#Jack Hughes romance | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tkwrites · 7 months ago

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Understanding (or the one in which Jack Hughes is forced to get over himself) - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Summary: Still upset about finding out about Sarah from Brady, Jack has some hesitations when he and Luke come to town for the Finals. Can he get over himself enough to see what Quinn and Sarah have is real?

Warnings: Angst, sibling fighting, light body shaming

Word Count: 5,600

Comments: I’ve been working on this fic for almost three months and tossing around ideas for it since December. On Thursday, something clicked into place, and the story just fell together. I really like the way it turned out, and I hope you like it too!

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing.

I love Quinn and Sarah, and I’m constantly blown away that so many of you love them, too.

Understanding (or the one in which Jack Hughes is forced to get over himself)

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah was sitting in the living room, trying not to freak out. Their night before had been one to remember, and her hips were still sore and achy from it in the most satisfying way.

But even remembering Quinn giving her so many orgasms she lost count — murmuring how proud he was of her with each and every one of them — couldn’t take away from the fact that his brothers were about to arrive.

Sarah and her siblings were close, but Quinn and his brothers were closer. They were all in the same phase of life - all playing professional hockey, all unmarried, and all figuring things out. Even Luke, who she knew, had been dating his girlfriend Kylee for two and a half years wasn’t in a place to get married, especially not while Kylee was still in school.

It was so different from her own siblings, who were both in the young family stage of life while she was still figuring out no-longer-single life and dating-a-professional-athlete life.

She loved her siblings, but they had less in common than they used to.

It felt like a huge test to be accepted by his family �� his best friends. She wasn’t totally sure what she’d do if they didn’t like her.

When she’d brought that up to Quinn after they’d finally collapsed into bed, he had pulled her close, kissed her forehead, and assured her, “they’re going to love you. I love you, so they’re going to love you.”

She hadn’t pointed out how flawed his logic was.

Quinn appeared at her side, holding a shot of rum, “here, I think you might need this.”

“I thought you said I don’t have anything to be worried about!”

“I don’t think you do.”

Her eyebrows shot up, “but you think I should take a shot?”

He gulped nervously, “Jack can just be kind of a lot. I’m not sure he’s totally over the whole, I didn’t tell him first thing.”

Her eyes went wide, and while Quinn had the best of intentions, he realized what a stupid move this was. Instead of calming her down, he was making her more anxious. He tried to backtrack, “you don’t have to. It was a stupid idea,” he said before starting back to the bar — intent on dumping the alcohol down the drain.

“No, come back.”

He turned, and she reached for the small glass, “it will take the edge off.”

Taking a deep breath, she tossed the liquor into her mouth. As soon as she’d swallowed, she pulled a face, “ugh, I hate shots. Remind me to never do that again.”

Laughing, he lifted the glass out of her hands and leaned down to kiss her. They stayed that way for a while, each of them remembering slices of the night before.

His phone trilled. He would have picked them all up from the airport, but Jack had insisted on renting a car for them to use while they were here, so there was no need.

The dinner they’d ordered was on it’s way, and everything was going to be fine.

Having finished her finals the day before, Sarah had spent most of the day relaxing and sleeping in Quinn’s bed. He’d left for practice, then crawled back in bed with her when he got home, happy to fall asleep again, holding her close.

As a result, he looked refreshed and clear headed.

“You ready?” he asked when the elevator dinged.

She nodded, standing and wrapping her arms around his torso.

She was wearing the same jeans she’d worn when she met the team and a cream colored top, partially unbuttoned, so he could see just a hint of her cleavage.

“It’s going to be fine,” he assured.

The very fact that he kept saying it made Sarah wonder if he was trying to convince himself into believing it.

She should have worn the green dress. When she’d been packing to stay at Quinn’s overnight, she’d convinced herself the boyfriend jeans were lucky enough now, and she didn’t need to pull out the big guns. Plus, she didn’t want Quinn to think she only had one outfit she wore when she was nervous. Now, that didn’t seem like it mattered much, and she wished she had the comforting assurance of it with her.

When Quinn opened the door and his brothers came tumbling into the apartment, Sarah immediately understood what her own brother had missed out on by only having two sisters.

They were so distinctly…male. There was a lot of congratulatory hair mussing and punching going on in celebration of Quinn making the finals.

Ellen was dutifully waiting for them to be done so she could hug her eldest.

To Sarah’s surprise, Jim was the first one to greet her, offering a hug she gladly accepted.

When they broke apart, Quinn moved to introduce everyone, “Sarah,” he said, and everyone’s eyes snapped to him, “these are my brothers Jack and Luke. Guys, this is Sarah.”

Luke gave her a shy smile and offered her a hand to shake. Jack didn’t move other than to give her a curt nod.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, pulling a smile onto her face she hoped masked her disappointment at his clipped response.

Ellen rolled her eyes and crossed the room to give her a hug.

The front desk buzzed up to let them know their food was delivered, and Sarah offered to go collect it just to get away from the tense meeting.

When they sat down to eat, Sarah was able to engage Luke in conversation, and they started talking about his girlfriend Kylee, who would be coming out once she had finished her finals. Once the ice was broken, Luke was easy to talk to, and they swapped stories about work and growing up.

More than once in their conversation, Sarah caught Ellen shooting disappointed looks at her middle son, who couldn’t seem to stop staring at her, but didn’t say a word.

The conversation lulled, and Jack spoke for the first time, “so, Sarah, what are you going to do when you’re done with school?” His tone was almost accusatory, like he expected her to say she would be moving to Dubai and leaving Quinn behind.

“I’m not really sure yet. I like working at the aquarium, so I wouldn’t mind staying there. But if I could get a job in conservation, that would be ideal. I feel more passionate about it.”

“What would you do in conservation?” he asked. It sounded a little like they were rehearsed questions on Jacks part, as if he were trying to appease someone by making conversation but didn’t actually care much about the subject.

“Well, there’s a lot that crosses over in terms of what can be done in the wild to make our oceans more habitable to everything that lives in them. And if we need to do any rescue and rehab, I can help care for most of those animals.”

“So you’re like a vet?”

“No, I can’t administer any medical treatment, but I can assist. I thought about going into veterinary medicine, but it would have meant seven more years of school, and there’s a lot of aspects of being a vet that terrify me.”

“Like what?” he asked with an arched eyebrow, as if her admitting she had weaknesses was completely unexpected.

Sarah flicked a glance at Quinn, who was looking at his brother with narrowed eyes, as if trying to figure out what he was getting at.

“Well, I’m not great with blood, for one. Plus, the smell of hospitals tends to give me panic attacks.”

Somehow, this admission made Jack relax. She was human, after all. When they met June, she was all smiles and rainbows and didn’t admit to having faults of any kind. Quinn talked about how genuine Sarah was, but Jack wanted to see it for himself.

Quinns eyes darted to her, and she gave him a small smile.

“What is it about hospitals?” Jim asked.

She took a deep breath and reached for Quinn’s hand under the table. Their fingers entwined, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“My mom died of cancer, so she spent a good portion of the last six months of her life in a hospital, and every time I came home, I would have to see her there. The smell always transports me straight back.”

Quinn didn’t hesitate to put his arm around her, and she leaned into his shoulder, blinking a few times.

Jack looked between them and felt something twist in his gut. This was so much more serious than he wanted to believe. He’d seen the signs from Quinn — the dreamy look he often got when he talked about her, and how it seemed like they were together all the time, or the way he talked about the future, like he couldn’t envision one without her in it.

The two sides of his mind warred. On one hand, he was glad Quinn found her, but on the other, he was still pissed he was the last one to know. He and Quinn were supposed to be best friends as well as brothers. He’d never keep something like that from Quinn, and it hurt every time he remembered Brady asking, “so what do you think of Sarah?”

Then, there was the whole issue of Sarah herself. Not that she was bad looking. She was pretty. But June was gorgeous, and Jack couldn’t help but think that Sarah was a bit of a step down.

The meal ended on less tense terms than it started on, and Quinn took Sarah home.

“Was it okay?” he asked.

She knotted her fingers together in her lap, “I don’t know. Was it? You know Jack better than I do.”

One of his hands dragged over his face before he reached for hers.

Gratefully, she took it, glad for the reassurance of his touch.

He felt off kilter. The end was such a stark contrast to the beginning that he had a hard time reconciling that morning as part of the same day.

“Can you come up for a minute?” she asked when he pulled in front of her building.

He glanced over with raised eyebrows only to find nervousness clearly written on her face. “Yeah, of course,” he said and flipped around to find a spot to park.

They got up to her apartment, which she knew would be empty - Eunice had gone home to stay with her parents for a week, and Jane was working. As soon as the door shut behind them, she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder.

“What’s up?” Quinn asked, his hands heavy and comforting on the small of her back.

“I just —” Sarah could feel the tears she’d pushed off for the drive home forcing their way up to the surface.

She sniffed, and Quinn pulled back, “what’s wrong?”

Sarah wiped her cheeks. “What if —” She didn’t want to say it out loud, but she needed to. Talking about it would make it better. She knew that, but it was still scary as hell to voice the anxiety that was eating away at her peace of mind. Not only was the summer going to fucking suck, “I think Jack hates me.”

Something behind his sternum fractured, “Jack doesn’t hate you.”

Looking up to meet his eyes, she asked, “really? Because it doesn’t seem like he likes me very much.”

“I think he just needs time to adjust to the situation. He’s still mad at me that I didn’t tell them first.”

“I don’t understand that either. My sister was the second person I told.” Technically, she’d been the 4th with her roommates, but no need to split hairs. Rachel was the second person she’d told on purpose.

He pulled a calming breath into his chest. “I think Brady mentioned June to you?” She nodded, and he continued, “June was…” how did he even find the right words? “We dated for a long time. Way longer than we should have. We weren’t good together. I mean, you know all that weird shit she had about sex, and she would break up with me every few months, then come back after a few days, begging to get back together.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It wasn’t great,” he admitted ruefully. “Anyway, my family never really came out and said they didn’t like her. They only said it after I called it off for good. I remember Jack told me, ‘Thank god, I never liked that bitch.’”

Sarah wrinkled her nose, and Quinn laughed, “yeah. Brady was the only one who told it to me straight from the beginning. He was pretty frank with me; his family doesn’t really beat around the bush about anything. He encouraged me to break it off for good. Anyway, when we met,” he gestured between them, “I was kind of hesitant to tell anyone. Not because I thought you were like June. You’re not. In any way. But I didn’t… I didn’t really trust my own judgment, you know?”

She didn’t, but she nodded anyway. That was something they could unpack later.

“I wanted Brady to meet you first since he and Emma had been so honest.”

This, she knew from conversations with Ellen and Brady himself, but it was nice to hear it from Quinn.

“Before I had a chance to tell him, Brady asked Jack what he thought of you while they were playing in Ottawa, and he called me, pretty pissed. I think he’s still caught on that.”

Pursing her lips, she wasn’t totally sure what the protocol for this was. “Is there anything I can do to fix it? I don’t want —” she broke off, feeling she couldn’t say it. She didn’t want Jack to come between them. She didn’t want to have to forge a new relationship when Quinn’s brother and best friend didn’t like her, and she didn’t want to put Quinn in a position where he would have to choose.

That fracturing feeling was back.

“That’s not going to happen,” Quinn said, picking up on what he thought the subtext of the conversation was as he ran his hands up and down her arms. “I think he just needs time. Jack doesn’t really hate anyone. It’s not in his nature.”

“Was he like this with Kylee?”

“No, but Luke and Kylee were friends in high school and college, so we knew her before they started dating.”

She thunked her forehead onto his shoulder and took a deep breath.

One of his hands ran over her hair, “I’m sorry. I know this put you in a really weird position.”

She felt his words in his chest at the same time she heard them and swallowed the feeling whole.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” she said, nuzzling into his shirt

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said. Definitive. Simple. Straight to the point.

She knew she sounded whiney, but she needed to say it, “but what happens if he never likes me? I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose.”

“Jack’ll come around. He’s never been able to hold grudges for very long.”

Looking up at him, then, hope filled her face, and he kissed her, hoping it reassured her. He was sure Jack would come around as soon as he could get his head out of his ass.

“I’m sorry, but I need to get back,” he said as gently as he could. Not only was there a game tomorrow, he knew his brothers would want to talk.

Swallowing down the loneliness of being in the apartment by herself for the night, she nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

‘Tomorrow,” he repeated before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too. One more?”

He couldn't resist.

One turned into six or seven, and he pulled away feeling light. “Jack’ll come around,” he assured again before kissing her once more and turning to go.

“I mean, she’s pretty and all,” Jack was saying as they stood in the living room. Their parents had gone to bed, so it was best to have this conversation on the floor below. “But don’t you think she’s a little big?”

Luke stared at Jack while Quinn glared at him. “What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, she has a pretty face, but her thighs are kind of huge.”

Luke spoke before Quinn could follow through with punching his brother in the face. “Is this because you actually think that, or because you’re mad Quinn didn’t trust you enough to tell you first?”

“Trust us,” Jack corrected through a jaw clenched so tight, it answered Lukes question for him.

“Fine. Whatever,” Luke said. He’d come to terms with it. He had been too scared to tell Quinn what he thought of June. After thinking it over, it did make sense for him to go to the only person in his life who made their concerns clear and keep Sarah from everyone else. They got attached to June, or at least to the idea of her. Luke had never really liked her. But he liked the idea of Quinn having a girlfriend. Of him having someone here in Van while the rest of them were all out east.

Now that he had met Sarah in person, not just talked on the phone with her - which Jack had made feel more like a job interview than a welcoming, get to know you chat - he understood just how bad of a match June had been for Quinn.

Gone were the tense morning phone calls after a blowout fight. Gone were the sick-in-love nights where Quinn was hanging up early before really talking to either of them so he could spend time with June while the getting was good. Gone were the confused, “I don’t know what she wants from me,” talks that happened way too often for Luke's liking.

Not only was Sarah more stable, Luke felt like Quinn was more stable with her.

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” Jack said, clinging to his pride. “You’re an athlete, Q. Do you really think she can keep up with the lifestyle?”

“It’s not like she needs to go to the gym with me every day,” Quinn shot back.

“The girls you’ve dated before have been…”

“Listen, Jack. Yes, Sarah might be a little bigger than the girls I’ve dated before, but she’s more than all of them.”

“I’ll say she’s more,” Jack snided.

Luke stepped in, “don’t be such a dick.”

“It’s true.”

“She’s better,” Quinn corrected, and his voice went hard. “She’s better than any of those girls. More driven and more supportive and more understanding and loving than anyone I’ve ever dated.”

That stopped Jack in his tracks. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to say.

This. This was the thing he was most scared of.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jack knew Quinn or Luke would eventually get married, and their unit would be changed forever. They wouldn’t be The Hughes Boys anymore. Not like they had been. They would be different. Sarah was coming in and stealing his brother from him.

“And just for the record,” Quinn said, getting in Jack’s face with a fierceness Luke rarely saw directed at either of them when talking about something so serious, “I don’t think Sarah’s fat, and I don’t think you do either. You never called Madeline fat, and she’s bigger than Sarah.”

Madeline was a plus-size model Jack had quietly dated and broken up with the year before.

Luke wondered, not for the first time, how much of their breakup was caused by Jack’s need to be perceived a certain way. Madeline was stunningly beautiful, but there were comments swirling all the time about how much bigger she was than him, and how could he possibly want to date someone so large, despite the fact that she was incredibly successful and was one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen. Not to mention that she kept to a diet that would put all of them to shame.

Caught, Jack snapped his mouth shut and glared.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay?” Quinn practically begged. “I should have, and I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean you need to take it out on her.”

Luke was struck at how much his oldest brother was trying to protect his girlfriend. Jack could say what he wanted about him, but when it came to Sarah, he was trying to put blame back where it belonged.

Quinn sunk into the club chair closest to him, raking his hands into his hair.

“Can you just TRY to get to know her?” he asked. “I think you’ll really like her if you get to know her.”

Jack huffed a breath through his nose and nodded once. Once again, he was struck with a sudden sense of vertigo, like everything around him was shifting and changing, pulled just off kilter.

He wasn’t blind, as much as he wanted to be. He knew Quinn, and the very fact he was directing the blame back on himself again and again told Jack all he needed to know about how he felt about Sarah. Even though he didn’t know her very well and resented the swift way she’d blown into Quinns life, Jack could see she would be around for a long time.

A few days later, as they sat around the table to eat breakfast, Ellen met Quinn's eyes, a warm smile lighting her face. “She's good. I really like her.”

Quinn knew his mom liked Sarah from when she first met his parents several weeks before.

Still, hearing her say this after seeing her interact with the rest of the family meant more. Some of the lingering anxiety he felt blew away. Jack still didn't love her, but he was softening up. Quinn wasn't sure anyone would ever live up to Jack's ideal standard. Luke loved everyone and liked to talk to her about the ocean. Plus, it seemed like she’d get along great with Kylee.

His dad nodded in agreement, “don't fuck it up.”

That spoke louder to Quinn than anything else he could have said. “I don't plan to.”

“Make sure you don't. She's good for you. Good for the family, too.”

“Too good for him,” Luke added quietly.

“That goes without saying. Most women will be for all of you.”

Jack scoffed.

“Is she coming to Hawaii?” his mom asked.

“What?” Jack exclaimed. “She can't come to Hawaii! That's our trip.”

Ellen looked at her middle son patiently, waiting for his instinctive reaction to calm down so he could think clearly.

“I asked her,” Quinn said, “but -”

Jack broke in, his hot head getting the best of him,“you talked about this without me?”

“Relax Jack,” Luke said.

“But she told me no,” Quinn finished.

“She told you no? She told me all sorts of things we should do from when she lived there. I was really hoping she could show us around,” Ellen admitted.

“I know,” Quinn said. “She said she didn't want to tread on family time.”

“She's going to be a part of this family, isn't she?” Ellen asked.

Jack glared at her, “mom, it hasn't even been six months.”

“Five months can tell you a lot, Jack. Can't you see how much your brother loves her? And how much she loves him?”

Jack had to admit she was right. Quinn was more settled - no, that wasn't it. He had always been settled. He was more…at ease. A better, less worried version of himself. It was like Sarah had come in and soothed all this anxiety and all these fears that had been bubbling beneath Quinn’s skin. Only when they were gone did Jack notice.

And Sarah was…sweet. She was considerate and kind and tried her best to engage him in conversation.

“Sar told me she would only come if everyone said it was okay, especially you, Jack.”

Jack looked at his brother, totally taken aback. Something in him shifted. “Really?”

Quinn nodded. “She doesn't want to tread on our time. She knows we don't get much time together anyway.”

Jack had been feeling like she'd just come barging into their family, taking his brother away from him. He'd heard Quinn talk about her, but seeing it in real life - seeing how much time they spent together, how they had their own little language, and always seemed to be touching each other - he wasn't ready to lose his brother like that.

But this shifted things a bit. It was one thing to visit the lake house or even tag along to a big family vacation, but the trip to Hawaii was more than that. It was going to be just them. Even Kylee wasn't coming. He was pretty sure it was because she had a family reunion of her own she couldn't skip out on, but the sentiment still counted.

“I'll think about it,” Jack agreed begrudgingly.

The morning after the Canucks were eliminated, Sarah wandered down to the kitchen wearing one of Quinn’s Michigan shirts and a pair of his boxers, still slightly twisted slightly from sleep.

“Oh,” she greeted hesitantly upon seeing him at the bar, “morning, Jack.”

Watching her and Quinn interact last night had cracked something in him. Not only that Sarah was here to stay, but it awoke a kind of longing to have someone totally accept him.

It was made even worse when he wandered up to the gaming room, figuring he could at least watch some TV if he couldn’t get any sleep, and heard noise from Quinn’s bedroom that let him know they were going at it. He didn’t ever want to think about his brother having sex, but the fact that Quinn had so many different levels of comfort available - all seemingly tailored to meet his exact needs - after a hard day woke a deep longing for that kind of intimacy in Jack. He hadn’t allowed himself to want it, at least since he and Madeline broke up.

He gave up on the gaming room and slept on the uncomfortable living room sofa. Now his shoulder was sore, and his hips hurt, and he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep.

“Morning,” he mumbled, hating that she felt like she needed to tip toe around him. He knew it was his own fault, but now he was in so deep that he wasn’t sure how to get out of it. The conversation about Hawaii, realizing she was thinking about their family as well as her relationship with Quinn along with what happened the night before, had him feeling ready to make peace with her. Except that would just be him admitting he was wrong, which seemed so much easier than it felt.

She put a pod in the coffee maker, more at home in Quinns house than he was. That was a new feeling. Jack had searched for the coffee pods that morning, and when he couldn’t find one, settled for milk. Now, he wondered why Quinn kept them in the drawer beneath the coffee maker when it would have made more sense to keep them in the cupboard above.

“How did you sleep?” she asked, leaning her butt on the counter while the machine gurgled.

He shrugged, “Luke snored all night.”

Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“We haven’t had to share a room when he’s not exhausted from hockey in a long time.”

She nodded, pulling creamer out of the fridge.

He watched her walk back to her mug, noting the way her thighs trembled with each step. He loved that about Madeline. The softness of her. She was stunning, but not hard. Before he’d met her, he didn’t know those things could coexist.

“How did you sleep?”

“Good,” she said, “Quinn was so exhausted, I don’t think he turned over once.”

“Isn’t he the worst?” Jack said with a loud, laughing groan. “Flailing all over the bed.”

Sarah snorted when he nearly fell backward off the stool in his demonstration of flailing limbs. “Has he always done that?”

“Since we were kids. He must be a nightmare to share a bed with.”

“Thankfully, I don’t think I’ve experienced any flailing. He must be a little less writhe-y now, but if we’re not cuddling, he does usually toss and turn all night.”

“Good,” he said, and then immediately felt stupid. What was she supposed to say to that now?

“Where are your parents?” she asked instead, bringing the mug to her lips to blow on the hot liquid.

“They went to get breakfast or something,” he said with a vague gesture over his shoulder. “They invited me, but I went back to sleep.”

“Have you eaten? I was about to cook some eggs.”

“Is Quinn up?” he asked.

“He was still conked out when I got up. I figured I’d let him sleep. No use in waking him when he’s finally getting some solid rest.”

There it was again - that pinch of jealousy. She knew him in ways Jack didn’t, like her knowledge that cuddling kept Quinn still at night, and she obviously liked to care for him.

It’s not like he didn’t want her in his brothers life. She obviously made Quinn happy, and all Jack really wanted was for him to be happy.

It was a weird, night and day difference between Quinn now and Quinn at the beginning of the season. When they’d left Michigan in September, it wasn’t like Quinn had been depressed - he’d been excited to get back to hockey - but he’d spent so much of the off season wondering if he and June were actually a good match that when he left, it felt like he was leaving without having anything truly resolved. When they’d finally broken up in November, a huge sigh of relief had swept through Quinn’s whole life.

Looking back now, Jack should have known something was up when Quinn started calling them, relaxed and cheerful, quick with a smile and a joke in a way he hadn’t been since he and June had broken up. Now, he was happy and content, and Jack could practically see the love he had for Sarah glowing on his skin.

After spending time with her, he understood how Quinn had fallen so hard, so fast. She was kind but willing to put in the work, genuine and honest, but funny and snarky.

Might as well just get it over with.

“Listen, Sarah,” he began, looking down at his glass of milk, “I’m sorry.”

She continued to look at him over her mug. It struck him that she waited for him to finish without jumping in or jumping to conclusions.

“You’re really good for Quinn,” he admitted.

Something in her heart fluttered.

“And I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a dick. With June it was pretty obvious they weren’t going to last so I never put much stock in her, but I…” he chewed briefly on this thumbnail, thinking, “but I can see how you guys are good together.”

A smile reached her eyes.

He blew out a deep breath. “It’s just…Quinn’s my brother, you know?” Shaking his head, he raked a hand into his hair, “I’m sorry, I'm not making any sense.”

“It’s okay, Jack,” she said, her voice calm. He wondered if she ever raised it. “I’ve been through this, too, when my sister started dating someone seriously. It’s weird and hard when someone new comes into your family.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m taking Quinn away from you or something.”

“You couldn’t,” he said, then realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, I know you wouldn’t. I can see that now.”

Smiling in a way he realized was totally genuine, she set her mug on the counter. “Thank you, Jack. That means a lot coming from you.”

It was like she knew all he needed was time. There were no hard feelings, no grudges or fits. No glares from across the room. She just waited and gave him time, and wasn’t mad at how much he needed.

And now that he’d admitted it, she let it lie, changing the subject as soon as it’d been put to rest. “So, do you want some eggs?” she asked, turning back to the fridge.

It was a refreshing turn of events.

“Sure,” he stood from the bar stool, “how can I help?”

By the time Quinn wandered down the stairs, clumsy with sleep and rubbing his eyes, they had omelets going.

Looking nervously between Jack and Sarah, side by side in the kitchen, he briefly wondered if he was still dreaming. One night, and it seemed all of Jack’s hesitations had been put to bed.

“Morning,” he yawned.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, smiling bright, “hey, how’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he said through another yawn as he walked up to them. He slipped an arm around Sarah’s waist and rested the other on Jacks shoulder, “you two made up?”

“I don’t think we were fighting, really,” Sarah said, “but we came to an understanding.”

Jack smiled gratefully, and Quinn leaned in to kiss her cheek.

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puck-luck · 29 days ago

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new beginnings | july 22 - 28

57:90 – TREVOR

Today’s the day. After weeks of pining after Honey and trying to get her to go out with him, Trevor gets to take her to dinner. He’s going to treat her to anything she wants: drinks, multiple appetizers, four extra-large pizzas if that’s what her heart desires. Pizza is the top contender for his favorite food once again, just because it’s the food that Honey told him she wanted last night when she agreed to go to dinner with him. She said yes when he asked her on a date. This is the true start of something wonderful.

Granted, he’s been sleeping with her for the past three weeks or so, but this is different. This is their first date.

The day has been swell so far. He woke up when Honey climbed out of his hammock and returned to her own, while the sky was still dark. She kissed him on the mouth before she walked away. He woke a second time when everyone else did– Luke shook him awake and said they couldn’t find Jack because he wasn’t in his hammock.

A search party had assembled while the girls went to make breakfast in Honey’s kitchen. Quinn and Luke were quietly serious as they walked through the woods with Cole and Trevor, checking the entire perimeter of Honey’s property. They hadn’t found Jack by the time Bea called them for breakfast.

No one found him until Honey went up to the loft to put the blankets from the night before in her laundry hamper. That’s when they heard an outraged shriek and a confused shout, then a loud thud. Turns out, Jack had snuck into Honey’s house in the middle of the night because he was cold. He slept in Honey’s bed. Trevor would be mad at Jack for sleeping in his girlfriend’s bed, but he’s finding it very difficult to be anything other than giddy today.

After cleaning up all of the hammocks, Trevor and the boys bid Honey adieu. Bea said her goodbyes as well, promising to meet up with Quinn later before getting in her own car and heading home.

It’s good that Quinn didn’t go off with Bea right away– Trevor needs him on hand. After he takes a shower to wash off the morning dew and outside-ness that’s clinging to his skin after his night getting out of the doghouse, Trevor waits for the sound of Quinn’s footsteps coming up the stairs. When he’s not with Bea, he usually comes up to his room to grab a book. Sometimes, he’ll nap before getting a training session in after lunch.

Trevor’s poised by the door as Quinn begins his ascent. After spending so much time with the boys growing up, Trevor knows how to recognize them just by the way they walk up the stairs. Jack prances down the stairs and climbs them in quick succession, Quinn lumbers up and down with heavy feet, Luke takes the stairs two at a time on the way up and does a weird hopping thing on the way down, and Cole likes to race up the stairs quick. He’ll sometimes go so fast that he needs to steady himself with his hands, and then he looks like a dog. It’s weird. Trevor doesn’t want to ask him why he does it, though, because Cole’s probably got some bizarre explanation.

Quinn takes his final step onto the second floor and Trevor catches him right as he’s passing Trevor’s door.

“Get in here,” Trevor says, relatively unnecessarily with the way he has grabbed Quinn’s shirtsleeve and tugged him inside the bedroom. He pushes Quinn until he’s sitting on the edge of Trevor’s bed and Trevor is standing in front of him.

“What do you want, Z?” Quinn asks, blinking like he’s bored.

Trevor hasn’t even said anything to make him bored yet. That’s just rude. “Don’t be a dick, Quinn. Help me pick an outfit.”

Quinn makes a face. “An outfit for what?” He says. “I don’t think you need my help– actually, you probably do, but I don’t want to help.”

Trevor glares at him for a second, just to show his displeasure at the insult of his style, then relents. “Honey and I are going on a date.”

“Willingly?”

Trevor glares again. “Yes. She agreed.”

“When?”

“Last night.”

“Are you sure she wasn’t drunk? We all had a lot of wine. Maybe she was horny. You know how red wine affects women,” Quinn says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Trevor makes a face. He’s now thinking about how easily Quinn let Bea get her hands on him, practically inviting her to do more. “Sure, Quinn. How women get,” Trevor repeats sarcastically. “No, she wasn’t too drunk. If anything, she was tired.”

“So Honey agreed to go out with you on a date without any coercion?” Quinn asks again.

Trevor rolls his eyes. “Yes.”

“And you need me to help you pick out an outfit?” Quinn clarifies. Trevor nods. Quinn grins, although it doesn’t look all that kind. “Where are you going?”

“The pizza place,” Trevor replies. “She wants pizza.”

“When are you going? Like an evening or a night date.”

“We’re going after she buys fruit from the stand outside the grocery store. Probably like 7 p.m.” Trevor’s not sure why Quinn needs all these details.

Quinn claps his hands against his knees, then stands. “Wear a t-shirt and some jeans, bud. Brush your hair. Brush your teeth. I don’t think she’ll give a shit about what you wear. Bye.” He leaves the room.

He’s not very helpful. Trevor knows that. He thought, though, that Quinn would be interested in his date with Honey. If Trevor dates Honey, Quinn is probably more likely to stay with Bea, even though Honey insists that Bea doesn’t want to keep the relationship going after this summer. He doesn’t even try to understand the girl– she’s an enigma. Quinn is lucky he can bag her at all.

Trevor changes into the clothes that Quinn recommended, then he texts Honey to see what time she wants to go buy her fruit. She tells him the normal time, Trevor says he’ll pick her up, Honey resists, Trevor insists. Honey finally relents. Trevor blows her a kiss through the phone and Honey tells him that he’s doing too much, although he can hear her smile through the speaker.

The day passes insanely slow. Trevor tries to read one of the books from the shelves around the house, but it’s boring and too prop-like to enjoy. It’s about some western North Carolina town and it’s all too factual for Trevor. Where’s the story? Where’s the fun? So, he gives up on that. He could play hockey with the boys, but he doesn’t want to take another shower before his date with Honey, so he doesn’t. He cooks a bit, planning out some lunches and meal prepping. That takes a couple of hours, which is good. By the time he’s sitting down to watch a movie with Cole, he’s got less than an hour before he has to go meet Honey.

He should make a reservation.

The idea pops into his head just as Cole turns the volume on the TV up to fifty and cracks open a beer. “I’ll be right back,” Trevor says, standing and heading out to the patio, already looking up the number of the pizza place on his phone. He dials, holding the phone to his ear, and waits for them to pick up.

Which, they don’t. He tries again. This time, on the fifth ring, they finally pick up.

“Hello?” Comes a rushed voice from the other side.

“Hi, I’d like to make a reservation for two tonight around 7 p.m.?” Trevor says.

“We don’t take reservations. Just come in. See you soon.” They hang up.

Okay. That’s that. Kind of rude of them, but Trevor just assumes that the pizza place is busy. He doesn’t know how busy Main Street Pizzeria could be in a tiny town like Litchton, especially since they don’t even take reservations, but he will let it go. It’s fine. His date with Honey will be perfect regardless.

He watches the movie with Cole– most of it, anyway– before driving to Honey’s house. He made the excuse to the boys that he was going out for a drive on the parkway, then that he was going to run to the store and grab some more beer. The guys fall for the bait, except Quinn, who just sucks in his cheeks to hide a grin.

Trevor debates going up to Honey’s door to knock and pick her up properly, but she’s coming outside before he can make up his mind. She’s wearing green overalls with a white t-shirt underneath, plus her “birkenclogs”– a phrase Trevor had never heard to describe the closed-toe Birkenstocks before meeting Honey– and her usual mesh bag. Her thick hair is thrown up haphazardly. She does that a lot, just to get the strands off her neck so that she can breathe more in the hot sun. He watches her walk, making sure to catalog every step, because he wants to make sure he remembers what she looks like on their first date.

“Did you know the Olympics start this week?” Honey asks when she opens the car door. “They start on, like, Friday. The Opening Ceremony is going to be on the Seine, dude. We’ve gotta watch.”

“Yeah, I should be back by then,” Trevor says, moving past the way he wants to frown when Honey calls him “dude.” He reaches over and takes Honey’s hand after he shifts the car into drive and starts to make his way down her driveway.

“Back?” Honey asks, making a face. “Where are you going?”

“Home, for a night. I’m flying up to New York later this week. I’ll be in Bedford on Wednesday night, then I have a hockey thing in Connecticut on Thursday, and then I’m planning to fly back here Friday morning.” Trevor presses his lips together after he explains, waiting for Honey to question him further.

“Okay,” Honey says instead, but her voice sounds weird. Maybe a little perturbed. “This is the first I’m hearing about it. When did you buy your tickets home?”

“Couple of weeks ago,” Trevor replies with a shrug. “It was less me buying the tickets and more me telling the Ducks what time I wanted to get there, then they sent me the tickets.”

Honey hums, a quick little hmph that acknowledges that she heard him. She doesn’t say anything else, but she continues holding Trevor’s hand as he drives them into town.

She doesn’t talk much as they sort through the fruit at the stand, saying hello to Joan but mostly keeping her head down. She picks out her favorites– peaches, blueberries, raspberries, and a couple of mangoes– and Trevor is sure to carry the basket of strawberries that Joan holds out expectantly for Honey. Joan tells her that Bea called ahead to say Honey could pick the berries up for her, and that she had sent Joan a Venmo, so Honey doesn’t have to pay. Trevor doesn’t want Honey to hold the strawberries, because he’ll be damned if something messes with his date, like a case of the hives that would more piss Honey off than actually harm her.

They drive back to the house so that Honey can put her groceries away. Trevor would hate for the fruit to bake in the warm car while they eat pizza, since they’d be rendered useless and gross by the end of the night.

“You stay here,” Trevor says. “I’ll take your groceries inside. Be back in a second.”

He’s out of the car in a flash, rounding the vehicle and taking the mesh bag of goodies from Honey, who’s staring at him with a deep line between her eyebrows.

“What’s that face for?” Trevor asks with a laugh, leaning in to give her a kiss and wipe the look away. “I’m allowed to be a gentleman sometimes.”

He leaves her in the car, opening her front door easily because she still rarely locks it. He puts the fruit in the fridge and fills her bowl of apples on the counter. It takes all of five minutes before he comes back to find Honey still frowning. She’s typing on her phone– a paragraph that he’s assuming is going to Bea– but hurriedly slides her phone into her pocket when Trevor sneaks an apparently not-so subtle glance at the screen.

“Did you beat Jack up for sleeping in my bed last night?” Honey asks, sounding intrigued.

“No, where’d you hear that?” Trevor replies.

She shrugs. “Didn’t. I was just wondering. I know how possessive you get.”

“Jack’s too much of a princess to fight. If he can’t even sleep outside for one night in the middle of summer, then he’s not tough enough to fight me. I’d clear him.” Trevor pulls out onto the road, heading back into town. “Disappointed that I didn’t?”

Honey hums. “Not really. He deserves it, though. He slept in my bed in his outside clothes and he didn’t even ask first.”

“You were asleep, to be fair.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Honey crosses her arms over her chest. “He should’ve asked. Or he should’ve slept on my couch.”

Trevor smiles fondly at the pout in her voice. “I’ll beat him up for you later, baby. Jack will pay for invading your space.”

“I knew you were good for something,” Honey says and Trevor likes the pride that flows through her voice. “Now. Where are you taking me?”

“Pizza. ‘Member?” Trevor reaches over and takes Honey’s hand again, but she’s not as quick to intertwine their fingers. In fact, when Trevor looks over to check on her, she’s frowning at him again.

She doesn’t remember.

Trevor tries not to let that sting. He said it to Quinn himself a few hours earlier– Honey was tired. They’d had a long day. She fell asleep shortly after agreeing to go out with him. Of course she doesn’t remember.

A bulb of embarrassment plants itself in Trevor’s chest. How stupid he was for being so excited about this– Honey didn’t even comprehend that they’re going on their first date. She’s probably been sitting in the car all confused, wondering why Trevor was putting her groceries away and telling her to stay in the car to wait for him. She probably wouldn’t have even agreed to go out with him if she’d been more awake. He thought– like an idiot– that Honey climbing into his hammock was a good sign, so he’d asked. He thought that– well, whatever.

Trevor looks back at the road. He’s about to turn onto Main Street anyway, so he takes his hand from Honey’s and rests his fingers on the lever to signal his turn. “You said you wanted pizza. I thought we’d go to the place on Main.”

“Main Street Pizzeria,” Honey says.

“Yeah. I called earlier to make a reservation,” Trevor says.

“They don’t take reservations.”

“That’s what they told me.”

“It’s because it’s a small town. You never need a reservation in Litchton because there aren’t enough people to fill the restaurant at one time, even during the dinner rush,” she explains. Trevor can see Honey twisting her hands together in her lap out of his peripheral vision.

“I figured it was something like that.”

Honey hums.

Trevor parallel-parks into a spot on the road and shuts off his car. He gets out of the vehicle and opens the door for Honey, waiting for her to step out before he closes it behind her. She sits in the passenger seat and doesn’t move for a second. Then, she twists and faces Trevor.

“This is a date,” Honey says. “Isn’t it?”

She’s biting her lip and she’s got that worried line between her eyebrows again. For a second, Trevor wishes she wasn’t so hesitant to be his partner. He wants her to just say ‘Okay’ and then they can jump into being an official couple, who kiss in front of their friends and know each other as well as they know themselves. He’s frustrated because he likes her so much and she’s still walking on eggshells around him. After that split-second, he catches himself. He likes Honey as she is. She just needs more time than he does. He’s already pretty sure that Scarlett was right about the whole wedding thing, but Honey isn’t even at the point where she’s ready to date.

“Doesn’t have to be,” Trevor replies. He sends her a brief smile before his eyes fall to the sidewalk. It’s disappointing, yeah. He spent so much time today thinking about how this was going to be his first date with Honey, with the girl he really likes, and now it’s not. His heart is a little heavier. He might not be able to finish a whole pizza, which is a shame, because he was excited to order his own pizza and completely pig out. On a normal first date, he wouldn’t, but Honey doesn’t mind. She’d just laugh at him and tease him for being so hungry.

Honey seems to contemplate that for a minute. She steps out of the car, hovering by Trevor’s side as he closes the door. She loops her arms around his left arm, one of her hands finding his fingers and the other curling around the space just above his elbow. She presses her cheek into his shoulder and speaks, voice muffled and lips pouty from the pressure of his body against her face. “If I’d known this was a date, I wouldn’t have worn my birkenclogs.”

Relief actually floods Trevor’s chest. After the realization that the dinner would be a date, Trevor was expecting Honey to pull away from him. He thought the conversation would be stilted and awkward and she’d only give him one-word answers when he spoke to her. She gets like that sometimes, and Trevor doesn’t usually mind, but it would be hard to have a good date when your girlfriend is talking more to the waiter than to you.

He places his other hand on the back of hers, where it rests on his bicep. “You love your birkenclogs, though,” Trevor reminds her.

Honey looks up at him with her normal, unimpressed eyes. She always looks at him like this before making a joke– it took Trevor a while to clock that, but he’s clued into the pattern now. “Be easier to run away from my bad date if I had sneakers on,” she tells him, scrunching her nose a little bit and pursing her lips like she’s annoyed with him. She’s secretly pleased, Trevor thinks. He’s not sure, but he thinks that she is.

He opens the door for her, even pulls out her chair at the tiny table that the hostess assigns to them. The girl actually laughs when Trevor tells her that he was the one who called about the reservation, then brings over a candelabra that was probably $1 at best at the grocery store down the street. The candles don’t even match, plus they’ve been used before.

Trevor doesn’t find it funny, how this hostess is teasing him for trying to make a dinner reservation for himself and his date, until he sees Honey press a finger to the tip of her nose and bite back a smile. For her, he’ll just shut up and take the joke.

