⋆ria

Everyone knows you as the nerd, the weird girl in class who only cares about her grades. You’re socially awkward, too, which doesn’t help.

“Does she really just do nothing fun?” One of Quinn’s friends mumbles as you walk by with your nose in a textbook. 

“She’s so weird,” another one says.

Quinn feels sick in his stomach as his friends make fun of you for doing nothing wrong. “It’s such a shame, since she’s so pretty,” Quinn says, trying to change the subject to something nicer without speaking up against his friends.

“If you think she’s so pretty, why don’t you ask her out?” One of his friends scoffs.

“What?” Quinn says, eyes widening.

“Yeah,” another says. “I dare you to get with her.”

The sick feeling in his stomach only grows. “Guys, that’s so mean,” he says. Unlike his friends, Quinn was raised right and has no interest in playing with a girl’s heart like that.

“What, are you scared?” One says while shoving Quinn’s shoulder.

“Live a little, Quinn,” says another.

“Fine,” Quinn says, even though it makes him feel sick. “I’ll do it.”

All of Quinn’s friends start cheering as they collectively push him towards where you’re sitting on a bench. Quinn slaps them away and makes his way to you on his own.

He stands frozen in front of you. For once, what he is feeling is fear. If this goes terribly wrong, he will never forgive himself. He doesn’t want to play with you, but he doesn’t want to disappoint his friends.

As he stands there, lost in thought, you look up, confused.

“Hello?” You say, sounding half annoyed that he is just staring at you.

Quinn snaps out of his thoughts, looking at you. “I- uh-” he tries and fails to start speaking out of nervousness. Not nervousness of rejection, but nervousness that comes from doing the wrong thing.

You raise an eyebrow, setting your book in your lap.

“I was wondering,” Quinn starts, taking a deep breath. “Would you maybe wanna go out sometime?”

Your eyes widen in shock, and you close your book and throw it aside. “Out out? Like on a date?” You ask in disbelief.

Quinn almost chooses to back out, but seeing your face completely melts him. You look so excited, like you’re trying to contain it but can’t. He refuses to take that smile off your face.

“Yeah, I think you’re really cute,” he says softly.

The smile on your face grows huge, and you sit there awkwardly, trying not to seem weird. Quinn can’t help but find it adorable.

Quinn looks to the side of you, seeing your phone. “Here,” he says. “I can give you my number,” he adds.

You nod quickly, scrambling to grab and hand him your phone. As he types his number in, you stand, watching with sparkling eyes and a big grin.

Quinn smiles warmly as he hands your phone back to you. “See you…” He takes a moment to think. “Friday?” He asks.

You nod relentlessly again. “Friday sounds great.

—

Friday afternoon, you stand in front of your mirror in the nicest, short black dress you own, which you have never had the proper occasion for. For once, you applied more makeup than just mascara, and you even put on all your pretty jewelry and matching heels.

You smile at yourself, finally feeling beautiful and not being focused on a thousand other things. Suddenly, you hear a knock at your door.

Quinn is here.

You throw your purse over your shoulder and jog to the door. You smooth your dress one more time and take a deep breath before you pull the door open.

Standing in front of you is Quinn in a black button-up shirt and a pair of denim jeans. He’s holding flowers, and he has a soft smile on his face.

Seeing you, Quinn’s jaw drops. He had always known you were pretty, but seeing you so different does something to his brain, and he still can’t quite tell what it is. As he snaps out of his trance, he hands you the flowers.

“These are for you,” he says.

Your smile grows as you take them from him, lifting them up to your nose to smell. You step back, offering to let him come inside. He enters, closing the door behind him.

“I’m going to put these in water, make yourself at home for the time being,” you tell him. Then, you disappear into the other room.

Quinn looks around, taking in his surroundings. He sees that there’s one coat hung up on the coat rack, one pair of shoes at the door, and one backpack against the wall.

Did you really have no roommate?

He frowned as he continued to notice more proof. His heart sank slightly at the thought. No wonder you had been so excited when he asked you out; you probably feel lonely.

Before he can think about it too much more, you emerge from the doorway with the same huge smile on your face, and for some reason, it’s contagious.

“Ready?” You ask, readjusting your purse.

He nods, opening the door for you like a gentleman.

—

At the restaurant, you both sit tucked in a corner booth. Just based on your reactions, it is no secret that this is a new experience. The way you look around with a sparkle in your eye doesn’t go unnoticed to Quinn.

The date starts off calm.

“So, what do you do in your free time?” Quinn asks.

You smile. “I like to study most of the time, but sometimes I read,” you reply.

Quinn smiles. “I like reading too,” he adds. “But I don’t have much time because of hockey and everything.

You smile. “I went to one of your games recently,” you say. “You have quite the talent.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You went to one of my games?”

You nod. “I was looking for ways to get out in the community more,” you say. “I stay in my dorm a lot.”

That pretty much proves Quinn’s assumptions to be true. He nods in understanding.

“I guess since we’re here, I might as well admit that I’ve actually liked you for quite some time,” you tell him, smiling sheepishly as your eyes shift down to your hands.

Quinn’s eyes widen. “You have?” He asks.

You nod, making eye contact again. “I thought I would never have a chance,” you say.

He sits there, frozen.

