beautiful brown eyes

She looks pretty tonight in that slightly dangerous way she gets when she’s made herself look casual on purpose. 

Little skirt. Sweater slipping a little off one shoulder. Gloss on her mouth that he’s been trying not to stare at too obviously because she gets shy when he looks at her like that in public, even though she had been in his lap thirty minutes before they left, kissing him stupid in his bedroom while wearing that exact same gloss and making very few arguments about public decency then.

That’s the thing, she isn’t shy with him. Not when it’s just them and his door is closed and she’s stealing his shirts and talking shit from the middle of his bed like she owns both him and the mattress.

She can be bossy, ridiculous, soft in that greedy sleepy way after sex when she tucks herself under his chin and mumbles half-formed complaints about his cold feet even though his feet aren’t anywhere near her.

But out here, with everyone watching and liking her and wanting a piece of her, she gets quieter. She makes herself easy to need. Easy to ask. Easy to lean on. She smiles before she’s decided if she means yes. She nods while her fingers have already gone tense around her straw.

And Garrett, unfortunately for everyone, has started noticing. It happens three times before he says anything.

First, a girl from one of her classes slides up to the booth and asks if she can send over her notes from Tuesday because she missed half the lecture and you always write everything down so neatly, babe, you’re literally a lifesaver.

Garrett feels her knee press a little harder into his under the table. She smiles, quick and sweet, and says, “Yeah, of course, just text me,” even though she’d told him in the car she hadn’t even finished her own summary yet because the week had been brutal.

Second, some guy from a group project appears beside them holding a beer and a sheepish expression that Garrett immediately doesn’t like. “Hey, sorry, I know you’re out, but could you maybe fix the slides before Sunday? You’re just better at making them look, like, less shitty.”

Her mouth opens. Closes. Garrett watches the pause happen in her body before anyone else would catch it. The tiny lift of her shoulders. The way her thumb rubs once over the condensation on her glass. Then she says, “Yeah, I can look at them,” and the guy grins like he’s just successfully outsourced guilt.

Garrett’s jaw clicks. Dean’s eyes flick to him. Because Dean, for all his crimes against taste and door-knocking etiquette, has predator-level instincts for upcoming drama. His mouth twitches around the rim of his drink.

“Don’t,” Garrett mutters.

Dean lifts both hands. “Didn’t say anything.”

The third one is the one that makes Garrett set his beer down a little too carefully. A puck bunny named Kelsey, who’s sweet enough in a mostly harmless, very shiny way and has been around the hockey house enough to know better than to flirt with Garrett anymore, bounces up with her phone already in her hand. 

“Oh my God, there you are. Can you please help me with something? My roommate’s birthday thing is tomorrow and I told her you’d probably make those little cupcakes you brought to Tucker’s party because they were so cute, and I know it’s last minute, but you’re so good at that stuff.”

Tomorrow is Saturday. Tomorrow she has a paper to finish, a brunch with her friends she already tried to cancel once, and plans with him that he has been looking forward to with what he would personally consider a normal, chill, masculine amount of anticipation. 

He hasn’t been mentally organising the entire day around keeping her in bed until noon and then taking her to that diner she likes where she steals his hash browns. That would be insane. He’s very normal about his girlfriend.

She smiles anyway. “Um,” she says, soft enough that Garrett’s attention sharpens around it. “Yeah, maybe. I can probably–”

“Nope,” Garrett says.

The table goes quiet in the satisfying way a table does when the captain voice comes out without warning.

She turns her head toward him, eyes widening. “Garrett.”

He doesn’t look at her yet because he knows if he does, she’ll do that thing where she says his name like she’s embarrassed and fond and mortified all at once, and he’ll be tempted to soften before the point lands. So he looks at Kelsey instead and gives her his nicest, most public-facing smile, the one that has made professors extend deadlines and girls forgive him for sins he’d absolutely committed.

“She’s not making cupcakes tomorrow,” he says easily. “She’s busy.”

Kelsey blinks. “Oh. I mean, it’s totally fine if–”

“She’s busy,” he repeats, still pleasant. “Sorry, Kels.”

Kelsey looks a little surprised, then shrugs and laughs it off with a, “No, yeah, totally, sorry, babe, don’t worry about it,” before drifting back into the crowd with her phone still in hand, probably already searching for another girl with a functioning oven and weaker boyfriend security.

But beside him, his girlfriend has gone very still.

Dean’s grin spreads slowly across the table. “Wow.”

Garrett points at him without looking. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying. Very brave. Very feminist of you, speaking over a woman like that.”

“Dean,” Tucker says mildly.

“What? I’m processing.”

Logan appears at the edge of the booth, because the scent of Garrett doing something emotionally revealing has summoned him from the bar. “What’d I miss?”

“Garrett just became her secretary,” Dean says.

Garrett leans back, arm still behind her. “I became her union rep.”

Tucker nods like this is fair. “Better benefits.”

She makes a tiny sound then. She looks down at her drink, and Garrett feels the heat of her embarrassment without needing to see her face properly. It moves through her in little tells he knows too well now: fingers to the straw, mouth pressing together, knee shifting away and then back again like her body can’t decide whether to hide from him or lean into him.

Garrett’s humour softens before his mouth does. He ducks his head closer, voice dropping under the noise. “Baby.”

She gives him a look from under her lashes. “You can’t just say no for me.”

“I can, actually. Felt pretty natural.”

“Garrett.”

“What?” He lets his fingers slide from her hair to the back of her neck, thumb rubbing once under the edge of her sweater where her skin has gone warm. “You were about to spend your Saturday making cupcakes for some girl’s roommate because she called them cute.”

“She was being nice.”

“She was asking for free labour.”

Her mouth twitches before she can stop it, which feels like a personal win.

“I could’ve said no,” she says, but there’s not enough force behind it to convince either of them. Her gaze drops again, softer now, landing somewhere near his collar. “I just didn’t want to make it awkward.”

Garrett looks at her for a second. The whole bar keeps moving around them, bodies and noise and sticky light, but the booth seems to pull inward a little, shrinking down to the line of her shoulder against his ribs and the careful way she’s not looking at him too directly.

“Babe,” he says, low enough that Dean’s nosy ass has to pretend very hard not to listen. “You are allowed to make things awkward.”

She snorts, quiet and reluctant. “Easy for you to say. You make everything awkward on purpose.”

“Yeah, and look at me. Thriving.”

“You’re not thriving. You got banned from the student union coffee cart for arguing about oat milk.”

“That was a misunderstanding.”

She actually laughs, small but real, and some of the tightness leaves her shoulders. Garrett’s hand stays at the back of her neck, warm and steady. He watches her fight with the smile on her mouth like she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction, which is fine. He has plenty of satisfaction. He’s rich in it. Obnoxiously wealthy, really.

He bends closer, lips brushing her temple because he can get away with that in public and because he likes the way she tilts into him even when she’s trying to be cross. “Let me be the asshole sometimes.”

She turns her face slightly, just enough that her cheek brushes his jaw. “You’re already the asshole sometimes.”

“Exactly. I have experience.” His thumb moves again, slow over the delicate knobs at the top of her spine. “You don’t have to say yes to everybody just because they like you.”

She stares at the table for a second too long, at the fries, the damp glasses, the little chaos of napkins Dean has somehow shredded into a pile. When she speaks, her voice comes out quieter. “I know.”

Garrett doesn’t push. He’s learning that with her. The same way he’s learned that she gets overwhelmed at parties before she admits it, that she says I’m fine in a tone that means please notice but don’t make me explain this in front of people, that she can be the girl everyone loves and still go rigid when too many expectations hook into her at once.

So he keeps it simple. Keeps it warm and a little teasing because that’s where she can breathe. “Here’s the system,” he says. “You look at me. I say no. They get mad at me because I’m a huge dick. You stay perfect and beloved.”

She rolls her eyes, but her shoulder settles more fully into his side. “That’s not a system.”

“It’s a great system.”

Across the table, Tucker lifts a fry. “For what it’s worth, I support the system.”

Dean nods gravely. “Same. Mainly because watching Garrett politely tell people to fuck off is one of the few joys he provides.”

Logan slides into the booth beside Tucker with a fresh beer. “Wait, are we weaponising Garrett’s resting captain face? Because I’ve been saying we should do that for years.”

She groans and covers her face with one hand, but she’s laughing now, soft and helpless behind her fingers. Garrett feels it against his ribs and smiles down at her like an idiot, though he would deny the idiot part in court.