They order their drinks and one pepperoni pizza to share. They talk about nothing: Honey’s upcoming week, the pool tournament that the boys have been thinking about putting on which Honey is excited to win, and Trevor invites her to go golfing with them on Saturday. She says no at first, lip curled with judgment. She only agrees when he says that Bea can come too and they don’t have to golf at all– they can just drive the cart around and use his credit card to order as many drinks and snacks as they’d like. They’ve turned the topic towards Shoulder Check now, which Honey seems interested in.

“It’s a mental health advocacy thing?” She asks.

“It’s not, like, the world’s biggest or most successful organization,” Trevor says with a shrug. “We’re just trying to promote how important it is to check in on people and be there for them. You never know what someone could be going through. It’s also fun to bring mental health into the world of hockey, because not many people think about how athletes can be affected. My buddy Spence has OCD, but no one really talks about it in the NHL, so it’s easy to overlook. Also, like– it’s hard to be an athlete. Your body is sore all the time and you have to be healthy and fit, plus you’re always on the road, so not everyone’s mental health is all that great.”

“That’s very mindful, Trevor,” Honey tells him, pinching the tip of her plastic straw between her fingers. Her eyes are squinted, looking at him like she’s got something else to say, but she’s not sure how to best frame it.

“What are you thinking?” Trevor asks, quirking an eyebrow and returning her squint.

“I’ll tell you, but you can’t get too excited about it,” Honey says.

Trevor holds his pinky out for her to take, elbow resting on the plane of the table below him. They lock pinkies and Trevor promises not to get too excited just as their food arrives, so they have to break for a moment.

Over the steaming pizza, once the waiter has left, Honey finishes her thought. “It’s sexy to be a champion for mental health, Trevor.” She picks up the triangular spatula that the waiter left for them and starts to section off her first slice of pizza, making sure to chop at the lines of cheese that cling to her slice. She doesn’t even look at him while she says it, too focused on the pizza. It’s like she doesn’t find the connection between the words “sexy” and “Trevor” meaningful at all.

Trevor does. He very much enjoys when his pretty girlfriend says that he, or something he does, or a trait he has, is sexy. Her comment is like a loose thread on a shirt and Trevor is going to pick at it. “Sexy, you say,” Trevor teases, making sure his hand bumps against hers when she offers the spatula to him. “So you wanna have sex with me?”

Honey lifts her eyes and glares at him. “I told you two days ago that I’m not having sex with you for a week because you were acting like a petulant asshole.”

Trevor pouts. “Yeah, but that was two days ago,” he whines. ��It’s basically already been a week. We haven’t fucked since before you called me on the phone while you were babysitting. End the punishment, baby.” He overemphasizes a frown, batting his eyelashes at Honey. “I thought our date was going so well, too.”

“Do you actually think you’re going to get lucky on the first date?” Honey asks, laughing at him. “I don’t know what your girls in California are like, Trev, but on this coast, we have a little decorum. We’re not going to drop our panties at the sight of a pretty boy.”

“Tell that to Bea,” Trevor says. He takes a sip of his drink, hoping his eyes are twinkling with amusement so that Honey knows he’s playing along. He’s gotten pretty good at using his eyes to show emotion, ever since he heard from an old girlfriend that girls are suckers for a boy with pretty eyes. He really needs to utilize everything in his arsenal to make sure Honey will actually date him and be his girlfriend.

“Tell what to Bea?”

Trevor gags on his water and turns to his left, towards the aisle where the bathrooms are hidden. There she stands, Honey’s best friend, who always manages to pop up at the most unexpected and unwelcome of times. “Jesus Christ,” Trevor chokes out.

“That you’re a panty-dropper,” Honey says. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m only a panty-dropper when the moment calls for it,” Bea tells Trevor seriously. She crosses her arms over her chest. “We’re eating.”

“We?” Trevor demands. “Who’s we?”

“Trevor, don’t act dumb. You know who ‘we’ is. I went over to the house after you went out on your ‘drive,’ the boys wanted food and no one wanted to cook so Quinn suggested pizza.” Bea points towards the other side of the restaurant, hidden behind a line of booths. “The boys wanted to order in, Quinn didn’t want to call so he suggested going out to eat… and now I see why. What are y’all up to?”

Trevor grinds his teeth together. Quinn is the perfect example of an annoying older brother. Trevor went to him in confidence, seeking help with his outfit because he was excited to go out with Honey. Quinn has repaid him by bringing all the boys and Bea to the same restaurant, just to derail the date. He is so fucking annoying. Jack is not the only Hughes brother that Trevor needs to beat up tonight.

Honey’s eyes have gone wide and her eyes are darting towards the area where the rest of the boys are sitting. Trevor nudges her foot under the table and her eyes come back to him, but there’s a nervousness in her expression that he knows can’t be shaken no matter what he does. Trevor reaches across the table and touches her fingers, wanting to hold her hand, but she won’t like that.

“Why don’t you go hang out with the boys,” Trevor suggests. “Bea ran into you while you were grabbing your dinner to-go, yeah? I’ll pack up the pizza and take it to your house. We can try again another time.”

Honey offers him a little smile.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” Bea interrupts. “You guys finish up whatever this is. Sorry for interrupting.” She looks over the table, then to Trevor. “Cute candles.”

Once she leaves, Honey’s fingers twitch under Trevor’s hold. She squeezes his fingers between hers, biting her bottom lip slightly. “Sorry you have to sneak out,” she says quietly. “I wish I weren’t so freaked out by them knowing, sometimes.”

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to apologize to me,” Trevor replies, matching her tone. “I got to eat with you for a little while, didn’t I?”

Honey hums, tracing his nailbed with a featherlight touch. “Still. I didn’t even remember it was a date and that made you sad, and now you have to leave.” She bites the inside of her cheek, avoiding Trevor’s eyes.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Trevor says. He taps the table under her palm, to make her look at him. “It’s okay. Will you send the waiter over here when you see him? I’ll take the check and a box.” He smiles, and even though he’s not really able to hide his disappointment, he’s not mad at the situation. He’s mad at Quinn, that’s for sure, but it’ll just make Honey more anxious if he says that. He sees Bea coming coming back down the hallway. “Can I see you before I leave on Wednesday? I have an interview with the network, but you can sit on my bed and watch me take it.”

“Sounds thrilling,” Honey replies with a sarcastic scoff. “Watching you talk into a camera about hockey.”

“You know you want to.” Trevor makes eye contact with Bea over Honey’s shoulder. “Okay. Gimme a kiss before you abandon me?”

Honey snorts out a laugh, standing from her seat and leaning down to kiss him before she joins Bea. It’s a brief kiss, but Honey slots her lips between his in a way that he can feel the wet inside of her lip against the chapped outside of his own.

“Gross,” Bea states.

Honey sighs and touches her forehead to Trevor’s. “Says the girl who let Quinn finger her in the hammock,” she whispers to herself with chagrin before standing. Trevor smiles at the annoyance in her voice. He grabs her hand and gives it a squeeze. Honey squeezes it back, then she goes with Bea.

Trevor talks to the waiter briefly, signing the check and packing up the rest of the pizza. They barely put a dent in it– only one slice each. They were supposed to have so much time tonight. Trevor purses his lips and sucks at his teeth when he looks at the food in the box. He shakes his head and closes the lid, leaving a cash tip on the table. He tries his best to hide his face as he leaves, hearing Cole laughing aloud as he nears the front door.

Trevor manages to escape without being caught and walks past Quinn’s car before going to his own. He pauses for a minute. If it weren’t a rental, he’d key it right here and now. That’s what Quinn deserves for knowing that he’d mess up Trevor’s night if he came to the pizza place, which he did.

Instead, Trevor lets it go. Whatever. Quinn can play his games all he wants, but Trevor and Honey are still making progress. Something stupid like this won’t stop that.

58:90 – HONEY

Bea arrives at the store on time for once. Early, actually. It’s the first time all summer that Honey has seen her in the store before she’s scheduled, except when she’s in charge of opening. Honey’s in the stacks when Bea arrives. She’s startled by the chime of the bell when the door opens, jumping and peeking her head out to see if one of the ladies had come in early– Honey could’ve sworn she’d left the door locked, but it was possible that she was misremembering. When it’s Bea, she blinks in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” Honey asks, but she’s not mad that Bea’s here early. Over the years they’ve been working together, Honey and Bea have spent countless mornings opening the store together. When it’s Honey’s turn to open, Bea sits on the counter and talks as Honey performs her chores. When it’s Bea’s turn to open, she dillydallies until Honey hops off the counter and helps her out. Honey always complains, but it doesn’t bother her. She likes to stay busy and Bea isn’t actually trying to get out of work– she’s just a pest.

“Can you go to the coffee shop down on the corner and pick up my drinks for me?” Bea asks, batting her eyelashes and pouting. “I got you one, too, but I think I saw Joel in the window this morning when I passed by.”

Joel is one of Bea’s exes– one of the ones that she did not enjoy her time with, so she avoids him at all costs. He lives in Winston now, but he’ll visit in the summers sometimes and picks up an extra shift at the coffee shop when he’s tired of hanging out with his siblings.

“I’ll do your chores,” Bea sing-songs, grinning at Honey widely. “And I’ll pay for your dinner when we stalk Luke tonight.”

Honey rolls her eyes, snickering under her breath. “Yeah, but you’d better actually do work while I’m gone.” She makes her way past Bea, heading towards the front door, when the girl catches her arm.

“Are you okay?” Bea asks, tilting her head to the side. “After yesterday, I mean. You’re not anxious, you’re not upset? And you’d tell me if you were?”

Surprisingly enough, Honey isn’t anxious or upset about her date with Trevor ending early. For a second, when Bea first said that the boys were eating dinner on the other side of the restaurant, she felt trapped. That feeling made her pulse jump and her heartbeat to grow loud in her ears, but she calmed down when Trevor touched her fingers and spoke to her in quiet tones. It was grounding. So, yeah, she’s okay.

“I’m fine, Buzzy. There will be other dates,” Honey replies with a shrug, unaware of the smile that’s pulling at her lips. It’s a natural instinct to smile when thinking about Trevor now.

She doesn’t miss the way Bea’s eyes light up and her face brightens. “There will be?” She repeats, her tongue poking through the rows of her teeth with how hard she’s smiling.

“Shut up,” Honey deflects, ducking her head to hide the blush on her cheeks. She pulls her arm away from Bea’s touch and finally makes it to the door, the bell twinkling again as she opens it.

“We’re not done talking about this,” Bea says as Honey goes. The door is swinging shut behind her, so Bea raises her voice. “This isn’t over!”

Honey chuckles to herself, shaking her head as she walks down the street. She waves at Earl, who’s unlocking the door to the hardware store. He beckons her over, so Honey goes. “Good morning, Earl.”

“Honey,” he greets, voice gruff. He sticks his hand out for her to shake. Honey takes it.

“How are you? I’ve been missing you. I see your wife way more than I see you nowadays.”

“Well, I’m not reading so much. You know my eyes have gone bad. I called you over here because I wanted to give you something. Come here.” Earl leads her into the store. Bea will have to deal without her coffee for a little while longer.

“A present? For me?” Honey teases.

“No. For your boy,” Earl replies. He throws his shoulder against the door to the back, opening it with a grunt. That door always gets stuck– Vera, Honey, and Bea have told Earl that he should just replace it. He says no. He likes his door. He’s a stupidly stubborn and sentimental man.

“For my boy?” Honey repeats with a laugh. “Who?”

Earl looks at her out of the corner of his eye, disappearing into his workshop.

Honey blinks. She hasn’t told Earl– maybe Bea did? Maybe Vera assumed that she and Trevor are together since he’s been visiting her at the store so often. Honey will have to tell him to stop that. If the old ladies are noticing, then it’s only a matter of time before it spreads all over town. It’s only a matter of time before it gets back to Trevor’s boys– and she can’t have that. The rational part of her brain says that it’ll probably be fine, but everyone knew about her and Thomas. Then, everyone knew everything the second things went wrong. She doesn’t want that with Trevor.

Earl comes hobbling back with an armful of thin twigs, sanded down so that Honey can see the rings from the wood on their surface. “Here,” he says, shifting the wood in his arms so that she can take each stick and balance them in her arms accordingly.

“What do I need these for?” She asks. “My budding gondola business? I don’t plan on pursuing boat transport anytime soon, sir.”

“I told you, they’re for your boy. Hockey sticks. It’s been a while since I made one, but I thought they might enjoy them. Wooden sticks were before their time, but it’s good to revisit the classics.” Earl huffs. “The wooden ones are more durable, anyhow. It would improve their game to get used to one.”

Honey’s arms feel heavier now, knowing what Earl’s project was and his intentions. “You made hockey sticks for the boys,” she says. Her voice sounds far away.

“Don’t get emotional about it,” Earl grunts out. “It’s just a pile of wood.” He’s eying her warily, but it’s how Honey knows that he cares. If he didn’t care, he’d have kicked her out of the store already.

When she and Bea first arrived in Litchton, the stairs down to her basement were rotting. They hadn’t been replaced since the house was built– not surprising– and Honey’s family had mostly used the basement for storage. Since it was only a summer home, they didn’t have much to store. It was no surprise that the basement steps had rotted through, but it was a surprise when Bea went down the steps while exploring and fell right through the last four. Being eighteen-year-old girls, they hadn’t know what to do, so they’d come down to the hardware store and begged the grumpy old man behind the counter for help. He’d shown up the next day to fix the steps, rebuilding them completely, and Earl had felt a duty to protect the girls ever since. Honey and Bea agree that he’s like the grandfather they never had.

“How did you know?” Honey asks carefully.

“He told me that they play hockey the first time I met him,” Earl says. “I didn’t ask, but he told me anyway. That boy looks like he can’t keep a secret.”

Honey knows what he means. Earl shouldn’t know. Bea wouldn’t tell, Vera shouldn’t even know, though it’s possible that she assumes, and Earl doesn’t talk to the other guys. Honey certainly didn’t tell him. Maybe– God, she hates that she immediately jumps to the worst possible solution– Trevor went back on his word. Maybe he broke his promise. He could have told Earl. Honey wants to believe that he didn’t, but… things aren’t looking good.

Now she’s starting to get anxious.

“You know what I mean, Earl,” Honey says quietly, scuffing her shoe against the ground. “How did you know about… him and me?”

Earl heaves out a sigh. He puts a hand on Honey’s shoulder. “When I saw Vera in Scruffy’s fifty-four years ago, I was sure that she was the one for me. You know how I hate this oo-ey, gooey sentimental shit, but when a person knows, they know. I waited for her outside of the church every Sunday. I would call her every day after work. If she’d had a job back then, I’d have shown up there, too. When she told me that that boy had started making excuses to see you, I knew. He’s got it bad for you, girl.”

Honey shifts the sticks in her arms and scrunches her face, turning away from the man. “I don’t know, Earl…”

“Bah, you don’t need to know yet.” Earl removes his hands and waves her off. “You’re young.”

Honey laughs a little bit. “I’m older than you were when you married Vera.”

“It’s a different time now. You take as long as you need, Honey.” Earl claps her shoulder. “Just don’t take too long. Vera’s looking at dresses for the wedding. She and Scarlett want to write a toast, but I told her not to start all’a that just yet. Now, go on and get, I know Bea’s not going to be happy with you if her coffee gets cold.”

Honey’s glad to leave, glad to escape this conversation, which has turned to something much more serious. She had one date with Trevor– not even. She had half a date with Trevor and people around town are already talking about marriage. She knows that the ladies like to speculate and enjoy their gossip, even making up stories sometimes, but it’s making her skin crawl that it’s gone this far. She’s so happy to escape that she doesn’t think about how foolish she probably looks, carrying five wooden hockey sticks down the main road, until she struggles to open the door to the café.

As she struggles with the handle, she sees a hand appear on the other side. It pushes the door open and holds it for her. “Thanks,” Honey says, rushed but grateful. She looks up to smile at the person, finding that it was Quinn. She relaxes. “Oh, thank God,” Honey sighs. She pushes the armful of sticks into Quinn’s chest. “You can hold onto these. Earl made them for you guys. Now I don’t have to make a trip to the rental house.” Honey looks around, trying to spot any of the other guys. “Are you the only one here?”

“Yeah, Bea wanted us to talk,” Quinn says sheepishly, juggling the sticks in his arms uncomfortably. “She sent you over here so I could apologize. She told me your coffee order– we’re at that table.” He jerks his chin towards the wall to her left, past the counter. It’s got a vase of flowers on the tabletop, the glass of the vase wrapped with a big white bow. “It’s not just because it’s Bea’s idea, though. I wanted to talk to you too.”

Honey furrows her brow, eying Quinn the same way that Earl eyed her when her brain stalled at the idea of him making hockey sticks for the boys. She still hasn’t fully processed it. Honey is just surprised that Earl cares enough about these random men, who had never been to or heard about Litchton two months ago, to make them hockey sticks. It’s not easy to make a hockey stick, not that Honey ever tried. She just assumes. But, she’s getting stuck on that– Quinn has to talk to her?

They walk over towards the table. Honey sits across from Quinn’s black coffee mug– that’s not her drink. She prefers it with a little sweetness, thank you very much. She waits for Quinn to lean the hockey sticks against the wall and sit before she questions him.

“What do you have to talk to me about?” Honey asks, audibly guarding herself and overthinking what Quinn could have to say. She groans, looking at Quinn’s grimace. She interrupts him before he can speak. “Don’t tell me you got her pregnant. I know you’re into the whole ‘marriage and babies’ thing, Q, but we’re so young.”

Quinn’s mouth opens in surprise and he blushes. “No, I didn’t get her pregnant,” he replies. “She’s on birth control, you’re the one who goes to the clinic with her every three months.”

“The shot is only like 96-99% effective,” Honey tells him. “People can get pregnant even when they take it. I don’t know how powerful your sperm is.”

Alarm passes through Quinn’s eyes. “Let’s not talk about my sperm,” he says, voice rising from discomfort. “I think that’s a topic that you and I never need to discuss.”

Honey rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine. So, you’re not pregnant. That’s good. What would you need to apologize for, then?”

“Look,” Quinn says, getting straight to the point. “About last night. I didn’t mean to ruin your date. I just wasn’t thinking about anything other than getting Trevor back for his role in my break with Bea.”

Honey starts to chuckle. “Quinn, it’s really fine. I’m not upset about the date getting cut short. I’d be mad at you if the boys actually caught us, but they didn’t, so it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, though,” Quinn tells her. “It was just selfish of me. It’s lucky that the boys didn’t catch you, yeah, but I had every intention for them to catch you. I wanted them to chirp Trevor and embarrass him, but I wasn’t thinking about how it would embarrass you, too. I’m sorry about that.” He taps the vase of flowers in front of him. “I got you flowers as an apology. Bea said you like lilies.”

Honey isn’t sure what to say to the actual meat of his sentence, so she inspects the flowers instead. They’re white with big green leaves and they’re very pretty. She wishes flowers could live forever, because she’ll hate to see these ones die. “Thanks, Quinn. I do like lilies.”

They fall into silence for a moment. Honey toys with the flowers and Quinn traces the handle of his coffee mug. After a little bit, he speaks. “I really do want you guys to get together, you know. You’re really good for Trevor. He’d be really lucky to have you as his girlfriend.”

“We’re not labeling it,” Honey says with a shrug. “I still don’t know if it would work outside of Litchton.”

Quinn shrugs. “I think he’s willing to try a lot harder for you than he is for most things in his life.”

Honey taps the table, mulling Quinn’s words over in her head. He’s willing to try for her. Bea and Quinn want them to be together. Earl and Vera think they’re going to get married. It’s a lot– a lot– to think about and Honey’s just not ready to have such a serious conversation about their relationship yet. She and Trevor are hooking up, they’re flirting, they’re having fun, and they don’t need more than that right now.

There’s also the fact that her last boyfriend– well. Her last boyfriend did a lot of things. Trevor’s not likely to repeat Thomas’ actions, but Honey just doesn’t know. She’s not ready to jump into the unknown yet.

“I had them make yours and Bea’s coffees when I saw you walking down the street. I figured that iced would be better because I didn’t know how long we’d be talking. Do you want help taking them to the Nook?” Quinn asks. “I’ll have my hands full with these sticks, but I can try.”

Honey shakes her head. “No, that’s okay. It’ll be like a trade-off. Am I going to see you later for Luke’s date?”

Quinn hums. “I don’t know. Maybe. I haven’t decided if I want to stalk the little guy yet. I think you guys can just fill me in.”

“If you say so.” Honey stands and collects the vase of flowers in her arms. Quinn directs her toward the counter, where her and Bea’s coffees are waiting. She manages to balance those in one hand, spreading her fingers as far as she can to make a good platform for them. Honey and Bea had worked briefly in a restaurant together in Charlotte as hostesses when they were sixteen, so they became well-versed in clearing tables as efficiently as possible. Honey can hold plenty of things in her arms, if need be. She nods at Quinn and raises the coffees like a toast to say goodbye. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Really, Quinn, don’t worry about the date. Trevor and I will have another, if he’s lucky.”

“If he’s lucky is right,” Quinn scoffs, but he waves to Honey and returns to his coffee.

She leaves and heads back to The Reading Nook, delivering coffees to Bea. Enough time has passed that Sacha and Gillian have arrived and taken up their normal spaces. Gillian’s granddaughter, Emma-Kate, isn’t with them. It’s no wonder– she’s a rising sophomore in college on her summer break. She must want to sleep in. Honey doesn’t blame her at all.

They tell Gillian what they know about the date and Gillian repays them with her own information. Together, they’re able to piece together that Luke is taking Emma-Kate to the Mexican restaurant and then they’ll hang out for a bit. Luke has commandeered Quinn’s car for the night, able to pick up Emma-Kate and drop her off when they’re done hanging out. Gillian is about as excited as Honey and Bea are, even asking if she can tag along on their mission tonight. The girls laugh good-naturedly, and so does Gillian, so it’s evident that she was messing around with them. It’s good– Honey doesn’t have the heart to tell her no. It would have been kind of hard to hide Gillian as they stalked. She’s not exactly the quiet type.

After the ladies leave, the day flies by. Honey and Bea close up the store in record time, trying to get to Mexico before Luke and Emma-Kate do. They succeed and they explain the situation to the waitress, who promises to tell the hostess to seat the pair nearby, but not close enough that they’ll spot the spying girls.

It’s cute, really. Luke allows Emma-Kate to walk in front of him as the hostess leads them to a table. He hovers awkwardly by her chair like he’s not sure if he should pull it out for her (he doesn’t– probably the better move, in Honey’s opinion. He shouldn’t come on too strong, even if he wants to be a gentleman). He makes sure she wants queso before he orders it and Emma-Kate replies to him with a little smile and a “who doesn’t like cheese dip?” It seems to put Luke at ease, because he’s more talkative at this one dinner with Emma-Kate than he had been in the first two weeks of knowing Bea and Honey.

Honey feels like a proud mother.

Luke pays for dinner, then the girls follow him at a distance while he takes Emma-Kate out for ice cream. They walk along the main road, licking at their cones, and Luke lets Emma-Kate taste his. He holds her hand. Bea and Honey are squealing when he makes that move, grasping at each others’ arms and bouncing up and down in excitement. They feel a bit like fangirls, hearts pounding like One Direction just walked by, but it’s all in good fun.

They go home when Luke and Emma-Kate go back to his car. Luke opens the door for her this time, which is much more acceptable at the end of the date. They drive off and Honey and Bea take that as a sign that their night is over. They each go home and Honey is all ready to go to bed when Bea calls her.

“Quinn says that Luke brought her back to the house and that they’re hanging out in the basement and that he won’t let anyone come in!” Bea exclaims, causing Honey to pull the phone away from her ear and wince at the volume.

“Atta boy, Lukey,” Honey says around a yawn. “Call me back if you have another update. I’m headed off to bed. Rest up for the pool bracket challenge tomorrow, buddy. You’re going to need it.”

If Bea calls her again later in the night, Honey sleeps through it.

59:90 – TREVOR

This morning, he was knocked into the loser’s bracket of the pool tournament. He faced Quinn in the first round and as much as Quinn likes to say he’s not good at pool, he’s not entirely truthful. He’s good enough to beat Trevor and good enough to be the third seed in the tournament. Since they have seven, one of them got a bye into the tournament. This bye was reserved for the best player in the house– Trevor’s very humble, very talented girlfriend. She gets to face Quinn next and Trevor hopes that she wrecks him.

He’s not past Quinn’s interruption on Monday. Trevor is handling himself well, though. He’s taking his frustration out on the pucks in the backyard. His slapshot is looking great and, honestly, he doesn’t want to fight with Quinn. Honey told Trevor that everything was okay, so he’s taking the high road. He’s letting it go.

Quinn can have his fun. Trevor’s still got the girl.

She’s laying on his bed while he sits at his desk. Her lips are swollen and she’s got an absentminded smile on her face as she makes herself comfortable against his pillows. He’d set an alarm for five minutes before noon, since that’s when he has to take the interview. The guys at the network are planning to air it tonight like it’s live, but Trevor can’t do an actual live interview. He’ll be on the plane when they air it. Honey has her lunch break off, a good hour and a half since Bea is covering for her, and she came over thirty minutes ago. That gave Trevor plenty of time to sneak her upstairs and get his mouth on hers before having to take this interview.

When his alarm had gone off, Trevor had complained and tried to sneak in three more minutes of kissing, but Honey had pushed him off and run her fingers through his hair to get him “all interview-ready.”

Tony and Ken, the interviewers, go easy on him; Trevor only has to answer five actual questions, plus a little shooting of the shit. It’s a quick interview, about ten minutes, just with the goal of promoting the Showcase.

Trevor gets to talk about his relationship with Hayden, who was the kid who inspired this game. Hayden was a few years younger than Trevor, but they’d grown up in the same program. Trevor had gotten to watch Hayden grow and flourish as a goalie. His friend Spencer, also a goalie, was as close as you can be to another player who’s five years younger than you. When you’re 21 and you’ve moved onto the national league, five years and an entirely different city makes your lives seem even farther apart. Without getting too much into it, because Trevor would rather remember Hayden for his good qualities, his friendships, and his abilities on the ice, Trevor wishes he had known that Hayden was going through it. He would’ve liked to check in on him. Who knows what it could’ve changed– maybe nothing, but he’ll never know. The point of this whole showcase is to promote checking in on your friends, teammates, and peers. It might prevent something terrible.

Trevor doesn’t say all of that in his interview. As open as he is about promoting mental health awareness, he’s not willing to have such a big “tell-all” moment on television. He’s not sure he wants to have a big tell-all moment with Honey right there– even if she says that being a champion for mental health is sexy. He’s still not quite at the point where he wants to talk so blatantly about mental health in his life. His own mental health has never been terrible, but he knows guys that suffer. It feels like their story to tell, not Trevor’s.

So, he sticks to the basics. He talks about the importance of talking with the people around you, especially in the world of hockey. He talks about how a lot of people are used to struggling alone and how they don’t have to, how this event is designed to promote unity, even if the players who participate in it span multiple teams in the NHL. Even if the players are rivals outside of the Shoulder Check Showcase, they’re friends here. They need to work together here.

He gets asked about social media, which is when he sees Honey shifting on the bed out of the corner of his eye. She doesn’t like social media– doesn’t have it at all anymore. They talked about it briefly a couple of weeks ago when Trevor admitted to searching for Honey on Instagram after they first met. The problem is that social media can help you keep in touch with your buddies, which is what this event is all about.

“I think social media can definitely blow little things kind of out of proportion,” Trevor says. He’s cracking his knuckles under the table, trying to keep himself from looking over at Honey. Her opinion is probably written all over her face, which will make him laugh, and he doesn’t want his audience to know that there’s someone in his room as he takes this interview. He’s able to steer the conversation back to the showcase– something he learned through the media training that the Ducks sent him to when he was still the face of their organization. He’s a little too brash for them now, and he doesn’t really get along with the coach, so he doesn’t have to do all of that stuff now. The media training never goes away, though. Once you know what you have to do, you do it almost mindlessly.

He wishes he was a bit like Jack, honestly. Dry and annoying during interviews, only giving the journalist the bare minimum before being cut loose.

At the same time, Trevor takes pride in his interviews because he’s better at them than Jack is. It helps to show that he’s more than just a pretty face.

Then, the interviewers start gassing him up. They talk about his interview from World Juniors a few years ago– completely off topic, but always welcome with how they’re praising him. He can see Honey pressing a hand to her mouth as Tony says that Trevor was “all swag, all confidence, totally self-assured.” She’s trying to stifle her laughter, but Trevor knows that she’s imagining a teenage and loserish, thin as a stick version of him who’s trying his best to be cool. He was young, okay? He’s allowed to be an idiot. She likes when he’s an idiot. It makes her laugh.

He’s distracted by her reaction as Tony finishes up his speech, turning his praise into a segue. Trevor’s supposed to talk about his message to younger players who are coming to this event, or watching this event in general. He stutters a bit on his reply because he can hear Honey’s quiet little giggles and he just likes her so much. He wants to get up and leave this interview and kiss her again, make her lips turn all bright pink and filled out until she’s complaining and he has no choice but to kiss her silent and make it worse.

“Just be, be good people,” Trevor says after a deep breath. “Be kind to each other, be nice.” He looks at Honey and thinks about Quinn, how he ruined their date. “There’s so much… I guess, negativity in the way sometimes that you can treat guys on other teams and whatnot, but at the end of the day, if you’re a good person and you reach out and, like I said, make contact, all that little stuff– it could mean the world to somebody and you wouldn’t even know it.”

He doesn’t need Quinn to apologize to him, but he’d like to know that Quinn is sorry. All Quinn said yesterday, after he showed up with handmade wooden hockey sticks from Earl, was that he’d seen Honey and talked to her. Trevor doesn’t know what that means. He told the entire group that he’d seen the girl as well, so it’s not like it was just about Trevor. Trevor had apologized to Quinn when he messed up and fucked with Quinn’s relationship– Quinn ought to have the common decency to do the same.

But. He’s letting it go. Honey said it was fine. It’s not a big deal.

He’s lucky that Ken turns the questions toward his team– he’s always happy to talk about the guys and how he gets along with them. His team is young, like Ken says, but that’s not a bad thing at all. They’ve got energy, they’ve got chemistry because they’re all in similar stages of life, and they all have fun with one another. Trevor loves his job, truly. It’s a constant go-go-go, but he works better like that anyway. When he doesn’t have too much time to think about other things, Trevor does his best. He can be focused on his game and diligent about improving. He’s just excited about this next season. The only part he’s not excited about is leaving Litchton.

Finally, at the end of the interview, Tony brings up Disneyland and compares Trevor’s hair to that of a prince. He laughs aloud, leaning forward to look at his locks in his camera. It’s all by Honey’s design– it was her hands that brushed his hair into perfection after she’d played with the ends while he kissed her. He licks his top lip and brings his hands through his hair, following Honey’s path and completely butchering the style. His part changes and the front of his hair puffs up, but he’s still laughing from the absurdity of the question, so he leaves it.

Plus, Honey’s got a wide grin on her face and her eyes seem to twinkle as she watches him fiddle with his mop of hair. He’s still laughing as he replies with a thank you, feeling his eyes crinkle. He appreciates the compliment, really. He likes his hair, it’s one of his favorite traits about himself. He spent a long time trying to find the style he likes and this one is perfectly Californian. It really makes him feel like an Anaheim boy.

He’s still smiling through the last question, something aptly about playing in California. It’s special, so Trevor says so. Ken and Tony let him go, Trevor thanks them twice more just to be polite, and then he ends the call rather abruptly. He always feels bad when he hangs up so quick– but he doesn’t want to linger awkwardly on the call for too long. The balance of the two is hard to find.

“Be nice,” Honey teases, mocking him in her deepest voice. “Be good people.”

Trevor rolls his eyes good-naturedly, shutting his laptop with a snap and standing from his chair. He collapses onto the bed with Honey, laying between her legs and pulling one of her knees over his hip. He traps her head between his hands, which are planted on the pillows to her sides. “You should take my advice,” Trevor murmurs before he resumes what he was doing just twenty minutes earlier, feeling Honey out with his lips. He’s got about fifteen minutes until Honey declares that she has to leave and Trevor intends to use every single one of them.

She talks between kisses. “I like hearing you talk about hockey,” Honey says. “You sound confident.”

“I always sound confident,” Trevor replies.

“No, you sound cocky,” Honey corrects. She tousles the hair behind his ears, twirling the long strands between her fingers. “When you talk about hockey, you’re confident. Not cocky.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You’re charming when you’re confident, you’re annoying when you’re cocky,” Honey explains. She touches his jaw, then sneaks a few fingers between their mouths to pet over Trevor’s bottom lip. “I didn’t know your hair was such a big part of interviews. Is your hair, like, your thing, baby?”

Trevor hums, pecking her fingers before nudging them away with his nose. He finds her lips again, trying to thank her for the pet name nonverbally. He likes when she calls him a pretty name, because she used to be so against PDA and pet names and silliness. Now, she leans into it. “I think the old guys just miss the glory days when they had good hair.”

“You’d look cute with a mullet,” Honey mutters before resting her forearms on his shoulders, pulling him closer. “Not like Joe Dirt, Joe Exotic… the other Joes with bad mullets. A tasteful one. Keep it nice and fluffy on top so I have something to hold onto.”

Trevor’s eyebrows lift toward his hairline as he pulls away from her. Cole had gotten a mullet while they were in Prague, the week before they came to Litchton. That feels like forever ago– and Cole’s hair has grown out since, so you can barely see how it used to be a mullet. He liked it, though, and tried to convince Trevor to get the same. Trevor had gone for a simple trim instead.

Now that Honey’s saying it, though… he might have to look into that.

It’s like his thoughts summon Cole. There’s a knock at his bedroom door and Trevor freezes above Honey, hoping that he remembered to lock the door. He thinks he did– if not because Honey was here, then for his interview. The guys are attention hogs and would try to interrupt him if they’d been able. So, yes, he did lock the door. Good. He relaxes a bit and kisses Honey once more.

“Trev,” Cole calls. “What time are we leaving again?”

“We?” Trevor asks. “I thought you cancelled.”

“Yeah, but then I felt like a flake, so I’m back in. Forgot to tell you. I think my flight is after yours anyway, but you need to drive me to the airport” Cole knocks on the door again. “Can we talk about this face to face or do you have a girl in there?”

“I have a girl in here,” Trevor replies, trying to sound impatient and indignant. “I told you I was inviting someone over from Raya earlier.”

“Oh, yeah. I thought she’d left by now. Okay. What time are we leaving though, seriously?” Cole repeats.

Trevor reaches over to the bedside table and taps Honey’s homescreen. He’s got about five minutes left with her. “We’re leaving in an hour,” Trevor says. “Now can you leave me alone?”

“No prob. Hey, Raya girl?” Cole asks.

Honey’s eyes go wide and she shakes her head at Trevor.

“Uh, her mouth is a little busy,” Trevor says as a cover-up. Honey’s jaw drops and mouths an adamant ‘No!’ at Trevor. Trevor shushes her quietly, shaking his head back at Honey as if to say ‘What did you want me to say?’ “What, Cole? You can say one thing.”

“I hope you didn’t drive too far for Trevor to kick you out,” Cole says. “But if you ever want to spend the night, Jack and I are willing to take you in.”

Trevor scoffs. “Not necessary. Bye!”

“I wasn’t talking to you, but okay, bye,” Cole replies. He bangs on the door once more before Trevor hears him traipse down the stairs.

“I hate you,” Honey hisses. “That is so fucked, I would never have a conversation with your friend while I was sucking you off.”

“You sucked me off in the closet while all of our friends sat on the other side,” Trevor points out.

Honey narrows her eyes, probably annoyed that she was called out. “That was different,” she defends herself, pinching the back of Trevor’s neck to show her annoyance. She changes the topic. “Well, if you leave in an hour, you’d better start packing, Trevor. I can’t believe you put this shit off ‘til the last second.” She shifts underneath him, pushing him to the side.

“One more kiss,” Trevor implores, puckering his lips and pinching the hemline of her shirt and tugging on it delicately. She likes it more when he’s soft with her. He’s more likely to get a kiss if he’s sweet about it.

Honey tucks her hair behind her ears and leans down to kiss him for a split second, pulling away with an exaggerated, cartoonish ‘mwah.’ “Satisfied?” She asks. She doesn’t wait for him to respond before standing from the bed and finding her shoes near Trevor’s bedroom door. She pulls them on, leaning against his wall to maintain her balance.

Trevor grins at her, scratching his chest over his t-shirt. “Never satisfied, but I know you have to go. I’ll see you Friday, right?”

“Mhm, we’ve got to watch the Olympics.”

Trevor nods. “Okay, then I’ll see you soon. Beat Quinn in pool for me.”

“You know he doesn’t stand a chance whether I do it for you or not,” Honey quips like a smart-alek, but there’s a tilt to her lips that has Trevor’s heart soaring. She’s going to do it for him anyway. She’s so lovely.

Trevor thinks about getting up to make out with her against the door, but she wiggles her fingers at him to say goodbye and disappears into the hallway before he makes a move. He’s sure to crane his neck to get a glimpse of the way the curves of her asscheeks peek out in those daisy dukes while she walks away– that will tide him over for the next day and a half, even if he misses her.

60:90 – HONEY

Rom-coms aren’t as fun without Cole, Honey learns. They’re watching How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days because it just came on Netflix for the first time in a while and, while Bea and Honey are giggling about young Matthew McConaughey, Luke is staring up at the TV with a blank look on his face and Jack and Quinn are talking about how interesting his biography was when they read it. Not even Bea’s wiggling on Quinn’s lap distracts him. He just stills her with a heavy hand and continues talking over Andie Anderson.

Cole would be shushing them and complaining about the disrespect they’re showing to one of David Petrie’s best works. He’d be able to shush the boys with a nice point about how this movie is a look into the male and female psyche, which would bother Jack enough that he actually starts to pay attention, just to disprove Cole. He won’t be able to, but it’s a tactic that works every time.

It doesn’t work when Honey tries it.

It doesn’t work when Bea tries to shush Jack. Jack tells her that she’s not having sex with him anymore, so her “sister-in-law status” isn’t enough to keep him quiet.

Then, Quinn tells him to shut up, and Jack does. Thank you, Quinn.

“I think it’s funny that this happens over ten days,” Bea says about thirty minutes into the film. They’ve gone through all the exposition and they’re finally getting into the meat of it, and Andie Anderson has just told Mr. Benjamin Barry that she’s going to make him wish he was dead. It’s funny. Cole would love this shit. Trevor would love it even more– probably telling Honey after the fact about how he identified with Ben and how their relationship is soooo the same. He’s a goof and Honey kind of wishes he was here, but she knows that he’s having a good time in Connecticut.

She could tell from the way he talked with his interviewers yesterday that he really loves this cause. He’s much more professional than Honey thought he’d be, given how unserious he is when he’s with her. After all, he’d been tickling her sides with his big ol’ hands while he pressed her into the mattress. He’d put his thigh between her legs like she’d needed something to grind on, as if a few kisses would get her hot when she had to go back to work after his interview. He’d mostly just laid on top of her like he wanted to trap her in place. She can imagine him now, laying atop her and rubbing his face against her tits just like Ben does to Andie after getting punched.

She imagines Trevor, sure, but any of the boys would do it. Honey especially thinks that Jack would seize the opportunity to nuzzle his girlfriend’s tits when hurt, like a magic touch that heals everything. He’s so stupid. It’s boy behavior.

“I think it’s funny that you’re surprised it takes place over ten days,” Jack quips back to Bea. “Only took you fifteen to hook up with me, Quinn, and Cole.”

Bea sticks her tongue out at Jack and wraps her arms around Quinn’s neck, refusing to deign Jack with an actual response.

They actually watch the movie for a while. Bea says she’d like for someone to teach her how to ride a motorcycle, but only if it’s like that. Quinn offers, but Bea starts giggling and reminds him that he doesn’t know how to ride a motorcycle, much less drive one and teach her how to do the same.

During the same scene, Honey stares at the big, blue, suspension-cable bridge in the background. She doesn’t know the name of it, nor has she ever been to New York– much less Staten Island– but it reminds her of the Golden Gate Bridge. She’s also never been to San Francisco or California, having a bit of typical disdain for the west coast as a true-blood east coast girl, but her mind gets stuck on that bridge.

Maybe one day, she’d be able to walk along a similar boardwalk with Trevor and look at the sights. He doesn’t know how to ride a motorcycle either, but she imagines learning from him. Her mind then drifts to something objectively worse: Trevor with his hand on the seat of a bicycle, running along after it while the child atop the seat learns how to ride. They’re wiggling the handlebars and they’re telling him not to let go, and Trevor promises that he won’t, but he does anyway and the kid is able to ride a few hundred feet before they realize Trevor isn’t there. They wobble, lose balance, and fall over because they’re scared and lacking confidence, but Trevor sweeps them off their feet and hugs them tight, celebrating. In her own mind, Honey watches on and smiles. In real life, she doesn’t like how easy it is to picture Trevor with his own child. She doesn’t love how the idea threatens to bring a smile to her face– she used to daydream about this stuff a long time ago, with other people in mind, and that didn’t turn out as pretty.

