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blueskrugs · 9 months ago

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I Love You (It's Ruining My Life) | Nick Blankenburg

this is a christmas fic. in july. for demi @wyattjohnston's birthday. which was in june. does the earliness of one make up for the lateness of the other? uh. happy birthday/happy holidays, I guess? fear of commitment / secret admirer / stranded / high school sweethearts / exes to lovers length: 6.4k words

Nick Blankenburg is the boy Olivia will never get over.

There’s a framed photo in her mother’s living room from seven years ago of Nick and Olivia at senior prom. Nick’s tie and boutonniere matched Olivia’s red Sherri Hill dress and corsage. In her heels, she was a couple of inches taller than him. Olivia sees it, sees them nestled in between the rest of their family photos, every time she’s home. She loved that photo; Nick is smiling softly at her, hand on her hip as she laughs at something one of her friends was doing off-camera. There’s a blooper of that photo, of Nick making faces to keep Olivia laughing, because “her smile is better that way.” That was her phone lock screen for months after that day.

Sometimes she wishes she could hide that picture frame now, or throw it into the fireplace and watch it burn.

But that would be dramatic.

Dramatic like Nick breaking up with her two months after high school graduation, saying he needed time to “figure some things out.” Dramatic like Nick hardly talking to her for weeks before he dumped her, after they’d been dating for three years.

Olivia had cried for weeks. Nick had been her first boyfriend, her first love. Washington was a small town, and almost everyone Olivia knew had married their high school sweetheart and settled down. She’d thought that would be her and Nick, too, until Nick decided to set his sights on bigger things.

Olivia pretended to get over it and moved to Ann Arbor in the fall. Nick seemed like he was always over it, and he moved to Detroit to join Victory Honda.

Olivia threw everything she had into school. She joined a sorority, joined clubs, started coaching a local girls’ soccer team. She was doing well.

By the time she was in her third year and one of her sorority sisters was telling her about the cute overage freshman named Nick who had joined the Michigan hockey team, Olivia is doing her best impersonation of a girl who finally got over her high school boyfriend.

It doesn’t stop her from dropping her phone on her face when her friend Paige leans over from her perch on the end of Olivia’s bed to show her the newest member of the hockey team. Nick Blankenburg’s smiling face stares back at Olivia from Paige’s phone screen.

“It says he’s from Washington, d’you know him?” Paige asks, oblivious. She’s already resumed scrolling.

“Yeah, uh,” Olivia says. “I think we went to high school together.”

“Oh, cool,” Paige says, continuing her blithe scrolling again.

Olivia thinks that’s the end of it. Hopes it’s the end of it. She doesn’t frequent hockey games these days, and since Nick spent two years in juniors instead of heading straight to Michigan, it’s unlikely they’ll be crossing paths on campus any time soon.

Then the football game against Ohio State rolls around. Olivia’s boyfriend Austin had traveled from Ohio to Michigan for Thanksgiving with Olivia’s family, and he stuck around through the weekend to go to the game at The Big House. Austin sticks out like a sore thumb, decked in all red, in a sea of maize and blue, but he good naturedly kisses Olivia at kickoff, ignoring the jeers of the crowd around them.

Michigan loses. It’s a bit of a blowout.

Someone from the next section over shouts something at Austin. He turns to shout back, tightening his arm around Olivia’s waist as they try to make their way out of the stadium with the rest of the crowd. Olivia’s not sure who starts it, but someone starts shoving. Olivia gets caught in the middle of it, jostled to the side as a fight starts. There’s more yelling. Someone pushes Olivia from behind, then from the side, and she falls.

Or, starts to fall, until someone catches her. It’s oddly reminiscent of the time Olivia met Austin, at another Ohio State versus Michigan football game her freshman year, and someone had bumped into him, causing him to spill a soda on Olivia.

She looks up into the face of the hands that caught her. “Nick?” she blurts. Nick’s grip on her elbows gets tighter, before he realizes he’s squeezing and lets go. He helps Olivia to her feet again. The crush of the crowd shoves them together, and Nick’s hands slide to Olivia’s hips to steady her. She’s still staring at him in awe, as if she’s never seen him before.

Nick still hasn’t said anything. Through the crowd, someone takes Olivia’s hand. Austin. She turns to find him, following as he tugs her away from Nick.

“Who was that?” Austin asks, leaning in close to speak in Olivia’s ear. Olivia cranes her neck around, but Nick’s lost to the crowd again.

“No one,” Olivia says. “It was no one.” She’s not sure if she’s trying to convince herself or Austin.

It seems impossible to continue to avoid Nick around Ann Arbor after that. Michigan’s campus has never felt so small. She sees him in the library, studying intently with his headphones on. She sees him walking across campus, always with a few other rowdy hockey players. She sees him waiting in line for coffee at Sweetwaters in the student union. Nick tries to talk to her, once.

They were crossing paths on campus, and Nick reached out a hand. He was alone, for once.

“Liv, hey,” he’d started. Olivia takes a second to look at him properly for the first time. He’s grown up a little since they left high school, but he still looks like the same sweet Nick she used to know. She pulls her arm away from him.

“I’m late for a class, sorry,” she said. She was heading in the opposite direction of the Education building, and she thought Nick might know that. She walked away before Nick could get another word in. He never tried to talk to her again after that. They share smiles every once in a while; Olivia’s always feel fake.

The years pass. Olivia graduates, gets a job as a fourth grade teacher in Detroit. Austin moves in with her. She finally stops thinking about Nick.

When Nick signs with the Columbus Blue Jackets, Paige takes the liberty of forwarding every single Instagram post about him to Olivia. Olivia FaceTimes Paige just so she can flip her off. Paige spends the next year and a half making it her personal responsibility to keep Olivia updated on her ex-boyfriend—every injury, every goal, every time he’s sent back down to the AHL.

Olivia tries not to pay any attention to it. Keyword: tries.

Austin and Olivia drive back down to Ohio a few days before Christmas to visit his family in Columbus. Olivia very carefully doesn’t mention that Nick had been called up a few weeks back the entire drive. It had caused a fight, once, when she mindlessly dropped into a conversation about the Blue Jackets that she knew Nick. She’s never talked about him around Austin again.

Later that night, when Olivia is standing on the curb outside of Austin’s parents’, her bag by her feet, tears drying on her cheeks in the freezing air, she’s briefly grateful for Paige’s incessant updates on Nick. At least she knows that the only person she knows in this awful city isn’t actually two hours away in Cleveland. She pulls out her phone with shaky hands.

God, she hopes Nick hasn’t changed his phone number.

The phone rings for so long that Olivia thinks Nick won’t answer. She swears under her breath and starts to pull her phone away from her ear to call an Uber instead when she hears a muffled, “Hello?” on the other end of the line. It sounds like she woke him.

“Nick?” Olivia asks. A car drives by, kicking up dirty slush, and Olivia flinches. There’s a moment of silence. “You know what, never mind, I’ll just—” Olivia goes to hang up the phone again, but Nick cuts her off.

“Liv? Hang on, what’s wrong?” There’s shuffling on Nick’s end of the call. He sounds wide awake now. “Where are you, are you in trouble?”

“Can you come pick me up?” Olivia whispers.

“Text me your address, I’ll be right there.” Nick hangs up.

Olivia’s numb by the time a car pulls up to the curb in front of her. A familiar figure jumps out of the driver’s seat and runs around the front of the car to pull Olivia into a tight hug. Olivia lets herself hug Nick back for a brief second, before he’s pulling away again and reaching for her suitcase.

“Liv, it’s freezing, what the hell are you doing standing out here?” he asks. He ushers her to the passenger seat and throws her suitcase in the back of the car. The heat’s blasting, and Olivia thinks Nick turned on the seat warmer for her. Her teeth are chattering.

Nick pulls away from the curb. Olivia settles back and lets the suburbs of Columbus turn into a blur outside the windows. Nick allows her to wallow in silence for a few minutes before he turns to Olivia at a red light.

“You didn’t tell me what happened, or why you needed me to pick you up in the middle of the night from the fucking Columbus suburbs,” Nick says. He doesn’t sound angry, just worried. Washed in the red glow of the stoplight, Olivia can see the way his eyebrows crease.

“Never gave me a chance,” Olivia manages. Nick shoots her an unimpressed look, but the light turns green again, saving Olivia from Nick’s gaze.

Nick’s CarPlay is softly playing Taylor Swift on shuffle. Olivia lets it cycle through a few songs before she speaks again.

“Austin and I broke up,” Olivia says.

Nick, to his credit, doesn’t ask who Austin is. Olivia’s pretty sure he never unfollowed her on Instagram. He’s probably seen all of her sappy posts from the last six years.

Nick just clicks his tongue and says, “Sorry, Liv, that’s shitty.”

Neither of them say anything else for the rest of the drive to Nick’s apartment. Olivia gawks out the window as they approach what is, apparently, Nick’s building.

“What?” Nick asks, pulling carefully into a spot in the parking garage.

“Nick, this is bougie as hell.” Olivia has never felt so far from Washington, Michigan in her life.

Nick shrugs as he puts his car in park and climbs out. He pulls Olivia’s suitcase out before opening her door for her. “It’s not that fancy.”

Olivia smacks him on the chest. She’s struck, suddenly, at how solid Nick’s become now that they’ve grown up. Now that they don’t know each other. The reminder of how different they are, how far they’ve come since high school, shocks Olivia into silence as she follows Nick up the elevator and to his apartment door.

He shoots her another worried look over his shoulder as he unlocks the door. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are you still cold?” He pulls Olivia by the wrist across the threshold and over to his couch. He turns on the gas fireplace, which Olivia raises her eyebrows at.

“Not that fancy,” she murmurs. Nick’s still bustling around, turning his heat up, disappearing into his bedroom and re-emerging with an armful of blankets, dressed in sweats and a ratty Michigan T-shirt. He throws a blanket at Olivia’s face. She rips it off, sputtering, before she realizes what it is. “You still have this?” she asks, incredulous.

The blanket in question is a T-shirt blanket, emblazoned all over with Romeo High School—dozens of Nick’s high school T-shirts, cut up and quilted together by Olivia’s mom after they had graduated. Olivia has a matching one, laid across the foot of her bed back in Detroit.

Nick looks sheepish for the first time since he picked up Olivia. “My mom, uh, helped me move in here, and she wanted to make sure I was never cold, I guess.”

The blanket looks worn, like it’s been used and washed dozens of times since they were eighteen. Olivia doesn’t call Nick out on it.

Nick settles on his couch next to Olivia. “I’m, uh, driving home first thing in the morning if you want to come with,” he says awkwardly.

Olivia chuckles wryly. “Not like I’ve got anywhere else to go,” she says. Her mother is going to be so shocked when Olivia shows up on the doorstep in the morning. Olivia was supposed to come back from Ohio with a ring on her finger, not lugging back a broken heart.

“Oh. Right,” Nick says. They lapse into stiff silence, until Nick yawns.

“You don’t have to stay up on my behalf,” Olivia says.

Nick looks over at her. “Nah, I’m fine.”

He pulls out his phone, so Olivia does the same, content to scroll in silence for a while. Until Nick starts laughing quietly at something on his phone. Olivia stretches out and pokes him in the thigh with her toes.

“What’s so funny?”

Nick locks his phone sheepishly. “Nothing.” When Olivia raises her eyebrows at him, he relents. “Kent keeps sending me these tweets about me, they’re kinda funny, I guess.”

Olivia feels her heart skip a beat, but she tries to mask it. She nudges Nick with her foot again. “Tweets about you? I need to see these.”

Nick blushes and tries to hold his phone farther out of Olivia’s reach. Her eyes narrow. That’s as good as a challenge, in her mind. Before she can think better of it, Olivia lunges across the couch for Nick’s phone. Nick jerks back, laughing, but Olivia manages to grab ahold of his wrist.

“Liv,” Nick says, but then they’re wrestling for the phone. Nick’s still laughing. Olivia’s struck, again, at how much bigger Nick is than when they were still in high school. In the scuffle, Olivia ends up halfway in Nick’s lap, but she’s also successfully clutching Nick’s phone in her hand.

Olivia says a quick prayer that Nick is too sentimental to change his phone passcode. (It’s his mom’s birthday.) Nick half-heartedly swipes at the phone as it clicks unlocked.

God bless Karin Blankenburg.

“Liv, c’mon, you don’t—”

Olivia isn’t sure what the next words out of Nick’s mouth are going to be, because she cuts him off by bursting into laughter. She’s swiping quickly through the photo gallery in Nick’s message thread with Kent Johnson. Tweet screenshot, tweet screenshot, random golf photo, another tweet screenshot. They’re mostly innocuous, or vaguely thirsty, or rants about how Nick is underrated by the Blue Jackets organization and how he should get more playing time.

“Liv, what’s so funny?” Nick complains. He sounds put-out, and Olivia glances up from his phone to look at his face. He’s blushing again.

“Nick, like half of these tweets are mine.” From an anonymous Twitter account no one in her life knows about. Nick gapes at her. “I thought I had it locked down, but I guess some have slipped through.” She should check to make sure that account is still private, actually. Nick gapes at her. “What?” Olivia asks. Satisfied, she locks Nick’s phone and hands it back.

“I didn’t know you still paid any attention to me,” Nick says. Olivia hasn’t moved from her position in Nick’s lap.

“A lot of it has been against my will,” Olivia admits. A lot of her tweets were posted under the influence, as well. Nick raises an eyebrow in question. “My friend, Paige, has made it her personal mission to give me a play-by-play of your entire career. Guess I was more invested than I thought.”

Nick’s gaping at Olivia again. She wishes he wouldn’t look at her like that. She shifts uncomfortably back to her end of the couch.

Nick doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, uh, do you mind if I use your shower?” Olivia asks, trying desperately to break the awkward silence she has created. “I’m still a little cold.” In truth, she’s warmed up a bit, but she doesn’t think she could bear to sit in the same room as Nick for another moment.

Nick seems to shake himself. “Oh, yeah, of course.” He points towards his bedroom. “The, uh, bathroom’s through there. There should be a couple extra clean towels and stuff in the closet. Use whatever.”

As Olivia stands to root through her luggage for a change of clothes and her toiletry bag, Nick does the same but slips into the kitchen. Olivia feels a tightness in her chest she didn’t realize was there ease. She sighs.

When Olivia emerges from the shower twenty minutes later, smelling of Nick’s soap and only feeling marginally more like herself, Nick’s still hiding in the kitchen. He’s eating Christmas cookies, and he looks sheepish when he sees Olivia, like he’s a little kid caught sneaking into the cookie jar.

“Are those your mom’s cookies?” Olivia asks. Karin’s Christmas cookies were practically legendary back home in Washington. Olivia has missed them every year since Nick broke up with her.

Nick smiles. “Yeah, she sent me some a few days ago.” Olivia doesn’t bother pointing out that he’ll be home the next day. He holds the Tupperware out to Olivia. “D’you want one?”

“Is that even a question?” Olivia says, snatching the Tupperware. She slides onto the stool next to Nick at the counter, digging for a gingerbread cookie. Nick’s knee nudges hers. “These are the best cookies I’ve ever had. I thought I would die without ever having them again.”

Nick chuckles and gently slides the Tupperware away from Olivia. “That’s a little dramatic.” At Olivia’s skeptical look, he continues, “My mom loves you. She would make you cookies if you asked.”

Olivia takes another bite of her cookie instead of responding. Olivia’s on her fourth cookie when Nick yawns.

“Dude, go to bed,” Olivia tells him. Nick opens his mouth to protest again. “You’re the one driving back to Michigan tomorrow, and I’m obviously keeping you up. Go to bed.”

Nick rolls his eyes but gives in. “Fine, I’ll see you in the morning.”

The door to his bedroom is shut before Olivia can figure out what happened.

Later, Olivia’s most of the way to sleep when Nick’s door creaks open again. Olivia hears Nick’s quiet footsteps as he creeps over to the couch Olivia’s laying on. She cracks her eyes open.

“Sorry,” Nick whispers. “I just wanted an extra blanket.”

There’s four blankets Olivia isn’t using piled at the end of the couch. Nick carefully pulls one off. In the dim light, Olivia watches as he wraps it around his shoulders like a cape. She shuts her eyes again as Nick’s footsteps recede.

“Liv?” Nick whispers. Olivia can barely hear him.

“What, Nick?”

“I thought you hated me,” he says.

“I could never hate you,” Olivia murmurs sleepily. She’s asleep before Nick's door even shuts again.

The next morning, Nick’s up early. Olivia groans and rolls over, burying her face in one of Nick’s throw pillows. She rolls back over when the scent of fresh eggs and toast reaches her nose.

“You made breakfast?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Nick replies, the duh implied. “Come over here, and eat while it’s still hot.”

Olivia reluctantly drags herself off the couch and takes her place at the counter next to Nick. Nick’s knee bumps hers again as he slides a plate towards her.

“No coffee?” Olivia jokes.

“We can stop for Starbucks before we hit the road.”

For some reason, Olivia wasn’t expecting that answer. She can’t come up with a witty response, so she eats her breakfast in silence.

Nick clears both of their plates when they’ve finished, starts the dishwasher, wipes nonexistent crumbs off the countertop. Olivia looks around Nick’s apartment. It’s pretty much spotless, except for the nest of blankets Olivia left on the couch. Nick’s bags are packed and stacked next to Olivia’s by the front door. The apartment’s nice, but it doesn’t feel lived in. Olivia guesses it really isn’t much, since Nick’s been grinding down in Cleveland most of the season.

“Ready?” Nick asks, jolting Olivia out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, sure, just lemme—” grab my bags, is what she was going to say, but Nick’s already hefting his duffel bag over his shoulder and grabbing the handle of Olivia’s suitcase. “Uh, yeah, let’s go.”

Nick leads the way back down to his car. Olivia watches as he tosses their bags in the trunk, then steps over to the passenger door to open it for Olivia. When he slides into the driver’s seat, he tosses his phone to Olivia.

“Order yourself some Starbucks,” he says. “My order’s marked as a favorite, add that in, too.”

Olivia sticks her tongue out at Nick as she unlocks his phone. “Like I would not order you something.”

She taps in her order while Nick drives to the nearest Starbucks. He makes a face when he hands Olivia her drink.

“How do you even drink that? Is there any coffee in there? Also, it’s iced, and it’s December.” Nick takes an appalled drink of his own hot coffee as Olivia sips her own very light, very sweet, and very iced coffee.

“Maybe you’re the one with shitty taste in coffee,” Olivia retorts, zero heat behind her words. When they were still in high school, neither of them drank coffee. Just another thing about Nick that changed without Olivia knowing.

Coffees in hand, they finally get on the road towards Michigan for real. Olivia had slept poorly on Nick’s couch, so she’s looking forward to dozing for a little while. Except, Nick chatters nervously for the first forty-five minutes of the drive. He even drowns out the Christmas playlist (her own) that Olivia cued up on his CarPlay.

Olivia fights off a yawn. “Nick, you can just ask.”

Nick cuts himself off mid-sentence. “I don’t know what you mean.” Olivia gives him a flat look. Nick blushes and stares out the windshield instead of glancing over again. He sighs. “Why’d you and what’s-his-face break up?”

“Austin,” Olivia replies automatically. She notices Nick shake his head at her. She hesitates. “I thought he was going to propose this week,” she admits.

There’s a pause. “I don’t get it.”

“Austin told me that if I wanted a ring, I’d have to move to Ohio,” Olivia says.

“What?” Nick asks. His immediate outrage is a little funny. “Liv, I’m sorry, that’s so shitty.”

Olivia shrugs. “There was a fight about me wanting to stay in Michigan when I graduated a few years ago,” she says. “He never wanted to live in Detroit. I guess I sorta always knew this would happen, and I was just delaying the inevitable.”

Nick clicks his tongue at her. “You love Michigan. Even in high school, you always talked about how you never wanted to leave.”

Olivia can’t believe Nick remembers those conversations they had about the future. “I can’t believe you remember that,” she says.

Nick looks away from the highway for a moment to give Olivia a disbelieving look. “Why wouldn’t I remember that?” he asks.

Olivia doesn’t have a good response to that.

They’re both quiet for another few miles.

“My turn,” Olivia asks, over the sound of The Carpenters playing on the car’s speakers. Nick makes a face, but doesn’t protest. “Why’d you break up with me?”

The question had been plaguing Olivia for years. She had thought she’d finally outrun it, but it followed her all the way to Nick’s car, all the way down I-75 towards Michigan. Maybe if she could get Nick to answer her now, she could finally truly move on. As soon as she could get out of this fucking car, that is.

Nick sighs. “Liv, that’s not fair.”

“How is that ‘not fair’?” Olivia snaps. “You got to ask me a question, now I’m asking you.”

“Because I never liked that asshole you were dating, and I wanted to know what he did to break your heart.”

“You never even met Austin!” Olivia says.

“I didn’t need to,” Nick says. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel. “He got in that fight at the football game, and let you get pushed around.” “Nick, oh my god,” Olivia laughs. “It was a game against Ohio, all kinds of shit gets started at them.”

“He never should have let you fall,” Nick argues.

“Dude, that was like four years ago, how are you still upset about this?”

“He never deserved you,” Nick says.

“You never even met him!” Olivia says again. “And why do you even care so much? You dumped me after graduation.” Nick winces. “Why’d you break up with me, Nick?” she asks again.

“I didn’t want to hold you back,” Nick says,

“Hold me back? From what?” Olivia asks, but Nick talks over her.

“You were going off to Ann Arbor, I wasn’t even going to college.”

Olivia scoffs. “Nick, you moved to Detroit. That’s, like, 45 minutes from Ann Arbor.” Nick shakes his head. “And you ended up at Michigan a few years later, anyway. And you’re literally in the NHL now!”

Nick sighs again. “You’re not getting it, Liv. I worked my ass off to get where I am. I walked on to the team at Michigan. I never should have made it all the way to the NHL, but people took chances on me. I didn’t want you waiting around on some kid who wasn’t even good enough to get a second look from anyone for years. Would you have really wanted to be a senior, dating some stupid sophomore?”

“I don’t know! You never gave me the chance to decide that for myself. I never cared about the hockey, Nick. I just really loved you,” Olivia says quietly. “Wait, we’re literally the same age. Just because you were a sophomore by credits doesn’t somehow make you two years younger than me.” “That’s what you focused on?” Nick asks, but he’s laughing. His face becomes serious again. “I wasn’t ready to start thinking about the future. I was just trying to hold onto hockey for as long as I could back then. I knew everyone expected us to settle down like everyone else in town does, but I couldn’t do that.”

“I did think we would get married one day,” Olivia admits.

“See!” Nick says. “I felt like everyone had this idea, this plan for us, but I wanted to make my own plans. I don’t know, I guess I got scared of the idea of my future being written by someone who wasn’t me.”

Olivia looks out the window, at the dirty snow along the highway. She thinks she gets it. She had this idea of what a perfect life with Nick would have looked like, and when she didn’t get it, she tried to mold Austin into all the gaps in her life that Nick had left behind.

“We were just kids, Nick,” she says softly.

Nick chuckles wryly. “And when have you ever known kids to be good at talking about big things?” he asks.

Olivia has lost track of how long they’ve been driving. She’s not even really sure how far of a drive it is back to home, but Nick seems to know the way. His GPS isn’t even on. They lapse into silence for the duration of another song, then two.

Finally, Nick breaks the silence. “So, now what?”

Olivia huffs out a laugh and scrubs at her face. “Cry. Delete the Pinterest board I had for wedding planning.”

Nick shoots her a sideways look. “People actually do that?”

Olivia laughs again. This time it’s more real. “Dude, I’ve been working on this board since we were in high school.”

Nick doesn’t respond to that, though his cheeks look a little pink. Olivia wonders if she went too far. Nick had just admitted he had been scared off by everyone basically planning their wedding when they were eighteen. She’s about to open her mouth to apologize, to take it back somehow, when Nick speaks again instead.

“We’ve still got a ways ahead of us, I can shut up so you can get some rest if you want.”

Although Olivia had been planning on napping in the car when this little road trip started, Nick’s sentence makes her sit up straighter.

“Nicholas, why would I want you to shut up?”

“I don’t know how you don’t hate me, Liv.”

Olivia could smack him. “Would you stop that? I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to hate you, dumbass.”

“But I broke your heart—”

“When we were eighteen! I was never angry at you, Nick, just confused, really.”

Nick falls silent. He’s quiet for long enough that Olivia does start to doze off.

“I missed you more than I hated you,” she whispers before she falls asleep.

It takes Olivia a moment to reorient herself when she wakes up again. The car has stopped. Nick’s still sitting beside her in the driver’s seat, Christmas playlist still playing over the car’s speakers. Olivia looks blearily out the passenger window.

“This isn’t my house, Nick,” she says warily.

