: 3,3k
tw: cursing, heavy implication of sex
When Ava came back home from work, already thinking of taking a nap or getting herself a drink (maybe both), she was more than surprised that the door next to her apartment was wide open and that there were cardboard boxes behind it, labeled with handwritten notes such as "kitchen" or "bedroom". It's been months since the apartment has been abandoned by it's previous resident and she had to say that she liked it that way - quiet and peaceful.
"Thinking of stealing something?"
Ava quickly turned around at the sudden sound of someone's voice and her cheeks reddened with shame when she realized she was standing on the doorstep of this someone's new home, looking inside as if she wasn't inviding their privacy.
"Uh- no, sorry, I was just-" But there were no appropriate words on her mind so she just opened and closed her mouth a few times before actually taking this stranger in.
Ava's new neighbor was hot. Even without the hockey stick and gear in his arms she would easily guess that he was the sporty type of guy with all that muscle visible beneath his clothes. He had a nice face - the kind of face that would make her and probably a lot of others turn behind him on a street. The dark curly hair complemented his brown kind eyes and perfect nose.
And god, his cologne was one of the best scents she'd ever came across.
"That was a joke. I'm Tyson, by the way." He held out his hand and Ava shook it, admiring his soft yet firm grip.
"Ava. I live just next door and if I would be stealing, you would be the last person to notice."
"That's... disturbing but it's nice to meet you." Tyson's laughter was contagious and she couldn't help it but smile at the sight of it.
"Yeah, you too. See you around I guess." She was already walking away, shooting a polite smile at him over her shoulder when she stopped and turned around to face him. "Actually, I was just gonna make myself coffee, do you want some?"
Tyson gave her a look, then he eyed the things in his arms. He stepped into his apartment, laid the hockey gear and sticks on the ground and locked the door behind him before shooting her a bright smile in response.
"I'd like that very much." When Ava opened the door to her apartment Tyson walked in and (accidently or not) touched her arm with his as he was walking through the door frame where she was waiting for him to squeeze in her apartment so she could close the door behind the two of you. The air behind smelled frest and tangy.
"This is an interesting choice of color for a shoe rack." he stated as he took off his shoes and carefully put them there. Ava remembered buying it with her mum as a joke when she told her she was moving to Denver because of college. But now, the crazy neon pink reminded her of home.
"Since when are shoe racks supposed to be boring?" she objected, walking barefoot inside the kitchen, her new neighbor following her without saying anything.
"Milk?"
"Yes, thank you."
Ava wasn't a really talkative person - instead of being friends with people she had things to talk about, she preffered to befriend the ones with which she enjoyed the silence, not the awkward type but the soothing and pleasant one. Silence spoke in ways people never could.
And in this case, she liked the silence between her and this guy Tyson she met just minutes ago.
While Ava prepared the two cappuccinos, Tyson looked around her apartment, once in a while picking up some weird decoration in his hand before putting it back where it belonged.
She liked how her apartment looked - the multiple colors on the walls, cozy carpets, crazy paintings - but her favourites were the designer pieces she herself made sketches for.
"I like your couch." She heard Tyson's muffled voice from the living room. The sound was barely audible over the grinding of the coffee beans.
"Thanks. I made it."
"You're a... furniture maker?" His voice was getting closer and when Ava turned around, her eyes met his and she immediately looked back to her hands. Seeing a man in her home was an unfamiliar thing - in the two years she lived in Denver, there had never been a guy that would ever see this apartment, this part of her that made her feel vulnerable; as if Ava's home was an open book and anyone could read in it. She didn't like this feeling.
But Tyson was your new neighbor. Eventually, he would probably see it anyway so Ava tried not to make a big deal out of it.
She laughed for the first time then and he just watched her in silence.
"I'm not sure if it's even a close call but no, I'm not a furniture maker. I'm designer - you know, I design things. And you - let me guess -" she playfully put a finger to her lips so it would look like it was difficult to identify. "Are a hockey player?"
Tyson leaned against the counter, his body taking up so much space in the not-so-big kitchen that Ava felt like they were standing next to each other. Her gaze wandered to his thighs without really thinking about it, the muscles visible beneath the fabric of his gray sweatpants. Shit. She turned her eyes away and breathed in deeply, praying he didn't see her. It isn't a sin to look at a guy's thighs, Ava repeated to herself in her mind as she took one of the steaming coffee mugs and handed it to Tyson.
"Thanks, sorry about that. And yeah, I am. Was that so easy to tell?"
"You were literally out there standing with all that hockey... stuff."
"Oh, right, I forgot," he laughed, his cheeks and ears a bit red.
The two of them just stood there, sipping their coffee, occasionally saying something that could maybe count as small talk. And it was not awkward - Ava felt at peace and Tyson didn't look like he really minded the silence.
When he said it was late, she was a bit disappointed by the lack of his presence after he left. But he said he had enjoyed today and that he'd like to do this again sometime and Ava was immediately excited for that "sometime" to occur.
After two weeks of zero interaction, not even catching a glint of him in the shared halls, on the way home from work she decided to knock on his door. Just as Ava stepped into the building, she was greeted by the familiar beige walls, worn carpets and laughter. Usually, the apartment building was silent except for the occasional cries of a sleepless child or a loudly playing TV but the sound of someone laughing was new.
She didn't think much of it when the noise got louder with every step she took in the direction of Tyson's apartment. Ava realized only after she already knocked on his door and then the sudden silence felt palpable.
"Uh, hey Ava." Tyson said nervously, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans. By answering the door, the barely audible beats of some song got louder and behind his shoulders she could make out the forms of at least another two people.
"You're being too loud." she blurted out. In her mind, she screamed at herself - what she wanted to say was supposed to be something like "just checking if you're still alive" or "I see your thighs look even better in jeans" but the people behind Tyson made her hesitate and now she must look like a total idiot. That type of old neighbor that yells at kids just because they are cheerfully playing on the street - except that Ava and Tyson were about the same age.
His eyebrows shot up but he managed to look guilty instead of laughing as he answered: "Right. We'll keep it down. Do you want to join us? Some of my teammates came over and we're having pizza and playing videogames-"
"No, that's fine. Have fun though." Ava interrupted him and quickly turned away, making the two unbelievably long steps to her apartment. What was wrong with her?
"Hey," Tyson grabbed her elbow but she wiggled out of his grip. His hand fell awkwardly back to his side. She watched, confused, as he quickly stepped away from her. "Was that why you came?"
Ava looked up, his eyes already locked on hers. There was another question hanging in the air and Tyson knew that saying it aloud might be a disaster so he left it unsaid but still visible in his gaze - Am I not the reason why you came?
"Yes. That's all." The door handle was digging into Ava's ribs and the pain reminded her to breathe normally, act normally; but god, it was so hard to act as if there was nothing between the two of them.
Tyson's face became colder than it had been seconds before, a hint of disappointment crossing his features before being replaced by a sad smile.
"If you think so. Good night then, Ava." Her name rolling off his tongue made her knees go weak and she was thankful for the door behind her for keeping her body upright.
"Good night, Tys."
He closed the door behind him, not even sparing her a one last glance. The sound of music was once again muffled - just a whisper in the back of Ava's mind. She thought that she heard beats of the next song but it was only her own stupid heart beating wildly in her ribcage.
With a sigh, she covered her face with her cold sweaty hands and slid down the door til she her body connected with the floor.
But no matter what, the world kept on spinning.
...
In the next few months all the two of the neighbors exchanged were forced smiles and pleasant but awkward "hey"s and "hello"s. No phone numbers or keys to the other's apartment. It was probably better that way, anyways.
Why was it bothering her so much? They weren't even friends. Or they were but only the formal type of friends, she wasn't really sure anymore. Tyson probably thought she was his grumpy and annoying neighbor, nothing more. And Ava couldn't stand his easy smiles and the way he acted like nothing ever happened (even though that might as well be the case); slowly but without a doubt, she learned to hate those little gestures she liked about him in the first place.