“See?” he murmurs, kissing the side of her head again. “Whole team effort.”

She drops her hand and looks up at him at last, eyes warm and slightly embarrassed and full of something that makes his chest go a little stupid. “You’re annoying.”

“Yeah,” he says, grinning. “But you picked me.”

Her mouth curves. “I did pull Garrett Graham.”

Dean gags immediately. “Please don’t say his full name during couple foreplay. Some of us are eating.”

Garrett flicks a fry at him without looking away from her. “You did,” he says, smug and soft at the same time because with her, apparently, he can be both and survive it. “So use me.”

Her eyebrows lift.

“Not like that,” he says, then pauses because, false advertising helps no one. “Also like that. But right now I meant for saying no.”

She laughs again, brighter this time, and tucks herself closer under his arm, her hand finding his knee beneath the table and squeezing once. Her fingers stay there afterward, warm through the denim, like some part of her has put down a weight she didn’t realise she’d been carrying.

A few minutes later, when the group project guy circles back and starts with, “Hey, sorry, one more thing–” she doesn’t answer right away.

She looks at Garrett. 

Garrett smiles. “Nope,” he says, cheerful as hell. “She’s off the clock.”

The guy blinks. “Oh. Okay. Yeah, no problem.”

He leaves.

She stares at Garrett for a second, then bites her lip around the smile trying to happen. “You enjoyed that way too much.”

He leans in, brushing his mouth over hers once, soft and quick and shameless enough to make her cheeks go pink. “Baby,” he says, voice low, grin right there against her lips. “You have no idea.”

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

to be notified when i post new fics, follow @kooksandpearls-library and turn on notifications! i no longer use a taglist for garrett fics.

what did he have to be upset about? you were the one who got demoted to something even less than casual . . . whatever that was.

sighing, you slammed your textbook shut, resisting the urge to roll your eyes when everyone in the library shushed you.

they were acting as though you had just opened your mouth and screamed from the top of your lungs.

glancing around, your eyes narrowed when they spotted the big mouthed gossip that had outed his own best friend loitering in one of the aisles.

dean didn’t exactly seem like the type to even know what a book was, nevermind actually read one.

as if he could sense your eyes on him, he turned around, his expression changing to one you couldn’t quite decipher.

“please don’t come over here” you repeated to yourself almost silently, crossing your fingers under the table as if it was an absolute solution.

dean hesitated for a moment before rolling his eyes, pushing off the bookshelf as he headed in your direction.

“shit” you cursed, regretting your choice to study in the library instead of your isolated dorm room.

he tutted at you and shook his head, “i heard that, and here’s me thinking you were a lady”

you scoffed at him, “jesus, you’d know all about the ladies wouldn’t you? manwhore”

he perked up, grinning brightly as he sat down across from you, “thanks, gorgeous”

oh, did he think that was a compliment-

gritting your teeth, you clicked on the end of your pen in annoyance, “is there something you wanted? other than to piss me off, of course”

dean looked around the library and gestured for you to lean in closer.

you happily obliged so you could get this over with, resting your arms on the table and leaning in closer.

“you need to fix whatever high-school drama you have going on with g. i shouldn’t even be talking to you about this shit but we need our captain back” dean whispered, acting like someone could be spying on the two of you.

you were about to tell dean to mind his own business, but the sound of someone clearing their throat made you jump back in your chair.

the two of you turned your heads towards the sound, a beat of awkward silence now circling the room.

garrett graham was standing at the end of your table, and he looked pissed.

of course garrett was here right now! you had never even seen these idiots in the library before, and now you suddenly you couldn’t escape them.

it felt like someone was sat behind a big screen, laughing and pointing at you as if this was some sort of joke.

“can we help you?” dean says, trying to fight the mischievous grin that was forming on his face.

garrett looked between the two of you in annoyance, “what do you mean can we help you? why the fuck are you huddled together”

this whole interaction felt like a bad case of déjà vu, feeling a little too similar to the events of the last time all three of you were together.

you shrugged, “we were just having a chat, no need to get your panties in a twist”

dean snorted loudly, getting up and offering his empty seat to garrett who was still stood there with his arms crossed.

“i’ll leave you to talk and for fuck sake graham, be a man for once” dean says, patting garrett on the back before pushing the library doors open, winking at the two of you as he left.

garrett looked tired - he had dark circles under his eyes, his brown hair was a mess, and he had a face full of stubble which told you he hadn’t bothered to shave in a while.

pursing your lips, you tapped your pen against the stack of papers in front of you and waited for him to stop standing there like an idiot.

garrett eventually gave in, taking his jacket off and slinging it over the back of the chair as he sat down.

his tall frame made the chair look small, leaning back with his arms behind his head and his knees apart.

the way his muscles bulged through the thin material of his plain white t-shirt had you distracted, not even registering the words he was saying.

“and yeah, allie and dean slept together last night” he says, trying to pull your from your perverted daydreaming.

“that is the biggest lie i have ever heard! you could’ve picked something more believable” you huffed, slightly annoyed that his tactics worked.

garrett shrugged and his lips tilted up in a smug smile, “yeah, no shit - but it worked didn’t it?”

“ugh, whatever. are we going to talk about the elephant in the room or not?” you asked, feeling impatience start to creep in, wrapping around your mind like poison ivy.

he dragged his hands down his face like he was feeling the same impatience, “i don’t know what else there is to say”

unbelievable.

one minute garrett was supposedly “in love” with you and the next minute he was saying that you had been around “too much” lately.

there was plenty to say, you were just trying to remember a library was not the place to start anything more heated than a light discussion.

”do you love me, garrett?” you asked outright, not caring whether his answer was yes or no - you just wanted the truth for once.

“you can’t just ask someone if they love you” garrett exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

the air turned colder as the seconds ticked by, almost as if nature could feel the thick tension too.

“it’s a simple-“, “it is not a simple question at all and don’t pretend like it is” garrett says, cutting you off.

the people sat at the table next to you shushed the two of you.

“goddamnit, we’re having a conversation. if you don’t like it, fuck off” garrett whisper shouted in their direction, staring them dead in the eye.

they murmured amongst themselves before getting up and pushing their chairs in, heading for the exit.

he pushed his brown curls away from his face as he tried to find the right words to say, “look, i know i like spending time with you. my friends clearly seem to like you too which is the biggest achievement of all”

he huffed out a sigh of amusement and disbelief as he continued, “dean and his big fucking mouth”

you nodded in agreement, “dean and his big fucking mouth”

he gave you that dimpled smile that could melt icebergs as well as hearts, “you’re the first person i’ve wanted more than sex with. i just don’t know what that means yet” garrett admitted.

“uh, thanks?” you say.

he rolled his eyes dramatically, “you know what i mean”

you did know what he meant, he just had a very garrett graham way of saying it.

and although it felt like garrett still wasn’t telling you the whole story, it wasn’t up to your or dean to force it out of him.

“how about you take me on a date first before you kill me with these panty dropping declarations?” you say, wanting to lighten the mood, tired of the darkness that’s been following you like a shadow lately.

this caught his attention, “jesus, don’t talk about panties right now” he groaned, his mind going somewhere else, just like a typical man.

”or what?” you say, tilting your head in defiance as you looked up at him through your lashes.

he grabbed your hand that was flat against the wooden table, pulling you up and guiding you round until you were stood in front of him.

your ass was perched on the edge of the table and garrett placed his hands on your thighs, pulling them open so he could slot his body between them.

he fit perfectly, like he was made to fill any empty spaces you created.

garrett pulled you towards him and you landed on his lap, a squeal escaping your mouth at the unexpected move.

his gaze landed on your lips, a gruff groan leaving his mouth when your tongue darted out to wet them.

“fuck it” garrett said, hand wrapping around the back of your next as he pulled you in for a breathtaking kiss.

his other hand slid up the back of your t-shirt, his warm skin against your own feeling euphoric after going so long without touching him.

you could feel his arousal, the loose basketball shorts he was wearing doing nothing to conceal what he was feeling for you right now.

you were so wrapped up in each other that you didn’t hear the door creak open.

“damn, y/n. i didn’t know you had it in you” dean says, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.

garrett’s hands slipped from your body as your heads simultaneously whipped to the side at the sound of deans voice.

“what the fuck?” you both say at the same time.

“when i said sort it out, this wasn’t exactly what i meant” dean whistled humourously, his watchful gaze full of heat.

garrett reached around you to grab one of your books from the table and threw it in deans direction, “why are you lurking like a fucking pervert, dude?

the book was just short of hitting dean, much to garrett’s annoyance.