Nick gives her a sheepish look as he pushes open his car door, at the same time the Blankenburgs’ front door opens, and Karin appears.

“My mom wanted to see you,” he says.

Olivia huffs and pushes her car door open, too. Karin is still standing on the front porch. Nick makes his way up the stairs, but his mom is focused on Olivia as she trails after him.

She reaches to pull Olivia into a hug. “Oh, Livvy, it’s so good to see you.”

Olivia stiffens, but hugs Karin back after a moment. “You too, Mrs. B.” She probably hasn’t seen Nick’s mom since before they broke up. “Merry Christmas.”

“Olivia, you know you can call me Karin.”

Olivia is physically incapable of that, actually, but she grins at Karin, anyway.

Nick reappears on the front porch. Olivia hadn’t realized he’d stepped inside, but the door wafts all kinds of delicious smells from inside the Blankenburgs’ house as it swings shut. Olivia’s stomach grumbles. They must have driven through lunch.

“Okay, Mom, you got to say hi,” Nick says, stepping to Olivia’s side. “We should let Liv go, I’m sure she wants to see her own family.”

“Oh, they’re already all inside! So are your brother and sister, we’ve just been waiting on you two!”

“What?” Nick and Olivia ask in unison. They share a bewildered look.

“Well, when you told me you were bringing Livvy home, I just invited her family over for brunch.” Nick and Olivia must still look confused, because she continues, “You know I always make too much food. And right now it’s all getting cold, so c’mon!”

Karin leaves Nick and Olivia on the porch.

Olivia looks sideways at Nick. “D’you think she made cinnamon rolls?” Olivia used to love it when she was allowed to sleep over on Saturday nights (in Katrina’s old room, while Nick slept in his own) and Karin made them fresh cinnamon rolls Sunday morning.

Nick rolls his eyes, but he grins at Olivia. “All you care about is my mother’s cooking, huh?”

He pulls open the door for Olivia, still grinning. Olivia elbows him as she slips through the front door. She follows the smell of food and sound of laughter down the hall to the Blankenburgs’ formal dining room, Nick trailing after her. Every inch of the house is decked out in Karin’s Christmas decorations, and the dining room is no exception. The only thing Olivia is really focused on, though, is the table, piled high with food, and the two empty chairs at one end that are clearly meant for Nick and Olivia. They share another look, but everyone is waiting for them, so they take their seats.

Brunch is great, if a little awkward. Nick’s brother and his girlfriend are home, so are Katrina and her husband. It’s nice to catch up with them, in between Karin grilling Olivia on her life over the last seven years. Karin’s cooking is as good as Olivia remembers it. She eats two cinnamon rolls.

Olivia is in the middle of cuddling Katrina’s little boy when Karin says, “Oh, Livvy, it was such a surprise when Nick told me he was bringing you home. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me you two got back together!”

Nick and Olivia say, “Oh, we’re not—” at the same time Olivia’s mom says, “No, Olivia’s been with Austin, oh, what, six years now?”

An awkward silence falls over the table. Olivia realizes she probably should have told her mom the real reason she was coming home early from Ohio. Nick clears his throat as Olivia pushes her chair back from the table. She hands Katrina her squirming toddler back.

“Mom,” Nick starts, but Olivia cuts him off.

“You know, Mrs. B, thank you so much for having us all over, but I’m pretty tired. Nick’s couch isn’t the most comfortable to sleep on.”

Nick shoves his chair back, too. “I’ll take you back home, Liv. I’ve still got your bags in my car, anyway.”

Karin stands, too. The dining room suddenly feels too small. She gently takes Olivia by the elbow. “Here, Livvy, let me pack up some leftovers for you.” Olivia follows her to the kitchen.

She overhears Katrina hiss, “You made her sleep on the couch?” as they head into the kitchen. Olivia waits obediently while Karin plies her with Tupperwares of leftovers and Christmas cookies.

“It really was nice to see you, Livvy,” Karin whispers. “You know you’re always welcome here, remember.” She looks like she wants to say something else, or maybe hug Olivia, but Olivia’s too busy trying not to drop anything.

“Thanks, Mrs. B,” Olivia whispers back.

Arms full of food, Olivia bypasses the still-awkwardly silent dining room and sneaks down the hallway to where Nick is waiting for her by the front door. He looks upset, still, but his face relaxes when he sees Olivia.

“Geez, did my mom give you enough leftovers?” he asks. He takes a few of the Tupperware containers off the top of the stack. When Olivia doesn’t crack a smile at his teasing, his face morphs back into something like concern. “Liv, you okay?” he asks.

Olivia forces a smile. “Yeah, just ready to go home.”

It starts to snow again on the way back to Olivia’s childhood home. Nick doesn’t need a GPS to get there. He pulls into the driveway and puts his car in park. Neither of them make any move to get out of the car. Nick turns the radio off and turns to face Olivia.

“Liv, you okay?” Nicks asks again.

For the first time since she stood on the freezing curb the night before, Olivia starts to cry.

“No, I don’t know—” She takes a shaky breath. “When we were together, I used to think I had my whole life figured out, then we broke up, and I was so lost. I started dating Austin, and I could finally see a plan for the future again, and I clung to that idea of a perfect happily ever after with him for so long, but it was all just a lie, and now I’m 26 and single again—”

“Hold on,” Nick interrupts, “26 is not that old, Liv, oh my God.” He sounds like he’s about to laugh, which makes Olivia giggle, too.

“I thought I was going to be married to you by now!” she protests.

To her surprise, Nick doesn’t shut down. Instead, he laughs for real. “Liv, if you’d married me, you’d still end up living in Ohio, babe.”

Olivia makes a face. Nick laughs harder. “Okay, but, like—” She doesn’t have a good ending to that sentence. In a desperate attempt to avoid Nick’s knowing gaze, she flings open the passenger door and dashes up the front steps to the door.

She distantly hears Nick swear and throw his car door open as well. He runs up the stairs after her, putting himself between Olivia and the door.

“But what, Liv?” he asks, breathless.

“Nick, I don’t know.” She does know. “I think a part of me always knew Austin wasn’t the right person. I guess, maybe, Ohio wouldn’t be too bad with the right person.”

It’s freezing outside. Nick’s warm breath fans across Olivia’s chilled cheeks.

“And who’s the right person, Liv?” Olivia doesn’t answer, refuses to meet Nick’s eyes. Nick huffs. He captures Olivia’s chin gently between his finger and thumb and tilts her chin up until she has no choice but to look him in the face. “How ‘bout this: do you think we could try again, Olivia?” he asks.

Olivia swallows hard. “I don’t know, Nick—”

Olivia thinks about desperately calling Nick the night before when she needed help. Thinks about the blanket her mom made him years ago still laying on his bed every night. Thinks about brunch at the Blankenburgs’, the inexplicable feeling of home, there with her family and Nick’s.

Thinks about Nick, standing in front of her now.

“They say long-distance can be pretty hard, Blankenburg,” Olivia says.

Nick scoffs, eyes warm. “Who cares what they say?” Nick’s leaning in now. “Please tell me I can kiss you.”

Olivia laughs and winds her arms around Nick’s neck. “I guess I’ll allow it,” she teases.

“Fuck’s sake,” Nick says under his breath. “You guess.” Then he’s kissing Olivia, both hands tight on her hips, fierce and sweet at the same time, years of unspoken words passing between them.

Olivia makes herself pull away. Nick pouts at her. “Knowing our parents when they get together, we probably have a few hours until Mom and Dad come home.” Nick grins, already knowing what Olivia’s going to say next. “Would you like to come inside?”

Nick kisses Olivia again, quick, before dashing off the front porch to his car. Olivia watches as he hurriedly pulls her bags out of the trunk.

“Liv, I thought you’d never ask.”

Olivia watches, a smile on her face, as Nick excitedly makes his way back to her. Long-distance may be hard, but with Nick, Olivia thinks it’ll be worth it. Besides, everyone always says that “home is where the heart is,” right? Olivia thinks home is wherever Nick Blankenburg is. And maybe one day, he’ll sign a contract with Detroit, and they’ll both get to come back home to Michigan.

#cait writes things #nick blankenburg fic #nick blankenburg imagine #columbus blue jackets fic #columbus blue jackets imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction

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moodriingz · 9 months ago

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Texts with Adam Fantilli

A/n: I hope you guys like these I’ve been wanting to do them all week but kept putting it off 😭 those pictures he just posted the other day? I died and left this for you all

#adam fantilli blurb #adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli #columbus blue jackets #nhl fluff #nhl writing #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #hockey x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #luca fantilli #Columbus blue jackets imagine #blue jackets #blue jackets imagine

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izzylovesyou2022 · 2 years ago

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Comment, Reblog this, or Message me with your thoughts on me writing a NHL fanfic based around "first girl in the NHL"

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sweetdispatch · 2 months ago

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Halloween costume

Players headcanons summary: what certain hockey player would wear as a halloween costume with his partner players: Cole Caufield, Adam Fantilli, Nico Hischier, Jack Hughes, Luke Hughes, Quinn Hughes, Clayton Keller, John Marino, Matt Rempe, Juraj Slafkovsky note: it's time to finally start this masterlist haha

C. CAUFIELD

Cole is this type of guy to have silly but meaningful Halloween costumes for both of you. Most of the time the costumes look like they had been picked out at the last minute but for two of you, they have a deeper meaning. At every Halloween party, you would have a costume related to a cartoon that you’ve been obsessed with and become a guilty pleasure movie for you. Example? You would wear Woody and Jessie costumes because in past months, Toy Story was your movie that two of you would watch when one of you had a bad day and needed a laugh.

A. FANTILLI

You and Adam are huge movie fans. Every day that he’s at home, you need to end up with a movie. Halloween costumes would be based on the genre of movies you’re currently watching. It’s a fun time for both of you so you don’t care if you look silly or not, it’s all about having joy from this day. Example? You would dress up as Mr & Mrs Corleone because for the past month you two had been obsessed with The Godfather trilogy to this point that you would read a novel on which the movie is based.

N. HISCHIER

You and Nico love Peaky Blinders so obviously two of you had to pick costumes based on this tv show. At first, it was supposed to be an inspiration, more like the aesthetic of those years where the action is based. Later Nico proposed to dress up as Tommy and Grace. He wanted both of you to be main characters from the tv show at the party. You came up with an even better idea. You suggested it to be Michael and Gina because they lived in the US and not in England like the rest of the characters. Nico without a doubt agreed on this.

J. HUGHES

You and Jack love Halloween and dressing up. Each year you impatiently wait for the party to pick a costume because you two always have plenty of ideas what to wear. Each year you also have arguments over what to pick because you have troubles with deciding. Jack prefers this but you prefer that. Although now, for the first time, you two knew that you wanted to dress up as Joker and Harley Quinn.

L. HUGHES

Since you were a kid, you have loved Corpse Bride. Your dream was to dress up as Victor and Emily but you never had a good opportunity for this because the costumes you wore in the past were group costumes. Now, you convinced Luke to go dressed up as them, especially when you tried to tell him that he looks similar to Victor. He didn’t see it but seeing you all cheerful and talkative about this movie… He couldn’t say no to you.

Q. HUGHES

For Quinn, Halloween party would be the one time of the year when he can finally have a fun night and stop thinking about hockey. You would be the brain of the operation what to wear but he will gladly give you ideas. It’s always a costume of characters that two of you had to know. You would never pick something that Quinn is not familiar with. Example? You proposed to dress up as characters from Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. It was a childhood movie for both of you and he was happy at the idea. Quinn would wear a Willy Wonka costume when you would be an Oompa Loompa.

C. KELLER

Clayton didn’t care about the Halloween party but he saw the excitement in your eyes and wanted to play along with you. He didn’t bother you and let you pick whatever you wanted. Your head was spiralling with ideas but knowing that he doesn’t feel the joy of the holiday, you wanted to keep it simple and classic for him. You decided to dress up as the main characters from The Bear which was the tv show you’ve been watching lately. Clayton was happy with this because he didn’t have to dress up in anything crazy.

J. MARINO

Since the last Halloween party, you know what you want to wear next year. Whole year you were trying to convince John to agree to this costume. Every year he was telling you that he’s not gonna do it again but the truth was that for you, he would do anything. This costume wasn't special for him because it required only a suit from him and you bought him with that because he wasn't a big guy of dressing up. You two dressed up as Morticia and Gomez Addams.

M. REMPE

Matt was out of ideas for the Halloween party but you knew that you two needed to use the height difference. You didn’t have any plans until both of you watched Monsters, Inc. When you saw Sulley and Wazowski, you knew that these are perfect costumes. You told this to Matt and he completely fell in love with the idea and you two decided to make it happen. You bought a matching onesie as a costume that you were wearing around the house after the party.

J. SLAFKOVSKY

You and Juraj felt completely uninspired for the Halloween party. If you liked an idea, he wasn’t a fan of it and vice versa. Two of you were close to just showing up dressed normally without any costumes until you came up with an idea. You weren’t sure Juraj would like the idea but you decided to try. You proposed to dress up in the colors of Slovakian flag. At first, he was sceptical about this but eventually two of you wore white beanie, blue shirt and red pants. It was basic but you two loved it.

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lukesvangelista · 6 months ago

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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍ᵃᶠ¹⁹

in which adam’s deepest regret is loving you too deeply.

warnings; argument between a couple, angry adam, allusion to the events that happened about a month ago

Adam Fantilli had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. The two of you had met in New Hampshire, when Adam had decided to follow Luca to boarding school to play hockey. The two of you had hit it off immediately, meeting in history class his first year there. Within a few months, Adam had asked you to be his girlfriend.

Over sophomore year, he had decide to take some advanced classes, graduating a year early before heading off to Chicago with Luca. You stayed behind in New Hampshire, finishing out your junior and senior year at the academy. Adam ended up playing with the Steel for two seasons, and despite the distance, the two of you remained strong. You'd come visit him over long weekends and holiday breaks, even visiting his family in Nobleton a few times.

Everything was perfect, and continued to be when he signed at Michigan.

You didn't follow him to Michigan, choosing to go to college in Chicago after falling in love with the city. And as much as it sucked, the two of you were used to the distance by then, so it didn't affect much. FaceTimes and phone calls were constant, and some of the boys would even tease Adam about how whipped he was. As much as he tried to ignore it, he couldn't deny it.

He finished the year out at Michigan, declaring for the NHL draft after just one season. You were extremely proud of him - winning the Hobey Baker award as a freshman was no easy feat and he deserved nothing more than to play in the NHL. When he was drafted to Columbus, he finally asked you to follow and move in with him.

So you did. As much as you loved Chicago, you would drop everything for him. Instead of transferring, you talked to your advisor and decided to go virtual for the remainder of your time at college. And as you settled into Adam's apartment in Columbus, everything was perfect.

But now, the apartment was suffocating with tension, the air thick with words unspoken and emotions bubbling too close to the surface. You stood near the kitchen counter, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, trying to shield yourself from the storm that was building between you and Adam. You'd been through a lot together - much more than most couples your age - but tonight, things felt different. It wasn't about the little things you guys usually bantered about, like leaving clothes on the floor or who was supposed to take out the trash. Tonight's argument ran deeper.

You knew he was having a hard time with the start of the season, especially with what had transpired over the past few weeks. The air inside and outside of the locker room was different, and not in a good way. It was understandably taking its toll on Adam. You tried to be there for him, you really did. But he had shut you out, the distance between the two of you increasing even though you were standing right there in front of him. You guys weren't 15 hours away from each other anymore. Hell, you weren't even four hours away from each other anymore. But right now, it sure felt like you were.

"Why do you always have to make things so difficult?" Adam muttered, his back turned to you as he stared out of the window, watching the rain patter against the glass.

You stared at him in utter disbelief, "I make things difficult?" you echoed, your voice a little higher than you intended, "You're the one who's been avoiding me for days! I just want to know what's going on with you, Adam. Why won't you talk to me?"

Adam turned around, his face a mix of frustration and exhaustion, "Because I'm tired, Y/N! I'm tired of always being the one holding everything together. I can't do this all the time!"

Your heart sank at his words, "You think I don't feel the same way? You think it's easy for me?" your voice cracked, and you bit your lip to keep the tears from falling. "I get it, Adam, I do. You're under a lot of pressure with hockey, and I know you're grieving. But that doesn't mean you get to shut me out! All I want is to help you."

His jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists at his sides, "I'm not shutting you out."

"Yes, you are!" you snapped back. "You haven't said more than ten words to me all week unless it's about something trivial!"

"Maybe I don't have the energy to talk about the heavy stuff right now!" Adam's voice rose, echoing through the apartment. His eyes, usually soft when they looked at you, were now filled with a fire that matched your own. "Maybe I just need some space without you always breathing down my neck, waiting for me to fall apart.

You felt like you had been slapped. The weight of his words hit you square in the chest, making it hard to breathe, "So that's what you think of me? That I'm just... waiting for you to mess up?"

Adam groaned, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration, "That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?" your voice was softer now, trembling slightly. You were tired of this, tired of the fight, tired of feeling like the two of you were on the verge of breaking.

Adam looked at you, his expression torn between anger and regret. His chest heaved as he tried to find the right words, but in the heat of the moment, he couldn't stop himself.

"I wish I loved you less!"

The words hung in the air like a weight neither of you could lift. Time seemed to stop, and the silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, your heart shattering into a million pieces as his words echoed in your mind on repeat.

"You... what?" your voice was barely a whisper, but the hurt in it was unmistakable.

Adam's eyes widened, as if he hadn't fully realized what he's said until it was too late, "Y/N/N, I-"

"Don't Y/N/N me," you whispered, your voice dripping with pain as you shook your head, taking a step back from him. "No. Don't you dare. You don't get to take that back."

He tried to reach for you, but you pulled away from him, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean, Adam?" your voice broke, the tears finally spilling over. "Because it sure sounded like you meant every word."

Adam's heart sank as he watched you crumble in front of him. He wished he could take it back, but the damage was done. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your crying, "I'm so sorry."

You wiped at your face with the sleeve of your sweater, but the tears wouldn't stop. "Do you even hear yourself? You just said that you wish you didn't love me as much as you do. What am I supposed to do with that?"

He stepped closer, desperation lacing his voice. "I didn't mean it that way. I just... God, Y/N, I love you so much it hurts sometimes! And when things get hard like this... I don't know how to handle it. I feel like I'm failing you."

Your breath hitched at his words, but you still couldn't look at him. "You don't have to be perfect all the time, Adam. I don't need you to have all the answers. I just need you to be honest with me."

He nodded, his heart aching as he reached out and gently touched your arm. You winced, pulling away slowly. The hurt in his eyes mirrored your own, and he continued, "I am being honest. That's the problem. Loving you is everything to me, but it scares me too. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. That's why I said what I said. I wish it didn't feel so... all-consuming."

You finally looked at him, your eyes red and filled with pain. "You don't get to say you wished you loved me less, Adam. If this is too much for you, then maybe-"

"No," Adam interrupted, panic flashing in his eyes, "Don't say that. Please. I don't want that."

You sighed, shaking your head at his words. "I don't want that either, Adam. That's the last thing I want. But I can't be here right now."

His face twisted in heartbreak, but he let you continue. "I'm going to call Odette and see if I can stay with her and Zach for a bit. Call me when you figure it out."

With that, you left to go to your guys' shared bedroom. Adam whispered your name over and over again in protest, but you ignored him. As much as you wanted to turn around and hug him, you couldn't be around him with that he just said.

You slipped into the shared bedroom, quietly closing the door behind you, your back resting against the cool wood as you took a shaky breath. The silence in the room felt suffocating, and stark contrast to the muffled sounds of Adam moving around in the living room. Everything between the two of you felt frayed, like a thread pulled too tightly, on the verge of snapping. You can’t bear to look at the room you’ve shared for so long — every inch of it filled with memories, good ones, but also the ones that now haunted you.

Your hands trembled as you unlocked your phone and scrolled through your contacts, hovering over Odette's name. You hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on your chest. Should you really leave? Could you even explain what happened to someone else when you barely understood it yourself?

But you needed space - space to think, to breath, to not have Adam's face constantly reminding you of everything you guys were struggling through. So, with a deep, unsteady breath, you tapped Odette's name and listened as the phone rang.

"Hey!" Odette's cheerful voice came through the line after a few rings. The brightness in her tone felt like a stark contrast to the dark cloud hanging over you.

For a second, you almost lost your nerve. How could you drag someone else into this mess? But you forced yourself to speak, your voice barely more than a whisper, "Hey, Odette. I, um... I need to ask you something."

Immediately, her tone shifted. "What's going on?" her voice was gentle now, concerned. "Are you okay?"

You swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in your throat. "I... I was wondering if I could stay with you and Zach for a few days. Just until I figure things out."

There's a pause, a heavy silence that filled the space between the two of you, and you worried for a moment that you've overstepped, that you asked for too much. But Odette finally spoke, her voice soft but firm. "Of course you can, love. But what's going on? Why do you need to leave?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, a tear slipping down your cheek as you wrapped your arms around yourself, curling in on the bed like you could hold yourself together. "It's Adam," you admitted, your voice breaking. "We had this fight... I don't even know how it started, but it just kept spiraling. It feels like everything's been spiraling, and I just... I can't stay here right now. I need space, and I don't know how to get it when he's here, constantly reminding me of what's wrong between us."

Odette's sigh was audible through the phone, and when she spoke again, her voice was laced with empathy, "Oh, Y/N, I am so sorry. I know how much you care about him."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sob that was clawing at your throat. "It's so hard, Odette. It feels like I'm drowning, and I don't even know how to make it stop. I love him so much, it hurts. But I don't know who I am when we're constantly fighting."

"You don't have to explain it all right now," Odette assured you, "Just pack a bag and come over. You're welcome here for as long as you need. I'll be here, and we can talk whenever you're ready, okay?"

You nodded, even though Odette couldn't see you, a fresh wave of tears filling your eyes. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice shaking, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You don't have to do this alone, Y/N," Odette said softly. "We'll figure it out together, okay? Zach and I will be here. Just come over whenever you're ready."

The call ended, and you stared at the phone in your hand, the silence in the room feeling even heavier now. Your eyes drifted to the framed photo on the nightstand - you and Adam, arms wrapped around each other, smiling like you didn't have a care in the world. It felt like a lifetime ago, like you were different people back then. Maybe you were.

With a shaky breath, you rose from the bed and started packing a bag, each item a reminder of the life you're stepping away from, even if just for a little while. Every drawer you opened, every glance at the room you shared, made your heart ache. But you couldn't stay. Not like this.

As you zipped up the bag, you paused for a moment, glancing toward the door. You know Adam is just outside, probably sitting on the couch as he pretended that everything was fine, that the two of you hadn't been drifting apart for weeks. Part of you wanted to go to him, to tell him everything you're feeling, to fix it. But the other part - the part that'd been breaking under the weight of the unresolved tension, the part that Adam said he wishes he loved less, knew that you needed to leave. You needed to find yourself again before you lost everything, including your own sense of who you were.

With one last glance at the room, you grabbed your bag and quietly opened the door, slipping out before the weight of it all pulled you back in. "I'm going, Adam. Call me when you're ready to have a civil conversation."

Adam just stared at you as you left. There seemed to be no reconciling what he had said.

He sat on the couch, his leg bouncing restlessly as the reality of what just happened hit him. He could still hear the hurt in your voice echoing in his head. He'd said things he didn't mean, and the look in your eyes before you walked away... that's something he would never forget.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the knot of panic tightening in his chest. His first instinct was to call Luca, but as he thought more about it, he realized he couldn't do that. Luca was too much like him - impulsive, emotional. He'd tell his younger brother to stand his ground, but Adam knew that this wasn't the time for that. He needed someone who'd be calmer, more rational. Someone who could actually help.

There was only one person he could think of.

Without overthinking it, Adam scrolled through his contacts and tapped on Kent's name. It was late, and for a moment, he wondered if he should even be calling him right now. But the phone rang, and Kent picked up, his voice groggy on the other end.

"Adam? What's up, man? You okay?"

Adam swallowed hard, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He felt like the air in the room was pressing in on him. "I screwed up, Kent. Big time."

Kent was quiet for a second, but Adam could almost hear him sitting up, fully awake now. "What happened?"

Adam took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut like it might make the guilt a little easier to bear. "Y/N and I had this fight. I don't even know how it started, but it just... got worse and worse, and I... god, I said some things I shouldn't have. And now she's talking about leaving. Like, actually packing a bag and going."

He expected Kent to immediately start calming him down, to say something reassuring, but instead, there's just silence on the other end of the line. The longer Kent said nothing, the worse it made him feel.

"You're telling me she's leaving?" Kent finally said, his voice more serious than Adam was used to hearing. "Like, leaving for good?"

"I don't know," Adam admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. "She called Odette to stay with her and Zach for a few days. I didn't mean for it to get this bad, Kent. I didn't think it would ever come to this."