Her mood is slightly soured by her favorite part of the movie, when Andie and Ben have their big romantic moment in the bathroom. Honey watches Andie tear up about how Ben’s mom hugged her, really hugged her, and she has to bite the sides of her bottom lip to keep herself from pouting along.

Honey can’t even think about talking to her own parents without her heart racing and her hands getting all clammy. She shouldn’t be thinking about what Trevor’s mom would think about her– or his dad, his brother, his sister, their dog, any of them. Trevor’s talked about his family in passing in the past, only ever when they’re alone, and he’s said how much his siblings and parents would love Honey. It makes her skin crawl– Trevor thinks of her outside of Litchton. It’s contagious, and it’s making her get too far ahead of herself, and she just… doesn’t like it. As much as Honey would love to talk to Trevor’s mom and see old baby pictures of her cute boyfr– flirtationship, Honey corrects herself before she can even finish the word, because it’s just not true and she doesn’t want a boyfriend anyway– it’s just not in the cards for them. It’s a summer thing and they’re having a good time. Honey doesn’t want to get ahead of herself because, well, when she gets ahead of herself, things go wrong.

Maybe she’s better watching rom-coms with Cole in the room because he keeps the atmosphere focused on the com part of things. Otherwise, she starts to think too much about the rom part of things.

The end of the movie doesn’t even hit like she wants it to. Normally, she’s unimpressed by the big fight they have outside the party. Honey is used to saying “They’re both pissed off because of their own actions.”

God, she’s going to have to tell Trevor it’s over soon. She’s going to have to tell him goodbye in a month. Honey’s going to be just as miserable as Andie, but not nearly as pretty in her outfit. Honey isn’t the one who owns a knockoff version of that dress, Bea is. Besides– what does this even matter? The only people who know about the relationship are Bea, Quinn, and apparently the speculative townsfolk in Litchton. They’ll all forget about it eventually.

Honey welcomes Jack’s talk once the movie ends. He strikes up a game of ‘BS’ in true Cole fashion, but it’s only a few minutes until he manages to say something that pisses her off.

“Would you guys ever do something like that?” He asks. “Date someone for ten days for an ultimatum?”

“I fucked you for a few weeks to see if we could improve your time,” Bea says nonchalantly, digging through her stack of cards. “Two Queens.”

“Bullshit,” Jack says, pinching his brows together.

“It’s not bullshit, I actually put down two queens,” Bea says.

“No, it’s bullshit that you only fucked me to improve my time. That’s not the reason. You wanted to collect everyone, Bea.”

Bea hums. “I’ll give you that one.”

“One King,” Quinn says. Honey has three, so maybe he was the person with the other king. She’ll let it slide.

“I don’t think I’d fuck anyone for an ultimatum,” Luke says. “That doesn’t seem like a good time for anyone.”

“I agree with Luke. One Ace,” Honey says, placing her cards down. She’s lying. She put down one of her Kings. Bea narrows her eyes at Honey, but doesn’t call her out.

“Three twos,” Luke adds.

“Bullshit,” Jack calls.

Luke groans and takes the stack of cards, organizing his hand.

“One three. How was Emma-Kate, Lukey?” Jack asks. “You didn’t tell the girls yet.”

“We didn’t do anything,” Luke says with a shrug. “We hung out. I kissed her one time when I dropped her off. There’s nothing to tell.”

“You were really sweet when you bought her that ice cream,” Bea tells Luke. “I liked when you let her try the flavor you got. That was cute.”

Luke makes a face. “I was hoping you were kidding when you said you’d be following me around.”

“One four, and no, we weren’t kidding. Honey and I had a very enjoyable Mexican dinner. Good choice of restaurants, Lukey.”

“Two fives,” Quinn says.

“Bullshit,” Honey tells him.

Quinn glares at her, but takes the pile and adds it to his hand.

“You probably would, Jack. You want to be McConaughey so bad,” Honey continues. She shuffles through her hand and plucks out her sole six. “One six.”

“Oh, don’t act so holier than thou,” Jack teases. “Whatever happened to that guy you were seeing? When we all smoked together and you left? Don’t tell me you were using him for sex.”

“For your information, I’m still seeing him,” Honey replies, her voice hard. “Not that it’s your business at all.”

“Three sevens.” Luke sniffs after putting his cards down.

“Bullshit,” Quinn says.

“Fine,” Luke groans.

“Maybe stop wiping your nose every time you lie, Luke,” Quinn suggests.

“An eight.” Jack holds his cards against his chest and tilts his head at Honey. “So you’re not fucking this dude to annoy Trevor?”

“Why would I fuck someone to annoy Trevor,” Honey deadpans.

“‘Cause he’s fucking people to annoy you,” Jack replies.

“If Trevor’s fucking people to annoy Honey, he’s got some weird priorities,” Bea says, glancing over at Honey. “A nine.”

Two tens from Quinn.

“One Jack.” Honey crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not really interested in who Trevor’s fucking. Can we move on?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I wanted to tell you, though, it’s kind of funny. Yesterday, the Raya girl he invited over had the same car as you. He’s got a type, eh?” Jack grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

Fuck, I hope he didn’t look at my license plate, Honey thinks. She pinches her knee to distract herself from his words. She thought about parking in the thicket where she and Trevor smoked a few weeks ago, but decided that it didn’t really matter that much because she didn’t want to walk so far. Quinn was right when he caught Honey and Trevor in the hot tub– they’re not being careful enough. They’re both at fault.

“It’s not an uncommon car.” Honey shrugs.

Luke looks between the two of them, head swiveling. “You done?” He asks. Honey cuts her eyes at him, then nods. “Cool. One Queen.”

“Bullshit,” Honey challenges. It’s not bullshit and she has to take the hand.

Quinn wins the game after a dozen more bullshits. It’s getting dark, so Honey leaves for home. She calls Trevor in the car, hoping that he’s done with the Showcase by this hour. He doesn’t answer, which is a letdown, but Honey is sure she’ll talk to him later. She’s still thinking about what it would be like to meet his mom– Trevor sent her a picture with his family this morning, gloating about how he didn’t have to pay for breakfast today. She’d texted him back that she was jealous, but that was it.

She misses him, really. It’s bizarre how weird the house feels with just the Hughes boys in it. Whatever– he’ll be back tomorrow. Maybe she will cut her sex ban short like he wanted. She needs to get fucked so that she stops thinking about their future and remembers what their relationship is really about– mutual pleasure and fun. That’s it. Dates be damned– they’re just part of the fun, it’s not like they really mean anything.

61:90 – TREVOR

Trevor has never been so excited to see his girlfriend. He’s about ten minutes from the house, white-knuckling the steering wheel because Cole is once again trying to perfect his high harmonies. He doesn’t even know the words to the songs that are playing on the radio, but he sings anyway. It’s getting really tiring. This is why Trevor doesn’t drive long distances with Cole– he’s fine sharing a cart during golf, but longer than that and he’s overstimulated.

He’s starting to understand why Quinn kept a hand on Bea at all times after he got back from the NHL Awards. Trevor wants nothing more than to put Honey on his lap and keep her there all night.

They’re going to arrive at the house late, so Trevor had Honey promise that she wouldn’t watch the Olympics without him. They’re going to run some replays, especially of the opening ceremony, which was the event that Honey actually wanted to watch. She’s excited to see Aya Nakamura perform, a singer that Trevor has never heard of before. For Honey’s sake, he hopes it’s good.

When he and Cole pull up to the house, the sun is about to finish setting through the trees on the edge of their property. When they enter the house, Trevor can hear the Hughes brothers and the girls hollering about something in the basement. He can’t decipher what they’re saying at first, but then Honey shrieks in celebration and Trevor comes to the conclusion that they’re working towards the finals of the pool competition– and Honey just advanced.

They had all decided as a group that they wouldn’t hold the finals until Trevor and Cole got back. They’d also start the loser’s bracket tonight during the Olympics, which Trevor is securely a part of, having lost in the first round to Quinn. Honey did avenge him, that much is obvious with the way she’s cheering. She’ll be facing Jack or Luke in the finals– Trevor’s not sure which Hughes won the semifinal– and the loser will be facing Quinn for third place. He has to face Cole to decide who gets fifth place, but Trevor doesn’t care that much. He’s honestly rather watch Honey win the whole thing and take sixth without a fight.

He’s missed her. In all actuality, it’s been 48 hours since he’s left, and he’s been thinking about her like he’s been gone all season. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do when he leaves at the end of August and starts prepping for his nine month long hockey season. This might be the thing that Bea was talking about– caring too much? The difference is that Trevor isn’t going to let his relationship slip away because he’s afraid of his own feelings.

She’s radiant when he walks down the stairs. She’s got her hands in the air and she’s dancing around Quinn, whooping a bit. She had her cue raised above her head, but she lowers her hands to poke Quinn in the back. He frowns at her and swivels around so that she’s in front of him. Trevor gets a good look at the blue, chalky polka dots that stain his white t-shirt. Honey’s smile is wide and toothy and Trevor automatically takes a step toward her before he catches himself and stops near the couch.

“Third place isn’t too shabby, Quinn,” Trevor says.

“He didn’t get third place yet,” Jack grumbles. Trevor takes it as a sign that Jack is the other half of that match. They’ll go next, so Jack steals Honey’s cue and claims that it’s good luck to use that stick.

Honey tells him that if it really makes him feel better, he can use her stick, but she doesn’t think it’s the stick that’s lucky. Then, she turns to Trevor, beaming. “How was the trip?” She looks over to Cole, but Trevor knows that it’s to make up for the fact that she smiled at him first. “Did you win?”

Cole laughs. “No one really wins at Shoulder Check, Hon.”

Trevor smirks. “He’s only saying that because his team lost, technically.”

“It was a scrimmage for charity, that hardly counts as a loss,” Cole denies, frowning deeply. “I’ll show you a loss, Trevor. We’ve got to finish this tournament. You’re going down– you’ll be the second-worst pool player in the house by the time I’m done with you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Trevor laughs. “I’m going to run upstairs and take a quick shower while Jack and Quinn play. You can beat me then.”

He walks up the stairs and all the way to his room, fully intending to take a shower and wash off the lingering germs from the airport. He always gets sick after flying somewhere, unless he’s flying on the plane with the team, but he doesn’t want to get sick when he’s only got a few weeks left with Honey. Trevor is admittedly a baby when it comes to the common cold and, as fun as it would be to have Honey play nurse for him and take care of him, Trevor would rather hang out with her while they’re healthy.

The shower is heating up and Trevor has stripped down to his boxers by the time his bedroom door opens, making him jump in surprise before he realizes that– oh– it’s just Honey.

“Hey, baby,” Trevor greets with a smile. “So you made it all the way to the finals, huh?”

“Don’t act surprised,” Honey replies. “You know I’m the best pool player in this house.”

“I know that Luke’s been staying up late this week to train,” Trevor says. Honey’s crossed into the bathroom, so he reaches for her and pulls her in by her belt loops. “How were the boys while I was gone?”

“They were fine,” Honey says. She wraps her arms around Trevor’s neck and plasters herself to his front, leaving no space between their bodies. “We watched How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days. I missed Cole.”

“Anyone else you missed?” Trevor teases.

Honey hums, looking around the room with wide eyes like she’s pondering her answer. “Not off the top of my head,” she responds with a wide grin. She’s holding back a laugh as she blinks up at Trevor, trying to feign innocence. If she wasn’t being so coy, he’d probably be sporting a semi from the doe-eyed look alone.

“You’re full of shit,” Trevor tells her, bringing his hands around to her behind and dipping his fingers underneath the fabric of her shorts. He presses his fingertips against her skin, wishing it were enough to leave a bruise.

“I don’t think you’d like me if I was so easy,” Honey simpers, wrinkling her nose at him and leaning closer. She kisses him, soft and sweet, before he can tell her that he’d like her no matter what she does differently.

She distracts him with her tongue and her touch. She smells like vanilla, but it’s faint. She probably spritzed her perfume this morning and only the traces remain– Trevor wants to bury his nose in the crook of her neck and inhale. He settles for the press of her lips against his own because, really, it’s not like there’s a bad choice here. He loves kissing Honey. He loves getting to touch her. He feels so privileged every time Honey comes to him, rather than the other way around.

Her hands run down his front and the fingertips on her right hand dance along the script on his ribs. Trevor’s forgotten that he’s basically naked until he can feel her skin directly against his– that’s how powerful she is when she kisses him. Honey pulls away and smiles at him again, rubbing her thumb over his side in a way that raises goosebumps.

“We should never stop kissing,” Trevor decides. The words feel thick in his mouth, like he’s stumbling over them.

Honey throws her head back while she laughs, then presents him with another kiss. “You’re easy to please.”

Trevor hums in agreement, bringing his hands up from her behind to cradle her face.

“You’re also hard,” Honey mumbles, bringing her hand down and grazing it against the tent in his boxers. “Should we do something about that?”

“Has it been a week?” Trevor asks. Honey had seemed so serious during their date when she said he wasn’t getting any until his week was up.

“Close enough,” Honey replies. “I’m cutting the ban short by a day ‘cause I did miss you.”

“I knew it.” Trevor sounds smug when he speaks. He nibbles on Honey’s bottom lip. He can feel her boobs pressed against his chest, smushing up against his body. Ugh, her nipples are pierced under all those clothes…Trevor goes to pull her shirt over her head, but Honey stops him.

“No time, sweetheart. Let me get my mouth on you and you can get me back later.” Honey pecks his lips and Trevor doesn’t really see the point in arguing– yeah, he wants to touch her, but he likes this plan. He’s down for this plan. Honey digs her hand into his boxers and circles his length. A zap runs up Trevor’s spine at her touch, knees already a little weak.

He braces himself against the bathroom counter while Honey goes to her knees and drags his boxers with her– it can’t be comfortable on the tile, so Trevor knocks his towel to the floor for her to rest on. She gazes up at him and presses a kiss to his tip, licking over his slit with the flat of her tongue. Trevor melts.

“God, you’re good at this,” Trevor sighs, pulling Honey’s hair up into a ponytail. She holds up her wrist, which houses a black hair tie. Trevor takes it and struggles, but manages to loop it around her ponytail enough that it stays up. If Honey’s mouth wasn’t full, she’d be laughing at his effort and his mess. Trevor can tell from the amusement dancing in her eyes. He can picture her reply: “Well, you’re not good at that,” she’d say. Trevor adopts a high-pitch voice and says that exact thing, touching Honey’s cheek and tapping the hollow gently with his thumb.

She pulls off. “You’ve gotta get better at imitating my voice if you’re going to read my mind,” Honey tells him. She uses her hand to continue pumping him while she speaks, her spit slicking up Trevor’s cock nicely.

Trevor smiles down at her and pulls her closer, fisting her loose ponytail in his fingers and using that as a guide. Honey returns the smile before her eyes leave his and she focuses back on his cock.

Trevor tips his head back and lets his eyelids fall shut. He groans, low in his throat. “I take it back,” Trevor exhales. Honey cups his balls and rolls them in her palm, making Trevor moan aloud between sentences. “We should never stop doing this.”

Honey goes to laugh, but the action makes her gag on his length. Her throat tightens around him, which has Trevor thrusting forward only slightly to chase the pleasure. Trevor looks down to check on her, but Honey is just rolling her eyes and taking him as far as she can.

She uses her tongue to trace the skin of Trevor’s cock, teasing him in a way that brings him right to the edge within minutes.

The shower is still running, steaming the glass. God, if they don’t have time for Trevor to get Honey off, how is he going to have time to shower after this?

Honey flexes her tongue against the underside of his cock and his tip bumps against the back of her throat. She hums, a soft noise to get Trevor’s attention. When he looks down, Honey’s eyes are raised to meet his and her waterline is beading, making her look glassy and desperate.

“Shit,” Trevor says, feeling his stomach jump with the way she affects him.

Honey manages to open her mouth even wider, potentially even unhinging her jaw like a damn snake, Trevor cannot be sure, and takes the last inch of him. Her nose brushes against the hair at the base of his cock and she wiggles her tongue against him, swallowing as she does so.

“Hon-ey,” Trevor moans, slumping back against the counter. The granite digs into the small of his back and Honey comes with him, moving her mouth over his shaft enthusiastically. She’s exaggerating her noises, Trevor thinks, but he’s grateful because he likes the noise. He likes her little gags and her moans and her hums, partially because it sends vibrations along his skin and partially because he likes hearing her.

She takes his cum like a champ, her swallows stimulating his cock even further. His orgasm is simultaneously long and overwhelming and far too short. He wasn’t kidding when he said that he never wants to leave Honey’s mouth– they really should do this forever. If they can’t kiss forever, then he wants this. But, that’s also not fair to her. Maybe they have to 69 forever so that she can come all over his tongue while she blows him.

“Shower, baby,” Honey tells Trevor as she comes back to her full height. She plops a kiss on his mouth and he can taste himself on her tongue, his dick twitching half-heartedly. Honey pats his hip and gives him a little push toward the shower. “I’d say you have about three minutes until the boys start wondering why your ‘quick shower’ is taking so long.”

He rushes through the shower, really only wetting his hair and rinsing off the sheen of sweat that accumulated when Honey put her mouth on him. Trevor throws on some random sweats and a Ducks shirt before rejoining the group downstairs. Honey better not brush up against him or bend over for the rest of the night, because he’s going commando under these sweats and his hard-on cannot be confined by this fabric.

After his game of pool, in which he beats Cole for the title of “fifth best pool player in the house,” Trevor sits on the couch with a blanket over his lap so that he can admire Honey’s body while she schools Luke and wins the competition. Two months in and she’s still undefeated. Trevor’s girlfriend is so cool.

62:90 – HONEY

“I hate golf,” Bea sings, using the straw in her double Dirty Shirley as a microphone.

They’re on the thirteenth hole and the sun is starting to get really hot. Honey swears she can feel the rays touching the back of her neck and igniting it. Granted, she and Bea have been drinking since they got to the course three hours ago, so her senses are both dulled and heightened at the same time. Honey agrees with Bea. She also hates golf.

Quinn sends her a look, sheathing his 5-iron in his bag at the back of the cart. “We’re almost done. Drink your drink, babe.”

“We could be doing so many other things today, Q,” Bea complains, her bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout.

Honey knows what she means, but Quinn walks right into the setup.

“Oh, yeah?” He laughs. “Like what? We didn’t have any plans.” He rounds the cart to stand next to Bea, hands resting on the roof of the cart. He leans down to kiss her forehead, his lips curved upwards while he looks at her.

Bea snatches his Michigan baseball cap and sets it on her own head. “I thought that when you saw me in my golf outfit, you’d be more interested in fucking me in the country club bathroom. I didn’t realize this boring sport was more important to you than filling my pussy with your cum.”

Honey closes her eyes and takes a gulp of her own drink, feeling it burn her throat on the way down. When she opens her eyes, Bea has crossed her arms over her chest. It pushes her cleavage together, the v-neck deep enough that Quinn can get a good look. Honey watches his eyes fall and his Adam’s apple move with a swallow before he looks back into Bea’s eyes.

“You’re pushing it,” he murmurs, kissing Bea’s pouted lip before pulling away. “Let me finish my game, sweet-Bea, then I’ll take care of you.” He dips his head so that he’s whispering in her ear, but Honey is right there, so she hears him anyway. “And the outfit is perfect. Gonna crawl under your skirt later and steal a taste.” He pecks her cheek and walks away, joining the rest of the boys.

Honey curls her lips and makes a face at Bea, who’s beaming and hiding her big smile behind the rim of her drink.

“You’re gross,” Honey says.

“As if you don’t want Trevor to do the same,” Bea sasses, quirking an eyebrow at Honey. “Don’t think I didn’t see you touch his butt earlier when the boys weren’t looking.”

Honey scoffs. “I did not,” she denies. She did– he’s wearing some very tight, very short khaki shorts with his dark green polo and he looks good. If Quinn is allowed to talk about eating Bea out, then Honey is allowed to touch Trevor’s butt. “Maybe I just bumped into him.”

Bea blinks at her, unimpressed. “I saw you give it a squeeze and I saw him slap your ass when you walked away. You’re not very subtle.” She pauses. “But you do look good in my tennis dress, so I’ll allow it. I’d slap your ass too.”

A series of cheers erupt from where the boys are standing. It seems sarcastic– Luke’s ball must have gone off course.

Honey looks back to Bea. “Are we actually being obvious?” She asks. “Are the other boys catching on?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Bea sips on her drink, pinching her straw between her fingers and twirling the ice around. “If they are, then they’re really good at pretending they don’t know. I think the only reason I’m noticing is because I know that you guys are together.”

Honey screws up her face, sipping on the last of her drink. “Weird.”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Bea replies, sounding thoughtful. “I like that you’re acting all mushy-gushy again. I missed seeing you like this.”

Honey scoffs. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Bea says. She nudges Honey with her shoulder. “We used to hang out with Thomas all the time, and he sucks now, but you were so happy. You’re getting happy with Trevor, too. Have you thought about what you’ll do after the summer?”

“Last time we talked about this, we fought and you stormed away from me,” Honey tells her.

“Yeah, but I’m in a better mood now.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Honey mumbles. She turns her head and looks at Trevor, who’s play-fighting with Jack. They’re farther down the course now, standing on the greens and waiting for their turn to putt. He’s got a big smile on his face and his hair is flopping over his forehead. The sun is shining and it’s making his eyes brighter. He looks so pretty– and she doesn’t know if they’ll stay together when he leaves.

Cole comes over, putting his putter away after completing his turn. “You don’t want to talk about what?” He asks.

“Nosy much?” Honey replies.

“Yeah,” Cole says. “I like knowing about your business. I missed you while Z and I were in Connecticut.”

“That’s really sweet, Coley,” Bea praises. She steels her face, pinching her brows together in a very serious way. “But, you should never press a lady for more information if she doesn’t want to give it.”

“Sorry. Didn’t know,” Cole says. “We’ve never really had girl friends like that. It’s always just the boys and the girlfriends, never the boys and girl… friends. You want a new drink, Honey?”

“Yeah, I’m going to need one if we have five more holes,” Honey replies. “How long is that going to take?”

“You don’t want to know.” Cole winks. “At least, not until I get you another drink.” He walks up towards the path, where the bar cart is parked. There’s a long line in front of it– Honey understands, considering how boring golf is.

“Get two!” Bea calls after him, waving her drink in the air. “Wait, two per person! Put it on Trevor’s tab!”

Cole flashes a thumbs up at them, holding his hand over his head.

“He’s kind of got a dumpy,” Bea ponders as she watches him walk. She narrows her eyes, squinting as he gets smaller the farther he goes. “I wonder what he squats.”

“Not as much as me,” Quinn interjects from a couple of feet away. He grins at Bea, lifting his putter to point at her in a teasing manner. “Stop looking at Cole’s butt and come putt this ball for me. I’m going to teach you to like golf if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Ugh, I didn’t come out here to play,” Bea replies. “I came out here to drink and look pretty.”

Honey rolls her eyes. “He’s going to stand behind you and put his dick right against your ass if you go,” she says. “Go enjoy it. Maybe it’ll tide you over until the end of the game.”

Bea taps her chin, smirking a bit. “Good thinking, H.” She lifts her drink to her mouth and polishes it off, then twists Quinn’s ball cap so it shades her face. She hops up from her seat and starts to skip across the fareway. “Coming!”

Trevor’s walking past her to place his putter in his bag on the back of the cart and Bea catches his hand while she’s skipping. She twirls herself under his arm like a princess, making her skirt fly out prettily as she turns. Then, she continues to make her way towards Quinn, who welcomes her with a hand on the small of her back and a kiss.

“They’re, like, the king and queen of PDA,” Honey notes to Trevor when he nears her.

Trevor looks over his shoulder, seeing how Quinn’s guiding Bea’s hips so that they’re even with where she wants to hit the ball. “They really are always touching.” He comes to stand in front of Honey, one hand on the arm rest beside her.

“You know what he said to her just a minute ago?” Honey asks, shielding her eyes from the sun.

Trevor steps an inch to his right to block the sun for her. “No, what did he say?”

“That he’s going to ‘crawl under her skirt later’ and ‘steal a taste,’” Honey reveals, putting her fingers in air quotes. “That’s crazy.”

Trevor chuckles, exhaling through his nose in the tiniest bout of laughter ever. He looks her up and down, biting his lip and quirking his eyebrows. “I don’t think that’s crazy,” Trevor surmises. He brings his hand to Honey’s thigh and spreads them slightly, putting his hand dangerously close to her core. This skirt is far too short– Honey already told Bea that this morning when she put it on– but she still doesn’t stop Trevor. “I think they’re on the right track, actually.” He extends his middle finger and brushes Honey’s panties before retreating. “I think I’d rather get my cock in you, though.”

“Oh,” Honey replies dumbly, blinking up at him. She’s at a loss for words and she’s probably blushing furiously.

Trevor smirks, bringing his hands to his pockets. “I want you to come over tomorrow morning while everyone is at church,” he says. “Is that okay? I’d like to pay you back for the blowjob.”

“Okay,” Honey agrees, still feeling his phantom touch on her thighs. She squeezes them together, adjusting in the seat.

Trevor’s eyes flicker with amusement. “One more thing,” he says. He looks past Honey to see if Cole’s coming back– he must be, because Trevor lowers his voice. “I was thinking we’d christen your throne, Pool Princess.”

Honey swallows hard, staring at him. Cole arrives and hands off her new drink, placing the other in the cupholder for Bea. He and Trevor start chatting, pulling out the score sheet and tallying up points for this hole, and Honey is reeling from his words.

Her ‘throne?’ ‘Pool Princess?’ Trevor must have lost it.

It takes two more holes for it to click in Honey’s mind.

“He wants to fuck me on the pool table,” she realizes aloud, looking out the windshield as Trevor swings his driver and drills the ball down the course.

Bea squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, swaying a little bit because, face it, they’re drunk. It’s a good thing the boys drove them here and paid for all of this. Her eyes are a little glassy and tired, but Bea perks up when Honey’s sentence registers.

“Oh, I did that,” she says cheerfully. “It was good. Just don’t do it in missionary, because it’ll make you all achy afterward.” She giggles, taking Honey’s hand in her own and lacing their fingers together.. “This is so fun. We’re semen sisters! We’re fucking our boys raw in the same place, how cute is that!”

Honey bursts out laughing and can’t stop, clutching at her stomach. Her laughter makes Bea laugh, which makes her spill her drink, which makes Honey laugh even harder. They’re gasping for breath when Quinn approaches, eying them warily.

“What’s all the commotion about?” He asks, looking between them.

Honey points at him and falls into another round of giggles, falling into Bea’s space and burying her face in her hands to stifle the laughter.

“Sorry, baby,” Bea apologizes insincerely, a big smile across her face. “We were just talking about getting fucked on the pool table.”

Quinn’s expression morphs into one of complete surprise. It makes Honey laugh even harder, slapping Bea’s arm as she wiggles. She’s laughing so hard that it’s become almost silent– it’s not even that funny, is the thing. She’s just so drunk that the idea of fucking Trevor in the same place where Bea and Quinn fucked is hysterical. Quinn is shocked, and Bea has never had the best volume control when she’s drunk, so all the boys probably heard her. After a moment, Quinn turns to face the other boys.

“I’m going to take the girls home, they’re too drunk,” he says. “I’m pulling out of the game.”

Honey shrieks at the opportunity. “You wouldn’t know anything about pulling out!” She exclaims, waving her hand wildly at Quinn.

Bea reacts similarly, giggling so much that she’s rendered herself silent and breathless. The loudest noise she makes is the deep inhale that comes between giggles. She’s clutching Honey’s knee for something to hold onto, bending at the waist because she finds the joke so funny.

Quinn rolls his eyes and removes the bags from the back of the cart. He waves Luke over, who drives with them back to the club house. Honey and Bea are still laughing as they wave goodbye to the gangly, curly-haired boy, who is clearly trying to stifle his own chuckle at Quinn’s expense.

He’s got a job ahead of him, loading them into the car, and he brings them back to Bea’s house. Honey and Bea kiki on the couch, cuddled up under blankets and pillows and sharing gossip and jokes while Quinn makes them a very hearty meal of french fries and buttered toast. It was what they requested and he’d had to run to the grocery store to get a frozen bag of fries, making them promise that they wouldn’t accidentally start a fire or die while he was gone. They promised, Quinn left, and Honey managed to light Bea’s lavender candle without starting a fire at all, just to spite Quinn when he returned. He also makes them drink a glass of water for each drink they had at the course.

“You have the perfect boyfriend,” Honey tells Bea after he caves and makes a plate of fries and toast for her childhood stuffie, Moo-Moo the cow.

“I know, he’s the best,” Bea brags, tucking her hair behind her ears. She brings a fry to Moo-Moo’s mouth. “But, you know, Trevor’s not that far behind him. Especially since he wants to fuck you on the pool table– that’s hot.”

“You’re missing the movie,” Quinn scolds. He’s sitting on the floor in front of Bea, her plate of food precariously balanced on his head because she thought it would be funny. He holds it steady with his first two fingers, elbow propped up on the couch cushions. “You guys asked me to turn on High School Musical and you’re not even paying attention.”

They do their best to appease him after that, slowly sobering up. Honey gets sleepy and falls asleep shortly before dinner time, vowing that her ‘quick nap’ would be over by the time Quinn comes back with the pizza.

She’s wrong. She doesn’t wake up until the sun is down and the pizza is cold.

It’s still one of the best days she’s ever had in her life.

63:90 – TREVOR

Church is an hour. It’s a fifteen minute drive there and back. Quinn says they’re going out for lunch afterward. By Trevor’s calculations, he’s going to have at least two uninterrupted hours with Honey. After a week of no sex, and her mind-blowing blowjob on Friday, he’s got plans. He is going to fill the entire two hours if it is the last thing he does.

The plan is simple: Honey came back to the house this morning with Quinn and Bea. Quinn got ready for church, while Bea had gotten dressed at home. Honey drove to the house ahead of golfing yesterday, so she’s going to pretend to go home when the rest of them leave for mass. Trevor is going to have a headache, allegedly, so that he can stay at the house. Honey will leave before the churchgoers, wait five minutes, and then return to the house and join Trevor in the basement.

Honestly, at this point, the guys know that they’re friends. She doesn’t really have to go out of her way to avoid him just to keep up appearances, but Trevor’s fine with it. He knows the truth.

Something Trevor didn’t expect, but was pleasantly surprised by, is Honey’s outfit. She hasn’t changed since yesterday’s outing on the golf course. Trevor knows that it’s Bea’s dress because as Bea had Honey spin in a circle and model for them, she’d said “Who-wee, Hon! You need to wear my clothes all the time.” He prefers Honey’s little jean shorts because they’re her signature look, but he can’t deny that he loves the way the athletic dress falls on her body.

It’s short enough that it reveals basically all of her thighs, only leaving an inch or two to the imagination. Trevor knows he’s not the only boy looking, but he’s the only one that gets to touch. It’s a black dress that hugs her hips. The straps and neckline are a thin white, making a fun contrast with the other fabric. Trevor can see the silhouette of her waist and her breasts. She’s also not wearing a bra with it– he’s not sure how he missed her pierced nipples all the other times she went braless because they’re very difficult to look away from now. Her collarbones and freckled shoulders are almost entirely visible.

He knows everything that hides under her clothes, but the fact that it’s just out of reach drives Trevor crazy. He’s fully planning to keep her in that little black dress while he fucks her– bent over the edge of the pool table and presented before him. He gets a little lightheaded just thinking about it.

The image had come to him during Honey’s championship game. She’d been leaning over the edge of the pool table on her tiptoes, one of her legs kicked up for that extra millimeter of reach. She was biting her lip in complete focus and Trevor made the mistake of looking at how her jeans were riding up– he’d had to readjust the blanket to make sure no one could see the way his cock was twitching and fattening at the mere sight of her.

He’s sitting in the same spot on the couch when Honey comes bouncing down the stairs after the coast is clear. Trevor’s face automatically breaks into a smile. Honey walks to him, standing between his knees. Trevor brings his hands to her hips, sliding his hands over the stretchy fabric.

“I love this dress,” Trevor says. “You should steal it.” He leans forward and kisses her stomach, lips brushing the cotton.

Honey exhales a laugh and brings her hands to rest on Trevor’s. “I’m not a thief, but if you like it so much, you can buy me one.” She steps forward and climbs onto the couch, straddling Trevor’s lap. She settles her weight on his groin and Trevor is already reacting to her warmth. He brings his hands to her ass, palming her cheeks and squeezing. “If I’d had more time, I’d have gone home and put on my pretty panties for you.”

“Oooh, granny panties,” Trevor teases, bringing his fingers to Honey’s thighs. He’s building anticipation for himself by pushing his fingertips past her hemline and feeling her out first.

“Not quite,” Honey replies.

Trevor shoots her a quizzical look, but she just shrugs with one of her shoulders and grinds down on his lap. His fingers continue up her legs, but he can only feel skin. Trevor squints at Honey, trying to figure out if she’s messing with him. She can’t really be going commando.

“Thought you’d like the easy access,” Honey tells him. She’s toying with him, grinning wide. “You’re kind of freaky like that, aren’t ya?”

“You’re not wearing panties because you thought I’d like it?” Trevor asks.

“Mhm,” Honey confirms, nodding at him. Her hands have risen to his hair, like they often do when they’re just hanging out. She made fun of the question about his hair in his interview, but Trevor thinks that his hair might be her thing.

Trevor grins. He fits his palms into the curve of her waist and drags her closer. “You like me so much,” he brags before he kisses her.

Honey scoffs into his mouth, but she doesn’t pull away to complain, so Trevor takes that as a win.

He loses himself in kissing her. He always does. Honey tastes sweet, like she just ate something chocolatey for breakfast. He moans a little bit and Honey takes the chance to slide her tongue into his mouth.

“You’re so loud,” Honey murmurs.

“We’re allowed to be loud,” Trevor replies. “We have the whole house to ourselves.”

Honey makes an interested noise. “You should give me something to moan about, then.” She rocks her hips down into his, her pussy grazing the front of his shorts.

Trevor groans again, rolling his head back onto the couch cushions. “I want you to ride my fingers,” he says. “You’re gonna come on my lap, baby.”

“Is this payback for the blowjob?” Honey places her hands under Trevor’s t-shirt, on his stomach, and works his shirt up and off. She traces the ridges of his muscles, letting her eyes roam over his body like he’s a meal that she wants to devour.

“This whole day is payback for the blowjob,” Trevor says. “You deserve to come, like, a bazillion times.”

Honey bursts out laughing. “I don’t think I can come a bazillion times, Trev.”

“Well, we’re going to try.” Trevor pulls her back and Honey smiles into his next kiss. He pushes her skirt up, sliding his fingers down over her mound and into her folds.

She’s wet. Her clit feels swollen from all of her grinding against his erection. She hums when his thumb starts to circle the bundle, her body moving to meet his movements.

Trevor pushes the tip of his middle finger into her pussy, slowly working his way into her. He thrusts his finger in and out until Honey starts to fall into his rhythm, taking over.

“There we go,” Trevor mumbles, kissing down her neck. “That’s my girl.”

“Another,” Honey exhales, thumbing over Trevor’s jawline. She tilts his head up and kisses him again, sucking on his bottom lip and rendering Trevor’s mind blank.

“Ask nicely,” Trevor manages, just to be a pest.

Honey pulls back and glares at him. “Another, please.”

Trevor blows an exaggerated kiss at Honey, returning to her neck and sucking on the skin while he works another finger into her heat.

Honey rolls her head back and sighs. She closes her eyes and puts her hands on Trevor’s shoulders for leverage, fucking down on his fingers with purpose.

Her movements cause her breasts to bounce in front of Trevor’s face– captivating. They’re still covered by her dress, but Trevor zeroes in on her nipples. He bites his bottom lip, then releases it, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. Trevor wraps his free arm around Honey’s waist and drags her closer. He opens his mouth and licks over Honey’s chest, catching her piercing between his teeth and tugging. He wets the fabric with his spit, making sure to give both of her tits equal attention.

“God, Trevor,” Honey whimpers. She pulls him to her mouth by his hair, their teeth clicking together as they get too into it. Honey seems unable to decide if she wants to bounce on his fingers or rock back and forth, but she’s ferocious when she’s kissing him. She’s certain that she wants to do that.

Trevor removes his arm from Honey’s waist so that he can bring his fingers up and pinch her tits. If he can’t suck on her boobs, then he’s going to touch them.

“Another.” Honey feeds the word into Trevor’s mouth. “Fuck, please, Trev. Give me another.”

Trevor squeezes a third finger into Honey’s pussy and starts to flex them inside of her. Before, he was just allowing her to do the work and fuck herself to completion, but he wants to reward her for asking him for more so effortlessly. “Y’look so pretty, baby,” Trevor praises, laying back into the couch cushions and looking up at her with hooded eyes.

Honey keens. Her hands go from his shoulders to his waistband, fisting the fabric and tugging.

“Don’t be impatient,” Trevor chides. “You’ll get my cock in a minute, Hon. You just have to come on my fingers first.” He smirks at her, admiring the rosy blush covering her cheeks and the tip of her nose. Her bottom lip is trapped between her teeth, stifling her noises even though she knows they have the house to themselves. Honestly– Trevor doesn’t mind. Her little whines and moans are just as sexy when she’s trying to keep them inside and failing as when she’s outwardly and purposefully proving how good she feels. He circles her clit with his thumb. With his other hand, he caresses her clavicle.

Honey’s voice grows high-pitched in the back of her throat, a series of “oh”s and “yes”es falling from her lips. Her eyes squeeze shut and her jaw drops. Her fingernails scrape against Trevor’s v-line, marking the area in thin red lines. She mostly stops her bouncing, her legs shaking through her orgasm. Trevor won’t allow that, wanting to prolong it and overwhelm her, so he starts to thrust his fingers inside of her again, faster and harder than before.

Honey yelps a bit at the change, her right hand flying to Trevor’s hair. There’s a dull ache in his scalp as she clenches down. “Trevor,” she says, sounding indignant.

“Another,” Trevor parrots at Honey with a grin. “Give me another, please.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Honey groans. She bends down and bites on his neck, which only makes Trevor work harder.

He pulls her over the edge once more, actually letting her come down from this one. He draws his fingers from her and brings them to his mouth, sucking her slick from his digits. “You taste as good as you look.”

Honey touches him delicately, running her fingers over his body like she’s trying to memorize it. She traces his Nike tattoo– the statue, not the brand, thank you very much– and says quietly, “You know, when I was first thinking about getting a tattoo, I thought about getting this exact one.”

“Oh, yeah?” Trevor asks. “You know what they call that on the internet nowadays?”

“Hmm, what?”

Trevor grins. “That’s our invisible string, sweetheart.”

Honey stares at him, tapping his chest like she’s typing something.

“It means we’re meant to be together,” Trevor tells her. He says it like he’s joking, but he’s not really. He does think that he and Honey are meant to be together. He doesn’t want to come on too strong, though. “Forever.”

“You idiot,” Honey repeats, deadpanning.

“What, you don’t think so?” Trevor questions. He wiggles his eyebrows, which makes her laugh.

“Maybe if I’d actually gotten the tattoo, I’d allow it.” Honey wipes Trevor’s bottom lip with her thumb. “Let’s move on. I believe you promised me a christening?”

Trevor throws his head back, laughing out loud. Honey’s hand rests on his chest, feeling it move as he chuckles. He wasn’t sure how she’d react when he’d said that at the golf course, but her pupils had dilated like crazy and Trevor was certain that he’d hit the nail on the head. “Is that what made you and Bea go crazy in the golf cart yesterday?”

Honey bites back a smile and shrugs. “You’ll never know.”

Trevor pretends to sigh and complain, but he lifts Honey and carries her over to the table, settling her on the edge. He kisses her lips, feeling her brush over his collarbones and the line of his sternum. It’s the same as when she licked whipped cream off of him for Cole’s dare– that feels like a billion years ago, but the memory is still fresh in Trevor’s mind. It’s what started this whole thing, really. He feels like he can pinpoint that moment as the moment when Honey started to get on board with their relationship.

“Wanted to get one last kiss in before you fuck me from behind, huh?” Honey asks when they part.

“You know me so well,” Trevor answers.

Honey nods resolutely and hops down from where she sat on the edge of the table. She leans close to Trevor, her chest touching his, and there’s a close-lipped smile on her face. She pops up onto her tiptoes to give him another kiss, then she lollygags. Her hands crawl along his abdomen, as if she’s reluctant to turn around.

Trevor raises an eyebrow.

Honey just smiles. She bats her eyelashes.

What does that look mean? Trevor asks himself.