She also learned to ignore him entirely - for example she was doing so at the moment, not giving a fuck about the agressive sound of the buzzer echoing through her entire place. After five more minutes Ava breathed through her nose, clearly annoyed, and closed the book she was currently reading. She breathed in, pushed agressively the talk button down and yelled back at Tyson:
"What the fuck do you want, Jost?"
"I forgot my keys at the arena. Could you let me in?"
"Hell no."
"Fuck, you're so stubborn. Why are you even angry with me this time?"
"I don't know, it's probably just an old habit."
For a moment the only sound interrupting the silence was the cracking of the connection.
"I'll make it up to you, what do you say?"
Ava cought herself smiling at the buzzer and she listened to her racing heartbeat for some time before pushing down the button that would let her neighbor into the building.
There was no indication that Tyson did so until he (exactly four minutes later) knocked at her door. Ava answered it immediately, not realizing how out of breath she looked. Flushed cheeks, heaving chest, bright eyes. But he looked exactly the same.
"How will you make it up to me, huh?"
Ava didn't argue when he kissed her, hungrily and passionately, his body answering her question well enough. She imagined that moment many times in the dark, restless nights, her fingers and lonely moans her only companions. But this was real - the curly hair she was gently pulling, the touch of his his skin against hers, the knee parting her legs with some urgency.
She was falling and then she was lying on the couch, Tyson's body pressed agaist hers and in that moment she thought to herself: if this is not what heaven is going to look like, I don't want it. Her fingers were trembling with desire as she tugged at the hem of his shirt - he helped her get rid of it.
"What do you want me to do to make it up to you?" Tyson whispered, his voice deep and full of emotion. That itself made her back arch, feeling the pleasure she was denying herself for months.
"I want you to fuck me," Ava gasped out and Tyson moved his hand to gently tuck a stray strand of her dark hair behind her ear. "I want you to fuck me so hard I'll forget everything."
"Everything but me." he grinned at her and she leaned her forehead against his, his quickened breath chilling her burning cheeks.
"Everything but you." Ava repeated and kissed him, her mind getting lost in the whirl of emotions when Tys helped her out of the rest of her clothes. As his hands roamed over her body, making her a moaning mess, she knew she would do anything for him in that moment. She was his puppet.
But most importantly, she was fucked.
...
The next morning Tyson was still asleep when she woke up, her body stiff and tired, mind filled with memories of the previous night. Ava watched his face for some time, taking in his dark long lashes and the slightly parted lips, still a bit swollen.
If she could, she would run away - but it was her apartment, not his. And they were neighbors so it wouldn't be so easy to never see him again the way she did with all of her other one-nighters.
Ava found a temporary solution - she will make herself coffee and then think about all this mess. With a groan she got out of bed and her knees nearly gave out. It took her more time than usual to get herself to the kitchen but she used the counters as a support.
"'Thinking of stealing something?'" she quoated Tyson's first words to her when she noticed he was silently walking through her living room, clearly no longer asleep, his hair a curly mess, picking up random things and then putting them back down.
"'If I would be stealing, you would be the last person to notice.'" he grinned at her, answering with one of her own lines. His eyes were brighter than usual and his shoulder seemed more relaxed.
"Do you want some coffee?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
Ava deliberately ignored his presence filling up her kitchen and looked up only when Tyson joisted himself up on her countertop. He was wearing only his boxers and she stared at his body for a moment before taking two mugs from the cupboard.
"Hey, stop ignoring me, Ava."
She kept her eyes on the hot dark fluid dripping into the mugs.
"I'm not-" Tyson wrapped his hand around her waist but still left Ava some free space in the embrace. She felt his body tense behind her as if he was awaiting some kind of negative reaction from her, maybe expecting her to scream at him or something that kind of ridiculous.
"I really like you, you know. And I figured you liked me too-"
"Why on earth do you think I’m into you?"
"You always use that sweet nickname for me, remember?"
"'fucking idiot’ is not a sweet nickname, you know."
Tyson laughed and Ava smiled softly, leaning into his touch a bit more.
"And I want to take you out on a date, not just to fuck you on your couch." he continued, strenghtening his grip on her hips with confidence.
"Designer couch. Don't forget about that. You'll never fuck on another couch like this."
Ava turned around and handed Tyson the steaming cup of coffee. With a sigh he let go of her.
"Okay," she said, really thinking about his words. "I'm usually not a relationship type of girl but if the date you're promising me makes me forget about everything but you, then we can try to make this work."
...
It certainly did make her forget everything but him. Tyson really put an effort into that date, thinking through every little detail. Still, her favourite part of the night wasn't the pottery class they took (even though the pair of mugs in the shape of hearts they made looks rather lovely in her kitchen). It was the time they sat on the couch at his place, exhausted and smiling like idiots, making out and cuddling under a soft blanket with some funny sitcom playing in the background.
And it all faded into nothing when Ava looked at her neighbor, kissing the tip of his nose. The smell of his cologne itself made her feel safe and she secretly sniffed at his t-shirt a few times that evening.
"You were right." she stated suddenly.
"Of course I was. About what?" Ava jabbed him with her elbow, laughing.
"About the relationship thingy-thing. I want to try it. Fuck, I want it to work. I like this... cuddling or what is it called."
Tyson laughed with his lips pressed to her neck and the sound reverberated through her entire body.
"So... do you want to cuddle as a couple or what?"
Ava hummed in agreement and played with his fluffy hair for a moment before she breathed out:
"I'm just scared that it could end badly if it doesn't work out."
"You already hate me. How worse could it get?"
"I don't hate you. But," she raised a finger in the air, acting overly dramatic, "I hate how much I actually like your stupid ass."
Tyson leaned closer and gave Ava an annoyed look before he kissed her, his lips tasting like the sweet popcorn they were devouring in mouthfuls.
"I like your stupid ass too."
...
It was driving everyone crazy how private their relationship actually was. They didn't try to keep it a secret but they also never really told anyone that they were dating.
"Everyone probably already knows so why bother," was Tyson's justification and Ava couldn't help it but agree with him. She enjoyed their privacy and she might have been a little afraid that publicity could ruin the experience for her.
Even after months spent together, they never really moved in together - they just left pieces of themselves in the other's apartment. Like when Ava bought Tyson a brand new shoe reck, same as hers except for the color - this one was neon green. Or how he in return gave her an excessive number of blankets because there was no way he could lie on the couch next to her, not covered in at least three layers of them.
Ava was supportive - she came to every game of his she could manage to attend and secretly she enjoyed the silence that ruled over her place when Tyson left for road trips. But as he kept on filling up a bigger and bigger part of her heart, she realized she missed him sometimes, when there was noone keeping her warm and making her feel safe. Noone telling those bad and cringeworthy jokes she learned to adore. Noone to whom she'd rant about her day and who would actually listen to her.
Noone who would understand what she was saying even if she didn't say anything at all.
When he got back from the trips, he made it a tradition to bring her flowers and Ava didn't have the heart to tell him she hated colourful plants because she loved how lid up his face was when he'd hand them to her. She just kept on smiling an honest smile as she put them in a vase so they wouldn't fade as quickly.
"I love you." she whispered quietly when they lay in bed, her fingers playing with Tyson's curls. Ava though he was already sleeping but his eyes suddenly shot open and there was a silence between them she couldn't really put a name to.
"Thank god," he signed. "For a moment I thought I heard you saying "Tyson is the best person in the world" and I thought you were sick or something."
"You fucking idiot," Even with the frown on her face she couldn't help but laugh.
"Hey," Tyson said softly. "I love you two, of course."
There was a warm feeling inside of her body and she couldn't get enough of it.
Ava wanted to say something sarcastic in response but his eyelids drooped by then.
She tucked a stray curl of his hair behind his ear and kissed him softly on both of his eyelids.
I might hate a lot of things, she thought to herself then. I might hate everything. But there is no way I'll hate you. Everyone, everything but you.
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Imagine cuddling with Josty and running your fingers through his curls.
tys seems like a softie that would ask you to play with his hair after a really long day so it becomes routine for him to settle on the couch with his head on your lap as you play with his hair, an old sitcom rerun playing softly in the background
Tyson and Maddie. Anything your heart desires here that you feel like sharing. Preferably not sad.
xx 🫶🏻💜
Hope It Never Ends
a/n: I love you 💜 anon for always reminding me how much I love these two. This is a little flashback moment to Tys and Maddie's past, back when they were teenagers in Kelowna. Back when things were simple but perhaps the beginning of something more...