"Well, what'd you say during the fight that could've made her leave?"

Adam paused, not wanting to repeat the words that caused so much damage.

"I said that I wish I loved her less."

Kent exhaled sharply, and when he spoke again, Adam could hear the disappointment and anger laced in his tone, "What made you think that that was ever okay? Adam, man, you fucked up. Big time."

Adam's heart dropped into his stomach, and he leaned against the couch, letting KJ's words hit him full force. He expected it, but hearing it out loud still stung.

"I know," he muttered, running a hand over his face. "But what do I do now? I don't want to lose her."

Kent paused again, clearly thinking through his words carefully before speaking. "If she's walking out like this, and understandably so, may I add, you can't just sit there. You need to do something. Sooner rather than later."

Adam's throat tightened as the weight of Kent's words settled in. He knew that Kent was right. You were not just upset. You were on the edge of something bigger, something that could end everything between you two. And if he didn't act now, he might lose you for good.

"But what if..." Adam trailed off, staring blankly at the floor, his voice barely audible. "What if it's already too late?"

Kent's voice softened, but it was still firm. "It's not too late if you don't let it be. You've got a window, but it's closing fast, dude. You need to talk to her - really talk to her. No more fights, no more letting things spiral, no more saying stupid fucking shit. If you love her as much as you truly do, you have to prove it, Adam. Right now."

Adam nodded, though he knew Kent couldn't see him. He knew what he had to do, but the thought of facing you right now, of admitting how badly he'd messed up, terrified him. The hurt in your eyes was burned into his memory, and the guilt felt like it was choking him. But if KJ's right—and he knew he was—then waiting isn’t an option.

“Thanks, Kent,” Adam said, his voice raw with emotion. “I’ll fix this. I have to.”

“Yeah, you do,” Kent replied, his voice softening again. “Just don’t wait too long, okay? You can’t afford to.”

With that, Adam hung up. His heart raced as he stood up, his feet feeling heavier than they've ever felt as he walked toward the bedroom door. His hand hovered over the doorknob, and for a split second, he wonders if he should give you more time. But Kent's voice echoed in his head - "you can't afford to wait."

His heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn't bring himself to walk inside your room. The weight of your fight, of everything he'd said in the heat of the moment, felt like it was too much to face right now. You had gone to Odette's anyway, and he knew that you needed time.

With a heavy sigh, Adam pulled out his phone and stared at the screen, the blank text message to you glaring up at him. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. He wanted to fix it, but he'd never been great with words when it came to you. Maybe giving you the night, letting you breathe, was the only thing he could do right now.

i'm sorry. i know you need space, and i'm giving it to you. i don't want to make this worse. but when you're ready, i'm here. i'm ready to talk in the morning. i need to fix this. i love you.

He stared at the message, reading it over a dozen times, wondering if it was enough. He didn't want to sound desperate, but he also didn't want you to think he’s not willing to fight for you. With a shaky breath, he hit send.

As the message went through, Adam sat down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. The silence was deafening, and the absence of your presence was suffocating. He couldn't help but wonder if this is what it would feel like if you left for good.

All he could do now was wait for the morning, for you to text him back, for the two of you to finally talk civilly and try to fix the cracks that had been growing between you. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but the thought of losing you was more painful than any fight he'd ever had.

To his surprise, you texted back almost immediately.

i'll meet you at the apartment tomorrow night. don't screw this up, fantilli.

The next day, Adam waited impatiently for you to come back home. He knew you weren't going to be happy to see him, as Kent had repeatedly reminded him at morning practice. He could tell he fucked up badly when Zach glared at him through almost the entire practice, too.

But now, Adam's back was against the window as rain pattered against the glass, his eyes staring firmly at the door, waiting for you to walk through. It was as if you read his mind. Not even a minute later, you walked through the door, hair messy and dressed in a Blue Jackets hoodie.

He smiled softly at you, but you didn't return it. Instead, you took a seat at the kitchen counter, your eyes focusing on him as he slowly made his way over to sit down next to you.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I am so fucking sorry for everything," he started immediately, emotion lacing his voice, "I don't want to break up. I don't want you to go."

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. You didn't want to go either, but the truth of the matter was that he had hurt you. His words had cut through you like a knife, stabbing you right in the heart. It felt like five years had been flushed down the drain.

"Then what do you want? Because I can't keep doing this if you're going to push me away every time things get tough."

Adam took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he finally let down the walls he’d been holding up for so long. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you, Y/N. I just… I’m scared. I don’t know how to balance everything.”

Your face softened slightly, though the hurt was still there. “Then let me help you. We’ve been together for so long, Adam. Don’t shut me out now.”

He stepped forward, pulling you into his arms. You resisted at first, but eventually melted into his embrace, your face buried in his chest. “I’m sorry,” Adam whispered again, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded against him, your arms wrapping around his waist. “I’m scared too, you know,” you admitted quietly. “But I’m here, Adam. I’m not going anywhere. But you cannot do this again. I deserve to be treated better than that."

Adam nodded profusely, "It won't happen again, I promise. Kent drilled that into my head all of last night and today. I fucked up, and I realize that. I love you so, so, so much, Y/N. More than you will ever know."

You nodded, and he rubbed his hand along your back, trying to make sure you were really there in front of him.

"I love you too, Adamo."

For a while, the two of you just stood there, holding onto each other as the rain continued to fall outside. The fight wasn’t over - you still had plenty of things that needed to be talked about - but for now, you were okay. You had each other, and in the end, that was what mattered most.

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nylqnder · 9 months ago

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ALONE | ADAM FANTILLI

summary: after feeling isolated by the lack of support from your own family and friends during your pregnancy, you found a sense of belonging among adam's friends

warnings: pregnancy, technically teen pregnancy, use of made up people who do not exist irl

word count: 1.33k

You had never felt so alone.

When you found out you and Adam were expecting, you were over the moon. It wasn’t in your plans as a couple, but the two of you were more than ready to begin your family. The initial shock quickly turned into joy as you imagined the future together, holding your little one in your arms, and sharing the excitement of each new milestone.

However, when you told those close to you, your friends and family, their reactions were not what you had hoped for. Your parents had been disappointed, worried about what those in the community would think about them now that their daughter was a teenage mom. Their choice of words left you feeling like a failure. Your mother’s disapproving gaze and your father’s silence were more hurtful than any words could be. They seemed more concerned about their reputation than the new life you were bringing into the world.

When you turned to your friends, hoping that their reactions would be supportive and at least slightly better than those of your parents, you were left hurt and alone. They either distanced themselves or openly criticized your decision to keep the baby. The whispers behind your back, the judgmental glances, and the sudden exclusion from social gatherings cut deeper than you could have imagined. It felt like you were being punished for your happiness.

It seemed like everyone had an opinion, and none of them were supportive. The isolation was overwhelming, and each day felt heavier than the last. The weight of their disappointment and judgment bore down on you, making the already challenging journey of pregnancy feel even more daunting.

Now, at seven months pregnant, you had been navigating the rocky path of motherhood almost completely alone. Adam had been a rock throughout the entire thing, his unwavering love and support providing you with some solace in the storm of criticism. He held you through the nights of tears and doubt, whispering reassurances that you were strong. His family, although from a distance, were also supportive, sending messages of encouragement and little gifts for the baby.

However, even their unwavering support felt like it wasn’t enough. The absence of your own family’s acceptance left a void that was impossible to fill. You longed for your mother’s comforting words, your father’s steady presence, and the camaraderie of your friends. Instead, you faced a future that seemed more uncertain and isolated than you had ever imagined.

The journey of impending motherhood, which should have been filled with joy and anticipation, was overshadowed by the loneliness that engulfed you. Each day was a struggle to stay positive and to believe that you could be the mother your child deserved. As the due date approached, the fear of the unknown mixed with the pain of rejection, making you wonder if you could ever truly overcome the loneliness that had become your constant companion.

So when Adam suggested you go to brunch with his friends, your anxiety skyrocketed. You didn’t know these people well, and the thought of facing more judgment was almost too much to bear. Yet, Adam had assured you they were kind, understanding people, so you trusted him.

As you arrived at the quaint restaurant, your heart pounded in your chest. This morning had been a better one in terms of morning sickness and pain, which gave you a sense of ease that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, but still, your anxiety loomed.

Adam gave your hand a quick squeeze as you approached the table, most of his friends already seated. You were greeted by a melodic chorus of friendly voices and warm smiles. Adam’s friends and their partners welcomed them eagerly, pulling out chairs and making space for them at the crowded table.

“Y/n, right?” the girl next to you asked.

“Yes, hi,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly as you took a seat.

“Adam’s told me so much about you, it’s so nice to finally put a face to a name!” she said sweetly. “I’m Lilly.”

Her warmth and genuine smile were a stark contrast to the reactions you had grown accustomed to. You felt a small spark of hope flicker within you, and you mustered a polite smile in return. "It's nice to meet you, Lilly."

As the conversation flowed around you, you found yourself slowly relaxing. The group was vibrant and welcoming, chatting animatedly about their lives, sharing jokes, and asking you questions that made you feel included rather than judged. Lilly in particular seemed to take you under her wing, engaging you in conversation and making sure you felt comfortable.

"So, how are you feeling?" Lilly asked gently, her eyes filled with genuine concern. "I know it must be tough sometimes."

You hesitated, unused to such kindness, but her sincerity made it easier to open up. "It's been challenging," you admitted, feeling a lump in your throat. You glanced at Adam, who gave you an encouraging nod. He’d kept an eye on you the entire evening, making sure you were staying comfortable and making sure you didn’t want to leave. He’d truly been amazing through everything. "But Adam has been wonderful, and I'm trying to stay positive."

“When are you due?” Tyler asked.

“Early August,” you replied, your voice steadier now.

“That's so exciting! Have you thought about names yet?” Sarah asked, her enthusiasm contagious.

You and Adam exchanged a glance, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a genuine smile spread across your face. “We have a few ideas, but nothing set in stone yet.”

The weight on your shoulders seemed to lighten, as you felt that there was a developing support system that you hadn’t expected. As the brunch continued, the questions kept coming, but they were all filled with kindness and genuine interest. They asked about your cravings, your experience with morning sickness, and even shared funny stories from their own lives. You felt yourself relaxing, your earlier fears melting away.

“We're all here for you, you know," Lilly said at one point, her eyes sincere. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. We’d love to help now and after the baby arrives.”

You didn’t know if it was the overwhelming gratitude you were experiencing, or simply pregnancy hormones, but you found yourself getting emotional, tears brimming in your eyes. “Thank you. That means more than you know.”

Lilly gave you a sweet smile, reaching over and giving your hand that rested on the table a supportive squeeze. The meals came and went, stories were told, and Adam kindly paid for the tab. After you said your goodbyes and well-wishes, you walked to the car with Adam's arm around your shoulders.

“So…” Adam said hesitantly. “How was that?”

You let out a deep breath, a smile appearing on your lips. “They were amazing, Adam,” you said. “They’re so nice.”

You felt the pregnancy hormones coming back again, the tears now spilling over. Your emotions had been on a rollercoaster, with the highs and lows often blending into a confusing blur. After being abandoned by your friends and family, feeling like you were practically alone in this journey, the isolation weighed heavily on you. Each day had been a struggle, each moment a reminder of the support you lacked. The once-familiar faces that should have been by your side had turned away, leaving you to navigate this overwhelming experience in solitude.

But now, a shift was happening. You now finally felt like there were people on your side, people you could lean on and fill the void that had been left by those who had abandoned you.

Over the next few weeks, you began to see more of Adam’s friends. They checked in on you, invited you to small gatherings, and even helped you prepare for the baby. Lilly became a close friend, always there with a listening ear and helpful advice. Slowly but surely, the loneliness that had once seemed insurmountable began to ebb away.

#˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆ nylqnder #adam fantilli #adam fantilli x reader #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #columbus blue jackets

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cixrosie · 11 months ago

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Dream Boy

Summary : In which the sweet dream boy you saw freshman year turns into Your dream boy sophomore year

You and Gavin first met a Umich your Freshman year in the first week in one of your many classes you had together . But you first saw Gavin at freshman orientation and immediately had a crush on him . You and Gavin basically had almost every class together . You can't lie he was hot and sweet but you didn't want to get in a relationship as this was your start to college and you knew most college guys that were freshman were just looking to hookup .

Over the first couple months after meeting Gavin you had gotten close, you guys had had study dates even though both of your friends you brought along to make it less date like told you they were just third wheeling and it was indeed a study date . You brought one of your friends from your theater class and Gavin brought one of his teammates from the hockey team .

After that you and Gavin got even closer now from the study dates you were now going to each others events you invited Gavin to your showcases and he invited you to his hockey games and sat with the other girlfriends . This went on for the rest of the year .

Then the day you had been dreading since you met Gavin had come the last day of classes , which meant not seeing Gavin as often due to summer break and you hated that .

At least for now you didn't have to think about that because there was one big event left : The Umich Hockey End of Year Party which the hockey team . Gavin had invited you saying that is was one last big hangout with all the guys and your friends to hand out before you left as his friends and your friends had kind of meshed into one big group. So as your leaving your last class you are texting Gavin and he let you know the dress code is just umich colors .

Later that night about an hour after the party started you are almost done getting ready. You decided to wear a dark maize tube top and blue shorts with a university of Michigan jacket but left it unbuttoned in the front . Just as you were putting on your shoes you got a text from Gavin :

Gav 🥰 : where are you I don't see you ? 😢

You : im done getting ready im heading over now lol

Gav : ok see you , when you get here park next to my car

About 10 minutes later you arrive to the frat house and park nexts to Gavins car . The house pretty crowded but thats to be expected with an end of year party . You enter the house and the sound of music and laughter fills your ears . You look towards the kitchen and see Gavin and his hockey teammates and some of the girlfriends laughing and drinking so you head over.

" hey Y/N's here " Ethan yells drunkenly , that makes Gavin turn towards you at the speed of light . You both make eye contact and it holds and you can feel the shift in your relationship. You had started to notice it about a week ago the subtle touches around your waist , the excuses made just so he can hold your hand and now this something is shifting and you aren't complaining

After coming back to reality and hear Ethan still screaming about the house reaching capacity but I couldn't really make it out since he 1. was drunk off his ass and 2. You couldn't stop staring at your boy . You can't believe your referencing him as your boy but you are and you love it

You and Gavin are still making eye contact but you are saying so many words his eyes are saying " come here " your eyes are saying " come get me " but both are saying " you feel it too" at this point Gavin has had enough and as you continue staring at his eyes as your standing against the counter he comes over to you trapping you in between his arms , " come to my room with me yeah" he asks . You nod your head as you look up at him.

He grabs your hand as he leads you up the stairs and his teammates see and they start whooping and whistling and you definitely hear Luca yell " Finally " you laugh as Gavin continues to lead you up the stairs to his room. You finally get to Gavins room and he ushers you in with his hand dangerously close to your ass which makes you smile and make your heart flutter a she closes his door .

Gavin walks to his bed as he takes off his shoes and sit on the edge . You stay back towards his door and lean on it as you both make eye contact . " c'mere pretty girl" he says. You walk over and you see him spread his legs open to accommodate your body , as you fit perfectly between his legs he holds the back of your thighs and pulls you as close as possible , he pulls you with so much strength you have to hold onto his shoulders , after you catch your balance you wrap your arms around his neck and stare into his eyes.

He inches his lips closer and closer as you say "Gav" in a breathy tone " I know baby I feel it to" " what are we now" you question " You're mine and I'm yours if you'll have me " he says. Thats all it takes for the damn to break and for you to crash your lips onto his , he groans as you quite literally take his breath away . He moves his hand from the back of your thighs to you waist as he pulls you so you're now straddling him and from there his hands move to your ass pinching and pulling which you take as a sign he's enjoying himself among other things .

After a while you pull away to catch your breath. "wow' you both say at the same time you laugh and blush as you hide your face in his neck. He then lays flat on his back as he takes you down with him so you're now laying on his chest . He laughs as you still blush with your face in his neck. " don't blush now baby you literally shoved your tongue down my throat a couple minutes ago" this makes you groan as he laughs even harder , that beautiful laugh you love so much .

After you both settle down and change out of the party clothes and into pajamas and for you thats just Gavins clothes you both cuddle up on his bed as he choses some random show to watch. The room fills with silence until Gavin says " its always been you since the day we met our first week of class " You look at him from his chest and smile as you say " its always been you too Gav ever since I saw you in freshman orientation " " But we didn't even meet yet we met a week later during the first week " he cocks his eyebrow " exactly my dream boy ive had a crush on you since I saw you during freshman orientation " . Gavin smiles as he leans down to connect your lips for the sweetest kiss you've ever had .

Note: HIIII I haven't written anything in a while but im back with this sweet piece for Gavin . As always requests are open send them my way if you have them

Im tagging my favorite people on this app who ive read phenomenal fics and AUs from and are overall great people and my mutuals . feedback's appreciated but done feel like you have to ok bye <3

@sc0tters @lennysfridge @yankstrash @heavenlyhischier @sweetestdesire @thatintrovertedwriter @starry-hughes @drewsbuzzcut @bedsyandco @slafkovskys @theywantedplayer @bitchinbarzal @babydollmarauders @nicohischierz @nicohersheys @sunkissed-zegras @uluvjay @letsgetrowdy43 @mirrorballmcgroarty @ilyasorokinn @hischierdevils @jackhues @swissboyhisch @perfectlysaltycat32

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nhl-stories · 2 months ago

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i'm not sure that you want me – Kent Johnson

Summary: Kent's confused. About nothing. About everything. Mostly, he just wants someone to give him the answers.

Author’s Note: Someone sent in a request that just said Kent Johnson. Gender. I didn't really know him before but somehow his weirdly, pretty bug face broke me out of my writing rut. So thanks anon, I feel like i could have explored so much more but had to rein myself in

Word Count: 6.8k

You still live in Columbus right?

Kent gets the text after a particularly grueling rehab session, he’s out to lunch with the boys and a little tempted to order a drink to take off the edge off the day, even if it’s only 11 AM.

A second text buzzes in before he can answer.

I could google but thought I’d get it straight from the source

It had been a while since they texted each other, the last text telling him to get well soon in February. Not that they ever really communicated a ton. It was mostly when either saw something that reminded them of the other.

Like seeing one of Kent’s old teammates at a basement party doing something stupid.

Yeah, trying to come visit?

They hadn’t actually seen each other in person in a year or so. When he went back to school to get his ring, and that was only a brief hello when he had a million other obligations.

Trying to move just got accepted into OSU law school, it would be nice to have a familiar face

Kent doesn’t know how to respond right away. With the injury he feels a little more lost about his future. Not playing the last months of the season makes it harder for him to get traded, and he’s pretty sure the new contract in the works with Columbus will work out. But he really doesn’t know.

Wow congrats, lmk if you need anything I probably won’t be much help though

He doesn’t want to make any promises.

You’re saying my friend who is strong enough to move my furniture and rich enough to get me a nice meal after can’t help? What a ripoff 🙄

Kent can’t help but smile, unfortunately that gives Silly a chance to pounce.

“Who’s got KJ all smiley at his phone?”

The season has been a grind for everyone, not just Kent who’s had to helplessly watch from the sidelines for so long. They take their laughter when they can get it, Kent just made himself an easy target.

Adam peers over his shoulder, “You texting yourself? Getting that desperate?”

“It’s a different KJ,” he deadpans while he feels his face warm, “a friend from college.”

“Is this ‘friend,’” Silly obnoxiously uses air quotes, “hot?”

Kent rolls his eyes and throws a balled-up napkin at him. Slips his phone in his pocket to respond to later.

++++

KJ had lived in Columbus for almost five months before meeting up with Kent. In part because of the off season, but they had a hard time locking down plans. First a coffee meetup that fell through, then lunch, then she excitedly suggested they get drinks since they were both actually legal now.

KJ said they would be in the park after work and they could walk to a place. He found her reading on a bench. If he hadn’t followed her location pin, he wouldn’t have been sure it was them.

He had checked her Instagram before he left to see a more recent picture than what he had in his head. They don’t post a lot, even less of pictures of them, mostly books, plants, or friends. The last picture is a blurry picture of people dancing on a table, he couldn’t even pick out KJ if he tried.

Her hair was much longer than the last time he saw them, it had been shorter than his and dyed a blue that was so dark it was almost black. Now, it was mostly a light purple, except the blonde roots. Kent wasn’t sure if she was a natural blonde. Can’t recall what shade her shaved head was when they first met.

That was when their Women, Gender, and Sexuality professor paired ‘Katrina Johnson’ and ‘Kent Johnson’ for the first project of the year and as she slid into the chair next to him, said ‘you better not be one of those dumb jocks who drops this class before we finish the project.’ Kent didn’t even try to joke about how he took this class because he heard it was easy and could tell his teammates he had to leave to study women.

And that’s how boy KJ met girl KJ, which they would amend months later: ‘I’m really more of the girl-ish KJ, emphasis on -ish.’

KJ doesn’t notice him walking up so he takes a seat beside her before saying anything.

She jumps a little before a smile breaks through, “holy shit I forgot how low your voice is.”

KJ shoves the book into their backpack, the same beat up maroon JanSport he remembers from college. She reaches over and Kent thinks she’s going in for a hug, but stops turning when they touch the ends of his hair.

“And your hair is so short! People won’t confuse us for a cute lesbian couple anymore,” she pouts.

Kent rolls his eyes but can feel the upward quirk of his lip, “Shut up.”

“What? I liked when my friends would ask me about the cute, butch girl they saw me walking around campus with. It was good for my rep.”

Their smile doesn’t wane, “I’m glad we could finally meet up.”

Then she moves in for the hug, it’s a bit of an awkward angle while they’re still sitting. But they squeezes him tight, makes him think about the last time someone really hugged him. Probably his mom, before he flew back to Columbus.

They walk to a bar nearby, KJ asks Kent about his summer, training camp, how his shoulder feels. When they get to the bar, they both get carded; she elbows him excitedly like they’re getting away with something.

He finds out they’re deferring law school for a year, hoping to get some more savings for food and rent before getting more student debt. Currently, she’s part-time clerking at the ACLU and some other law firm that pays better but they seem iffy about the work they do. Then volunteering at a queer community center closer to her apartment and campus.

Kent worried that once they caught up on life basics it would be awkward, they got along pretty well at school, but they didn’t actually have that much in common.

Before meeting KJ, Kent hadn’t even spent a lot of time with women who weren’t interested in him, for hockey or romantically or a combo of both. It had been a nice change of pace when KJ came into his life, but that didn’t mean it would work outside the limbo of college life.

But the awkward moment never comes.

They keep talking until KJ looks at their phone.

“Shit, we’ve been here for like 2 hours. You probably have other things to do.”

“Not really, do you want to get dinner?”

Kent takes them to one of his favorite restaurants, it’s another two hours before they wrap up the evening. Kent’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

KJ gives him directions to her apartment; he pulls up into front of brick building, it’s easy to tell how close they are to the college now. When he turns after putting it in park he sees KJ staring at him, looking up at him while she leans on the console.

“KJ?” They bat their eyelashes.

“Yes, KJ?” His throat feels dry.

“Are you going to invite me to a hockey game?”

He can’t stop the snorting laugh that comes out.

“Um, yeah.”

She raises a brow like she’s expecting more.

“Do you want to come to a hockey game?”

“I’d love to! You probably don’t know your schedule off the top of your head so just tell me when you know some dates.”

“Cool, have good night.”

KJ leans further in for a hug, whispers against his ear, “I’m so happy we get to hang out again.”

They pull away and ruffle his short hair again, then kisses his forehead before he can even process what’s happening. He watches them walk up the drive and disappear through the door.

++++

She told him he was pretty once. Honestly, probably more than once, but the first time is what he really remembers.

Kent doesn’t know why that’s the memory that’s pinging around his head while he’s taping his stick.

Going over to KJ’s to off-campus apartment to work on their assignment, she had answered the door in a silk robe before leading him into the living room where her notes were spread out on the coffee table. She sat cross legged on the couch facing him, flashing her underwear that he would have described as a ‘laundry day’ pair.

KJ started talking about what readings they could cite, like there wasn’t a borderline stranger in her house while she was half naked, like she had never felt self-conscious in her entire life. He had never met a girl like that before.

“I know I don’t look it, but I like sports,” she’s painting her toenails while trying to make a point about how masculinity hurts men too, “how do you think I knew you were a student athlete? You don’t exactly look like a typical jock.”

Kent widened his eyes at that, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know,” she grabs his ankle and moves his foot closer to her, he has a hole in the big toe of his sock, she slathers a layer of purple glitter polish on the exposed nail.

She looks up when she’s done, “You’re really pretty for a guy.”

