Mary🎀

Sleeping in the same bed as Garrett is like sleeping with a bear. He always ends up rolling to fit you to his chest, big arm slung over your waist. You proudly still sleep with your teddy bear, but sometimes he knocks it out of the way so he can hold your hand.

When you wake, he's making you sweat, hot pressed to your back. You try to wiggle out but he's heavy and his arms are iron bars.

Elbowing him, you whisper, "Garrett."

He exhales sharply, yawning into your hair. "Mm?"

"Trapped." You stretch your arms out.

"Hm." Garrett pauses, then rolls you over to lay on your back, settling himself on you like the world's heaviest weighted blanket. "This better?"

You shriek, pushing his shoulder. "You're hot!"

"I know!" he says just as loudly, grinning when you laugh.

Whining, you push his shoulder until he rolls off, elbow still crooked on your tummy. "I've been sweating all night."

He nudges his nose into your neck, curls tickling your chin. "You smell good." Sometimes your boyfriend sleeps in a t-shirt, but this is not one of those times. His skin is hot and sticky on yours.

Lifting your hand, you smooth a curl or two from his forehead. "Morning workout?"

"Nah. Rest day." Garrett's eyes are fixed on you, thumb rubbing up and down your side. "Let's go get breakfast. Get you a coffee and then come back to bed."

You lean your cheek on your hand, propped up on your elbow. "I have some homework still."

He pouts. "Why'd you have to do summer courses?"

"Why'd you have to do summer training?" You tap his nose. "We've got to keep busy, babe."

"Alright. Well, why don't we get coffee and a croissant or some shit and come back to bed and you can work on your essay?"

You pretend to think about it. "That'll work."

"Good." Garrett reels you in, nudging your nose with his. You oblige him with a kiss, but when you pull back he goes in for more. You pull the blanket over his head and sit up, stretching. He laughs. "You're not clingy."

"I'm an independent woman," you say, fluffing out your hair.

"Of course," he says dutifully. "But I wouldn't mind if you wanted to hold onto me a little more."

You lift your chin. "You mean it?"

"Yeah." Standing up, Garrett stretches, his shorts riding low on his hips. You sit up on your knees, eyeing him.

He moves to get a shirt from his drawer, but you exclaim, "Wait!"

"What?" Garrett comes back, stopping at the bed. You smile, walking to him on your knees, giggling when he raises his eyebrows.

"How strong are you?"

Flexing his arms, he says, "I think I'm pretty- oof!" You throw your arms around his shoulders mid-sentence, hooking your legs around his waist. He doesn't stumble, to his credit, but his hands fly underneath you. "Hi, baby."

"Is this what you wanted?" you ask, kissing under his jaw. "Attention?"

"I'm pretty happy with this." He slides one arm under you, walking to his drawer and pullling out a sweatshirt.

"How're you gonna put that on?"

"You're gonna help me." He adjusts you, giving you the sweatshirt. "Put it over my arm. I've got you."

Carefully, you slide the correct sleeve over his arm, tugging the top over his head. He shifts you to the other arm so he can poke his fist through the next sleeve. You pull the rest down his chest, and he gives you a kiss on the nose. "Thanks, baby."

"I'm still in pajamas," you say, moving to get down.

He frowns, holding on tighter. "I never get you like this."

"I'll have to get down once we get to the car anyways."

"We'll do a drive-thru order." Garrett pats your bottom. "C'mon, let me hold you a little longer."

You give in, laying your head on his shoulder. "I want a cookie too."

"Coming right up. Can you get my wallet for me, please? Thank you." He keeps one arm under you, using the other to open the door. "Let's get you some food."

You actually do like being carried by him, you decide as he walks you down the stairs, hardly out of breath. He opens the door to his jeep and tucks you in the passenger seat. You like seeing your pink keychain and phone in his console.

Garrett has your order memorized, so you sit back and enjoy the music. His taste has always been endearing to you, and he took note of your favorites of his favorites, compiling them into one playlist. You're humming Sex on Fire all the way home and up the stairs, even as you finish typing your essay.

He's sitting beside you in bed on his phone, arm around your waist. You pat his hand, leaning back to take a break. "You like touching me."

"Yeah. A lot." He leans in a little. "C'mere." You let him pull you onto his lap, sitting facing him. When you returned from your coffee run you swapped your pajamas for his Metallica shirt and a pair of shorts you left in his drawer. Garrett gives you a quick kiss. "You look cute."

"I'm in hibernation mode," you retort.

"You're in pretty mode." He hums when you smooth your palms over his hair. "Time for a break, baby."

You lean over to hit save on your essay and he shuts your laptop, making room for it on his bedside. Diving back into him, you slide your hands up his sweatshirt, warming them on his skin. "I never want to look at that again."

"I can arrange for that." He kisses your brow. "You tired?"

"Physically, no. Mentally, yes." You lean into him and he rocks you back and forth.

"I think we should go downstairs and binge a show. Make popcorn." Garrett rests his cheek on your head. "It's not that often we get a day off together."

You nod, sitting up to look into his eyes. "Yeah. You're right."

"You need a day off, baby. Your brain's a muscle and if you exercise it too much it'll get hurt." He cups your cheek. "You work so hard."

Shrugging, you shift on his legs to press your cheek to his shoulder. "I guess."

"Yeah you do, sweetie." He kisses your head. "What show do you wanna watch?"

Garrett holds your hand all the way down the stairs, touching your waist in the kitchen and talking in that low, gentle voice he uses when he's being really lovey. He's warm when you snuggle up to him on the couch, but this time you don't mind, sinking into his arms and letting him press a palm under your shirt against your back.

The girl he grew up with. Of course, he knew you. 

He couldn’t even remember the number of times you two would go off and explore an arena wherever the Rangers were playing. Even when someone would catch the pair of you somewhere you probably shouldn’t have been, no one could ever say anything against the pout that you would pull out when you were kids. It helped that you were the Rangers’ head coach’s granddaughter. 

Your families have been connected since before both of you were born. His father met yours when he first made the team at 18. Your father was 20 and determined to prove that he deserved to be on the team, not just because his father was the coach. Both felt like they had something to prove and became a fierce pair on the ice. 

Your mothers bonded quickly when they were first introduced. It wasn’t easy with husbands who were always in the limelight. 

They marveled when they found out they were pregnant around the same time. Garrett was born exactly one month before you. Which was something you never heard the end of during your childhood. He would always claim that it was his job to make sure you were safe.

They would always gush when you two were together as children. Garrett was always trailing behind or beside you like a protector, and he was always the first one to help you up when you stumbled over your feet. Sometimes, it felt like he knew you better than he knew himself. 

Garrett remembered all the family vacations that you guys shared. The way that his father would put on an act and pretend that they were this picture-perfect family, but you didn’t buy it. 

You’ve hated Phil Graham from the moment you overheard an argument between Garrett’s parents when you were 8 years old. You were staying over for a couple of days as your parents were away traveling. Garrett had begged you to ask your parents if you could just stay with his family instead of staying with your grandparents. 

It didn’t take much convincing for your parents to let you stay with the Graham family. Granted, they didn’t know what happened behind closed doors.  

A memory flashed in Garrett’s mind of the first Halloween without his mom and the first time his father laid hands on him.

“Gare, you don’t have to be brave with me.” You were inspecting his bloodied knuckles. The first aid kit sat next to you on the bed. “This is going to burn a bit.”

“Petal, just do it already.” he tried to squirm away, but you kept a firm grip of his hand in your lap.