“So I hope you know that this is one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and I’m really glad I caught your eye,” you add. “I don’t get noticed by guys as amazing as you.”

As soon as you admit to your feelings, Quinn feels an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He feels like the most evil guy in the world for following through with this stupid dare. He feels like he should tell you the truth, but after hearing you pour your heart out, he can’t do it.

It’s too late to back out.

So for the whole date, the sick feeling in his stomach only grows.

—

Later that night, after he has dropped you off, he stares at his ceiling, regretting everything. You’re such a nice, genuine person, and he is playing you.

He will truly never forgive himself after the day he has to break your heart.

—

After three weeks of talking and going on dates, you finally ask Quinn the question he’s been dreading.

“Quinn?” You ask, looking up at him with big eyes as you sit curled against his side, movie playing softly in the background.

“Hm?” He looks down at you.

“What are we?” You ask him.

Quinn freezes, unable to find an answer. “I mean…”

“It’s just,” you start. “We have been hanging out for like a month, and what we have isn’t casual,” you say.

He nods, not sure what else to do.

“Are you ready to make it official?” You ask nervously.

He wants to tell you no. He wants to admit everything and apologize for doing something so horrible. But seeing the look in your eyes? The nervous, sparkly gaze, he can’t say no to you.

He feels terrible.

He forces a smile, turning his head towards you more. “I would love to make it official,” he says to you.

The excitement on your face is immediate. You practically jump up, only to latch back onto him in a light hug.

“I know it’s so early to say this, but I love you, Quinn,” you admit. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

Quinn wraps his arms around you, chin on the top of your head. He stares at the wall with guilt as he runs his hand over your back. “I love you too,” he says, unable to leave your words one-sided, even if the sincerity is.

You pull back again, and he immediately forces a smile back onto his face. Your gaze goes from his eyes to his lips, and back to his eyes again.

He notices, and does it back without even realizing. The next thing he knows, you’re leaning in. He can’t think of any way to get out of it, so his lips connect with yours in a kiss.

Quinn feels his cheeks flush at the action.

When you pull apart, you curl back against his chest and into his arms.

He squeezes you, attempting to distract himself and make himself feel better about what he’s doing.

—

You and Quinn have been together for eight whole months when he starts to catch feelings.

He had a whole plan to break up with you by telling you that he plans on having a career in hockey, and he wants to focus on it more, and that he can’t give you the attention you deserve.

It was all planned out.

But when he’s finally with you and ready to do it, he looks into your eyes and realizes that he would actually miss you if he leaves you. 

He’s been with you so long that you’ve just become a big part of his life, even if he doesn’t realize he likes you yet.

So when you smile at him, he opens his arms like usual. When you enter his embrace, he holds you tighter than usual, burying his face in your hair.

The only difference, though? This time, he feels his cheeks heat up, and for once, he doesn’t feel bad. He doesn’t feel the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. 

He enjoys holding you.

And even though he’s very aware of the difference, he doesn’t yet realize that he has fallen in love with you.

—

After ten months of dating, Quinn realizes that he’s fallen head over heels for you.

Seeing you in the stands at one of his hockey games, cheering loud and proud anytime he does anything, already makes his heart start beating. But what really makes him realize is what happens after the game.

“Quinn!” You exclaim as you run towards him, barreling right into his arms. “You played so good!”

Quinn smiles, but not on purpose this time. He just can’t help it. When he hugs you back, he presses a kiss to your forehead without a thought.

“Thank you, baby,” he says, the pet name slipping out.

You feel a giddy feeling take over you as he uses that term of affection for the first time. “Baby?” You ask, teasingly.

He immediately turns red with embarrassment, stuttering over his words. “I- I mean, if that's okay-”

As he stumbles over his sentences, you grab the back of his head and yank him into a kiss.

In that moment, Quinn realizes just how much he actually loves you. He doesn’t hold back anymore. He pulls you in by the waist, melting into the kiss and reciprocating everything.

Sure, he’s done similar things with you before, but this time it’s deeper and more intimate. The longer it goes, the more he melts. Even you can tell the difference, but you don’t comment on it due to being too lost in the moment.

When the two of you finally pull apart, you rest your foreheads together, panting breathlessly with soft smiles on your faces.

Quinn feels so overcome with love at the moment that he gets all giddy. He wasted so much time intentionally pushing away his feelings and focusing on the “dare” that he didn’t even stop to think that he might see things differently now. He feels stupid for taking so long to realize, but now that he knows, he plans on trying to be the best boyfriend he can.

The two of you go back to his room that night, and you sleep over for the first time. He gives you one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweatpants for you to sleep in, and you get cozy very quickly.

You look at him with a big smile. “Your clothes are so comfy,” you say, reaching towards him.

Quinn joins you in bed, smiling down at you with nothing but affection. “You can keep those. I have so many,” he tells you as he slides in next to you.

Your whole face lights up with excitement, and you curl up against his side. “Thank you, Quinney,” you say.

He feels his heart flutter at the nickname. You’ve called him that countless times before, but now that he fully understands his feelings, it really hits different.

Suddenly, you yawn, nuzzling your head closer to his chest.

Quinn immediately starts stroking your hair gently, lulling you into sleep.

“Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight, Quinney.”