“some of us have exams to study for, g. whatever, i’ll just come back later and leave you lovebirds to it” dean says, voice laced with mock sadness.

as if. everyone knew dean didn’t study, he just wrote what he thought was right and prayed for the best.

garrett closed his eyes and took a deep breath, looking like he was ready to chase dean out of the door himself.

“wrap it before you tap it, graham! i’m not ready to be an uncle yet” dean says, not turning back around as he headed out of the door, leaving you alone with garrett once again.

you rested your head on garrett’s shoulder, your body shaking with laughter at the blonde hair menace who always had the worst timing in the world.

when you were finally out of laughter, you pulled back and nodded at garrett to which he nodded back, coming to a mutual understanding without even having to say anything.

“hey, and no more secret meetings with dilaurentis because he’ll end up corrupting you with his bullshit. deal?”

“deal” you murmured in agreement.

this was a temporary resolution, but it wasn’t like love was the first thing on your mind either considering you hadn’t even been out with garrett off campus yet.

although, a date with a man known for one night stands was as close to love as you could get. for now at least.

the two of you had been hooking up for a while now, but it was . . . casual. he was too busy for a girlfriend and you were too busy to try and change his mind.

sighing, you drummed your fingers against your thighs impatiently, waiting for garrett to come downstairs.

"is he even here?" you asked tucker, settling on talking to the most "normal" one out of all of them.

you had plans to meet garrett at his house today, but he wasn't exactly known for his top notch timekeeping skills.

he nodded, slapping deans hand away when he tried to reach for the spread of food that was being arranged on the table.

"dude, why do you keep making food if we're not even allowed to eat the damn stuff" dean huffed, throwing himself down on the couch next to you in defeat.

the blonde haired trouble causer turned to you with a big grin on his face, "so, what's the deal with you and graham? that boy doesn't tell us anything"

"i find that hard to believe. you're all his bro's or whatever aren't you?" you say, using your fingers to put air quotes around the word "bro's".

instead of answering, dean went on to pepper you with more invasive questions.

you huffed out a laugh despite yourself, "you're awfully nosey, you know that?"

dean's hand slapped against his chest in mock disbelief, "you're lucky that graham loves you because otherwise i would be-"

"he what?" you cut him off, not sure if you just heard him correctly.

"ohhh, shit" dean says.

the whole room went silent. tucker stopped chopping vegetables, logan paused his video game, and dean stared at you with wide eyes like a child that had just been caught sneaking candy.

a creak on the stairs broke the painful silence and you glanced up to see garrett stood there, his arms folded across his chest.

"what the actual fuck is going on down here?" garrett says, not moving from his spot on the stairs.

dean pursed his lips in thought, "i just told y/n that you love her"

okay, maybe it wasn't in thought at all. jesus christ this guy had no filter.

not knowing what to say, you chuckled awkwardly and pointed towards towards the door, "sooo, i'm just going to go"

you scooped up your bag and dashed out of the door before anyone could try to stop you, shutting it tightly behind.

even through the heavy wooden door you could hear the sudden arguments.

"jesus christ, dean. you're with a new girl every day and suddenly you can't have a normal conversation with one just because she doesn't want to fuck you?" garrett yelled.

the rest of the conversation became incoherent but you were sure you heard dean say, "how do you know she doesn't want to fuck me?"

your head was a mess as deans accidental confession actually started to sink in.

you didn't have a chance to make it off the porch before the door swung open again, revealing garrett stood on the other side.

dean popped his blonde head around the frame, "he has plans to kill me later so if you-"

someone decided to have mercy on you and dragged him back inside the house, the door slamming shut behind them.

here he was in all his glory. he had messy hair from the nap he clearly took not long ago and basketball shorts low his hips, toned abs on full display.

"see something you like?" he smirked, leaning back against the wall, the tension melting with every word he spoke.

you shrugged indifferently, "do you mean like or do you mean love? because who knows the difference these days"

he let out a long sigh of frustration, dragging a hand down his face, "listen, take no notice of that idiot. i never do"

"how come you don't invite me to your games? i mean, we've been seeing each other for months now and i haven't been to a single one" you say, frustration bubbling in your gut as words spill out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"i'm going to kill that little bastard- fine. i don't invite you to my games because you distract me. i can't focus on anything else when you're in the room and i can't risk being distracted out on the rink"

was that a compliment? it sort of sounded like one.

you nodded slowly, "so why couldn't you have just said that? why does everything have to be a mystery with you garrett"

"this was meant to be a casual one time thing, and suddenly you're in my house and you're talking to my friends" he says.

scoffing, you jabbed a finger against his bare chest, "you're the one who asked me to come over garrett and despite what you're clearly used to, i didn't beg to see you"

the audacity of men would never fail to amaze you. they ask you to come over and then wonder why you're suddenly in their house.

"can i finish my sentence?" he says, raising his eyebrows in amusement at your persistent rebuttals.

you shrug and gesture for him to continue, "if you must"

"jesus, what i'm trying to say is that it doesn't feel casual anymore. i see you more than i see those fuckers in there and i live with em'" he says.

"i'm not saying i'm in love with you ─ because shit, we've never even been on a date. unless fucking in a frat house full of other guys counts as a date to women"

"it does not" you add.

"i don't do girlfriends. you know this as much as every other girl knows this" he says.

the words taste bitter in his mouth. it wasn't a lie, he doesn't do girlfriends, but everything was telling him to break his own rules.

"wow, garrett, does this type of flattery usually work on these lucky girls?"

he grinned smugly, hands in the pockets of his shorts, "damn straight it does, baby"

your phone buzzed in your pocket and you internally groaned when you glanced at the time. you were only meant to be staying for an hour because you promised allie you would help her study for midterms.

"look, i've gotta go. i promised allie i would help her with the upcoming exams. we're all good, graham. casual it is!" you say brightly, jogging down the steps before he can respond.

garrett watches on until you disappear around the corner before going back inside to be met by the disappointed stares of his three friends.

"dude, really? i don't do girlfriends?" logan says, repeating garrett's earlier words.

dean sighed dramatically and shook his head, "yeah, you really fucked that one up"

garrett points a finger at dean accusatorially, "it's your fucking fault, dipshit. this is the last time i ever tell you anything" he says, breezing past everyone as he grabbed a beer from the fridge.

"practice is tomorrow" tucker says in concern, nodding towards the beer in garrett's hand.

"lay off, tuck" he says, jaw tense as he sat in his usual spot on the couch.

logan being the more empathetic one of the group, decided to take over the conversation before it got out of hand.

"so, you do love her then?" he says carefully, not wanting to end up on garrett's shit list along with dean.

garrett cursed and leaned back against the couch, "yeah? no? how am i meant to know if i love someone or not"

"the fact that you're instrested in more than just sleeping with her is answer enough" logan says, knowing garrett hasn't given this much time or thought to one person before.

"fuck this ─ someone pass me another beer" garrett muttered, needing a way to turn his mind off for a couple of hours.

a hungover practice it was.

The Briar University hockey team had a lot of rules, but the unofficial one everyone knew was simple: Do not mess with Garrett Graham’s focus.

As the captain, his mind was usually a hyper-fixated grid of plays, stats, and leading his team to a national championship. But lately, his focus hadn’t been on the ice. It had been on you.

And frankly, you were exhausted.

For three months, it had been a relentless back-and-forth. Flirty banter in the library, lingering stares across crowded party rooms at the hockey house, and text messages that walked a razor-thin line between friendly and something that made your stomach do backflips. Garrett was a self-proclaimed flirt, a guy who treated the dating scene like a casual scrimmage. But you weren’t interested in being a scrimmage. You wanted the real game, or you wanted out.

Which brought you to tonight.

The hockey house was buzzing after a massive win against Harvard. Music rattled the floorboards, cups were flying, and Garrett was currently the center of attention in the living room, surrounded by teammates and a handful of adoring fans.

You stood by the kitchen island, watching him laugh at something Wellsy said. As if sensing your eyes, Garrett’s gaze shifted. His smile softened, turning into that specific, crooked smirk he reserved just for you. He excused himself from the crowd and started making his way over, his broad shoulders easily cutting through the sea of college students.

"Hey," he said, leaning his hip against the counter right next to you. Up close, he smelled like expensive cologne, cold air, and just a hint of beer. "I was wondering when you’d show up. Did you see that third-period assist?"