Garrett redirected his focus from the pain to you. He watched as you took care of his hand, making sure it was clean before putting ointment over the split knuckles and wrapping it with such care. He looked at you like you were the only thing that brought light to his life. 

“Okay, all done,” you muttered quietly while you started putting all the stuff from the kit away. You walked over to his closet to put it back in the corner where you first stashed it when you saw bruises on his mother’s wrists years ago.  

“I hate him.” 

“I know you do.”

“He’s a monster. He’s cruel. He never treated my mom right, even before she got sick. He’s always been so mean,” Garrett sniffled. He looked down at his wrapped hand and clenched his other fist tightly. “I never want to be like him.”

His words caught your attention, and you sat back over to him. You took his hands in yours and brought them close to your heart. “You, Garrett, are nothing like your father. You are nothing but kind and caring. You always look out for me even when you don’t need to. You are so special, and I never want you to think otherwise.” You told him with fierce invigoration.

Even at 12 years old, Garrett knew then that he would never love someone as much as he loved you at that moment. 

“G? You all good there?” Logan snapped his fingers in front of Garrett’s face, hoping to pull him out of his daze.

Garrett shook his head slightly as if to clear the thoughts that scrambled through his mind about you. “Sorry, what’d you say?” His eyes flickered over to Logan, but he still seemed distracted. 

“I was telling you about that girl. I heard from a couple of the guys that it hasn’t even been confirmed that she’s transferred officially.” Logan explained to him.

Garrett let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. That news made him feel better that it was just rumors. His chest felt tight at the thought that you wouldn’t share such big information with him. Especially considering he last talked to you a week ago, and you didn’t mention anything about the possibility of transferring to Briar U.

“Hey, G? Do you know her? With your dad being a former Ranger,” Tucker speculated, making his way over to the kitchen to grab a beer. “Maybe a connection?”

Dean joined the rest of the group. “If you do, can you put in a good word for me?” 

“Not a chance,” Garrett snorted. “I’m leaving this conversation.” He started to walk away from the boys and headed for the stairs. 

“G? You didn’t answer the question!” Garrett heard Tucker yell out from the kitchen. Ignoring him, Garrett made quick work of taking out his phone and pulling up your contact.

His thumb hovered above the call button until he got to his room and closed the door behind him.

“Hey, bub! What’s up?” you answered. Just from hearing your voice, Garrett’s body relaxed. He felt the tension that he held in his shoulders melting away while listening to you. “I actually have some news for you!” 

Garrett shook his head. He flopped back against his bed, softly laughing to himself, “Just wanted to talk to you.”

“Love, we just talked last week. Did something happen?” The concern in your voice was obvious. “You know you can call me anytime, right? No matter what.”

“I know, Petal.” A warm smile crept onto Garrett’s face. “Is it a crime to just want to hear your voice?”

“You’re such a sap.” Your laugh came through the phone, and Garrett almost forgot the reason why he called you. 

“You said you had something to share with me?” Garrett turned the conversation back to you.

“You know how I’ve been telling you I want a change of pace? I feel stuck here, and I love my family, but I need some space to breathe without someone asking me for Rangers tickets or if I’ve ever wanted to hook up with any of them,” you rambled, beating around the bush of the actual news. “I just want to feel like I’m on my own for once. Wow, I sound entitled. I am so sorry for that–”

“Don’t apologize. I’m always here to listen to you.” Garrett cut you off, knowing that if he didn’t, you would continue apologizing for something you never had to be sorry for. “And I get it. Trust me, I do.”

“I miss you, Garrett.” You admitted it so softly that he almost missed it. 

“I miss you, Petal.”

“You’ll be sick of me when I transfer to Briar U.” You snuck the surprise in. “I’m serious, you’re never going to get a moment alone again.”

The moment he comprehended what you said, he couldn’t stop his smile from widening. “Petal, don’t play with my heart like that if you’re not serious.”

“Garrett Graham, did you hear what I just said? I am serious.” You mockingly defended your words. “Love, I mean this. I already submitted the paperwork. I’m waiting on my credits to transfer over, so I can get my new schedule.”

“When will you be here?” The urgency in Garrett’s voice and the question got a giggle out of you. 

“Maybe a week or two. I’m still trying to solidify my official housing situation. They offered me a suite on campus, but I’m considering looking for a place off campus,” you explained the small conundrum. “Gramps said he would pitch in if I find a place because he says that he knows the ‘kind of boys that could live on the same floor’ as me. Which is verbatim to what he said, by the way,” you laughed to yourself, thinking back to the conversation with your grandfather.

“I one hundred percent agree with Gramps. Don’t even worry about finding a place. Just stay with me, Petal,” Garrett offered without a single thought or hesitation. “I’d know you’re safe. Gramps would feel better knowing that you’ve got four giant hockey players to protect you. Your dad might not be the biggest fan of it cause he hasn’t met the other guys, but he’ll trust me with you.” Garrett was reasoning with you.

“Love, I couldn’t intrude on you or the rest of your housemates. This is a big thing, and I’m a big girl. I can figure this out…” You trailed off. You had to admit to yourself that what Garrett offered sounded nice. From your search, most places close to campus were already filled since it was midway through a semester. You saw a few that caught your eye, but the drive was 25 minutes away from campus.

“Petal, this isn’t up for discussion.”

“Yes, it is. Especially considering I’m almost positive that when you were moving in, you told me that there were only four rooms.”

“I’ve got the master bedroom, Petal. It’s plenty of room for you and me. There’s an ensuite bathroom. Honestly, it’d just be how it was when we were little and used to go on vacation,” Garrett countered you. “Baby, please just stay with me.”

The softness of his voice almost made you cave at the spot. “You have to ask your housemates.”

“Done. They won’t have a problem with it.”

“You ask them now, Garrett. Go downstairs and throw the idea out there for them. Keep me on call, so I can hear their reactions,” you instructed him.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Garrett shot out of bed and headed for the door. “Boys! I got a question for you!” Garrett yelled out to them, hoping they could hear him over the TV blasting the sounds from their video game.

“Bub, that was straight in my ear,” you pointed out, reminding him you were still right next to the speaker.

“Oh shit, sorry, Petal,” Garrett muttered as he hurried down the stairs. 

Dean was the only one to catch what Garrett had said. He pointed it out to Logan. “Petal?” 

Logan looked up from the screen. He twisted his head to glance at Garrett. “What’s up, G?” 

“Who are you talking to?” Dean quipped at the same time as Logan.

The exchange took Tucker out of the game and left him watching the people around him. He muted the TV, leaving the house quiet. 

Garrett’s posture gave away his nervousness about finally bringing you up to them. He never purposely tried to avoid any topics that could relate to you, but that also meant he chose to never bring it up. He got enough questioning about his ‘legendary’ dad and what it must have been like to grow up in that environment. That’s all anyone ever cared about anyway. 

“The granddaughter you were asking about?” Garrett answered, hoping his tone was enough to signal to them to be cool about it. 

“What do you mean ‘the granddaughter,’ G?” Logan questioned. His eyes widened by the moment. 

“How do you guys feel about getting another roommate?” Garrett blurted out. He never thought it would be nerve-wracking to mention you to the guys. He felt like he had to share a part of you that he only ever wanted to keep to himself.

“We only have four bedrooms,” Dean pointed out the obvious. 

Tucker gave him an up slap against the back of his head, “He knows that, dingus.”

Garrett ran a hand through his hair as he scanned the guys for their reactions. “What’d they say, Bub?” You weren’t even on speakerphone, but it was loud enough in the silent house that the others could hear you clearly. 