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: none that I can think of!
Sacred: (adjective) regarded with reverence. Synonyms include cherished, divine, revered.
There weren’t a lot of things that Madeleine Murphy considered powerful and important enough to consider sacred – except one tradition.
Summer evenings when Tyson and she would climb out of her bedroom window onto the roof, sitting on an old blanket, playing twenty-questions, and staring at the sunset.
Even though Madeleine always prided herself on her wordplay (she wanted to be a librarian after all), perhaps tradition wasn’t the correct term. There was never a specific time or date that this ritual happened. It was just something that they had been doing since they were 13, shortly after they met and realized that they were bound to be more than just schoolmates.
Madeleine showed him her discovery of how to remove the window screen, allowing her roof access the summer after they first met. Looking back, she did it because she wanted Tyson to think she was cool – what better way to get an adolescent boy’s attention than by doing something that you probably shouldn’t be doing? It worked and soon that was their go-to spot whenever they hung out.
The twenty-questions, however, was Tyson’s idea. It was a way to get to know each other but as a game instead of an interrogation. At first, all the questions were surface level: what’s your favorite color, what’s the best holiday, what’s the coolest thing you own? But eventually, both the location and the questions became deeper and more meaningful as time went on.
The roof of Madeleine’s childhood home became an oasis, somewhere they could sit and be alone and share without the pressure of parents or friends or teachers or coaches listening and potentially influencing their answers. It was a place of trust and truth.
Those moments with him became sacred to Maddie.
And this one, right now, she might soon consider to be the most sacred of them all. Because Tyson was leaving.
It wasn’t for another year, something she kept reminding herself when that fact popped into her head and took all sense of calm from her. He had committed to playing hockey in North Dakota starting in the 2016-17 season. This was still the summer of 2015. Tyson would stay here in the small town they shared together for another twelve months. Madeleine would still be able to sit with him on the roof for maybe another summer.
But there was an ache in her heart that told her this might be last.
“Oh, I got one,” Tyson’s voice dances on the summer breeze, pulling Maddie from her thoughts and back to the present moment, something she should’ve been focusing on anyway. “What’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?”
It’s almost immediate, the image that pops in her mind and she can’t stop the laugh and shake of her head as she considers telling him the answer.
“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she sighs, her blue eyes bright as she looks over to him.
“I already think you’re crazy so what’s a little more weirdness?” Tyson gently teases, his easy joy relaxing her like it always did.
“Okay, fine,” she sighs, in part defeat and part disbelief that she was going to tell him this. “When I was six, I had a nightmare that I was being chased through the city streets by a giant wheel of cheese.”
“A wheel of cheese? Like a monster that looked like a wheel of cheese?”
“Nope, just a regular wheel of cheese that you’d see in a grocery store. And the way I escaped this wheel of cheese was by standing right where a triangle slice of it was cut out of it, so when it rolled over me, I was completely unharmed.”
If Tyson was keeping a serious poker face before, it crumbled at Madeleine’s explanation, his sputtering laughter making her cheeks heat in embarrassment.
“Wow, Maddie, that’s really terrifying.”
“I was six, okay!” she rebuts, her outrage ringing false as her own laughter paints the words. “And I think being chased is a very reasonable nightmare to have.”
“Yeah, but once you throw cheese into that situation, you’ve lost me completely.”
“You asked for weirdest dream not most realistic. What about you, Jost?”
“I don’t remember any of my dreams,” Tyson quips, that stupidly cocky smirk appearing on his face making Maddie scoff.
“What a cop out. Here I am, bearing my soul to you and you hit me with an I don’t know,” Madeleine says, her voice ladened with exaggeration.
“I can at least tell you that last summer, my mom tried to wake me up to go to the store with her or something and I said in my sleep – and I quote – but I don’t want to put up the Christmas lights,” Tyson replies, his own voice going into the grumbling whine as he relays his sleep-talking.
There is no stopping the laughter that falls from Maddie, the image perfectly clear to her as she had heard him mumble in his sleep multiple times during their previous sleepovers. Tyson just laughs with her before continuing.
“Like, it’s the middle of summer, Christmas is far away, I think you’re safe, bud.”
“You said no to your mom though? Impressive.”
“I didn’t say no, I just said I didn’t want to do it. There’s a difference, Maddie.”
Madeleine just hums a yeah sure sound, staring back out at the sun slowly sinking down, turning the skies a beautiful cotton candy pink.
These were the moments that Maddie would cherish forever; she thinks. No matter what happened, she would remember the evenings spent on her roof, her and her best friend’s laughter dancing and mingling in the air. But the knowledge of the possible ending hits her again, like a tidal wave crashing on her.
She would remember this forever but part of her didn’t want it to become just a memory. She wanted to be doing this with Tyson when they were in their twenties, in their thirties, up till the point that they couldn’t climb out of her bedroom window. The idea of a time without Tyson by her side was terrifying.
“What scares you most about the future?” she asks, her own racing thoughts forcing the question out of her mouth before she could stop to think it over.
Her blue eyes flit over to Tyson, the weight of her question fully registering, the smile disappearing from his mouth as his own gaze moves to look at the sunset. She can practically see the wheels turning in his head, can see him chewing over the possible answers that he could give her. Madeleine just keeps her attention on him, watching as Tyson’s shoulders raise in a sigh, his legs bending as he pulls his knees to his chest. Her heart tries not to ache at the sight of him looking so much like a little kid.
“I’m scared that I’m not going to be good enough,” he whispers.
Maddie can feel the honesty in his words and the genuine fear behind them. She doesn’t speak, just lets the silence linger, letting Tyson make the next decision; whether to deflect the question back to her or to elaborate. He chooses the latter.
“I feel like I’ve given so much of my life to this dream of playing hockey and I want it so badly but what if I never get there.”
“To the NHL?”
“Yeah, or what if I do but at some point, people decide they don’t want me anymore. I get traded or sent down to the minors or something else. I think that scares me more then never getting there. That there would be a moment, after all this hard work, where I’d have to accept that it’s not going to work out and I’ll have to give it all up.”
There isn’t really anything to say except false promises, promises that Madeleine knows she can’t keep. She couldn’t see the future, couldn’t tell Tyson that he would make it and that he wouldn’t have to give up playing hockey until he decided it was time. So, she just lets his words linger and keeps her eyes fixed on him, staring at his profile, memorizing the way his hair falls, the way he looks with his chin resting on his knees. It is a moment longer before Tyson sighs again, giving a small shake of his head, his body relaxing and stretching back out into its casual position before he looks back at her.
“Your turn.”
“I’m scared of things changing,” she answers immediately, the truth just tumbling from her lips like a waterfall. It’s her turn to sigh as she chews over her answer, her head slightly shaking at the ridiculousness of her fear before continuing.
“Like, I know change is a part of life and there is no use trying to resist is because things will change whether you want them to or not. But I like it here. Not just here in Kelowna, but here. This moment; hanging out with you, no curfew, no real responsibilities, no pressure. No worries about bills or relationships or jobs or school or any of that. I just want to keep a hold of these summer evenings forever. If I could repeat this moment every day for the rest of my life, I’d be content.”
Madeleine’s eyes turn to stare at the clouds now painted with the pastel hues of tangerine oranges and peach pink, the view just adding to the magic of this moment and just emphasizing how much of this was temporary.
“I just never want this to end,” she confesses, her words lingering in the evening stillness.
Tyson doesn’t speak immediately, just lets the silence fall, the only noise being the beginning chirps of the crickets. However, Maddie can feel his eyes trained on her face, seemingly memorizing the shape of her as she previously did to him.
“Well then, let’s promise each other something,” he finally speaks. The conviction in his voice causes Maddie’s gaze to turn to him, their eyes locking, and she is taken back by the seriousness reflecting in his pupils. “Let’s promise that no matter what happens, even if everything around us changes, we’ll still be there for each other. Okay?”
“Okay,” Madeleine whispers, her voice soft but the certainty behind her agreement strong.