"Hard to miss it, Graham. The announcers wouldn't stop screaming your name," you said, keeping your tone casual despite the way your heart hammered against your ribs.

"Yeah? Did it impress you?" He leaned a fraction closer, his dark eyes sparkling with that familiar, playful mischief. "Because I'm pretty sure I did it just for you."

There it was. The line. The playful push-and-pull he always initiated. Usually, you’d bite. You’d throw back a witty retort, he’d laugh, and you’d spend the night dancing around the giant elephant in the room.

But tonight, you just felt tired.

You set your drink down on the counter with a soft thud. "Garrett, stop."

His smirk faltered, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "What? It’s just a joke."

"That’s the problem," you said, your voice quiet but steady beneath the thumping bass of the music. "Everything is a joke. Or a game. And I think I'm done playing games with you."

Garrett blinked, completely caught off guard. The easy, confident posture he usually held melted away, replaced by a sudden, rigid tension. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," you sighed, crossing your arms. "We’ve been doing this dance for months. You flirt, you pull me close, and then the second things feel real, you back off and pretend it’s all just casual banter. I like you, Garrett. I really do. But I'm not going to sit around waiting for you to decide if I’m worth taking seriously or if I'm just another trophy for your ego."

The noise of the party seemed to fade into the background. Garrett stared at you, his jaw dropping slightly. For the first time since you’d met him, the golden-boy captain looked completely speechless.

"I... y/n, that’s not—"

"It's fine," you interrupted gently, giving him a sad, small smile. "You don't have to say anything. Congrats on the win tonight. I’m gonna go home."

You turned on your heel and headed straight for the front door, not wanting him to see the sting of tears in your eyes. You pushed through the heavy wooden door, stepping out into the crisp, quiet autumn air of the porch. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and began walking down the driveway.

"y/n! Wait!"

You heard the heavy thud of his sneakers before you saw him. You turned around just as Garrett jogged down the porch steps, completely ignoring the fact that he hadn't grabbed a jacket.

"Garrett, go back inside, you're going to freeze," you said, stepping backward.

"I don't care about the cold," he panted, stopping a few feet away from you. The porch light caught the sharp angles of his face, and for once, there was no smugness there. He looked desperate. Terrified, even. "You think I'm playing games with you?"

"Aren't you?"

"No!" Garrett dragged a hand through his hair, pacing a small circle before stepping right back into your space. "God, y/n, no. If I'm dancing around it, it's not because you're a game. It's because I'm terrified of ruining the only good thing in my life right now."

You froze, staring at him. "What?"

"I’ve never done this before," he confessed, his voice dropping into a raw, vulnerable register that sent shivers down your spine. "The real stuff. The relationship stuff. Everyone expects me to be this confident, untouchable guy who has everything figured out. But when it comes to you? I’m clueless. I flirt because it's safe. Because if I told you how much I actually think about you, how much I need you around, I was scared I’d scare you off."

He took another step forward, closing the distance between you until you could feel the heat radiating from his chest. He reached down, his large, warm hands gently cupping your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. His eyes searched yours, completely open and entirely defenseless.

"I'm done playing games too," Garrett whispered, his breath hitching. "I don't want to banter anymore. I don't want to pretend. I want you. Properly. If you'll have me."

Your heart did a violent flip, the anger and exhaustion evaporating into the cold night air. "You're serious?" you whispered back.

"Dead serious," he said, a small, relieved smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I'm crazy about you, y/n."

You didn't answer with words. Instead, you reached up, wrapping your hands around his wrists, and pulled him down to meet you.

The kiss wasn't like the playful, teasing brushes of lips you'd imagined. It was deep, desperate, and filled with months of built-up tension. Garrett groaned softly against your mouth, his hands sliding from your face down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. He held you like you were the only anchor keeping him grounded, his lips moving against yours with a fierce, possessive warmth.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to breathe, his forehead rested against yours. His eyes were dark, a heavy, beautiful heat swirling within them.

"So," Garrett murmured, his thumb stroking the bare skin of your waist where your shirt had ridden up slightly. "Are we on the same page now?"

You let out a breathless laugh, burying your face in his chest for a second before looking back up at him. "Yeah, Graham. We're on the same page."

He grinned—that bright, blinding smile that usually made headlines, but this time, it belonged entirely to you. He looped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you back toward the warmth of the house.

He spots you, about 30 meters ahead, walking like you were in a hurry to get where you were going. It looks like a scene from a movie. The path ahead is lit by nothing but a row of glowing golden street lamps, the white of the snow reflecting the warm hue.

“Hey! Wait up!” He calls out, his boots crunching loudly as he jogs down the snow-covered library steps to catch up to you.

He moves faster once he’s down the stairs. Not looking where he’s going, he doesn’t see the sheet of black ice peeking out from the snow. His right foot lands directly on it, causing his legs to fly out from under him. A split second later, he hits the frozen floor with a thud that knocks the wind out of him.

He groans, eyes squeezing shut as his bruised tailbone throbs. He doesn’t hear you run over and kneel beside him in the slush. So, when he blinks his eyes open, he’s convinced that fall took him out.

The world around you is a blur. The only thing that’s clear is your face, full of worry as you lean over him. You’re positioned perfectly to block the glare of the lamp behind you. It creates a golden halo around your face as the white snow continues to fall around you.

Your voice is soft, almost like a melody drifting through the air. “Hey… are you okay?”

“Am I in heaven?” It isn’t the opening line he had planned to use on you, but under the glowing lights and snow, it seems fitting.

Realising he’s not seriously hurt, you let out a soft laugh. It’s breathless and light, and the sound wraps around Logan like a warm hug. “Not quite.”

The fog in his brain clears, but he doesn’t take your outstretched gloved hand. Instead, his dark eyes imprint your features to his memory, utterly captivated. Looking down at him, your eyes catch the giant Briar U Hawks logo across his chest.

“Not so good on the ice, are you?” You tease, a playful smile pulling at your lips. “And here I thought the Hawks were a decent ice hockey team.”

Logan slaps his hand over his chest. “Ouch,” he groans dramatically. “And here I thought angels were supposed to be nice.”

“Only to people who need it.” Your eyes sparkle with amusement.

He chuckles, finally reaching up to take your hand. He doesn’t pull himself up right away though, instead choosing to look up at you with as much of a charming smile that he can muster through the pain.

“Well,” Logan starts, his voice dropping into a low hum. “I did just fall.” (for you)

Laughter came from just outside your dorm window.

You got up off your bed to peak past the blinds, watching a group of girls walk past in gorgeous skirts and dresses. They were the kind of girls that had legs for days, hair that just sat right with no amount of effort and the best skin you’d ever seen. The kind of girls with no blemishes.

You stepped away from the blinds and walked to stand in front of your mirror.

You’d gotten dressed in your nicest pair of jeans, a plain top and a cardigan over the top.

The anxiety in your chest built up when you really looked at yourself.

You thought back to the girls outside and compared yourself to them.

This was ridiculous. You weren’t dressed to go on a first date with Garrett Graham, and yet this was the nicest outfit in your wardrobe that you felt comfortable wearing.

You stepped closer to the mirror, taking note of all the small blemishes - the most obvious to you being the small hairs that lined your chin and your upper lip. Cursed PMOS.

Your gaze dropped down to the cropped top, noticing the gap between your jeans and top showing a small slither of skin. You pulled the top a little bit up to reveal the dark, coarse, hair that travelled down from your belly button, before sharply pulling the top back down.

What were you doing?

You couldn’t go on a date with Garrett Graham. You couldn’t go on a date, full stop.

You pulled up your phone and sent the text that you’d been drafting and re-drafting all night.

To Garrett: hey! so sorry this is on such short notice, but i don’t think i’m going to be able to make it tonight. hope that it doesn’t cause you any inconvenience?

The second after you sent it you threw your phone to the bed and immediately started undressing, all the while thinking about how excited you’d been when Garrett had asked you out.

You and Garrett were walking through campus after class.

“But if you really think about it, I should still be able to still pass the class—.” You stopped talking when you realised Garrett was no longer walking next to you.

He stood only a couple feet away, hands tucked into his pockets looking… Shy?

“You okay?” You walked up to him, looking up at him with worry in your eyes.

He smiled and nodded his head slightly. His movements were slow and soft.

“You sure?”

“I’m just thinking.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets to lock his arms across his chest.

“Oh nooo… That’s never good.”

Garrett smiled, looking away from you to try and compose himself.