“You’ve known who I was talking about this whole time? You just pretended to be stupid or something?” Logan's thoughts gathered quickly to make the connections. “Let me sound like some idiot going on about it.”

“Yeah. She’s transferring from Columbia.” Garrett swept over Logan’s realization. 

“G, I don’t know any girl that would want four guys as their roommates,” Tucker claimed, because it seemed laughable that a girl would ever want to live with guys who eat, breathe, sleep hockey. 

“She’ll be fine. I’m not asking you to give up any of your rooms. Mine will be fine. I don’t want her to be in the dorms. You know how the guys over there are. I’d feel better knowing she’d be close,” Garrett explained with a rare softness in him that no one ever really heard other than you.

“She’d be more than close,” Dean muttered under his breath. Logan nudged him in the side with his elbow. 

“Are you sure she even wants to move in?” Logan asked him honestly. 

“Gare, put me on speaker, please?” You requested politely. Garrett abided and shoved the phone more in the guys’ direction. “Can they hear me?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” All three of the guys affirmed for her. 

“Unbelievable.” Garrett guffawed at the three in front of him. 

“Garrett’s just being overdramatic about this. I don’t want to force myself into your guys’ space–”

“Petal.” Garrett cut you off with a tone that didn’t leave room for much argument.

“Love, you can’t just ask them something like that and expect them to be completely okay with it.”

“Petal, I will call Gramps. Please don’t make this more complicated.”

“Garrett Graham! Don’t you dare!” You yelped on the phone. 

Garrett’s mind was only focused on the sound of your voice, as if the rest of the world melted away from him. Logan, Tucker, and Dean all raised eyebrows at each other because of the pair of you. They had never heard Garrett be like that with a girl. Hell, they never saw him interact with many girls unless it was for a night, and they were always quick to leave. 

“Petal, all you have to do is say yes.” Garrett implored. 

“Would you guys be okay with it? If not, I’ll work something else out, don’t worry about me.” You asked them, uncertain about Garrett’s plea. 

“If you’re important to Garrett, you’re important to us. You’re welcome here anytime,” Tucker answered for the three. 

Dean raised a finger in the air to signal he was about to chime in. “Get ready for some serious game nights,” he joked.

Logan added, “What’s your drink of choice?”

“A cosmo,” you answered simply, with humor lacing your voice. 

“Bullshit, it’s always a strawberry mojito,” Garrett called out to counter.

“Besides the point,” you brushed off.

“Honey, we have to go attend the fundraiser.” Your dad’s call from the hallway broke you away from the conversation. He knocked against your door softly.

“Come in,” you told him.

 “You talking to someone, Sweetie?” He said from the door. 

“Just Gare, Dad,” you announced to him as he started to enter your room. 

“Hey, son! I saw a clip from your last game, and you’re looking real good out there. With this one transferring over, I’m going to have to attend some games in person finally,” your dad happily spoke to Garrett. Who had made his way to the kitchen and placed his phone on the counter while he searched for a drink. 

The other three scrambled from the couch to the counter to continue to listen to the phone call. All of them actively started to slowly get more and more geeked out at the mere presence of your dad’s voice. 

“Hey, Pop! Thanks, it’s been quite a season out there, but our next home game is in two weeks. Will you be in town?” 

“Yeah, I’ll get the lot to come out since it’ll be Petal’s first home game because she originally chose a school with no hockey!” Your dad bellowed out in a laugh. “We have to cheer for you while we can.”

“Gramps, still mad at me for Boston?” Garrett queried.

“Like Gramps could say mad at you, Bub,” you snorted. 

Logan, Dean, and Tucker were in utter disbelief at what they were witnessing. They had never seen Garrett at peace and content, talking to people on the phone. He was never like this when he was on the phone with his dad. 

They started to question the relationship that Garrett had with you and, presumably, the rest of your family. It was evident that he was close with your family, but it seemed deeper than that. A casualness that only came around when you were talking to family, but they assumed he was somehow also romantically linked to you. Maybe it was both, but the scene in front of them was creating bounds of confusion. 

“He’ll get over it once he sees you on ice,” your dad assured him. “Anyways, Garrett. Petal and I have to seriously head out now before the Missus has both of our heads.”

“It was good talking to you, Pop.”

“Bye, bub. I’ll let you know when I get back later. I love you!” 

“I love you too, Petal.” Garrett grinned to himself, and the boys officially thought they had lost the Garrett Graham that they knew. The call ended, and Garrett turned back to the boys. “You shitheads are actually okay with this, right?” 

And just like that, Garrett Graham was back the way they knew him to be. “G, what the hell was that?” Logan was baffled.

“The former Rangers’ head coach is going to attend our next game,” Dean said in a daze.

“You gotta tell us what’s going on, man,” Tucker said, exasperated by no explanation. 

It was clear that Garrett didn’t even know where to start. His mouth opened and closed exactly three times before he even let anything out. “What do you guys want to know?” He thought it was a great question to gauge where the guys’ heads were at. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been with her this whole time, and you’re still with bunnies,” Logan chastised him. “That’s not cool, man.”

“No. No, we’re not dating,” Garrett responded, putting his hands up to somehow show his innocence. “We grew up together.”

“No way there’s nothing there, G,” Tucker protested. 

“So you wouldn’t mind?” Dean gave Garrett a look that explained what he had meant.

“Dean, you’re not getting with her. Don’t even think about trying anything,” Garrett warned. 

“Oh, you’re in love with her.” Logan snapped his fingers at Garrett.

“Dude, I thought we already knew that,” Tucker said to Logan.

“Wait, how is it going to work with her moving in here? This is not exactly a five-star hotel.” Dean gestured to the slight mess around them. While it was cluttered, the house wasn’t too bad at its current state. It looked lived in. “I mean, if you’re not dating her, but she’s going to share your room with you. I’m just trying to understand this, man. Because that means no more bunnies for you like ever.”

“There’s not going to be another bunny,” Garrett said as if it were the most simple thing.

“He’s a changed man, Dean,” Tucker whooped as he made his way over to Garrett and gave him a good slap on the shoulder. “G, this girl means a lot to you, and if you want her to live here. We’re seriously cool about it.”

“Thanks, Tuck.”

After much discussion, your family thought it was best if you had a week to settle in. Since you weren’t moving into your own place, you didn’t need to bring much other than clothes and necessities. You and Garrett had talked about what he had and what you still needed to buy, but agreed that you could just go shopping together rather than getting anything beforehand. Everything you needed to bring was able to fit in your G-Wagon. 

While you didn’t officially start until next Monday, you were finally at Briar to pick up your schedule and really take in the new campus without the rush of trying to figure out where your classes were. 

It was Friday, and students were still scattered around campus for those who still had classes. You were walking around aimlessly, trying to find a cafe that Garrett recommended that you might like. 

Meanwhile, the guys were finishing grabbing lunch on campus after their practice. They headed out of the dining hall together. Garrett was looking down at his phone as he checked your location, knowing you would be at Briar already. 

Garrett cocked his head to the side because, according to the phone, you were in his vicinity. “Holy shit, look at her. She’s like an angel,” Dean guffawed as he stopped the guys in their tracks. 

“She’s beautiful,” Logan commented.

“Out of your league, dude,” Tucker added on.

Garrett tilted his head back up to see what Dean was going on about. There you were, about 20 feet away. He had half a mind to tell Dean off, but he agreed with him. 

You hadn’t noticed the group staring at you. They watched as you pulled your phone out as if you were making a call. You held the phone to your ear while still looking around, but not fully catching the four boys.