As your breathing evens out, Quinn feels more warmth spread through his chest. He stares at your soft features, more awestruck than he’s ever been. He wishes deeply that he had opened his eyes to this earlier on and seen that he had something, or someone, so amazing right in front of his eyes.

Slowly, the rise and fall of your chest and the soft sound of your breathing ease him into sleep, holding you close against him.

—

After a year and a half of dating, it’s safe to say that Quinn is utterly obsessed with you. He had distanced himself from the friends who dared him to date you just months after he fell in love.

In fact, Quinn has practically forgotten that he’s with you because of a dare. In his head, he asked you out because he wanted to.

Things are going great between you. You hang out almost every day, you love each other dearly, and you both can’t imagine a life without each other.

But unfortunately, things have to go wrong.

One day, you’re walking around campus with your hand in Quinn’s, chatting calmly as you make your way down the sidewalks.

“You’re still with her?” You hear a voice call from behind you.

You both turn around to see one of Quinn’s friends. You instinctively grab Quinn’s arm tighter, and he takes a step in front of you.

“What do you want?” Quinn asks, annoyed. He can tell that his “friend” is trying to cause trouble.

“The dare has been long over, buddy,” the guy says with a smirk. “You can leave her now.

Quinn glares at his friend, attempting to shut him up without saying anything.

“What dare?” You ask quietly.

“Nothing, baby,” Quinn says too fast. He feels fear spread through his body.

“Quinn didn’t tell you?” The guy scoffs. “Back when Quinn was still exciting, we dared him to get with you.”

Quinn’s jaw clenches angrily until he feels you pull away.

“You got with me because of a dare?” You ask, emotion taking over your voice.

“Yeah,” says the guy. “It was always for a dare…

He never loved you.”

Tears spill from your eyes before you can stop them. A sudden surge of anger takes over you, and you march the two steps right back in front of him.

“Fuck you,” you say through gritted teeth.

Then, your hand moves on its own. You don’t even realize what's happening until you feel the sting on your hand, hear the sound of a slap, and see the shape of your hand printed in red across Quinn’s face.

You hear a group of boys laughing and see the guy run back over to his friends, but you focus back on Quinn.

He reaches up, gently rubbing his cheek as he stares at you with hurt eyes.

Your anger turns into pure hurt, and a sob escapes your mouth.

“Was it all a lie?” You ask, shaking your head.

“Honey, no,” he attempts, but you storm off before he can even try to explain.

You stomp down the sidewalk, crying loudly, despite your efforts to keep quiet. You don’t know exactly where you’re going, but your feet keep moving anyway.

Quinn chases after you as his eyes start to burn. “Y/n,” he calls over and over.

But you just keep walking.

He suddenly jogs up behind you and grabs your shoulder. “Y/n, please,” he pleads.

You spin around in one, quick, angry motion. “Get away from me!” You yell, voice cracking as you do. You continue walking away.

“Will you please just let me explain!” Quinn begs, still chasing after you, overcome with the fear of losing you.

You don’t respond. You just walk faster.

Still, Quinn does not leave you alone.

“Y/n, please! I promise you it wasn’t all a lie!” He shouts.

You spin around once more, causing Quinn to stop in his tracks. You’re practically seething with anger as you look up at him.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you grunt. “Fuck you and your stupid games.”

You begin walking away once again. Then, you hear the infuriating sound of Quinn’s footsteps continuing behind you. This time, you don’t turn around again.

“Fuck off!” You shout, walking even faster.

Finally, Quinn lets you go, figuring if he wants to even have a shot at saving this, he needs to give you some time alone. He stands there frozen, watching you walk away. Tears burn his eyes, and he feels his heart split in two.

When you leave his sight completely, he lets his tears fall as he begins the walk back to his room.

—

That night, you both grieve alone. You cry in bed all night, cursing Quinn under your breath between sobs.

Quinn, on the other hand, stares at the ceiling with tears silently streaming down his face. He knew he should have told you, but how do you even bring something like that up?

He knows he needs to fix this, and he is going to fight until he can’t anymore because if he loses you, he doesn’t know what he will do.

He has no idea how he could possibly win your trust back or even let him talk to you, but he brainstorms ideas anyway.

—

He gives you three whole days to calm down. Three torturous days. Being without you after constantly being with you is the emptiest Quinn has ever felt. He doesn’t doubt the fact that it feels even worse for you, but he can’t bear to think of it.

Quinn knows you’re in your room when he knocks at your door. He doesn’t expect you to open, but you do. When he looks into your eyes, he half thinks you’re gonna let him in. But unfortunately, you had not expected him, so you slam the door in his face and lock it after realizing who it is.

He quickly tries to push the door open, but fails in his attempts. “Baby, please,” he shouts through the door.

No response.

Quinn sighs, leaning his forehead against the door. “Fine,” he starts gently, talking loud enough for you to hear through the door. “I know you don’t want to talk or see me, but please just try to listen,” he says, emotion pulling at his voice.

Still no response, but Quinn hears the shuffle of you sliding to sit on the ground by the door. He knows he wasn’t meant to hear it, but it makes him smile just a little.

He slides down to sit with his back to the door, too. “Since the truth is already out, yes, I asked you out because my friends dared me to,” he says.

Tears pull at your eyes even though you already know the truth.

“But I don’t regret it one bit,” he adds.