He looked back at you with a nervous smile, “I have a question.”

“Okay.” You nodded encouragingly.

“I..” He let out a nervous laugh, “Would… Fuck.”

“Hey. You don’t have to ask or tell me anything you’re not ready to.” You put your hand on his arm so you could give it a reassuring squeeze.

You could see the nerves disappear from Garrett then. In fact, his whole body relaxed. He caught your hand with his before you could remove yours, holding it tight like an anchor.

“I wanted to know whether I could ask you out?”

His nervous smile returned briefly, before softening again when he watched your entire disposition light up.

There was no way this was happening.

“On a date?” You asked quietly.

“Yeah.” He chuckled.

“You’d like to take me out on a date?”

Garrett found it endearing that you felt the need to check again, but in your defence the question had literally appeared out of nowhere.

“Yes. Please.”

“Okay.”

It had been such an easy decision in agreeing to go on a date with him.

Now it just felt like the most stupid thing.

You stood in front of the mirror again, this time in only your underwear, trying not to cry.

Your hands smoothed over your stomach and your hips.

You looked over every inch of your body, from your thighs to your hips, belly to your chest, and all the way up to your face.

It was only when you got to looking at your face that you noticed the tears beginning to fall.

“Fuck.” You swore to yourself, feeling both insecure and pathetic.

Enough was enough.

You didn’t want to be that girl that stared in the mirror and hated what you saw, but some days it was just all too much.

Your mind was such a frustrating place to be.

The wardrobe door rattled as you roughly opened it, pulling out a large Briar U shirt that you knew would hide everything you were too ashamed to look at today.

The next time you looked in the mirror your body was now shapeless - hidden by all the oversized clothing you’d thrown on.

You took a deep breath.

You were okay. It was just a bad day.

Half an hour later, sitting in bed and twenty minutes into your comfort movie, there was an urgent knock at your door.

You hesitated at first, considering no one ever came knocking, but when the knocking continued you padded out of bed to see the commotion.

“Garrett…” Your face probably was probably showing the same level of shock as your voice.

“Are you okay?” He asked urgently.

“Am… Are you panting?”

Garrett’s hair looked wet and tousled no doubt from a shower. Don’t think about Garrett Graham in the shower.

He was slightly out of breath and had a crazed look to his eyes, like he was a man on the run.

“I tried calling and texting.”

“My phone was off.”

Garrett stepped forwards, his hands reaching out to maybe cup your cheeks but stopped when you stepped back. You looked down at the distance between your feet, having lost all bravery to look at him directly.

“Y/N…”

“Please don’t,” You sniffled and held up your hand, “I’m going to cry if you come any closer.”

Garrett quietly crossed the threshold of your dorm and shut the door behind him. Clearly this was a conversation meant for just the two of you, and he knew there were a bunch of busybodies in your dorm corridor.

“Garrett, please.” You walked away, blowing out a deep breath through your mouth.

“If I’ve done anything…”

“You haven’t.” You quickly shut that thought down for him.

Garrett wasn’t an insecure guy, but he did have a more tender heart than people realised. You were lucky enough to know that his compassion for others stemmed from his dad, which is why you were so eager to shut down any bad thoughts he had about himself.

Even with your back turned, you could tell he hadn’t moved from the spot in front of your door.

That was Garrett all over.

He was always respectful with you. Always letting you lead and giving you anything you needed first.

“Garrett… I-I can’t do this.” Your voice didn’t sound confident.

“Do what?”

“This. Us. I…” Your breathing started getting heavier and out of sync as you tried to find a reason. Your mind felt like soup and nothing was processing like you wanted it to. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no. C’mon.” His shoes were heavy on the floor as he closed the distance between you, “Can I give you a hug?”

You nodded and his arms were instantly around you.

He spun you around in the hug so your face could bury itself into his chest. His arms were strong, like pillars holding you up.

The comfort of being held by him was enough for you to break down. Your body wracked with sobs as he held you close, your hands fisting his sweatshirt like a lifeline.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered.

Your body felt heavy. The emotional weight of the evening had taken its toll on you, and if Garrett weren’t here you didn’t know how you’d keep yourself afloat.

“I-I c-an’t…”

“Just breathe.”

Garrett continued to speak in soft tones to you as he tried to calm you down.

His hand rubbed small circles over your back. The motion was calming enough, alongside his talking, to bring your breathing back to normal. A few hiccup tears slipped out, but after a few minutes of letting it all out you felt like you had nothing left to give.

Your head wriggled out of the depths of Garrett’s chest. Garrett moved his head so you could, already looking down to check on you.

“God, this is so embarrassing.” You laughed through an empty sob.

Garrett shook his head, “No it’s not.”

“You have snot on your sweatshirt.”

“Thank you.” He said proudly, earning a smile from you. That felt like the biggest achievement of Garrett’s day. Now the job was to keep you smiling.

You moved completely out of Garrett’s hold so you could slip down onto the floor back against your bed. Your legs bunched close to your chest and your arms wrapped around them to contain yourself.

Garrett didn’t hesitate in sinking down next to you.

He kept his hands to himself, even though you could tell he was twitching to hold onto some part of you.

Garrett felt like he won the moment you tilted your head onto his shoulder. His head tilted down to lean on top of yours.

“Is that a picture of Dean dressed as a ballerina?” Garrett asked, staring at the corkboard hanging over your desk.

You laughed, your throat still a little broken from crying, “Yeah.”

“When was that? And why wasn’t I there?”

“I don’t even know. He gifted it to me once and told me I had to hang in pride of place.”

“He’s so weird.” Garrett laughed and you laughed with him.

The next couple of minutes were quiet.

Garrett was no doubt looking at your endless amounts of trinkets and photos in your room, that had probably all changed since the last time he’d been here.

“You’re not pushing me to talk.” You said.

“No.”

“Why?”

“You’ll talk to me when you’re ready.”

You bit your lip to contain a new round of tears. “Thank you.”

A loud ping echoed through the room. “Excuse me.”

Garrett took out his phone, not hiding it from you. You watched on as his phone lit up.

The photo on his lockscreen was one he had taken of you skating away from him in his ice hockey jersey. It was taken moments before your legs decided to stop working, and Garrett had to quickly skate over to you to keep you upright. You smiled at the memory.

There was a notification on his screen from Logan.

Logan: Is Y/N okay?

“I might have panicked.” Garrett said before you could ask what Logan meant.

“How so?”

“When you texted saying we weren’t doing our date, I thought the worst. I was worried that you might’ve been sick and then I started thinking about you maybe getting cold feet. Logan caught be pacing about it. Instead of panicking with me, he hit me over the head with a tea towel and told me to get over here.”

You laughed, unwrapping your arms from around your legs to wrap around Garrett’s closest arm to you. Your head stayed resting on his shoulder.

“A tea towel?”

“It fucking hurt.” Garrett laughed.

“It’s sweet how you guys have got each other’s backs.”

“Yeah. I’m lucky to have them.”

Garrett closed the notification after responding with a quick ‘yes’. Even though both of you weren’t sure if that were true, at least it wouldn’t keep Logan guessing.

He switched his phone off and put it on the floor, his hand then coming up to settle on top of yours.

You couldn’t help the small smile slip onto your face when his skin touched yours. It felt stupid to say there was a spark when his fingers wrapped over yours, but that’s genuinely how it felt.

“Me cancelling this evening had nothing to do with you. I just freaked myself out, because I don’t really understand why you asked me out.”

“Because I like you.” Garrett said without hesitation.

“No, but…”

“There’s no buts, Y/N. None.” Garrett sat up, your head losing the cushion of his shoulder. His hands stayed enclosed on yours, but he made sure that he could see you.

“Garrett, just… Listen a minute, please?”

“Okay.” He nodded.

You twisted your body to sit facing him.

This conversation was best to have like ripping off a bandaid. There was nothing good about leaving it to sit and fester. It wouldn’t do you any good to shoulder this alone forever, and if there was one person you trusted enough to let in it was Garrett.

“I don’t really like the way I look.” Garrett shifted, his entire body readying to launch. Before he could say anything you shook your head, “Just listen.”

“Okay.”

“I.. I have PMOS. It’s a reproductive health condition which impacts my entire metabolic system and it sucks. It means irregular periods. It means weight gain that I can’t control. And,” You blew out a shaky breath, “It means I get an increase in hair growth across my body. So, my face, my stomach, my legs and inner thighs… You get it. Every time I look at myself I hate myself a little more. A-and this evening, I looked in the mirror and couldn’t see myself as someone worthy of dating you.”