The quiet peace washes over them again, their promise floating on the wind as they both lean back, looking out at the sunset, content to be together but lost in their own world, their own fears, their own minds. But it only lasts for a moment, the physical and mental space between them shattered as Madeleine feels the brush of a pinky against hers. She glances down to see Tyson’s finger reaching out to hers, caressing the side of her hand, a quiet coax. Her eyes dart back to his face but his gaze remains staring towards the sun. As if he was worried on how she’d react.
Madeleine assuages those concerns by linking her pinky with his, the childhood symbol of a promise never to break. A smile pulls at her lips when she sees Tyson sigh, his brown eyes looking towards her, a matching grin tugging at the corner of his lips. She doesn’t hesitate to lift their intertwined hands, her lips pressing against her own knuckles as a way to show she meant it, an action which Tyson mirrors. Their eyes lock and it takes every bit of Maddie’s willpower to stop her heart from leaping from her chest. Because the way Tyson is staring at her – with the gentle assurance and adoration – makes everything feel different.
This wasn’t the first pinky promise that they’ve made in the four years of knowing each other. But in this moment, they weren’t just a couple of kids making deals for the hell of it.
This meant more. It wasn’t something frivolous or flimsy – it was a vow, an oath, to the universe, to each other.
summary - New Year’s Eve usually signifies the hope that a fresh start brings. And after a New Year’s party, that seems true for Maddie. But for Tyson, he is left wondering if he’s ruined his new year before it even had the chance to begin.
word count - 3.9k (plus edits)
warnings - alcohol consumption
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“A Mediterranean cruise?” Maddie says, her face scrunching incredulously although her parents can’t see her expression from the other end of the line.
“Yes! With stops in Italy, France, and Spain. Can you believe it?” her mother squeals.
“I’m sorry, I’m still just trying to wrap my head around the fact that you guys won a vacation… by watching Wheel of Fortune.”
“It was a giveaway – you know the ones where if the contestant wins, you could win – and they finally pulled our Spin ID!” Madeleine’s mother explains for what feels like the dozenth time since Maddie accepted their call. “But, there is some bad news.”
“You aren’t bringing your favorite child along with you?” Maddie sighs dramatically, before taking a sip of her coffee.
“You’re our only child, honey,” her dad chimes in from the background.
“Makes it easy to be the favorite then.”
“Well, yes, there’s only two tickets,” her mother says, the worry in her voice dragging out the sentence.
“Mom, I was just joking,” Madeleine huffs out a little laugh at her mother’s concern that she was seriously upset about not being able to go. “What’s the actual bad news?”
“It takes place at the end of December.”
This time, her mother’s confession did make Maddie place her coffee cup back down on the café table, her eyebrows furrowing at the implication.
“You mean, during Christmas?”
“Yes. I know that you wanted to visit, honey, and we want to see you and hear all about Colorado but… we couldn’t turn this down.” Madeleine can feel her heart softening with her mother’s gentle explanation.
“No, I totally get it. You guys deserve to have a vacation, especially one as awesome as this,” she replies, a smile forming on her face. “Besides, airplane tickets are expensive and I am a broke college student again.”
“Except you’re not a student,” her dad teases, his voice now coming through the phone clearer as he sits down next to her mom, the shifting of the fabric crackling through the phone.
“A broke college employee, then,” she quips back.
“Fair enough. Alright, Lanes, we gotta get going okay. But we’ll talk to you later, okay?”
The chime of the front door pulls Madeleine’s attention towards the sound to see Ashley walking into the café, her vintage briefcase pack slung over her shoulder.
“Sounds good,” Maddie says, lifting her hand to catch Ashley’s eye. The brunette responds to her wave with a nod, walking through the crowd towards her. “Ashley just got here so it’s a good time to say bye.”
“Ditching us for your cool new Colorado friends?”
“If I told you that it was Tyson, would you feel differently?”
The contrasting answers of her dad’s “no” and her mom’s “yes” has Madeleine breaking out into giggles.
“Well, we don’t have time to unpack all of that, so I’m going to hang up now. Love you, miss you, send me tons of pictures of Italy and Spain,” Maddie says.
“And France! Don’t forget France,” her mother calls out.
“How could we ever forget France?”
“Goodbye, sweetheart. Stay safe, have fun, and we’ll talk to you soon,” her father says.
The three of them finish uttering their goodbyes and Madeleine hits the disconnect button at almost the exact moment Ashley sits down across from her.
“What this I hear about France?” Ashley asks, taking a sip from her insulated water bottle, her expressive and inquisitive eyes landing on Madeleine.
“My parents are going on a Mediterranean cruise over the holidays,” Maddie explains. “Which unfortunately means that I will be alone on Christmas.”
“Nonsense, you can come over to mine. It’s just going to be me, Amber, and Dominic,” Ashley says, referencing her partner and their adorable three-year old son.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. No one should spend the holiday alone.”
*~*~*~*~*
*~*~*~*~*
*~*~*~*~*
*~*~*~*~*
Four months.
In approximately 5 and a half hours, it would’ve been four months since Madeleine packed her bags and moved out of the country that she had previously called home, leaving so many memories behind.
And that was the best decision she’s ever made. She had a great job, a great apartment, great friends. She had never been happier. And, of course, there was Tyson.
Tyson, who told her about all the best restaurants in the Denver area. Tyson, who added her to his family ticket list so she could see the Avs play any time she wanted. Tyson, who sent her weird memes and random texts while he was on the road. Tyson, who somehow managed to make time for her despite his hectic schedule. Tyson, who invited her as a plus-one to almost every team event.
Like tonight.
Madeleine stops staring out the passenger window to look towards her best friend, his hands on the steering wheel, the streetlights illuminating his profile.
“Hey, thanks for this,” she says, her voice soft.
“You’re always my plus-one Maddie,” Tyson laughs. “Besides, I think that if I didn’t bring you, I’d get an earful about if from Gabe and Mel. They seem to like you more than they like me.”
“Maybe that’s because I’m so much more responsible than you are,” Maddie teases.
“So, I can’t tell them about that one summer in high school where you - ”
“If you finish that sentence, we can’t be friends anymore.”
“We’re friends because I can finish that sentence.”
“And we pinky promised to never talk about that again,” Madeleine quips back. Tyson glances over at her and she can see that boyish sparkle in his eyes, one that was surely reflected in hers.
“You know I’d never break a pinky promise.”
“You were dangerously close.”
Tyson just chuckles, a soft shake of his head as he turns into Gabe’s neighborhood. Madeleine looks out the window again and sees the cars already lining the Landeskog’s lengthy driveway. After somehow managing to parallel park, Tyson hops out and walks around to opening the door for Madeleine. She easily takes his hand, exiting from the car and moving to tug at the hem of her black dress.
“I’m not overdressed, right?” she asks, her blue eyes darting to Tyson. She watches as Tyson’s eyes trail down her body, taking in her outfit for the second time that night.
“You look great,” Tyson says. “And if you are overdressed, it just means you’ll be the best dressed here.”
His encouraging compliment makes her blush, a soft smile appearing on her lips. Tyson returns her grin before he leading her up the driveway and to the Landeskog’s front door.
The party seems to be in full swing when Tyson opens the door, the sound of music and chatter hitting Madeleine’s eardrums. She lets Tyson take her grey trench coat from her as she walks deeper into the house, her boots tapping on the hardwood floor. She rounds the corner into Gabe’s expansive living room, her eyes scanning over the crowd of faces. Before she can even decide who to greet first, a squeal of her name from across the room calls her attention.
“MADELEINE!!!”
Maddie barely has time to turn before Sydney is crashing into her, pulling her into a tight hug.
“I’m so happy you’re here. Is Tyson with you?”
“Right here,” Tyson’s voice sounds behind Maddie. Both her and Sydney turn to see him wandering into the room.
“Perfect. Can you go talk to your boyfriend? He’s driving me crazy.”
Tyson just responds to Sydney’s exasperation with a laugh before he disappears into the crowd to find his ginger best friend.
“What’s JT doing now?” Maddie asks.