Your breath hitches, and tears flood your eyes, because how could he be so cruel?

“I don’t regret it because then I never would have realized that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says.

Your heart starts beating fast even though you’re still filled with doubt.

“Sure, it started as a stupid dare, and I was too stupid to back out of it. But then I got to know you, and I learned how amazing you are,” he continues.

Tears spill from your eyes again.

“And it took me way too long to realize that I do love you, but when I finally did, I guess the whole ‘dare’ part of it all slipped to the back of my mind.” He sighs, “And I am so, so sorry, y/n. I know I should have told you, and I feel like shit for it.”

You shift, pressing your forehead to the door.

“And I will spend forever apologizing, even if you don’t forgive me, because now I don’t know how to live without you. I love you.”

You let out a shaky breath, and he hears it.

“I love you,” he repeats. “More than anything.”

Suddenly, the door opens behind him,m and he jumps up immediately. When he turns, he’s met with your rosy cheeks and teary eyes. He looks at you nervously, not saying a word.

“You mean that?” You ask hopefully.

He nods, gently lifting a hand to wipe a tear from your cheek. To his surprise, you don’t stop him.

“How can I believe you?” You ask.

He exhales, having expected this. “If I didn’t mean it, I would have ended things a long time ago.”

You look up at him, still not quite convinced.

“And why would I be trying so hard to get you back if I didn’t love you?” He adds, trying his hardest to convince you that he is truthful.

That does it. Your sobs fall from your mouth uncontrollably as you walk right into his arms, hugging him tightly. He holds you back even tighter, burying his face in your neck.

“I love you so much, baby, you don’t even understand,” he mumbles against your skin.

“I love you too, Quinn,” you reply, reaching a hand to play with his hair.

The two of you stand like that for what feels like hours before you drag him through the door and onto your couch. Quinn lies down on the corner of the couch, and you curl up on top of him. 

The fact that you forgave Quinn is practically a miracle to him. If you hadn’t forgiven him, he wouldn’t have known what he would have done.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers to you.

You prop yourself up to look him in his eyes. “You’re an idiot,” you smile.

Quinn smiles too, pinching your cheek. “I know,” he replies.

The two of you start laughing together, finding humor in the situation now that the air is cleared.

“I really do love you,” Quinn says, leaning his forehead against yours.

You smile. “I love you too, Quinney.”

He leans closer, giving you every chance to pull away, and you don’t. So his lips connect with yours in a warm kiss, one that feels more real than ever.

When you finally pull apart, you both giggle again, tucking close together again.

“I promise I won’t hide things from you anymore,” he whispers.

You nuzzle closer against his chest. “I believe you.”

Quinn presses two kisses to the top of your head, wrapping his arms tighter around you and pulling you closer. As the tension melts, he relaxes and smiles against your hair.

And as he holds you, he thinks back on how this all started. If he had backed out of the dare because it was “mean,” he would never be lying here with the love of his life.

He doesn’t regret a thing. 

a/n: loved writing this! I'm surprised i buckled down enough to write something so long. i hope you enjoy this <3

taglist: @idkwhatthisis2009 , @rusty436 , @dancerbailey3 , @thejordiverse

jack hughes could not help but feel accomplished. 

this was it. 

this was exactly what he had worked for his entire life. 

years of blood, sweat, and tears. early mornings at the rink while the rest of the world was still asleep. restless nights spent skating in cities that blurred together. the countless ups and downs. expectations. the pressure that never really let up. 

it all led him here. 

the job wasn’t done - not even close but for once, jack let himself sit in the glow of a win that followed one of the most mediocre road trips of the season. 

he deserved that much. 

right? 

it was one of those wins that left his skin buzzing long after he hopped off the ice, the kind that lodged itself deep within his ribs and stayed there; warm, fuzzy, and electric. so. maybe that’s why he ended up at a bar with the rest of the team, riding the high of scoring the OT winner. the place was packed with the exact kind of post-game energy they craved - loud and reckless. 

music pounded through the walls, the bass vibrating through the floor beneath his white sneakers. glasses clinked and people shouted over one another. laughter spilled from every corner of the room. the whole place reeked of beer, expensive cologne, and fried bar food. 

luke was off in some corner with his head tipped back like he didn’t have a care in the world because if jack had to guess, he was trying to charm his way into the blonde sitting to his left. a couple of rookies had drifted towards the bar a while ago, leaning against the counter with a confidence that could overturn the world as they pretended to - and failed miserably at - not staring at the cute bartender. the rest of the team was scattered, half-hidden in sticky booths or crowded around tall tables. every few minutes, jack would hear his name or have a drunk grin thrown his way. a slap on the shoulder. another drink offered his way. 

and still, beneath it all, there was this other feeling. 

this distance. 

like it was some invisible pane of glass between him and the rest of the world. 

maybe it was because moments like these just gave him too much room to think. for as much as he tried to throw himself into the chaos of it all, he always seemed to hover just at the edge. he’d jump from table to table, turning down shots, nursing the same whiskey and coke he had been holding for over an hour. 

at some point, sadie - the devils’ PR manager - wandered over with a paloma in hand and a smile too bright. she was easy to talk to in ways most of the organization was not. she never pushed too hard and filled silences jack usually left hanging. she was nice and funny and sweet.

though, not remotely his type. 

more quinn’s speed, maybe. 

he should text his brother and set something up. it might fix the permanent stick up his ass. 