He wasn’t sure how to react, he didn’t get a chance because one of her roommates came in.

“Whoa Cage brought home a boy,” the new girl fist pumped with a wicked grin.

Then she’s crawling into KJ’s space, kissing her on the mouth, slipping a hand under the opening of her robe and groping her chest. KJ smiled into the kiss, Kent felt a vague, lecherous swooping in his stomach, he felt a bit like a pervert for not looking away. But really, he wasn’t sure if wanted to be KJ or the roommate.

He shakes the thought out of his head, he has a game to focus on.

The game starts out well enough, despite the time apart, playing Owen is still weird. Maybe extra weird since his head seems to be stuck in Michigan today. But he gets an assist on the first goal, and his head snaps back into focus.

And then as quick as it comes together, it falls apart.

When he falls, he immediately knows something is wrong, a sinking feeling of déjà vu. Surgery, rehab, months away from hockey; it’s a dizzying thought and he forces himself off the ice and down the tunnel before it becomes overwhelming.

The trainers gingerly take him out of his top gear, give him a fairly thorough look over to determine he’s definitely out for the game. He’s poked and prodded while he watches the teams trade goals. The useless feeling from last season starts to rear its ugly head.

The second period ends and so does the exam. He’s not going back in tonight, how long he’ll be out to be determined later. For now, he can take some pain meds and the rest of his gear off.

The guys are in the locker room when he starts to undress, he gets a few pats on the knee, most of the guys try not to give him that ‘sucks you’re injured’ sympathetic smile, but a couple slip through. A knee jerk reaction.

His phone is buzzing incessantly in his locker, like an annoying bug in his ears. Once he’s down to his base layers, he just soaks in being around the guys as they hype each other up for the last push. The sour feeling in his belly makes him worry he won’t get this any time soon.

Once the guys are back on the ice, he pulls out his phone. A text from his mom, some of the Michigan guys all hoping he’s okay.

The last one’s from KJ: That looked nasty, let me know if you’re still up to meet up afterwards, no pressure

He had gotten her a pass that would let her down to the family room, and he doesn’t want the night to be a total bust for her. He gives her directions on how to get downstairs before taking a shower, hoping to wash away some of this awful feeling.

The Blue Jackets win, which feels like a consolation prize for his shitty night. That and he’s given a free pass to skip any media obligations, since his injury is still of an uncertain severity. No one even seems to care that he leaves without changing back into his game day suit.

He turns the corner towards the family room and sees KJ talking to a group of WAGs. They’re having an animated conversation like they’re all longtime friends. KJ looks up and sees him, quickly saying bye before she comes running over, their high ponytail swinging until they pull up short on Kent.

“I was gonna hug you, but that’s probably a bad idea,” They hold out a fist to bump instead.

“It probably doesn’t mean much since I’m clearly bad luck, but I had a lot of fun.”

“Injuries happen, not your fault. Besides you saw me at school all the time and I never got injured there.”

“Excellent point, we’ll have to do further research when you’re better,” she grins up at him and he can’t help but smile back at her.

“Yeah, and you made some friends,” he nods towards the girlfriends who are still talking, maybe shooting subtle glances their way.

“Oh yeah, they just saw me awkwardly standing around and asked who I knew. Said we’re friends from college and as you can see, I’m wearing a pretty gay outfit so they definitely don’t think we’re dating.”

He looks over her outfit and can’t really point out what of the baggy jeans and jacket over a vintage CBJ t-shirt that looks like it’s seen a thousand washes is really gay, but he’s not really the expert. He thinks maybe it’s the Doc Martens before his eyes catch on the pins: A bright rainbow flag and one that says she/they.

He realizes he probably should have just responded, said something like ‘I don’t care if they think we’re dating.’ Which overall, yeah, he doesn’t particularly mind, he’d get an equal amounts of chirps for his singleness or if he had a new girlfriend.

“Do you want to get some ice cream?”

“Huh?” He shakes himself out of his head.

“Ice cream? People tend to like to eat it when they’ve had a rough day, and you, KJ, have had a rough day.”

“Yeah, sure.”

KJ directs him not to an ice cream place, but a grocery store. Buying two pints by claiming ‘my treat’ before they end up on his couch. She lets him put on the Kraken game and talk her ear off about Matty and how teams across the league look for the new season.

When he starts to nod off, KJ takes his pint and puts it in the freezer and gives him a kiss on the cheek on the way out. He falls asleep forgetting about the pit in his stomach from earlier.

++++

The injury is deemed day-to-day, but the doctors seem to think it will be about a month before he gets the all clear. The dark pit in his stomach grows a little deeper. Sure, he doesn’t need more surgery or anything. But it doesn’t feel great going down two games into a new season. The season where he was finally going to prove himself in the NHL.

He goes home and eats the rest of the pint ice cream for lunch, because it’s not like he has to play tomorrow or the day after that or even the day after that. The feeling subsides for a bit, but it gnaws away enough that he has to leave his place. Before he knows it, he’s parked in front of KJ’s house.

He hasn’t been inside, just dropped her off. He rings the bell of the middle door he’s seen her enter. There’s an almost eerie silence after the ringing stops, he thinks about pressing the button again but then hears someone coming down the steps.

KJ opens the door in a fuzzy red robe.

“Hey KJ, this is a surprise,” they smile up at him.

“Yeah, I- uh- had a shitty day and wanted to see if you wanted to hang out?”

“I’m just watching TV in bed, if that interests you? My roommate is sleeping before she goes to work so we just have to be quiet.”

Kent takes off his shoes and follows them up the stairs and to the room off the kitchen before he has a chance to really look around. There’s a small TV on top of beat-up trunk at the foot of the bed that KJ hops back onto, getting comfy against the pillows and headboard.

Her room is lit up with pink-ish fairy lights, that kind of hide the clutter around the room. But he can’t stop from staring at strap on hanging on the wall, a graduation tassel hanging off the yellow harness.

They look between Kent and the wall, trying to hold back a laugh.

“It was a graduation gift for the seniors at The Spectrum, for graduating with honors. Like Some Cum Loud, it’s embroidered on the harness.”

She raises an eyebrow waiting for him to finally make eye contact, they can’t tell if his cheeks are actually pink or it’s just the lighting. He finally flicks his eyes toward her.

“That one’s never been used. The one I use is in a box under my bed,” KJ can’t hold back the giggle this time and gets a twisted smile from Kent in return.

They pat the spot next to them on the bed and wait for Kent to unclench a bit and get on the bed. Moving around some pillows trying to get comfortable.

“We’re watching Girls, it’s problematic and a little annoying but also iconically messy,” they press play without any room for discussion or comment.

And the pair drift into a comfortable silence. KJ fans her hair out on the pillows, it’s damp and will probably dry funny. Kent wonders if it’s soft.

An episode ends and new one begins before KJ finally says something.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Kent shrugs, when he speaks his voice croaks more than usual, “not really.”

KJ hums, doesn’t say anything for a moment, then twists her body to face him. The slit at the front of her robe doesn’t move, revealing her pale leg all the way up to her hip and the pink underwear she has underneath.

“Do you want me to paint your fingernails?”

“No.”

“How about your toes?”

Kent scrunches his face, “No, I’m good.”

“I could braid your hair.”

“Do you need an activity?”

“I don’t know, I don’t have boys in my bed that often.”

“And that’s what you think boys in your bed want to do?”

She shimmies he shoulders, “no, I know what boys want in bed…”

Kent feels his face heat up, he didn’t mean to imply anything.

“But this has more slumber party vibes.”

They suddenly sit up onto their knees, and bounces on the bed, she brushes up against Kent’s thigh.

“We can order pizza and gossip about boys… well probably girls in our case.”

“I could go for pizza… not the gossip though.”

KJ adamantly slaps his thigh, “oh come on, you’re a professional athlete you’ve gotta have some fun stories from the road or something.”

He can’t stop the crooked smile in response and KJ knows she’s got him.

“I’ll find a way to crack you open, just you wait KJ,” they raise their brows a few times before grabbing their phone to look at pizza places.

And suddenly this is how most of Kent’s nights unfold. He’s still keyed up from not being able to play, watching from the press box helplessly, desperate to get out and skate. But it seems more manageable when he can pick KJ up from work and out to dinner or for TV in her bed or his couch.

He never really had a distraction outside of hockey before. He had class or studying at Michigan but that mostly meant hanging out with his teammates with books open in the athlete study hall or on rare occasions, the library. He tried to fill his empty injury time last season with reading, but it still felt like work for hockey when it was mostly books about mindset or other athletes.

This is different.

KJ smiles when he casually brings it up, that he likes having someone outside of his hockey bubble.

“Dumb, jock boy learns about work-life balance,” they laugh and go back to chopping vegetables in his kitchen.

He doesn’t bring up that he liked hanging out with her in college in the same way. That they only lived in the same place for about nine months and some of his time with KJ are his fondest memories.

He liked when she invited him to parties. Ones that didn’t always blast the same music he heard at the hockey house. Where people asked where he was from or what his major was rather than how the Olympics were or when he was leaving for the NHL. Liked that they talked about things he didn’t know anything about and didn’t make fun of him (much), just told him in a way he could understand.

He’s glad he gets to have this with KJ for the foreseeable future, even if it’ll less frequent when he gets back on the ice.

“Are you going to be playing again next week?” She dumps the vegetables in a frying pan.

“Probably not, I think I’m going to be able to practice maybe, or at least skate.”

“That’s exciting! And I hope you get to play sooner than you think, but if you’re not, do you want to go to a ‘Boob Voyage’ party with me?”

“A what?”

“My friend is getting his top surgery, so we’re throwing him party to say ‘ta ta to his tatas.”

“Clever.”

“It’s not your usual crowd, but it’s basically gonna be a college party at a place with a less sticky floor. And I’ll make sure no one posts anything with you on social media, just thought maybe you could meet some of my friends.”

She says it a little too fast, like they’re nervous. Something Kent’s not sure he’s ever witnessed. He can’t tell if it’s nerves about him saying no or him meeting their friends. KJ has met a couple of his teammates; Adam lives nearby and is coming over for dinner in a few minutes.

“Sure, I’ll go,” and it’s worth the answer just to see her smile.

++++

“Maybe you don’t need to change, you’re dressed like a lesbian,” KJ laughs when Kent opens the door.

“What?”

“I have that exact outfit in my closet,” they laugh, pointing mostly at the Birkenstock clogs he’s been wearing since he left the rink.

A retort dries on his tongue when KJ takes off her coat. She’s wearing a white sweater vest with nothing underneath, only the top button holding it together. The loose knit not hiding their dark, rosy nipples underneath.

Thankfully, KJ doesn’t seem to notice the staring.

“Do you mind if I finish my makeup while you get dressed?” She’s holding up her purse, shaking its contents in his face, “But no pressure, you can wear that, you’d fit in pretty well.”

He rolls his eyes and leads them up to his bedroom, a place they haven’t been to except for the brief tour he gave during the first visit.

She walks into the ensuite like she owns the place, leaving the door open and looking at Kent who feels like he’s helplessly staring.

“You can give me a little fashion show if you’re not sure what you’re going to wear, but whatever is probably be fine. James, who’s party it is, is totally basic dude fashion.”

Kent nods and wanders over to his walk-in closet. He tries not to overthink anything while he flips through his hangers.

Once he’s dressed, he leans in the bathroom door until KJ notices.

“Oooh, I like the red, very The Ohio State,” they smile at the bright red button down he’s wearing over a cream shirt.

Kent rolls his eyes and moves to go back to his closet.

“You can’t be mad at me for being an Ohio native. But let me try it again. Go Blue! And you look very Canadian, patriotic.”

“Better,” his mouth twists into a smirk while he looks in the mirror to fix his hair, after wearing a beanie all day.

KJ finishes applying mascara, one eye has swoosh of blue eyeliner and the other pink. Then jumps to sit on the counter, in between the his and hers sinks he doesn’t have a real need for.

“Let me do your make up,” it’s easier for them to bat their eyelashes when they’re thick and sooty like this.

Kent can feel his face contort in a look between confusion and disgust, he doesn’t even need to look up at his reflection.

“Come on, you’ll look so cute! I mean, you’re always cute but even cuter,” she pushes a lock of his hair out of his face, “I’ll keep it simple, just highlight your perfect cheekbones and a little eye makeup.”

She stares him down like she’s not going to beg, but she’s also not going to give up.

“Fine, but only cause you’re making me feel underdressed.”

He lets KJ rearrange him between their open legs, they grab his chin and positions his face the way they want. She gets the intense, focused look on her face when she starts. Her mouth hangs open a bit, their tongue pushing against the gap in their front two teeth.

Kent wants to put his tongue there, too.

He shakes his head like the intrusive thought will fall out, KJ laughs when it causes their brush to go off course. She uses her thumb to try and correct the mistake.

“All done,” they give his cheeks a quick squeeze together and hop off the counter.

She’s still standing in front of him, back pressed all against his front. Looking for approval from his reflection.

He feels kind of pretty.

His cheekbones look somehow sharper and softer at the same time, his eyes brighter than usual with sharp black eyeliner, a sprinkling of glitter at the corner of his eyes.

“Do you like it? I won’t tell anyone if you do,” biting their lip, looking a bit nervous.

Kent can only wordlessly nod, he doesn’t hate it and he’s not quite sure how he feels about that.

“Okay, let’s go.”

They arrive to the party and roar of cheers come with KJ’s arrival. They hold Kent’s hand while they make introductions.

“Let’s play beer pong, loosen you up a bit,” pulls him towards the table, let’s go of his hand for the first time since they arrived.

The beer pong is familiar enough to make him relax a bit. The balls are bright pink and they’re using plastic champagne glasses, when they sink a shot it kind of looks like nipple. He guesses that’s sort of the point.

They win a game and KJ jumps into his arms to celebrate. He feels drunk even though he’s only had maybe one drink.

But then there’s shots and dancing where he can feel the heat radiating off KJ’s body.

There are more shots and people asking Kent questions he normally would never think about, like how the NHL insurance is.

Another shot and then getting shoved into a rented photobooth with strangers.

He gets another drink and laughs from couch with KJ’s friends, KJ comes and plops half on the arm of the couch, half in his lap. His hand carefully rests on her hip.

“Cage, when you said you were bringing a straight boy, I didn’t think you meant your beard from Mich!” A bleach blonde woman Kent vaguely remembers meeting in college shouts from her chair across from them.

KJ flips her off, while she tells their new friends that they used to call them gay KJ and straight KJ after they learned he was in fact not a butch lesbian.

“I’m expanding our hetero horizons, we’re like one more shared ex-girlfriend from being an incestuous cult,” KJ laughs and slides completely into Kent’s lap

“You’re really enjoying that hetero exploration,” a man whose name Kent forgot catcalls.

“Guys stop! You’re gonna make him think we’re really narrow-minded gays.”

KJ laughs and wraps an arm around Kent’s shoulder, as the conversation ping pongs into another direction.

They stumble out into the street at about 2 AM, Kent thinks it’s the drunkest he’s been since college.

“My place is closer, let’s walk there,” KJ slurs and pulls him in that direction.

They’re arm in arm while they walk towards her place, it reminds Kent of the time KJ came to a hockey party and at the end of the night she begged for him to give her a piggyback ride home because she was so tired.

KJ fumbles with their keys and falls through the door with Kent on top of her when it suddenly opens. They both can’t hold back their laughs.

“Shh, shhhh, we don’t want to wake your roommate,” Kent tries to stop laughing.

“She’s working at the lab this weekend, we’re all good,” they start up the stairs after hanging up their coat.

Kent strips to his boxers and crawls into bed, he’s never gotten under the covers here. Just sat on top of the duvet with KJ like they were two teenagers worried a parent would walk in and assume the worst.

KJ comes back on wobbly legs, her hair piled on top of her head with a claw clip holding it in place, it looks kind of stupid. Their makeup is washed off and they’re wearing glasses that remind him of Owen’s, which is the last thing he wants to be thinking about right now.

Especially when KJ is crawling on top of him.

He’s about to say something when they move to hold his chin in place. Her thumb drifts up to his lower lip, nail pressing against the soft flesh. He sucks in a breath, their thumb drifts into his mouth.

KJ’s gaze is so adoring, he feels paralyzed by all the emotions going through his head.

She then brings a washcloth up to his face and gently wipes away the makeup. Kent hates that he has to close his eyes, like it’s breaking some spell that hasn’t finished casting.

When they pull the washcloth away, they tilt his head side to side, checking their work.

“Perfect,” KJ leans in close.

Kent has to hold his breath, tries to stop himself from being impulsive. Then KJ’s lips are touching his and he knows deep down it’s probably meant to be a quick peck, but he has to try or he’ll regret missing his perfect chance.

He grabs their hip with one hand and gently cups the back of her neck with the other. His grip is loose enough that KJ could break away if she wanted to, but instead they start to kiss back.

The washcloth slaps to ground while KJ moves to use Kent’s shoulder for stability. Their tongues meet in the middle and it all feels more intoxicating than any of the alcohol he had tonight.

Now that he knows she’s not pulling away he moves his hand at their neck down her chest. KJ hasn’t changed yet, and it’s easy to flick open the one button and expose their bare chest. He grabs a handful and she moans into his mouth.

KJ can’t seem to hold themselves up anymore. Pinning Kent’s hand between their bodies. KJ is soft and curvy everywhere Kent is flat and firm, and their bodies seem to mold together.

“I’m sorry, I’m drunk.”

Kent’s suddenly cold and KJ seems to have flung herself across the room.

He doesn’t know what’s the right thing to say, he doesn’t know why KJ is apologizing; he’s the one who started this.

She’s taking off her sweater and pants, changing into their pajamas and all he can do is gawk like a moron, until they turn off the lights.

“I’m drunk too,” he finely says, lamely late into the dark.

“Good night, KJ,” she whispers from the other side of the bed.

“Night KJ, I had fun,” he whispers back, a hand reaches across the bed and squeezes his, it might as well be squeezing his heart.

++++

He leaves the next morning before KJ wakes up; a walk of shame for his actions, for the conversation he doesn’t know how to have, for the things he’s not ready to admit.

Then he’s back on the ice for a full-contact practice and there’s not much time to think about it. It doesn’t stop the guilt from stewing deep down in his gut, but it’s easier to ignore when he’s back in the lineup.

Harder to ignore when he gets a series of texts from KJ:

ur game is on at this bar

saw you score 🍻😘

first game back baby 💖🥵💪

He knows he should probably invite her to a game now, make a peace offering that might make things seem normal. They’ve been texting like everything is normal, KJ sent him some pictures from the party. Maybe KJ is showing him mercy by ignoring what happened, maybe they don’t even remember.

He hearts the texts and talks about plans to celebrate with some of the guys.

They continue to live in ignorance while the guilt and confusion gnaws at his insides.

Then it’s shoved in his face at team’s Thanksgiving dinner. The first thing someone yells at him, “KJ where’s your girlfriend?”

He tries to play it off, making a joke about Fants who he carpooled with, it holds them off for approximately 10 minutes.

Zach’s fiancée, who had all of one conversation with KJ, asks him next, “Why didn’t you bring your girlfriend? Afraid of the full team interrogation?”

He doesn’t even know where to begin. That’s KJ isn’t his girlfriend? That they wouldn’t even be his girlfriend if they were dating? She would be his partner? Some other term he doesn’t even know yet?

“Um, she’s – they’re volunteering with some friends.”

“Okay, so not at the introducing to all the friends or spending holidays together phase, I understand,” she winks and walks away and Kent knows she doesn’t understand anything.

He gets a small reprieve with a week-long road trip where he feels so busy, that the plane-bus-hotel-practice-game-sleep repeat has never felt so good. And if he’s acting weird or aloof, no one comments. He takes it all as a win, even if they lose three in a row.

They lose the first game of the homestead; he wakes up to a text from KJ.

The washer in our building broke can I come do laundry?

It’s maybe the most innocuous thing they could have texted. He invites her over that night, offers to order dinner for them.

They come over in a pair of threadbare sweatpants and rainbow block M shirt, dragging a large rolling suitcase, pushing past Kent at the door to go to the laundry closet. They just start dumping things into the washer, pouring in soap, and ignoring Kent who doesn’t even know how to start talking. Even if there might not be anything to talk about.

She slams washer door and punches buttons until it comes to life, finally turning to Kent.

They cut their hair since he lost saw her. It’s almost as short as his hair, a choppy approximation of a mullet. It suits them.

“So, let’s sit down and talk about that kiss,” they come right out and say it, Kent chokes on his breath.

“You brought laundry for an ambush?”

“Our washer really is broken, so it was a good excuse. And I get free laundry done.”

He can’t fault her for that, let’s himself get pushed towards the living room couch to face the music.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts the moment they’re both sitting.

KJ bites their lip, her tooth gap barely peeking out.

“For what?” she says it so timidly, like she’s just as unsure about all of this as Kent.

Which can’t possibly be true, because they always know. They’re always so sure and headstrong. And Kent’s the one who misread everything, pushed himself on her without thinking about what KJ really wants. Only his own selfish desires.

“I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you when you were drunk, I know you don’t— you wouldn’t— I’m not—" he doesn’t know how to fill in that blank.

“You’re not what? My type?” Kent can only shrug, “and why’s that? Cause you’re straight?”

“I don’t know, I’m just confused,” he mumbles, can’t even look up to see what kind of expression KJ is making.

“Well having a crush on me does make you a little less straight,” KJ snickers and it makes him look up.

They’re giving him a sad kind of smile. He doesn’t know how to take it, but he doesn’t feel like he’s about to be reprimanded.

“And that’s what that was right? You have a crush on me?” Kent purses his lips, doesn’t want to make the wrong move.

“Because, I have a little bit of a crush on you too,” she puts a hand on his knee and squeezes, it’s electric.

“But you stopped us, and then apologized.”

“Being drunk isn’t usually a great starting point for big monumental changes between friends and,” she takes a big breath, “and I’ve never actually had sex with um—” they gesture in the general direction of Kent’s crotch.

“What?” Kent cocks his head to the side.

“I mean, I didn’t even know I liked boys until college and by then I was pretty comfortable with the lesbian sex and—"

“Didn’t you have a boyfriend like a year ago?” He remembers seeing something on Instagram.

“He was trans so… it’s not the penetration part cause, trust, I’ve had my fair share of penetration. I’ve given my fair share of penetration,” they ruffle their own hair while they ramble, Kent’s kind of endeared.

“And like the one time I gave a blow job in college I was super drunk and threw up on his dick… so I went back to the lesbian sex because I’m good at that.”

He can’t hold back the surprised laugh. He’s not used to this squirmy KJ.

“So, the biological equipment is all kind of new to me; it’s soft and then it’s hard and then there’s a mess and—”

“KJ, shut up.”

Kent cups their face so she can focus on him.

“As much as I love you being the uncomfortable one for once, just shut up.”

She stares at him with wide eyes, waiting for his next move.

“Here I was worrying I forced myself on you and questioning my identity, and you’re having an existential crisis about my dick?”

Their eyebrows shoot up to their hairline, “you were questioning your identity?”

“We can circle back to that later,” he leans in to kiss them, before they can say anything else.

The first kiss was nice, but this one is great. There’s certainty behind it that makes Kent feel warm all over. He pushes KJ onto their back, her legs fall open and Kent slots between them.

After what feels like eternity, they come up for air. They tangle their fingers in his hair, keeping him from getting too far away. Her legs tighten around his hips, like she’s testing where the new boundaries might be.

The washer chimes that it’s done.

KJ kisses him once, twice then pushes him off to go to the laundry. His eyes follow her helplessly.

She comes back sans sweatpants, the t-shirt falling just past the tops of the their thighs, and stops at the foot of the stairs.

“I think your bedroom might be a more conducive learning environment,” she gives him a lopsided, shy smile.

He jumps over the back of the couch, scrambling towards them. He grabs their hips and pulls them back into a kiss, but stops before he gets in too deep.

“What if this ruins our friendship?”

“Eh, have other friends,” she has a wicked grin, Kent bites their lip in retaliation.

#kent johnson #kent johnson fic #kent johnson imagine #columbus blue jackets #columbus blue jackets fic #nhl stories #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagines #nhl #hockey

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toasttt11 · 7 months ago

Text

frustrations

prompt- Doing their hair for them.

Adam walked through his girlfriend’s house after saying bye to her parents as they left once he came over, she had recently injured her ACL in her last game of the season and had surgery yesterday and got back home early this morning.

He had a bag of goodies for her and holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers, he walked through the open doorway of her room and paused seeing her frustrated face as she tried to do her hair after her shower.

Adam quickly set the stuff on her desk and walked over to her where she sat on her be, “Let me darling.” Adam gently stopped her, he knew she was frustrated about needing so much help now.

Adam sat behind her and very gently began brushing out her freshly washed hair, “One or two?” Adam asked her, having done her hair many times before.