“Nothing,” Sydney replies, hooking her arm in Madeleine’s. “It’s just easier to steal you away from your boyfriend by distracting him with mine.”
“I’ve told you before; Tyson isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just didn’t want him hovering over you the entire night – which he would have!” Sydney says, pulling Madeleine into the kitchen. “Boy needs to learn that separation is healthy.”
“We hadn’t seen each other for five entire years before we reconnected. I think we can handle being separated at a party for five hours.”
“We’ll see about that. Now red or white wine?”
Once a full cup of red wine is securely placed in Madeleine’s hand, Sydney brings her back into the main room, the two of them finding a free space on the couch to squeeze into. They spend a few minutes there, catching each other up on their respective lives – Syndey about her holiday break and Maddie about her dread concerning the upcoming semester and the workload it brings to her job.
Eventually, Sydney gets pulled into another conversation and Maddie takes the opportunity to get up and wander around the party. She waves hello to a few people, briefly talks to Andre, asking him how he was settling in, before getting roped into a game of pool with Nate and Mikko – a matchup which she miserably fails at. She departs from the table with the excuse of needing to get a consolatory drink. When she wanders back into the living room with a freshly refilled glass in her hand, her eyes take in the scene in front of her.
Even in the hubbub and the chaos of dozens of bodies and voices, a sense of calm falls over her. There was still a part of her that couldn’t believe this was her life. Here she was, in an expensive house surrounded by people who made more money than she could ever hope to, and these faces that used to be strangers were now people she considered to be her friends.
And it was all thanks to Tyson.
She looks around, trying to locate him amongst the crowd of people, her ears pricked for the sound of his laugh. It takes a few moments before her eyes land on his frame; tucked against a wall and having a conversation with Cale. She starts to walk over to them, weaving her way through the crowd but by the time she gets to the opposite end of the room, Cale had vanished.
“Hey, Tys,” Maddie says, walking those last few steps towards him. “Where’s Cale?”
“Oh, he just went to get a drink, I think,” Tyson replies, his body slouched against the wall. Madeleine steps next to him, her body mirroring his as she takes a sip of her wine.
“What were you guys talking about?”
“Nothing really. Just wanted to ask me a question.”
The natural follow-up to that statement was to ask what the question was. But there was something in Tyson’s clipped words and tone that warned Madeliene to not pull on that thread. So, she didn’t.
“I need to perfect my pool skills,” she laughs, turning the conversation to a new topic. “I can’t keep embarrassing myself in front of your friends every time a pool cue is shoved into my hands.” A small rush of relief flows through her when she sees Tyson visibly relax, that crooked grin appearing on his lips.
“Who’d you lose to this time?”
“Nate. And Mikko.”
“Well, playing against Nate was your first mistake. That man takes everything way too seriously. You never stood a chance,” Tyson jokes, poking fun at his teammate.
“Did you ever find JT?”
“Yeah. Don’t know what Sydney was complaining about. He seemed fine.”
“She actually just wanted to steal me away from you.”
“She’s gonna have to try harder than that.”
It is ridiculous at how fast the butterflies form in Madeleine’s stomach at his words, at the way he looks down at her with a gentle smile playing at his lips. She just takes another sip of from her wine glass, hoping that if Tyson decides to chirp her about the blush in her cheeks, she can blame it on the alcohol.
She glances back at Tyson, ready to breeze over… whatever that moment was. But before she could utter a single syllable, she hears her name being called from across the room.
“Madeleine!” Sydney’s voice raises above the din and Madeleine looks over the crowd to see the blonde waving her over to the bar, JT by her side.
“Speak of the devil,” Tyson chuckles, taking another swig of his beer. Madeleine just shoots him a small apologetic smile before pushing herself off the wall and making her way to Sydney.
Turns out Sydney just wanted her help convincing JT that Italy was the better vacation spot for their summer getaway instead of Barbados. The pictures conveniently stored on Madeliene’s phone were a good bargaining chip, along with the glowing testimonials from her parents about the coastal towns – information that Sydney knew Madeleine had, hence the summoning.
“I feel like I’m being ganged up on,” JT jokes, smiling at his girlfriend.
“We are just providing actual proof from people we know and trust, not random strangers on the internet.”
“Well, in that case, let me find Burky. I think he went to Barbados once.”
“No! That’s not fair,” Sydney protests, quickly grabbing her boyfriend’s arm.
“How so?”
“Because I’m your girlfriend and you have to agree with me. Those are just the rules.” Sydney’s elbow moves to jostle Madeleine. “Tell him, Maddie.”
“Sorry, I’m with JT on this one. We presented our evidence, now it’s only reasonable that he presents his.”
“Thank you, Madeleine,” JT laughs before turning a satisfied smirk towards Sydney.
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Sydney whines, the sentence directed to both Madeleine and JT before she turns her full attention to her boyfriend.
Madeleine just shakes her head, a smile on her face as she puts her phone back in her purse. With a sigh, she rests her elbows against the marble countertop, looking out over the crowd as Syd and JT carry on their playful argument next to her. Another sip of red wine moves down her throat, the pleasant buzz settling in her sternum, before her eyes look up and connect with the baby blue eyes of Cale making his way towards her. She smiles at him, one that he returns, his usually rosy cheeks growing a shade redder. Madeleine chalks it up to alcohol as Cale appears directly in front of her.
“Hey, Madeleine,” Cale says, moving to stand next to her by the island.
“Hey, Cale. How you doing?”
“Pretty good. You?”
“Good. Party is fun,” Madeleine replies, her eyes dancing down Cale’s frame. It might have been her years of constantly observing people that made it easy for her to read body language, but it wouldn’t take an expert to notice that Cale Makar was nervous.
His shoulders were stiff, his arms crossed in front of him, a beer bottle hanging from his hand. And while he was trying to appear casual by leaning his body against the marble countertop, he seemed like he was trying a little too hard. Madeleine just listens to him talk, a bemused smile playing on her lips.
“Yeah, Mel usually does a good job with these kinds of get-togethers.”
“I’m sure she does.”
“Yeah. I mean Gabe helps out but it’s really all Mel,” Cale continues, the words a little stuttered.
“Cale,” Madeleine says, her voice a little sharper, the tone of it calling Cale’s eyes to connect with her. “What are you doing?”
“What?”
“Are you actually trying to regale me with Mel’s party planning or did you come here for something other reason or are you just drunk and can’t think of anything else to talk about?” she teases, watching the flush on Cale’s cheeks once again darken. “Any of which are perfectly fine options. It is a party after all.”
“Yeah, right,” Cale says, his free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “I – um – did actually come over to ask you something.”
The deep inhale that Cale makes is noticeable, his chest rising with the action. His eyes close as he gathers his thoughts before turning his body completely to Maddie, his gaze locking with hers.
“Will you go on a date with me?”
“What?” Madeleine asks, the words hitting her unexpectedly, her smile slightly faltering as she takes in his request.
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Cale reiterates, his blue eyes wide and earnest. His question finally fully registers and her immediate response is a grin tugging at the corner of her lips.
“I would love to go on a date with you, Cale.”
“Really?” Cale asks, making damn sure he was hearing correctly.
His need for reassurance makes her laugh, the smile growing. Madeleine doesn’t hesitate to put her drink down on the island before throwing her arms around Cale. The hug catches him off-guard but it isn’t long until his arms are wrapping around her tighter, holding her close. She finally pulls away, her blonde hair tickling her cheeks.
“Yes, Cale. Really,” she restates. Her response makes Cale visibly relax, his own excited smile appearing on his face. There is a brief pause before Cale pulls her into another quick hug.
“Hey, you two,” a feminine voice sounds from behind Madeleine which causes Cale and her to break their hug, Maddie turning back to Sydney. “Are you coming into the living room for the ball drop?”
“Yeah, we’ll be there,” Madeleine replies, her smile not waning from her face. Sydney rolls her eyes as she takes JT’s hand, pulling him away from the kitchen. Before they completely disappear around the corner, JT shoots Cale a thumbs up. The gesture causes Maddie to turn around to face Cale, one eyebrow raised in question.
“Some of the guys may have been hyping me up earlier tonight.”