“you know,” sadie started, tilting her glass towards him, “you’re awfully sober for someone who scored the OT winner.” 

jack laughed under his breath. “i’m alright, just getting older. hangovers last, like, three business days now.” 

the redheaded girl narrowed her eyes. “get the fuck out. we are the same age, dude.” 

her fist landed against his arm with no real force behind it. 

it probably hurt her more than it hurt him. 

jack could only shrug. 

it was easier to joke about random shit than it was to talk about the emptiness that always showed up once the buzz started to fade. he could score a hundred overtime winners and it would still come back eventually, settling around his throat like a hand he could never quite shake off. 

he had no reason to feel that way. 

he had everything he had ever wanted. 

“not the first time i’ve seen you pout into your disgusting coke,” sadie said with a grimace before taking a sip of her sweet drink. 

jack rolled his eyes and lifted his glass, “i’m not pouting. i’m a grown man.” 

she looked at him for a moment, like she knew there was more he was not saying, but she let him keep it. that was another thing he liked about her, she didn’t pry more than she had to. 

“well, for what it’s worth. that shot of yours? it was pretty,” she said with a shrug. 

jack gave her an odd look, “pretty shot?” 

“yeah. super sick or whatever. definitely getting its own instagram post tomorrow morning.” 

he rolled his eyes for what had to be the fifteenth time that night. “yeah, i’m sure.” 

his gaze drifted back over the crowd. his teammates were still loud, glowing, still caught up in a happiness that kept the future from creeping in. 

jack envied that a bit. 

“oh, hey!” sadie said suddenly, straightening in her seat. “remember that friend i told you about?”

he groaned, “i don’t want to date your friend, sadie. hand her off to quinn. he needs it more than i do.” 

sadie had been on a mission the last couple of months, bringing up this mysterious friend of hers whenever she got the chance. according to her; she was sweet, worked in marketing for the NFL, and had just moved from edmonton, canada. jack trusted sadie’s judgment but that wasn’t the point. 

he just didn’t want it. 

not right now. 

then, just as quickly, his attention caught on something - well, more like someone - across the room. 

everything went blurry around the edges. 

at the entrance of the bar, stood someone he knew. 

well, he used to know. 

the room was too dark, too loud and for a second, he could not tell if his mind was playing some cruel trick on him. 

“my sweet honey!” sadie’s voice snapped him right out of it

and his stomach dropped. 

no. 

no fucking way. 

he watched as sadie hurried across the room, her paloma sloshing over the rim of the glass as she weaved through the clusters of people near the door. 

it couldn’t fucking be. 

but then she laughed. 

and jack knew. 

he could spot that laugh anywhere. it haunted his dreams.

soft. sweet. familiar enough that it knocked something loose in his chest before his brain has the time to catch up. 

y/n l/n. 

she looked so painfully out of place, like something far too gentle for the city had wandered into the wrong room by accident. 

jack looked away the second she lifted her head. 

as if staring too long would make her disappear. 

or worse - make her real. 

his fingers tightened around his watered-down drink. 

this had to be some kinda joke. 

because y/n was not supposed to be here. not after all these years. not after he had spent so long trying to bury her somewhere deep enough that even he couldn’t reach her anymore. 

maybe that had always been the problem. 

she had never truly been buried. 

she lived in the quiet spaces of his life. 

in the late nights after bad losses. in the long flights where sleep wouldn’t come. in the hollow ache that followed even his best of moments. 

she was the place in him that nobody else ever got to touch or see. 

and now she was here. 

real. breathing. 

a few feet away from him. 

his chest went tight. 

should he leave? pretend he had not seen her? should he walk over and say hi like nothing had ever happened? ask how she’d been? ask when she moved back? ask if she was seeing someone? married? maybe had some kids and a white picket fence? 

his throat dried out before he could really settle on anything. 

“jacky!” 

oh. 

oh, fuck. 

his head snapped up before he gave it much thought. sadie stood there grinning like she hadn’t detonated something in the center of his chest. 

and besides her - 

y/n. 

her fingers picked at the chipped maroon polish on her nails. she looked older obviously, but in a way that only made her prettier. 

softer yet sharper all at once. 

it had been four?

no, five years. 

maybe a little more. 

jack looked older too. broader. harder around the edges. 

yet, his face still held that same softness it did when he looked at a nineteen-year old y/n. 

she was so beautiful. 

fuck. 

it made his heart jitter. 

“jack,” sadie started brightly, “this is my fri-” 

“y/n.” he cut in before he could stop himself. 

he knew exactly who she was. 

inside and out. 

y/n’s head lifted sharply at the sound of her name in his mouth, and for a second all the color in her face drained. 

“j-jack,” her voice catch itself in her throat. 

sadie blinked, head tilting like a confused golden retriever. “oh my god! you two know each other?” 

did they know each other? 

of course they did. 

the phrase alone felt too small for whatever they had been. 

“something like that,” y/n murmured. 

jack kept his eyes on her, on the way the shock settled over her features like she still couldn’t quite believe he was real and sitting in front of her. 