Garrett’s phone rang in his hand, the other three’s heads snapped to look at his phone. He accepted the call. “Hey, Petal.”

“Bub, I think I’m lost,” you told him.

“You look so cute, though. Like a lost little duck,” he continued to admire you from afar. 

He watched the realization dawn on your face after his words. You scanned your surroundings and finally saw them. Your face lit up at the sight of Garrett. He did just the same when he saw you start to head in his direction. You hung up the call and slid your phone back into your purse. Garrett slid his to his pocket to free up his hands. 

The three guys stayed back as Garrett walked to meet you. They watched as your grin spread across your face. It was so bright that it could make anyone melt if they knew it was directed at them. 

The sight of you starting to jog towards Garrett in pure joy was something to behold. You met each other halfway and practically crashed into one another. His arms wrapped around your waist automatically. Your arms locked around his neck. Neither of you was particularly interested in letting go. 

“You’re actually here,” Garrett mumbled into your hair. His grip tightened even as he pulled back to look at your face. His eyes crinkled at the corners from the way he was smiling in genuine delight. “I’m never letting you go anywhere without me again,” he chuckled as he picked you off your feet and spun you around.

Your laugh was blissful. Students flowed around you both while they pointed out Garrett and the ‘mystery girl’ he was with. But in the moment between you and Garrett, all of them were forgotten, like the rest of the world. 

“Gare, let me down!” you yelped, laughing. Garrett missed that laugh. More than he’d realized.

Garrett set you back down, but you stayed in his arms. You reached up to fix a piece of hair that had fallen across his forehead. Without any hesitation. Without any thought. Like you had done it a thousand times before. Garrett didn’t even react. He was fully occupied by admiring you. 

Back to the Dean, Logan, and Tucker. The three guys nearly choked when they saw that. “I thought he said they aren’t dating?” Dean pointed to you two. “She fixed his hair.”

“I was not expecting them to run into each other’s arms,” Logan quipped.

“What is happening?” Dean was utterly confused by the scene in front of him. 

“I don’t know.” Logan shook his head. 

“I’ve never seen him smile that much.”

“Neither have I, Dean.”

“They have to be dating,” Dean declared.

“If they’re not now, I hate to see them when they are,” Tucker cackled, clapping his hands together. “C’mon, let’s introduce ourselves to our new roommate.”

You tore your eyes away from Garrett’s and glanced over to where the guys were. “Your friends?”

Garrett turned back and saw them walking toward you two. He sighed, “Unfortunately.” He watched as Dean cheesed and happily waved to you. “Oh, my God.” Dean was mortifyingly enthusiastic.

You broke an arm away to wave back. “Are they on something?”

“Worse.”

“Perfect.”

You dropped your arms down and attempted to pull away from Garrett to get ready to greet them. Which Garrett’s response was laughable. Instead, he moved to stand behind you and keep his arms around you. The guys caught how Garrett’s stare stayed on the side of your face. The kind of smile plastered on his face was something his friends had never seen before. It was warm. He looked hopelessly gone.

“Let me guess, the one leading the pack is Tucker, Dean is obviously the blond, which leaves Logan, who has that brooding brunette look to him.” You humored him. 

“The second they get over here and meet you. They’re never going to leave us alone,” Garrett said, exasperated. You laughed and moved one hand to lightly grip his forearm while you waited for the three to make their way over. 

“Can’t believe he waited a week before she transferred to tell us that he knows her,” You heard Dean tell the guys.

“Hey, you guys! Garrett, you remember we exist, right?” Logan greeted,d joking. 

Dean was the first one to offer you a hand. You moved your hand from Garrett’s arm and shook Dean’s waiting hand. “Hi, Angel.”

“Angel?” you whispered to Garrett in question as you pulled away from the handshake. 

Garrett just scoffed, but luckily Dean was there to explain, “You look like an Angel, unless I can call you Petal?” 

“You’re pushing it,” Garrett warned. Dean smirked and raised his hands to motion to back off. 

“Okay, but Angel, if things don’t work out with him, let me know. I’ll only be a few doors away.” Dean winked at you playfully, signalling he was really only saying it to mess with Garrett.

Garrett looked about a second away from committing a felony. You felt his arms tighten around you and pull you to press against him. Logan noticed and burst out laughing. You nearly choked. “You’re a fun one, Dean.”

“Call me Six Flags,” Dean nodded at you.

“I hate you,” Garrett told him.

“No, you don’t, Graham.” Dean smiled.

“Don’t mind him,” Tucker pushed Dean out of the way. “I’m Tucker, well, John, but Logan is also John,” Tucker introduced himself. He opened his arms slightly, and you tapped on Garrett’s arms to let you go. You giggled and accepted the hug. “We cleaned the house for you, Ma’am,” he whispered as you guys parted. 

“Oh, how very kind of you all,” you told him. 

Logan watched with a grin on his face that reflected genuine. Like he’d decided within the past few minutes that you belonged with them. “We’ve heard nothing but your name for the past week, and honestly, I’m just happy you’re here.”

Your expression softened. “That’s really sweet. And seriously, thanks for being so cool about this. I really appreciate you guys.”

“Any time, Angel,” Logan replied. Dean snorted at the use of the name.

“Not you too, Logan.” Garrett rubbed at his temples. He reached an arm out to you, and you naturally wrapped your arms around him. “Do you have everything with you already?” 

“Yeah, my car is packed to the brim right now,” you answered. “Are you guys done for the day?”

“We cleared the schedule, so we can help the Missus move in,” Dean claimed. 

“Perfect! Would any of you mind if you drove my car to the house?” You reached into your purse to grab your keys and dangled them in front of the guys. Dean nodded and opened the palm of his hand. “Thank you, kind sir,” you teased, dropping the keys into his waiting hand. “I parked it in the lot near admissions! It won’t be hard to miss.”

Dean finger-saluted you. “I’ll see you all at home?”

“Yeah, we’ll meet you back there.” Tucker motioned to himself and Logan before breaking away from the group with Dean.

“See you in a bit,” Garrett responded, waving goodbye to the three.

When Garrett pulled up to the house, it was bigger than you expected, but at the same time, it made complete sense for the four hockey players. 

Well.

Four college hockey players, and apparently you know. 

Even after Garrett had parked the car, you knew better than to try to just get out yourself. You waited patiently while Garrett rushed over to your side to open the passenger door and offer a hand to you.

With your hand laced with his, you guys made your way to the porch. The front door swung open. Dean stepped outside, twirling your car keys around one finger. “Your car is officially here.”

“My hero,” you pretended to gush. “Thanks, Dean.”

“No problem, Angel.”

Dean tossed the keys in your direction, but Garrett intercepted and caught them. He kept hold of them and pointed them to pop open the trunk. The movement was so familiar that neither of you really reacted. Unfortunately, Dean did, and so did Logan and Tucker, who were right behind him. 

Immediately. They exchanged a look. You pretended not to notice. Garrett definitely noticed. 

“Alright,” Garrett announced. “Let’s move this circus inside.”

You all turned to look at your car and the full trunk. Silence. You cleared your thoughts. “What?”

Logan pointed to the mountain of boxes. “You know you’re sharing a space with G, right?”

“We’ll make it work.” You shrugged. 

Tucker went to pick up one of the boxes, and he immediately regretted it. “What is in this?”

“Just books.”

“All of them?”

You nodded proudly, “I like reading.”

“Nobody likes reading that much,” Dean retorted.

You pulled your hand away from Garrett to snatch the box away from Tucker. “Give me my children.”