“Just one please.” She softy mumbled, she was frustrated not thinking she would have any problems doing her hair but she did and she was grateful to have Adam.

Adam began branding her hair into one french braid and tied off the end once he finished the braid, “There you go darling.” He gently rubbed her shoulders trying to cheer her up.

“Thank you.” She mumbled quietly and turned her head towards him flashing him a small appreciative smile.

“Oh! i got you a few things.” Adam remembered smiling excitedly and gently got off her bed and picked up the bouquet of flowers and bag before walking back to her and sitting down next to her and handing her bouquet first.

She smiled softly at Adam as she gently took the bouquet from him and her smile only got bigger as she watched him show her everything he brought for her.

“I love you.” She mumbled interrupting him not that Adam minded because he loved hearing her say those the words.

“I love you too.” Adam beamed back leaning to her and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

#toasts700celly!#adam fantilli #adam fantilli x reader #blue jackets #columbus blue jackets #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl blurbs #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl players #nhl hockey

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ilyasorokinn · 2 years ago

Note

can i request number 11 from the general fluff prompt with kuraly? tysm!

WINSTON AND SEAN = BESTIES

i love sean sm. ty, that's it. that's the tweet.

11. "am i your favorite?" "i like your dog a bit more than you, i won't lie." (from this prompt list)

it was safe to say that sean loved your dog. more than you was still up in the air, but he did love your little boxer, winston. and winston loved him too.

which was how you found yourselves in the arena, in the media room with winston. the jackets had invited most of the players who had dogs, and winston had been invited.

you were standing behind the cameraman, watching as she tried to get winston to look at the camera, "look over here, winston." she waved her hand and snapped, but winston was still looking away.

"over there, dude." sean pointed to the camera, trying to get him to listen too.

nothing either of them was doing was working so you thought quickly. you grabbed a toy from your bag and held it above the camera.

instantly, winston's attention was on the toy, "over here, winnie." you squeaked it and his eyes were on the toy, waiting for you to do something.

but it gave the photographer the perfect opportunity to snap the pictures of sean and winston, "good boy." you cooed, squeaking it and keeping his attention on the toy until she gave you the all-clear.

after the photo shoot, you and sean were on your way home but made a stop to get some food, "so, am i your favorite?"

"eh, i gotta say, i like your dog a bit more than you, i won't lie."

"i should get another dog, and they'll love me." you crossed your arms playfully.

"who are you kidding? they'll probably love me too." he joked.

you rolled your eyes, "i'm kidding. you're my favorite." he laughed, kissing your hand.

"uh-huh." you rolled your eyes.

taylor's 2.5k celly!

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blueskrugs · 2 years ago

Text

sleeping with someone | Nick Blankenburg

I used parts of this fic to cope with the fact that I graduate in a few days. pay no mind to the existential crisis. I think I also listened to too much of stick season while writing this

this one got away from me a teeny, tiny bit. i promise all 14,000 words are worth it.

length: 14.2k words

Nick Blankenburg breaks up with Mikayla Williams three weeks after he gets back to Michigan after Worlds. She doesn’t see it coming until Nick’s standing in front of her and saying, “I don’t think this is going to work out.”

Mikayla blinks at him. Nick looks determined, the same stubborn look that she’s grown to love on his face.

“Sorry, what?”

“I don’t think long-distance is going to work anymore, Mikkie.”

They’d barely had a chance to do long-distance at all. It had only been a few weeks between Michigan crashing out of the Frozen Four, then Nick signing a contract with Columbus and finishing out the season there, before being whisked off to Worlds. She thought it had been going fine—they texted often and Nick called when their schedules lined up enough to allow for it. Nick clearly didn’t think the same thing. He’s still looking at Mikayla with that stubborn set to his mouth, waiting for her to respond. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to say next.

“You’re really breaking up with me? Just like that?” They’d been together almost three years. They’d started to talk about their plans for the future.

Nick shrugs. “I’m going to be getting a new contract this summer, probably, and I really want to be able to experience the NHL fully, y’know?”

So that’s how it is. Mikayla lets out a humorless laugh. “You’re saying that you want to sleep around without the guilt of a girlfriend back home.” Nick blushes, but refuses to back down. “Have a good life, Blankenburg.”

She pushes past him, unlocks her apartment door at last. She’s glad Nick at least waited to dump her until after they’d finished brunch, after he had walked her back home. Nick’s still standing by her door with his hands in his pockets when the door slams behind Mikayla.

Mikayla wishes she could say she moves on easily after that. She’s too angry to feel broken-hearted over it, at first. She collects all of Nick’s clothes that she’s pilfered over the years: sweatshirts and T-shirts and one extremely comfortable pair of sweatpants she’s actually pretty sad to give up. She shoves it all in a box and leaves it by her front door for another week.

She makes a detour to Washington on her way back home to Saginaw for the summer, drops the box off on the Blankenburgs’ porch after she knows Nick’s just had knee surgery and can’t come out and talk to her.

After that, she tries not to think about it.

This is the first summer Mikayla has been single since she started college, and she’ll be damned if she lets moping about Nick ruin it. There will be time for that later.

So Mikayla drives up to the Bay and tans on the beach with her friends, she spends time on Haithco Lake, and she goes out to the same bars as everyone else in her age in Saginaw. She deflects questions that her friends from high school ask about Nick—“We’re taking a break,” she says, drunk in the back of the bar, getting sunburned in a kayak on Haithco. “I’m fine,” she tells her mom, getting home late, stumbling over the sandals she’s just kicked off by the front door.

It’s her best friend who sees through her first, only a few weeks into the summer.

“What?” Mikayla asks flatly, popping another grape into her mouth as she watches Jake watch her, a serious look on his face that she can’t read.

“You’re really okay with Nick dumping you like that?” he asks. “Everyone thought you two would get married in a few more years.”

Mikayla forces herself to shrug. She’d been one of those people who thought she and Nick were going to get married, too. “We just grew out of each other I guess. Nick wanted to move on.”

Move on in life, move on from her.

Mikayla surveys Jake back. They’d been inseparable themselves since middle school. A lot of people had thought they’d be the ones to fall in love and get married, until Mikayla stayed in Michigan for college and Jake had fucked off to Mississippi State to play baseball. All they had these days was the summer.

“Things change, shit happens,” she adds.

Jake doesn’t look impressed by her flippancy. “What really happened?” he asks.

Mikayla’s first single summer is also the first summer she’s turned up without Nick in tow in years. People noticed faster than she would have liked. She’d been trying her hardest to run away from the truth, but she’s always known it would catch up to her eventually.

She forces another shrug. Jake’s still looking at her, too-serious for the sunny summer day, so she doesn’t think she’s coming off as casual as she wants to be.

“Told me he wanted to ‘experience the NHL fully,’ whatever the fuck that means,” she says after she lets the silence drag on too long. She bites down on another grape, the satisfying crunch of it soothing her flaring temper. She barrels on, “He decided he wanted to be able to fuck other girls, that I wasn’t enough anymore, I don’t know. I guess it’s better than just cheating on me.”

Jake stares at her. “That’s shitty,” he says. He shoves his sunglasses to the top of his head. “You know what you have to do, right?” he asks eagerly.

“Spend the summer getting drunk and then focus on graduating?” Mikayla asks. She doesn’t like the mischievous glint in Jake’s eyes.

Jake scoffs. “You’re so boring. No, if Nick’s going to fuck around, what’s stopping you? Hot girl summer it up, baby! There’s nothing holding you back!”

Mikayla bursts out laughing. “Please never say hot girl summer around me again.” She throws a grape at Jake, considering his words; he flails, trying desperately to catch it in his mouth and narrowly avoiding toppling out of his chair. “Who exactly am I supposed to fuck around with?” she asks. Jake straightens up and shoots her a maniacal grin. She holds up a hand. “Not that I’m considering it, just—“

Saginaw isn’t a small town, but it functions enough like one. Everyone they went to high school with still runs in the same circles, the same friend groups coming together at parties when everyone flocks home for the summer. They’re not close enough to the Bay to garner a real tourist presence. If Mikayla were to sleep with anyone in Saginaw, everyone and their mother would know within a week. Sleeping around is way, way out of the picture.

Jake falls silent. Mikayla thinks he’s going to drop it, until he says, “I’m single.”

“No, what? I’m not sleeping with my best friend,” Mikayla protests. Jake knows her well enough to tell that the protest is half-hearted, judging by the raised eyebrows he points at her.

Jake doesn’t push. He’s smirking, though, waiting Mikayla out.

Jake had been Mikayla’s first kiss, tucked away in a hidden corner at one of Jake’s baseball tournaments their sophomore year of high school. They’d never really entertained the idea of going any further than that, no matter what everyone else thought they would do.

Jake’s still the only guy Mikayla’s ever kissed, other than Nick. Maybe he’s onto something with the hot girl summer idea.

“I don’t want another relationship,” Mikayla warns.

Jake holds his hands up in surrender. “Strictly friends with bennies,” Jake promises. “No catching feelings allowed.” He reaches to tug at Mikayla. She doesn’t move much, sweaty skin sticking to her lounger. “God, come over here already.”

Mikayla doesn’t even protest Jake’s weird vocabulary as she unsticks herself and clambers onto his lap. They’re on the back deck of her parents’ house, in the middle of the day. Anyone can see Mikayla in a bikini and Jake in just shorts. She should probably care, but she can’t muster up the energy for it as she settles her hands on Jake’s shoulders.

It’s different than it ever was with Nick. Where Nick’s short and broad, Jake’s tall and lanky. She can still feel the muscles in his shoulders bunch as he shifts beneath her, hands carefully resting on the outside of her thighs.

“Kay, you think too much,” Jake comments, watching her face.

Kay. Nick never called her that. Only her family and Jake have ever called her Kay. “Shut up,” Mikayla says, refusing to dwell on that.

“Make me,” Jake taunts. This close, Mikayla can see his eyes underneath his sunglasses, lit up with amusement.

Mikayla leans forward and kisses him. Jake makes a surprised noise into her mouth. It’s not like it was when they were 16, awkward and fumbling and so unsure of themselves. They’re both older now, more experienced—even if Mikayla doesn’t want to think about just how many girls Jake has slept with now that they’re not attached at the hip anymore.

She lets herself get lost in it, until Jake slides his hands up her thighs to her hips and pushes her away. He’s red all the way up to the tips of his ears, and Mikayla doesn’t think it’s sunburn.

“Not that I didn’t like that,” he pants, grip tight on Mikayla to keep her from squirming. “But we are still outside.”

Mikayla thinks they should change that, so she climbs out of Jake’s lap and gets to her feet. She offers a hand to Jake, who blinks up at her for a moment, before lacing their fingers together and letting himself be pulled to his feet.

Mikayla spends most of the summer tumbling into bed with Jake. They’re probably not as subtle about it as they could be, but Mikayla thinks she’s overdue for a summer fling. She ignores the knowing smiles and raised eyebrows their other friends send their way when they’re pressed close in the dark of the bar, when they leave a party together.

It takes her weeks to stop comparing Jake to Nick, the way he touches her, the way his lips feel against her skin. Until she no longer has to choke back Nick’s name. She wakes up one morning to Jake still in her bed, his arm draped around her waist. Mikayla has to blink a few times when she rolls over and realizes that it’s Jake next to her, not Nick.

Mikayla dreams of Nick, dreams of that first summer together, when she got to bring him home for the first time. The first time she realized she was falling in love.

Nick fidgets the entire hour and a half drive from his house to Saginaw. He reaches to change the song that’s just started, but Mikayla slaps his hand away.

“No complaining about my playlist,” she says.

“I’m not complaining,” Nick complains. “I just didn’t want to listen to that song.”

‘That song’ in question is a Taylor Swift song. Mikayla turns the volume up. Nick sighs, but Mikayla can see him smiling at her from the corner of her eye.

Nick had insisted that he could make the drive up to Saginaw by himself. Mikayla didn’t need to be driving three hours round-trip just to pick him up, he’d argued, but Mikayla had barely left her house since Michigan had sent all of the students home in March. Driving three hours round-trip was as close to an adventure as she was going to get this summer. Besides, it gives them a little bit of time to themselves after not seeing each other for months before being under constant supervision by Mikayla’s parents.

Nick’s back to fidgeting the passenger seat.

“Would you quit that?” Mikayla says. Nick stops picking at his fingernails. “Everyone is going to love you.” Nick’s cute and charming and polite, a good Michigan boy through and through. Mikayla’s pretty sure there’s a good chance her family ends up liking Nick more than they like her, actually.

When Mikayla pulls into the driveway, her dog is the first one out the front door, closely followed by her mom. She wraps Mikayla in a hug as soon as she’s out of her car.

“Geez, I was barely gone for three hours,” Mikayla says, but hugs her mom back just as tightly.

Her mom moves on to Nick after releasing Mikayla. He meets Mikayla’s eyes over her mom’s shoulder, looking a little startled. Mikayla just laughs.

“Oh, Kay, Grandma and Grandpa are coming over for dinner tomorrow,” her mom says. “They want to be able to meet Nick, too.”

Mikayla’s grandma had decided she loved Nick the moment she found out they shared a birthday. Mikayla’s not too worried about what they’re going to think of him once they finally meet him.

Nick’s casting a confused look around as he follows Mikayla into the house.

“I hope the pullout is comfortable enough for you, Nick,” her mom is saying. The spare sheets and blanket are all folded on the arm of the couch. “But it was either the pullout or a blow-up mattress in the office upstairs.”

Mikayla has slept on that blow-up mattress before. It tends to deflate in the middle of the night. “You’re better off on the pullout,” Mikayla whispers to him.

“Kay, will you bring in some extra drinks from the garage fridge? Dinner will be ready soon.”

Mikayla does as she’s told, grabbing a few sodas and beers. She cracks open a can of hard seltzer she’d grabbed for herself and offers one to Nick. He raises an eyebrow at Mikayla’s drink choice—she’s not quite 20 yet, but she’s been drinking since high school—and takes a soda for himself. He’s making a face Mikayla can’t read as he listens to her mom go on and on about how much they’ve been looking forward to having Nick visit.

“Kay’s done nothing but talk about you since the fall,” she’s saying. Mikayla blushes as Nick shoots her an amused look.

“Why does everyone call you Kay?” Nick asks the next night, after her grandparents have left. It’s getting late, and Nick’s voice is pitched low, out on the deck as fireflies flicker around them.

“Hm? Oh, everyone in my family has always called me that.”

“But everyone at school calls you Mikayla or Mikkie,” Nick says. Except for Nolan Moyle, who decided that “Nick and Mik” was hilarious when they first started dating.

Mikayla shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess Kay is just supposed to be a family thing.” It’s hard to see in the dark, but Mikayla can tell Nick’s eyebrows are creased. “I’m named after my Grandma. Her name is Katherine, but everyone has always called her Kay. My mom is her only daughter and wanted me to keep the name without actually naming me Katherine. She kinda took the nickname Kay and worked backwards until she settled on Mikayla.”

Mikayla still remembers when she started school and never responded to her full name because she had only ever been called Kay. It had worried her teachers for months.

“So if I started calling you Kay…” Nick says thoughtfully.

“Nope, family only,” Mikayla says firmly. Plus her best friend, but they’ve been friends so long he’s practically a part of the family anyway. It’s too early to be thinking things like that with Nick.

“Guess I’ll just have to become a part of the family,” Nick jokes.

Jake kisses Mikayla awake before Nick can kiss her in her dream. She stretches and rolls over in Jake’s bed, warm in the late afternoon sunlight slanting through his blinds.

“Your mom texted,” Jake says. “She wants you home for dinner.”

Mikayla will need a shower before she can go home, wash off the sunscreen, the feeling of Jake’s hands on her skin. She rolls back over and burrows into one of Jake’s pillows. “Five more minutes.”

It’s not moving on, but it helps. The summer passes in a haze of sunshine and sex. Mikayla blinks and it’s August, and they’re heading their separate ways again: Jake off to Mississippi, Mikayla packing her car for Ann Arbor.

Jake kisses her goodbye the night before he leaves. Mikayla has to stop herself from clinging to him as he pulls away, beg him not to go. It feels like they’re 18 and leaving each other for the first time, unsure how to live without being by each other’s sides. No catching feelings, Jake had told her.

“Don’t forget to have some fun this semester, okay?” Jake says now.

Mikayla has a feeling he’s talking about more than her tendency to care more about hiding from the world in her apartment than hanging out with friends. Though, now that she thinks about it, most of her friends were on the hockey team, a by-product of dating Nick for so long. She’s not sure she’ll be spending much time around them these days.

“I’ll try,” Mikayla says.

It’s easy enough to settle back into life in Ann Arbor. Mikayla goes to her classes and meets up with her non-hockey friends. They mercifully don’t ask any questions about the breakup. She doesn’t hear from any of the boys from the hockey team, and she tries to convince herself it doesn’t hurt. They were always Nick’s friends first. She was just the captain’s girlfriend.

The team announces Nolan Moyle as the new captain a few weeks after summer ends. Mikayla stares at the picture on Instagram—Jacob, Luke and Keaton with their shiny new letters and, in the middle of it all, Nolan. She’s known Nolan since she was a freshman, and he was just Nick’s obnoxious best friend. She usually spends the summer idly Snapchatting Moyle photos of her mixed drinks and sunburns, but she hasn’t spoken to him in months.

She can’t believe she actually misses his loud mouth.

She hesitates before pulling up their text thread, but sends off a quick “congrats on the C!” message before she can think better of it.

Nolan texts back almost immediately, a string of all the blue and yellow emojis, followed by a more genuine thanks.

Mikayla expects that to be the end of it—there’s no reason for the conversation to continue, and no reason to believe Nolan is missing her friendship as much as she’s missing his.

Except Moyle FaceTimes Mikayla later that afternoon, while she’s doing homework. She answers it to a terrible angle of Nolan’s face, mostly nose and that awful mustache he insists on. It looks like he’s walking out of Yost after practice.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” Nolan asks without preamble.

“Uh, no?” Mikayla checks the time in the corner of her screen. She should probably start cooking soon, though.

“I’m bringing pizza over,” Nolan announces.

Mikayla hears someone yelling to Nolan off-camera, and he turns to talk to whoever it is. While he’s distracted, the phone jostles until Mikayla is looking directly at the ceiling. The phone shifts again, except this time it’s someone stealing Moyle’s phone and appearing in frame. It’s Truss, and Mikayla finds herself smiling.

“Hi, Mikkie,” Jacob says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but Nolan wraps him in a headlock before he can get anything out.

The chaos of it relaxes Mikayla. She’d gotten used to the noise and antics of the hockey team after dating Nick for three years. Her life has been too quiet without them.

“Hey, you’re still coming to games this season, right?” Nolan asks, still grappling with Truss for his phone.

Mikayla had actually planned on avoiding Yost at all costs this year.

“Probably not?” It would feel weird, Mikayla thinks, to be cheering on all of her other friends at Yost without Nick being there, too. To know so many people out on the ice but not be able to talk to them without feeling like something—someone—is missing.

Jacob and Nolan stop fighting long enough to gape at Mikayla. Their matching expressions of disbelief are enough to make her laugh.

“Why not?” Truss asks, at the same time Nolan says, “What, do you not like us anymore?”

Mikayla giggles again, a little more comfortable this time, and shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess I just wasn’t sure I’d want to after Nick dumped me.”

“That’s stupid, you have to come,” Nolan says. Mikayla knows him well enough to know that he will do everything he can to make sure Mikayla is at every game. “What do you want on your pizza?” Nolan asks, switching topics so fast it nearly gives Mikayla whiplash.

She was almost hoping Nolan had forgotten he’d talked about pizza.

“Pepperoni,” she says.

Nolan makes a face. “You always want pepperoni,” he complains. “Whatever, I’ll be over in like, half an hour.”

He hangs up abruptly. Mikayla blinks at her phone for a moment, bewildered, before going back to her homework.

Someone’s banging on Mikayla’s door. She doesn’t have to check the peephole to know that it’s Nolan. She throws the door open to Moyle’s grinning face.

“Sup, Mikkie,” he says, shouldering his way past Mikayla and into her apartment. He throws the pizza box down and pulls out the second chair at Mikayla’s little kitchen table.

“Making yourself right at home, huh?” Mikayla asks. She hands Nolan a plate and settles into the chair across from him. Nolan has a habit of taking up too much space in every room he is in, loud and brash and comfortable. Mikayla had hated that about him when she had first met him, but she has been missing it more than she’d care to admit.

Nolan grins at her. “Like I never left, baby.”

Mikayla snags another slice of pizza and watches Nolan across the table. It’s not too different from casual dinners shared with Nick last year, after she’d moved into her first apartment. Not too different from another September night after Nick had been named captain last season.

It’s not a surprise, exactly, when Nick calls Mikayla to tell her that the team has offered him the C for his senior season. He’d known for a while, had walked away from a deal with Colorado in part because of the chance to be captain. Mikayla still screams into the phone with excitement, covering Nick’s chuckle on the other end.

Nick appears at Mikayla’s door later that evening with takeout for dinner. He has a few seconds to grin at Mikayla before she’s launching herself at him.

“Whoa, hang on,” Nick says, struggling to catch Mikayla and not drop their food.

Mikayla keeps her arms looped around Nick’s neck as they shuffle awkwardly into her apartment. Nick carefully sets the bag of food down on Mikayla’s kitchen table. She does her best to jump up into Nick’s arms, and he helps, sliding his hands to the backs of her thighs, hitching her up higher.

“Hi there,” Nick says, grinning so widely his eyes crinkle.

Mikayla kisses him fiercely, cupping his face in her hands. She pulls away just enough to say, “I’m so proud of you, Nick.”

And she really is. Nick’s come so far in his years at Michigan, from walk-on to captain, and Mikayla’s been lucky enough to be by his side for a lot of it.

Nick kisses her again. They end up having to re-heat their dinner.

Nolan nudges Mikayla with his foot, jolting her out of her thoughts.

“Whatcha thinking about over there?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Mikayla says quickly. It seems pitiful to say that she’s thinking about Nick. Nolan looks skeptical. “Just wondering who exactly thought it was a good idea to make you captain, actually.”

“Hey!” Nolan protests.

Moyle re-inserts himself into Mikayla’s life after that. He drags her out to the senior house to meet all the new freshmen—she spends a week and a half mixing up the Fantilli brothers— and he drags her out to Skeeps for more than one Thirsty Thursday in the early weeks of the semester before the hockey season starts properly.

He laughs so hard when Mikayla tells him about her semi-failed Hot Girl Summer that she’s pretty sure he’s going to snort beer out his nose. Mikayla frowns into her own drink, a Blue Hawaiian that Nolan had mocked, even though he kept stealing sips in between bites of fries. Mikayla kicks him as hard as she can underneath the table.

When Nolan has finished laughing, he says, “You planning a Hot Girl Fall?” He sweeps an arm out for dramatic effect. “Lot more options here in Ann Arbor.”

Mikayla shrugs. “I might.” Nolan already knows that Nick is the only guy she’s ever dated. “See what it’s all about, y’know?” See what was so appealing about the idea of casual hook-ups to Nick that he broke up with her to chase them.

Nolan’s smirk grows. “Wanna start tonight?” He casts a look over the crowded bar floor. “I’m sure I can find someone acceptable for you.”

“Acceptable by whose standards?” Mikayla asks, but she is ignored. She kicks Nolan under the table again to get his attention. He swears under his breath and kicks her back, but at least he’s looking at her. “Nolan, I don’t know how to flirt or any of that shit.”

Nolan grins at Mikayla. She recognizes that grin—it usually means Nolan’s up to no good.

“Trust me, baby, you’re pretty and smart. You won’t have any problems.”

Nolan scans Skeeps for another minute or two before he points to a guy around their age, standing at the bar and bobbing his head to the music the DJ is playing. Mikayla feels like she’s seen him around campus before.

“Bet you can get him to buy you a shot,” Nolan says.

Mikayla rolls her eyes, but drains the last of her drink and stands up. She makes her way over to the bar and slides in next to the guy Nolan had pointed out for her. He turns and smiles at Mikayla.

“Want to do a shot with me?” Mikayla blurts before she can think better of it.

The guy shrugs. “Why not?” He flags a bartender down and orders for them. It’s too loud to hear what he orders, but it goes down easy. “Wanna dance?” he asks next.

Mikayla never does catch his name, but they spend a while on the crowded dance floor. She doesn’t go home with him, either, but he buys her another drink before she has to hunt down Moyle again.

“Did you have fun?” Nolan asks with a smirk when she collapses back into her seat across the table from him.

“Shut up.”

That night starts a spiral for Mikayla—a semester full of hook-ups and one night stands. She feels like she’s hunting whatever it is about mindless, loveless sex that was so enticing to Nick. She wonders if she missed out on something when she was with Nick for most of her college years. Is it better? Is it more fun? She doesn’t know the answer, but it doesn’t stop her from sleeping with a new guy every week.