You expected Garrett to not know what to say - maybe even say nothing. It was a lot to dump on someone and expect them to know exactly what to say.

So he surprised you when he spoke immediately after letting you finish, like he’d been waiting for the opportunity all.

“You know what I was worried about tonight?” He moved closer to you, closing the already small space between you.

“What?”

“That you’d realise dating me was a mistake.” He let out a self-deprecating laugh, “And yet here you are thinking exactly the same thing.”

“How could you possibly think—.”

“Well exactly, baby. I don’t understand how you could possibly not realise how much I like you. I’m constantly thinking about the next time I get to see you. In my head you’re already my girlfriend! Not one thing you just told me makes me like you less. I look at you and get nervous, because I’m so scared of screwing something up and fumbling the best person in my life.”

Your breathing laboured as you took in everything he had just said.

Garrett hadn't laughed. He hadn't looked uncomfortable. He hadn't tried to tell you that you were being ridiculous. He had listened and looked at you like nothing you’d said had changed the way he felt about you.

Sometimes it felt like you were being far too superficial about your appearance and then other times looking at yourself was the worst thing in the world. So hearing Garrett tell you he likes you regardless of everything was overwhelming.

You scrambled to detach yourself from him, moving to cup his cheeks instead.

Somehow you found the bravery to pull him close enough for a kiss, all for that to stop the moment his lips came within an inch of yours. You hesitated.

Were you allowed to kiss him? Is that something he wanted?

You got your answer seconds later when Garrett closed the rest of the distance between you, kissing you like he’d been waiting a long time to do it.

His hands rested on the back of your neck, keeping you close to him.

Your belly was uncontrollable with nerves as he continued to kiss you. And fuck was he a good kisser. His lips were wet and warm against yours.

The room had gotten hotter and your world had gotten smaller - the only thing worth focusing on being Garrett.

He pulled back to give you a chance to breathe, your lips making a soft smacking noise as he did. You didn’t like the distance he created, so you pulled him back again for another soft kiss. Garrett quickly took control, tilting his head to kiss you deeper.

The feeling in your belly changed to something hot and buzzing instead. The more he kissed you, the more confident you became and the nerves disappeared.

When he pulled back again, you didn’t immediately kiss him again. Garrett licked his lips, looking between yours and your eyes like he couldn’t decide what was more important to focus on.

“I like you a lot, in case that wasn’t clear.” Garrett said.

You let out a small laugh, “I like you too.”

“Good.” He kissed you once more, “Okay.”

“Okay what?”

You watched as Garrett stood up, holding out a hand for you to follow him up. You took his hand, holding back any swooning as he pulled you up easily.

“Date night.”

“Garrett…” You sighed.

“We’re not cancelling. We’re just moving it.”

“Where?”

A little while later, you were sitting on a blanket on your bedroom floor, a large pizza and cans of soda between you both.

Garrett had ordered the pizzas online and then had grabbed a bunch of rubbish chocolate from a nearby vending machine for dessert. It was kind of perfect.

It reminded you of your favourite scene from High School Musical 3 with Troy and Gabriella.

Garrett was reclined horizontally, propped up on his bicep, whilst you sat cross legged opposite him.

“You want the last slice?” Garrett asked.

You shook your head, “No thank you. Plus, I’ve seen the amount you eat daily… You need it more than me.”

“Agreed. I was just being a gentleman.”

“How noble of you.”

He grabbed the last slice of pizza and devoured it so fast it actually made your stomach hurt. Athletes and their food. You took a sip of your soda whilst he finished eating.

“So…”

“So…”

“Next date.” He raised an eyebrow, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Mhm.” You brought your legs up to rest your chin on your knees.

“Tell me what you’d like it to be.”

“Not ice skating, that’s for sure.” You tried to bury your face in your knees as you watched the offence slide across Garrett’s expression. “I’m just not good! I’ll end up in A&E.”

“Not if I hold your hand.” Garrett protested.

“Maybe five dates down the line, then.”

“Okay, deal.” Garrett smirked, no doubt excited by the prospect of getting to go on four more dates with you before then. “Next date though?”

“I don’t know. This one is pretty perfect.” You shrugged.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. All it’s missing is a sunset.”

“Okay, I can work with that.” He sat up and dusted the last of the crumbs off his fingers. “Sunset and pizzas.”

“And chocolate coated strawberries.”

"No."

Garrett said at the same time as you said, "Yes."

Just to prove his point, Garrett kissed you again. You swore you could hear Allie spew out an 'ugh' before walking away.

Your hand slid underneath the table to Garrett's thigh, squeezing it a little as he kissed you hard. Garrett licked his bottom lip as he pulled away, looking over your swollen-looking ones with a glint in his eye.

"I swear I've done nothing but kiss you today." You said, licking your own lips. Garrett looked eagerly at them as you did, but made no move to lean in.

You felt his arm move from cupping your neck to just draping over the back of the booth behind you.

"Sounds like a good birthday to me."

"Okay. No need to look so smug with yourself." You rolled your eyes and let your head fall onto his shoulder.

Garrett kissed your forehead, letting you rest neatly tucked up against him.

"Didn't even get a kiss from Dean this year." You pouted.

"Going to pretend I didn't just hear my girlfriend say that." He pretended to sound offended, but he knew what you meant.

Every year Dean has kissed you on the cheek for your birthday, because before your relationship with Garrett you were trying to make him jealous with the help of your best friend Dean. One night, at a house party, things came to a heat when you asked Dean to kiss you, informing him it was just to make Garrett jealous, and he barely made it to a kiss on your cheek before Garrett shoved him out of the way and kissed you instead.

"Can't believe it's been a whole two years since that house party."

"Still think you could have just talked to me, rather than try and kiss my best friend in front of me."

"Really? And what would I have said?" You picked your head up from his shoulder to look up at him, "'Oh hey Garrett. By the way, even though you could literally have any girl on this campus, of which six of them have already thrown themselves at you tonight, I think you should actually be with me.'"

"Baby, it was always gonna be you."

Before you could respond, Dean plated a round of shots on the table.

"Right. I've had enough of you two... Canoodling." Dean, already quite drunk, pointed between you and your boyfriend.

"Canoodling?" You laughed.

"Yeah, are you 85 years old?" Garrett teased, feeling accomplished when it earned another laugh from you.

"Fuck off, Graham." Dean snarled, "This is for the birthday girl." Dean handed you a shot at the same time Garrett took one for himself.

"Thanks, Dean."

"Happy motherfucking birthday, Y/N!"

The surrounding people cheered as Dean shouted.

You swung back the shot of what genuinely tasted like pure methanol, your whole body shivering to try and get rid of the awful taste in your mouth. Dean wasn't phased at all, but he was probably already five shots in.

"You didn't even bring a chaser?" Garrett asked, offended.

"You've got your girlfriend for that." Dean patted Garrett's shoulder before meandering off to the next willing participant of doing shots with him.

"He's so drunk."

"Yeah and you don't want to be kissed by a drunk-Dean."

"Oh really?" You raised your eyebrows at your boyfriends logic, "And what about a drunk-Garrett?"

"That, I think is acceptable."

Garrett leaned forwards, attempting to kiss you again. His arm curling tighter around your neck again to bring you as close as possible to him. No distance between you was the goal apparently.

"No! Absolutely not. Enough of this." Hannah's voice appeared before Garrett could fully commit to kissing you.

"What?" Garrett asked innocently.

"You've been hogging the birthday girl all day. Enough."

"Yeah, but she's my birthday girl. I have a right to hog." Garrett argued. Was it a red flag that your insides melted over that comment? Oh sue you - Garrett Graham can get away with saying anything when it comes to you.

"Um, I'm sat right here." You perked up.

"Yeah, yeah," Hannah brushed you off and crossed her arms over her chest to seem much - much - bigger than she was. "She's coming to dance with us. End of."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Again... Right here..."

Hannah gave a smug smile, clapped her hands twice and made Tucker and Logan appear from nowhere. They instantly grabbed onto Garrett's body, pulling him from the booth as best they could.

The move was not smooth at all.

In fact, you'd had to stop thanks to a short-circuit in your brain when Garrett's top accidentally lifted up to reveal a dark dusting of hair running down from his belly button.

Fuck.

"Quick, quick." Hannah brought you back to the moment.

You successfully shuffled out of the booth with a large protest from Garrett, who looked like someone had just stepped on his favourite toy.