Garrett laughed, and the sound made you smile before you could stop yourself. “Come on,” he said, taking the box from your arms before you could protest. 

“Hey!” 

“No, Petal.”

“I can carry it,” you defended. 

“I know.” He said, heading into the house.

Instead of arguing, you sighed, picked up another box, and followed him inside. Dean, Logan, and Tucker were standing still, which, in passing, you told them, “I thought you guys were going to help?”  

“Yes, Ma’am.” The three all got a box of their own to carry in. 

The inside of the house was exactly what you expected. A little chaotic, but you could tell that they made an effort to tidy up the house for your arrival. It was comfortable. The kitchen looked surprisingly clean. 

“I’m a mean cook, Angel. Just you wait,” Tucker boasted before going up the stairs to drop off the box in Garrett’s room. Well, now your shared room. 

Any nerves that you had about transferring to Briar and moving in with the guys disappeared. This didn’t feel like walking into a house of strangers. It felt like walking into a place you’ve somehow already been a hundred times.

Maybe because Garrett was here, or that his friends welcomed you without hesitation. Everyone kept making room for you without even realizing they were doing it. 

By the time the second trip down to the car was made, you were already helping Dean and Logan make fun of Garrett’s habit of neatly folding laundry. 

By the third trip, Tucker is asking you what your favorite meal is, so he can try to make it. Then Logan explained the house’s completely unnecessary ranking system for takeout restaurants, and somehow you’re laughing through all of it. 

Dean placed the final box onto the floor. “Important question.”

“Which is?” you asked back while looking through a box full of shoes in dust bags. 

“You’re completely okay with just moving into his room,” Dean gestured around Garrett’s master bedroom.

“He offered,” you shrugged, “And it’s not like we haven’t shared rooms before. Growing up on summer vacations, our parents always figured that we would sneak into each other’s rooms anyway, so they just started putting us together by the time we were seven.”

“That clarification should’ve come when we first called last week,” Logan said. 

“I hate living here.” Garrett rubbed a hand over his face.

“No, you don’t, G,” Tucker mumbled. 

By midnight, only a few boxes were left to unpack, and you guys gathered in the living room for some late-night pizza. The kitchen light was off, the room was illuminated by the TV, and six pizza boxes had taken over the coffee table. 

Dean was on his fifth slice and in full interrogation mode. “Okay,” he said, pointing at you and Garrett. “We have questions,” he said, pointing to Logan, Tucker, and himself.

“Yup, we all do,” Logan added, leaning back against the couch.

Tucker nodded. “Especially because he’s acted weird for an entire week.”

“I haven’t acted weird,” Garrett tried to pass off. All three of the roommates stared at him.

You laughed into your drink. Garrett looked betrayed. 

Dean pointed dramatically, “First question: how long have you two known each other?”

You and Garrett answered at the same time, “Since birth.”

No response. 

“Literally?” Logan blinked. “He neglected to mention that he had a childhood best friend.”

“Literally,” you repeated. “Our moms were best friends before we were born.”

“How?” Dean gaped. 

“Buddy, I think you all know who our dads are.” You gently parented him. 

“And your grandfather?” Logan asked.

“Former head Rangers coach, as you guys know. Only stepped down after my dad retired from hockey,” you told him while reaching for another slice. Before you had to get up from your place next to Garrett, Tucker plopped another slice on your place. “Thanks, Tuck.”

“Who’s older?” Dean went.

You rolled your eyes at the question, knowing what was coming. 

“Me,” Garrett claimed proudly.

“By one month,” you scoffed. “You guys would never believe how many times he pulled that out in an argument.”

“I’m older,” Garrett dismissed.

“By thirty-one days.” You deadpanned. 

“Still older.”

“You brought it up constantly.”

“Because it’s true.”

Logan looked delighted. “This explains so much.”

“What does it explain?” Garrett questioned.

“Why you two act like a married couple.” Logan’s words had you choking on your drink. Garrett nearly did the same, but he was quick to rub your back in soothing motions. The action really didn’t help your case. Dean howled in laughter after catching it. Logan and Tucker snickered to themselves. 

After calming down, Dean moved on to his next question. “How have we never heard of you before?”

The room went a little quieter. Garrett mumbled, “You guys know I don’t really talk about home.”

No one pushed. They all knew that much.

The boys knew Garrett didn’t like interacting with his dad and that his mom had passed away when he was younger. What they didn’t know was that you had been there through it all. 

You nudged his knee with yours, and he glanced at you briefly. Just for a moment, but his shoulders loosened a little. 

“There was never a reason to bring me up. I was away in New York, and god knows that Columbia kept me busy enough to have any downtime,” you explained. “And you guys were always away when I would visit during the summer.”

“Wait, a damn minute.” Dean paused mid-bite. 

“What’d you just say?” Logan was taken aback.

“What do you mean by that?” Tucker probed. 

Garrett shook his head and poked you in the side. “They didn’t know that, Petal.”

“Well, now they do.” You finished the last bit of your slice and put your plate on the coffee table. You leaned back against the couch and tucked your feet under you. Garrett lifted his arm, and you scooted closer to his side.

His arm came behind your waist, and his hand landed on your hip. He tugged you to be snug against his side. 

“Now, a serious question,” Dean remarked, even though he felt like he was interrupting something. 

“Dangerous start.” Your laugh was airy, with tiredness starting to dawn on you.

“Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

“Straight for the kill,” Logan snorted. 

“Oh god,” Tucker mumbled into his drink.

“So help me, god.” You heard Garrett mutter under his breath. You turned your head to look at Garrett and found him already facing you. “We’re not answering that,” Garrett scoffed.

“There was a first time!” Dean gasped. 

“Everyone has a first time,” Garrett attempted to brush him off, but he replied too quickly to seem casual.

“That is not helping your case, G.” Logan chuckled.

Dean sat back, feeling victorious. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” you asked.

“That whatever this is–” Dean gestured between you and Garrett, “–has been happening for years.”

Garrett groaned. 

Tucker nodded thoughtfully. “Honestly, I’m just glad you finally showed up. He’s been unbearable this week.”

“I have not.”

You laughed again, and before you could think about stopping yourself, you leaned your head against Garrett’s shoulder. 

Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Because it was, and Garrett didn’t even hesitate before leaning back.

Dean, Logan, and Tucker exchanged identical looks like before. None of them said a word. They didn’t need to. The answer to every question was sitting right there on the couch for them to see. 

The next morning, you woke up to Dean banging against the bedroom door. The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds. You turned slightly and felt your cheek brushing against Garrett’s bare skin. The bed was a sight of tangled limbs and Garrett’s head tucked into the crook of your neck. 

The persistent knocking caused him to shift in his sleep, an arm instinctively tightening around you. 

“Gare, I cannot breathe.” You attempted to pull yourself away from his grasp.

“Baby, it’s too early,” Garrett murmured in your ear, not aware of the knocking yet.

“Guys, wake up, we want to go to breakfast!” Dean yelled from the other side of the door. 

“Dean, just come in,” you permitted him. 

The door creaked softly, and Dean entered the room with a hand covering his eyes. “Angel, are you guys decent?”

“You wish I wasn’t.” You chucked a pillow at him, which he annoyingly caught.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Garrett grumbled, realizing Dean was in the room. 

“The guys and I want to get breakfast at Malone’s, and Angel hasn’t been yet, so it’s perfect.” Dean begun. “We’re leaving in 30 minutes.”

“That sounds great. We’ll be ready,” you told him. 