There’s the frat boy who was enthusiastic but left beard burn in rather unsavory places.

Another frat guy who locks the door to a bathroom and pulls up her skirt at a party Mikayla isn’t even sure she belongs at, or how she even got through the door.

The lacrosse player who reminds Mikayla a little too much of Nick, when he’s handing her water before the sweat on her body has even cooled.

The guy from one of her classes who she manages to do more with than just fuck—three whole dates—before he says he isn’t looking for anything serious.

The boy from the bar who buys her a drink and makes out with her in the hallway, but doesn’t take her home. There’s a hickey on her collarbone she spends a week hiding, after that one.

One who approaches her in the library on a rainy day and drives her home. He’s the first one Mikayla invites up to her apartment, and she’s not sure she ever really gets his name. (“He’s pretty brave for getting past the RBF,” Truss comments later, after Mikayla ditched him in the library. She throws her computer mouse at him.)

The boys—their names, their faces—start to blur together between late nights studying and early morning classes. Mikayla feels nothing, feels like she could scream. She puts her head down and does her homework. Focuses on getting good grades, focuses on the next time she’s getting laid.

Nolan Moyle is by her side through it all, buying her drinks, playing wingman. He makes sure Mikayla starts coming to hockey games at Yost again, and he drags her out with the team after wins, until Mikayla slots back into friendships with the rest of the team, too. It’s kind of nice to have Nolan watching her back when they’re out at Skeeps, once Mikayla gets over the weirdness of her ex-boyfriend’s best friend helping her go out and hook-up.

There’s a party at the senior house after finals end in December. It’s lowkey, as far as team parties go, just the guys and their girlfriends. Mikayla slips in late after spending far too long agonizing over what to wear, before realizing she was being ridiculous and throwing on jeans and a Michigan sweatshirt. There’s yelling coming from the living room, so Mikayla sneaks into the kitchen to grab a beer.

“Stooping to our level?” Luke asks, suddenly appearing over her shoulder. Mikayla swears, nearly dropping her freshly opened can. He takes a sip of his own beer, smirking. Mikayla wonders how she always ends up with the bitchiest freshman as her favorites.

“I spend too much time around Nolan,” Mikayla says, taking a drink with a grimace. Beer never has been her favorite, though she’s unfortunately gotten a bit more used to it. She swats at the brim of Luke’s Yankees hat. “You’re not even twenty yet, who gave you a beer in the first place?”

Luke steps back, out of Mikayla’s reach. “Can’t play beer pong without beer,” he says, resettling his hat. That explains the yelling then. “Nolan wants you as his second, by the way,” Luke calls over his shoulder as he makes his way back out of the kitchen.

Mikayla heaves a sigh, takes another fortifying drink of her still-sorta-disgusting beer, and follows Luke. Nolan whoops when Mikayla steps into the living room and makes his way over to throw his arm around Mikayla's shoulders.

She lets herself be pulled into Nolan’s side as he yells, “Me and Mik are in next game!”

Playing as Nolan’s second is familiar after months and months of it. They’ve actually turned into quite the force to be reckoned with. The evening passes quickly with Nolan by her side, plying her with more drinks as they beat more and more of his teammates at beer pong. A cheer goes up when they beat Holtzy and his girlfriend. Nolan wraps Mikayla in a hug so strong it lifts her off her feet.

Mikayla turns to celebrate with Nick, too—except Nick’s not there. Of course Nick isn’t there; he moved on to bigger and better things.

It’s getting late when Mikayla slips upstairs to find the bathroom and get some air. It’s hot downstairs, despite the December chill outside. There’s a window at the end of the hallway, and Mikayla throws it open, gasping in the cold air. Someone has knocked the screen out at some point, allowing Mikayla to lean halfway out the window. The street is quiet, but she can still hear the party downstairs. A tear slips down her cheek, and she lets it.

That’s where Nolan finds her a few minutes later. “Hey, there you are,” he says lowly. “Been looking for you, Mik.”

Mikayla tries to dry her face with her sweatshirt sleeve. She hopes it doesn’t fuck up her makeup. She turns to face Nolan. “Just needed a little time to cool off.”

Nolan’s looking at her with concern. He doesn’t even look tipsy, despite the fact that he’s had a drink in his hand all night. Mikayla, on the other hand, has probably had too much to drink, so much she’s dizzy with it.

“Everything okay?” Nolan asks.

“Yeah, I just—“ Mikayla cuts herself off. She can’t finish that thought, can’t admit that she misses Nick.

Later, Mikayla will blame the alcohol for what happens next. Blame the sleep deprivation and stress of finals week. Blame the heartbreak, finally catching up to her.

Nolan stops her with a gentle hand on her shoulder when she tries to lean in. “Mikkie, what are you doing, babe?” he asks softly. They’re still in the upstairs hallway of the senior house. Any one of Nolan’s teammates could come upstairs and see them, see Mikayla pressed up against the captain in the dark.

She tries to pull away, but Nolan slides his hand from her shoulder down to her wrist. His fingers wrap easily around her wrist, grip gentle but firm enough Mikayla can’t escape. “I— I don’t know, I shouldn’t— I’m sorry.” She tries to pull away again, but Nolan tightens his hold.

“Hey, c’mon,” he says. There’s a note of teasing in his voice, one that’s familiar. Mikayla has known Nolan Moyle for four years. Teasing she can handle. She dares to look up at him and his stupid mustache. He’s grinning at her. “You know we shouldn’t.” Mikayla nods. “That’s not fair to Nick, I couldn’t do that to him.”

That makes Mikayla bristle. She finally manages to yank her hand free and crosses her arms at Nolan. “I don’t give a fuck about Nick,” she insists. Honestly, she really hadn’t even been thinking about Nick—if only for a moment.

“I think we both know that’s not true,” Nolan says gently. Mikayla’s eyes burn suddenly; God, she must be more drunk than she thought. Nolan wraps her in a hug. “I think it’s time to get you to bed, huh, Mik?”

Mikayla sleeps in Nolan’s bed that night, wakes up hungover in one of his T-shirts. Moyle’s not in bed next to her like he was when they fell asleep, too close in Nolan’s too small bed. Mikayla rolls over and winces at the sunlight streaming through the open curtains. She really shouldn’t have had so much to drink at the party; she’s supposed to be driving back home for break later today.

Mikayla’s debating whether she can get up and sneak out before Nolan returns from wherever he’s disappeared to when the bedroom door creaks open. Nolan pokes his head in, as if this isn’t literally his bedroom.

He grins when he sees that Mikayla’s awake and kicks the door open the rest of the way. He’s holding a coffee in each hand, one for himself and one for Mikayla. He throws himself onto the bed near Mikayla’s legs.

“So,” Nolan starts. Mikayla pulls her legs to her chest and glares at Nolan. “We’re talking about last night.”

In all the years Mikayla has known Nolan Moyle, he’s been chronically allergic to being serious, but he’s looking at her now without a trace of a smile on his face. “We don’t have to,” Mikayla says, but she takes the iced coffee Nolan is still holding out to her.

“I don’t know how you drink that stuff in the winter,” he comments blithely before continuing. “It’s not that I don’t want to sleep with you, Miks, but you’re Nick’s girl.”

“Not Nick’s girl anymore,” Mikayla snaps. “He made that pretty clear.” Her eyes are burning with unshed tears again, and she gulps her coffee to cover it.

Nolan’s undeterred. “He asks about you, you know.”

“Fuck off, no way he does.” For all that Nolan’s probably one of Mikayla’s best friends in Ann Arbor these days, he was Nick’s best friend first. The reminder stings a little. She’s not sure how she feels about the fact that they’ve apparently been talking about her, or that Nolan is just now telling her this.

Nolan digs out his phone. “Has too.” He scrolls for a moment before starting to read out texts from Nick. They’re all about her: how she’s doing, if she’s still coming to games at Yost, and, horrifyingly, if she’s seeing anyone. Mikayla kicks at Nolan until he stops reading. He locks his phone and makes a face at Mikayla. “You’re lucky I haven’t told him that you’ve been sleeping your way through three different frats.”

Mikayla makes a face back. “That’s none of your fucking business,” she tells him. Nor is it exactly true, though she has maybe fucked more than one guy from more than one fraternity this semester.

“Our Nick’s pining, babe,” Nolan insists.

“Someone needs to remind Nick that he broke up with me so he could fuck other girls without strings attached.”

Nolan scoffs. “We both know Nick’s not that kind of guy,” he says.

Mikayla sighs. Nolan is right about that part. It’s part of the reason Mikayla had been so caught off guard by Nick ending things. Nick was the type of guy to settle down, not fuck around.

“Have you been possessed by Truss or something?” Mikayla asks instead of unpacking everything Nolan’s revealed. “Since when can you hold a serious conversation for this long?” It’s almost unsettling.

“I’m worried about you,” Nolan says, once again undeterred by Mikayla trying to deflect. “Both of you actually.”

“I’m fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mikayla says. She picks at a loose thread on Nolan’s sheets to avoid meeting his eyes.

“This isn’t like you, either, Mik,” Nolan says.

Mikayla finally decides she’s done with this conversation. She throws off the blankets and clambers out of Nolan’s bed. She momentarily forgets that she’s wearing nothing but one of Nolan’s shirts until she sees him looking at her bare legs. He looks back up at her face, leering. Heartfelt conversation officially over.

Mikayla doesn’t have anything to throw at his head. “Get out,” she says, trying not to laugh.

“This is my room,” Nolan points out. He’s holding back laughter, too. “Hey, are you going to the Wings game in January, like right after break ends?”

Mikayla blinks at him, thrown off by the sudden topic change. “Uh, no?” It’s been a while since she drove into Detroit to catch a game. It used to be a monthly date with Nick.

“We should go,” Nolan says. There’s something falsely confident about his tone of voice.

Mikayla squints at him, suspicious. “Why, who are they playing?”

Nolan’s bravado falters for a moment, and that’s enough answer for Mikayla.

“No, no way.”

“I think you two need to talk,” Nolan counters.

“I don’t think there’s anything left to talk about.” She finds the jeans she was wearing last night and pulls them on.

“KJ will want to see you,” Nolan says. There’s a smirk on his face now.

“That’s not fair.” Everyone knew that KJ had been one of her favorite freshmen.

“Just…think about it, okay?” Nolan asks.

Mikayla heaves a sigh. “Fine, whatever.”

Nolan grins and smacks a kiss to Mikayla’s temple. “Text me when you get home to Saginaw.”

Mikayla’s only a little later leaving her apartment than she’d originally told her mom she’d leave, after rushing home from the senior house and frantically finishing packing for winter break.

She thinks while she drives. It’s finally starting to hit her, just how much she’s been missing Nick. She’d been telling herself she was fine, hiding the heartbreak with hook-ups. If Nick can do it, so can I, she’d thought vindictively more than once. She had never slept with anybody before Nick; now she’s not sure she could count all the guys she’s slept with since summer.

She thinks of all the times she went home with Nick over the holidays before they drove up to Saginaw to spend time with her family. Both of their moms had been absolutely thrilled when they’d started dating, so excited that they’d each found another Michigander to fall in love with. She thinks of the first time she’d come home with Nick, Christmas of her sophomore year, so nervous she’d felt like she was going to throw up in the passenger seat of Nick’s car.

“You’re going to be fine,” Nick says, reaching across the console to take Mikayla’s hand. She sends him an exasperated look. “Mikkie, seriously, everyone will love you.” Nick brings Mikayla’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of her hand. “C’mon, everyone’s waiting.”

“That’s the problem,” Mikayla grumbles, but she lets Nick let go of her hand and shoves open her car door.

Nick insists on carrying both of their bags, which means Mikayla is left to push open the front door. She’s met with a wall of noise and warmth. It’s immediately comforting in a way she didn’t expect, reminds her of home and her own family.

Nick drops Mikayla’s duffel bag on the floor next to her just as Nick’s mom rounds the corner. She rushes to Nick for a hug before turning on Mikayla and wrapping her in one too.

“Everyone’s so excited to meet you, Mikayla,” Nick’s mom says. She turns to Nick. “Take those bags upstairs. Mikayla can have Katrina’s old room, shoo,” she says with a smile, flapping her hands at both of them.

Mikayla trails after Nick as he dumps his own bag in his bedroom before stepping down the hall and dropping Mikayla’s bag at the foot of the bed in what must be Katrina’s room. He turns to Mikayla with a grin.

“I told you it was going to be fine,” he says.

Mikayla doesn’t point out that they’ve only encountered Nick’s mom so far, which hardly even counts because she’s talked to Karin on phone calls with Nick countless times, just lets herself be reeled in for a quick kiss. They’re probably pushing their luck just being alone up here. Nick takes Mikayla’s hand in his and leads the way back downstairs.

It’s annoying when Nick’s right about things, which is unfortunately often. The days at the Blankenburgs’ house do turn out to be fine. More than fine, actually. Everyone’s nice, if a bit overwhelming. Mikayla holds so many babies—young cousins and nieces and nephews—that she loses track of which baby belongs to whom. She wins several overly aggressive games of Spoons on Christmas Eve, much to Nick’s chagrin. Nick even sneaks into her room and squeezes next to her under the covers in the early blue dawn on Christmas morning, kissing her awake before pulling her close to doze back off.

They’re definitely pushing their luck with that one, but Mikayla can’t bring herself to care, cozy and safe from the frosty world beyond the curtains.

Mikayla blinks away the memory and pulls into her parents’ driveway. Her dog is waiting for her on the front lawn, holding her favorite toy and wiggling all over. Mikayla throws her door open and throws herself on the ground next to her dog, heedless of the frozen grass. They lay there, staring at the sky, until Mikayla’s fingers go numb and her mom is calling for her to come inside, while Mikayla thinks and thinks.

Jake’s home for the holidays, too, and he appears to drag Mikayla out of bed a few days after she’d gotten home.

“How’d you even get in here,” Mikayla complains into her pillow as Jake flops onto the bed next to her, half on top of her. The dog, who’d been sleeping on the floor next to Mikayla, decides she has to be included too and launches herself onto the bed.

“Your mom loves me,” Jake says. “C’mon, I’m bored, we should do something.”

There’s not much to do in Saginaw on any day, especially in the winter, but Mikayla elbows Jake until he rolls off her and she can get out of bed. They end up in Jake’s car, just driving around town with the music up loud. Jake only raises his eyebrows a little bit at the amount of Noah Kahan mixed in with Christmas songs on Mikayla’s playlist.

It’s always easy to fall back into old habits with Jake, and they complain about professors and classes for a while, trading stories, even though they’ve been having weekly hours-long phone calls since they were freshmen. Jake had kept quiet about Mikayla’s dating life—or hook-up life—throughout the semester, but he doesn’t hesitate to be nosy now.

“Seeing anyone?” he asks at a stoplight, looking sidelong at Mikayla.

Mikayla makes a face. “You know I’m not,” she says. She’d stopped sleeping around so much as the end of the semester approached, tired of the effort required for mostly mediocre lays. Tired as she started missing Nick more and more.

“Really?” Jake asks. He almost actually sounds surprised. “No romance in one night stands?”

They’re moving again, and Mikayla is briefly safe from Jake’s gaze. He knows how to read her face better than anyone, and Mikayla’s afraid of what might be showing now as she says, “Didn’t really have the heart for it.”

Jake’s quiet for a moment. Mikayla watches in slow motion as he comes to a stop at another red light before turning towards her again. He leans in before Mikayla can stop him, but she pulls away. There’s no hurt on Jake’s face, just confusion. No catching feelings, Mikayla thinks again.

“There’s something else, though, isn’t there?” Jake asks.

“Moyle says Nick’s still in love with me,” Mikayla says quietly.

Jake laughs. “And why shouldn’t he be? I always thought he was an idiot for breaking up with you in the first place.” Mikayla takes a shaky breath, but Jake continues. “Any guy would be stupid to let you go, Kay.”

“Including you?” Mikayla whispers. Jake laughs. “Especially me. I should have locked that shit down in high school.” Mikayla can’t help but laugh, too. “I probably would have let you back then.”

They’d talked about it a few times, on their backs in the backyard grass, staring up at the summer stars. Mikayla had never been serious about it, not really, but now she has to wonder if Jake had been serious. The talk about going to college together, moving to Detroit together. They’d been attached at the hip— “You can’t spell Jake without Kay,” Mikayla’s grandmother had joked more than once.

“And now?” Jake asks. They’re still idling in front of Mikayla’s house. At some point, Jake shifted to holding Mikayla’s hand over the gearshift, gripping it tightly in his own.

“What happened to ‘no catching feelings’?” Mikayla teases, and Jake cracks a grin. Mikayla heaves a sigh. “I think you know the answer here, Jakey.”

“I don’t want Nick to break your heart a second time,” Jake says fiercely.

“The Blue Jackets are coming to Detroit in January,” Mikayla says. “Nolan thinks I should at least talk to Nick.”

“Since when do you listen to Moyle’s ideas?” Jake snorts.

“Since he got the C and grew up a little, God, I don’t know.” Jake does have a point. Agreeing with Nolan Moyle is dangerous, even if he has turned out to be a pretty good leader. Mikayla shakes their joined hands a little. “Hey, if Nick does break my heart again, you’re the first person I’ll run to.”

“Promise?” Jake asks. He’s grinning, easy with it. “That’s what best friends are for, right? Swearing to kill your ex and then helping you get drunk to forget about him?”

Mikayla can’t help but laugh. “Something like that.” And before she can think better of it, she asks, “Can I do something stupid?”

Jake has barely said, “Of course,” when Mikayla leans across the console to kiss him one last time, her hands on either side of his face. Jake kisses back hard, leaving Mikayla breathless when she pulls away. “Hell of a goodbye, Kay,” Jake says.

“I’ll see you later, Jakey,” Mikayla says, kicking open the passenger door and climbing out of Jake’s car.

Mikayla cries on Christmas Eve. She’d had too much wine to drink with dinner, and she collapses into her bed as snowflakes drift past the window. It’s the first time she’s really let herself cry since Nick dumped that June day. She’d alternated between resolutely not thinking about him and going through life powered by a need for—revenge? vindication? She’s not sure she can put a word to it.

It didn’t matter, anyway; Nick wasn’t around for Mikayla to hurt with her actions the same way Nick had hurt her.

Mikayla wakes up with a headache and Nick’s contact open on her phone.

Mikayla calls Nolan as soon as she’s back in Ann Arbor.

“You lied to me,” she says without preamble.

“What?” Nolan says. There’s commotion on his end of the line, which means he’s probably at Yost.

“Columbus is here this weekend, and you’re playing Ohio State.” There’s a text from KJ on Mikayla’s phone, asking if she’ll be at Yost on Friday night. It had come in while she was driving back to her apartment. She hasn’t answered it. “You said you’d go to the Wings game with me when they were in town.”

“I did say that, didn’t I? In my defense, I didn’t realize they were coming in on a weekend.”

“KJ texted me,” she says.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, someone said something about KJ and Nick coming out for their rings on Friday.”

Mikayla suddenly has a headache. Nick was never supposed to come back to Ann Arbor. Mikayla had been so proud of him when he first signed with Columbus, but he had deliberately left her and Ann Arbor in the rear view. Ann Arbor was hers now.

Nolan’s still talking. “—talk, you should still come to the game on Friday.”

Mikayla can’t think of much worse than having to see Nick at Yost. “I’m not going to fucking talk to Nick about our breakup at a hockey game.” She’d rather not have a breakdown in front of the entire hockey team, thanks.

“Okay, so I bring him over to your apartment after the game.”

“Absolutely not,” Mikayla says.

“Mik.”

“Nolan.”

“You said you’d talk to him,” Nolan says.

“I said I would think about talking to him,” Mikayla counters. She hears Nolan sigh loudly through the phone. “What the fuck am I even supposed to say? ‘Sorry to hear that wheeling girls isn’t satisfying like you’d hoped’? Or, ‘I’ve slept with so many guys this semester I’ve lost track, but I haven’t found one that makes me feel the way being with you did’?” Mikayla snaps her mouth shut. She’s said too much.

“Oh, Mik,” Nolan says. He’s not teasing, which would be preferable to the pity in his voice.

“Moyle, shut the fuck up,” Mikayla snaps.

“Mik, you need to talk to Nick,” Nolan says, ignoring her. “I don’t need to do anything,” Mikayla says.

Nolan sighs again. “Fine, I can’t make you do anything, I guess.” With that, he hangs up.

Surprised, Mikayla stares at her phone. She’s not sure she has ever actually made Nolan mad like that before.

Mikayla spends the week leading up to Friday thinking. Nolan hasn’t spoken to her since he hung up the phone, and Mikayla doesn’t dare seek him out. KJ texts Mikayla three more times, with increasing levels of urgency and annoyance as they all go unanswered. Mikayla’s not sure what there is to say. She can’t promise anything.

She’s half-sure she’s going to skip the game right up until she walks through the doors of Yost on Friday afternoon. It’s loud and as crowded as ever, but there’s an extra kind of excited energy in the air. Mikayla isn’t sure if it’s just the Ohio State rivalry, but she wonders if some of the buzz she feels is because everyone else is just as excited about Nick and KJ returning as she’s supposed to be.

Mikayla doesn’t see either of them as she settles into her seat in the student section. She slides her phone out of her pocket, finds all of her unread messages from KJ. don’t leave without saying hi to me after the game, she sends. She puts her phone back away without waiting to see if KJ reads it.

The game itself isn’t pretty. Michigan gets outplayed, even though it’s tied after the first, but it’s 6-2 Ohio by the time they’re introducing KJ and Nick as the Score-O participants at second intermission.

Nick looks good, unfortunately. He seems happy to be back on the ice at Yost, even briefly. Even KJ manages a smile as the crowd cheers for them. Mikayla thought she’d heard something about Nick breaking his ankle earlier in the season, but it doesn’t seem to bother him at all as he scores and runs across the ice to throw his stick into the crowd. Mikayla rolls her eyes.

She’s standing in the concourse after the game when someone throws themselves at Mikayla from behind. She stumbles, but he wraps his arms around her shoulders before they both fall. KJ. Of course. She leans back into his chest, lets him rest his chin on top of her head.

“Moyle said you weren’t coming,” KJ says. He doesn’t move his chin from Mikayla’s head as he talks, and Mikayla elbows him until he lets her go.

“Yeah, well, you should never listen to Moyle,” Mikayla says. She tries to sound breezy, but she probably doesn’t succeed.

Kent gives her a flat look. Mikayla finally spots Nick, approaching from behind KJ. If Mikayla still had any intentions of ignoring him, it’s too late now. Nick sends her a tight smile as he steps up beside KJ. Kent looks back and forth between the two of them for a moment then sighs loudly.

“Figure your shit out, I’m tired of dealing with Nick,” he says to both of them. Mikayla crosses her arms and tries to glare at KJ. “I’m going outside, you two have ten minutes to talk.” He points at Mikayla. “We’re getting ice cream before we have to go back to Detroit.”

Kent stalks off before Nick or Mikayla can get a word in, which leaves Mikayla alone in a hallway with her ex. She swears at KJ under her breath. She’s not sure, but she thinks she hears Nick let out a quiet laugh.

“Hi,” Mikayla says. She wishes desperately for anyone to come save her, but no one comes.

Nick drags the toe of his sneaker across the floor. “Hey, Mikkie,” he says softly. “I’ve been wanting to talk—”

“Good job at Score-O tonight,” Mikayla blurts, cutting him off. She winces.

“Mikkie, c’mon,” Nick says, exasperated. “We need to talk.” “Do we, though?” Mikayla says. “I didn’t think there was any ambiguity left when you dumped me, so you could go off and fuck other girls.”

Nick winces. It doesn’t make Mikayla feel any better. “It was—“

Mikayla cuts him off again. “Don’t you dare say ‘it was complicated,’” Mikayla warns. “I don’t think there’s anything complicated about you deciding I wasn’t enough after you made it to the show. There’s nothing left to talk about, Nick.”

Mikayla had spent months pretending that she hadn’t been hurt by Nick, but she was exhausted by it. The idea that the boy you fell in love with, who you thought you were going to marry, no longer wants you and will go out to find someone else, whether or not you’re still together, isn’t an easy one to accept. She’d covered up that hurt with alcohol and sex and schoolwork. It’s a lot more raw and real with Nick standing in front of her with the same resolute stare he’d had when he was breaking up with her.

“I miss you, Mikkie,” Nick says. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his hair curling out from underneath his beanie.

Mikayla almost believes him. She runs her hands through her hair. “Stop calling me that,” she says. “And don’t lie to me.”

“What, Mikkie? I’ve always called you that.”

“That was when we were dating.”