Honey seems to read his mind, because she rolls her eyes and exhales a laugh. “Trev, if you’re bending me over the pool table, you have to fuck me like you mean it. It’s your turn to do all the work.” She pats his side, pinching the words tattooed on his ribs. “You have to make me.”

Trevor stands a little taller at that, feeling his ego inflate like a balloon. “Oh, I get it,” he says. “You want me to take what’s mine.”

Honey’s smile widens. She tucks her fingers into Trevor’s waistband and pulls him closer, kissing him through the smile. “And you’d better make it quick,” she says. “We’re running low on time.”

Trevor brings his hand to the back of her neck, kissing her again, deeper this time. He licks over her lips and into her mouth, making contact with her tongue. When he pulls back, there’s a line of spit connecting them, but it breaks within seconds. Trevor uses the hand on Honey’s neck to guide her around so that she’s facing the pool table. As he draws his hand down her spine, he pushes so that she’s bent over the edge. Then, Trevor hooks his hand under her knee. He moves her body into the position he wants, bowed and open.

He flips her skirt up, revealing the smooth skin of her behind and her dripping core, already used and loose and ready for him. Trevor looks for a moment, drinking in the picture of the girl in front of him. He pushes his hips forward until his hard-on is flush with her pussy, dampening the cloth.

“Hurry,” Honey complains, trying to boss him around, and if Trevor’s supposed to take her, he can’t have her thinking that she’s in charge. Even though she won the pool tournament and he’s fucking her on “her throne,” she wants him to be the one calling the shots.

So he raises his hand and brings it down on her left cheek. Honey jolts beneath him after the spank, the skin on her ass burning pink before leveling out to her normal color. Trevor soothes her by rubbing the spot where he just made contact, leaning down to blanket her body with his own.

“Thought it was my turn?” Trevor tests, his voice a lot more sensual when he’s whispering in her ear like this. He pulls back when she agrees with him, sounding breathless and surprised by his words.

He wants to tease her some more, but he also wants to pull his cock out of his shorts and slide right into her cunt. He wants to feel it squeeze him and suck him in. Honey used to be so adamant about never begging for Trevor’s touch, but she takes him so eagerly whenever they’re intimate. Trevor has a feeling that her actions speak way louder than her words.

Trevor compromises. He removes his hands from Honey’s body to remove his shorts and his boxers. He fists his cock, stroking himself a few times while he thinks about what to do with Honey. He brings his other hand to her tramp stamp, pressing down on the skin until her back is arched as far as it can go. She’s on her tiptoes now, her other knee still hinged on the table, and her behind is raised as if she’s presenting it for Trevor. He designed this position, but he likes it because Honey is doing it for him.

His eyes catch on her slit. It’s pretty, pink, and shining with her arousal. Trevor thinks that it would be even prettier with a little bit of white marking her skin. He licks over his bottom lip and rubs his cockhead between her folds, watching how Honey’s shoulders relax and her ass rises just a bit higher.

“Ask me for it,” Trevor tells her. He loves this– giving her the things that she wants. He loves hearing her say what she wants and knowing that she wants him to give it to her.

“Fuck me already, Trevor,” Honey groans, impatient. She wiggles beneath him, then whimpers a bit when her nipples catch on the felt of the pool table, the competing fabrics probably sending shocks up her spine. Trevor knows how sensitive she is.

He brings his hand down on her behind again for the sass. “Be nice.”

Honey’s quiet for a second too long, making Trevor wonder if he did something wrong.

“Please?” She asks quietly. “I want to make you come.”

Trevor bends down to kiss her shoulder blade. “Perfect, baby. So good to me.” He pulls back standing tall and aligning his cock with her entrance. “You said you want it fast, Honey?”

“Fast,” Honey confirms, agreeing with herself via a nod.

“Hold on,” Trevor tells her. He brings his hands to her hips, knowing full well that there’s nothing for her to really grab onto in this position, and slams forward.

Immediately, Honey is gasping. That gasp turns into a moan as Trevor pulls out and drives back in. He keeps an ear out, always listening to make sure her noises don’t change into something less than pleasure-filled and wanton, but they never do.

He fucks her as hard as he can, pulling her hips back to meet his with each thrust. He’s gone mostly quiet, much like how Honey went quiet while she was riding his fingers. He’s focused on making her feel good, on keeping his rhythm up, and– frankly– on making sure his cock doesn’t fall out of her when he’s mid-thrust. There’s nothing so mood-killing as when you’re close and your dick misses the hole on what could have been an orgasmic thrust.

“Trev, Trev,” Honey pants, burying her face in the crook of her elbow.

“What, baby? What’s wrong?” Trevor asks, slowing his pace and craning his neck to see if he can catch her eyes.

They’re wild when she turns her head and tries to face him. “Don’t stop,” she exclaims, sounding betrayed. “Please, I’m close.”

Trevor’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ and he finds his tempo again. “Gonna get you there,” he promises. He digs his teeth into his bottom lip and claws at Honey’s skin, probably leaving marks from how hard he’s holding her. He needs all the leverage he can get to make her come for a third time– he’s nearing his own peak, but he wants her to get off first.

She cries out when he pushes her knee back up, only slightly higher than it was before, and Trevor sees her bite her knuckle to keep from crying out again. He likes how affected she looks, her body adopting a natural sheen and a flush that shows him just how hot she is for him and his moves. He tries to emulate the same move, driving into her cunt and bumping against her inner walls at the pace she wants. It all feels good to Trevor, and when she comes, it’s going to trigger his own release.

Honey chants his name when she crests over the edge. It bounces around his head like that damn bouncing DVD logo from all the TVs of their childhood, but on ten-times speed. She’s warmer and wetter after she comes, and her voice tapers off into something desperate and whiny, which Trevor would kill to hear daily.

He makes it through four more strokes before he’s coming, spraying his seed onto her walls. He pulls out so that he can paint the outside, too, leaving visual proof that he was there and she’s his.

They’re both breathing hard, exhausted from the intense encounter. Honey lays on the table and catches her breath, opening and closing her eyes in a pattern in which she seems to find comfort. Trevor keeps a hand on her, tracing over the dragonfly tattoo on her lower spine. He dares to go lower and touch her clit with his thumb, but that’s when Honey flinches and tells him that it’s too much.

They’ve got about fifteen minutes before Trevor expects the boys to get back. He takes that time to bring Honey back to the couch, helping her walk on her wobbly legs. He finds a rag in the basement bathroom and cleans her up, wetting it beforehand so the cool temperature provides her some relief. She wanted him to go hard– so he went hard. Not to brag, but that was probably one of his best performances.

He pulls her onto his lap and tucks her head into the crook of his neck. She wraps him up in a hug, arms dangling loosely around his shoulders, and Trevor inhales the faint vanilla that always surrounds him when Honey does. Next year, he’s getting a house to himself so he’ll never have to worry about the boys barging in and interrupting his cuddling time. Honey kisses his neck softly, barely a brush, and Trevor finds himself wishing he could stay like this. He’d freeze this moment in time forever just to hold Honey a little while longer. It’s not fair that they have so little time together, not when he’s never loved anyone the way that he loves her.

43 notes · View notes

bluewxrld07 · 1 year ago

Text

Cut My Hair

Cole Caufield x female!reader x Ethan Edwards

Warning(s): Angst, situationships, intentions of smut, hints to cheating

A/N: will be a mix of instagram posts :) enjoy!

Summary: Based off of Tate McRae's song Cut My Hair

celebrity.news just posted a photo!

liked by yourusername, yourbff and 18,796 others

celebrity.news Young and famous hockey star, Cole Caufield, seen at a club in Montreal after a post game win Saturday night! But the twist? The girl in the photos is NOT his girlfriend, well known social media influencer and future sports broadcaster, yourusername!! Possible trouble in paradise??

Click the link in our bio to read the article, and see all the photos and videos!

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user1 Oh no poor y/n 🥺

user2 She is literally the sweetest human being, that's so sad. I can't imagine how hurt she is right now.

user3 She must be so heartbroken right now, that girl in the photo is such a fucking home wrecker!!!

user4 I hope she's okay :( Cole doesn't deserve a baddie like her!!

yourbff just posted a photo!

liked by yourusername, edwards.73, trevorzegras, and 111,741 others

yourbff Heartbroken, angry, sad, confused. Those are just a few I feel for you y/n. He doesn't deserve a real girl like you. His loss baby, I'm so sorry. I'm headed your way right now, be there soon 💜

user has limited comments

user1 send her all of our love <3

jackhughes I am in awe. Let her know if she needs anything, I'll be there.

liked by yourusername

trevorzegras this shit isn't right. my heart goes out for her.

edwards.73 Lu and I are driving out right now. Should be there in twenty.

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colecaufield I'm so sorry

comment deleted by yourbff

*one month later*

yourusername just posted a photo!

liked by yourbff, jackhughes, edwards.73, colecaufield, and 457,596 others

yourusername Just wanna cut my hair, lose myself, make u sweat

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user1 omfg YALL WAKE UP, MOM POSTED

user2 the hair color??? the BOB??? HELLO?!

user3 oh boy if this is her silently @ ing who I think it is, he's messed up with losing her

yourbff oh what is this? best friend is blessing my feed???

liked by yourusername

yourbff this bob and hair color was the move, my work here is done

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jackhughes slay bestie

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jackhughes He's a dumbass

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user4 No because it is the fact that Cole liked this but didn't comment, speaks VOLUMES

user5 Cole done fucked up, she's about to slay this glow up

edwards.73 I'm bringing the vodka

yourusername please don't, I can't look at another thing of alcohol after last night lmao yourbff If he doesn't bring it, I will

yourusername just posted a photo!

liked by yourbff, edwards.73, colecaufield, and 601,978 others

yourusername just wanna cut my hair, little black dress, can't forget

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user1 I'm living for these Tate McRae lyrics

yourbff See??? I knew you'd post this one. Fucking hot ass best friend I've got, these men bouta be on the FLOOR tonight

user2 If she doesn't wind up under someone else tonight after what Cole did to her, I WILL CRY

user3 He be creeping on her page tho, I see his ass in those likes.......

tatemcrae a true goddess 😍

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lhughes_06 I'm keeping an eye on you tonight

edwards.73 easy easy, I called dibs first yourbff Both of y'all put your dicks away, and chill out? After all it'll be me who takes care of my girly tonight 😙 yourusername None of you are taking care of me tonight, I'll be fine 🙄 edwards.73 That's what you said last weekend and whose bed did you wind up in.... yourusername shhhhh 😳 edwards.73 lhughes_06 kept me up most of the night edwards.73 Idk what you're talking about lhughes.43 yourusername me neither

user4 Am I sensing a lil sum sum between Ethan and Y/n???

User2 If it's happening, I neeeeeed to know because I'd be here for it

colecaufield 😧

yourbff just posted a photo!

liked by yourusername, edwards.73, lhughes_06 and 301,473 others

yourbff Just wanna show you, whatever she do, yourusername can do it better

tagged: yourusername, lhughes.43, markestapa, edwards.73

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markestapa What a fucking night

lhughes_06 I think I need a cleanse after that fiasco...

yourbff You sure it wasn't from the lake you boys decided to swim in at two in the morning?

lhughes_06 Don't remind me 😑 yourusername You guys were wilding' last night lhughes.43 markestapa says the wild one herself 🤔 lhughes_06 Yeah yourusername where did you and edwards.73 disappear off to? edwards.73 Nowhere yourusername Nowhere markestapa where tf did you come from edwards.73 edwards.73 I saw I was summoned, so I entered the chat yourbff All of you get out of my comments and argue in the group chat

user1 Ohhhh boy I smell quite the upgrade for miss y/n....

user2 If y/n is seeing Ethan Edwards I will die happy

user3 I'm so curious as to what's between those two rn. Whatever it is, y/n seems happier than when she did with Cole

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colecaufield just posted a photo!

liked by jackhughes, kirbydach, trevorzegras, girlusername and 96,736 others

colecaufield Heard you got a new guy, that ain't fair

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user1 Nah because it's THE WAY he used Tate McRae lyrics from the same song yourusername has been using on her posts.....

user2 Cole my dude... she deserves better after you did what you did

jackhughes come on C you better than this

trevorzegras she deserves better bro, I'm with jackhughes on this one

girlusername See you soon 🥰

user1 lmfao this girl clueless as fuck user3 Oh honey.... you the home wrecker? sheesh.. user4 DAMN talk about a downgrade 🤣 liked by yourusername

user5 Y'all it's fine he's just depressed and in his feels because he be knowing he cheated and lost a good one

yourusername just posted a photo!

liked by edwards.73, yourbff, jackhughes, lhughes_06, trevorzegras, and 817,748 others

yourusername Just wanna get messed up, find myself, in his bed

tagged: edwards.73

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user1 I KNEW ITTTTTTTT

user2 now THIS is a pair I can get behind

user3 Their kids are gonna be literal heartbreakers wtf

yourbff about fucking time I was getting antsy. Now get dressed we have a brunch to go to today.

yourusername yes mommy 😣 lhughes.43 Can I call you mommy??? yourbff No yourusername No

edwards.73 Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry.

yourusername Have you learned nothing?? edwards.73 you never said I couldn't call you mommy😝 yourusername You're unbelievable edwards.73 Do something about it🤭 liked by yourusername yourbff LET HER GET READY YOU ASSHOLE OR WE WILL BE LATE edwards.73 trevorzegras JOJO.....?? HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING...?! liked by yourusername, yourbff, edwards.73

jackhughes I feel like I need to cleanse my eyes from that conversation thread I just read 😨

yourusername You'll survive

liked by yourbff, lhughes_06, yourusername, markestapa and 778,240 others

edwards.73 Good girls, so overrated

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user1 Wow now this is an upgrade. He gives her her OWN POST????

user2 Cole could never

user1 He was an embarassment

markestapa WOAH give us all a warning here fifty shades of grey!

yourbff Treat her like a queen, Edwards!!!!!!

edwards.73 No.... I'll treat her like a Goddess 🤩 yourusername How long did you wait to use that one? edwards.73 edwards.73 too long yourusername yourbff Long enough edwards.73

lhughes_06 Is the caption hinting that yourusername is a certified baddie?

yourbff yes edwards.73 yes yourusername yes markestapa yes jackhughes yes lhughes.43 Okay no need for the attack damn

yourusername My Eddy 🥰

edwards.73 My baby 😘

#cole caufield x reader #instagram post #social media au #hockey boys #hockey imagine #ethan edwards x reader #Luke hughes #jack hughes #trevorzegras #markestapa #romance #angst #Ethan edwards

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dior-roses · 1 year ago

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obsession, auston matthews

ꨄ︎ pairing: stepbro!auston matthews x reader

ꨄ︎ summary: he's a man obsessed, his mind replays any and every interaction he's had the honor to have with you. because let's face it, in his mind, you are more than just his step-sister, you are a goddess in his eyes. and who is he to not steal something for his earnings?

ꨄ︎ requested: yes/no

ꨄ︎ warnings: obsessive behavior, kind of dark(?), mentions of smut (like barely any, in my eyes), stepcest (do not condone, in fact, am highly against it), auston's lowkey got a god complex, a hint of reader being innocent, implied age gap (reader is 18!)

ꨄ︎ author's note: it's been so long since i've written anything and im so insecure in this so please love it! (give me validation). a self indulgent auston blurb (?) that came to mind when i saw this slutty little edit of him. please forgive me for any grammar mistakes to typos, for i wrote this while i was saying hello to my friend mary jane. much love to every one of you who decides to read this mess of a story, and shall we meet again!🤍

he should've felt disgusted with himself. his skin should be crawling with his current demeanor. the hairs in the back of his neck should be standing up straight when the idea briefed over his mind during the excruciating quiet family dinner that your parents force you guys to have nightly.

but he wasn't.

in fact, he was quite proud of himself, with how far he's gotten into this 'plan' of his. here he was, in the midst of the day while you were at school, attending your one out of only three classes you had to attend your senior year, standing in the middle of your bedroom.

he had taken the afternoon off, canceling his strength training, his excuse being that he was sick. along with his place of employment he texted you, the one thing that had been occupying his mind ever since he laid eyes on you. your parents having you guys meet, thus starting his obsession.

to their shock, neither of you were angry when your father announced that they had eloped. both of you sat across from the newly weds in a low light restaurant, with pristine christmas ornaments hanging from the ceiling. a little annoyed, maybe; at least you were. you never got the chance to ask him how he felt about the whole ordeal. but from what you could see, he was perfectly contempt with the major life change.

he shifts in your room, walking backwards until the back of his calfs hit the edge of you bed, causing him to plop down harshly with an anticipated huff. your pure vanilla sent traveled to his nostrils, and himself becoming encapsulated with only you. his hands laid stoic along the tops of his thighs, even though he wanted nothing more than to palm himself through his pants. he was already half hard, just by your scent.

his eyes lingered to your nightstand, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips at just how perfectly girly it was. a picture of you laughing with your friends in your camp counselor shirt from the past summer, your forgotten airpods, which he thought about how irritated you were when you figured that out, a small pout on your lips. god, he wanted nothing more than to feel yours against his.

he would be happy if it was just on his cheek, as a thankful gesture.

as he admired your dimples through the glass of the picture frame, he could help but let curiosity get the best of him. that's how he got here in the first place, right? his eyes trailed down to the drawer that was painted a darker color than the rest of the dresser, to perfectly match the rest of your room.

he hoped one day he could see if your room truly matched you– light perfectly balanced with dark. he already knew the light part was too good to be true, with your big eyes that light up at the sight of him, but only enough that he would notice. the way you blush if he gets too close to you, not that he creeps you out or anything, but the fact that it was a man besides your dad that was this close to you. even if it was your step brother.

you didn't know why you felt this way around auston, you didn't know what made him different from any other boy you thought was pretty. bust auston was so, so, pretty that you couldn't help but redirect your eyes to your shoes when he caught your burning gaze. your skin burned from what seemed like hour from when he would place his hands on your waist to 'move you out of the way'. and it had only grown with time, with how nice he is to you and the names he calls you that he doesn't seem to do with anyone else. 'princess', 'baby', or even 'doll' when he's showing you how to swing a golf club, on those rare, rare, days when he could finally persuade you to come with him to the country club just down the street. he even bought you your own little golf girl outfit, all baby pink and white, to perfectly match the picture of you he has implemented into his mind.

and you had thought you were going to look ridiculous, and you did, until you saw the way he looked at you as you walked down stairs where he was waiting for you. a certain glint was in his eyes the entire day, and you couldn't help but squirm in the passengers seat as he was driving. trying to descreetly press your thighs together to at least try to ease the pressure and throbbing that was happening down there. you didn't know what caused the throbbing but it was so strange and unfamiliar that you couldn't help but sniffle lightly, suppressing a whine at how uncomfortable you felt. but you didn't completely hate it. especially not when auston was right next to you, his large frame blocking the street lights that passed by through his window, his side profile creating the perfect tattoo of a shadow on your face, one that you didn't want to go away.

of course he had noticed his little girl writhing around in the passenger seat of his car. her soft thighs pressing against each other, all supple and smooth from imperfections. he needed to be suffocated by them, the image he wanted to die from was your shaking body from all the pleasure he was causing you, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as he sucked you clit in between his full lips.

he had completely forgotten he was in heaven, (your room), when he felt the pulse from his balls that he was about the cum, all from the thoughts of your innocence and his hand that found his hard on cock through his sweatpants. he didn't want to do that yet, not without the one thing that caused him to be here in the first place.

the most obvious place would be the dresser, so he head towards that area of your room, placed right next to your closet. and surprise, surprise! the top drawer just happened to be your underwear drawer. all filed with pale colored bras and panties, not that they were old, but because those were the colors you loved; all muted and quiet, instead of vibrant and loud. you was shocked you had some lace and he would've gone for those, but that's not what he was going for.

his mind craved something less out there and more reserved. something that he had seen tossed in the washer with his colored laundry load, a pair of your painted that were red with white little hearts scattered across the cotton material. a throaty groan came from his as he felt his cock twitch, being retrained by the boxers and pants he wore.

he could only imagine your ass being perfect covered in white little hearts, or even getting a glimpse of them as you sit down next to him on the couch in the living room after a long day at school. your school uniform only urging on his obsession– a short little navy blue pleaded skirt with thigh high socks, and the cutest little best he had ever seen. the way the thick knitted wool spread across the curves of your breasts.

god, he was nothing but a man obsessed.

#auston matthews #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey #dark aesthetic #stepbro!auston #auston matthews smut #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews fic #fanfic #romance #hockey boys #jack hughes #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #ethan edwards #luke hughes #mark estapa

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hallllllllllsy09 · 1 year ago

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BOOKTOK HAS FOUND JACK HUGHES!! Alert the police I’m terrified.

#GET A JOB #STAY AWAY FROM HER #jack hughes #booktok #new jersey devils #devils #hockey romance #nhl #njd #nj devils

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hockeygossip01977 · 8 months ago

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hi i just wanna introduce myself a little and tell u stuff about me i like to read romance book, i watch hockey a lot im a nyr fan. i met braden schneider before and i met jack at luke at the gala and i did see sammy there. i have a cat and dog and like to spend time with family and friends!

#hockey #romance books #hockey romance #braden schneider #jack hughes #luke hughes #ny rangers #pets #family #friends

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y2kdolll · 2 years ago

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hockey game outfits

#hockey #nhl #nhl playoffs #nhl players #boston bruins #nashville predators #new jersey devils #roman josi #brad marchand #jack hughes #hockey romance #hockey wags #wags #hockey game outfit #outfit board

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hottiesforhockey · 2 months ago

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no nut november ⎜q.hughes

pairings: quinn hughes x afab!reader genre: romance ⎜smut ⎜angst? warnings: no nut november ⎜teasing ⎜ mentions of a bet/deal ⎜mention of sharing sex life ⎜fingering ⎜light dirty talk ⎜quinn second guessing his life choices ⎜ masturbation ⎜finger sucking ⎜insecure reader⎜hints at breaking up ⎜p in v ⎜ swearing ⎜praise ⎜no protection (please wrap it before you tap it)⎜ synopsis: quinn makes a deal with his brothers - he never realised how hard this would be for the both of you. word count: 3.8k authors note: Quinn was the clear winner of my poll to decide who would star in this fic - so I hope all 39.6% of you enjoy. do we want a sequel? called dicked down december

(unedited)

DAY ONE

Quinn was only one day in and he already knew he wasn’t going to make it through the month. He knew now that he should’ve never let Jack drag him into the deal that most of the New Jersey Devils participated in every year - the winner coming out with a donation to the charity of their choice and the ability to pronounce themselves as “not whipped” by their girlfriends.

But Quinn was very much whipped.

Your whip was so tight around him, he could barely breathe as he watched you wander around the house in just your towel, grabbing your clothes fresh out of the dryer for the game later today. Quinn’s fingers twitched at his sides, as he resists the urge to reach out for you - knowing the only way he was going to get through this month was going to be by avoiding touching you at any and all costs. He wanted nothing more than to abandon this ridiculous bet and wrap his arms around you, pulling that towel away inch by inch. Every day, this month-long challenge to abstain from any intimate contact with you felt like it was going to kill him.

He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching as you glanced over your shoulder and flashed him a teasing smile. You knew exactly what you were doing to him - you had to know.

But how did you know? He certainly didn’t tell you, and he made his brothers swear to secrecy.

Quinn's gaze was glued to you, a mix of frustration and longing evident in his eyes. He tried to focus on anything else, on his suit laid out on the bed, or on his phone buzzing in his sweatpants pocket. Anything but the sway of your hips as you walk down the hallway - or the hinting smile you send him as you reach the doorway to the bedroom, inviting him to follow you.

The sight of you, so effortless and beautiful, had his mind completely tangled.

"You okay there, babe?” you asked, clearly confused by his discomfort and unwillingness to trail behind you. He nods his head with a tight smile as you shrug and disappear from sight, Quinn letting out a long groan as he rubs his hands down his face - cursing his brothers in his mind for what they are doing to him.

“One day down” he whispers, exhaling slowly. “Only twenty-nine more to go.”

DAY FIFTEEN

“One of you two must’ve told her something.” Quinn sneers at his phone.

“We didn’t tell her anything, I swear on my life.” Luke retorts, making the sound of Jack’s laughter ring even louder in his ear, as Quinn waves goodbye to some of his teammates leaving the rink after practice - Quinn’s frown deepens as Jack tries to compose himself, only to laugh even harder as soon as he calms down.

“Maybe she figured it out on her own.” Jack suggests one his laughing finally dies down, a few chuckles spilling out before he lets out a grunt of pain, presumably caused by the youngest of the brothers.

“Well she knows something - she’s never been like this before.” Quinn sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, a habit that’s becoming far more common since the month began. “She’s ravenous, any chance she gets she’s trying to take my pants off.” Quinn’s words set his younger brother off again.

“Look we promise we didn’t say anything to her - but maybe you should.” Luke suggests softly, the sound of Jack’s laugh quieting in the background as Quinn assumes his youngest brother walks away from the noise. “I’m sure she’d try to take things easier on you if you told her what you were doing - it’s for charity.” Luke voice is hopeful but Quinn knows that he’s wrong - his girlfriend would rather sell her soul then help him win a bet with his idiot brothers.

“It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.” Quinn says into the phone before hanging up not waiting for his brother to respond. Quinn makes his short journey home - his apartment only a five minute drive from the arena, the apartment almost silent when he walks through the door - Quinn surprised not to see you perched on the couch like you usually are.

The small muffled whimper coming from down the hall catching him even more by surprise.

“Babe?” He calls out into the apartment, sliding off his shoes at the front door, placing his keys on their hook besides the front door. He waits for a moment, another whimper cutting through the silence. Quinn takes slow, quiet steps down the hallway, your soft sounds getting louder as he reaches the closed bedroom door - the softer whisper of his name giving him pause.

“Baby? Are you okay in there?” He calls through the door, knowing that opening the door right now might be a mistake, but he can’t help his hand turning the door handle, peeking through the small gap as the door swings open.

Quinn can feel his mouth drop open as he watches your fingers slip inside of you so easily. Your legs falling further open against the mattress as you let out a long sigh, your other hand gripping the sheets. “Fuck.” Quinn curses under his breath as head shooting up at the interruption, your legs snapping closed your hand trapped in between them.

“Quinn? When did you get home?” You question as your cheeks burn a bright red, pulling yourself into a sitting up position slowly sliding your hand out from between your legs - your shirt falling from where it was bunched against your waist to cover you a little more.

Quinn opens his mouth to speak but clamps it shut against as he sees you reaching for the towel besides the bed, his body moving faster then his brain as he steps forwards, his hand clamping around your wrist as he pauses your motions, glancing down at the sheen of liquid on your fingers. Quinn smiles as you try to yank your hand from his grasp, your whole body freezing as he raises your soaked fingers to his mouth - sucking them clean, a loud hum resonating from his throat.

“What the fuck?” You whisper as he releases your wrist, letting the hand fall limply besides you as he lunges forwards, his hand clasping either side of your head as he attaches his lips to yours - the taste of yourself still fresh in his mouth. Quinn pulls away first, his hand knotting in your hair as he pants over your, your hands desperately clinging to the sides of his shirt.

“No, wait.” You whine as he moves to pull away, pushing the hair off your face as his eyes lock with yours. “Why are you stopping?” His thumbs stroke your cheeks gently as a small pout forms on your face, Quinn smiling as he leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips before pulling away from you completely.

“I just can’t right now.” Is all he gives you before he turns quickly and leaves the room - leaving you sitting on the mattress with burning skin and a throbbing pussy, the anger bubbling under the surface. You huff as you bed down, pulling your pyjama pants back on before marching into the living room behind your boyfriend.

“What do you mean, you just can’t?” You snap, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch him flop onto the couch, his face pushed into the cushions as he lets out a sigh. “Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” You ask, the room suddenly feeling colder as a shiver racks your body, your arms pulling tighter against yourself.

“No.” Quinn groans against the pillow.

“Really? Cause it seems like I’m the problem - Quinn I’ve been throwing myself at you and you don’t even look at me anymore.” You don’t mean for your voice to tremble when you speak but you can’t help the growing lump in your throat. “I just want you to be honest with me, if this isn’t something you want anymore.”

Quinn’s head shoots up from the pillow - his body scrambling off the lounge to make his way to you, your body stepping away from him as you hands wipe at your face. “I’m not going to be mad if you do want to brea—”

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence.” Quinn hisses, his hands reaching out for yours, forcing you to uncross the arms against your chest. “What on earth would make you think that I want to break up with you?” He questions, bringing your hands to his lips, pressing soft kisses across your knuckles.

“Are you kidding me?” You respond, a cold laugh leaving you before you add, “You’ve wanted nothing to do with me over the last two weeks - every time I try, you run away like you’ve been burned and not to mention you’ve been sleeping in the guest room. I never thought that I was so bad you couldn’t even share a bed with me.” Quinn flinches at the shaky breath you let out, the small hiccup as you try to hold back your tears.

“No, it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it, Quinn because I’m really fucking confused.”

“Jack and Luke convinced me to—” Quinn pauses as he watches your head tilt in confusion - your mind racing a million miles an hour as he tries to figure out how to word this right, but falling short as he blurts out. “It’s because of no nut November.”

A flicker of surprise crosses your face before a look of incredulous amusement takes over. You blink at him, as though waiting for the punchline.

“Wait, that's why you’ve been avoiding me? Because of… some dumb challenge?” You try to hold back a laugh, but a snort slips out anyway. Quinn’s cheeks flush, his gaze dropping as he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

“It’s not dumb. It’s for charity—Jack and Luke both dared me, and if I finish the month, we’re each donating a bunch of money to the children's hospital.” His voice grows defensive, though he’s clearly embarrassed. “I just… I didn’t think it’d be this hard.”

You raise an eyebrow, unable to resist. “Literally or figuratively?”

“Both!” he bursts out, letting out a frustrated sigh as he flops back down onto the couch. “You have no idea how hard this has been… and every time I see you—” He cuts himself off, cheeks going even redder, which only makes you chuckle harder.

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you tease, crossing your arms. “So you’ve been turning me down, not because you’re mad at me, but because of a bet?” Quinn grimaces, looking up at you with guilt in his eyes.

“Yes. I know it’s dumb, but I didn’t want you to feel bad. I thought I could just… tough it out without saying anything.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of relief and exasperation. “I don’t think I’ve ever dated someone so stupid”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, rubbing his temples. “I know. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. It’s just… Jack and Luke won’t let me hear the end of it if I quit now. They’d never let me live it down.”

You roll your eyes, moving closer to him on the couch. “Well, maybe I can make this month even harder on you,” you say, grinning as you trail a finger along his jawline.

His eyes widen, and he gulps. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. You’ve already put me through two weeks of this. You think I’m not going to make you work for it?”

He groans, dropping his head into his hands. “This is going to be the longest month of my life.”

You laugh, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before taking up ridiculous bets with your brothers.”

Quinn pulls you into a hug, holding you tight. “Yeah, maybe. But it’s worth it. For the kids.”

DAY THIRTY

“I can’t take this anymore” Quinn sighs as he watches you waltz around the room in your underwear, the sunflower yellow matching set the same he had picked out earlier in the year for your birthday. You shoot him a grin over his shoulder as you pull on the mid length dress, saving Quinn from drooling over your ass for any longer.

“It’s the last day Quinn, think of the children.” You coo, adjusting each breast to sit more comfortably in the dress, Quinn letting out a long whine as his threads his fingers through his hair pulling on the roots.

“Fuck the kids.” He grumbles, a surprised laugh escaping you as you make your way over to him - his hands instantly grabbing hold of your hips pulling you between his legs. His forehead dipping to leans against your stomach, your fingers gently playing with the ends of his curled hair.

“Quinn, if you can make it to midnight, then I promise it’ll be worth your while.” You promise, your hands smoothing down the back of his head and dipping under the collar of his dress shirt, rubbing soft circles against his back. “And with the jackpot combined that’s almost fifty thousand for the children’s hospital palliative care unit. That’s so special, Quinn.”

Quinn groans, his grip tightening on your hips, as he pulls you closer. “I know, I know… you’re right.” He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes smoldering with barely contained desire. “But you’re not making it any easier for me.”

You chuckle, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Just a few more hours. Then I’m all yours.”

Quinn sighs, releasing you reluctantly, his hands sliding down your waist before finally letting go. He leans back in his chair, watching as you smooth out the dress and adjust your hair in the mirror. The way he looks at you sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but feel a surge of anticipation for what’s to come once this night is over.

"Fine," he relents, his voice low and gruff. "But I’m holding you to that promise."

You grin, blowing him a playful kiss before grabbing your purse and heading towards the door. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Hughes.”

As you both step out, ready to put on smiles and charm for the last fundraiser of the year, you can feel Quinn’s hand settle on the small of your back, a silent reminder of everything waiting between you once the clock strikes midnight.

Quinn could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket for most of the evening, his brothers and their teammates admitting defeat and wishing Quinn congratulations - his hand tight in yours the whole evening as he watches the clock in the corner of the room, each tick of the hour hand building his anticipation.

“Quinn you need to actually pay attention.” You hiss in his ear, his fingers squeezing yours as the clock ticks to eleven thirty pm.

“I’d be able to pay attention if I could think of anything other then how good it’s gonna feel when I can finally put my dick inside you again.” Quinn leans his head down, his lips pressing to your ears as he whispers - your gaze instantly shooting around to see if anyone had heard what he said. “I hope you’re not attached to that matching set, baby.” He grins as he pulls away from you, the Quinn from the past month quickly replaced by a man you hadn’t seen in a while.

“Hey, we’re going to head off, she’s not feeling too well.” Quinn whispers to the table as the speeches conclude - his teammates immediately wishing you well, as Quinn collects your purse and coat, dragging you from the ballroom hall in haste. Quinn makes quick work of the drive home - not even glancing in your direction as he fidgets in his seat, his hand clamped against the inside of your thigh, his other hand tapping against the steering wheel as he makes his way through the streets of Vancouver.

“Five minutes, I can do this.” He mumbles to himself, as he races around the car, pulling the door open for you, offering his hand as you slide out of the car. The two of you taking the longest journey of Quinn’s life to the apartment, the tension rising to a boil as the front door clicks shut - Quinn’s pupils blown out as he glances at the clock.

“One minute.” He whispers, your hands making quick work of your heels as you strip them off your feet, a bright grin on your face as you tug on the hem of your dress, pulling it up inch by inch as you watch Quinn, who watches the clock. You pull the soft fabric over your head just as the clock ticks to midnight, Quinn’s eyes shooting over to yours.

“I did it.” He says in disbelief.

“You did it.” You confirm, leaning against the front door as you fiddle with the band on your underwear. “Now fuck me.” Quinn doesn’t waste time, his hands pushing you hard against the door as his lips capture yours, the two of your breathless in seconds, as his lips leave yours to press soft kisses down your jaw.

“I don’t know how long I’ll last.” He admits, a groan escaping him as you run your fingers against his scalp, his lips dipping to your collarbones before making their way back up. “God, you’re just so fucking gorgeous.” He says against your skin, your hands gripping his face to pull it away from your neck for a moment.

“Let’s make this quick then, cap.” You says as you press a chaste kiss to his lips before slipping out from between his body and the door, sprawling yourself against the couch your legs opened wide in invitation. “Clothes off.” You murmur as he stumbles over to the couch - Quinn nodding his head vigorously as he strips himself of his shirt, pausing to watch as you tug on the front clasp of your bra, the two cups springing away from each other as your breasts tumble free.

“I think I’ve been blessed by angels.” He says as his mouth falls open a little, his fingers fumbling on the button of his pants, finally letting out a sharp curse as he yanks at the pants, his button popping off and hitting the floor with a clattering sound. “I’ll fix them later.” He says, kicking the trousers off his legs as he dives towards you on the couch.

You let out a soft moan as Quinn attaches his lips to your left nipple, his free hand grabbing hold of the right breast as kneads it slowly, before switching sides, your legs wrapping around his waist as you whisper - “God, please.”

“My name is Quinn, and I expect you to use it.” He retorts, a wicked grin on his face as his finger tickle their way down to the waistband of your underwear, slowly slipping them down your legs and throwing them to the side - your pussy glistening as he sits back on his heels, glancing down at you.

“What’re you doing?” You hiss.

“Admiring the view.” He admits, his body jolting forwards as you use your legs to tug him back down towards you.

“Well stop admiring and put your dick in me.” Quinns hands move faster now, his lips finding their way back to yours as he fumbles to strip off his underwear, his body slotting easily against yours as his hand guides himself to your entrance.

“It’s as perfect as I remember.” Quinn says as he slowly pushes inside, a sigh of relief leaving you at the feeling of him after thirty long days. “God, your pussy is so perfect.” He groans, his hips slowly starting to rock back and forth, your arms thrown around his neck as you hold him to you as tightly as possible - his lips pressing gentle kisses against your cheeks as you let out a quiet whine.

“It’s made for me.” He continues, his hands finding purchase against your waist gripping tightly as his motions speed up, his thrusts heavier as he pulls himself into a kneeling position, your arms loosening around his neck grabbing hold of the cushion beneath you.

“Quinn, shit.” You hum, your teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as your throw your head back, his thumb rising to your mouth, your lips softly parting as he dips it into your mouth your tongue swirling around the digit before he pulls it back out - rubbing gently against your clit.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” Quinn moans, his thrusts becoming more erratic, your hand letting go of the cushion to grip his jaw - pulling his face down to yours.

“It’s okay.” You whisper against his lips, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw before adding, “Come for me, Quinn.” His movements halt, his hands leaving you to plant above your head as he lets out a low groan, your legs holding him against your as he whispers soft praise in your ear.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He apologises as his body falls against yours, your arms wrapping around him as you chuckle into his hair, pressing a kiss against his forehead.

“It’s okay.” You mumble, your fatigue already setting in as you try to yank the blanket off the back of the couch. “Let’s just stay here for a while.” Quinn humming in quick agreement as he settles against your chest, his fingers tangling with the ends of your hair as your hands rub against his bare skin.

“We didn’t use protection.” He notes, his dick softening inside of you, the bare feeling something new for the both of you.

“We can figure that out later.” You admit, surprised that neither of you had thought to grab a condom before leaving for the event earlier tonight.

“I’ll go to the pharmacy in the morning for you.” Quinn murmurs, his words softer as his body relaxes against yours. “I’ll make this up to you.” He adds.

“Quinn, really it’s okay… It’s been a long month for you.” You chuckle, Quinn huffing against your chest in agreement. “Well we’ve got the whole of December to make up for it.” You add, pressing one more kiss to his head before settling into your boyfriends embrace, your legs wrapped around him until the early morning, when he drags himself away from you starting the bath and pulling you away from the couch in a half asleep daze.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He whispers in your ear as he insists you go to the toilet before sliding into the enjoyably hot water, Quinn sliding into the bath behind you.

“Thank you, for being patient with me.” He says against your skin, your body melting against his in the soapy water.

“Just promise you won’t do it again.”

“Deal.”

#nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fanfic #no nut novemeber

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hockeylovee12 · 10 months ago

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Anyone But Him

Table of Contents

Jack Hughes x Original Character

Summary: Over the course of a year Sadie Howe and Jack Hughes find themselves falling hard for one another only problem is Sadie is the best friend of Luke Hughes, Jack’s younger brother. Read along to find out their story plays out.

IMPORTANT NOTE: I previously posted a version of this story with a prologue, but I write this story on AO3 and I wanted to try my hand at coding, and at then when I came back to writing I realized I didn't actually need my prologue and decided to just recreate it, so this is the version that will contain the full work, the other version will be left up, because I don't believe in deleting my work, and I still like it it just doesn't work this, so just keep that in mind if you read the prologue, then come here and notice inconsistencies, it's because they weren't written with the intent of going together. Additionally, as I mentioned this is posted on AO3. Once a chapter is completed it will be posted below. Please feel free to leave any feedback for me in asks! And feel free to share just don’t take credit for my work please!

Characters

Sadie

Jack

Luke

Part One

Chapter One

Chapter Two

#luke hughes #nj devils #jack hughes #hughes brothers #original character #original story #best friends brother #secrets #lies #developing relationship #jack hughes romance #betrayal #summer antics #2021-2022 season

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sweetteainthesummerx · 6 months ago

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|◁ II ▷| down bad ! |◁ II ▷|

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairing: quinn hughes x famous singer! reader

warnings: fluff, smut is implied but not graphic!! use of y/n.

summary: your sister sends you an article of you and quinn being absolutely down bad for each other...

word count: 2.4 k

notes: saw one too many edits of my handsome boy on TikTok and this is the consequence :) also, this is sort of based off of taylor swift and travis kelce. enjoy!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you're finishing up in the studio, just done tweaking one of your last songs on your new album when your phone dings! with a notification.

it's your sister, who sends a trail of emojis that don't really make sense and a link.

you press on it, confused and assuming it's something she wants for her birthday that's coming up soon.

instead it's an article that reads, TOP TEN FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS OF NHL AND THE MUSIC INDUSTRY'S ROYAL COUPLE.

you laugh, because the cover photo is one of you and quinn from last year when you took him as your plus one to the grammy's. you have to admit, you both look really good, and so, so in love.

so you nestle into your chair to read it.