“Okay, okay, now get out,” Garrett shooed Dean away. 

“Angel, you see what we’ve had to deal with?”

“Try dealing with him for your entire life,” you countered.

“You’re a strong woman.”

“The best. Now, seriously, man, out.” Garrett pointed an arm to the door. 

“Fine, but you guys better be downstairs soon!” Dean said as he shuffled out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Finally,” Garrett mumbled, tucking his head back into your neck.

“Bub, we have to get up.” You ran a hand through his hair. You felt him smile against your skin. “Come on, let me up,” your hand continuing to play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Baby, I haven’t woken up with you in my arms for months. You’re breaking my heart here.” Garrett expressed, trying to be serious, but the whisper of a smile played at the edges of his lips. 

“You are being dramatic.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Fortunate for me.” He pressed a kiss against your forehead and finally loosened his grasp around you. 

You rose from the bed and stretched. You looked out the window. “This is nice.”

“Yeah,” Garrett replied. You turned back to face him. 

You found him already staring at you. 

The drive to Malone’s was chatterful. Your car was chosen, but the designated driver was Garrett. You were seated in the passenger seat, holding Garrett’s hand in your lap. The backseat arrangement was laughable. Dean, Tucker, and Logan, in that order, were squeezed into your back seats, which you always felt like were spacious when driving with your friends. But with three hockey players in place, they were like a tin of sardines. 

When Garrett finally parked, Logan was the first out of the car and almost tripped over his own legs, with Tucker trying to push him to get out faster. 

Logan beat Garrett to opening your door. “Angel,” he said, a smirk pinching at his cheeks while he offered his hand to you. 

“You’re doing this on purpose.” You stifled a laugh as you peeked at Garrett, who was five steps short of your door. 

“Let me have this one?” Logan whispered. You took his hand and got out of the car. Rather than letting go of your hand, he wrapped your arms together and guided you to the entrance of Malone’s. “You are going to love this place, Angel.”

“Petal.”

You heard him say from behind you, turning back to look at him. “Yes, Gare?” 

Garrett Graham would never admit to pouting, but lo and behold, a sliver of a pout was edging his lips. “You’re just leaving me behind?” he gaped. Instead of responding, you let Logan lead you guys in. 

“Snubbed by your own girl, that’s got to be tough.” Dean clapped a hand on Garrett’s shoulder. 

“G, stop moping and let’s go. I’m hungry, man,” Tucker told him, heading in after you and Logan. 

Inside, you and Logan were waiting by a booth. Logan slid into one side, and you to the other. Tucker sat next to Logan. Dean dragged over a spare chair, spun it around backwards, and sat at the end of the booth. Garrett stopped at the edge of the booth. “Oh, now you want to be next to me?”

Ignoring his dramatics, you looked up from the menu. “What do you guys usually get?”

Garrett sighed pitifully. He slid next to you and snaked his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. You automatically put the menu in front of both of you. “You’ll like the berry waffles.”

“Sounds yummy.” You leaned your head against his shoulder.

“You’d think they didn’t wake up next to each other,” Dean teased. “Garrett, get a grip, dude.”

Even with the teasing, Logan, Tucker, and Dean enjoyed seeing Garrett like this. A kind of softness that he never really displayed to people besides you. The tenderness as he whispered to you as if no one else existed. The way the menu was shared, and Garrett was pointing out all the things he thought you would like to try at some point. 

A waitress came by with coffee. Without asking, Garrett reached over and slid a mug in front of him before adding two sugar packets. Then a splash of cream. He stirred it once before pushing it toward you. “There.”

“Thanks, baby.” You took a sip. “Perfect.” You pressed a kiss against his jaw. 

“You didn’t even watch him make it,” Logan commented.

“I don’t have to?” Your eyebrows pulled together, showing your slight confusion. 

“You just trusted whatever he put in it?”

“He’s made my coffee since I first started drinking coffee.”

Logan blinked. “They’ve killed me.”

“God, I forgot that you guys have been married for years,” Dean joked.

Tucker ignored the rest of the group and got to ordering. The rest of you followed suit. 

Around the diner, people had definitely started noticing. Mostly because four starting hockey players were difficult to ignore, especially when one of those players is the captain, Garrett Graham. What really stuck out was you, the unfamiliar girl who leaned into his side as if you belonged there.

Whispers bounced between tables. 

“Who is she?”

“Is that the new transfer girl people have been talking about?”

“How does she have Graham bringing her with the guys?”

“I thought he said he doesn’t do girlfriends.”

Two girls near the counter glanced over one too many times. One leaned toward the other. “I’ve literally never seen him with a girl before.”

“Maybe she’s his sister.”

You happened to laugh at something Garrett said, but the smile that was plastered across his face said it all. 

One of the girls frowned. “Definitely not his sister.”

Dean noticed before anyone else. Without turning around, he spoke just loudly enough for it to reach anyone sitting at the counter. “Man.” The others looked at him. “It’s amazing how people forget that minding their own business is free.”

“It’s ridiculous,” Tucker said bluntly. The whispering behind him immediately quieted. 

Logan casually leaned back in the booth. “It’s almost like we have our own lives.”

There was a softness that came over your features. It radiated such appreciative affection for such new, devoted friends. The guys defended you as if you were their own, without a second thought or hesitation. 

Dean caught your eye and winked at you. “We’ve got your back, Angel.”

“Always,” Logan added.

“You’ve got us for life, Angel,” Tucker finished.

“You guys are going to make me cry.” You teared up a bit, and your face flushed with heat at the gesture. Garrett rubbed at your side soothingly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Angel, we’re practically family already,” Logan reasoned, sending you a sweet smile.

“I am going to be the best uncle ever,” Tucker claimed, nodding his head. 

“But I get to be the Godfather,” Dean asserted in full seriousness, but the act dropped quickly with a grin spreading across his face. 

“We’ll play rock, paper, scissors for it.” Logan contended, waving a hand at Dean.

Garrett snorted, shifting the attention to him. “Unlikely,” he scoffed jokingly under his breath, but it wasn’t quiet enough for the guys not to catch it, and especially not for you. 

You pressed a hand against the one he had on your side. Your thumb rubbed circles against his knuckles. 

“Listen, buddy, we never said you had to be the dad,” Logan tutted at Garrett. 

You felt Garrett stiff beside you. “That’s not even funny, man.”

“Oh, this is gold.” Tucker snickered at Garrett’s obvious displeasure at the mere idea of you creating a life with someone else. 

“I’m fine.” You all caught on to Garrett’s voice and how defensive he sounded. 

Dean wasn’t ready to end Garrett’s suffering just yet. “You want blond babies, Angel?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “They’d be beautiful.”

Your whole body shook with laughter at Dean’s insinuation. You didn’t see Garrett’s face, but the guys did. The way his brow wrinkled into a deep frown.  His right eye twitched while he was glaring down at Dean. “Godfather, typically means you’d have to be alive for the role.” 

Dean paled slightly. Instead of replying, he took a long sip from his water, gulping awkwardly. 

Tucker had put his hand to muzzle his laugh that was threatening to spill out. 

Logan was suddenly very interested in a ketchup bottle. “These ingredients are so funny.”

The waitress came up to the table with breakfast, unaware of the scene she was walking into. “Hope you all enjoy,” she said, setting plates in front of each of you. She refilled your waters before finally walking away from the booth. 

Garrett’s frown dropped just like that. Before you could reach for the syrup, Garrett poured it perfectly on your waffles. You grabbed a piece of bacon off his plate. You took a bite of about half of it before you offered it up to Garrett’s mouth. He ate the rest without questioning.