“well great!” sadie exclaimed, completely oblivious. “i’ll leave you two to catch up. i gotta make sure the rookies don’t go home with any mildly attractive bartenders. that would not be good for my job.” 

and just like that, she was gone. the silence she left behind was immediate and awful. 

what were you supposed to say to someone you hadn’t seen in years? 

hi? hello? 

how are you? 

what are you doing back here? 

did you ever think about me? 

do you think about us too?

“do you want something to drink?” jack asked finally. 

to which she looked up, “uh - sure. please, actually.” 

so, he flagged down the bartender. 

“vodka cran, right?” he asked, softer now. 

she only nodded. 

yet, the stupid insignificant gesture made her heart pitter patter against her chest. 

five minutes later, the drink was in front of her, and y/n had slid onto the stool besides him. 

“t-thanks,” she said. 

jack took a sip of his drink; though by now it tasted like watered down whiskey and anxiety. 

“so,” he cleared his throat. “how are you?” 

y/n promptly choked on her drink and it was ridiculous how familiar it was. so small, so stupid, and somehow it snuffed him right in the chest. 

“fuck-sorry,” she coughed, a small hand pressing lightly into her chest. 

his hands moved before his brain did, hovering near the small of her back before he thought better of it and pushed a napkin forward instead. 

“i’m okay,” she started softly. yet, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than him. 

then she looked at him, “how are you?” 

the question rang strangely through his ears, mainly because he wasn’t sure he knew the answer to it.  “i’m okay too,” he said after a second. “busy.” 

y/n nodded and wrapped her fingers around her straw. “i didn’t know you worked with sadie. well, she technically works for you,” she said with a quiet, awkward laugh. 

jack smiled before he could stop himself. “she started working for our PR team about a year? and a half ago? i didn’t know she was your friend.” 

“oh, yeah! we’ve been friends since high school!” 

jack hummed, watching the way she popped her fingers just like she did so many years ago. “how long you in town for?” 

the simple question made her straight up. “oh. uh - i just moved back.” 

and something in jack’s expression changed. 

“really?” 

to which she nodded, “yeah. i got a job in marketing for the NFL. mostly remote but they offered more if i moved to jersey as long as i can go into their new york office a couple times a week.” 

jack couldn’t help but smile. 

“that’s great, honey.” 

the nickname slipped out before he could stop. 

stupid idiot. 

his jaw tightened and the headache started as he braced himself for her to flinch at it. 

but she didn’t. 

she smiled, so sweetly and a little startled with a faint flush of rose in her cheeks. 

“thank you, jack” 

the human heart was a stupid thing. 

because, logically. 

they both knew better. 

y/n shouldn’t have been there, sharing drinks with him like she had never left.  jack shouldn’t have been there, memorizing every laugh she gave him like he hadn’t spent years erasing it from his heart.  but logic had never done much for either of them where the other was concerned.  he cleared his throat and shifted on the stool, stirring his drink just to have something to do with his hands.

“how are you liking jersey again?” 

the question was simple but it made her shiver. 

“i’m living out of a suitcase until i can find an apartment,” she shrugged halfheartedly. 

he nodded, and a second later she yawned. 

jack smiled faintly, “tired?” 

“a little,” she admitted. “i’ve been apartment hunting all day. it’s hell.” 

“sounds awful.” he paused, “where are you staying?” 

“the hilton a few blocks from here,” she yawned again, hand slipping from her now-empty vodka cran. 

jack didn’t hesitate and set his glass down. “come on. i’ll walk you.” 

y/n knew she should’ve said no. tell him it was fine, it’s not that far. his team was still scattered around the bar and he should stay. 

but old habits die hard. 

so. fucking hard. 

and when he held his hand out for her, she found out she still didn’t know how to refuse him. 

outside, january in new jersey hit them all at once. it was cold and sharp, dry enough to steal the breath from her lungs. the noise from the bar dulled behind them as they walked, until all that was left was the faint sound of traffic and the rhythmic tap of their footsteps. 

y/n got as far as rubbing her hands together before jack was shrugging off his jacket. 

it was a little big for him but ten-times warmer than whatever she had thrown on before leaving. 

“jack, i’m fi-” 

“take it,” he said, draping it over her shoulders before she could really argue. 

“you can give it back next time i see you.” 

and the words hung between them. 

next time. 

a casual assumption. a quiet hope. 

maybe even both. 

she looked at him for a second, maybe he would take it back and walk away but he didn’t. slipping her arms into the sleeve, the jacket was still warm from him. reeked of his cologne, cold air, and something achingly familiar she refused to examine too closely. 

“did you know sadie was trying to set me up with you?” he asked. 

y/n burst into a fit of surprised giggled. “no shot!” 

jack shoved his hands into his pockets against the cold. 

“she kept telling me about this sweet friend of hers who worked in marketing and just moved here.” 

“she told me she had some hockey player in mind for me,” she smiled. “never said who.” 

for a while, neither of them said much. they walked side by side, close enough their shoulders almost brushed every few steps but never quite. it felt a little strange, how easy silence should’ve been but how heavy it lingered. 

“you seem good,” she said softly, eyes fixed on the sidewalk ahead. 

“you seem better,” jack glanced over at her. 

“most days,” she shrugged. 

by the time they reached the hotel, the walk had felt both too long and nowhere near short enough. 