TOP TEN FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS OF NHL AND THE MUSIC INDUSTRY'S ROYAL COUPLE

one of Hollywood's up and comings, y/n l/n and quinn hughes of canucks and nhl fame have been dating for over three years, and have been public for two. we have complied a list of fan favourite moments of the couple over the span of their relationship that show their deep (and public) affection and love for each other

10. 2023 Grammy's Award Ceremony

picture: you are wearing a light blue floor length gown, hair loose and curled. your makeup is simple and glowy. quinn stands next to you, in a clean, slate grey suit with a hand wrapped around your hip, fingers nestled in the dip of your hipbone.

the award ceremony for the grammy's - where y/n won best album for the second year in a row - was when the famous couple first went public officially, not counting the many paparazzi pictures taken in both vancouver and Los Angeles.

sources show that the two could hardly keep their hands off of each other. they were seen kissing multiple times through out the night.

it was true, quinn had been extra handsy that night, and had all but ripped that dress off of you when you got back to the hotel. you sigh at the memory, stomach warm and a little achy. you can't wait for him to come back from the roadie he left for only two days ago.

9. y/n's tiktoks

despite their massive success in their respective industries, it is easy to forget that they are also part of gen z. y/n's TikTok page features fashion, her music and most popular of all, her boyfriend. here are only some of her most viewed and liked videos:

video one: you smile into the camera, fluffing your hair in a close shot. the subtitles read: fit check with my bf! quinn pulls you against him by your waist, kissing your face over and over as you laugh, pushing at his chest. over the song, you tell him to let go so you can show your outfits. he lets go reluctantly but holds your hand, spinning you around to show off your sundress. then he grabs you and dips you low, hands dangerously close to your ass, as you giggle into his cheek.

video two: the video is taken by one of your friends who took your phone. she's on the couch and you and quinn are in the kitchen cooking for the small get together in your vancouver apartment. you lean up to smile at him, and he bumps his nose with yours. some trending love song plays in the back.

you flush at the comments gushing about how he looks at you, the height difference and how cute you guys are. there's something so sweet at seeing the two of you from an outsiders perspective.

8. quinn knowing y/n's entire discography

during media days, one interview has elias petterson and quinn hughes guessing songs and the artists. the journalist managed to sneak at least four of y/n's songs in, quinn getting all four correct, with the full name of the song, name of artist and then album, all under 10 seconds of the song playing. now that's a supportive boyfriend!

you watch the video linked, your boyfriend sweaty and hair wet. the media person is impressed, and quinn just shrugs bashfully and offers a crooked smile. you look at the time stamp and bite a grin: it's from before you guys went public. no wonder all of your fans say you guys were obvious.

7. quinn hughes: nhl player and personal bodyguard

fame in hollywood forces many in the industry to have body guards, and y/n is not exempt. for many years before she started dating the canuck's defensemen, she's had many bodyguards following her around. now, it seems like her boyfriend has taken over that job.

video: your body guard, john moves to open the limo door as you and quinn arrive to an event, but your boyfriend crosses from his side of the car to open it himself, patting john on the shoulder and gently pushing him from the entrance and helping you out himself. he helps you balance on your heels as you stand and wave at the cameras, one hand on your waist as he maneuvers you to the other side of the sidewalk so he can block you from the cars. he keeps your hand cradled in his, his other arm around your waist as he shoulders through the paparazzi.

quinn looks so attractive and so masculine in this video. you've never had boyfriends who took princess treatment so seriously, but quinn has always been a defender, on ice and off. it was a little awkward and it took a long a while for him to get you, but ever since he had you, he's made sure he tried his very best to keep and protect you.

6. getaway in hawaii

although the couple hasn't had any announcement of engagement yet, early last year they were sighted in hawaii on a trip eerily like a honeymoon: here are some pictures.

picture one: you're in a tiny pink bikini and he's in board shorts. he's taken off his hat to give to you, and you're pressing on a pair of your too-small sunglasses onto his face while both of you laugh.

picture two: the two of you are standing in the water up to your calves. he's got his fingers tangled in the strings of your bikini bottoms, and yours are on his chest as the two of you look into the horizon.

picture three: quinn has you balanced on his shoulder, smiling as you clutch at his back. one of his forearms is possessively covering your ass from the camera, and his other hand is wrapped fully around your ankle to give you a semblance of balance.

you still smile every time you think of that trip, afternoons playing in the water, romantic dinners and nights with his head between your legs, your fingers tangled in his hair. you silently remind yourself to book a vacation back there the next time both of you are free.

5. the NHL award ceremony

the recent NHL award ceremony when quinn hughes received the James Norris award for his skills as a defenceman gave us another peek into y/n's relationship with hughes family.

video one: you're sitting between quinn and luke in your pretty dark blue gown. your hair is pulled back from your face the way quinn likes. he's got an arm thrown over the back of the seat, fingers rubbing your shoulder as you talk to Luke about his hair routine. quinn murmurs something the camera can't catch into your ear and you laugh, tucking your hand into the his that's resting on his lap. he leans back, stretching his legs as you absentmindedly rub his knee, leaning over his brothers to talk to his mom.

video two: his name is called, and you stand with him, clapping loudly. he hugs you first, and you press a kiss into the corner of his lip, but he plants a firm, real one on yours. your manicured, white nails contrast against the black expanse of his suit and broad back. you push him gently towards luke. when he's finished hugging everyone and comes back down the aisle, you quickly fix his tie and smooth down his lapels. he kisses your cheek again and goes down to the stage.

photo three: the trophy is in the middle, the whole family wrapped together. you're tucked between ellen, the older woman has an arm around your waist and your boyfriend's got is arm slung across you shoulders on you other side, everyone smiling big for the camera.

you still remember ellen and jim insisting that you get in the photo, because "you're practically family anyways," and "it's any day now" that their son proposes to you. the photo is on their fridge, to this day.

4. quinn's y/n shirt

another video from y/n's tiktok. during the christmas season, she spent the holidays with the hughes family. her future brother in law (hopefully), jack hughes got quinn a pretty special present.

video: jack is holding the camera, and it pans to you and quinn. your holding a giant sushi stuffed toy (long story) from luke on your lap as you sit next to your boyfriend.

"here," he extends a hand holding a bag to his older brother.

Quinn smiles in thanks and digs into it, retrieving shirt. but it's no ordinary shirt. it's one of those old, retro looking ones with your face blown out all over it.

pictures from red carpets, your album covers, and in gaudy, shadowy text, it reads: IF LOST, RETURN TO Y/N L/N.

Luke cackles as you bury your face in quinn's shoulder. he's letting out a deep, belly laugh as his parents smile and take pictures of it when he holds it out.

he immediately pulls off his sweatshirt and tugs the shirt on. it fits a little tight.

"merry christmas!" jack yells as he gives you a high-five.

he still wears that stupid shirt around the apartment, just because he knows you like the fit and your face plastered all over his chest.

3. y/n's songs about her boyfriend

through many new releases, we have determined a list of songs about quinn from her new album, lover.

sweet nothing

paper rings

lover

daylight

I think he knows

afterglow

good looking

wow, you think. these people must not have lives if they're rummaging through your digital footprint and media presence with your boyfriend just to link them with your songs.

2. quinn's interview

since the couple has gone public, y/n has been seen at Canuck's games with family and friends. since she's from vancouver, born and raised, she is passionate about hockey and fits right in.

video one: the jumbotron flashes your face an name; you're wearing quinn's canucks jersey, hair loose. you smile and flutter your fingers at the crowd that's going crazy. one the ice, quinn's teammates jostle and holler at him, and you blow him a kiss. he pretends to catch it, and the screaming in the stadium reaches a new level as the screen pans to him: he's pink and all smiley.

video two: the ref makes a call and you stand, throwing your hands up in the air, exasperated. you huff, sitting back down with your head in your hands. your friends watch on with disappointment, and the three of you let out complains.

video three: quinn grins while looking off camera in the middle of an interview, and the journalist laughs.

"your girl?" he asks, and quinn nods shyly.

"yeah, it's real nice to see her here supporting. I mean, she's really busy too with her tours, but it's nice to have her on my turf."

"I saw! she got really riled up for the penalty during the second period. she's wearing your jersey as well."

"yeah," he scratches his neck, scrunching his nose to hide the big ass smile on his face, "she looks great, eh?"

"glad to see her in her hometown, too."

"right. yeah, I love her so much."

you snicker at how love sick he looks, because early on in the relationship he followed you around like a clingy, lost puppy. he still does sometimes after a roadie or one of your tours. you love it.

1. karma is the guy on the rink, coming straight home to me

the internet broke when y/n changed one of the songs on her song list for her tour last year at rogers arena in vancouver: instead of "karma is the guy on the screen, coming straight home to me", which is a reference to her ex, she changes it to better fix her new romance.

video: you dance through the song, your backup dancers clueless as you reach the line.

"karma is the guy on the rink, comin' straight home to me!" your voice breaks a little in a giggle at the end, your dancers shocked laughter and gasps visible from their faces that even an iPhone camera from 25 meters away can catch.

video two: quinn's in the tent with your parents and some of his teammates and their girlfriends, all of them are vibing to the music and dancing, most holding drinks in their hands.

when the line hits the speakers, everyone is screaming so loud and filming him, and he blushes so red that it spreads to his ears and neck, even in the dim light. his boys are slapping his back, and your dad gives him a high-five. he just smiles at you, dopey and deliriously happy in his shirt of your face and the 20 friendship bracelets your fans had made for him.

you remember that show perfectly, and the night after even better. you barely got any sleep because of his attentions, and your makeup artists spent nearly half an hour covering up the bruises on your neck and chest the next morning.

all in all, we can come to the conclusion that quinn hughes and y/n l/n are completely down bad for each other, like she teased in the song list of her unreleased album. we only hope for good things in the future for this famous couple!

you smile at the closing statement, sending it to quinn to read later in his hotel room.

he facetimes you that night, hair wet and eyes sleepy.

"that article was absolutely right. I am so down bad for you." he tells you seriously, with the promise of lots of love when he comes straight home to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

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pucked-bunnie · 26 days ago

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un-offical ⎜j.hughes

pairings: jack hughes x reader genre: romance ⎜situationship to lovers ⎜christmas special ⎜ warnings: readers ex being a jerk ⎜ jack being a doberman boyfriend ⎜ this is honestly just short and sweet synopsis: things with jack are complicated at the best of times - but they're about to get even worse when he meets your ex boyfriend at your families annual christmas party word count: 3.9k authors note: this was a combination of two requests i thought went really well together - I hope you all enjoy!! Happy Christmas season!

(unedited)

“Hon, there is someone at the door for you.” Your mum calls through the house, her voice casual yet carrying that sing-song lilt she used when she knew something was about to stir up excitement. You shoot to your feet, the soft rustle of your dress swishing against your ankles as you jog to the front door. You give her a quick nod of thanks as she drifts away, leaving you alone to handle the unexpected arrival. Standing in front of the door, you take a steadying breath, smoothing your dress and running a hand through your hair to make yourself look a bit more composed. Then, with a slight smile, you pull it open.

“Hey, didn’t think you’d make it,” you greet, the words sliding off your tongue with practiced ease. It’s a lie, of course. You’d been tracking his location on Find My Friends only minutes ago, and the little dot marking his presence had been slowly inching closer to your house, sending a flutter of nerves through your chest. But the moment Jack steps into view, all of those feelings morph into a warm kind of familiarity. There he stands, a neatly wrapped present in his hands, his white button-down pristine and tucked into tailored black slacks. His hair, as always, has that perfectly messy charm, and his grin is enough to light up even the frostiest winter night.

“Come in, come in, it’s freezing out there,” you say, stepping aside to usher him into the entryway. The air outside bites at your skin, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth of your home, but Jack’s presence brings an added heat—an unspoken connection that’s been brewing for months.

“I managed to squeeze it into my schedule,” Jack jokes, his tone light but his eyes sincere. That, too, is a lie. You know it, and he knows it. The moment you had mentioned your family’s annual Christmas party weeks ago, he had cleared his calendar without a second thought. The idea of being here, of being with you in a space so intimate and familial, was something he couldn’t resist. “I…um, got this for you.” Jack says softly, handing over the small present.

Before you can respond, a voice cuts through the air from the living room. “Is that Jack?” your younger cousin, Emily, calls out, poking her head around the corner. Her face lights up the moment she sees him, and Jack waves, his easy charm working its magic as always. You roll your eyes playfully but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

“It’s Jack,” you confirm, and she’s gone as quickly as she appeared, probably to alert the rest of the family of his arrival. Your stomach flips slightly at the thought. Having Jack here is already complicated enough, given the undefined nature of your relationship. Your family, however, has an uncanny way of reading between lines that don’t even exist yet.

"They're expecting a lot of photos tonight." You say with a chuckle - your hand reaching out to slip into his. “Don't say I didn't warn you,” you tease, leading him into the living room. The scent of pine, cinnamon, and freshly baked cookies fills the air, wrapping around the two of you like a comforting blanket. Jack’s eyes wander, taking in the twinkling lights on the tree, the garlands strung along the bannisters, and the small army of cousins bustling around in various stages of sugar highs.

Just as Jack is about to say something, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the house, cutting through the festive chatter like a needle scraping across a record. You freeze. For a moment, you think about ignoring it, but your mum’s voice rings out again. “Hon, could you get that?” she calls, and your stomach twists with a sense of foreboding.

You glance at Jack, who raises an eyebrow in curiosity but stays silent. With a sigh, you make your way back to the front door. The moment you open it, the air seems to drain from your lungs. Standing there, a crooked grin on his face and a bottle of wine in hand, is your ex-boyfriend.

“Surprise,” he says, his voice tinged with that familiar cocky confidence that used to charm you but now only makes your pulse quicken for all the wrong reasons. You’re too stunned to respond, your brain scrambling to understand why he’s here.

“Tyler? What are you doing here?” you manage to ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

He shrugs, his grin widening. “Your mum invited me. Said it’d be nice to catch up.”

“Of course she did,” you mutter under your breath, stepping aside to let him in. He’s barely in the entryway when Jack appears, his presence filling the space and immediately shifting the dynamic. His warm smile fades slightly as his eyes dart from you to the man now standing too close for comfort.

“Jack, this is, uh…this is Tyler,” you say, the awkwardness of the introduction making your cheeks flush. “Tyler this is Jack.” Tyler extends a hand, his expression unreadable.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, though his tone suggests the opposite. Jack hesitates for only a fraction of a second before shaking his hand firmly, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.

“Likewise,” Jack replies, his voice calm but his eyes sharp. The tension between them is palpable, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of the situation.

“Do I know you from somewhere? You look so familiar,” Tyler says, his grin returning as he doesn’t wait for Jack to respond, immediately greeted by the rest of your family as he steps further into the house, leaving you and Jack standing by the door. Jack’s gaze lingers on Tyler’s retreating figure before he turns to you, his expression softening slightly.

“Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it, does it?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Welcome to my life,” you reply, your tone half-joking but your heart pounding as you realise the evening is only just beginning.

Jack doesn’t say anything as the two of you move back toward the living room, but you can feel the shift in his energy. His easy-going demeanour has been replaced by a quiet alertness, his jaw tight, his hands slipping into his pockets as if to ground himself. You can’t blame him. Tyler has always had a way of commanding attention, whether or not it’s welcome.

And Jack? Well, Jack isn’t the type to back down from a challenge—even one that hasn’t been fully issued yet.

When you re-enter the living room, Tyler’s already making himself at home. He’s perched on the edge of the couch, chatting animatedly with your dad about some mutual interest in sports, the bottle of wine he brought resting on the coffee table like a trophy. The room buzzes with holiday cheer, but for you, the atmosphere is anything but jolly.

Jack hangs back slightly, his gaze fixed on Tyler. The subtle scrutiny in his eyes makes your stomach twist. You know Jack well enough to know he’s piecing things together, every detail adding fuel to the silent fire building between them.

You’re about to steer Jack toward the other side of the room when Tyler’s voice cuts through the conversation.

“Hold on a second,” he says, leaning back on the couch and pointing a finger in Jack’s direction. “Now I know where I’ve seen you before.”

The room goes quiet, all eyes flicking between the two men. Jack, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. He merely raises an eyebrow, his posture calm but commanding.

“You’re Jack Hughes,” Tyler says, a slow grin spreading across his face as if he’s just uncovered some great secret

“New Jersey Devils, right? My buddies and I are huge fans.”

Jack offers a polite nod, his expression unreadable. “That’s me.”

Tyler lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head in mock amazement. “Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into an NHL star at a Christmas party. Small world, huh?”

You feel Jack’s gaze flicker toward you for a moment, as if seeking reassurance. But before you can say anything, Tyler leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“So, how do you two know each other?” he asks, his tone casual but his eyes alight with something more probing.

You open your mouth to answer, but Jack beats you to it.

“We met through mutual friends,” he says smoothly, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Been close ever since.”

There’s something in the way he says it—something deliberate—that makes your heart skip a beat. Tyler catches it too, his grin faltering for a fraction of a second before he recovers.

“Close, huh?” Tyler repeats, leaning back again. His gaze slides to you, and you can see the wheels turning in his head. He’s not the type to let things go easily, especially when it comes to you.

“Yup,” you say quickly, trying to defuse the tension. “Jack’s been a great friend.”

Jack’s eyes dart to you, and for a brief moment, you swear you see a flicker of something unspoken there—something that contradicts the word friend.

“Friend,” Tyler echoes, his tone light but with an edge that makes your skin crawl. He looks back at Jack, his smile widening. “Well, I guess that makes you one of the lucky ones. This family’s not exactly easy to crack into.”

Jack chuckles, the sound low and deliberate. “I guess I’ve got a knack for that.”

The subtle back-and-forth isn’t lost on anyone in the room. Your dad clears his throat and starts up a conversation with your aunt to break the tension, while your cousins exchange wide-eyed glances, clearly enjoying the unfolding drama.

You, on the other hand, feel like you’re standing on a tightrope, one wrong step away from sending the whole evening spiralling out of control.

As the night progresses, Tyler continues to insert himself into every interaction, his charm dialled up to maximum.

But Jack doesn’t back down. He’s there, steady and unshaken, his quiet confidence cutting through Tyler’s bravado in ways you’re sure only the two of them fully understand.

At one point, Tyler corners you in the kitchen under the guise of catching up. “So,” he says, his voice low as he leans casually against the counter. “Hughes seems…interesting. You two really just friends?”

You glare at him, your patience wearing thin. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Tyler says with a shrug, but the smirk tugging at his lips says otherwise. “Just curious. Guy like that, I’m sure he’s got plenty of options.”

You roll your eyes, refusing to take the bait. “Jack’s not like that.”

Tyler chuckles, his eyes narrowing slightly. “If you say so.”

“Why are you even here, Tyler? What made you think it was a good idea to come to your ex-girlfriend’s families christmas party.” You sigh, rubbing your forehead lightly.

“I told you, you’re mum invi—”

“Forget the fucking invitation… A normal person would’ve said no.” You hiss, slapping his hand away as he reaches out to place it on your thigh.

“Maybe I wanted to see if we could fix things - I miss you, baby.” Before you can respond, Jack appears in the doorway, his presence filling the small kitchen like a protective shield.

“Everything okay in here?” he asks, his tone light but his eyes locked on Tyler. The word ‘baby’ echoing around his head as his eyebrows furrow. You let out another long sigh, slapping at Tylers hand again as he tries to reach for you.

“Peachy,” Tyler says, pushing off the counter and brushing past Jack with a pointed pat on the shoulder. “We’ll finish this later,” he adds, throwing the comment over his shoulder as he disappears back into the living room.

Jack watches him go, his jaw tight. Then he turns to you, his expression softening. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you say, though your voice wavers slightly. “He’s just…Tyler.” Jack doesn’t press further, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s not about to let Tyler ruin the night—or whatever it is the two of you have been carefully building.

As the evening winds down, the tension between Jack and Tyler remains unspoken but undeniable. And its as jack follows you around the kitchen helping place the dishes in the dishwasher at the end of the night, you can’t help but feel a strange sense of relief—like you’ve made it through a storm together.

“Thanks for coming,” you say softly, your breath visible in the cold night air.

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” Jack replies, his voice warm and steady. For a moment, neither of you moves, the world around you falling away. Then, with a small smile, Jack leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering just a second longer than they need to.

The night stretched on, the warmth of the party doing little to ease the nerves that Tyler’s presence had stirred up. He seemed determined to inject himself into every conversation, his charm dialled up for your family’s sake, but every so often, you’d catch his eyes lingering on you, his smirk creeping back like an unwanted shadow.

Jack, on the other hand, was the epitome of steady confidence. He stayed close but never possessive, moving easily among your family members, cracking jokes with your cousins, and even helping your mum carry dessert platters from the kitchen. But his watchful gaze never strayed far from you, especially when Tyler was nearby.

You did your best to avoid being caught alone with Tyler, but the tension was wearing you thin. By the time dessert had been served, you needed a moment to yourself. Slipping out the back door, you welcomed the sharp bite of the winter air, hoping it would clear your head.

The backyard was quiet, the snow glistening under the faint glow of the string lights your dad had hung along the patio railing. You wrapped your arms around yourself, the cold biting through your sweater, when a familiar voice broke the silence.

“Figured I’d find you out here,” Tyler said, his tone smooth as he stepped outside, shutting the door behind him.

You sighed, your breath fogging in the cold. “What do you want, Tyler?”

“To talk,” he said, moving closer. “Just you and me. Like old times.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you replied sharply, backing away slightly. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

“Come on, babe,” he said, his grin widening. “You can’t tell me you don’t miss it. Us. The way we used to be.”

Your patience snapped. “You mean the way you used to lie and manipulate me? No, Tyler, I don’t miss that.”

His grin faltered, his eyes narrowing. “You’re being dramatic. You’re seriously going to let some hockey star replace me?” You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, Tyler took another step closer, his voice dropping.

“I still love you. You know that, right? We could fix this. Just say the word.”

You froze, disgust bubbling up in your chest. “No, Tyler. There’s nothing to fix.”

He reached out, his hand brushing your arm, and you flinched away. “Don’t touch me,” you snapped.

“Everything okay out here?” Jack’s voice cut through the tension like a knife - for the second time that night. You turned to see him standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on Tyler with a sharp, unreadable intensity.

Tyler dropped his hand, his smirk returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just catching up,” he said casually, his tone dripping with false innocence.

Jack stepped down onto the patio, his calm demeanour doing nothing to hide the tension radiating from him. “Didn’t look like that to me.”

“Relax,” Tyler said, straightening. “We’re just talking. No need to get all territorial.”

Jack’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking to you. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, though your voice wavered. “Tyler was just leaving.”

Tyler chuckled, shaking his head. “Wow, really? You’re gonna let him speak for you now?”

Jack took another step forward, his posture unwavering. “She doesn’t need to explain herself to you. You heard her. Leave.”

The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, and for a moment, you thought Tyler might actually swing.

But then he scoffed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. I’m out,” he said, brushing past Jack and bumping his shoulder in the process. “But don’t think this is over.”

As Tyler disappeared back inside, Jack turned to you, his concern evident. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, but the knot in your chest tightened as frustration bubbled to the surface. “Why did you bother stepping in, Jack? I could’ve handled it.”

Jack frowned, his expression hardening. “Because he wasn’t listening to you, and I wasn’t about to stand there and let him intimidate you.”

“I didn’t need you to play the hero,” you snapped, the adrenaline making your voice sharper than you intended. “It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything.”

Jack froze, the words hitting him like a physical blow. For a moment, he just stared at you, his expression shifting from surprise to something deeper—something hurt.

“You’re right,” he said quietly, his voice steady but tinged with something raw. “You’re not. But I care about you. And I wasn’t going to let him treat you like that.”

The sincerity in his words made your chest ache, but your frustration hadn’t fully burned out. “I didn’t ask you to care, Jack. This was my problem to deal with.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “Maybe you didn’t ask, but I’m here anyway. Because I want to be. Because you deserve better than him.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, the icy wind biting at your skin. Finally, you sighed, your shoulders slumping.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just…tired of all this.”

Jack’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing your arm lightly. “I get it,” he said gently. “But you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

His words settled over you like a warm blanket, and for the first time that night, the tension in your chest began to ease. You looked up at him, your breath hitching as you met his gaze.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Jack offered a small smile, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he pulled back. “Come on,” he said, his voice lightening. “Let’s get back inside before your mum starts sending out search parties.” You laughed softly, nodding as you followed him back toward the house. The warmth of the party enveloped you as you stepped inside, but the real comfort was the steady presence of the man beside you.

As the night wound down, the atmosphere in the house gradually shifted back to the cozy warmth you had hoped for. Tyler had left not long after his confrontation with Jack, throwing a half-hearted goodbye to the room before disappearing out the front door. His absence was a relief, like a storm cloud finally clearing, leaving the air lighter and easier to breathe.

Jack, ever the charmer, stayed grounded and helpful, seamlessly blending into the group. He helped your dad carry a stack of empty trays to the kitchen, indulged your youngest cousin in a surprisingly competitive game of charades, and even won over your aunt with a discussion about her favourite holiday baking show. But no matter how relaxed he seemed, his presence remained tethered to you, as though he was silently letting you know he was there, ready to step in if needed.

The evening began to quiet as guests filtered out, hugs and cheerful goodbyes exchanged at the front door. Your cousins had retreated upstairs to play video games, your parents were tidying up in the kitchen, and the glow of the fireplace bathed the living room in a soft, flickering light.

Jack stood near the mantle, inspecting one of the framed family photos with an amused smile. You watched him for a moment, your heart softening as the warmth of his presence settled over you.

“You’re really good with them, you know,” you said as you approached, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

He turned to you, tilting his head slightly. “With who?”

“My family,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “I think my aunt is ready to adopt you. And my cousins… I haven’t seen them this hyped about charades in years.”

Jack chuckled, leaning casually against the mantle. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

A comfortable silence fell between you again, the crackle of the fire filling the space. You glanced around the room, the faint scent of pine and cinnamon lingering in the air. Your gaze landed on a small sprig of mistletoe hanging above the archway leading into the foyer.

Jack followed your line of sight, his eyes landing on the mistletoe as well. A soft chuckle escaped him, and he looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Really? You’re the one who leaves mistletoe up?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Blame my mum. She’s the one who insists on the ‘holiday charm.’”

Jack took a slow step forward, closing the small distance between you. His expression softened, the teasing edge giving way to something more sincere. “Holiday charm, huh?” You felt your pulse quicken as he stopped just a step away, the warmth of him radiating in the cool room. The mistletoe loomed above, a quiet reminder of the tradition it carried.

“It’s silly,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“Maybe,�� Jack said softly, his eyes locked on yours. “But I don’t think I mind.”

His gaze flickered briefly to your lips, and your breath hitched, the world around you fading into the background. The glow of the fire, the faint hum of holiday music from the other room—it all blurred into nothing as Jack leaned in, his movements slow and deliberate, as if giving you a chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was both gentle and electric, a perfect blend of warmth and tenderness. Your hands found their way to his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt grounding you as the kiss deepened ever so slightly.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, a small smile curving his lips.

“If you call me your friend one more time I might throw myself off the roof,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You laughed softly, your cheeks flushing as you shook your head. “We’re not friends?.”

“Not even close.” Jack’s grin widened, and he leaned in to press another soft kiss to your lips before pulling back completely.

The sound of your mum’s voice carried from the kitchen, breaking the spell. “Hon, is Jack staying for hot chocolate before he leaves?” You exchanged a glance with Jack, both of you smiling as the moment settled between you like a secret.

“I think I’ve got time for a cup,” Jack said, his voice warm as he took your hand, leading you back toward the living room.

The night had been a whirlwind, full of tension and unexpected twists, but as you sat beside Jack on the couch, sipping hot chocolate and stealing glances at him, you couldn’t help but feel like it had all led to this—something new and quietly wonderful blossoming between you.

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl #nhl fic #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes imagines #christmas special

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tkwrites · 9 months ago

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Elimination - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif by @thombordeleau

Title: Elimination

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: Sad Quinn, fluff and comfort, smut (18+ only), unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f receiving), if I missed any others, please let me know.

Summary: When the Canucks are eliminated from the Stanley Cup Playoffs, Sarah offers Quinn a kind of comfort he didn’t know he needed.

Word count: 4,200

Comments: This snapshot has been a long time coming. The idea of Sarah comforting Quinn the way she does came to me while I was driving to work one day, and I immediately wrote it down. It took me quite a while to figure Quinn’s family into the story, including his brothers (yes! They're finally here!).

As I was editing the comfort scene, I found the story continuing in a way I didn’t really expect, but mirrored Before I meet your parents… in a way I couldn’t ignore.

If you enjoy it, please let me know by commenting or reblogging! Your comments really do inspire me to keep writing!

Elimination

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

The playoffs were a whole different beast than Sarah had become accustomed to. Not only was the season much longer than any of the guys were used to, practices were more intense and heated, video more in depth, the need for rest and recovery more acute. She knew first hand how tired the team was because she knew first hand how tired Quinn was.

In the first round, they'd lost the first game in the series before rallying to win the next three. The Kings won one more before the Canucks stamped them out with the last win coming on home ice in overtime. Despite the final score only being 1-0, it was the most exciting game Sarah had ever been to.

When she was sitting with Quinns family, Luke had taken to teasing her in that little brother way every time her hands ended up clutching her face with each shot directed at Demko or Talbot.

“Calm down, Sarah,” he’d said, when she jumped in her seat, hands flying up to cover her mouth as Demko barrel rolled to stop another shot from Kopitar.

She'd sent a playful glare his way, “I'm surprised Kylee hasn't told you you should never tell a woman to calm down. That's a surefire way to get yourself into trouble.”

Kylee, who was sitting on Lukes other side, snorted. “Oh, I have. He just doesn’t listen.”

Luke took it in stride and laughed. He reminded Sarah so much of her oldest nephew, Ryan. Good natured, friendly and a little bit goofy once she broke through that shy shell.

Sarah glanced at Jack, who was sitting with his some of his cousins farther down the row. His eyes darted away, as if caught staring at something he shouldn’t.

The strained way he acted around her was getting better, but he was still pretty standoffish toward her. When she asked Quinn what she could do to fix it, he said to just give it time, and Jack would come around eventually. He didn’t think it was actually anything about her, but rather Jack needing time to adjust to the situation.

“I think he finally realized how serious I am about you.”

“You’re serious about me?” she’d asked, all flirty lashes and coy smiles.

“You know I am,” he’d responded before leaning in to kiss her.

So, she turned back to the game, giving Jack time and hoping he would see how much she loved his older brother and that she only meant well.

When Garland shot the overtime goal off a picture perfect pass from Quinn, he managed to catch Talbot above the blocker, sending the puck sailing into the back of the net with a definitive whoosh.

The arena erupted into a wall of sound.

The entire team, clad in blue, spilled onto the ice, throwing helmets and gloves, crowding around Conor and Thatcher.

Quinn was ecstatic that evening. Practically bouncing off the walls of the club they went to to celebrate. Sarah had never seen him so loud - caught up in the atmosphere and moment.

Halfway through the night, he pulled her into a dim corner and kissed her so thoroughly, she actually considered pulling him into the dingy bathroom to have her way with him right then.

Jack interrupted, drunkenly loud, and demanded that Quinn come with him for a round of shots.

Quinn paused, meeting Sarah’s eye.

“Go celebrate,” she encouraged, trying her best to not come between them. She and Quinn could find a spare moment to celebrate on their own later.

With his family in his house, that moment hadn’t come, but she was glad to see Quinn celebrating so heartily with his brothers.

In the second round, after three straight losses to the Predators, Vancouver battled, forcing game five, before dominating in Nashville two nights later, selling their comeback story.

When they got back to town, the whole city was buzzing.

Despite the excitement, game six was awful to watch. Sarah had her hands over her mouth through most of it.

Now that they were fighting to tie, and the Preds were fighting, once again, to clinch the series, Nashville was playing dirty: exploiting every Canucks weakness they could find. They needled, drawing penalty after stupid, preventable penalty until they were three goals up at the end of the second period.

Quinn was exhausted. Sarah could see it in his skating and in the slumped set of his shoulders as they went into the dressing room for the intermission.

She sent him a text, I’m so proud of you.

He didn't reply, but they battled back, holding off all Preds offense and getting within a goal by the time Demko was pulled at the end of the third. Quinn battled fiercely to keep the puck in the offensive zone for more than a minute, giving a master class on body-eye coordination as he skirted the blue line, dodging Nashville players as if someone were controlling him with a top ice view.

Their passes were perfect: tic-tac-toe from Quinn to Mikheyev to Lafferty, but as Sam tried to get the puck to Höglander, the pass was intercepted.

Nashville fought to center ice and chipped the puck into the Vancouver end.

Quinn chased it, but he just didn't have enough in the tank. He caught up just as the puck bounced back out of the open net.

Full of frustration and despair, he smacked it into the boards. Caught at just the right angle, the puck ricocheted back at him, and he had to lift a hand to block it from hitting him in the face.

Sarah could practically see the frustrated embarrassment radiating off him as he skated to sit down.

Demko was pulled again and Quinn managed to get the empty netter back, but through the ugly march of time, the clock expired before they could score another.

The buzzer sounded and Nashville celebrated, throwing equipment all over the ice, all hugging and jumping as the Canucks limped into the dressing room.

Even despite the disappointment of losing, everyone was thrilled to see them get this far. Going from the middle of the pack last season to top of the league this year was no small feat. She knew Quinn wouldn’t be satisfied until they got the cup, but she was so proud of him.

He sent a text, telling them to go home and he would meet them there when he was done with the media.

It was torture for Sarah to have to leave and wait for him. She wished she could go down to the dressing room, but knew not only would she not be allowed in, Quinn would hate it. He would want to talk with her privately.

Everyone was subdued as they puttered around the apartment, waiting for him. Both Jack and Luke were on their phones, sprawled out over the living room furniture, while Ellen, Jim and Kylee were doing something in the kitchen. Sarah was too nervous to even distract herself. Quinn had lost before, of course, but she’d never seen him lose like this — not this kind of a season-ending, brutal loss.

When the elevator dinged, Sarah jumped to her feet, his family following suit, clambering into the living room.

To her surprise, Quinn came straight to her, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. His suit was rumpled, his tie attempting to slither out of his breast pocket. When she wrapped him in her arms, he practically collapsed against her.

Ellen knew Quinn loved and trusted Sarah and that he spent far more time with her these days, but it was still a bit shocking when he bypassed them all to go straight to her for comfort.

Sarah reacted in a way Ellen never had and upon seeing the scene play out, she realized Sarah’s reaction may have been something Quinn had been longing for for a long time.

She would usually hug him for a while, before talking him down. They would soon end up dissecting shifts and plays. He would lament how he could have been better, and she would try to comfort him while still being realistic.

Sarah just stood there, holding him. She didn't say a word, even when Quinn started to cry softly. She just ran a hand into his wet hair, while the other traveled slowly up and down his back.

She didn't assure or placate him, or even try to get him to stop crying. She just let him express the emotion without judgment or commentary. It hit Ellen suddenly that Sarah reacted this way because she had dealt with so much sorrow in her life, she knew how to comfort in these hard moments.

The family stood by and watched. She didn’t look up and meet their eyes with a conspiratorial, he’ll be alright, look, or invite them into the embrace. Her whole intention was focused on Quinn.

While it was sweet to see them together in this way, it was also a little awkward to watch, especially for the boys, who looked like they had no idea what to do.

It was full minutes before anyone said anything, and even then, it was just Sarah asking if he wanted to sit down. He shook his head so she did a little two-step, and kept on.

As Ellen watched them interact, it was obvious how much they meant to and understood each other. It was so sweet to witness her son finding the person he needed that she pulled out her phone to record them, wanting to document the moment.

When they finally spoke, Ellen was glad she was filming.

“I let everyone down,” Quinn said, his voice choked with emotion, just above a whisper.

“No.” Her voice was quite loud, the word definitive, leaving no room for doubt. It was a bit shocking to hear Sarah be so forceful.

Taking his jaw, she gently lifted his head up so he had to look into her eyes.

“No,” she repeated, her voice a little softer now. “This wasn't only your fault, and it didn't happen because of anything you did by yourself.”

Ellen wasn’t sure she would go that far… If he had gone for a change, someone with fresh legs may have been able to chase down that empty netter.

“You don’t win as a team, but lose by yourself. That’s not how this works.”

Now she understood where Sarah was going.

“I know this run is ending sooner than you wanted and I'd be more concerned if you weren't sad.” She paused for a long moment, looking into his eyes as if she was searching for something. When she didn’t find it, she continued, “I just - I want you to remember that I don't love you because you play hockey.”

His lower lip trembled and Ellen felt hers do the same.

“I love you because of this big, kind heart,” she said as she pressed a hand to his chest, “and because of this brilliant, thoughtful mind,” her other hand slid into the hair at his temple. “And those are the same as they were this morning. You're so much more than hockey.”

He was looking at her like she'd hung the moon.

Ellen felt tears slip down her own cheeks. All her life, she’d been trying to strike a balance with her boys - trying to find the right way to tell them hockey was just a part of who they are. And here Sarah was, walking into their life, and saying the exact thing Ellen had been trying to say all along.

Right then and there, the remaining reservations she had about Sarah were swept onto the back burner. She knew it would still take some getting used to, but how could she not love this woman standing in front of her, telling her son she loved him for who he was and not for the things he did? It was all she could ask for as a mother.

She glanced over at Jack, who looked a little dumbfounded, as if seeing Sarah for the first time. Luke was smiling in a glad, knowing way, his arm looped around Kylee.

Jim, standing on Ellen’s other side had a mixture of pride and disappointment on his face. Ellen knew he was going to battle with himself at the thought of Quinn crying over being eliminated. When they were kids, he would have told the boys to buck up, despite Ellen’s insistence it was okay for them to express their sadness for a little while.

The happiness at seeing someone accept Quinn as he was won out, and Jim put his arm around Ellen with a conspiratorial smile.

“Of course you’re going to be sad,” Sarah continued. “Like I said, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t. But you,” she poked him gently in the chest to emphasize her point, “sure as hell didn’t let me down.”

Quinn threw his arms around her in a fierce hug. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He wiped at his eyes, then turned to the family. They embraced him one by one.

After she’d hugged Quinn, Ellen went to Sarah, “I don’t know how you did that,” she said, pulling her close, “but that was exactly what he needed.”

When Quinn made his way back to Sarah, he kissed her temple. His eyes were still red, cheeks still splotched with color, but he looked settled. Not satisfied or happy, really, but settled.

Later that night, Ellen sent the video to her sister, making her promise to not share it with anyone. She just needed someone else to see the tenderness.

Oh, Elle, I'm so glad Quinn finally found a good one. I can't wait to meet her.

At the same time Ellen was texting her sister, Quinn was lying next to Sarah in bed. Her words from earlier replaying over and over again in his thoughts.

He'd practically begged her to stay over. She hadn't planned to with his family in the house, but he felt a bit needy and wanted the comfort of her next to him.

“Thank you for tonight,” he said, turning to her.

She rolled onto her side so they were face to face. “I'm always gonna be in your corner, Quinn.”

Leaning in, he kissed her - gently at first, but it soon turned more passionate.

The fact that they would be apart before too long was on both their minds as they made love that night.

“Oh, Quinn. Right there, right there,” she chanted, voice soft.

The simple fact that he could make her feel this way made his heart feel full to bursting. At least he hadn't lost that.

Keeping eye contact, his hand traced to her left knee and pulled it up over his hip. He didn’t want her to have the same old orgasm. Not tonight. A big part of him wanted to prove he could still excel here.

Head tipping back, Sarah panted.

His other hand came up to guide her chin back down.

The way she clenched around him when their eyes met made his hips stutter.

She lifted herself up to catch his mouth. It changed the angle of his thrusts, making his whole body quiver. He tried to brace against it, slowing down and concentrating on kissing the breath out of her.

It worked in that they were both breathless before too long, but didn't ease the feeling of being pulled to the very edge of his restraint. The competitive streak inside him wasn't about to allow himself to come before she did - especially not tonight, when he had so much left to prove.

“No,” she gasped when he pulled away. “I was right there.”

He laughed into her skin. “I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he said, before tracing his mouth over her clavicle and trailing his tongue between her breasts, savoring the salty taste of her skin.

The blankets pulled with him as he settled between her legs, and Sarah gasped as the cool air of his room hit her.

She looked so ethereal in a pool of soft light from one of the skylights, her chest rising and falling at a hurried, steady pace.

“God, you're beautiful,” he whispered.