You raised your hands in the air as Disturbia by Rihanna played loud throughout Malone's.

Hannah, Allie, Sabrina and Grace all cheered as they formed a little circle around you. Allie pretended to throw fake money at you as you swayed your hips from side-to-side, bringing your hands down your body.

You laughed as you held out your hand for Hannah to take. She twirled you around in a circle before you returned the gesture.

The girls closed the circle then, all of you joining to form one dancing pack.

Malone's was hot now, no doubt from the endless dancing.

Your neck was sweaty and you couldn't remember that last time that you had a drink.

"I'm going to get a drink." You told Grace, who you knew would pass on the information to the rest of them.

Dispersing from the group as the music changed to play Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! by ABBA, you took note of your boyfriend watching you from across the room with a sulk on his face. His expression brightened when he realised you weren't dancing anymore, but his interested visibly peaking more when you didn't come over to him.

"Vodka cranberry please!" You asked the bartender.

He nodded and got to work, whilst your body still danced to the music. Malone's was playing good music tonight.

Your breath hitched when you felt Garrett's hand snaked around the skin of your waist, beneath your top, to place on either side of your stomach. His front was pressed firmly against your back and you couldn't help but groan at the contact.

Your head rolled back onto his shoulder, eyes closed, as you continued to sway to the music. Surprisingly Garrett swayed along with you.

He didn't miss the opportunity to kiss your neck, earning a small laugh from you.

You thanked the bartender as he deposited the drink on the bar in front of you, Garrett subtly nodding his head to the guy as if to say 'put this drink on my tab'.

"You know," His voice was husky as he spoke close to your ear, "ABBA gets me."

"Oh yeah?"

Garrett’s fingers spread wider against your stomach. “Pretty sure this song is about how devastating it is when your girlfriend abandons you to go dance with her girl friends.”

"Hmm. I thought it was about a group of girl friends going out to find a good-looking man." You took a sip of your drink.

"Well lucky for you, you found me."

You rolled your eyes, though your mouth betrayed you with a smile.

"So humble."

"I try."

Garrett’s chin settled on your shoulder as the two of you swayed absentmindedly to the music. His fingers drummed lazily against your stomach, almost in time with the beat.

"You know," you said, turning slightly in Garrett’s arms, "most boyfriends would probably let their girlfriend dance with her friends on her birthday without acting like they’re being personally victimised."

Garrett gasped softly against your neck. "That’s crazy. Name one."

You laughed again and Garrett visibly brightened at the sound, like he physically couldn’t help it.

Just as you were about to fully turn around in Garrett's arms, Hannah appeared beside you both grabbing onto your arm.

"Photobooth! Now!"

"She's always at the scene of the crime." You heard Garrett sigh as you were once again pulled from him.

"Get over it," Hannah told him. "You’ve spent the entire night attached to her like a backpack."

"A very handsome backpack."

You looked over your shoulder just in time to catch Garrett watching you go with the same wounded expression from earlier.

Honestly, it was a little ridiculous how much your chest warmed at the sight.

Because Garrett Graham - campus hockey star - looked genuinely miserable every time someone stole you away from him for longer than five minutes.

The photobooth is far too small to fit all five of you and your friends in, but you somehow make it work.

You all pose with a bunch of stupid poses; kissing and squishing each other's cheeks, trying to create finger hearts with each other and just generally laughing so much that you were all worried you might pee yourselves.

Sabrina had recorded the entire time in the photobooth on her phone, which was going to be so funny to watch back later.

They all fell out of the photobooth one at a time. Grace and Sabrina decided they were going to get another round of drinks for everyone, whilst Allie and Hannah decided to the bathroom together.

You were looking at the photo strip that had been printed, when the curtain was pulled across the entrance again and you were being pinned back against the wall of the photobooth.

"You're never beating the backpack allegations, you know?" You teased as you smiled up at Garrett.

A little curl fell down over his forehead and you reached up to fix it instantly - almost like it was second nature at this point.

"Missed you."

"Missed you too." You replied, "Want to take some photos?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Come sit here." Garrett moved and patted his lap, already sat down on the small bench inside the photo booth. He pulled on your hand, forcing you to sit on top of his thighs.

You tried not to focus on how strong and sturdy they felt beneath you.

You settled comfortably sideways on his thighs, wrapping your arms around his shoulders so that you didn’t slide off.

Garrett made sure that his arms were firmly around your waist so he could keep you sat where he wanted.

It said ‘pay to start’ on the screen, you opened your phone to open up your bank app and caught sight of you lock screen.

It was a pretty picture of your boyfriend, sitting on a beach with an ice-cream. He was laughing at something you had said and as a result had gotten ice-cream on the tip of his nose. It had been one of your favourite days ever, so you just had to keep it as your lock screen.

“You changed your lock screen.” Garrett said.

“Yeah, I did.”

“What happened to the picture of us two?” He asked.

“Preferred this one of you.” 

Instead of saying anything to you, he leant in and gave you a few kisses on your neck whilst your phone payed for the machine to start working.

“Stop. You’ll give me a hickey for these photos.”

“And?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your smirk. Two seconds later you had to shove his face away as he started to kiss you in the same spot again.

The photobooth screen started to count down from five seconds and you positioned yourself better in front of the camera.

Garrett tightened his arms around your waist and brought you closer in to him.

The first photo was both of you just smiling into the camera. Your heads just laying on each other and squeezing each other tight, your smiles just showing how happy you both were.

The second photo Garrett looked at you so you turned to face him, his eyes sparkling at you with so much love. You rested one of your hands on his cheek and kept on looking at him as the photo clicked.

The third photo was entirely candid, after Garrett had made a joke. You laughed so loud you nearly fell backwards and it only made the entire situation funnier. The photo was captured of the both of you without you even noticing.

The last photo Garrett took the lead and kissed you.

"I love you." You whispered against his lips.

"I love you too." He mumbled against your lips.

Garrett stopped kissing you long enough to reach over your shoulder and grab the photo strips as they printed. You smiled instantly at the sight of them.

"Oh my god, the third one..."

Your laugh caught in your throat slightly as you looked closer.

In every single photo, Garrett was looking at you.

Even the first one. Even when you’d both been smiling at the camera, his eyes were tilted slightly toward your face instead.

"What?" Garrett asked softly, noticing you staring at the strip of photos intensely.

"Nothing."

His hands rubbed absently up and down your waist, "Tell me."

"You're not looking at the camera in any of these."

“Yeah.” Garrett’s smile went wide.

He noted the shocked expression on Hannah’s face.

Garrett rarely told people about you - not because he wanted to keep you a secret, but because he was just terrible at opening up to people about things like that. You were always encouraging him to be braver with his feelings.

“Since when?” Hannah leaned forwards with interest.

“Coming up to three years now.”

“I’m sorry… You’ve had a girlfriend for three years and I’m only just finding out now?”

“Well I didn’t know you three years ago, Wellsy.” Garrett countered.

Hannah let it slide. “Okay, whatever. Tell me everything about her.” 

When someone did finally know of your existence, that was one of Garrett’s favourite things to be asked. He could talk about you for hours, days, forever. He was a healthy amount obsessed with you.

Before Garrett could delve into the 101 reasons why you were his favourite person, Dean had to ruin the moment.

“Jheez, Wellsy, are you a witch? How’d you make G smile?” Dean patted Hannah on the back as he came over with Allie in tow. No doubt their game of badminton had gotten too argumentative to continue safely.

“I was just asking Garrett about…” Hannah cut herself short, realising that she didn’t even know your name.

“Y/N.” Garrett added for her.

Dean clicked his tongue and sighed like a man in love. “Ah, mom and dad.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Hannah laughed, looking between Garrett, Dean and Allie for some explanation. 

Allie sat on the arm of the chair that Hannah was sitting on, wrapping her arm around her best friend's shoulder. Dean sat on the same bench that Garrett was sitting on.

“Mom and dad.” Allie repeated, “Y/N and Garrett got the label because they are genuinely like the mom and dad of this group.”

“They’re always keeping us in check. They do the shopping for the house. Y/N actually cleans this place, God knows why. They’re just so mom and dad.”

“She sounds great.” Hannah smiled.

“She is.” Allie nodded.

“Agreed.” Dean added.

Garrett just sat there, quietly smiling to himself as he listened to some of the most important people in his life gush over the most important person. 

“So how come I’ve never met her?” Hannah asked.