“i guess this is me,” she muttered quietly. 

jack stopped in front of her and smiled. 

“you look older,” she giggled. 

older looked good on him. it had sharpened him a bit, made him steadier somehow. but there was still something stupidly boyish in his face when he looked at her for too long. almost as if time hadn’t touched the version of him she once knew. 

“you look older.” 

jack laughed, running a hand through his wind ruffled hair. “yeah?” 

and her heart did that stupid little stumble. 

“you do too.” 

“in a good way or bad way?” 

the air shifted between them. “good. really good,” jack whispered but the wind carried it. 

suddenly, it all felt too short. 

like maybe the universe had a sick and twisted sense of humor after all where it gave them back to each other for long enough to remember it and want it deeply. 

whatever it was. 

“it was nice to see you, jack.” her voice was small and soft, sweet in a way only he had known. 

his mouth tipped into something softer than a smile. “it was nice seeing you, honey.” 

there it was again. 

honey. 

as if no time had ever passed. 

y/n looked down for a second, shamefully, to gather herself. “i, um - i wanted to call. or text. but i just wasn’t sure if you still had the same number. 

maybe it was an excuse. maybe it was the truth. maybe a little bit of both. 

“same number.” 

he nodded once, but he didn’t move. didn’t say goodbye either. he just stood there, memorizing every last tiny detail of her face as if she were to disappear into thin air. 

“thanks for walking me.” 

“yeah, of course.” 

silence fell between them once again. however, it felt fragile this time around. her fingers tightened into the sleeves of his jacket. 

“i’ll see you around, jack.” 

his eyes stayed on hers; soft, almost loving. 

“yeah. see you around, honey.” 

with that, she stepped away and gave him once last wave before stepping back towards the hotel doors. and he stood there until she disappeared through the lobby and out of his sight. heart heavy with something he couldn’t name. 

was it hope? 

hope that she wouldn’t disappear again? 

once inside, y/n didn’t even realize she was crying until her fingertips brushed the swell of her cheeks. 

stupid. 

stupid, stupid, stupid. 

stupid because the second sadie and eleanor found out, neither of them would let her live it down. and stupid because the universe had a funny way of working. 

if it didn’t want you to see somebody, you simply wouldn’t. not until it decided the timing was cruel enough to matter. 

so, jack didn’t see y/n. 

y/n didn’t see jack. 

not again until the devils lost the first round of the playoffs to the hurricanes, an overtime loss that ended the series and sent new jersey home earlier than anyone had expected. 

it was the next day. 

april. 

a different bar across town. 

jack wasn’t usually the kind of person to dwell on losses. early on, hockey taught him to move on. there was always another game, another practice, another chance to improve. he had lost before, more times than he cared to count. 

but this one lingered a little heavier. 

it lodged itself beneath his ribs and didn’t budge. 

so, he sat at the bar with his hand curled around his third? or was it fourth - whiskey and coke. luke had been beside him a few minutes ago, but now he was halfway across the room playing darts with a few of the guys. their laughs echoed deliberately - in that way people did when they were trying not to think too hard. 

truthfully, jack barely noticed any of it. 

but he didn’t need to have eyes on the back of his head to see y/n walk in because he felt it. felt it in the way the air shifted and his chest tightened before his mind could catch up. it was a sudden awareness that settled over him like a hand against the back of his neck. 

“didn’t peg you as the sulking type.” her voice was soft, almost velvet against the harsh noise of the bar. 

jack turned. 

she stood to the right of him with one hand wrapped around a tall glass of vodka cran while the other tugged absentmindedly at the hem of her black skirt. her hair was a little windblown from the outside, cheeks flushed a brighter pink and eyes brighter than he remembered. 

and he realized how dangerous this was going to be. 

“you look like some brooding, tortured athlete. it’s really not your best look, hughes," she added, mouth twitching. 

a laugh slipped out of him before he could really stop himself. 

it was low and tired. 

“well, losing in the first round does that to a guy.” but his words lacked bite. 

because it was y/n. 

somehow, with her, everything in him softened.

she slid onto the stool beside him, angling towards him like it was the easiest thing. like they hadn’t spent years as ghosts in each other’s lives. 

“what are you doing here?” his voice was honest, surprised and a little in disbelief. 

“sadie invited eleanor and i,” she said. “apparently she needs some reinforcements while keeping twenty professional athletes from self-destructing in public.” 

“sounds about right,” he laughed, almost sarcastically. 

y/n smiled.

because really what kind of reinforcements could she possibly be? 

jack stared for a second too long, like he was trying to decipher if she was truly real or not. had the drinks gotten to him or was it the gloomy cloud that hung over his head? 

“you staying long?” he asked. 

she shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. “depends how quickly i get bored.”

“what? am i boring to you now?” 

she laughed, a genuine laugh that came from the bottom of her being. 

they fell into conversation after that, easy in a way that shouldn’t have been because of the amount of time spent apart. they talked a little bit about everything and nothing, the way two grown adults did when they were drifting around from what actually mattered because the drinks were too good to stop. 

work. 

new jersey. 

edmonton. 

sadie. 

somehow luke came up. 

but beneath it all, under every toothy smile and every half-teasing comment, there was that same quiet pull that entangled them at nineteen. 

it was sweet and dangerous and unfinished. it got easier, after a while. 

the drinks helped, of course. or they just made it harder to pretend that pull didn’t exist. 