Times like these, Quinn still wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to find Sarah. She seemed to be his perfect match in every way. It wasn’t always smooth sailing - nothing ever was. This summer was sure to take a toll on their relationship. He knew, somehow, they would come out on the other side, better and stronger, but all the same, he wasn’t looking forward to spending so many nights without her.

Pushing that worry out of his mind, he concentrated the task at hand and lowered his mouth to her hot center.

It was his turn to give thanks.

She was acutely aware of his family in the apartment: brothers on the floor below, while his parents were down the hall. They were never particularly loud in bed, but the thought of his family overhearing hushed her vocal cords even more.

“Quinn,” she whimpered.

He ate up every whisper, every little whine and panted breath, knowing they were just for him.

Making some unintelligible noise, her back arched, lifting off the mattress.

She whined when he eased two fingers into her and lifted his mouth.

“Help me find it?” he whispered, crooking his fingers.

“Higher.”

He moved slowly, not wanting to go too fast and pass over it.

“There, there,” she panted.

Reaching up with his free hand, he disentangled her fingers from the sheet so he could grasp her hand, linking them together.

“You can press a little harder. It’s not as sen -” her voice broke off into a groaned, “oh, fuck,” as he urged that soft, spongey spot with a heavier touch.

They’d done this more after his revelatory first time, and he loved discovering new things about her. He still had a hard time finding her g-spot on his own, but he was learning. Tonight felt like a whole new ego stroke, one he was seeking if he was being honest with himself.

His mind wandered back to the first time he’d touched her, the way she’d reminded him of Helen of Troy - beautiful beyond belief. He ached for her the same way now as he watched her fall apart. Mouth dropped open as her body pulled taught as a bow string, one hand grasping the headboard for stability while the other clutched his like a vice.

As she came down from her high, he kept his fingers pressed into her.

Even as she squirmed against the sensitivity from his strong touch, she felt a blaze of pleasure reignite in her belly, faster than it ever had before.

Still kneading with his fingertips, he lowered down, sucking her sensitive pearl into his mouth. She let out a strangled cry that left him dizzy with satisfaction.

The contrast of his warm mouth and soft tongue on her core against the harsh rasp of his playoff beard on her inner thighs wound her tighter and tighter until he was sparking so much ecstasy in her body, she couldn't quite remember why she was trying to be so quiet.

Her fingers tightened in his at the same time her legs trembled and he knew she was close. He continued on, mouth soft and steady while his fingers worked with more focused intent.

The way she whimpered his name made him groan and rock his hips into the mattress to get a bit of relief.

When the tension in her pelvis finally snapped, Sarah cried out.

It was only after she came back to herself and he eased his fingers from her that she worried about how loud she'd been.

Before she could ask, he knocked her breathless again as he slid his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them with apparent relish.

“Did I yell?” she whispered as he crawled back over her.

He shook his head, “not too loud. I don't think they heard.”

The anxiety ebbed away as he leaned in to kiss her.

“Can you turn over?” he asked, lips barely grazing hers.

She pulled back to look into his face.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said.

“You already did. Twice.”

“Please?” he asked, ghosting his lips over her cheek, “let me make you come one more time.”

In reality, Quinn was tired, but his pride was insistent, eager to feel her again and he knew if he got her on her stomach she’d come faster than in missionary.

He could see worry in her expression, but she did as he asked, the sheets clinging briefly to her back as she rolled.

One of his hands grazed down her side, following the curvature of her hip before tracing her hamstring all the way to the knee. Hooking his hand there, he eased her leg out to the side.

He really was spoiling her. Eagle with a broken wing was her favorite position other than missionary, but they didn’t do it terribly often, both generally preferring to see the other when they were together.

She felt Quinn’s heat before any of his skin, and raised her hips slightly to facilitate him.

“You’re —” she broke off into a groan as he eased into her again. She was so sensitive, she was fairly certain she would have fallen apart all over again if he had given her an intense enough look. Heat was already climbing up her spine and he hadn't even moved yet.

His hands appeared near hers as he braced on his forearms. She moved to lace her fingers through his.

When he began to thrust, he felt her fingers curl until her nails kissed his palms

Listening to her sweet sounds, he couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to live in her forever.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, chaos sparking all over her skin. “I didn't think I could come this many times so quickly.”

Her hushed statement rushed to his head. “Sarah,” he moaned into her neck. “Fuck, Sarah.”

His mouth traced the curve of her neck before gently biting the ridge of her shoulder.

The prick of pain from his teeth combined with the way he was hitting her g spot in a steady, continuous rhythm had Sarah’s mouth falling open. “Oh. Quinn,” she moaned. “Just like that. Please don't stop.”

Feeling out of his mind with pleasure and pride, he rested his forehead on her back.

Only after he felt her tremble and pulse around him and chanting that he loved her, he let himself go, spilling into her with a loud groan he tried to muffle into her skin.

They stayed that way for a long while, his sweaty chest pressed into her back. He was a comfortable weight, pressing her into the mattress.

Quinn talked himself into moving and eased out, his wince matching the breath she hissed through her teeth. Before he could decide which side to roll onto, she was turning onto her back, and pulling him into her embrace.

Resting his head on her chest, he sighed.

Sarah smiled, tired but gratified and pushed a lock of hair off his forehead. She wanted to get up and go to the bathroom, but waited, knowing Quinn needed this extra affection.

“I don't…” he started to say, then trailed off, slowly tracing a circle around her belly button.

He had never felt supported and loved like he had today. Not only when she just let him cry, but when she reminded him that she loved the things about him that weren't his job.

Quinn hadn't known how much he needed to hear Sarah’s words until she was saying them. His whole family was so entwined in hockey that, even though he knew his parents loved him, it sometimes felt like his success and failure in the arena were wrapped up in their affection and approval. It was one of the reasons Jack always felt like the favorite child, as he had the most natural talent.

“You don't?” she urged when he didn’t say anything else.

He shook his head and took a steadying breath. “I feel like I don't deserve you.”

A little smile played on her lips, “I feel that way sometimes, too, but I'm not really sure it's about deserving. Everyone deserves love.”

She paused for a long time playing with his hair. It relaxed Quinn, causing him to practically melt into her.

“I'm glad we're both willing to put in the work and try to meet in the middle,” she said quietly.

He agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her breast.

As they stayed that way for a long time, Quinn felt cocooned in her love and hoped she felt the same.

“Okay,” she said a little while later, starting to feel sticky and itchy, “I’m sorry, but I really need to shower, or at least rinse off.”

They took a quick shower, and Quinn changed the fitted sheet as she redid her skincare.

When they finally fell asleep tangled together, she in a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, and he in his boxers, it was well after three.

After sleeping like the dead, Quinn woke close to ten, still feeling that strong swell of gratitude easing the disappointment in his chest.

If anyone in his family had heard them, they were all excellent actors, and didn't say a thing.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes smut #qh43 #jack hughes #luke hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey romance #hockey fic

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puck-luck · 6 months ago

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new beginnings | june 17 - june 23

note: this chapter contains NSFW content. it also contains references to (tw) nudes being leaked (spoiler alert), so if that bothers you or triggers you in any way, you may want to skip over that part. unfortunately, it is pivotal to the story. this chapter is 24.2k, so strap in. it will also be the last chapter for a little while (maybe two-three weeks) because i want to work on some requests and churn those out for my followers who aren't as passionate about this project as i am and some of you are. i need to feed everyone in our community, not just the STG Truthers!!

22:90 – HONEY

“So what happened while you were in the closet with Cole?” Honey asks, biting into a peach slice and gesturing with the remaining food. “We never had the time to discuss it.”

Bea blushes, the apples of her cheeks dusted in a sweet pink. She starts to giggle– the same reaction she has every time that Honey brings Cole up since the events of Seven Minutes in Heaven the day before.

“Okay, it can’t have been that good,” Honey scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Quit your giggling and tell me what happened.”

“Okay, okay,” Bea says, taking a few deep breaths and calming down. She wipes under her eyes like she’s wiping away tears, but it’s an over exaggeration. Honey is unimpressed by the dramatics from her friend. “I’m only laughing because I severely underestimated him.”

“Severely,” Honey repeats, mouth wide open in surprise. “What happened?”

“So we go in the closet and I’m expecting to talk about Jack and his dick, like I told Cole I would if he spun and landed on me,” Bea says. She’s talking with her hands, waving her own peach slice at Honey. “But I get, like, two words out before Cole interrupts me and asks if I’m actually trying to sleep with everyone this summer.”

“Which you are,” Honey confirms. “So Jack told him?”

“I’m sure he did. I told Cole I was, and then he asked if I wanted him to make things easier for me.”

“What?”

“Then he kissed me and fingered me against the closet door and he made me come before our time was even up,” Bea reveals, counting off on her first three fingers and waving them in Honey’s face.

Honey gasps. “You’re kidding.”

“I am not. He just moved my panties to the side and fucked me with two fingers until I came. All the while, he was telling me about how badly he wanted to get his mouth on me,” Bea sighs, a faraway look in her eyes. “Then we went upstairs and he ate me out until I came three more times. Like, what the fuck?”

“Cole did all this?” Honey asks, barely able to believe it.

“Dude, Cole,” Bea confirms, nodding vehemently. “I told you. I underestimated him.”

“Has Quinn even made you–”

“No.” Bea shakes her head, cutting Honey off. “Quinn has only made me come twice in a night. Cole made me come four times and we didn’t even fuck.”

Honey’s mouth forms an ‘o,’ but she doesn’t say anything.

Bea nods, holding eye contact with Honey.

“That’s wild,” Honey says.

“Dude, I know,” Bea replies. “I adore Quinn and he’s still my favorite of the guys, but, like… holy shit.”

“Well, you didn’t even fuck,” Honey points out. “Maybe he’s bad in bed and he gives head to make up for it.”

“I don’t give a fuck. If I want head, I’m going to Cole,” Bea states.

“That’s lofty,” Honey says.

“I’m serious.”

Honey feels a little stunned, blinking to clear her head. She can’t believe that Cole– Cole Caufield, the giddiest and goofiest man that Honey has met in years– is secretly a master munch.

“Rank them,” Honey suggests. “Of the three that you’ve hooked up with, who’s the best? What are their scores?”

Bea pops the rest of her piece of fruit into her mouth, chewing emphatically. “Great question,” she says. “But also, why do you want to know? Are you interested in joining me this summer? You can’t have Quinn, but I’ll share the other ones.”

“Well, I don’t really want to mess around with any of them, but especially not Jack,” Honey replies.

Bea hums, frowning. “You’re right. I think I’ve committed to the timer idea we had, but it might be too mean as is. I might have to sweeten the deal so I don't feel like a bitch. I have an idea about how, but I’m not sure about it yet.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute. Let me think about this ranking thing.”

The girls fall into silence. Honey snacks on the rest of her peach slices, sucking the juice off of her fingertips. She cleans up her plate, walking into her kitchen and loading up the dishwasher.

“Can you get me a pencil and paper?” Bea calls. “I’ll love you forever.”

“You already do,” Honey responds with a roll of her eyes. “Are you actually giving it this much thought?”

“There are a lot of factors!” Bea defends herself, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. She cocoons herself in the blanket and seems to enter a conversation with herself in her mind.

Honey would laugh if she didn’t do the exact same thing in the car after her kiss with Jamie on the hike. She had actually spoken out loud to herself, weighing her options before eventually deciding that she needed to indulge Trevor at least once, just to see how she felt after.

The thing is, Honey was attracted to Jamie. She thought he was cute, she wanted to kiss him, and she enjoyed hanging out with him.

On the other hand: he wasn’t Trevor. Honey was drawn to Trevor inherently. That fact is still true after their rushed blowjob in the closet. It’s still true after Trevor’s desperate kiss. Honey hasn’t been able to shake the image of Trevor sinking to his knees and reaching for her. Honey knows she, like Cole, is good at giving head, but she hadn’t expected a reaction like that.

Trevor was boneless and easy, agreeing not to tell the boys. He was eying her mouth almost constantly after she made him come, leaning into her space and putting his hands all over her. He whined when she stepped away, a sound that Honey can pull from her memory and replay over and over. It was a carnal sound, drawn from the depths of Trevor’s chest, and she swears he hadn’t even made the sound on purpose.

Truthfully, Honey wants to see how far she can go with this. Trevor is frustratingly annoying, filled with jealousy that’s boiling over each time Honey starts to bond with the other guys, and he’s hard to get through to. He’s a challenge.

Honey wanted something easy, she really did, but Trevor bore his soul to her in the closet and it won her over. She couldn’t deny that she wanted him any longer and what happened, happened.

She hasn’t told Bea.

She really needs to tell Bea.

Honey’s just not sure how to broach the subject.

As she opens her mouth to blurt out a quick “I sucked Trevor off in the closet while you were upstairs and no one knows but me and him and I don’t know what came over me!,” Bea claps her hands and announces that she’s ready to reveal her ranking.

Honey snaps her mouth shut and gives Bea her full attention.

“I need to seduce Luke if I want to make this a comprehensive list,” Bea clarifies. “So it’s incomplete until I get with him.”

“Okay,” Honey acknowledges, gesturing for Bea to get on with it.

“Jack is on the bottom, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Honey agrees. She and Bea had had an intense discussion the previous day before going to the boys’ house about Bea’s experience with Jack. They had meant to talk about the encounter briefly, but Bea and Honey had started laughing and making jokes about how quickly it was over, and they accidentally lost track of time. They were almost two hours late to the boys’ house last night, but at least Quinn cooked dinner for the girls.

“I’m giving him a five and a half because I feel bad going lower,” Bea decides. “He’s got room for improvement and it was fine. I didn’t come, but he was good at kissing and he made the prettiest little noises.”

“Hmm.” Honey nods her head, keeping silent about her own opinions about a boy making ‘the prettiest little noises.’ She hasn’t heard Jack’s moans, nor does she want to, but there’s no way that Jack sounded prettier than Trevor did while Honey blew him last night.

“Next is Cole,” Bea says. “I’m giving him an eight-point-eight.”

Honey blinks in surprise. “Shit,” she says, impressed. “Without even fucking you, he’s almost at a nine?”

Bea reminds Honey that Cole made her come four times the previous night, dropping the detail that he never even took her dress off once they were upstairs. All he did was slide her panties down her legs and flip up the hem of her skirt, going down on her like it was the last night on Earth and he couldn’t be bothered to remove her clothes.

It’s appealing, to be honest. Honey might have to dig out one of her own sundresses and see if Trevor has a similar response.

Hmm. She hadn’t planned to hook up with Trevor again after that first time, but he was like a drug. Honey wants to see him be that soft and desperate for affection again. He’s sweet, so sweet, and Honey fears that she might like him a lot more than she wants to. She might even dare to hook up with him again.

She resents that fact. She can barely admit it to herself– nor will she admit it to Bea when she eventually tells her about Trevor. She sure as hell will not admit it to Trevor. He doesn’t need a bigger head.

“Quinn is number one, always,” Bea finishes.

Honey nods. There was no question about it.

“I give him a nine point seven. He loses part of a point because Cole made me come more times in one night than Quinn has.”

“Are you going to tell him that’s why he’s not a perfect ten?” Honey asks.

Bea thinks about it, tapping her chin. “I’d say no, but he’s so competitive that I think he’d really try to beat Cole’s record. I know that would be such a good night for me, so… honestly? I might tell him.” Bea pauses, then she barks out a laugh. “Should I reveal the scores to them? We could do, like, a PowerPoint night.”

“That could be funny.” Honey drinks from her water bottle, then swallows quickly when an idea pops into her head. She snorts. “What about the chalkboard that they use for pool scores?”

“What, you want me to erase it? I think Luke’ll get mad at me,” Bea laughs.

“No, I want you to recreate it,” Honey replies. “Dude, you don’t even have to tell them what it means. We could see how long it takes for them to notice that you’re rating them based on sex.”

“That’s so funny,” Bea agrees. She raises a finger, tilting her head. “But do you think they’ll feel objectified?”

“Great question,” Honey replies in the same tone. “What if you give them a reward at the end? The winner gets… something. Sex tape for when they go home?”

Bea hums, intrigued by the idea. “We’ll workshop that. I could be down, but what if the boys aren’t?”

Honey shrugs. “We’ll think of something. Wanna go to the fruit stand and the grocery store and buy a board?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bea says. “Let me just text Quinn and tell him that I can meet up with him when we’re done. Do you want to drop me off after?” She’s already pulling her phone out and tapping out a message, a text that seems way longer than just an ‘I’ll see you when we’re done.’

She’s been texting a lot lately. Honey cannot believe that Quinn enjoys receiving all these messages.

“What do you guys even talk about?” Honey asks, grabbing a threadbare cardigan that Sacha knitted for her a few years back.

“What do you mean?”

“You and Quinn,” Honey clarifies. “What do you guys talk about?”

They walk out of Honey’s house and to her car. Bea turns on the stereo, turning on her favorite music like she always does.

“We talk about a lot of things,” Bea says. “We talk a lot about hockey and his family. He told me about his ex-girlfriend the other day. It’s over between them, for good, but he misses her.”

Bea pauses, looking down at her lap.

“He misses her?” Honey repeats, incredulous. “And he told you that?”

Bea sighs, rolling her neck back to stretch her muscles. She’s stalling.

“Bea,” Honey insists.

“It’s not a big deal,” Bea says quietly, shaking her head. “We’re not exclusive, I’m not dating him.” She scoffs out a laugh. “I’m fucking his brothers and his friends. I think he’s allowed to miss his girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Honey corrects.

“Ex-girlfriend,” Bea amends. She sighs again. “It’s fine, really. I want him to be open with me. I want to talk to him about everything. Unfortunately, that includes his exes.”

“You want to talk to him about everything?” Honey teases.

“He’s a great guy,” Bea says simply. She purses her lips and sucks her teeth before adding, “I think if I wasn’t having a Slut Summer, and I didn’t live in Litchton, I would want something more. But we’re having fun, and he’s leaving at the end of the summer, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Baby-Bea, you don’t actually believe that,” Honey says.

“I do. It’s just a summer.” Bea holds her hands up in surrender. “And he’s just a guy.”

Honey doesn’t reply. She just hums out a little tune along with Bea’s music, patting the steering wheel. They pull into the grocery parking lot and make their way across the parking lot. Bea is still singing the last song that played on their drive, and she and Honey are holding hands, swinging their interlocked fingers back and forth in big waves. Bea is skipping.

He’s there.

Honey stops dead in her tracks, right in front of powdery blue minivan. Her sudden stop yanks Bea’s arm back and she whirls to face Honey.

“What?” She asks, her song dying out with a giggle that fades into a concerned frown.

“I blew Trevor in the closet last night,” Honey rushes out, entirely at a normal volume.

A mother and her teenage daughter make a face when they pass Honey and Bea, certainly overhearing the sentence.

“What?” Bea repeats.

Honey clears her throat, borderline gagging on her breath. “He’s sitting at the fruit stand with a bouquet of flowers.”

“What?” Bea raises her voice, eyes widening as she twists. She squeezes Honey’s hand, clutching it tightly. When she spots the boy, she claps a hand over her mouth.

“Oh my God,” Honey breathes out, feeling sick. She covers her own mouth. “I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh my God,” Bea repeats, a smile splitting her face.

“You cannot talk to him,” Honey hisses. She holds Bea’s hand with a vice grip, keeping her from running towards him. “Bea, you can’t.”

“I have to,” Bea says, pulling Honey along. They struggle forward bit by bit until Trevor notices them and stands, smiling like a dope.

His eyes are on Honey’s. He doesn’t even look at Bea until she speaks.

“Trevor, those flowers are gorgeous!” Bea chirps, sounding extra bubbly. “What are they for?”

Trevor’s smile turns to a sharp glare when Bea snatches at them. He pulls them out of her reach and scowls. He keeps his mouth shut, but Honey knows there’s something crossing his mind.

“Go inside,” Honey growls, pushing Bea away.

Bea practically goes limp, smug and gigging about having caused Honey’s struggle. Eventually, Honey tips her weight and she goes, stumbling into the store with a cackle.

Then, Honey turns back to Trevor.

He thrusts the bouquet at her and bites his lip in a tiny smile.

Honey brushes them away with the back of her hand. “What are you doing?”

“I didn’t know what time you were coming to the stand today, and I didn’t want to miss it like last week, so I showed up when they opened, and bought these flowers around lunchtime because I needed to do something… or else I’d go crazy…” He speeds through the lengthy sentence, trailing off at the end. “I already sound crazy.” He looks down, bouquet drooping.

Honey feels lightheaded. She’s burning up. She presses the back of her hand against her forehead, staring at the boy. “Yeah,” she agrees. She nods. “You sound fucking crazy.”

Joan clicks her tongue at Honey, but returns to her magazine when Honey’s eyes flicker over to her.

“We are in public,” Honey says to Trevor, speaking through her teeth. “I told you that you couldn’t tell anyone.”

“I didn’t,” Trevor denies, tone combative.

Honey almost bursts out in laughter. “What part of showing up in public with flowers for me is not telling anyone?”

“Well I didn’t– I didn’t say it,” Trevor stammers out, defending himself desperately. He shuffles back, waving the flowers between them.

Honey stomps over a few petals that fell from the bouquet when Trevor used it like a sword to keep her back. “I could strangle you.”

“Please don’t,” Trevor pleads.

Honey takes a deep breath. She clenches and unclenches her fists at her sides. “What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t want to make you mad by not showing up,” Trevor explains. He nods, drops his gaze to the flowers in his hand and offers them again to Honey. “And the flowers are ‘cause I like you.”

Honey gasps, covering her face with her hands. “Trevor, we hooked up once,” Honey whimpers out, unable to believe it. “I don’t like you!” She chokes a little from the panic.

Oh, my God, he assumed that Honey wanted more.

“Trevor, I’m not looking for a relationship,” she whisper-shouts.

She sneaks a peek at him, and he’s blinking stupidly, back pressed against the wall of the building behind the stand. The flowers are pulled up against his chest, crushed beneath her own. She hadn’t realized they were so close. She steps away.

“You– you’re not?” Trevor asks, staying still. “But you said you were thinking about me–”

“Yes, I was thinking about you. I’m ovulating, Trevor!” Honey feels faint again and turns away from him, back to the edge of the road.

Trevor follows after her, reaching for her hand. “That’s fine,” he says. He catches her fingers and slides the bouquet into her hand, closing Honey’s fingers around the stems. “Honey, we can do whatever you want. I will take anything you give me.”

Honey lurches forward like he just slapped her on the back. She presses a hand to her chest. “Trevor, it was one blowjob. You know that, right?”

He pales a little, letting his fingers fall from her hand. Her fingers are slack around the stems. It’s a grouping of pink azaleas. The stems are a little stick-like against her skin. “You don’t want to go again?” Trevor asks.

“I don’t know,” Honey drawls. She brings the bouquet to her other hand, holding her hands together like a prayer. “...maybe?”

“Scruffy’s has live music on Wednesdays, I looked it up,” Trevor says.

The abrupt change of subject makes Honey blink in surprise. “I know,” she says. She loves Scruffy’s, but she usually only goes in the winter, when it gets dark early in the night.

“I thought you would like it. Go with me.” Trevor ducks his head to capture Honey’s gaze. “All the boys can come, and Bea too.”

“Bea can do what?” The girl asks, returning with a large whiteboard in her hands. A bag with a pack of dry erase markers dangles from her wrist.

“Come dancing with us at Scruffy’s,” Trevor explains in a rush to the deviant girl, just as Honey says, “Nothing, Bea, this doesn’t involve you.”

Bea’s eyes slide from Trevor to Honey. “I love Scruffy’s,” she says, nodding with a smug smile. “We’ll absolutely be there on Wednesday, Trevor. I will make sure of it.”

“Bea, I’m going to fucking kill you,” Honey hisses, her eyes narrow and full of fire. “I will not be driving you to see Quinn anymore.”

Bea snorts out a laugh, a look of delight on her face. “Trevor,” Bea calls, her eyes still glinting at Honey. “Will you drive me to your place right now so I can fuck Quinn in exchange for bringing Honey to Scruffy’s on Wednesday?”

“Absolutely I will,” Trevor agrees with a beam.

“This is kidnapping,” Honey hisses at Bea. “I’ll have you arrested.”

Bea giggles, then leans into Honey’s face. Her nose nearly touches Honey’s, scrunching with pride. “Quinn will bail me out,” she brags, teasing Honey.

She reaches up, taps Honey on the nose, then steps away. She loops her arm with Trevor’s and begins to walk off, taking the boy with her.

Trevor waves a goodbye at Honey, grinning like a fool. “See you Wednesday, Honey,” he bids, his mouth wide in a laugh and eyes squinted shut.

She’s left standing there, bouquet in hand. She watches them retreat, blinking and unable to identify how she feels.

There’s a tap on her shoulder.

When Honey turns, Joan hands her a bag of peaches, filled to the brim. “Your friend bought you some peaches, too. He said you’d like them more than his silly flowers.”

23:90 – TREVOR

Trevor is taking a break.

He just finished showering after a long training session outside with the boys. Before that, he and the guys had gone to Winston to find a tailor that could fit the Hughes boys for their NHL Awards suits. Ellen had been pestering the boys for a few days about the suits, wanting her sons to look sharp and handsome for the event. The excuse that the event was over a week away meant nothing to the boys’ mother, and Trevor decided a long time ago that he wasn’t going to disagree with Ellen.

He deserves a break, and today, he wants to sit on his balcony and watch the sunset.

The sun has just sunk below the mountains, leaving the sky a dark orange. The clouds reflect the color, painted across the horizon in swirling strokes. The air is thick with the smell of impending rain and the sounds of cicadas in the trees. There’s a bullfrog in the distance, always croaking when Trevor least expects it, and it sounds a lot like Trevor’s father’s snores.

They’ve been in Litchton for almost a month. Bedford has always been Trevor’s home, and Anaheim is the place where Trevor really learned how to be on his own, but Litchton is special. It’s a fixed place, as silly as that sounds– Trevor feels like nothing from the outside world can affect him here. He feels free.

“Can I join you?”

Jamie’s voice sounds from the balcony door behind Trevor. He’s soft-spoken, still treading lightly even though Trevor apologized for his behavior and tried to make things go back to normal.

Staying true to his promise, Trevor hasn’t told Jamie about the blowjob in the closet.

It’s killing him. He needs to talk it out with someone– especially after what happened yesterday. Honey doesn’t want a relationship. Trevor doesn’t know what he wants, just that he wants her. Honey can’t seem to figure out how she really feels about Trevor. Trevor knows exactly what he feels. He doesn’t want to let her go when he leaves at the end of the summer.

“Yeah, come sit,” Trevor agrees. He pulls one of the rocking chairs on the balcony closer to his own.

Jamie takes a seat.

They rock together, staring out at the mountains and woods in front of them. Breaking the silence, Jamie speaks first.

“You know, Honey says if you can count ten rows of mountains back, you’re in Tennessee.”

Trevor finds himself counting the rows in his minds immediately. The clouds are heavy today. The orange is already fading and he can’t see that far. Five rows, maybe the shadow of a sixth if he squints. “That’s cool,” Trevor replies.

Another silence washes over the space between them, but it’s shorter than the previous one. Trevor breaks it this time.

“What happened on the hike?” He asks. Trevor’s been dying to know about the hike since Jamie left with Honey on Saturday, especially considering how close the two seemed after going on the hike together. He knows that something happened, as if driven by his gut, and Trevor knows that he’s not going to be happy about it.

“We hiked, ate lunch. She asked questions about me and I asked questions about her while we walked. She’s a really cool girl, Z.” Jamie stares straight forward, one foot up on the railing in front of them.

“What kind of questions?” Trevor presses.

Jamie snorts and shakes his head, looking down at his lap then up at Trevor. “You wanna know?”

“Obviously, or else I wouldn’t have asked,” Trevor sasses, narrowing his eyes at Jamie.

“I asked her how long you two had been fucking,” Jamie reveals without hesitation. He laughs when Trevor’s jaw drops, then continues. “Then I asked her why she wasn’t fucking you yet.”

“Oh,” Trevor says. It’s all he can think to say. There’s nothing else he could say.

“And then we conspired against you to make you jealous, so that you would make a fucking move. She was going to play Seven Minutes in Heaven until she got to go into that closet with you, even if it took all night.” Jamie nods when Trevor tilts his head at him, flabbergasted. “Z. Honey and I don’t want each other. Sure, we kissed, but she wants you. She wants you.”

“You kissed?” Trevor demands, all of his surprise turning to rage. “You kissed her?”

Jamie rolls his eyes. “Relax.”

“Relax? You kissed my fucking girl, dude,” Trevor snaps, shifting forward in his chair and facing Jamie.

Jamie takes a deep breath and shakes his head, closing his eyes in annoyance. “Jesus-fuck, Trevor. It is a miracle that the other boys haven’t caught onto this thing that’s happening between you and Honey. You’re even luckier that Quinn’s keeping your secret.”

“Quinn knows?” Trevor asks, taken aback. He knows that he gets on the older boy’s nerves and, usually, Quinn uses any ammunition he has to take Trevor down.

Jamie stares at Trevor for a minute, amused yet baffled by Trevor’s ignorance. “Bea knows,” Jamie tells Trevor. He runs a hand over the back of his neck, then gestures at Trevor. “And if Bea knows…”

Trevor feels stupid for assuming otherwise. “That makes sense,” he concedes, pressing his lips into a thin line out of frustration for not realizing that on his own sooner. He reverts to anger. “You still kissed my girl.”

“Okay,” Jamie says. “Let me put it like this: I show up here, you guys tell me that there’s a girl hooking up with everyone, then a beautiful girl shows up at our door and drops a book off for you. She checks me out, blushes when I talk, even stutters a little bit, so I assume she’s the one who’s having her Slut Summer. When she comes back the following night, I learn that she’s not the one who’s hooking up with everyone, but she’s still gorgeous and not tied down. You hadn’t told me that you wanted her yet. I take a body shot off of her, and it’s hot, and we hang for the rest of the night. Then, she invites me on a date the following morning. You wouldn’t kiss her?”

Trevor scowls, wanting to grow talons and sink them into Jamie’s neck. Part of it is that he’s still pissed Jamie touched Honey at all, but the other reason is that Jamie is being logical and reasonable. Trevor absolutely would have kissed Honey if he was in Jamie’s position. He resents it.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Trevor lies.

Jamie blinks at him, unimpressed.

“Okay, yeah, I would’ve kissed her,” Trevor amends. He sighs. “I still hate it.”

“I expected no less,” Jamie says. “You never really learned how to share, did you? Puck hog, girl hog… someone needs to put you back in preschool, buddy.”

“I’m not going to share her,” Trevor declares. “Honey is mine. I’ve never felt like this before, Jim.”

Jamie hums, acknowledging Trevor’s words. “Are you sick?”

“What? No.”

“This is new for you,” Jamie says. “You’ve never been the most… committed guy.”

“Okay, I’m not a fucking cheater, dude,” Trevor snaps, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, but you’re not exactly someone who wants to be with a girl long-term,” Jamie replies.

Trevor knows he’s right, but he doesn’t like the way Jamie says it. He refuses to respond, falling into silence with the boy next to him. The sky is turning navy and they can hear the boys yelling at the TV in the game room. They’re probably watching game five of the Cup final– Trevor hopes that it’s closer than the last game was.

“How was the blowjob?” Jamie asks.

Trevor jolts to face him again. “You know about that?”

“She told me that you’ve gone crazy because of it,” Jamie replies, digging his phone out of his pocket and clicking around for a second before handing his phone to Trevor. “She also said you were freaking out and that you bought her flowers. What were you thinking?”

Trevor takes Jamie’s phone and scrolls through the messages. Jamie and Honey have been chatting consistently since Honey dropped the boy off on Saturday. The final message is from about an hour ago and it’s Honey telling Jamie to go talk to Trevor about ‘the blowjob in the closet that made him lose his fucking marbles.’

“So what happened?” Jamie asks, taking his phone back from Trevor.

Trevor thinks about what to say. There are so many explanations that he could give Jamie, but they all boil down to one thing.

“She’s so beautiful,” Trevor sighs. He shakes his head, unable to believe the words that are about to come out of his mouth. “I need her like I need to breathe.”

Jamie is silent, speechless from the shock of Trevor’s statement. “What the fuck?” He asks, laughing nervously.

Trevor continues, explaining himself. “I know I just met her, J, but she’s so special. I need her in my life and I will take whatever she gives me.”

“What if she only wants to hook up?”

“Then we’ll hook up.”

“What if she only wanted to do it this one time?”

“Then I’ll keep trying to convince her to give me another chance.”

“What if she refuses you and hooks up with Jack instead?”

“I’ll kill him.”

A smile breaks over Jamie’s face and he nods slowly. “You’ve got this all thought out.” He slaps his hands over his knees, then stands. The chair rocks behind him from the force of his movement. “I’ll report this exchange back to my boss.”

“Tell Honey that I’m excited to see her again tomorrow and that she needs to save me a dance,” Trevor says.

Jamie sucks in a breath between gritted teeth. “Oof,” he breathes out. “She already declared that I was her dance partner for the whole night.”

“Don’t make me pull your shoulder out of its socket,” Trevor threatens with a chilly smile.

Jamie just raises his eyebrows subtly and smirks, walking back inside the house and leaving Trevor alone.

The stars are starting to twinkle above Trevor’s head, and he tilts back in his rocking chair to search the sky. He’s nearing the end of his book and he’s been challenging himself to find the constellations he’s been reading about.

He wishes Honey was sitting next to him and staring at the same stars. Although imaginary, he can almost feel her fingers intertwined with his.

24:90 – HONEY

Hiding from Bea was never actually an option. Honey knows that in her heart of hearts, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try. Her best bet was somewhere around The Reading Nook, since Scruffy’s is just down the road and they’re leaving directly from work.

Bea actually brought clothes for Honey to change into when she showed up to work before lunch– a cute denim maxidress that has tiers of different washes on the skirt. It’s exactly something Honey would wear to Scruffy’s in the winter, with a little cardigan to keep her warm enough while dancing. This is the outfit that Honey’s wearing now, having been forced to change during her break by a watchful Bea.

Honey is tucked between two of the stacks and a beanbag chair, hoping that her corner of refuge will be enough for Bea to leave the store without her. Then, Honey will sneak to her car and drive home, effectively avoiding Trevor for another day. She can’t avoid him forever, but she might be able to make it a little while longer before she’s forced to face him.

She decided that Trevor’s a lunatic who is looking too much into the relationship he and Honey share. She gave him one blowjob and he bought her flowers– a disproportionate response that left Honey reeling on Monday. She might’ve watered the flowers and thrown them in a vase on her bedside table, but that doesn’t mean she wanted to accept the bouquet. Accepting the bouquet is too real– it would give Trevor too much hope.

He forced it into her hand and offered her anything she wanted, so Honey thought about it. She wants him to not be so fucking obvious.

Honey has lived in Litchton for a long time. In that time, she’s gone on two dates: one, with Gillian’s grandson while he was visiting for Christmas that went okay. The second was with some guy from a dating app that Bea made Honey download, and that date ended in tears because Honey was overwhelmed by the boy’s cologne– the same one that she used to know all too well when she and Bea were still living in Charlotte.

The townies know Honey as an independent girl. They know her as a person who won’t stand for nonsense, a person who isn’t interested in frivolous things. She likes what she likes and her routine stays the same.

Trevor has completely overthrown her routine.

In a normal summer, Honey goes through book after book, reading and writing and having fun. She creates terrible art that never sells in the town-side yard sale in August. Bea drags her to Winston or Boone one or two weekends a month and they talk to guys their age until Bea finds someone to flirt with. Then, Honey heads back to Litchton to her own bed and usually has to wake up early to pick Bea up from her conquest’s house.

Now, they’re spending every weekend with the boys. Bea is even spending non-weekend days with the boys. Honey walked herself into a trap by declaring that the fruit stand was her and Trevor’s “thing,” whereas it’s supposed to just be hers. They’re going to the lake not to tan, but to boat with the guys. Bea is satiated and happy, giggling and glowing the way she does when she’s seeing a guy she really likes.

This is Bea’s ideal summer and it’s quickly turning into Honey’s hell.

She’s not a relationship girl. She hasn’t been for years, opting to be independent and satisfied with herself, refusing to worry about being alone. That life, that stress, was left in Charlotte when she moved away. She’s determined to keep it that way.

Which means that she cannot, under any circumstances, hook up with Trevor again. She cannot give him a reason to believe that this was more than a one-night thing. It was just a moment of weakness and it can’t happen again.

Honey has taken some necessary precautions. She texted Jamie the previous day and begged him to dance with her all night, get drinks with her at the bar, sit at the table when she’s sitting at the table, and never leave her side. He swore he would, even pinky-promised over the thread of messages.

It’s that fact that helps Honey remain calm when Bea finds her and rips the beanbag out of her clutches, pulling her up from where she’s curled up on the floor.

“I can’t believe you tried to hide from me and made me close the entire store alone,” Bea complains, dragging Honey to the back room to grab their purses before heading out. She steals Honey’s keys rather than using her own to lock the bookstore, effectively taking away Honey’s only means of escape– her car. Had Honey bolted, like she considered, there would be no way to get into her vehicle and outrun Bea fast enough without her keys.

Damn Bea. She thinks of everything.

They walk down the street, arm in arm. Bea’s brown cowboy boots click against the sidewalk with each step and the ruffled sleeves of her romper sway with the summer wind. The romper is a pastel yellow with white daisies dotting the fabric. It’s short, short enough that Jack will probably drool over her and Quinn will make sure his hand stays on Bea’s waist all night.

The walk to Scruffy’s takes less than five minutes. They don’t even have to cross the street. Scruffy’s is the building on the corner of the main road, the last thing you see before you drive past the town of Litchton and head further up the mountain. Past Scruffy’s, there are only ranches, farm life, and Honey’s little abode. Scruffy’s is like the end of civilization.

It’s been in business for generations. Scruffy’s is where Earl and Vera met, funnily enough, more than half a century ago. Last year, their anniversary fell on a Tuesday, and Vera came into The Reading Nook gushing about how they’d been married for fifty-three years officially. Honey had asked and she had gotten the full story– that Vera and her girls (the same knitting group) went dancing in Scruffy’s after their senior prom ended and it was there that she was asked to dance by the most handsome man in the joint. That man was Earl, who won Vera over with just once dance, and they were dating by the end of the night. He was sent to Vietnam less than two months later, but they were married in a short ceremony the night before he was shipped off. Earl was 21. Vera was 17.

It’s a little gross to Honey, but she’s impressed that they stuck it out this long. She’s impressed that Vera and Earl still love each other, even after fifty years. They had multiple kids, lived in the same small town their whole life except for Earl’s stint in ‘Nam, and they’re still happy. Part of the reason why Honey came to Litchton after leaving Charlotte is because of relationships like Vera and Earl’s– they stand the test of time up in the mountains. Everybody finds their person.

Honey loves Scruffy’s because it represents the culture of Litchton. It’s one of the longest-running businesses in the area. It’s a place where people go to meet, dance, and have fun. There aren’t many places like it anymore. Honey would much rather go to Scruffy’s than join Bea on a night out in Winston-Salem– it’s where she first learned to play pool.

Selfishly, Honey wonders to herself about the odds of stealing Quinn away from Bea for a night of pool. It would frustrate Bea to no end– and it might be the perfect revenge.

“Before we get in there, I want you to know that you’re not playing pool tonight,” Bea says as if she can read Honey’s thoughts. “And if I see you by the pool table, I’m telling the boys that you blew Trevor in the closet.”

Honey’s jaw drops. “First kidnapping, now blackmail? Who are you? What have the boys turned you into, a villain?”

Bea laughs, a twinkling sound that has her whole body rolling. “Baby, I was always a villain,” Bea says with a wink. “The boys are just encouraging me to be the worst version of myself.”

“Yeah, at my expense,” Honey shoots back.

Bea just grins. “Exactly!”

With that, Bea swings open the door and the girls step into the bar. It’s shabby and dive bar-esque, but the music spilling from the speakers near the stage transforms the place.

The band is made up of a group of local dads who have been playing in the area since they were teens, having abandoned their big dream of becoming rock stars to settle down in their hometown with their wives and families. Honey has hustled most of these guys before at the pool table, although she’s never been quite able to beat Andrew, who plays bass for the band.

Whereas the wood floor seems creaky when there’s silence in the halls, now it seems to glimmer beneath the dancing feet that adorn it. The exposed brick walls echo the laughter of drinkers in the booths, reflecting the cheers of when a new round appears as if by a miracle.

Bea leads Honey to the back of the bar, where they find the boys in one of the bigger booths. Quinn is sat on the edge of the booth next to his brothers and he easily pulls Bea onto his lap, perching her on his thigh. Honey stands at the end of the booth, her palms flat against the table separating the groups of boys.