Neither of you looked exactly at each other, but the way you moved with ease and avoided bumping into one another said it all. 

Neither of you broke the conversation either. Garrett asked if you liked the waffles. You nodded sweetly, taking another bite. He hummed, satisfied in response. It happened so naturally that it was obvious that neither of you even processed how you guys were. 

Across the table, Logan stared. 

Then at Tucker.

Then at Dean.

“I think we’ve been upgraded from roommates,” Logan muttered to the two.

“We’re just watching these two domesticate each other in real time.” Tucker looked a bit in awe at how evidently you both were in tune with one another. 

Dean nodded solemnly, “I think we’re witnessing a thirty-year marriage before the first date.” He took another bite of the pancakes. “They’re hopeless.”

You and Garrett looked over. “What?” you both asked at the same time.

The three roommates burst into laughter. You and Garrett looked at each other, and despite having no idea what was so funny. You both started laughing, too.

Della, from behind the counter, watched the way the five of you fit together. She had never seen the boys the way they are right at this moment. She immediately decided that you were a missing piece in a very chaotic puzzle of hockey players. You belonged at that table. 

Breakfast lingered long after the plates had been cleared. 

The conversation drifted from hockey to classes, then somehow to the time that Dean accidentally set the kitchen toaster on fire. “It was defective,” Dean insisted. 

“It exploded because you put a Pop-Tart in sideways,” Tucker replied. 

“That’s a design flaw.”

“More like user error.”

You laughed at the pair, shaking your head. You tapped against Garrett’s thigh. “I’ll be right back.”

“Bathroom?” Garrett slid out of the booth to let you out.

“Mhm.” He helped you out like a gentleman and kissed your hand before you walked away from the table. 

You did head toward the hallway for exactly seven steps. Then you quietly veered toward the register, looking over your shoulder, and the guys were busy talking about the next home game coming up in a week. 

The waitress looked up with a smile. “Everything okay, honey?”

“Perfect, actually.” You pulled out your card that you had sneaked into your pocket before you left earlier. “I’d like to pay for our table.”

She glanced toward the booth. “The hockey boys?”

“Yeah.” You smiled.

“They’re usually fighting over who pays.”

“I figured.” 

“You sure? Honey, I’m positive that none of those boys would want you to pay.”

You looked over your shoulder again. The four of them were full of laughter. Logan was dramatically reenacting whatever play he was retelling. Tucker looked like he regretted encouraging him. Dean was adding in parts that Logan was leaving out. And Garrett. He was watching the conversation with that quiet little smile he’d worn almost all morning. 

It tugged at something in your chest. “They’ve been really good to me.”

The waitress followed your gaze. “You’ve known them for a long time?” She wondered. 

“Just the one I was sitting next to.”

She rang up the bill. You tipped her generously when signing off the receipt. When she handed your copy, you tucked it into your pocket along with your card before anyone could notice. 

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, sweetie.”

When you returned, Dean looked up. “That was fast.”

“I think we’re ready to finish up here,” Tucker said. 

“I physically cannot move.” Dean leaned back and rubbed his stomach. 

“You had seven pancakes,” Logan reminded him. 

“I regret nothing.”

Garrett politely signalled for the waitress’s attention. She placed the check holder at the edge of the table. “Huh,” Garrett muttered when he reached for it. 

“What?” Logan asked. 

“It’s empty.” 

Dean frowned. “What do you mean it’s empty?”

“The bill.” 

“You guys already paid?” Tucker questioned. 

Garrett looked at the others. “I didn’t.”

“I was waiting for him,” Dean said, pointing to Garrett. 

“So was I,” Tucker admitted. 

The waitress walked by carrying another tray to pick up the empty plates off the table. “You boys are all set.”

Four heads turned. You busied yourself with applying some lip balm. “What?” 

Logan shook his head. 

“It was taken care of already.” The booth fell completely silent. 

Four pairs of eyes turned toward you. 

“Petal,” Garrett said. 

“No.” You stopped. 

“You paid?” He scoffed. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You absolutely paid,” Logan retorted. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Angel,” Dean said. 

“I didn’t do anything,” you shrugged. 

“Bullshit,” Garrett muttered. 

“Breakfast seemed like a pretty cheap way to say thank you for letting me into your lives so easily.”

The table was quiet for another moment. Then Dean stood up. “Oh.”

“What?” You glanced at him. Tucker and Logan slid out of the booth to stand as well. Garrett did the same. Your eyes flickered to each of them. They all shared a look and nodded. In a blink, you were bombarded by the four. They hugged, keeping you in the middle. “Guys, I can’t breathe.”

“Too late,” Logan mumbled.

“Petal, we don’t need that.”

You were holding up two different colored fluffy throw blankets. “Do you like the dark blue better or the gray?” ignoring Garrett’s statement. 

“You’re not going to use it, and it’ll end up on the floor.”

“I can use it in the living room.” You brushed him off. 

“Okay, fine, just get both. One for the living room and the other for the bed.” Garrett gave in.

You hummed to yourself triumphantly. “You see, that wasn’t so hard.” You brushed a faint kiss against the left side of his jawline before you put the blankets in the cart.

A husband who was in the same aisle with his wife had watched the short interaction between you and Garrett. He had a fond expression written across his face. “Son, happy wife, happy life.” He simply said before following his wife out of the aisle. 

“Are you planning a proposal I don’t know about yet?” You teased Garrett, grinning at him. Your faces were inches apart. 

Garrett brought a hand to your face with his thumb gently stroking your cheek. His face carried a relaxed smile. His gaze was locked into your eyes. “Not yet. But eventually.”

You wished his words would surprise you, but in reality, it was more of a confirmation than anything else. “I think we’re skipping a few steps.” You placed a hand on his chest, and you could feel the beating of his heart. 

“Like there would be anyone for me other than you,” Garrett murmured. 

You could tell he was holding himself back. The way he brought himself closer to you and tilted his face to yours. His pupils dilated, and you could feel his heartbeat start to quicken. “You know, for a second there, I thought you were finally going to do it.” 

“If I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

“Who said you had to?” 

His lips brushed against yours. It felt like he was trying to test the waters. Your hand slid from his chest to his jaw. The hand on your cheek pulled you in even closer, if that was possible. His lips smiled against yours. 

The gap finally closed. The way his lips parted against your own so gently. The kiss was chaste since you both were standing in a store. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He said, pulling away to look back into your dazed eyes. 

You pecked his lips again. “We never stood a chance.” 

“Against what?”

“Us.”

“It’s you and me forever, Petal.”

The next week breezed past you before you knew it. The transition to classes was easier than you were expecting. Another thing you thought was going to be difficult was you and Garrett, but really, other than stolen kisses in hidden hallways or late nights in the kitchen. The pair of you hardly had to change anything. 

Sure, Garrett was even more affectionate than usual, but it wasn’t overly done where the guys caught on to you two. It kind of felt fun keeping it between you and Garrett. Not that either of you meant to keep a secret. It just hadn’t come up, and anyone who had been around lately either assumed you were already dating or, like the guys, just got used to the fact that you and Garrett were suspiciously close.

Plenty of people on campus just thought that the new transfer student finally locked down the infamous Garrett Graham. Not many knew or cared to find out that you guys knew each other prior. No one found that you had moved in either, not that it was any of their business.

As much as you tried not to let it get to you, the puck bunnies were hard to ignore. Especially with the Briar Hawks having a home game soon, everyone was buzzing around you. From the guys’ endless practices and workout sessions to students’ nonstop chatter about the game and after-parties. 