“come on,” jack said finally, rolling his shoulders back as he stood. 

“w-where are we going?” she blinked up at him. 

“outside. there’s a patio. it’s nice. you’d like it,” he muttered, finger pointing towards the back. 

you’d like it. 

such a simple, stupid and little sentence yet it made something in her chest flutter at the mere softness of it. so, she followed him through the crowd and past the noise, heat and stale smell of beer and out the back. april in jersey was a little better than january. the air lacked it’s usual frosty bite but it was just as restless and sharp that it made her shiver the second they stepped outside. 

she couldn’t help but curse herself for choosing maybe the thinnest babydoll top in her closet. 

but jack was shrugging out of his jacket before she could begin to protest. and she didn’t because his voice was quiet and firm in that effortless way that told her arguing would be pointless. 

just take it, honey. you’ll freeze if you don’t. 

so she let him because some fights had always been impossible to win against him. the jacket was still warm from his body, smelling faintly of a different cologne this time around. for a moment, neither of them said anything. they leaned against the railing, side by side. inside, the muffled pulse of music bled through the walls. somewhere nearby, a fire pit crackled softly as an orange light flickered across the empty patio. 

they were alone. 

oh, so terribly fucking alone. 

“are you avoiding me?” 

the words landed between them with enough force to knock the air from her lungs. 

she turned too fast, eyes wide. 

“what?” 

he looked at her then, properly with a tight jaw as regret visibly oozed off of him. 

“what makes you think that?” the slight waver in her voice gave her away before she even finished. 

jack shrugged as the fire creaked beside them, though there was nothing casual about it. 

“i think if i hadn’t run into you in january, you would’ve never reached out. even after moving back.” 

y/n froze and her gaze dropped to her hands like she had been caught red-handed because she practically had. 

he was right. 

oh so painfully right. 

“i didn’t think..” she stopped, swallowed the knot that persisted in her throat and tried again. “i didn’t think you cared to hear from me.” 

jack couldn’t help but frown, the expression deep and real enough to make her chest physically ache. because he had a way with his stupid face to make her feel that. 

“all i wanted was to hear from you.” his voice was soft in a way that was only used for her. 

the world seemed to go strangely still around them. the fire glowed a brighter orange, the wind moved and somewhere inside people laughed. but out there, the entire world narrowed down to that empty patio with two long lost strangers. 

jack took a step closer. 

then another. 

“oh, honey.” 

he was wrecked. he could try to hide it but he had never been good at that. 

and that stupid nickname. 

it did things to her. 

it hit her just as hard every single time. 

y/n’s head spun and his voice blurred around the edges after that. 

something about missing her. about wanting to call and not knowing if he should. something about maybe she would’ve been happier had he never disrupted her life. about a life they could’ve had together. 

and then he was close enough that she could feel the heat of him despite the cold. close enough that all she had to do was lean in and take something she’d been craving for years. 

something heavier settled between them then. 

it wasn’t awkward nor uncomfortable. 

it was almost recognition?

like they were both standing in the middle of something they had done countless times before. 

“i miss you, honey.” 

his words were low and uneven, charged with years of unresolved feelings. her throat tightened but she couldn’t help the teasing smile on her lips. 

“yeah?” 

it came out smaller than intended. 

softer around the edges. 

jack gave a quiet, disbelieving laugh. 

yeah. 

so fucking much. 

and maybe that was what they had been circling around all night. 

she didn’t move, partially because she couldn’t move. she didn’t step back and sure as hell didn’t tell him no. 

not when his hand lifted slowly to her face, rough fingertips brushing her cheek with an impossible gentleness. as if she was something precious to him. something breakable, something untouchable. and he hesitated for a second; long enough to give her an out. 

to stop him if she really wanted him to. but she so clearly didn’t want him to. 

so he kissed her. 

soft at first. 

so soft it hurt. 

a careful, almost disbelieving press of his lips against hers. his mind was having a hard time deciphering whether or not she was real but the second she kissed him back, something in him gave. 

it wasn’t messy. 

it wasn’t rushed. 

it just ached. 

years of unfinished feelings poured into it. 

in the way his mouth moved hurriedly against hers. in the way her fingers fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. his lips were softer than she had remembered. 

everything else wasn’t. 

it was longing and desperation. 

quiet, wrecked coated in a sense of relief. 

the relief of finally touching again. it almost burned. 

her heart pounded hard enough she could feel it in her throat, her wrist and in the tips of her fingers as her hand trembled. jack’s hand slid from her cheek to her waist and spread there in a weak attempt to ground himself using her fleeting warmth. 

maybe that was the worst part. 

how right it felt. how easy it was for her to fall into him. how completely she had failed at staying away. 

their foreheads touched, breaths wildly uneven. his hand still on her waist, her fingers still curled into him. 

for a second, neither of them said anything. 

this was a bad idea. 

a terrible one. 

possibly the worst thing they could do. 

yet, neither of them moved. neither of them let go. 

“do you wanna leave?” jack asked quietly. 

with no hesitation left in her voice, she whispered “yeah.” 

because that had been the problem when it came to jack hughes. 

she had never really known how to say no to him.