“You can sit right here, Honey.” Cole offers his own thigh, gesturing to the “seat” like Vanna White.

Honey forces a smile onto her face. “I’ll stand.”

“No, you don’t have to stand,” Trevor jumps in, trapped between the wall and Jamie on Cole’s side of the booth. “We can find you a chair.”

“It doesn’t look like you’ll be escaping anytime soon to find me one,” Honey retorts. She’s pleased that he’s stuck in the booth, but she’s still itching to put some distance between them. “Jimmy-Jam, want to go dance?”

“Sure, Honey,” Jamie says with a smile, nudging Cole so the boy can let him out of the booth.

“Oh, that’s too cute,” Bea coos. “Honey and Jam. You’re like a little kindergartener’s lunchtime sandwich.”

Honey and Jamie, now standing next to each other, turn and make eye contact. They evaluate each other briefly, then Jamie shrugs. “I guess it is like that.”

Honey sees Trevor frown, but puts the image out of her mind. Focusing on Trevor leads to disaster (like in the closet), which leads to even more disasters (the bouquet of flowers and Trevor tripping over himself to date Honey), so Honey really ought to avoid him altogether. She drags Jamie off, across the bar and towards the dance floor, finding a place near the stage. They’re dancing with the music on one side and the old, 1950s pinball machine on the other.

Honey loses track of time, spinning with Jamie under the dim light of the bar. The spotlights are all trained on the lead singer of the band, a man named Arn who is still desperately clinging to the hair left on his head.

She and Jamie laugh and talk as they dance, having the best time. It’s Jamie’s last night in town, he reveals during one of the slower songs of the set. He’s driving back to Charlotte tomorrow with Trevor, flying out of North Carolina and back to Toronto around two in the afternoon. The men are singing ‘Amarillo By Morning’ by George Strait and Honey is overcome with a brief feeling of sadness.

“You’re really leaving?” Honey asks. “So soon?”

Jamie smiles, sympathetic and sad. He nods gently, squeezing Honey’s hand in his own. “Z only booked me for a week.”

“Cancel your flight.” Honey pouts, resting her forehead on Jamie’s shoulder, pulling him closer with the hand on his shoulderblades. “You should stay.”

Jamie drops a kiss on the crown of her head, then rests his chin on top of where he laid his lips. “I’ll text you all the time.”

Honey wishes she could stomp her foot and put a petulant glare on her face until Jamie relents, but she knows it’s just not realistic.

“I should warn you,” Jamie whispers into Honey’s hair. “Trevor’s coming over here and he’s not going to take no for an answer.”

Honey looks over her shoulder and catches Trevor’s eyes as he approaches. He’s determined, staring directly at Honey.

“May I?” Trevor asks when he makes it to the pair, nodding to Jamie in a dismissal.

Honey feels betrayed the moment Jamie lifts her hand to his lips and plants a kiss on her knuckles. He’s got a hint of laughter glimmering in his eyes and if she weren’t so sad he’s leaving tomorrow, she would pop him on the noggin for abandoning her.

Jamie hands her off to Trevor, placing her palm in his, and Honey suddenly feels shy.

Trevor pulls her close, reaching his arm around her waist and clutching at her opposing ribs. Her hand rests in his, just inches away from their bodies. Her other hand slides across his back and her fingertips brush the hair at the nape of his neck. She peeks over Trevor’s shoulder, watching Jamie walk away.

The band is playing something more upbeat now, a modern country song that Honey vaguely recognizes.

Jack and Bea are dancing off to their left, halfway across the dance floor in the direct middle, and Jack is trying to spin himself under Bea’s arm. She’s giggling and Jack tumbles against her, crowding her space. His hands find Bea’s hips and he sways against her, leaning in to touch his nose to Bea’s own. She throws her arms around his neck and allows him to dip her, pecking his lips on the way back up.

Trevor’s not as energetic. He sways with Honey, but his touch is more like a grasp than a lead. Honey aches.

“Why didn’t you ask Jamie to stay longer?” Honey asks quietly. She’s embarrassed to ask the question at all, embarrassed to admit that she’d grown so fond of the boy. She knows that they’re all just visiting, but saying goodbye to Jamie is a daunting task that makes Honey think of why she left Charlotte.

“I did,” Trevor replies, surprising her. “I asked him if he would stay for another week, but he’s anxious to get back to his buddies and training. He’s got his own summer routine.” Trevor’s temple presses against Honey’s own, his mouth hovering right next to her ear. “He only came because I was desperate.”

Honey fails to respond to his statement with anything more than a hum. She’s distracted, watching the remaining boys at the table polish off a pitcher of beer. Quinn stands to get more and brushes off Bea’s invitation to come dance with a good-natured wave.

The band starts to play a cover of one of Bea’s favorite songs, a duet between a man and a woman that Honey only remembers because of how anguished the couple sounds. The lyrics of the song are something about begging for time to come back and Honey grimaces at how real the song feels.

“I wish he didn’t have to leave,” Honey admits, the pout on her face feeling permanent.

“Me too,” Trevor says. It’s reassuring. “I’ll miss him.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor steps away, raising his hand and guiding Honey underneath it. He guides her through a series of steps, surprising Honey with his sureness and precision. She ends up facing the stage, her back pressed against Trevor’s chest.

“How do you know how to dance?” Honey asks, a little laugh affecting her words.

“Cotillion and lots of weddings in the summers,” Trevor replies, spinning Honey away and then pulling her back into their original position. He smiles, inches from her face. “I know my way around the floor, just never really had a partner to dance with.”

Honey’s smile fades as he reaches the end of his sentence. She pulls away from him, dipping her head to avoid his eyes. Her hands fall to her sides, then she hugs herself, shaking her head. “We’re not partners, Trevor,” Honey says. “That isn’t what this is.”

Trevor’s own hands fall to his pockets. He’s got jeans on, and some creased white sneakers, and it’s the most dressed up Honey has ever seen him. He looks normal, like any other guy that she would dance with in another bar– in another life.

“What is it, then?” Trevor asks. He’s not pushy. He doesn’t sound curious. He just sounds resigned.

“A mistake,” Honey whispers, rubbing over the goosebumps on her arms to try and soothe them away. “We hooked up once, Trevor.”

“Honey.” Trevor’s face falls and it’s a sight that makes Honey want to run for the hills. “It wasn’t a mistake.”

Honey bites the inside of her cheek, thinking over her next words carefully. “You’re reading too much into it.”

“And you’re running away from it. Give me a chance, Honey,” Trevor implores, reaching for her hand again. “I promise, I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I just want you to give me a chance.”

Honey pulls away. “I can’t do this again, Trevor.”

“I need you,” Trevor says.

The words settle in Honey’s stomach like a cinderblock at the bottom of the lake. He’s telling the truth– Honey does not see an ounce of doubt in his eyes.

“Honey, I have not been able to think about anything except you for weeks,” Trevor continues. “Please.”

Honey steps back, her throat tight. Her eyes are darting every which way, just trying to avoid Trevor. She can’t hold his eyes for longer than a second, but a second is long enough to shake her head.

She leaves him on the dance floor, joining the boys at the booth. She squeezes herself between Jamie and Luke, leaning into her friend’s figure. Jamie wraps his arm around Honey’s shoulders and she buries her face in his chest, squeezing her eyes shut.

She’s right. She can’t do this again. She left her hometown after her last real relationship soured and rotted. Honey cannot let the same thing happen to her life in Litchton, especially not when Trevor’s going to leave at the end of the summer anyway. She’ll never see him again once he’s gone and things will go back to normal. It’s better this way.

25:90 – TREVOR

“I can’t believe you have to go,” Trevor says. He and Jamie are parked in the daily garage outside of Charlotte’s airport.

“You’re the one who booked the ticket,” Jamie replies, the same excuse he’s used every time Trevor has brought up the end of his stay in Litchton. He’s got half of a smile on his face as he looks at Trevor.

“You could’ve changed it,” Trevor argues.

Jamie scoffs, laughing. “Dude.” He opens the passenger door and starts to climb out of the car. “You’re never going to make any moves on Honey while I’m still here.” He slams the door shut and rounds the car, pressing the button so that the trunk starts to open.

Trevor gets out of the car and joins Jamie in the back. He hops up and sits on the edge of the trunk, letting his feet dangle. “Was she serious about what she said to me last night?”

Jamie furrows his eyebrows. “What did she say? She didn’t tell me anything.”

Now it’s Trevor’s turn to be confused. “She didn’t say anything when she went back to the table?”

“No,” Jamie says. “Should she have?”

“I mean…” Trevor trails off.

“What did you do?” Jamie groans, rubbing a hand over his face. He grabs his carry on and sets it on the ground next to him.

“I didn’t do anything, really,” Trevor replies. He looks at his nails, then brings his index finger to his mouth to bite off a hangnail. “She just… shut down.”

“What did Honey say?” Jamie repeats, voice hard. He’s staring at Trevor now, eyes full of disdain.

“That hooking up with me was a mistake and she can’t do it again,” Trevor says begrudgingly, a sarcastic smile on his face.

“That’s… weird. I’m going to call her when I get through security.” Jamie extends the handle of his carry on, then kicks the bag so it’s perched on two of its wheels, ready to roll out. “You should go to the store when you get back. You finished that book today, right?”

“Yeah, this morning,” Trevor confirms.

“Return it. Buy it, I don’t care. Just talk to her– you can win her over.” Jamie shrugs. “I know she’s got some baggage that she doesn’t really like to talk about, but you could always ask. That’s how I won her over.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you got to kiss her,” Trevor grumbles.

Jamie takes a deep breath. “On that note, I’m out.” He reaches out to pull Trevor onto his feet and into a hug, clapping him on the back. “Thanks for the week, Trev. Don’t let her push you away, really. She likes you, I can tell. She’s just not ready to admit it yet.”

Trevor pulls away, dapping Jamie up as he does so. “I’ll try.”

“Just be yourself,” Jamie corrects. “Don’t try too hard.”

“Yeah, you’re right, she’d hate that,” Trevor says, chuckling to himself a bit.

“She’d hate that,” Jamie confirms at the same time.

They stand in the parking garage for a moment longer, chuckling until their laughter dies in the wind. Trevor clears his throat and smiles, pulling Jamie in for another hug.

“Have a safe flight, Jim,” Trevor says.

“Have a safe drive, Z.” Jamie begins to walk away, raising his hand over his head in a wave. “See you when the Ducks play the Flyers.”

“Yeah, if neither of us gets traded– again– before that,” Trevor adds. He closes the trunk of the car and climbs back behind the steering wheel.

“Get over it!” Jamie’s voice is distant, echoing off the cars.

Trevor responds by slamming his door and laying on the horn.

He pulls out of the garage, paying the toll, and finds his way to the highway. He’s heading north to Litchton and he’s got about an hour of interstate time before he pulls off and takes the winding mountain roads the rest of the way.

Trevor spends all of that time trying to stop thinking about Honey. He plays his music and sings out loud. He rolls his windows down and lets the wind wash over his face, messing up his hair in every direction. He even tries out an audiobook, which he hates, and turns it off within five minutes of starting it.

The drive goes by faster than he thinks it will, or maybe it’s just getting easier each time he does it.

Trevor feels a little bit like he does every time he heads back to Anaheim after the summer now that Jamie’s gone. The feeling never changes, even though he’s gotten better at managing it. It’s pure melancholy– knowing that he won’t see Jamie again for so long. It’s like when he leaves the Hughes boys or Cole, or even worse, when he visits home for a while and has to leave his family behind.

Trevor pulls into the driveway of the rental house, leaving the car running while he heads inside to grab his book.

He knows just the cure for this weird mood that he’s found himself in.

Honey.

From the kitchen, Luke asks Trevor what he’s doing, but Trevor pays him no mind. He’s busy. Once he’s got his book in his hand, he’s walking back out the door and taking off in the car.

He plows past Quinn, who is pulling back into the driveway after spending the night with Bea. That’s the best news yet for Trevor– if Quinn is only just now getting home from Bea’s place, then Bea is still getting ready to go to The Reading Nook. There’s a good chance that Honey is alone.

Trevor has to get there first– he has to talk to Honey without a crutch. He’s going to convince her that he’s worth it. He just has to be less… direct. The commitment to Trevor is what’s scaring Honey, he can tell, and her fear is the one thing that’s really holding them back.

After almost a month on the mountaintop, Trevor feels comfortable enough to take the curves up the mountain the same way Honey does, loose and fast. He makes it up the mountain in record time and pulls into the grocery store parking lot, but walks the opposite way.

He approaches The Reading Nook and finds the front of the store mostly empty. There are a few adults wandering around, but he doesn’t see Honey.

Trevor follows the echo of voices to the back of the store, through the stacks to the cozy children’s reading area, where Honey is perched on a stool with a short picture book in hand. There are about fifteen kids of different ages crowded around her, all giving her their rapt attention as she reads the story.

The book is familiar to Trevor– he was about the same age as these kids when his teacher read this book to his class for the first time. He doesn’t remember the name of the book, or the message, but he remembers the image of the dark-haired girl’s skin turning into rainbow stripes. Trevor’s face twists at the mention of lima beans, but he quickly realizes that he just forgot about that very important (and absurd) detail.

Honey hasn’t noticed him yet– she’s making faces at the children and doing different voices for each character. She’s making the toddlers giggle and the school-aged kids howl. Her nose is almost constantly scrunched up, accompanying a smile, and it’s infectious.

Trevor crosses his arms against his chest and leans on the edge of one of the stacks, admiring Honey. He’s hidden among the parents, smiling a little at the anonymity. In his mind, he’s acting out a movie scene where he’s waiting to pick his girlfriend up for a date and she’s running late because she’s nurturing the youth of the town. Trevor imagines Honey’s face lighting up when she spots him. He imagines Honey wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss when he approaches.

The real thing is not quite as romantic.

As Honey is closing the book, wiggling her eyebrows at the kids and laughing a little when they whine and beg for another story, she scans the faces of the parents around Trevor. When she spots him, he gives her a little wave, and her mouth straightens into a thin line. It’s the only indication that she’s seen him because she just keeps looking around the room.

There’s a little boy kneeling in front of her, pulling at her skirt and pouting when she waves him off.

“Luca, I’m not Bea,” Honey teases. “I’m a one story kind of girl and you got a long one today.” She taps his nose with a smile, which causes the little boy to giggle and grab at her fingers.

“It’s a shame, you know,” the mom next to Trevor says. “He loves it when she reads.”

“She’s entertaining,” Trevor agrees, not sure why she’s talking to him.

“Is this your first time at Story Time? I don’t think I’ve met you before. I’m Jessie,” the woman says, sticking her hand out for Trevor to shake. “Luca is mine. Which one is yours?”

Trevor shakes her hand, but lets out a relieved breath. “Trevor. I’m not a dad. I’m just here to drop my book off and I didn’t see Honey up at the counter.”

Jessie laughs. “Is Bea still not here? She used to be so much better about being here on time. It’s not like her to miss Story Time.”

“I think something came up,” Trevor covers, knowing full well that Bea and Quinn were tied up in the sheets until the early hours of the morning.

“I was 22 once,” Jessie says, a smile curving her lips.

“Mmm, and I heard rumors that you and Tyler used to drink at the water tower when you were 16,” Honey interrupts, sidling up next to Jessie and Trevor. The little boy, Luca, is attached to her side, hugging her thigh with one arm and sucking his thumb with the other. “So I can’t imagine the trouble you got up to at 22, Jessie.”

“A lady never kisses and tells,” Jessie replies, leaning in to press a kiss on Honey’s cheek. “Thank you for the amazing performance, as always. Luca wishes you would read more often. He misses you.”

“He barely has time to miss me now that his Mommy stays at home with him,” Honey says fondly. She reaches down to ruffle Luca’s hair and puts her hands under his armpits to lift him up. She sets the boy on her hip and presses a kiss to his forehead before handing him off to Jessie.

Jessie takes her son and sets him on her own hip. Luca wiggles in her grasp, reaching for Honey. He whines, lower lip wobbling when his mom won’t let him go back to Honey. “Maybe Honey can come hang out with you sometime soon,” Jessie soothes her son. She looks to Honey. “Mommy and Dad can go out to dinner.”

Honey giggles, cooing as she reaches to wipe the fat tears from the corners of Luca’s eyes. “I’d be happy to babysit my favorite little man. Just call me when you decide on a date night and I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Honey.” Jessie bounces Luca on her hip. “Say bye to Honey, baby.”

Still pouting, Luca raises his hand and waves. It’s less of a wave and more just the toddler flopping his wrist around so his hand moves, but Honey returns the wave nonetheless.

“Nice meeting you, Trevor,” Jessie calls as she walks away. Luca turns in her arms and his big eyes peer at Honey for as long as they can. She’s smiling at the boy until he and his mother are out of eyesight, then she turns to Trevor.

“What do you want?” Honey asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

It never fails to impress Trevor how quickly she can turn on and turn off her charm. Not that he’s not charmed by this. He’s always charmed by Honey, even when she’s being mean.

“I’m here to return my book,” Trevor explains, lifting the item so she can see the cover. “Or buy it, I haven’t decided yet.”

“You can’t buy it,” Honey says in a monotone voice.

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.” She walks off toward the counter and Trevor follows.

“That’s a stupid reason.”

“Well, it’s a stupid reason for a stupid person. Fitting.”

“Hey,” Trevor laments.

Honey looks up at him, sliding onto her stool behind the counter. She holds her palm out, ready for Trevor to balance the book on the surface. “Give me the book.”

Trevor holds onto the book with both of his hands, frowning at Honey. “No,” he replies. “Ask nicely. You’re being mean.”

“I could be a lot meaner,” Honey says, pointedly glaring at Trevor as she snatches the book from his grasp. She types something on the computer, then slides the book onto a cart behind her. When she turns around, she folds her hands on the counter and stares at Trevor. “Do you want your receipt?”

Trevor makes a face. “No, I don’t want my receipt. What–”

“Good. Get out.”

Trevor’s mouth is agape. He’s staring at Honey in bewilderment. “I thought Jamie talked to you.”

“He did.”

Trevor flounders, trying to think of a response for her curt, two-word sentence. It’s barely even a sentence! It doesn’t even have a predicate! He fails to think of an answer and stands uselessly at the counter, unmoving in front of Honey.

Honey waits. She watches him. They’re still for a good minute, just looking at each other until Honey pulls a book out from under the counter and opens it. She flips to a page about a quarter of the way through and begins to read.

Trevor is still standing in front of her.

The store has cleared out for the most part. A few children and parents are still in the kids section and an older woman is sitting at one of the tables near the back room, flipping through her own book.

Trevor leans down, crossing his arms and leveling himself against the counter. He sets his chin on his hands and waits for Honey to look at him.

“What are you doing?” She asks, barely glancing at him before turning the page and cocking her head to the side, paying extra attention to the new words on the left side of her book.

“I’m hanging out with you.”

“Why?” Honey’s lip curls in judgment and she scoffs.

“Because you cheer me up, and the boys wouldn’t get it.”

“The boys wouldn’t get what?” Her eyes linger on him a little longer this time before returning to her book.

“They won’t be sad that Jamie left, but I know you are. We can be miserable together,” Trevor says, batting his eyelashes at Honey.

She just looks him up and down, then pushes his arms off the counter.

Trevor straightens up. “C’mon, Honey. It’s hard to be apart from your friends, especially if they’re more like family. I was just hoping to see you.”

“Because seeing me makes you feel better,” Honey adds, unimpressed. She glares at Trevor for a moment, then turns to the next page of her book.

“I like hanging out with you. It’s easy to forget my problems when you’re around.”

“Good line.”

“It’s not a line, it’s actually how I feel.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize you were so in tune with your emotions.”

“You, of all people, should know that I’m a big fan of following the heart.”

“I couldn’t possibly care less about your heart, Trev–”

There’s a rustle of paper and a thud as the older lady sets her book down. “Honey,” she snaps.

Honey lights up at the interruption, looking over to the woman. “Yes, Ada?”

“Put the poor boy out of his misery,” Ada scolds, a tilted frown on her face. “You’re not helping him.”

“Ada–” Honey tries.

The woman raises her hand. “I don’t want to hear it. One of your friends is upset and you’re being rude to him.”

“I promise you, he’s not–” Honey says, but she’s interrupted again.

“I want you to take the day off tomorrow and spend it with him.” Ada nods at Trevor, then continues. “Because we spread kindness in this town. We do not perpetuate another person’s misery.”

Honey ducks her head. “Yes, ma’am,” she grumbles.

Ada picks her book back up and flips through the pages. “Now I’ve lost my page,” she complains. “Consider how Christ would view your actions, Honey, and how they affect others around you.”

Honey gawks at the woman, affronted and angry, shown by the tilt of her eyebrows. She snaps her jaw shut and looks up to the sky, thoughts racing behind her eyes and through her mind.

Trevor’s got an amused little smile on his face, but he wipes it from his expression before Honey can spot it.

“Well, you got what you wanted,” Honey snaps. “Bea will text you the directions. We’re hiking up Stone Mountain. It’s an hour drive from here. I’ll meet you there at ten. Don’t be late, or else I’m starting the hike without you.”

“Do you want me to bring a sandwich for you?” Trevor asks, careful not to argue with Honey. He remembers Jamie packing a lunch for Honey and he wants to do the same– maybe if he recreates Jamie’s hike, then he’ll have the same success.

Honey looks at him with disdain. “I’ll pack my own. Thanks. Go away.”

Ada hums, but doesn’t look up.

Honey cuts her eyes at the older woman, but plasters a smile on her face when her eyes return to Trevor’s. She turns her charm on, just for appearances. “Thank you for visiting The Reading Nook. Feel free to come back anytime.”

Her voice is sweet, customer service-y, but she’s glaring at Trevor and shaking her head ‘no’ as she says the words. She does not want him to return.

Trevor most certainly will be back, if only to plant a smacker on Honey’s boss and thank her for the set-up. “See you tomorrow, Honey.”

“Yep.”

Trevor walks away, but he catches another scolding from Ada to Honey as he walks away. It sounds like Ada wants Honey to attend church this Sunday.

Maybe he can convince Bea to bring him and the other boys along.

26:90 – HONEY

She’s standing at the trailhead, next to the information board. Honey’s been here a thousand times, the view at the top of the mountain being one of her favorites in all of western North Carolina, and Trevor is late. It’s 10:11 and she told him to be on time or else she would start without him. It was an empty threat, but now she’s really considering it.

Honey’s phone rings in her bag and she has to scramble to dig it out.

“Hello?” She asks, not glancing at the screen. There are only a few people that have her number and would know that she’s off work today. Those people are Ada and Bea– and Honey is pretty sure Ada isn’t calling her.

“Trevor wants to know where you are.” Bea’s voice is choppy due to the service being so finicky in this area.

“What? I’m at the trailhead. Right next to the sign. He doesn’t see me?” Honey asks, searching the parking lot. She raises a hand above her hand and waves. “I’m waving. Tell him to look for the girl who’s waving.”

“I don’t have two phones,” Bea snaps. “How am I meant to talk to you both at the same time?”

“Yes, you do,” Honey scoffs. Of course Bea has two phones– she’s at work right now. She can use the store phone to call Trevor and relay the message. “Use the phone at the Nook.”

Bea groans into the phone. “That’s so much work. Are you sure I can’t just give him your number?”

“Absolutely, I’m sure! What the fuck?” Honey exclaims, covering her eyes with her hand. “I told you no.”

“Okay, well, I didn’t listen. I already gave it to him, but he wanted me to call you first.”

Honey opens her mouth, a snarl rising up her throat.

“Have fun with your loverboy!” Bea laughs a little as she hangs up, the dial tone ringing in Honey’s ear.

Honey pulls the phone away from her ear and scowls to herself, closing her eyes and looking up to the sky to calm herself. Bea has been on her nerves lately. Honey understands that the girl wants what’s best for Honey, but good God– does she have to meddle so much?

The phone starts to ring in her hand, a (914) number flashing across the screen. Honey stares at it, letting the phone ring a few times before she answers it.

“Hello?” She asks as she answers, annoyed.

“Honey? It’s Trevor.”

“I figured.”

“Where are you? I’m at the trailhead.”

Honey blinks, then looks around her. “No, you’re not. I’m at the trailhead.”

“No, you’re not? I don’t see you.”

Honey looks at the information sign next to her. She reads the location in her head, then it dawns on her. She winces, covering her eyes with her hand again. “Are you in the upper parking lot?” She wipes her face, then her hand drops to her hip. “Look at the sign next to you.”

Trevor is silent on the other end of the call. After a moment, his sheepish voice fills Honey’s ear. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Honey sighs. “This is Bea’s fault. I’ll come to you.”

“No, I’ll come to you!” Trevor corrects, sounding like he’s already jogging back to his car. “Don’t move an inch. I’ll be there soon.”

He hangs up, leaving Honey standing next to the lower trailhead. She’s lucky that no one really wants to hike the five-mile loop that Honey chose, especially not in the summer, otherwise there would be a constant stream of people passing her while she waits for her date.

Not that it’s a date. She’s being forced.

Trevor is racing across the parking lot towards Honey before she knows it, catching her hand in his as he approaches and panting out an apology. “I didn’t know there were two different trailheads,” he says.

Honey pulls her hand away. “It’s okay. Bea should’ve told you.”

Unable to take a hint, Trevor just grins. “Well, now you have my number. We can just talk directly.”

“I already had your number. I don’t want to talk to you directly. That’s why I made you go through Bea,” Honey tells him, turning her back and starting up the trail.

Trevor follows after her, quickly falling into step next to Honey. “You already had my number?”

Honey hums, nodding. “Bea gave it to me.”

“Why didn’t you use it?” Trevor wonders.

“Because I didn’t want to.” Honey adjusts her bag on her shoulders. She keeps her fingers wrapped around the straps as she walks, just in case Trevor does something stupid like try to hold Honey’s hand.

“Honey, I really think you should just give me a chance–”

“Do you run, Trevor?” Honey asks, cutting him off.

“Not really. I’ll do sprints and stuff on the ice, but I’m not really a runner,” Trevor replies, making a confused face at Honey. “I broke my–”

“Cool.” Honey tightens the straps of her bag and looks down to make sure her shoelaces are double-knotted. “Race you to the peak. Just follow the trail.”

She takes off, putting distance between herself and Trevor. Honey hasn’t run consistently in a while, but she’s able to manage her breath well enough to run the two miles to the stone top of the mountain. Trevor plods along after her, but she loses him about a mile into the run.

Honey catches her breath once she breaks through the trees and steps onto the clearing of the peak. The stone is ashy and dry, but the different shades of stone across the face of the mountain give off the appearance of a waterfall.

Honey reaches into her bag and takes out her camera, looking through the viewfinder to capture the skyline. She takes a few pictures, even balances her camera on a rock to set up her own timer picture. Finally, she hears the pounding of feet against ground coming up the trail and she turns her camera on the entrance to the clearing.

She captures Trevor’s final moments in quick succession– the relief that the run is finally over, the way his breath continues to run away from him even as his feet slow, and the annoyance washing over his face at the sound of Honey’s laughter.

He stalks toward her, grimacing noticeably when he steps out with his left foot. Honey dances away from him, evading his grasp and snapping pictures as she goes, giggling at his annoyance. The more Honey steps away from Trevor, the harder he tries to catch her, and the harder it is for him to keep a smile from making its way onto his face.

Honey documents the whole thing– the transformation of his gaze from irritated to playful, the growing curve of his lips into a fuckass smile and a laugh, and the final moment when he snatches the camera out of her hand.

Trevor turns the lens on her, snapping away and getting all up in her face. She pushes him, and the camera, away when she notices him trying to zoom in up her nostrils. He’s so fucking weird.

Honey takes the camera back from him and tucks it into her bag, swapping the item for her lunch. It’s a little crumpled up from the time in her bag, but the food is still good. She reaches for her peach, looking to snack on the sweet fruit. She pauses when her hand brushes against the second peach she packed– the peach that she packed for Trevor.

“You know, you were right the other day,” Trevor says.

Honey can hear just how feigned his nonchalance is from the second he opens his mouth. He’s thought this moment out, probably reenacted an idealized version in the shower yesterday, but he’s still hesitant to say anything.

“I really haven’t spent enough time trying to get to know you.”

Honey’s head snaps up, eyes fixing on Trevor. That’s not what she expected him to say. She doesn’t know where she thought this was going, but it wasn’t here.

“I want to know you, you know?” Trevor continues with a shrug. “I don’t want to have you around just to have you around. I want to know everything about you.”

Bea’s voice echoes in Honey’s ears. “I want him to be open with me. I want to talk to him about everything.” The realization washes over Honey like a spill soaking into a paper towel. She feels sticky, a result of the understanding, and a little panicked. Trevor likes me the way Bea likes Quinn.

Honey ducks her head and studies the peach in her hand. It’s fuzzy and prickly against her fingertips, grating against the grooves of her fingerprints. She turns it over, moving the fruit from one hand to the other. It’s mostly red, dark and ripe. It’s got a bruise near the bottom and the stem is still intact. Honey picks it, twisting until it comes free, and she flicks it away.

Trevor keeps talking. Honey is barely listening, but he captures her attention again with an apology.

“I’m sorry I haven’t put more time into getting to know you– I was caught up in how I felt about you. It’s kind of shallow, but I think I didn’t try hard enough to talk to you because I felt like I already knew you.”

Honey stares at him, lips parted. They’re growing dry with each ragged breath she draws in, but she can’t speak.

“I feel… tied to you. You’re special,” Trevor explains, finally floundering over himself. Honey expects that he didn’t think he would get this far. “I’ve never had to try to prove myself to someone before, and I probably should’ve given up by now, but I just… I like you so much, Honey. I feel like I can’t lose you, and I don’t even have you yet.”

“You don’t even know me,” Honey says, a weak defense.

“That’s my problem,” Trevor agrees. “I haven’t even tried.”

“No, you haven’t.” Honey’s voice is far away, indicative of the mess of flames and smoke swirling around in her head.

“Will you let me get to know you?” Trevor asks. He has stepped forward, closing in on Honey, and the hem of her t-shirt has found its way between his thumb and index finger. He’s just feeling the fabric, unaware that he’s keeping her from stepping away with his featherlight touch. His mouth quirks at the edges and he gives her shirt a little tug. “I’m desperate,” he adds in the wake of Honey’s silence, looking a little amused at his own words.

Honey tears her eyes away from the pinched fabric between his fingers. She lets her bottom lip drop from between her teeth, an unconscious reaction to Trevor’s words that she finally recognized and corrected before she drew blood. Her hands are shaking, so Honey tightens her grip on her peach and clamps the fingers of her other hand on her wrist.

Trevor notices, of course he does.

“I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready,” he says, dropping his hand to his side. Honey misses the weight of it already. “I really will take anything you want to give me, Honey.”

“I can’t date you,” Honey says. “I can’t do that.”

“If I asked why, would you tell me?” Trevor prods delicately.

Honey shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Is it because of me?” Trevor asks, some reluctance seeping onto his face. He looks down and scuffs his shoes against the stone face of the mountain. “Is it because I’m in the NHL?”

Honey shakes her head.

Trevor barely catches the movement, only looking up at Honey when her silence stretches too long. “It’s not me?” He asks, his features softening.

Honey could cry. His concern, his relief, his overwhelming and obvious desire for her, and his ability to just come out and say it is too much. She lets out a breath, reaching out to pinch the hem of Trevor’s shirt the same way he held hers. She tugs him closer and Trevor comes easily, tilting his head and raking his eyes over her features in admiration. He brings a hand up to her jaw, thumbing over her cheek.

“It’s not you,” Honey tells him quietly. “I’m just… stuck.”

“What do you mean?” Trevor asks, matching her pitch. He traces the collar of her shirt.

“I moved to Litchton five years ago after some stuff happened in my hometown. It wasn’t pretty and I kind of, you know… swore off dating and everyone from Charlotte except Bea,” Honey explains, ducking her head to the side and sighing in the middle of her sentence. “So I can’t date you, Trevor. I’m not there.”

“We don’t need to date,” Trevor assures her. He pauses, then rolls his eyes and cringes. He forces his next words out, an edge cutting into his voice. “We can be friends if that’s what you want.”

“Oh my God, I hate you,” Honey sighs. “Obviously I don’t want to be your friend, Trevor.”

“Yeah, for a second I forgot that you hate me,” Trevor says. He twists his lips with an exaggerated “ugh,” then smiles at Honey. “I was thinking about the blowjob. It’s very hard to think you hate me when you’re swallowing my cum.”

Honey scoffs, clenching her jaw. “Fuck off.”

Trevor hums, pouting at her. “What do you want from me?”

She takes a deep breath, then glares at him through her eyelashes. She reaches into her bag and pulls out the second peach, dropping it in Trevor’s hand. “I want sex.”

“Now?” Trevor exclaims, looking around. There’s no one on the peak with them, but Honey shushes him anyway.

“Not now, you moron,” she chastises. “Why would we have sex now?”

“That’s a really good question,” Trevor says. He points at Honey, thinking for a moment. “I don’t know. I was just excited that you said that.”

Honey laughs and shakes her head. “Just sit down and eat your peach, Trevor.”

He nods, a big goofy smile on his face. Trevor plops down right where he stands, reaching for Honey’s hand and tugging her down to sit next to him. “Thank you for the peach.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So you were thinking about me,” Trevor teases. “Are you still ovulating?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Honey snaps, rubbing a hand over her face so that he can’t see the smile on her face. She only takes her hand away once her face smoothens itself out and she can look at him without blushing.

Trevor bites into his fruit and chews, watching Honey with an amused glint in his eyes. “Tell me more about you,” Trevor prompts through a mouthful.

“Well, for starters, I don’t like it when guys talk with food in their mouth,” Honey announces.

“Mm, I guess I’m out of the running.” Trevor leans against Honey, taking another bite.

Honey rolls her eyes, an unimpressed smirk taking over her mouth. “Just… shut up and I’ll tell you my favorite movie.”

Trevor lights up, then makes a show of zipping his lips, locking them, and throwing away the key. He bites his bottom lip and scoots closer, their knees touching.

Honey doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t tell him anything substantive about her life either. Trevor doesn’t push her, although he does ask her a few questions that she has to shake her head at– the first: the names of all the people who made her want to leave Charlotte, the second: if he could lick the peach juice off her lips, just to name two examples. He’s frustrating and annoying and a loser, but Honey would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy herself. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like Trevor’s company.

He tells her about his family on the way down the mountain. She tells him about how she doesn’t talk to her parents anymore. He tells her about his teammates and reveals a few embarrassing stories from the years he spent with the Hughes boys and Cole. Honey tells him about the times she and Bea would go out in the city and she’d hustle the pool players while Bea found a date. He tells her about how he broke his ankle this past year, and for a moment, Honey feels bad about making him run up the mountain after her. Then she remembers that he has her phone number now and he will certainly abuse that privilege, so she gets over her guilt quickly. Trevor talks about his life and Honey talks about hers– despite their differences, Honey likes hearing about his life as an athlete in California. It’s a side of life that she’s never heard about before.

About halfway through the hike, Trevor’s hand brushes against Honey’s and she almost reaches to intertwine their fingers. She can barely hold back.

When they make it back to the parking lot, Trevor walks Honey to her car. He tries to open the door for her, but it’s locked, so Honey laughs at him a little bit. He pinches her hip for laughing, then swats her keys out of her hand to unlock the vehicle himself. He successfully opens the door for her and hands her keys back, then leans against the vehicle, blocking Honey from shutting the door.

“Will you come over tomorrow?” Trevor asks.

“I think Bea already invited us over, so I’ll probably make an appearance.” Honey keeps her voice light, aloof.

Trevor is unimpressed, frowning at her. “How can I get you to promise to come over?”

Honey mulls the question over, taking extra time before she responds just to make Trevor squirm a little. “Can you promise me something?” She asks as an answer to Trevor’s question.

“Anything,” Trevor vows, sincere in his words.

“I don’t want anyone to know about this. How am I supposed to maintain my street cred if I suddenly act like we’re friends?”

Trevor chuckles a little, leaning down to press his lips to Honey’s cheek. They’re soft, but his skin is growing a tad bit scratchy. He must not have shaved this morning. “Whatever you want,” he says. “I promise to keep my mouth shut.”

“Then I promise to come over tomorrow,” Honey says with a smile. “Now, get away from my car before I run over your foot.”

“Yes ma’am,” Trevor drawls, raising his hands in surrender and stepping back.

Honey reaches out and closes the driver’s side door, hitting the lock button out of instinct. Trevor hears the click and frowns at her, his eyebrows scrunched together. Honey rolls her eyes then waves goodbye, pulling out of her parking spot and heading home.

Trevor passes her on the highway ten minutes later and Honey can’t have that, so they race the rest of the way to Litchton.

She wins. Obviously.

27:90 – TREVOR

“Stop texting me!!! I’m at work!!!”

This morning, Trevor grinned at his phone. “I only texted you once and all I did was ask what you’ve got on today”

“& I’m not answering that! Stop being a creep! I can’t stand you”

“Ok, so sit down. Can’t a guy get to know a girl over text?”

“I am not telling you what I’m wearing. Do not sext me at work.”

“Whoa, whoa. I only asked what you’ve got on. Got GOING on. You’re a dirty girl, Honey.”

“Oh My God. What is your fucking problem?? Don’t make me block you, Trevor.”

“:(”

After the events of the hike yesterday, Trevor has been using and abusing Honey’s phone number. He texted her that he had gotten home safely last night, which she hadn’t replied to. He texted her a goodnight message, which she hadn’t replied to. He texted her a good morning, to which she gave a thumbs up. Taking that as a good sign, Trevor typed out a question of what Honey had going on today, but then giggled at the potential double entendre and sent “What have you got on today?” instead.

He thought it would get him a reaction and the rewards he was reaping were so, so sweet. Talking to Honey, no matter how angry she was, was a joy.

Trevor wants to do it all the time. He likes her so much.

It feels impossible, but Trevor is even more connected to Honey than before. He’s on a high and has been since she told him that her hesitance is not his fault.

The relief leaving his body was almost comparable with the feeling of Honey’s mouth around the head of his cock.

And once that image entered Trevor’s head, he was helpless. He couldn’t think of anything else all day. Honey is coming over tonight, and he’s been very, very hard since this morning.

It’s getting harder to hide from the boys, too. Trevor can only sit with a pillow halfway over his lap for so long before one of the four immature goons notices and starts to chirp.

Trevor has reread his texts with Honey no less than six times since he sent his final sad face– now that Honey’s shift is just under an hour from ending, Trevor thinks it’s time to send her another message.

“When are you coming over? I miss you” Trevor types, not hesitating for a moment before he hits send. He grins at his phone like a goof, then tucks it into his pocket when Jack looks his way. Trevor pulls the edge of the pillow up to hide his erection from the boy. He’s really got to get his dick under control before the girls show up. He stands, drawing the eyes of the boys.

“I’m going upstairs,” Trevor says. “Holler for me when the girls show up.”

Quinn snickers from the corner of the couch, his laughter breathy and quiet. Other than that, no one says anything, eyes glued on the television once again. Cole had turned on some reality show that Bea recommended, and all the boys are enraptured.

Trevor pads upstairs, tugging his shirt off as he enters his bedroom. He collapses onto his bed, face down, and groans into his pillow. He stretches his limbs, feeling the joints in his shoulders pop. With a sigh, he rolls his hips once against the mattress before turning over and palming his cock.

He scrolls on his phone for a while, mindlessly watching Instagram pictures load and clicking through stories. He fists his cock over his shorts, just holding the length. He glides his hand down to cup his balls and turns his phone off, shoving it under his pillow.

Trevor feels himself out, squeezing and releasing his cock every so often. He’s not quite stroking, at least not until Honey’s face pops into his head again.

“I want sex,” she had said the previous day. To say that Trevor was down for that was an understatement– sure, he wanted to be around Honey in more than a physical way, but he’d be an idiot if he pushed the topic. He’ll win Honey over eventually, but for now, he’ll just make her feel so good that she forgets she ever disliked him at all.

He can’t seem to decide which fantasy he wants to focus on while he takes care of his problem– it’s like every possible sexual encounter he could have with Honey is flashing through his mind at a rapid pace. He considers her hands, then her mouth, her tits, her pussy, over and over again, never deciding on one image as he starts to move his hand over his cock.

Trevor loses track of time and most of his clothes in the passing minutes. He’s only just wrapping his hand around his bare cock, imagining Honey’s soft lips against his own and her delicate fingers under his, when someone opens his bedroom door and gasps.

Trevor flinches, immediately scrambling to cover himself up with his blankets. “Dude!” Trevor exclaims, expecting to see one of the boys in his doorway. “Knock much?”

When he turns to face the intruder, Trevor pales when he sees that it’s Honey. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is open, one hand frozen on the doorknob and the other covering her heart like she’s a grandmother clutching at her pearls.