“That’s pretty damn adorable, Cale,” Madeleine replies before cocking her head towards the living room. “Shall we?”
Cale happily follows her in, the room already packed with almost the entire guest list. They two of them squish themselves into one of the back corners, the Time’s Square Rocking New Years broadcast displayed on the flat screen hanging above the fireplace.
The minute countdown begins, a cheer going up from the living room. The lingering conversation slowly dwindles as the clock does; the voices that were previously speaking about anything else now joining into the countdown. Madeleine eagerly joins in, the rumble of Cale’s deep timbre right beside her.
“Five… Four… Three… Two… One… HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!”
The hurrah is almost deafening as everyone raises their glasses. Madeleine takes in the celebration around her, smiling at the multitude of couples kissing, starting the New Year with their loved ones by their side. A small chuckle escapes her as she sees EJ lean in to place a smooch on Gabe’s cheek after the two of them pull away from their respective partners.
Madeleine is content to kiss the edge of her wine glass and take another sip of alcohol, a celebration similar to most of the other single guests. But she is slightly caught off guard when she feels an arm loop around her waist, gently pulling her into a strong frame before she feels the sensation of a kiss being pressed onto the top of her hair.
Her head turns, that broad smile on her lips as she looks up at Cale, her blue eyes sparkling in delight.
“You know, for someone who needed hype-men and liquid courage to ask me out earlier tonight, you seem pretty comfortable now,” she chirps.
“Eh, I can blame all that liquid courage,” Cale shrugs, a teasing smirk on his lips. Maddie can’t help the giggles that fall from her lips at his 180-degree attitude change before relaxing into Cale’s hold, her back leaning against his chest.
The mere possibility that her saying yes to his request for a date was the reason for his newfound confidence warmed her from the inside out. Which was good because in the back of her mind, she had noticed a small chill enter the room.
The sound of a loud splash echoes in from outside, almost everyone’s attention turning to the open back door. Curiosity takes a hold of the party, guests pushing into the backyard. Madeleine is among the first few to make walk out onto the porch.
The water of the Landeskog’s outdoor pool is still rippling, the dark shape of a body under the water unrecognizable until the person breaks the surface. Madeleine shakes her head the instant she recognizes the face.
“What are you doing, Tyson?” she laughs, walking closer to the pool’s edge, her boots lightly splashing in the puddles on the concrete from Tyson’s cannonball.
“Going for a swim,” Tyson replies with a shrug of his shoulders.
“In the middle of winter?”
“Pool’s heated.”
Madeleine just laughs again, shaking her head at her best friend’s antics. Her eyes are bright and her cheeks hurt from smiling when her gaze reconnects with Tyson’s, a similar expression painted on his face.
“Care to join me?” he asks, one arm beckoning to the open expanse of the water.
“You’re crazy, Josty.”
“And you love me for it.”
If Madeleine hadn’t been distracted by the action of zipping off her boots and if her mind was cleared of the halo that the previous glasses of wine provided, perhaps she would have heard the weight behind Tyson’s words: that soft and subtle plea. A silent question that was begging for the answer ‘of course I do’ to fall from Madeleine’s lips.
But when Madeleine takes a few steps back before take a running leap into the pool, her body swimming up next to Tyson’s, it seems approval enough. If not for Tyson, then for the other guests to follow their lead, the heated water filling with bodies.
Maddie swims up to Tyson, her arms reaching out to him. Tyson easily extends his reach, his own arms taking a hold of her waist, supporting her as hers rest on his shoulders as they both tread water. Madeleine looks around, loving the smiling faces around her before she looks back to Tyson. He is staring at her, his lips curled in a small smile.
“Still think you’re the responsible one out of the two of us? Convincing everyone to jump in the pool?” Tyson jokes, referencing their previous conversation in the car.
“I think that statement is still accurate,” Madeleine quips. She can see Tyson’s eyebrow raise in question, silently demanding an explanation. “When it was just you in here, people thought you were being weird. When I jumped in, they realized what an amazing idea it was.”
The laughter that falls from Tyson is intoxicating, warming Madeleine more than the heated water ever could, as he directs his brown eyes back to her.
“So, you’re saying that I need you to make my wild ideas seem logical?”
“You always need me Josty,” she teases. “But I also need you. That’s what being friends means, right?”
His smile stumbles, the downturn of his lips so fast and subtle. It was a falter that anyone else could easily miss, but not Madeleine.
“Right,” Tyson replies, his voice twinged with melancholy. Madeleine is about to ask what was wrong but before she can speak, Tyson’s blinding grin is back, his eyes holding no trace of sadness. “Happy New Year, Maddie.”
The change in his demeanor is so drastic that Madeleine convinces herself that she must have imagined it.
“Happy New Year, Tys,” she replies before turning her head back to crowd of people splashing around her.
The joy and laughter from everyone’s lips fills the quiet night, the hope of a new year thrumming through the air. But in her reminiscing, Madeleine misses the subtle flex of her best friend’s hands on her waist.
summary - what’s that saying? drunk words are sober thoughts? after a night out at a bar with the team, Madeleine is left wondering if drunk actions mean the same.
word count - 4k
warnings - alcohol consumption & cheating, kind of (you’ll understand)
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Although the air was still sharp and crisp with the chill of winter, Madeleine’s life had never felt warmer. And that heat had nothing to do with the bodies packed into the downtown Denver bar adjacent to the Pepsi Center. Or, at least not the bodies of strangers.
Instead, it was the bodies of Avalanche players and their partners – her friends – crowded in the corner section of the bar that made Madeleine feel as if the joy and happiness of summer was surrounding her constantly. Part of her still couldn’t believe that this was her life – a life that had changed so rapidly in the past seven months. But when Gravy handed her another tequila shot with a smirk, she gladly accepts, thinking that if this was a dream that she would eventually wake from, she wanted to make the most of every moment offered.
The tequila goes down her throat with a concerning ease and she leans back against Cale’s shoulder, sitting next to her. She can feel his chuckle, his body angling towards her causing her to sink deeper into his embrace.
“Still doing alright?” he whispers into her hair. Madeleine just looks back at him, never tiring at sight of his normally rosy cheeks darkening whenever he drinks.
“Never better,” she replies with a grin, one that Cale reciprocates before he leans in and places a soft kiss on her lips.
The connection that she had shared with Cale was a little over a month old and so far, it was really nice. He was genuine, respectful, and sweet. It was refreshing, especially since this was the first time she dated since Logan; a relationship that ended up being filled with deception and disdain.
Her relationship with the defensemen was still casual – nothing permanently defined, nothing official. But Madeleine liked it that way. It was easier.
An all too familiar laugh pulls her attention away from Cale, her eyes moving to were Tyson stood at the dartboard with JT, a beer in his hand as he watched his friend throw.
“I’m gonna go see if Tyson is losing,” she jokes, pushing away from Cale and scooting out of the booth seat. Cale’s only reply is a small nod before turning back to the conversation he was having with Nate and Mikko. Madeleine slips out of the corner section her friends claimed, weaving her way through the crowd until she reaches the dartboard area where Tyson and JT stood.
“Who’s winning?” she calls out, the two pairs of brown eyes looking towards her as she hops onto one of the barstools at the tables lining the wall.
“Tyson,” JT replies. “But not by much.” Madeleine watches as JT gathers his dart before walking away, Tyson taking his place behind the tape on the hardwood floor.
“I’m just surprised he is winning,” she laughs, her eyes turning towards her best friend.
“Hey, I was pretty good at this back in high school,” Tyson says, the joking indignation clear in his voice as he lines up his shot.
“Lucky for you, the red and green on the board aren’t relevant to the point system. If they did, it might be a little harder for your colorblind eyes.”
JT lets out a snort of a laugh, almost inhaling his beer next to Madeleine. Her blue eyes sparkle with humor as Tyson shoots her a playful glare before collecting his darts from the board.
“Even if they meant anything, you’ve still never managed to beat me,” he teases, settling next to her.
“Only because I just have terrible hand-eye coordination. One of the many reasons why you became a professional athlete and I became a librarian.”
“Josty, you’ve never tried to teach your best friend how to play?” JT asks.