“She’s spent the last year studying abroad.” Garrett said, frowning again when he realised that this whole conversation had started because he couldn’t get in contact with you. 

“That’s so cool. Where abouts?” 

“Uh, London– Sorry, I’m just going to–.”

Garrett got up and headed back inside, continuing to stare at his phone like it was personally wronging him.

Allie got up off the end of Hannah’s chair and moved to sit down next to Dean - who immediately pulled her close to his side. Hannah was so happy for her best friend finally being with someone who actually cared for her.

They smiled without looking at each other.

“What?” Hannah asked, wondering what was going on.

“Can you keep a secret, Wellsy, ‘cause we sure can’t.” 

“Yeah.”

Dean leaned forwards, double checking the back entrance to the house to make sure that Garrett wasn’t loitering close by. Hannah leaned forwards too.

“Y/N’s surprising Garrett. That’s why he hasn’t heard from her, because fuck knows she’d ruin the surprise if she opened her mouth.” 

Hannah’s eyes went wide and her jaw dropped.

“When? Today?” 

Allie checked her phone.

“Like, literally any minute.”

Hannah tried to control her excited smile as she leant back in her chair. Dean moved back too, raising his eyebrows to Hannah as if to silently say  ‘don’t say a word’. 

Logan and Tucker came over minutes later, saying the grill was all prepped and the food was ready to be cooked whenever everyone was ready. They were also in on the secret surprise, so were holding off on cooking until you arrived. 

Sabrina and Grace, along with a couple of other hockey guys, had also joined the group so everyone was sitting together, when Allie’s phone pinged. 

She opened the notification to see you’d texted to say you were outside. 

Allie widened her eyes at the group, all of them visibly lighting up with excitement. 

“Where’s G?” Logan asked.

“He went inside before.” Dean said.

“I think he was going to try and contact Y/N again.” Hannah added with a sad pout. She felt for the guy - especially when he had no clue that he was about to see you in a couple of minutes.

Allie stood up, telling everyone that she was going to go and get you. Everyone was in agreement that you should go and see Garrett first, so Tucker and Logan returned to the grill to start cooking in the meantime.

Allie wandered through the house, with no sign of Garrett anywhere.

She opened the front door quietly and silently screamed when she saw you.

You looked tired - no doubt from the long plane ride, lack of sleep and jet lag - but you also looked so happy to be back. You had a big Briar U hoodie on that was no doubt Garrett’s and a pair of navy jogging bottoms on.

You had a shit tonne of luggage bags surrounding you, which Allie would make Dean take in later. It was a mystery how you managed all these bags through the airport yourself.

Allie squeezed you in a tight hug, both of you trying to be as silent as possible.

She let you go, knowing you’d be eager to see Garrett.

You both had a silent conversation with hand gestures, which basically translated to you asking where Garrett was and letting Allie know that’s where you’d be going first. Allie rushed you off, not delaying your reunion any longer. 

You tried your best to be quiet up the stairs, the familiarity of the house hitting you all at once. Even the feel of your hand on the wooden bannister felt like coming home.

At the top of the stairs you felt a flurry of butterflies start up in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t tell whether you were nervous or excited to see Garrett. It was the anticipation that was causing the feeling, you decided. 

After texts and face-time calls, every day for the last year, it was hard to believe you were about to see him in real life again. It sounded weird to say, but it was true. The last year had been so great, but it had also been so hard living away from Garrett. 

If that made you clingy, then you’d wear that label with pride. So what?

Garrett’s door was closed over, but not shut entirely. 

You pushed the door open to find Garrett sat on the edge of his bed, crouched over with his phone in his hands. 

You knocked gently so as not to make him jump.

Garrett wiped his eyes, not so subtly, before sitting up to look at you.

His whole body sagged as he saw you standing in his bedroom doorway. He closed his eyes and let his body pull him back to lay back on his bed, legs grounding him to the floor. 

Tears started to fill your eyes as Garrett’s chest visibly moved up and down from crying. His hand went to cover his eyes, probably trying to comprehend whether this was a cruel trick or genuinely real. 

You didn’t wait any longer to move closer to him.

“Hey.” You laughed through your own tears. 

“Fuck.” Garrett sat up, taking you in. You watched the disbelief leave his teary eyes, as he fully understood you were right here with him.

He wasted no more time pulling you the rest of the way towards him - absolutely no distance between you allowed again - until you landed on his lap in an awkward straddle. Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly and his wrapped around your waist. 

Both of you sat there, lightly crying.

Your face buried into Garrett’s neck as you breathed in his familiar scent. That smell alone caused a few tears, because it was so nostalgic and homely to you. Garrett’s head rested just beside yours.

Neither of you said anything for what felt like the longest time, both more than happy to just sit silently in each other’s arms. 

“I thought something bad had happened.” Garrett mumbled.

You reluctantly pulled your head away from his neck, blinking away the remnants of tears as you pulled Garrett’s head up to see him. His eyes were red-rimmed and his dark circles were as dark as yours. 

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t text me for so long. I thought something bad had happened.” His eyes traced over every inch of your face, scanning every freckle to make sure they were all still there. 

“I wanted to surprise you.” 

“You did. If 24 hours of no contact is what it takes to be surprised, then, baby, I don’t want it.” He shook his head.

“Okay. Noted.” You brushed your thumb over his cheek back and forth. He melted into your touch, trying to get as physically close to you as possible.

“Can’t believe you’re here.”

“Can’t believe you haven’t kissed me yet.”

Garrett’s hands left your waist instantly to cup your cheeks and bring your lips directly to his, kissing you exactly how one would kiss their significant other after a year apart. The kiss was bruising, barely enough space to breathe between you. 

Garrett tilted your head with his hands so he could kiss you deeper, your hips involuntarily rocking over his. The small movement was enough for Garrett to break the kiss, though the distance between you barely existed.

Both of your chests were heaving and your breathing heavy. You leaned in closer with dazed eyes focused on his lips, kissing him again. This time was shorter and with more feeling, before you pulled away with a soft laugh.

“What?” Garrett asked, still holding you close.

“I missed you.”

Garrett smiled, “Yeah, baby. Me too.” He kissed you four times in a row, before breaking off from your lips to kiss your cheeks, nose, eyes and anywhere else he could. The sound of your laughter filled his room for the first time in a year as Garrett kept kissing you.

You forced yourself forwards to make Garrett fall backwards on the bed, because you knew it was the only way to stop him from kissing you for now. 

Garrett’s hair flopped around him on the bed, with a little curl falling over his forehead. His hands moved to place over your hips, whilst yours pressed into his bed either side of his head to keep you upright.  

“Can’t believe you’re here.” Garrett said.

“You’ve already said that. Have you developed temporary amnesia, baby?” You teased him.

“My brain hasn’t worked since you walked through the door.” 

Garrett’s hand tucked underneath the hoodie you were wearing, and traced up and down your bare skin. The featherlight touch made you smile and you rewarded him with another quick kiss. 

You moved to sit back up less than gracefully. Luckily Garrett’s arms were there to support you as he mirrored you to sit up as well. 

“How was your flight?” He asked, his eyes focused on you. No doubt he wouldn’t be letting you from his sight for the foreseeable future. He was going to attach himself to you like a limpet whether you liked it or not.

“Shall we go downstairs and see everyone so I don’t have to answer that question fifteen more times?”

Garrett grumbled and his eyebrows furrowed, “No.”

“No?”

“I want you to myself.” He said as his hands tightened their grip on your back. 

“Baby, don’t be mean.”

“I’m not being mean, I'm being selfish. There’s a difference.”

“Not a good difference.” You argued.

“Did the Brits teach you to be polite or something?”

You tried not to laugh at your boyfriend’s childish behaviour, because, honestly, some part of you understood what he was feeling. You got possessive when he left for a hockey game for just a weekend, let alone you having been gone a full year. 

Of course you wanted to just be with him too, but your friends were important to you too. They’d all kept close contact with you, always letting you know how Garrett was really doing and being there for him when he needed people around. You owed a lot to them all. 

“C’mon. You’ll get me all evening.” You compromised.

“You’ve finished over there?” 

“Yes,” You smiled, brushing a curl back off his forehead, “Finished last week.”

“So you’re here to stay?” 

“Baby, I’m back. I’m here for summer, then autumn, winter and spring. Then summer again and autumn…”

“Okay, okay,” Garrett cut you off, “Can we spend summer together?”

“I literally brought all my shit here with me, because I intend on moving in. You’re stuck with me.”