“I’m so sorry,” Honey rushes out. “I was just coming up here to yell at you for being fucking annoying, I didn’t realize you were… occupied. I’m just gonna–”

She starts to turn, pulling the door behind her, but Trevor calls out her name to stop her.

“No, you should stay,” Trevor corrects. “After all, you’re here in my imagination. You might as well watch in real life.”

“Watch?” Honey snaps, incredulous. “Have you lost your mind?”

Trevor pushes the covers off his body, fisting his dick and stroking it back to full hardness after it had flagged a bit upon Honey’s original intrusion. It’s not difficult to get back to the point where Trevor was before she walked in, just the sight of her causing a chill to run up his spine. He bites his lip and groans when he swipes his thumb over his slit, spreading his precum over his tip.

Honey is still frozen, but her eyes are drawn to Trevor’s cock and her bottom lip has found its way between her teeth.

“Better yet,” Trevor continues, allowing his hand to stop moving and rest at his base. His cock jumps in his hand, seeking out more friction. “Why watch when you could help?”

Honey’s jaw drops again, blinking in surprise. “Help?” She repeats.

“You still want sex, don’t you?” Trevor asks. “You told me so.”

“I– well, yeah,” Honey says, stumbling over her words. She opens her mouth to say something else, but ends up shaking her head and shrugging.

“So come here,” Trevor beckons. “I don’t bite, unless you want me to. I was just thinking about how your fingers would feel on my cock. Will you show me?”

He starts to move his hand over his cock again, slowly. His skin slides against his palm, the glide that was harsh at first becoming more and more effortless as he continues to leak precum from his tip.

The shock of the moment has painted a pretty pink blush across Honey’s cheeks and her open mouth further exacerbates her dangerously attractive cheekbones, reminding Trevor of the way they looked when her lips were wrapped around his cock. Honey stays frozen, but Trevor can see that her nipples have grown hard and are pebbling against the fabric of her shirt. She’s not wearing a bra. Excellent.

“Honey,” Trevor says, waiting for her eyes to find his. “Please don’t make me ask again.”

Honey shakes her head. “No. Ask me again.” She takes a step forward, then another.

Trevor relents, watching her approach the end of the bed. “C’mere,” he pleads. “Come help me.”

Honey climbs onto the bed and crawls toward Trevor, running her hands up his thighs and sitting back on her heels between his legs. She runs her hands up over his hips, deliberately avoiding his groin in favor of feeling over his stomach and sides.

Trevor drops his cock, lacing his fingers behind his head. His member stands away from his hips, erect and twitching invitingly at Honey.

“Take your shirt off,” Trevor requests.

“No. We’re not elongating this any more than we need to. I’m going to make you come and then we’re going to go downstairs and I’m going to kick Luke’s ass at pool and you’ll try not to get hard again when you watch me bend over the table,” Honey replies, reaching for Trevor’s dick.

Trevor moans when Honey leans down and spits over the head of Trevor’s cock. He watches her saliva drip down his shaft and disappear between her fingers, acting as a sort of lube. She licks his tip like a kitten at a bowl of milk and moves her hand up and down, her grip on Trevor’s cock deliciously tight and practiced. Despite swearing off dating five years prior, it’s like Honey hasn’t lost any of her talent.

Trevor’s hips buck up into Honey’s hand when she circles her lips around his tip and suckles lightly. The tip of her tongue flicks over his slit, then lathers the skin around his cockhead. In this position, Trevor has a great view of the curve of Honey’s lower back, the waistband of her jean shorts pulling away from her skin and revealing the lavender underwear she’s hiding beneath her clothes. Trevor lets out a low whistle when his eyes trail further up her body, fixing on the tattoo marking the small of her back. He’s surprised he hasn’t noticed it before. It’s a dragonfly, surrounded by two branches of flowers. The tattoo is made up of thin but sweeping black lines and it’s so perfectly Honey that Trevor makes a mental note to ask her about it later.

“C’mon, Trev,” Honey goads. “People are going to start wondering what we’re up to. Hurry up.” Her hand speeds up, twisting over his shaft.

Trevor keens, pushing up into Honey’s grasp.

“It’s embarrassing how badly you want me,” Honey teases. “You’re so easy.”

“You’re so pretty,” Trevor replies, voice strangled and caught in his throat.

The pleased little smile that crosses Honey’s face makes his heart jump. She shakes her head at him fondly, then takes him back in her mouth. She hollows her cheeks, creating a vacuum around Trevor’s cockhead. She hums a little against him, the vibrations causing Trevor’s thighs to spasm. Her left hand soothes his quad, kneading the muscle with a scratch of her fingernails, and Trevor spills over her tongue.

Honey takes it all in her mouth like a champion, sitting back and swallowing, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. Trevor watches the line of her throat move with her swallow and he wishes that his refractory period was nonexistent so that he could fill her mouth again.

“Now that that’s over,” Honey says, shifting on her heels. She crawls up, straddling Trevor’s waist and hovering above him.

Trevor tilts his chin up and purses his lips.

Honey covers his mouth with her palm, effectively forcing him to kiss her palm, and glares at Trevor through narrowed eyes. She leans in close, making it almost impossible for Trevor to maintain eye contact.

“Do not fucking text me while I’m at work,” Honey says. “I mean it.”

She swings her legs to one side of his body, clambering off the bed and returning to the door. With one last look, Honey slips through the little crack of the door and shuts it behind her. Trevor hears her walking down the hall, then down the stairs.

He throws his head back against his pillow and covers his eyes with the bend of his elbow.

It takes him a few more minutes to catch his breath and move again. He washes his hands and goes to take a leak, replacing his boxers and shorts. He pulls a sweatshirt over his head, his favorite pink hoodie. He ties the strings into a cute little bow and leaves the hood over his hair, covering the mess beneath it that is, quite frankly, none of his business.

He just came in Honey’s mouth for a second time in a week– his hair is the least of his worries. It’s not even a worry at all. In fact, Trevor might never have another worry again.

When Trevor makes his way downstairs, he finds Honey in his line of vision immediately. She’s standing next to Luke as he lines up a shot, hoping to sink the maroon seven into the third pocket. Trevor only knows which pocket is which because Jack tried to show Quinn up last year with his technical billiards knowledge, considering he couldn’t beat Quinn until halfway through the summer.

Honey’s eyes are drawn to Trevor’s movement, away from Luke’s long fingers creating a good base for his shot. Almost unconsciously, her eyes are flooded with pride and the edge of a smile quirks her mouth before she looks away, focusing back on the pool game.

Luke takes his shot, but the ball bounces off the cushion next to the pocket. He groans, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe under his eyes. Honey pats his arm as he paces past her, evidently frustrated by his game.

Trevor looks to the table and finds that Honey only has a couple of striped targets left, while Luke has to sink four more shots if he wants to catch up to Honey. Having played against Honey before, Trevor is not confident in Luke’s ability.

When he looks to the leaderboard, Honey’s name is starred. She hasn’t played as many games as the other boys, but she’s undefeated. She’s beaten everyone except Bea, but it’s a no-brainer about who would win that fight.

Trevor spares one last glance at Honey before spilling across the loveseat. He lays for a minute, then turns over and gets comfortable. He pulls one hand up next to his head, using it as a pillow, and pulls his legs up toward his chest. He evaluates the room.

Quinn and Bea are sat in the plush recliner chair, sharing the small space. Bea has her legs thrown over Quinn’s lap, halfway seated on the arm of the chair. Quinn’s hand rests on Bea’s thigh, keeping her in place. She’s kissing over his neck and nuzzling into his side, letting her hands roam over his torso. Quinn catches Trevor watching them and fixes him with a hard stare, expression mostly unreadable. He’s mastered the art of the pokerface, but Trevor knows him well enough to know that his look is a warning.

Jack and Cole are standing up from the couch, Wii controllers in hand and pushing each other over to try and get Player 1. Both younger siblings, Trevor snorts at their stubborn desire to be in charge for once. They found the Wii yesterday while Trevor was out, tucked away in the closet where he received his first blowjob from Honey, on one of the highest shelves.

Cole immediately dug it out and went searching for games. So far, he’s only found Wii Sports, but that’s all they really need. Last night, Cole and Jack had boxed, and things had gotten so heated that Quinn had to ban boxing from the house. He even hid the nunchucks that were necessary to play the sport– so the rest of the boys were straight out of luck.

They’re pulling up a game of golf right now, which causes Bea to roll her eyes.

“You’re such boys,” she grumbles, lips pressed to Quinn’s cheek. “Golf is boring in real life. It’s even worse virtually. Can’t you play something good like bowling?”

Quinn chuckles a bit, pulling Bea closer. He wraps his arms around her waist and nips at her collarbone, causing the girl to shriek with a giggle. “I promise, if you come out on the course with me, I’ll teach you to like the game.”

Bea pushes him away, squirming on his lap until she finds a position where she’s comfortable. “You just want to get me in a little golf outfit so you can look at something pretty.”

“I will be looking at something pretty,” Quinn agrees. He leans in, pressing his forehead against hers and bumping their noses. He pecks her lips, brief and fleeting before he finishes his sentence. “The greens.”

Bea groans, tossing her head back. She goes to climb off of Quinn, but he holds her tightly on his lap and brings his mouth to her shoulder.

“Just imagine it,” he muses between kisses. “The smell of the freshly mown grass, the even blades, the sound of the club hitting the ball and the flag in the hole waving in the wind…”

“I can’t possibly think of a hole that you might be more interested in,” Bea deadpans, her bottom lip jutting out just a tad.

Quinn smiles, deciding to tug on Bea’s pouted lip with his teeth rather than deign her with an answer.

Trevor watches the exchange in disgust. The disgust transforms when he hears Honey whoop and gloat from the back of the room, evidently still undefeated. His gaze on Bea and Quinn softens a little bit, tinged with envy. Oh, how sweet it would be if Honey was sitting on his lap the way Bea is sitting on Quinn’s. He’s so jealous that he has to look away.

“Update that board, Lukey,” Honey teases, her voice cutting through the rest of the chatter like the beacon of a lighthouse.

Luke mimics her words, high-pitched and whiny the way only a younger sibling can sound, but reracks his cue and turns to the blackboard. He wipes Honey’s scores away with the dustrag that they repurposed into an eraser, then scrawls out a chicken-scratchy “6-0” next to her name. Next to his own, he erases the number of losses and replaces the number with one higher.

Honey beams at him, laying her stick along the table and walking around to gather all the balls from the pockets. She racks them up in a neat triangle, then leaves them immobile on the playing field. Honey joins the group, making herself comfortable on the corner cushion of the couch.

Luke plops down on the other end of the couch, closer to Trevor. Both pool players are studying the game on the screen with equal amounts of intensity, right thumbs pressed against their top lips and eyebrows drawn together in a tight pinch.

Trevor pulls his phone out of his pocket, chuckling to himself and types out a message.

“Look at Luke and Honey,” it reads.

Quinn pulls Bea’s phone out of his back pocket, glancing at the screen and making a face when he sees Trevor’s name flash across the screen. He eyes Trevor out of the side of his vision once Bea unlocks her phone and reads the message, tilting her screen so Quinn can see it.

They both look over at Luke and Honey, eyes flickering between the two, and Bea giggles. She presses her hand to her mouth, but the damage is done. Quinn turns back to look at her, eyes shining as he admires the girl sitting on top of him.

Trevor doesn’t know the details of his breakup, but he seems to be doing okay. Jack expected a whole lot worse, even briefed Trevor and Cole about the recent split during the drive down to Litchton, but none of them had expected to meet Bea and Honey.

It’s hard to be down in the dumps when there are people like them around.

Honey’s hand drops, dangling over the edge of the arm of the couch. “What?” She asks, apprehensive and skeptical. She glares at Bea, frown etched deeply on her face. There’s a little crease between her brows and Trevor itches to soothe it with a kiss. “What?” Honey repeats, looking around.

Luke is unperturbed, sitting in the same position and watching Jack putt the virtual golf ball. He laughs out a breath when Jack misses, grinning against his thumb.

Honey seems to recognize the pose immediately, making a face at Bea when the girl giggles again.

Quinn adjusts Bea on his lap, spreading his legs so there’s more room for her to sit in his arms. She’s practically cradled in his lap, legs no longer thrown over his lap but over the edge of the chair.

Honey sticks her tongue out at Bea, then returns to the screen.

The sun has started to set by the time Jack and Cole’s game ends and they’re almost in complete darkness once Bea has beaten Honey in bowling.

Trevor gets a kick out of seeing Honey lose– only because he’s never seen this side of her before. She’s competitive and she likes to win, so when she loses, she sulks the same way that Quinn does. Bea, to rub in her win, grabs Honey by her cheeks and plants a loud kiss on her nose. She overexaggerates a “mwah” and pinches Honey’s skin. Honey is blushing and pushing Bea away, wiping the kiss off of her nose.

“You are such a sore winner,” Honey chastises, crossing her arms over her chest.

“At least I’m not a loo-hoo-za-her,” Bea replies, wiggling her finger in Honey’s face like Ace Ventura. She spins and beams at Quinn, crawling back onto his lap and pushing her fingers through his hair.

Trevor isn’t sure that Quinn has told Bea that he’s getting a haircut before the Awards next week– or if he’s told her about the Awards at all. Trevor does know that Bea will be heartbroken when Quinn’s long hair is cropped back to a Catholic-school length and she can’t twirl the strands between her fingers as easily.

Honey blows a raspberry at Bea. She turns to walk toward the basement bathroom, evidently forgetting that it’s being occupied by Cole, and has to redirect upstairs.

Trevor misses her as soon as she disappears up the stairs and out of sight.

Luke sets out to try and get a perfect score in bowling, but gets distracted making a Mii of himself. It takes far too long and Luke defends himself when Jack chirps him for trying to make his Mii’s body less like a stick than he actually is, which is when he rushes through the rest of his design to get to the game. He scores two strikes in a row, then restarts the game upon only hitting eight pins in his third frame.

He’s less successful the second time. And the third. On his fourth try, he gets a third strike in a row, but then loses momentum.

And Jack is getting antsy, itching to prove that he can do better.

He usurps the Wii, and Trevor realizes that Cole returned from the bathroom a few minutes ago, but Honey has not.

Trevor frowns. She can’t have gotten lost in the house since she’s been here enough times to know the layout and she’s certainly capable of going to the bathroom on her own. She should be back by now. He should go check on her.

“Anybody want a drink?” Trevor asks, rolling off the loveseat and catching himself before he hits the floor, straightening up. He stands still for only a moment before taking off towards the stairs, not allowing anyone to affirm or deny his request. He’s not bringing them drinks. He doesn’t care about that– all he wants is to go find Honey and see what’s taking her so long.

He scampers up the stairs, a baseball cap hitting him squarely in the back as he goes, probably a result of Cole wanting a drink and Trevor running away before he could say so. Trevor laughs a little as he goes and as soon as he makes it up to the kitchen, it’s evident where Honey has found herself.

The balcony door is cracked open and her back is to Trevor. She’s leaning over the rail, looking up towards the night sky.

Trevor pauses, watching her.

Her hair falls freely over her shoulders, cascading down her back. It’s messy, windswept in a movie-star way. Her jean shorts are doing that gap thing again, showing off the dimples at the base of Honey’s spine and the tramp stamp– her mouth-watering tramp stamp– decorating her skin. Her hip is popped to one side and she looks good enough to eat.

She was right, too. Trevor has to make a very concentrated effort not to get hard while watching her bend over.

He approaches the door and slides it open. “Hey,” Trevor says softly. “What are you doing out here?”

Honey jumps at the sound of him, but she calms down and returns to her original position in an instant. “You’ve got a lovely view out here.”

Trevor sidles up next to her, bumping her hip with his own before settling in. He looks up to the sky.

Honey swallows, clearing her throat. “Do you get to see the stars like this in California?”

Trevor’s heart flutters with the question. She’s asking me about myself. She’s asking me about California. She cares. “I live outside of LA,” he explains. “So there’s a lot of light pollution. The stars are harder to come by.”

“Oh,” Honey says, sounding disappointed.

“Which is why this is so nice,” Trevor adds. “Up here, you can see everything. I’ve been learning the constellations because of that book. It’s really cool.”

“What got you interested in space?” Honey asks.

“I don’t know. It’s kind of like hockey for me. I always loved it.” Trevor shrugs. “When I went to Boston for college, I was an astronomy major, but I went to the NHL before I got to take any of the really cool classes.”

“So that’s why you’ve been looking for books.” Honey looks at Trevor for a moment, locking eyes with him for a split second, then she turns back to the sky.

It’s dark, but her face is lit up by the moon and the stars are reflecting in her eyes. They’re dimmer than normal due to the clouds rolling in from the west, dark and threatening. They seem far away. A strand of hair falls into her face, distracting Trevor, and his fingers twitch with the desire to sweep it back behind her ear, but Honey gets to it first.

Trevor looks up. “I think some of it has to do with all the Greek myths attached to the constellations, too,” he murmurs. “I think it’s really cool that the Ancient Greeks were able to see all of their stories in the stars. Plus, I’m Greek, so I guess I feel connected.”

Honey hums, considering his words.

They fall into an easy silence for a while, surveying the sky. Every so often, Trevor watches Honey from his peripheral. He catches her looking at him twice, and both times, they each blush and look away.

Trevor fixes on one of his favorite constellations– Cygnus, partially covered by a sprinkling of smaller rainclouds. It’s on his list of favorites because it took him so long to find and he’s proud that he was able to do so. Cygnus depicts a swan, who represents Zeus. He reaches his finger out and tries to point the constellation out to Honey.

“See there? That bright star separate from the others?” Trevor asks, pointing at the twinkle of light.

Honey furrows her brow and tilts her head, trying to line Trevor’s finger up with the star he’s pointing at. “No,” she replies.

“Here.” Trevor stands behind Honey, bringing his hand up and pointing so that she can look down his arm like a scope. Honey leans against his arm, one of her eyes squeezed shut. “There’s Deneb, which is the tail. It’s so bright because it has the power of more than sixty thousand suns. Isn’t that cool?” He drags his finger across the sky to another two major stars in the constellation, spreading his fingers in a peace sign to point them both out at once. “And there’s Xi and Albireo. Albireo is the swan’s beak and if I had a telescope, I’d be able to show you that it’s actually a star that glows blue and yellow.” Trevor unfolds his palm and sweeps it across the sky, drawing the path of Cygnus’s wings. “And those little stars are the swan’s wings. He’s flying across the sky for all eternity. I think that’s really cool.”

Trevor stands, proud of himself, admiring the constellation and his explanation. It takes him a moment to realize that Honey has turned in front of him.

When he does, he only has a second to take her in. That second of time suspends when his eyes meet hers. He can feel her breath puffing against his lips. Her back is pressed against the railing and Trevor is so close to her that he can feel her heat radiating outward and reaching for him. Honey’s eyes are big and wide, thoughtful.

Then she leans in and kisses Trevor.

Her lips are soft, just like they were when he kissed her in the closet. She tastes sweet, but not like any food Trevor has ever tasted before. He can’t pinpoint it– it’s just Honey.

Trevor barely registers Honey’s hands sliding into his hair, curling the strands around her fingers. He’s too busy reaching for her waist and pulling her close. Her skin is burning under his fingers and Trevor slides his right hand around to her back, resting his palm against the tattoo he discovered just earlier today.

When Honey’s hips press against his, her torso brushing against his, Trevor allows his left hand to rise. He brushes over her collarbone, then up to her jaw.

Honey’s fingers tug on his hair and Trevor groans, which is when she licks over his bottom lip and into his mouth.

And he thought he was giving his all to avoid a boner before. That effort is nothing compared to this one.

One of Honey’s hands leaves Trevor’s hair, finding his chest. She presses her palm against his shirt, between his pecs, and Trevor is sure that she can feel his heart pounding. All the while, she’s kissing him.

She’s kissing him.

Trevor crowds into her space more at that thought, taking charge of the kiss. His hand slips from her jaw, resting at the base of Honey’s neck.

And in a beautiful turn of events, she whimpers.

Trevor could bottle the sound up and put it in a safe for the rest of time. The breathy sigh only spurs him on and suddenly his teeth are clinking against hers with the ferocity of his movements. Like an electric shock, Honey breaks the kiss.

Trevor wishes he could take a picture of her.

Her cheeks are flushed and her gaze is a little foggy, focused on his lips until she blinks the confusion away. She sucks in a breath when she looks up at Trevor and her lips are plump, still parted like they’re seeking his own.

Trevor stands still, not even daring to let out a breath lest it scares her away. He watches her expression go from dreamy to concentrated, and he’s ready to step away, but her fingers clench in his hair and she pulls him back in.

The kiss is not sweet by any means. Honey pulls Trevor’s hand back to her throat, then her hands pull at the fabric of his shirt. She tugs him close, making an indignant keen when he’s slow to move. Trevor is stunned, but the noise snaps him out of it. Her fingers are impatient, tapping against his sides, and Trevor springs forward.

His hand caresses the column of her neck, feeling all of her little noises rise up and vibrate through her vocal chords. His other hand dips lower, under the gap her jean shorts created. His fingertips dip under the lavender band of her underwear, but they stop there, just teasing her. Honey rolls her hips against Trevor’s cock, totally not erect at all, obviously, and they break apart again.

Honey looks much more surprised this time, caught off guard by her own actions. She pushes Trevor away and he stumbles back, putting enough space between them that Honey can cover her lips with her hand. She feels over the pink skin, her hand shaking.

Trevor can still feel the ghost of the kiss and he expects Honey is feeling the same thing.

He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t interrupt whatever is going through her head. He can’t– he won’t give her any more reason to run away. He knows that’s what’s coming next.

Honey’s mouth is wide open. Her chest is heaving and she’s staring at Trevor.

Trevor starts to worry when her silence stretches a moment too long. “Do you want me to get Bea?” He asks.

Honey snaps her mouth shut, swallowing the lump in her throat and shaking her head vehemently. “I need to go home.” Like her hands, her voice is shaking.

“Okay,” Trevor says. He’s not sure what else he can say.

Honey steps toward the sliding door, then halts in her tracks. “Bea drove me,” she realizes aloud, eyes widening in panic.

“I’ll drive you,” Trevor says, the words falling from his lips like an avalanche. “I’ll say you got sick. I’ll drive you home right now and I promise I won’t try anything, I swear–”

Honey cuts him off with a nod, meeting Trevor’s eyes for just a second before she looks away and starting blinking more rapidly. She looks like she’s fighting something internally, lost but panicked but ashamed that she’s acting this way, and Trevor just grabs her hand.

He leads her inside, closing the sliding door behind them and beelining for the front door. He grabs his keys and presses them against Honey’s palm. “Go start the car for me, okay?” He says, talking quietly. He holds Honey’s shoulders, pressing his forehead to hers. She closes her eyes and leans against him. “I’m gonna go tell everyone that you threw up, or something, and I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” Honey agrees, whispering the word out. Trevor opens the front door for her, keeping a hand on her until she’s across the threshold. He leaves the door open and bounds downstairs.

“Hey,” Trevor calls, catching the attention of everyone in the basement. Jack gripes a bit, missing a strike because of Trevor’s call, but Trevor cuts him off. “Honey’s sick. I’m taking her home.”

Bea’s head pops up from where it was snuggled under Quinn’s chin. She bumps into his head by accident, petting over the point of contact as an apology while she turns to Trevor. “What? Is she okay?”

Trevor waves her off. “She’s fine. She doesn’t want to cause a big deal. She said it might be something she ate.”

Bea scowls. “I told her not to eat that turkey we found in the fridge at work,” she says. “I knew it had gone bad. Poor Honey.”

“She’ll be fine,” Trevor assures the girl, waving her off when she starts to stand up from Quinn’s chair. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

Bea looks hesitant, but Quinn’s hand on her hip seems to convince her to stay. “Okay, fine,” Bea says eventually. “But be careful, okay? It’s supposed to storm tonight. You’re not used to the mountains in the rain. The roads get bad.”

“If it gets bad, I’ll convince Honey to let me borrow her couch,” Trevor says. “I’ll text you when we get there.”

Quinn pulls Bea back down onto his lap, kissing her temple and rubbing her waist comfortingly. “They’ll be fine, baby. Honey’s a big girl.”

“I’m more worried about Trevor,” Bea grumbles in reply, barely audible. “The curves are slippery.”

“He’ll be fine,” Quinn repeats. He looks at Trevor, glaring at the boy, before opening his mouth to boss him around yet again. “Don’t be fucking stupid on the roads.”

Trevor flashes a thumbs-up in Quinn’s direction, then hurries back up the stairs. It’s starting to drizzle already– he can see the sparse raindrops falling towards the ground. They’re lit up by the lights of his car, already up and running.

Honey is curled up in the passenger seat, her fingers clutching the collar of her shirt and tucked under her chin. She’s looking out the window at the rain and doesn’t acknowledge Trevor when he joins her in the car.

He drives home carefully, having to turn the windshield wipers up as the rain grows harder. Honey directs him in hushed tones, her voice monotone. Trevor wants to reach over and take her hand. He wants to distract her from whatever is going through her mind. He doesn’t– it’s not his place.

“Pull in here,” Honey mutters, pointing toward an overgrown driveway marked by a painted-floral mailbox. It looks like a child had painted it and Trevor spots a flower made of little thumbprints on the front flap as he turns in. He creeps down the driveway, approaching the dark house.

He throws the car into park, then gets out of the car. He walks around in the rain, shrugging his sweatshirt off as he does so. He opens Honey’s door and unbuckles her seatbelt, putting the hood of his sweatshirt over her head to protect her hair from the drops.

Trevor leads her by the hand to her front door, which Honey opens easily. She left it unlocked. Trevor feels taken aback for a moment, but then he remembers that she’s been living in Litchton for five years and there’s barely any crime in town. She’s fine. She probably knows better than Trevor does, anyway.

He stands awkwardly in her doorway, watching Honey navigate the space with memorized ease. Her footsteps are light. She disappears up into the lofted area above her living room, which is just as eclectic and unique as she is. He takes in the knick-knacks and the lived-in space. The blanket on her couch is thrown over the back haphazardly. He can see into her backyard, the big windows on the back side of her house taking up almost the whole wall.

The house is dark, but it lights up with a flash of lightning. The house shakes with a crash of thunder. Trevor looks outside again and realizes he can barely see to his car, parked maybe twenty yards from Honey’s door.

He sends a quick text to Bea, letting her know that he just got to Honey’s safely and that he’s going to hang out for a little while before the storm dies down.

Trevor walks over to Honey’s kitchen, making sure he shut and locked the front door behind him. He finds a peach in a bowl on her counter and a knife in one of her drawers. Trevor washes the peach and cuts it into cubes, plating them. He searches for a glass and fills it with water, then takes both the plate and the cup in his hands.

Trevor climbs up to the loft, moving quietly and slowly so he doesn’t disturb Honey.

She’s curled up in her bed, just a little lump under the covers. It’s dark in her bedroom, but Trevor can see her eyes glinting. Her face lights up with another flash of lightning and he wants to break at the sight of the tears lining her face.

“Honey,” Trevor breathes out, placing the plate and cup on her bedside table. He rounds the bed, kneeling on the other side and reaching out to touch her face. He wipes away one of the tears streaking her cheeks.

Honey whines, squeezing her eyes shut and turning to hide her face in her pillow.

“I’m sorry I pushed you,” Trevor says. “I didn’t mean to.”

Honey groans, lifting her head to fix him with one big stink-eye. “You didn’t do anything,” she glowers. “I’m the one who kissed you.”

“Yeah, but I–”

“No, you didn’t.” Honey drags herself into a seated position, pulling her hair out of her face. She wipes her eyes and sniffs, looking miserable. “I’m just… working through everything.”

Trevor pauses, watching her. He feels absolutely helpless, unable to do or say anything that could make her feel better. “I brought you food and water,” Trevor says, feeling lame. “You should make sure you’re staying hydrated.”

Honey’s in the middle of wiping her eyes again as he says it, and Trevor panics when her shoulders start to shake again and a fresh batch of tears leak from her eyes. He moves back from the bed, eyes wide. Maybe it would’ve been better if he hadn’t said anything at all. Now Honey’s crying because of him.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shut up,” Honey tells him, her voice thick with tears, hiccuping. “You are so fucking insufferable,” she continues, and Trevor realizes that her shoulders are shaking with laughter even as she cries.

His mouth forms an ‘o’ and Trevor looks around, afraid to look at Honey for too long lest she start bawling again.

“Just–” Honey cuts herself off. “Can you–”

“Anything,” Trevor agrees immediately, interrupting her.

Honey presses her lips together, letting the words form in her mouth. She seems to consider not saying them at all, but she eventually continues. She’s sheepish when she looks at Trevor, small and caved in on herself. “Can you lay with me?” The words are resigned when they leave her mouth, her eyes miserable.

Trevor scrambles onto the bed and has her in his arms before she can finish the sentence, all of the breath knocked out of his lungs with relief. He can do that easily– he wants to do that for Honey. He holds her against his chest, tucking her head into the curve of his neck. She’s sniffling again against his skin, marking his neck with wet tears. Thunder crashes outside again, and Trevor just holds her as tightly as he can.

She shakes for a little while, crying silently. Trevor coos at her and wipes her tears away, kissing her temple and rubbing her back in what he hopes are soothing motions. Eventually, her breath evens and her tears dry up, but she stays curled up in Trevor’s arms.

When she calms down, Trevor starts to feel awkward again. She’s just laying there in his arms and he’s sitting on her bed, not really sure what he’s supposed to do.

“You should sleep,” Trevor decides. He’s speaking softly, prompting Honey like the gentle nudge of a finger pointing her in the right direction. “The storm has died down, so I’ll head back–”

Honey frowns against his neck, pushing away from his chest to look up at him. “Stay with me,” she pouts.

Trevor is helpless to say no.

They maneuver themselves down to lay on the bed, and Honey presses against Trevor. She bundles a hand in his t-shirt, throwing the other over his waist. She hides her face in his chest and Trevor hopes that she can’t hear his heart racing, punching against his ribs in harsh beats, even though he knows that she can hear that and more, like the rumbling of his stomach.

She doesn’t seem to mind, though. She falls asleep, one last tear falling across her cheek as her face finally relaxes.

Trevor wipes it away and pulls her close, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. He doesn’t know what happened to Honey in Charlotte, what made her swear off dating, but he’s determined to find out. He’s going to do everything he can to reassure her and keep her safe. He never wants to see her like this again.

Trevor’s last thought before he falls into his own restless sleep is, God, I hope I don’t ruin this by waking up hard in the morning.

28:90 – HONEY

It was inevitable. Honey should’ve expected it. Trevor’s dick is hard, nestled against her ass, and he’s holding her there. He’s still asleep, breathing evenly on Honey’s neck with his nose nuzzled behind her ear.

He snores. It woke her up.

An hour ago.

She doesn’t have it in her to wake him up. Trevor was so sweet last night, trying so hard to do everything right. He cut her peaches up into cubes and poured her a glass of ice water while she expected him to walk right out the door and leave her alone. He held her while she cried and his stupid face, his dumbfounded and panicked expression, made her laugh through the tears.

He handled it well and Honey slept soundly in his arms. She was okay. She’s calmer now, more steady on her feet than she’s ever been after Bea talks her down from a freakout.

Trevor’s arms are strong around her, affording her very little wiggle room. About twenty minutes ago, Trevor’s hand had shifted to graze her boob, tickling Honey with his movements. Unconsciously, when she leaned back against him, his hand found the curve of her breast and cupped the weight in his palm.

Honey is surprised Trevor was able to sleep through her giggles.

His hand is still holding her chest, occasionally squeezing the flesh through her shirt. It’s a comfortable weight now and Honey finds it too endearing to push him away. She also understands the comfort that comes with holding a boob– whenever she finds herself watching TV and lazing around on her sofa, she catches herself with one of her hands on the slope of her chest. It never fails to make her laugh at herself. She really is no better than a man.

Trevor’s finally stirring, though, so Honey has to push his hand away. His wrist ends up curving over her hip, leaving his hand to dangle near the hem of her shorts. His other hand is nice and snug against the curve of her waist, trapped between her body and the bed. Trevor sighs, his voice deep and thick with sleep, snuggling against Honey with a smack of his lips and a yawn before he realizes that he’s not alone, nor is he in his bed at the rental house.

He twitches, pulling himself away from the drowsiness that was threatening to overtake him again. He scrambles back, putting distance between himself and Honey. When Honey turns to face him, mourning the loss of the warm body against her back, Trevor’s eyes are wide and his lips are pulled back in a grimace. He’s watching Honey like he’s afraid of her next move.

She lays facing him and puts her arm under her head, using the curve of her elbow as an extra cushion. She tries to keep her expression neutral. She licks her lips, then reaches her other hand over and tugs Trevor’s shirt.

He’s stupid, so he doesn’t get it. Trevor stays frozen, way too much distance between his body and Honey’s for what she wants to say.

Persistently, Honey tugs again at the hem of his shirt. When he still doesn’t move, she rolls her eyes and sits up, scooting over. If Trevor moves any farther back, he’ll fall off the bed. Luckily, he seems to realize that and he stares up at Honey, lips parted. If she weren’t so sure he was freaking out about overstepping and staying in her bed after she calmed down, Honey would think that the look in his eyes might be something akin to awe.

With a huff, Honey lays back down and intertwines her legs with Trevor’s, keeping a hand on his waist. She drops his shirt, but rests her palm on the waistband of his shorts, thumbing over the bare skin above the fabric.

Trevor shivers and his eyelids flutter a bit.

Honey wants to laugh. She does, but now is not the time. He’s just so easy.

“About six months before I moved to Litchton, my high school boyfriend and I broke up,” Honey says quietly. “We had been dating for almost two years and things were great until they weren’t.”

Trevor closes his mouth, watching Honey. His hand, hesitating in the air, comes to rest on her cheek. He pushes her hair over her shoulder and catches one of her waves between his fingers, feeling it out.

“He wanted to go to college. I didn’t. He wanted to make the most of the end of senior year and I wasn’t as into the party scene as he was. I had Bea, who gets invited everywhere by her adoring gaggle of fans, as you well know,” Honey continues, crinkling her nose and nudging it against Trevor’s in a teasing manner. “But there was still that distance growing between me and Thomas.”

“What happened?” Trevor asks, brows furrowed in concern.

“He started doing drugs,” Honey explains with a shrug. “Speed, mostly, but a lot of acid in between trips. He liked the high of those things more than he liked me.” She looks down. “The first time he mentioned reaching into a pill bowl, I broke up with him.”

Trevor’s hand soothes Honey, running over her cheek. His thumb barely grazes her skin, just there enough that Honey can feel her peach fuzz moving with his fingerprint. He’s paying attention to her, staring at her like she’s the only person who has ever walked the face of the Earth. Honey wants to blush, wants to cover her face with an embarrassed hand, all too aware of the way Trevor is taking her in and admiring her. It’s scary, the way he’s looking at her. It’s the same way Thomas looked at her before everything turned to shit.

Honey looks away. She stares at the logo branded on Trevor’s t-shirt, tracing the line of the design with her fingernail. He draws a breath in when she scrapes over his nipple, making her smile.

“He didn’t take it well,” Honey continues. “Why would he, you know? He couldn’t handle losing all of this.” She gestures down at her body, watching Trevor’s eyes follow her hands. His eyes, unlike Thomas’s, make their way back up to her face. She starts to feel hot tears prickle in the corner of her eyes, but Honey shakes them away. “And I wouldn’t tolerate his behavior. He just wanted someone who would sit idly by as he ruined his life.”

Trevor hums, pulling her closer. He presses a kiss to her forehead, then closes his eyes as he leans against her. Honey brings her hand up between them and runs her finger down the curve of his nose.

“He thought that revenge was the best course of action,” Honey says delicately, smiling ruefully at the memory. It still affects her, even now, although Thomas hasn’t occupied her mind in a substantial way in years. She feels a little silly, gearing up to say what comes next, even though she knows it’s not her fault. She’s not to blame. It’s a shame it still affects her so much, five years later.

“He…” Honey clenches her teeth, cringing in a long pause. “Took things that I shared with him in confidence,” she decides on, her voice shaking not with sadness, but with anger. “And he sent them out to my entire class. They sent them out to other people in the city and they sent them to… explicit websites, not caring that I was underage at the time.”

Trevor lets out a breath, his grip tightening around Honey’s body. He buries his face in her hair, squeezing her.

“So, I dropped it all. I dropped him, I dropped my other friends, I dropped the whole city of Charlotte and I left. My parents were great– they paid for a lawsuit and got all the pictures taken down from those websites. They finally accepted that I wanted to move here full time and my dad offered the house. I had to pay, yeah, but I had somewhere to live. Eventually, I stopped talking to them, but I wasn’t alone–”

“You had Bea,” Trevor completes the sentence for her, sounding equally as sad as Honey. Trevor tilts Honey’s chin up, capturing her lips in a sweet, chaste kiss.

Honey needed that.

When he pulls away, Trevor takes a breath. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“It’s okay,” Honey replies. “I’ve had five years to process it. Sometimes it’s hard for me, and I'll freak out, but I want to keep doing the… things… that we’ve been doing. I just can't have everyone knowing– it makes me feel like there's pressure to be okay and have everything seem 'perfect' all the time.”

“You do?” Trevor asks, biting his bottom lip. His eyes rake over Honey’s features, then he brings his lips down in front of hers. Honey can feel the little puffs of breath leaving his mouth, his bottom lip sliding against hers in something less than a kiss when he lifts his chin. "You know I'll do whatever you want, Honey. Secret or not, we should absolutely keep doing the things we've been doing."

“Don’t get too excited,” Honey says, pushing against Trevor’s chest. She smiles, lips pulled tight over her teeth. “I let you sleep way too long. I have to go to church with Ada in thirty minutes and I still have to shower.”

Honey tears herself away from Trevor, dragging herself out of bed.

Trevor leans up on the back of his elbows, his hair still messy with sleep. “Do you want me to join you?”

Honey scoffs out a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Absolutely not. I’ll take you home before the service. You can shower there.”

“Mmm,” Trevor hums. “Bea can bring me some church clothes.”

Honey lets out a little laugh, exasperated by his determination to see her naked. “You’re coming to church with me?” She asks, stepping through her conjoined bathroom door and reaching for the spout of her shower. She turns the knob, watching the water from the showerhead spurt to life and start to warm up. “I should warn you, I’m not a big believer. I kind of lost all that after… well. Now, you know.”

“I’m not a huge believer either,” Trevor says. “I only join Bea at church when I think I’ll see you. All one time so far.”

“Oh, aren’t you sweet?” Honey laughs, sarcasm twisting her tone. She realizes that it was the wrong response when Trevor lets out a cackle, still bundled up under her bedsheets.

“You would know,” he teases. “After all, you’re the one who’s tasted me… twice.”

Honey stares at herself in her bathroom mirror, unimpressed. “What the fuck are we doing?” she mouths at her reflection, throwing her hands up. She smooths her hair back, pulling it into a ponytail before letting it loose and shaking her hair. A smile takes over her face until she ducks her head, burying her head in her hands.

“I’m not going to give you the privilege of a response,” Honey calls, turning and reaching her hand under the water to check the temperature. Steam is starting to rise toward the ceiling, and the water is warming up by the second, so she sheds her shirt and shorts, leaving her in just her underwear.

Not taking the chance, or the distraction, Honey closes her bathroom door and locks it.

Trevor knocks soon after the lock clicks, calling for Honey to let him in. Honey just laughs, loud enough that he can hear it, and hops in the shower.

She takes all of fifteen minutes to shower and get ready, leaving them with plenty of time to make it to the church along the main road. Trevor has to wear the same clothes as the night before, while Honey has changed into a flowery skirt and a white bodysuit. She looks much more put together than Trevor, who insists on hiding out in the car once they park in the church parking lot until Bea smuggles some clothes through his driver’s side window. Trevor changes in the backseat, hoping that the tinted windows are enough to cover him up (they’re not– Cole looked through the back window and affirmed that he could see Trevor’s dick… “and balls”).

Instead of hanging around with the group, Honey walks into the church and finds Ada. She stands in the pew next to her elderly boss, holding Ada’s hand in her right and the hymnal in the other.

Just before the usher approaches the podium to greet the congregation, Ada whispers to Honey: “Did you help that young man feel better after your poor behavior on Thursday?”

Honey wishes she could throw her head back and laugh aloud. She smirks, throwing a look over her shoulder and catching Trevor fiddle with his tie. Bea notices him loosening it and reaches over to tighten the knot, causing Trevor to faux-gag in the girl’s face. Honey looks at his neat white button-up and his dark jeans, snug against his hips with a brown belt, and she bites her bottom lip. Trevor catches her eyes and grins.

Honey looks back at Ada. “Yes ma’am,” she says, a little smug. “I would say that he definitely feels better now.”

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