“Why would I? If I do, she becomes better than me and there goes my guaranteed win.”
“Wow, so honorable.”
“Hey, take any advantage you can,” Tyson laughs, with a shrug and a wink thrown in her direction. The action causes Maddie to roll her eyes in jest, her head shaking from side to side.
“If you ask Cale, I’m sure he’d be happy to help,” JT tells Madeleine from across the table, a wicked smirk playing on his lips.
“I don’t think it would help,” she laughs in response. “Cale has already tried to teach me how to play pool– unsuccessfully, I might add. I guess I’m just a lost cause.”
“Really, Cale taught you how to play pool? When?” Tyson asks.
“Attempted to teach me. And it was during, I think, our third or fourth date. Why?”
“No reason,” he replies, the inflection of his tone being anything but casual, despite his best attempts to be blasé. His true feelings are only punctuated by an errant throw of his last dart, the point of it digging into the plain cork surrounding the dartboard.
Madeleine can’t stop the laugh that comes at the sight of Tyson’s head falling backward in defeat while JT cheers next to her. The ginger playfully bounds away from the tables, something about Tyson paying for the next round falling from his lips. Tyson just sighs before settling back next to Madeleine, taking the last swigs of his beer from the amber bottle.
There is a brief silence, the only sound being the clicking of the darts hitting each other as Tyson rolls them across the hardwood top of the table.
“Do you want my help?” Tyson asks. “Playing darts, I mean?” he clarifies, picking up the red darts and extending them towards Madeleine.
“I’m not sure,” she hesitates. “Ryan and Clare somehow convinced me to take a few tequila shots so that’ll probably make me worse than I normally am.”
“Who knows? Maybe the alcohol will stop you from overthinking,” Tyson teases, his eyes sparkling in that good-natured way that always made her resolve weaken.
“Is that my weakness? Overthinking? It has nothing to with just having bad reflexes?”
“I think so. It’s your, um… Aegean heel,” he says with a proud flourish. Madeleine laughs at his complete – yet completely misplaced – confidence.
“Achilles heel,” she gently corrects, loving the way Tyson’s cheeks fill with color. “But pretty damn close; same first letter, right culture. I’m impressed.”
“Let it be known I’m not just a dumb jock with a handsome face.”
“You know I’d never think that.”
“Which part?”
Madeleine hums, the inflection indicating a silent question, to which Tyson replies.
“You don’t think I’m dumb or you don’t think I’m attractive?” he elaborates.
This time, it’s her turn to feel her cheeks to heat up, faster than Madeleine would care to admit. She mutters a quick and teasing ‘shut up.’ Her response causes a cackle to escape Tyson, his head thrown back in delight. Thankfully, he doesn’t linger on her reaction, nor does he force her to give an answer. Instead, he simply holds out the darts again, the silent offer still standing.
She sighs, before taking the darts from his hand, the smile on Tyson’s face spreading even further than she thought possible.
Madeleine sweeps her hand out towards the dartboard, beckoning Tyson to go first. He accepts, walking up to the tape line. Maddie keeps her eyes glued to him, taking multiple mental notes about how he is standing, how he angles his body, how he positions his arms, and how he releases the dart.
JT wanders his way back to the tables, a beer in each hand, when Tyson is adding up his points.
“Did he feel that bad about losing that he’s picking on an easy target?” JT jokes, a sarcastic ‘ha-ha’ falling from Tyson’s lips at his friend’s words.
“Nah, he promised to help me,” Madeleine explains. “But he’ll probably still win anyway.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” comes JT’s reply, accompanied with his shoulder knocking against hers. “I think you can knock this guy down a peg or two.”
The gentle encouragement is what JT leaves Maddie with, dropping off one of the bottles for Tyson before moving back to the collection of tables where a few teammates still lingered. Madeleine turns her attention back to Tyson, who was walking back towards her, an expectant look on his face.
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” he says, gesturing to the board. He just smiles at Madeleine’s accusatory look, one that screams ‘you’re supposed to be teaching me.’
“Have to know what you need help with before I can give you advice,” Tyson explains.
Madeleine sighs before pushing herself off the barstool, coming to stand behind the tape on the floor. She tries to remember how Tyson stood, placing one of her feet back as she leans forward. Madeleine takes a dart in her hand and focuses on the bullseye before tossing the small arrow. The dart – expectedly – does not go where she willed it, instead hitting the lower part of the board.
She hears a chuckle escape Tyson and is about to shoot him a glare but when her eyes drift in that direction, he had pushed himself off the wall and was walking towards her.
“You’re left-handed, Maddie,” he says, coming to fill the space behind her. “Switch your stance.”
Madeleine follows his directions, placing her left foot forward and her right foot back.
“Now, you don’t want to lean forward,” Tyson instructs, his hands landing on her shoulders as he pulls her back until her body stands straight. “Now the only other tip is to have the dart tilted a little upward, because that way when it arcs as it falls, it’ll land where you want it to instead of lower than you aimed.”
Madeleine takes each piece of advice, the heat of Tyson’s palms seeping through her shirt. She takes a deep breath, aiming for the inner ring this time instead of the bullseye. The dart flies from her hand and lands a little to the left but still in the correct ring. Even that minor success has a smile appearing on Madeleine’s face, her head turning to look back towards Tyson in excitement. He returns the grin, slightly squeezing her shoulders before returning to the table. Madeleine tries not to mourn the loss of his presence behind her, instead channeling her focusing back to the dartboard.
Their first game continues until Tyson decidedly wins. Even in the loss, Madeleine was happy their scores weren’t leagues a part from each other. The narrow gap between their points makes Maddie want to try again, convincing Tyson into another game with a plead and a convincing lip quiver.
About halfway through, Cale walks up to them both, his tan jacket already on his shoulders.
“Hey, Madeleine, I’m headed out. Do you still need a ride?”
“I think I’ll stay here for a little while longer,” she replies. “The train is still running so I should be fine. Thanks for offer though.”
“Of course,” Cale replies.
He leans into Madeleine, wrapping her arms around her in a hug before he pulls away. Cale presses a quick kiss onto her cheek, causing a giggle to escape her lips. Neither of them notices Tyson’s faltered throw, the dart secure in the space between the soft board and the metal frame. Cale simply departs with a quick wave to the two of them. Madeleine’s eyes follow him until he disappears from her sight. The sensation of cold glass pressed against her bare upper arm causes Maddie’s eyes to jump back to Tyson, now standing next to her with a grin on his face and a bottle in his hand.
“Not leaving with your boyfriend?” he asks, the tease in his voice almost a little too cloying.
“I’m not going anywhere until I’ve successfully deflated your ego,” she chirps back, practically bounding to the dartboard.
After a few more beers for Tyson, another two losses for Madeleine, and too many playful quips to count shared between them, Maddie within reach of her first win. Part of her has to thank the alcohol: Tyson’s continue consumption made his throws less accurate than before while her sobriety during this impromptu tournament helped her focus become clearer, her shots becoming cleaner.
In her last turn, she takes a few deep breaths, before firing at the dartboard. Her aim is precise, the darts falling in the exact wedges that she wanted them to. The points add up and Madeleine can’t stop the cheer that escapes her when she realizes that she finally beat Tyson; a victory that was only six years in the making, from their homes in Canada to this random bar in Colorado.
Madeleine spins to face Tyson, her arms still thrown up in excitement. Her eyes meet her best friend’s bright gaze, the smile on his face not dimming as he walks to her.
It catches her off guard when his body swerves around her and Madeleine’s excitement briefly dims, thinking that Tyson was going to be an uncharacteristically sore loser. But that thought is quickly disproven after he places his darts back into the cup attached to the board and rapidly flipping his body towards her, scooping her up into his arms for a celebratory hug. The laughter that falls from Madeleine is involuntary, her arms wrapping around Tyson’s shoulders as he starts to twirl her around, her body still held firmly in his grasp.
The weight of them together, coupled with Tyson’s not totally sober state has his feet tripping over each other, their center of gravity tilting to the side. Madeleine thankfully finds the ground, planting her feet and holding onto Tyson so his body doesn’t meet the hardwood floor with a hard thud.