“And why do you think I’m lying?”

They’re talking over each other, voices rising in the small space. Yost is empty around them.

“Why would you break up with me if you were just going to come crawling back a few months later?” Mikayla asks. She thinks of Nolan telling her that Nick spent the fall asking about her. “Why have you been asking Nolan about me?”

Nick sighs. “I just told you. I miss you. I knew you wouldn’t want to hear from me, so instead I got to listen to Nolan tell me stories of you moving on.”

Mikayla will have to kill Nolan for that later. “I wasn’t moving on, not really,” Mikayla admits. She pushes her hair away from her face again. “I was just doing everything I could to not think about you.”

“I was trying to protect you,” Nick says. “I was going to be so far away, and traveling all the time, and you were supposed to go on to grad school next fall. I didn’t want to hold you back, and I didn’t want to make a mistake and hurt you.” Nick laughs, but it isn’t a happy sound. “I think I just made both of us miserable.”

“I spent so much time thinking that I had to prove something, that if you could handle being stupid and sleeping around, so could I,” Mikayla says.

At some point Nick has cautiously stepped closer to Mikayla. She leans back against the wall behind her, sagging with the sudden exhaustion of this conversation. She doesn’t know how long they’ve been standing here, how long KJ has been waiting outside without a coat for them to “figure their shit out.”

“Ask KJ, I was pretty bad at the whole casual hook-up thing,” Nick says.

Mikayla presses the heels of her hands to her eyes. She’d rather die than ask Kent for details of all of Nick’s hook-ups.

“I tried to kiss Moyle before Christmas,” Mikayla blurts out.

Nick is quiet. Mikayla hesitantly moves her hands from her eyes to look at him.

He’s looking at her, bewildered. Apparently that’s one thing about Mikayla’s Hot Girl Fall that Nolan didn’t tell Nick.

Mikayla continues. “He stopped me, I was drunk and confused, and he’s my best friend, but he was your best friend first, then he told me that he couldn’t because I’m your girl, even though I’m definitely fucking not, and—“ Mikayla gasps for air. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Nick steps even closer. He slowly, hesitantly, reaches for Mikayla. She lets herself be pulled in for a hug as she starts to cry. Nick rubs one of his hands in slow circles on Mikayla’s back underneath her sweatshirt, the way he used to when Mikayla was upset.

“Hey, slow down, it’s okay,” he says. “Mikkie, it’s okay.” Nick holds Mikayla until her crying subsides and her breathing evens back out. He takes a step back, but doesn’t let go of Mikayla’s arms. “What happens now?” he asks. He hesitates, but says, “I think I’m still in love with you.”

Mikayla blinks at him. She was kissing her best friend just a few weeks ago. She was trying to sleep with Moyle just a week before that. Nick’s confession doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, but it doesn’t simplify anything.

“Nick, I don’t know,” she says. “I might still love you, too, but—” Nick’s face brightens— “I think I need some time.” Nick’s face falls again.

“Why?” Nick argues. “We’ve had time, we both want this, I don’t get—” “What if I don’t want this?” Mikayla cuts in. “I don’t know what I want.” She doesn’t think she’s ever been so confused in her life.

Nick frowns at Mikayla. “But you just said—”

“I know what I just said, just—” Mikayla switches arguments. “When was the last time you slept with another girl?”

Nick looks taken aback. “I don’t know, around New Year’s?”

Not even two weeks ago.

“How am I supposed to believe you when you say you miss me while you’re still running around fucking other girls? That you’re serious? Maybe you just think you miss me because you just haven’t found the right girl?”

Nick doesn’t argue this time, face turning red.

“What am I supposed to do if we get back together and you turn around and cheat on me? When you realize you were right in the first place, that the distance is too hard and that I might not actually be the one you want?”

“When was the last time you slept with another guy?” Nick finally says. Mikayla feels like it should sting, but it’s a fair question. “What am I supposed to do here?”

“I haven’t slept with anyone since before finals,” Mikayla says. There was the failed move on Moyle, then one last kiss with Jake back in Saginaw. Those hardly count. Nick blinks at Mikayla. “I don’t know what to do, Nick, honestly. We could both stop sleeping with other people, for one thing.”

“Done,” Nick says quickly.

Mikayla narrows her eyes at Nick, suspicious. “That’s it?” she asks. “All that drama to break up with me to sleep around, and you agree to stop, just like that?”

Nick looks sheepish for the first time. “I’m telling you, I was terrible at doing casual. I kept asking them all to stay the night and shit.” There’s a pause before Nick bursts out, “What are you so afraid of?”

“You, Nick!” Mikayla almost wants to laugh, but she also feels like she might cry again. “I think…” she says slowly, “that we both need to know that this is what we want. I don’t think I want to let this go so easy, but I don’t want to get hurt again, either.”

Nick looks sad when Mikayla meets his eyes again. “Okay, yeah, yeah,” he says.

“I just want to be able to focus on my last semester, y’know?” Mikayla says.

Nick forces a smile. “Yeah, of course,” he says. “I’ll, uh, see you around, I guess?”

“Yeah, Nick, I’d like that.” It doesn’t feel like a lie when Mikayla says it.

Mikayla doesn’t know where Nick goes, but he doesn’t follow her outside, where she needs to find KJ. He’s leaning against the front doors of Yost, looking pissy and cold, even though it was his idea to go stand outside and wait for Mikayla without a coat.

He slings an arm around her shoulders and falls into step beside her when he spots her.

“You know, you could have made your point without standing out in the cold,” Mikayla points out. KJ is a cold line pressed against her left side. “You’re making me cold, now,” she complains.

“I still want ice cream,” KJ says, instead of admitting he was wrong about something. Mikayla rolls her eyes.

They end up at Blank Slate, another place she and Nick used to frequent on dates when the weather was warmer. She tries not to think about it as she follows KJ into the shop.

KJ wastes no time ordering their brown butter cookie dough ice cream, but Mikayla spends so long debating that she’s half-worried KJ is going to order plain vanilla for her out of spite. Finally, Mikayla brings her scoop of vanilla caramel blondie over to where Kent claimed a table in the empty shop. He makes a face at her, but she’s immune to KJ’s bitchiness at this point.

“Nick’s been a mess,” KJ says without preamble.

Mikayla sighs. “Not you, too, KJ,” she says. “Please, I’ve heard enough from Nolan and Nick already.”

KJ points his plastic spoon at Mikayla. It’s probably supposed to be threatening. “No, I don’t think you have, actually. You didn’t have to watch him break his ankle, be miserable about it, then force himself to go out and pick up and be more miserable about it. Do you know how pathetic he was with that fucking scooter?”

Mikayla snorts into her ice cream. “It can’t have been that bad,” Mikayla protests. Though, if Nick was half as miserable as she had been and was pretending not to be, he was probably pretty miserable.

KJ takes another bite of ice cream, says through it: “Oh, it was.” He swallows and leans across the table. “And then I text Moyle to tell him we need to fix it, only he tells me you’re out doing the same dumb shit as Nick.”

He’s close enough that Mikayla can flick him between his judgmental eyebrows. He leans back again and takes a petulant bite of ice cream.

“You and Moyle need to mind your own damn business,” Mikayla tells him. “We were both fine.”

Kent doesn’t even dignify that with a response, just raises one eyebrow. Mikayla wishes he were close enough to smack that disbelieving look off his face.

“We were fine!” Mikayla insists. It doesn’t sound any better the second time.

“So did you fix your shit?” KJ asks.

Mikayla huffs. “What does that even mean?” She ignores Kent’s eye roll. “There’s nothing to fix.”

“Wait,” KJ says slowly. “Moyle and I Parent Trapped you two for nothing? You didn’t even get back together?”

“No, we didn’t, and—have you ever even seen The Parent Trap?”

“That’s not the point,” KJ says, “I don’t get it. If you’re both miserable, why not get back together?”

“Because what if it makes us more miserable? What if it’s not actually what we want? What if we just break up again?”

“Whoa,” Kent says. “Slow down.”

Mikayla’s almost out of ice cream. She looks sadly down at her empty cup. Kent holds his half-eaten ice cream out without a word, and she takes some with her spoon.

“And what if you end up happy?” Kent asks.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? Mikayla doesn’t know the last time she was really happy. Before Nick broke up with her, probably.

They finish their ice cream in silence. Kent hugs Mikayla tightly outside Blank Slate. There’s a car idling for him nearby, Nick and whatever members of the Blue Jackets media corps had to make the trip out to Ann Arbor waiting for KJ.

“Fix your shit,” KJ says again, stepping away at last.

Mikayla rolls her eyes. “Which one of us is the freshman here?”

KJ doesn’t bother pointing out that he’s not a freshman anymore, or even a student at all, just climbs into the backseat of the car at the curb. Mikayla watches as they pull away, stays standing there long after the taillights have disappeared.

Nick, to his credit—and a little bit to Mikayla’s dismay—doesn’t reach out. Mikayla finds herself half-dreading, half-hoping for a text that never comes. As the days after seeing Nick again stretch into weeks, Mikayla stops expecting to hear from him, tries to squash down the disappointment she feels.

She throws herself into focusing for her final semester of college. She keeps her promise to Nick—no more sleeping around. She has no idea if he’s actually doing the same. There’s no time for it anyway, with a full class schedule and an internship and all the hockey games Moyle is still insisting she come to.

Mikayla feels like she blinks, and suddenly it’s April. The hockey team is heading off to the Frozen Four, and Mikayla’s in her final weeks of college. It’s all a little surreal, and more than a little dizzying.

“You’ll stay in touch, though, right?” she asks Nolan.

Nolan laughs at her on a fuzzy FaceTime call from his hotel room in Tampa. “Mikkie, baby, you should know by now that you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

That is true. “I couldn’t even get rid of you after I stopped dating your best friend.” She has to laugh, too. “Do you know what you’re gonna do after the year is over?” Mikayla asks.

She vaguely sees Nolan shrug. “Nah, I’ll figure it out.” The conversation feels loaded now, despite Nolan’s light tone. “What about you? Ready for bigger and better things?”

Mikayla had big plans, once. She had picked out the graduate school program she wanted as a freshman, had spent the last four years working towards it. She had other plans, too; ones that included a white dress and a church wedding and Nick waiting at the end of the aisle.

Grad school is still waiting for her. Mikayla has no idea if Nick is, too.

“I guess so,” Mikayla says at last. She doesn’t feel ready to be taking on the real world outside of school. Maybe it’s just delaying the inevitable, but she’s still glad to be able to push adulthood back a little further.

“Hey, Mikkie,” Nolan says, still serious. Mikayla looks away from her computer to look properly at him. “Everything’s going to work out, you know.”

Nolan always has had a knack for reading Mikayla’s anxieties. “Promise?” she asks. It comes out watery.

“Promise.”

Michigan loses in the semis again. Mikayla watches as her friends pack up and leave, onto their own futures: Luke goes to Jersey, Portillo heads out to California, Mackie ends up in Charlotte. The end of hockey season is always a whirlwind. She remembers last year, when scouts coming to games turned into Nick signing with Columbus, missing graduation and living his dream in the NHL.

Mikayla’s own cap and gown hang off the back of her closet door. The end is coming for them all, whether or not Mikayla is ready for it.

The end, when it comes, passes quietly. Mikayla passes her finals, walks in graduation. She packs up her apartment, all of the little bits of her life over the last four years, into boxes and shoves them all into the back of her car. Mikayla leaves Ann Arbor in the rearview mirror as she drives north to Saginaw for the summer.

Mikayla’s only been back in Saginaw a few weeks when she hears from Nick at last. The dog barks at the door once, before she switches to whole body wiggles—Mikayla knows who she’s going to see before she even heads to open the front door.

Nick is standing awkwardly on the front porch, hands in his pockets, when Mikayla swings the door open. The dog squeezes past Mikayla to say hi to Nick, sitting squarely on one of his feet.

“Traitor,” Mikayla says. To Nick, she says, “Hey.”

Nick looks up from rubbing behind the dog’s ears to grin sheepishly at Mikayla. “Hey, uh—“

“What would you have done if I hadn’t been home?” Mikayla asks, teasing.

Nick flushes. “I, uh, didn’t think that far ahead,” he admits. “But you’re here, so it doesn’t matter,” he points out.

Mikayla laughs. “You got in your car, drove an hour and a half, but didn’t think about what would happen when you got here?”

Nick makes a face. “I did have a plan, I just—“ he breaks off without finishing. “Can we talk?”

It would be mean to tell him no after he drove all the way to Mikayla’s parents’ house to see her. Besides, she’s been waiting anxiously for this moment since she last saw Nick in January.

“Of course,” she says. She looks down at her dog, still sitting happily on Nick’s foot.

“Walk with me?” Nick asks. They both watch as the dog’s ears go up excitedly.

Mikayla rolls her eyes but reaches back inside to grab her leash off the hook by the door. “Now why would you say the w-word?” she complains. She tosses the leash at Nick, lets him hook it onto her dog’s collar with practiced ease—despite the continued wiggles. Mikayla pulls the front door shut behind her and steps out onto the porch beside Nick.

She almost wishes Nick had asked if he could come inside. This conversation might be easier without the eyes of the neighborhood on them, in the safety of Mikayla’s home. But she’s also grateful to not be confined to the living room. The early summer breeze lifts Mikayla’s hair off the back of her neck, cools the anxious sweat there.

They start off down the sidewalk together—Nick’s still holding the leash. Mikayla wonders if he’s thought about getting a dog since moving to Columbus. That was another thing they’d talked about for the future together—getting a puppy as soon as they’d both graduated.

Nick stops suddenly as they approach his car, parked on the street in front of the house. He quickly hands Mikayla the leash, fishing in his pockets for something.

“Hang on, I have to—“ He opens the passenger door and grabs a battered notebook off the floor of the footwell. “Okay, we can—“ He starts walking down the street without finishing his sentence.

Mikayla half-jogs to keep up with him. “Nick? I don’t think you’ve said a full sentence since you got here,” she says.

Nick runs a hand over his still-regretfully buzzed hair. Mikayla needs to remember to make fun of him for it later. “Sorry, just—I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous for something,” he says.

Mikayla scoffs, nudges Nick in the ribs with her elbow. He leans into it instead of letting her bully him off the curb. “Whatever, you literally play in the NHL.”

“No hockey game is as important as you,” Nick says seriously.

Mikayla has to force her feet to keep moving so she doesn’t stop and gape at Nick in the middle of the sidewalk.

He’s running his finger nervously along the bent metal spiral holding together the notebook in his hands. Mikayla stares at it, the way his thumb turns white as he presses hard into the sharp end of the spiral. The notebook feels familiar, blue cardboard cover worn and covered in Nick’s handwriting. She wants to tear it out of his hands, but she waits.

Nick continues talking. “Do you remember when we met?”

Mikayla has to blink at him for a moment, trying to get past the dissonance of his last two statements. “Well, yeah,” she says. “Of course.”

They’d been in the same elective course together. It was Mikayla’s freshman year, Nick’s sophomore year. Mikayla had never noticed Nick in class before, but she slid into the seat next to him at a study group session organized by one of their classmates, a few weeks into the semester.

They’d talked for over an hour, about the class, about Michigan. When they were finally forced to pack up and leave the library study room, Nick had stood up and Mikayla had blurted: “Oh.”

“Oh?” Nick had echoed. Mikayla was standing, too, face to face with Nick for the first time. Close enough to clearly see the narrow scar in his eyebrow, watch it move as he raises his eyebrows at her, clearly amused.

“You’re not as tall as I thought you were,” Mikayla had admitted. It doesn’t make much sense when she says it out loud like that.

Nick had bumped into her playfully as they made their way outside. “And how tall did you think I was?” he had teased.

Mikayla huffed at him. “I don’t know, forget I said anything.” But Nick fell into step beside her as she headed back to her dorm, and she dared to ask a stupid question. “How tall are you, anyway?”

“5’8” and some change,” Nick had told her. He burst into laughter when Mikayla had pursed her lips, trying hard not to say anything else out of pocket. “What?” he asked.

“Not very much change, though,” she had said, which just made Nick laugh harder.

He had asked her out after class two weeks after that day.

“Your NHL stats lie about your height,” Mikayla points out. Not that she looked, or anything.

It makes Nick laugh, the same way teasing him about his height always did. Mikayla had always been the only person he would tolerate the jokes from.

“I’m almost 5’9”!” Nick protests.

“Almost is not the same thing, Nicholas!”

“You know, I think I started to fall in love with you from that very first time we met,” Nick says.

Mikayla’s left dumbfounded once again. “Be serious.”

Nick chuckles wryly. “Why do you always think I’m lying to you lately?”

“I just don’t know what to believe anymore,” Mikayla sighs. “You keep talking about missing me and how long you’ve loved me, but that doesn’t make any sense with the way you broke up with me. You can’t love someone like that and then dump them just so you don’t end up cheating on them.”

Nick’s quiet for a moment. Their hands brush as they walk side by side on the narrow sidewalk. Nick’s still holding that battered blue notebook; Mikayla has no idea why. “Okay, that was a shitty way to end things, and it was shitty of me in general, but I’ve regretted it every moment since then, I need you to believe me on that.”

“And if I do? What then?” Mikayla asks.

Nick starts fidgeting with that notebook again. He runs a finger along the edge of the pages now, fanning them a little. Mikayla watches him, lets him collect his thoughts.

“Long distance goes both ways, you know?” Nick says.

“I—what?”

Nick continues as if Mikayla hadn’t said anything. “I think I thought I was protecting you, I guess? Like, it wouldn’t be fair to you to be stuck with a boyfriend 300 miles away. I didn’t want you to miss out on things because you were still with a guy you only saw a couple of times a year.”

“That’s stupid,” Mikayla announces. It catches Nick off-guard, and he laughs a little. “When did I ever complain about being long-distance?” she asks. She doesn’t wait for an answer. “And I definitely missed out on so much in the years we were together, like the awkwardness of going to class three times a week with a guy you hooked up with a couple of times, or seeing someone you fucked at a party around campus and realizing you don’t even know their name.

“Nick, I never cared about the distance. I was so proud of you, and I loved you so much. I didn’t realize that wasn’t enough.”

“It should have been. I already told you, it was shitty, and it was stupid, Mikkie. I’m trying to fix it now, though.”

“What is that?” Mikayla asks, curiosity finally getting the better of her. She points to the notebook.

Nick looks down at the notebook in his hands like he’s seeing it for the first time. “Oh, uh. It’s a notebook,” he says dumbly. Mikayla wants to smack him. “When we were together, I used to write about you.”

That’s why the notebook seemed so familiar. Mikayla had seen it before: amongst the clutter of Nick’s desk, mixed in with his other books in his backpack, on the floor of her own bedroom when Nick stayed over. She’d never once stopped to wonder what was inside of it.

Nick’s still talking. “It’s not, like, poetry, or anything, but sometimes when I was thinking about you, or when you’d done something that had made me laugh or really realize that I loved you, I’d write it down.”

“And you kept it?” Mikayla asks.

“I had to dig it out of some box in my old bedroom after I saw you in Ann Arbor in January, but yeah. I, um…” Nick trails off. “I started writing in it again, after that. Just whenever I missed you or something, I’d write it down. I didn’t think I was going to show it to you, though, until I got here.”

They’ve been walking for a while now. They should probably head back, but the sun is warm on Mikayla’s face, and she’s starting to feel something like hope in her chest for the first time in months.

“You haven’t shown me anything,” Mikayla points out, gentle. It’s meant to be teasing, and she thinks Nick gets it. He sighs, long and dramatic. Mikayla thinks he’s only half-serious, but she still says, “Nick, you don’t have to, I believe you.”

And she does. When she thinks about it, she’s seen Nick writing in that notebook over the years. He always closed it when she approached, but Nick had always liked to give Mikayla his full attention. She’d never spared a second thought to the notebook’s contents.

Nick takes the leash from Mikayla at the same time he passes her the notebook. Their fingers brush as Mikayla takes it carefully from him. In her hands, the notebook looks even worse for wear, dangerously close to falling apart, years and years of use showing in its bent edges.

Mikayla begins to leaf through it slowly. There’s a chunk of pages clumsily torn out of the beginning of the notebook—probably old class notes. The first page left only has a couple of lines, scrawled in Nick’s messy handwriting: met a great girl today gonna ask her out. Then, a few pages later, in the margins of another page of class notes: think I could spend forever with Mikayla.

Mikayla continues flipping pages. The older pages are more faded, stained with coffee or water rings. Occasionally a page will be dated, but the pages about her are mostly random, a few sentences here, a paragraph there. She can tell when she gets to the newer entries, and not just by the crisp pages. Nick started writing the date at the top of each page, and Mikayla skims through January, into February, March, April. The pages stop abruptly in the end of April, right around the end of hockey season and Mikayla graduating.

That reminds Mikayla: “Sucks that you missed the end of the season with your ankle,” she says.

If Nick thinks it’s a non-sequitur, he doesn’t show it, just responds, “Eh, it’s whatever. Not like I was playing groundbreaking hockey to begin with.”

Mikayla stops short. “Hang on, no.” Nick stops a few steps ahead of her. He looks over his shoulder, confused. “You didn’t get promoted to top d-pair for playing shitty hockey, Nick.”

Nick grins. “You were paying attention?”

Shit. “Uh,” Mikayla says. It’s way too late to lie. “Maybe a little.” She doesn’t know why she never unfollowed the Blue Jackets on social media, but she’d only stopped scrolling past all of their posts after seeing Nick in January. “Maybe I was just keeping up with KJ.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him,” Nick says. He’s still grinning when he reaches out a hand to Mikayla. “C’mon.”

Mikayla carefully places her hand in Nick’s. He doesn’t let go, even once she’s caught up and they’ve fallen into step together again.

“It also means I can see your fucking terrible hair decisions as soon as you make them,” Mikayla says. She’d dropped her phone on her face the first time the Blue Jackets posted the buzz cut.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Nick complains. He lets go of Mikayla’s hand to run a hand over the shorn strands again. Mikayla snatches at his hand when he lets it rest back at his side.

Mikayla huffs. “Everything!” Nick shoots her an amused look. It only makes Mikayla bolder, like nothing has ever changed between them. “Your hair looked so good, and then you fucking buzzed it! And not even well!” Nick’s laughing openly at Mikayla now. She’s not finished. “It’s prickly, and uneven, and you look like a damn hedgehog.” Nick has to stop walking so he can double over in laughter. “Nick,” Mikayla whines.

“I guess you’d prefer the mullet, then?” he asks when he finally stops laughing.

“Yes.” Mikayla actually kind of enjoyed the playoff mullet each year. “I always liked the mullets.”

They’ve somehow managed to make it back to Mikayla’s street. She stops at the foot of the driveway, not ready for this conversation to be over. She’s still clutching Nick’s notebook, and she pulls it close to her chest.

“I know you did,” Nick says, suddenly serious. He’s still holding onto Mikayla’s hand, and he uses it to tug her close. He presses a quick kiss to her temple. “I’ve really missed you, Mikkie,” Nick whispers into her hair.

Mikayla closes her eyes, counts to three. She knows what’s coming. She might finally know the right answer to what Nick’s going to ask.

“I miss you, Nick,” she says.

It’s been building, the certainty that she still loves Nick enough to give it all a second chance, but this moment, a walk in the sunshine, teasing each other, is what really cemented how much she missed Nick in her life.

Nick looks hopeful when Mikayla opens her eyes again.

“Yeah?” he says softly. He steps closer, slides a hand around Mikayla’s hip. She lets him, likes the way his hand fits there, warm against her skin. “Do you wanna do this? For real?”

Mikayla nods, no hesitation. She watches as the grin spreads across Nick’s face.

“I’ve missed that smile,” Mikayla says, and then Nick’s kissing her so hard he nearly knocks her off balance. Mikayla drops the notebook and Nick drops the leash—the dog has laid down in protest of her walk ending, anyway—so she can wrap her arms around Nick’s neck and pull him closer.

Nick pulls away for breath first, but he doesn’t go far, pressing his forehead to Mikayla’s.

“Do you want to come inside?” Mikayla asks.

There’s time to talk about what this means, to talk about the future. That can wait. What’s important right now is Nick, here in Mikayla’s arms.

“I’d love to,” Nick says.

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fiapartridge · 1 year ago

Note

🥥 adam fantilli again bc tay and adam are my 2 fav things!!!!!!