The giggles still linger on Madeleine’s lips as Tyson regains his balance, moving back and reintroducing space between them, although his hands remain firmly on her hips, his grip strong. She looks up at Tyson, about make a joke about how mad Coach Bednar would be if he injured himself playing darts. But when her blue eyes connect to his deep brown ones, the jest catches in her throat.
Because Tyson – her best friend, the person that she’s known for years, the person that she missed, and the person that she was so thankful returned to her life – was looking at her. But more than that, he was staring at with such desire, a desire that hadn’t been directed towards her in what felt like years, that all of her thoughts abandoned her.
She just keeps her eyes locked to his, uncertain where this was heading but not determined to end it. The situation felt precarious, as if one misstep, one wrong assumption could send everything crashing down. Her gaze dancing over Tyson’s face, waiting for him to make the next move. She doesn’t miss the subtle flex of his hands on her hip, doesn’t miss the way his eyes soften as he drinks the uncertainty painted on her features.
The tension continues, Madeleine’s nerves spiking and out of habit, she takes her bottom lip into her mouth. Her teeth latch onto some of the loose skin and she tugs at it in worry, causing Tyson’s gaze to dart down towards her lips. Madeleine registers the departure of one of his hands leave its place on her hips but her mind falters at the new sensation of Tyson’s fingers coming to gently rest underneath her chin. The pad of his thumb lifts and lands on her bottom lip before pulling the skin down – a gentle encouragement for her to release it from her bite. She does, her mouth falling open slightly at Tyson’s behest. His thumb doesn’t fall away, instead moving across the dampened skin, brushing over the small split that Madeleine’s fretting opened.
The salt from Tyson’s finger stings as it touches the cut but Maddie realizes that she doesn’t mind it; the sensation grounding her to the moment.
She can feel Tyson’s hold shift, as if his entire body was debating every move. The tension is heavy, almost oppressive, the weight of nine years of words left unsaid hanging in the air above them. Madeleine feels her eyes inexplicably well with tears, as if the wait was too much to bear.
She doesn’t mean for it to happen, but when she blinks, a single drop falls from the ledge of her lower lashes, rolling down her cheek. The movement calls Tyson’s attention to the tear before his gaze returns to hers, the question plainly displayed on his face.
“Please,” is the only word that manages to escape from Madeleine’s throat.
It is a broken plea, soft and staccato. A plea for what, Madeleine wasn’t certain. For him to stop? For him to come closer?
Her lack of clarification leaves Tyson to interpret. Madeleine can feel his hold on her tighten as he pulls her closer, the press of his hand underneath her chin lifting her head. He leans in, seemingly in slow motion, and Madeleine can’t stop her eyes from fluttering close.
It is a moment of complete uncertainty before Madeleine feels the press of Tyson’s lips against hers.
It is delicate, gentle, a mere whisper of a kiss. But as soon as the sensation registers on her skin and in her brain, the trance she was stuck in breaks and Madeleine finally moves.
Her hands creep back, dancing over Tyson’s shoulders to the nape of his neck, her fingers teasing the curls there. She steps closer to press their bodies together, the warmth of him flooding her senses. Tyson’s lips stay politely on hers, unmoving, until Madeleine pushes herself up to him. She returns the kiss with a fervor that could only be described as hunger. Hunger for him, for this, for more.
Tyson responds quickly to her need, kissing her again before opening his mouth, his tongue pressing against the seam of her lips. She gladly grants him access, the floodgates opening and pure desire rushing forward. Tyson’s hand slides from her chin to grip the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair, keeping her as close to him as he can.
The way they tangle together is almost animalistic, as if all caution had disappeared and left the two of them to reckon with their untold yearning.
But the previously dim lights of the bar flip to fluorescent, signaling last call, the shock of the brightness causes Tyson and Madeleine to jump away from each other, their hands retreating from the other’s body. The white light crashes over them and when their eyes connect, it is as if the harsh overhead bulbs brought reason with it, recapturing their emotions, and returning them to the gilded cages they previously existed in.
“Shit,” Tyson curses. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Maddie.”
Madeleine wants to say it’s okay, if only to lessen his panic, but she can’t make the words form. Because she knows the statement would be a lie: nothing about this was right.
Tyson was her best friend. She was dating his teammate. She wasn’t supposed to kiss him in a bar when she came here with someone else.
The remembrance of Cale causes her to turn her head towards the corner booth in fear. A voice tells her what she already knows: he isn’t there. But she still worries that maybe Andre or Nate or, even worse, Gabe and Mel were still there and saw her and Tyson lost in each other’s lips.
A sigh of relief falls from her when she doesn’t see any of her friends, the only bodies still lingering belonging to a few regulars and bartenders picking up the abandoned bottles, cans, and glasses.
“I…” she starts, her throat constricting around the syllables. She swallows, gathering herself and piecing her thoughts back together, before forcing herself to speak.
“It’s – it’s really late,” she says. “I should go.”
She turns back towards Tyson, their eyes connecting. Madeleine tries not to notice how his expression shifts from alarm, to confusion, to sadness at her words. The space between them turns, the expanse feeling like a cold and barren wasteland – so different from the warmth and fire that was jumping between them mere seconds ago.
Tyson sighs and Madeleine watches as his entire demeanor changes, as if he was building a brick wall between them before he looks back at her with perfect practiced apathy.
“Is the train running this late?” he asks. It takes a minute for Madeleine to realize that he was talking about the RTD line, her go-to mode of transport between DU and the Pepsi Center.
“Oh,” she says, her mind racking the Light Rail schedule until she realizes that it was almost two hours since the last train departed. “No,” she sighs. “I guess I’ll just call an Uber.”
She turns away from Tyson, fishing her phone out of her pocket and she is about to open the app before she feels Tyson nudge her arm. She ignores the lingering sparks that his touch brings and looks back to see him holding out his car keys to her.
“Just take my car. It’s still in the parking lot of the arena.”
“I – it’s fine, Tyson. I can pay for an Uber.”
“Please. I’m… not sober enough to drive so I wouldn’t be able to get it until tomorrow either way. This way I know it’s safe in your lot. Plus, this way you wouldn’t have to rely on a stranger to get you home.”
The subtle way that he shows how much he cares for her and her safety leaves Maddie’s head spinning. How many signs has she’s missed? Did Tyson always feel like this towards her? How many times had she brushed off his advances with the excuse of their long-term friendship blurring the lines and acting as a smoke screen?
She wants to know, to get to the truth of everything. But right now, she was too tired, too confused to seek those answers. Instead, she takes Tyson’s keys from his hand.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “I can drive you home, if you want.”
“That’s okay,” he replies with a shrug. “I’ve got a spare set of keys at home. I’ll use those tomorrow when I pick up my car. So you don’t have to get up early.”
This time, the pang that echoes through Madeleine’s ribcage is painful, her instinct assuming the worst: he was separating himself from her, creating a distance between them. Part of her worries that it wasn’t going to be temporary. But she doesn’t voice these concerns.
She just offers him another gentle ‘thank you’ and a small nod. Tyson gives her a half-hearted smile before he turns to the small table, the one that they occupied for hours, and gathers the empty beer bottles his hands. He wishes her a soft ‘good night’ as he passes by her towards the bar, presumably to recycle the bottles and close his tab.
There was no reason for Madeleine to hang around but her body doesn’t seem to want to move, still stuck in that moment she shared with Tyson and what it all meant – not only for their past but for their future. She didn’t want to leave these loose threads hanging. No, she wanted to know exactly which one would return her life to what it used to be, which one would mend the gap between her and her best friend, and which one would make everything unravel at the seams.
Eventually, her logic and her exhaustion win out and successfully coax her to throw on her coat and move towards the exit.
The chill from the February air hits Madeleine as she pushes open the sturdy oak door of the bar. The sensation is a pleasant one, the fresh air clearing her head – or at the very least, emptying her mind of any thought except the desire to get home to her warm and comfortable bed. She moves forward, leaving the bar and all those complications behind her.
She can feel the weight of a pair of eyes on her as she departs; brown eyes that she knew better than her own. Eyes that could open her up and read her with an ease than no one else ever could.