STOP ADAM AND TAY R SUCH A POWERFUL COMBO AND HE IS SOOOOO YOU BELONG WITH ME CODED LIKE IK ITS SO BASIC but it's the cutest song ever and he's the cutest

and this was actually so fucking cute to write UGH I LOVEDDD THIS

His head rested on your lap, your hands raking through his hair as he vented to you about the events that took place earlier that night. “And then she said I didn't care about her. I- I mean, I didn’t mean to make her feel that way. I just–”

“Wait, so just let me get this straight. She told you to buy her a $2,000 dress, and you said no because you couldn’t afford it—understandably—and she got mad at you? I mean, Adam—”

“You’re making her seem like she’s a bad person,” he said, sitting up and taking the spot across from you on your tiny twin sized bed. You two sat in your dorm room, doing your daily talk about what Katerina, Adam’s girlfriend, did this time. And it hurt knowing that the guy you have been in love with your entire life is in love with someone else, but he was your best friend, you had no choice but to stand back and support him.

You met Adam when you were 14 when he joined his brother at Kimball Union Academy in New Hampshire. You were initially friends with Luca having met him in the library at school. He was struggling with math and every time you heard him get an equation wrong on those flimsy little flashcards, you cringed a little. So, taking it upon yourself (you were quite the confident 14-year-old), you sat down next to him, outstretched your hand, introduced yourself as his new tutor, and shooed away the poor kid who desperately thanked you for getting him out of that.

After a year of tutoring Luca, you two became inseparable, and when you heard that his younger brother was coming to play hockey for the school, you knew you had to meet him. And, most of the time, you were glad that you did, except for nights like these.

You laughed incredulously. “Adam, she got mad at you for not being able to afford an expensive dress. She’s not really the best person.”

“She might not be the best all the time—”

You scoffed, grabbing his hands and holding them in yours as you stared at him intently. “You deserve someone who is the best all the time; someone who genuinely makes you happy; who doesn’t leave you like this every single night.” You deserve me, you wanted to say, but you clamped your lips shut before your true feelings could ever manage to escape.

Huffing and dismissing your words, he pushed you to the side, laying down on the small space beside you. His hands resting behind his head, he stared at the ceiling as you kept your arms secured to your sides. Sometimes you were scared to get too close to him, afraid of what you might do in a fit of spontaneity, scared that you could ruin your entire friendship in one heated moment.

“This whole girlfriend thing is so complicated,” he murmured absentmindedly before turning to the side, facing you. “Still up for the marriage at 30 rule?”

You shook your head, breathing out a laugh. “You wanna say that when you have a girlfriend right now?”

Adam shrugged. “Just taking extra precautions.”

Rolling your eyes, you spun onto your side, looking at him dead-on. “What if I end up in a relationship and you don’t?”

“Then I’ll ruin his fucking life,” he replied, a small smile dancing on his lips. You knew he was joking, but sometimes you wished he wasn’t. You wished he saw a life where you could be the one he marries, a life where he could be happy with you, not just as an extra precaution, but because he really wanted to.

“Will Kat be at the game tomorrow?” you asked randomly, as if the question just morphed itself out of thin air. She was never there. She was always busy with something: shopping with the girls, working out with a classmate, practicing cheer drills. You were so convinced that she has never even seen Adam in his hockey gear.

You were there every game, cheering him on from the student section, pretending not to catch the disappointed expression on his face every time he realized she wasn’t there—again.

And just like time and time before, Adam with his ever present hopeful spirit, sighed and said, “Hope so.”

—

They were up 4-1.

The children of Yost screamed so loud, you were sure that the top of the building could fly off at any minute. And just as Rutger Mcgroarty scored the last and final game-winning goal, making the score 5-1, the crowd burst into another set of chants as you watched the boys jump each other on the ice. Everyone looked so happy, and for the first time, that happiness included Adam.

You waited in the lobby, ready to congratulate him and the rest of the team on the win, like you do every game. Truth be told, you loved seeing a freshly showered Adam, high off a well-deserved win. And expecting to have to find his tall figure in the crowd of students, you jumped back as he found you immediately.

The lobby was crowded, excited conversations filing into the room, leaving Adam to shout in your direction. “I saw you out there!”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You see me every time!”

He smiled, his brows furrowing simultaneously as if realizing something. In mere seconds, he grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the exit. You wanted to protest, to tell him that you had to congratulate the rest of the boys, especially Luca, but Adam was holding your hand and it felt so perfect. It felt like this was your life. Adam holding your hand, pulling you to secluded spaces, spaces meant just for the two of you. It felt like it was meant to be, like you were made for this; for him.

You guys rounded the side of the building, your arms hugging your body as the snow slowly rained down on you two. The lights outside flickered dimly, but you saw his smile, and you didn’t care about anything but him. In your mind, it was just Adam, Adam, Adam.

“It’s so easy with you,” is the first thing he said. You pulled your brows together, confused as to what he meant by that. Noticing your expression, he went on. “I mean, tell me the last time you missed one of my games.”

You scoffed. “You are a conceited little shit, aren’t you?”

He shook his head, huffing out a laugh. “C’mon, just tell me.”

You racked your brain, trying to think back to the last time you missed one. And then, as if a lightbulb lit in your brain, you finally remembered. You think he remembered too. “We were 16, you were playing for the Chicago Steel, and I was dying from swine flu because your ass decided to make me a grilled cheese with expired butter.”

“Okay, okay!” He held his hands up in defense. “I did rush to your aid after the game, though.”

“Yeah, and you agreed to get me a wet towel if I watched an hour of your game highlights,” you retorted, the conversation replacing the chills in your body with warm, happy memories.

He stuffed his cold hands in his pockets, shrugging. “Well, my point is!” he said, sending you into a fit of laughter.

“You are so stupid!”

“And that was so uncalled for!” he chuckled, tilting his head down at you. You looked like some sort of snow princess with the white flakes delicately landing on your hair. Your cute nose was red and he watched you shiver as he slipped his arms around your torso, pulling you to his chest as your arms instinctively wrapped around him. It was foreign for the two of you to be hugging, but this one felt different.

“My point is,” he restarted. “you have been to almost all of my games.”

You nodded in response, wondering where this was going. And you were even more curious when he said, “What’s my favorite color?”

With no hesitation, you responded with, “Blue.”

“Where was I born?”

“Are you really making me do an Adam Fantilli quiz? I mean, I knew your ego was high, but—”

“C’mon,” he laughed, resting his chin on your head.

You smiled. “Nobleton.”

“My real name?”

“Adamo,” you answered before taking a step back from his grasp. “She didn’t know that?”

He shrugged. “She didn’t know anything about me—not like you do.”

You sighed. You didn’t want to do this while he was with Kat. While you didn’t like her, it felt wrong to think about him like this when you felt that, maybe just maybe, he might be thinking about you in the same way. “Adam—”

“I broke up with her last night when I left your dorm.”

Your head raised, meeting his gentle gaze. You were shocked. He liked her so much, I mean, he was defending her the entire night. What happened?

Holding your hands, just as you hand done to him the night before, he took a step closer as you felt the heat radiate off of him and onto you. “You told me I deserve someone who makes me happy. I deserve someone who won’t miss a single game unless I food poisoned her, who knows me—not just surface level me—who doesn’t make me feel bad about anything. I’m convinced I have never felt bad when I’m with you. You belong with me, Y/N, and... I have only ever belonged to you."

#> fias 600 celly! ★#adam fantilli blurb #adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli fluff #columbus blue jackets #adam fantilli #taylor swift #hockey imagines #university of michigan #umich hockey

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drewsbuzzcut · 2 years ago

Text

Times You Were “Just Friends”

(…But It Progressively Gets Worse)

Kent Johnson x f!reader (3.8k words!!!)

Warnings: some curse words, alcohol consumption, mentions sex and alludes to sex, kissing, giving hickeys and i think that’s it

Friends spend days on days together when they just meet, right?

You and Kent met during his last year at umich. He was in one of your electives, and the seat next to him was the only one available. There was a sort of connection immediately. You both kept stealing glances at one another, quickly looking away when the other would turn to look. His eyes were glued to you as you were concentrating on taking notes. You’d blush under the intensity of his stare, and he’d smile at the color in your cheeks. It’s the prettiest shade of maroon he’s ever seen. From that first day, you two have been inseparable. Kent easily got your number after stating it was always in good interest to exchange numbers with someone in your class to study or talk about work, but he really just wanted any excuse to talk to you. It led to multiple conversations in coffee shops, late night dinners at the dining hall, and a strong bond between the two of you. Only as friends, of course.

“I’m heading out, probably won’t be back till late so don’t wait up,” you tell your roommate and best friend.

“Seeing Kent?” She asks, a knowing smirk taking over her face. She knows there has to be something going on between the two of you.

“Maybe,” you mutter, not making eye contact.

“You guys have been hanging out a lot. When’s he going to ask you out?”

“We’re just friends,” you groan.

“Y’all are not just friends! Not when you hang out during every moment of free time y’all have. I’ve also seen the way you both look at each other. Something is going on,” she exclaims.

You shake your head, bidding goodbye and blowing her a quick kiss, wanting to escape her thoughts as soon as possible. You were just friends.

“Finally, you’re here!” Kent cheers, pulling you into his arms and into the house. His long arms wrap around your shoulders and yours wrap around his waist. He holds you tightly, and you smile up at him.

“Sorry,I took the long way to get here. Did you pick the movie?”

“Yes! I also ordered your favorite pizza.”

“You’re amazing. Carry me to your room? My legs hurt,” you say.

He doesn’t say anything else, just tosses you over his shoulder and takes you to his room, ready for your movie night.

Friends use pet names, right?

It took a lot of convincing and bribing on Kent’s behalf to get you right where you are right now. Seated in a movie theater, watching a scary movie. You hate scary movies, but Kent really wanted you to join him.

You’re almost 45 minutes into the movie, and you’re jumping at every little jump scare displayed on the large screen. At the moment, you’re crowded into KJ’s space, covering your ears, and practically shaking with nerves.

“Are you scared?” He asks nonchalantly.

You cast a glare in his direction, though you’re not sure he can actually see it in the dark room. You sit up straight, feigning frustration. You cross your arms over your chest and stare straight, ignoring his slightly worried glances.

“Don’t be scared, baby,” He whispers against the shell of your ear, and you have to fight off the chill threatening to come over your body. It’s the first time he’s ever used a pet name with you, and you hate to admit that you like it.

“I wouldn’t be scared if you just held me,” you mutter.

He lifts up the armrest between the both of you, guiding your body to lean against his. Soon enough, you’re wrapped in his arms, warmth, and smell. You could honestly fall asleep.

“I’m your baby?” You ask, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“You’re my baby,” he reaffirms, kissing your forehead and redirecting his attention back into the screen.

You smile shyly and relish in his affection, not so scared anymore.

Friends let themselves into each other’s apartments, right?

“Are you in class? There’s a surprise here waiting for you. I don’t know what it is or who it’s from,” your best friend says through the phone, looking at a sleeping Kent on your bed. She has a little smile, knowing that when you see him you’ll melt.

“I just got out. About 5 minutes away. How did it get into the apartment?” You ask confused.

“I brought it in,” she continued her lie, not trying to give anything away.

“Be there soon,” you say, hanging up and rushing over to your apartment.

When you get in, you rush to your room only to find Kent spread out on your bed, dead asleep. You smuggle the laugh bubbling out of you, melting at the sight of a large hockey player cuddled up in your bed, surrounded by pink sheets, soft blankets, and a few plushies.

“I thought you said you didn’t know what it was?” You turn to ask your best friend.

“Surprise!” She says in a whisper shout.

You turn back around, setting your belongings on the floor before crawling on your bed. You move slowly to not wake the man, swiftly resting part of your body on top of his. You feel his hand subconsciously rest on the small of your back. You card your fingers through his hair, pecking his cheek a few times. It results in a small, sleepy smile. Kent wakes up, stretching and readjusting himself so that his head rests on your chest.

“Hi, baby,” he mutters, lips moving across your collarbones.

“Hi. I didn’t know you were coming over,” you whisper.

“Came over to cuddle, but forgot you had a class. Practice was rough today,” he explains, cuddling deeper into you.

“I’m here now,” you say, completely unaware of your best friend snapping pictures of you two, being “just friends.”

Friends get handsy, right?

You and Kent are hanging out at a party someone was throwing off campus, but you’ve both have been doing your own thing the whole night. He’s been with his teammates and friends while you’ve been talking to this group of girls. As the night starts to dwindle down, you realize that you haven’t seen him for a while, so you go searching for him.

You find him at the kitchen island, a beer in his hand and a bright smile on his face. You adore his smile.

“Hey, I missed you,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind, giggling at the look of shock on his face from not expecting anyone to pop out of nowhere.

“Jeez, you scared me,” he says with a small laugh.

“Sorry,” you apologize.

He brings you around so that you’re in front of him, hands landing on your waist.

“You’re beautiful,” he compliments.

You smile at him, still getting used to the frequent compliments from your friend. You just trace the outline of your favorite features of his. Starting at his nose and tracing his lips all the way down to the sharp edges of his jaw.

You both stare at each other in silence, despite everyone who is still around you both, talking and singing to whatever song is playing.

“Y/n!” You snap out of your haze, turning around to see one of the hockey girlfriends. You quickly embrace her in a hug and make small talk. As you continue talking, you feel KJ’s hand wrap around your stomach, pulling your body closer to his, so that you’re standing between his legs. Without thinking about it, your hand rests over his, intertwining together while you move to sit in his lap.

You don’t notice the knowing glances from everyone, because friends can sit on each other’s laps, right?

Friends sleep in the same bed together, right?

“Is it okay if I take off my shirt?” Kent asks, cheeks burning red.

“Well I’m not sleeping in your bed if you’re going to be wearing a shirt,” you tease, throwing one of his pillows at him.

He charges at you, gathering you in his arms and throwing you on the bed. He smiles wide at the sweet sound of your laughter. Wanting to continue to hear the sound, he starts tickling your stomach.

“KJ!!! Stop! Stop!,” you yell while also laughing.

“Are you guys having sex?” You hear from behind KJ’s bedroom door.

You whip the door open, eyes wide and ready to hurl something at Ethan as he stands there with a smirk.

“Does it look like we’re having sex?” You ask unamused.

“No but it kinda sounds like it.”

Before you can go at Ethan, Kent appears behind you, hand wrapping around your stomach to pull you into his body.

“We’re going to sleep, goodnight,” KJ says, pulling you towards the bed after closing his room door.

“Can I wear your shirt?” You dangle his discarded shirt in between two fingers.

“You better wear my shirt, or you’re sleeping on the floor,” he says playfully.

You fake laugh and mock his words, walking to the restroom to get changed.

“Woah, gimme a 360. You’re a smoke show,” he shouts.

“Shushhh…they’re going to think we’re fucking,” you jump on the bed, crawling your way up to where he’s laying. You rest your chin on his chest, letting your leg rest over both of his.

“I’m not opposed,” he jokes and you quickly cover his mouth with your hand.

“Goodnight you goof,” you giggle, turn off the light and cuddle right into his warm body.

“Goodnight, beautiful girl,” he says, kissing your forehead and rubbing your back.

Friends kiss, right?

“Thank you for rescuing me, although I don’t think I’ll survive the embarrassment that I’ll no doubt be feeling for the rest of my life,” you exaggerate.

You had a date tonight, but he stood you up . You ended up calling Kent and he was quick to pick you up.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. If anything that guy should be embarrassed, he’s totally missing out,” he states, grasping your hand in his and caressing your knuckles with his thumb.

“I just want to experience a perfect date, you know. I want to be walked to my front door and be kissed like he’s been waiting to kiss me the entire night,” you pout, not realizing that you’ve already arrived at your apartment.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Of course I trust you, KJ,” you answer back.

He pulls you into a hug, his head resting in the crook of your neck. You rub his back, cuddling a little closer because it’s freezing out. He notices your shivering and he cups your cheek, swiping your cold bitten skin. Your eyes are connected, staring so deeply into each other’s. You see the moment his eyes stare at your lips. You feel time freeze. You can hear your blood pumping in your ears and everything just disappears. His lips are on yours. The slight chapped skin of his lips pairs so well with your smooth ones. Kent has to resist the urge to moan when he tastes your cherry chapstick. Your heart is practically beating out of your chest and you know that when you separate, your lips will ache to be back on his. Friends can share platonic kisses, you’re sure of it. Your lips are puffy and scarlet when you both pull away. You look alluring, as you always do.

Kent stares at you with wide eyes, not really believing that he was brave enough to follow through with his plan. You grab ahold of his jacket, pulling his lips back to yours. You throw your arms around his neck and he lets his fingers tangle in your hair. Your kiss gets interrupted by your giggles. You pull away and rest your forehead over his heart.

“Do you feel like having a sleepover?” You ask with a shy smile.

“You mean I get to sleep in your comfortable as fuck bed? Hell yeah!” He lifts you in his arms and grabs your key to unlock the door, beyond ready for a sleepover.

Friends wear each other’s initials, right?

“Open my gift first,” Kent says, handing you a small, perfectly wrapped box.

You both decided to exchange only one gift the day before you both went home for the holidays. You were actually really nervous about getting him a gift, not wanting to pick something so sentimental, but also not wanting to pick something out that held no meaning. You were friends, it shouldn’t have been too hard.

“Any hints?” You ask, teasingly while shaking the box to see if you could hear what it could be.

“No, just open it and see.”

You unwrap the box, removing the lid to see the most precious necklace sparkling. It was a simple “K” pendant attached to a simple, silver chain. You trace the letter, repeatedly blinking, trying to process this moment. You feel your eyes tear up, but you don’t allow any tears to fall. Your heart is beating so fast, there’s no way a present should have this effect on you.

“Do you like it? It’s totally fine if you don’t. We can always exchange it for something else,” Kent rambles.

Before he can say anything else, you pull him into you. Your arms thrown around his shoulders and your face resting in his neck. His hands land on their rightful spot, the small of your back, holding you close, so afraid of you not liking his gift. You lean up closer to his face, attaching your lips to his. You move your hands to rest on the back of his neck to play with the hair there to soothe him. You feel his body melt into yours.

“Baby, I absolutely love it. It’s so beautiful,” you whisper against his lips, feeling that familiar, overwhelming wave of happiness when he smiles into your kiss.

“Really?” He asks bashfully, looking down.

“Yes, I love it so much,” you respond, hands on his cheeks so that he’s looking into your eyes.

“Can you put it on for me?” He nods, turning you around and clipping the necklace on for you.

“Looks beautiful,” he says, tracing the letter and your collarbones. You shiver at his touch.

“I’m never taking it off,” you admit, leaning in for another short kiss.

Friends fall in love, right?

The day had been fun-filled with endless activities.

During spring break, Kent thought it’d be a good idea for you to meet his family, as he was going back home for a family member’s wedding, and of course you weren’t going to deny him. It was so much fun and you found that you really enjoy being around his family. They brought you in so easily and made you feel like you belong right off the bat.

Today is the wedding, the reason why you met his family in the first place. You and KJ attend all the familial outings for the day. Early morning breakfast, a midafternoon game of golf, and now roaming around the wedding venue before the ceremony starts. You’re dressed in a simple, pink slip dress, and Kent is dressed in a nice, navy blue suit with a matching pink pocket square.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers to you, tucking a strand of your curled hair behind your ear.

You’re standing in the venue’s beautiful garden. It’s one of the most beautiful places you’ve ever seen.

“You flatter me too much,” you say, hand resting over his heart. You hope your blush does a good job at covering the natural blush caused by his words. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his compliments.

“It’s true, though,” he states, pulling you into his arms. Your chin rests on his shoulders as your high heels give you somewhat of a boost. His hands rest on the small of your back, stroking the thin material of your dress.

“You’re the most beautiful person here,” he adds.

You gasp in fake shock.

“But your cousin is the bride,” you say, finally looking into his eyes.

He rolls his eyes playfully, tickling your sides so that you press yourself into his chest.

“Like I said, the most beautiful person here. In the world, actually,” he finishes, kissing your temple.

“Better keep the pda to a limit, or your family’s going to think we’re more than friends,” you tease, tugging on his hair.

“Let them think what they want,” he muses, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“C’mon, we need to head inside, the ceremony is about to start,” you say, hand falling into his hand to guide him inside.

The ceremony is beautiful, everything decorated in nice colors and patterns. It’s something out of a magazine.

You and Kent sit in your seats, eating, chatting, and watching as the newlyweds dance together. The time passes by so quickly, you almost forget that you haven’t danced with the one person you’ve been wanting to dance with the whole night. However, your attention gets drawn to the man when you feel him intertwine your fingers together.

“Want to dance?”

“Yes,” you agree without a second thought.

You both allow the music to guide your bodies in every direction on the dance floor, tuning out every stare and whisper being directed at you. You know there are people wondering about the state of your relationship with Kent, but you’re both just really good friends.

“I’m going to miss you,” you hear him whisper.

You know what he’s talking about, and you wish you could ignore it. Soon he’ll be leaving to Ohio to join the bluejackets. You’re proud of him, but you also don’t want to be without him.

“I’m going to miss you more. Who’s going to be my napping buddy? Who’s going to make sure I eat when I’m stressed? Who’s going to spend endless hours with me when we have nothing better to do? Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to pull away from his embrace. You didn’t need to cry in front of him.

“Where are you going?”

“Restroom.”

“Please stay. You can cry in front of me. I don’t care,” he holds onto you tighter, leaning his head down to press kisses into your neck.

“Want to head to the hotel?” He asks, referring to the hotel room he booked for the two of you.

Once you nod your head, he’s pulling you outside to wait for your uber. The whole ride is silent and thick with tension. He knows your disposition when you’re sad. You start to shut down and crowd into yourself as a way of protection. He wants nothing more than to comfort you, but he doesn’t want you to pull away completely.

You hightail it to the hotel room, bursting through the door and kicking off your shoes. You fight with the zipper of your dress, on the brink of a breakdown when you can’t reach the zipper. You turn to see Kent watching you in concern.

“Can you please unzip me?” You ask, voice so fragile.

He takes the zipper between his fingers, slowly lowering it while also letting his cold hands graze your bare back. He moves your hair to rest over your shoulder, bending down to place kisses on the back of your neck. Your breathing becomes labored and you feel your hands twitching, wanting to reach out for him. You feel his teeth nip at your skin which then gets soothed by his tongue. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he starts to suck on the one sweet spot. He moves to kiss on the tops of your shoulders, also sucking to make your blood rush to the surface of your skin. Tossing your head back, you let out a sigh, one of your hands reaching back to grab onto him. When he’s done and there’s a red bruise appearing on your flesh, you turn in his hold. You pull off his jacket and quickly unbutton his button up. You pull on his belt, so that his body leans into yours and you both fall onto the bed, your lips locking.

He moves his body to rest in between your legs, his hands pressed into the bed above your head to hold himself over you. You trace the contour of his abs, lingering around the few bruises and scars that litter his skin from playing hockey. You grab the back of his neck, pulling him flush against you, and kissing him again. You let your hands wander the expanse of his back, enjoying the way his muscles flex under his skin.

The next morning, you’re waking up to Kent gliding his fingers along your back, your skin breaking out in goosebumps. His arm is snuggled underneath your head and is probably asleep and sore, but it’s comfortable for you.

“Are you awake?” He breaks the silence, fingers stilling and tension replacing the overall serene atmosphere.

Instead of responding, you turn in his arms to face him. The arm you were sleeping on now rests on the small of your back. He moves the hair away from your face, letting his eyes take you in. The sparkling “K” necklace rests perfectly in the dip of your collarbones. Collarbones that are littered with love bites. He closes his eyes, picturing the way your body arched into his when he made you his own, and the way your breathy moans are the most heavenly sounds. You see his lips turn up into a smile, you smile in return.

“You’re my best friend,” he says, staring deeply into your eyes.

You can feel your smile dim. “Best friend,” you forgot that that’s all that you are. His best friend. After so long of telling everyone, including yourself, that you were just friends, this time hurts the most.

His thumb swipes over your cheek and then swipes over your bottom lip.

“You’re my best friend and I love you so much,” he declares, resting his forehead on yours.

Your heart starts beating faster and suddenly you want to cry. It’s your turn to let your hands rub along his shoulders and back. Your eyes are still closed, convinced that this is all some insane dream. Because you don’t tell your friends that you love them, not the way Kent said it so tenderly and so sincerely. He’s just as in love with you as you are in love with him.

Your sniffles alarm him, making his head shoot up to look at you.

“It’s totally fine if you don’t feel the same. I probably shouldn’t have sprung this on you so suddenly,” he rambles, starting to choke up.

You shake your head, but he continues rambling, so you do the only thing you can do and quiet him with a kiss. You repeatedly peck his lips and all over his jaw and neck.

“I love you. God, I’m so in love with you,” you proclaim.

“But… How are we going to make this work? You’re leaving soon,” you mutter.

“Distance doesn’t matter, not when it comes to us. You’re my baby. I love you and I’m not letting you go. We’re going to be fine. It’ll all work out,” he swears and you believe him.

a/n: I had a lot of fun making this one, so I hope you all enjoy!!!

#kent johnson #kent johnson x reader #kent johnson imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #columbus blue jackets

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