Garrett was quick to assure you that the minute he found out that you were coming to Briar. He hadn’t even thought about another girl since. Not that mattered anyway. It wasn’t like you were a saint in New York. You had your fair share of dates that Garrett, over the years, pretended didn’t bother him when you would call him excitedly to prepare for one.

You could hold your own, but that didn’t stop the irk you would get overhearing the bunnies talk about “whatever” you and Garrett had would never last long before he got bored. 

You didn’t doubt your new relationship with Garrett. Even your mothers were rooting for you two to end up together, the second they found out about each other’s pregnancies. Garrett was yours just as much as you were his. It’s been like that since the two of you could walk. 

“Baby, I’ll see you and the family later at the game, I got to run to meet with coach. I love you.” was the last thing you heard from Garrett at seven in the morning before he hurriedly pressed a kiss against your forehead before heading out the room. You weren’t even fully coherent enough to reply. Just hummed happily before dozing back off. 

You decided that around nine it was time to get up for the day. You had the house empty to yourself. The first time since you moved in. Even with everyone’s hectic schedules, there was usually at least one or two other people home. Not that you minded the company, it let you know the guys better and their habits, which some were admittedly messier than others. 

Your feet padded down against the staircase. You found yourself looking for something in the fridge to make for lunch. With the game being later into the night, you had plenty of time to get ready for it. Right now, you chose to make lunch for the guys. You had bought a huge slab of salmon the other day and decided that it was the perfect thing to pair with some rice and steamed vegetables for the guys. Just like your dad’s game day lunch.

Music blasted in the house while you cooked. You set out individual meal prep containers that you hadn’t had the chance to use since you bought them. You portioned out a slice of salmon, rice mixed with quinoa, along with steamed broccoli and cauliflower to each container. It was close to noon, and you knew by the time you got to the arena, it would be perfect timing for lunch. 

You hadn’t told anyone that you were planning to stop by to drop off the food. The players were still on the ice when you entered the arena. You stopped to sit down a few rows behind the players’ bench while you waited for them to finish their drills. No one had noticed you yet, except for Coach Jensen.

His brows drew together as he tried to figure out if he recognized you. At first, he assumed you were a bunny trying to sneak into watching practice, but his eyes landed on what seemed to be a thermal food bag. 

“Definitely a girlfriend.” He thought to himself.

He saw how you watched the boys with trained eyes. It was as if he could see you mentally noting what some of them could work on. That piqued his interest. “Okay. Let’s head to lunch!” He called out to the players on the ice. “I thought I said no girlfriends during practice.” He threw in right after, causing you to snap your head in his direction and see him already looking back at you.

“I’m just dropping off lunch!” You sheepishly called out. You made your way down, and Garrett was quick on the ice to make it over to you. “Hey, bub.” You smiled, watching him take off his helmet. 

“That’s the missus, coach!” Logan hollered from across the ice. 

“Angel!” Dean’s voice boomed with the sound of his skates coming to a stop near you and Garrett. 

Tucker was the only one out of the four to catch what you told Coach Jensen. “I heard lunch?”

“I hope that’s for us too and not just, G!” Logan called out, making his way over.

“Missus?” Coach Jensen questioned to himself more than anyone in particular. 

“Is that the transfer from New York?”

“I want lunch, too.”

“She’s the one G was with when we saw him at Malone’s the other day.”

“I didn’t know bunnies made lunches.”

That was the chatter that was amongst some of the other players. 

Garrett tuned them out and honed his attention to just focus on you. “You didn’t have to bring lunch for me, Petal.”

“Great! Because I didn’t make it just for you.” Your voice was loud enough for Logan to hear, resulting in him whooping out a cheer. You brought the bag to your front and shook it ever so slightly at the four. “If your coach is okay with me bringing food to feed some of his players…” You trailed off, glancing back at Coach Jensen, who simply was amused by this whole interaction. Never in his life had he seen his star player/captain turn so soft in a matter of seconds, or give any girl the time of day on a game day. 

“Whatcha got to feed these hooligans?” He walked over. You opened the bag for him to take a peek in. He could see the stack of meals you prepared for the guys. His eyes spotted how you made sure to take into account protein and grains along with the vegetables. “Not too bad.”

“Approved?” you said hopefully. 

“Just make sure they get back to me after lunch is over.” He winked at you in approval before making his way to the locker room. 

“Give us a bit, Petal. We’re going to take off the gear, and we’ll come back out. Make yourself comfy on the bench.” Garrett pressed a kiss against your cheek before skating off the ice.

The other three saluted you as they passed by, following Garrett to the locker room. It didn’t take them long to find their way back to you. By the time they returned. They noticed the four containers neatly laid out with a fork sitting on top of each lid, with a napkin placed underneath it. 

Dean whistled out, “Angel, you’re my favorite.” He started to pass around a container, so each one of them had one. 

Tucker had been the first to open it and see what you made. “Smells delicious, Angel. Is that rice mixed with quinoa? Oh, you’re good.” He complimented, blowing you a kiss.

“Our savior,” Logan greeted you with a side hug and a kiss against the top of your head. Before grabbing a container of his own and taking a seat. “Oh, TIGS.”

“Dude, what does that even mean?” Dean questioned him. “This is good shit?”

“No. This is god sent.” 

“Thanks, baby,” Garrett murmured to you in appreciation. He had found his place at your side. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Yeah, it’s dad’s game day lunch.” You two were sat pressed next to one another. Your eyes scanned over to the other guys. A satisfied smile wreathed your lips.

Dean closed his eyes, letting out a blissful sigh as he swallowed. “G, you’re evil for not introducing us to Angel sooner.” 

Tucker paused to chew, pointing his fork at the salmon. “This is delectable. Thank you, Angel.”

Logan mumbled, his mouth still half-full. “Angel, where were you the past three years on game days? This is so good.”

Garrett just laughed at the three’s antics. “And this is why you didn’t meet them until now.”

“We heard that,” Dean called out. 

“How are you guys feeling about tonight?” you asked them, shifting the conversation. 

“We got to make sure we win your first Briar hockey game,” Logan affirmed.

“Not her first Briar game,” Garrett corrected before taking another bite of the food. The remark made the other three pause mid-bite/chew. 

“She’s been to one before?” Logan raised a brow at him

“Angel, we could’ve known each other much sooner!” Dean yelped dramatically. 

“Not the first hockey game, but my first official home game,” you explained. 

“When did you see one?” Tucker asked you.

“I’ve been to a few,” you admitted. “My first one was Garrett’s first game playing because how could I ever miss that? Then I’ve been to a couple away games you guys had when it was close to New York. Most recently before the transfer, I went to Garrett’s first game as captain.”

“Hold on a minute,” Dean said. “You’ve been to all these games, and we never knew?”

“Never needed to bring it up,” Garrett shrugged.

“Wait, is that you got so weird at some of the away games? I always thought you were nervous or some shit,” Logan said in an epiphany. He snapped at Garrett’s direction, “I knew it was weird when you didn’t come out with us after.”

“Like that Clovers game! I just figured you were meeting up with a bunny–” Dean was cut off.

“No, I took Petal to dinner after the game.”

“Oh, that was the nice Italian place!” You recalled it in your memory. 

“We don’t get taken to dinners after games,” Logan scoffed playfully. 

“We’ll take you to dinner tonight, Angel,” Dean offered with a grin.

“Even better, I’ll cook you dinner, Angel.” Tucker winked. 

“Sorry, boys. Not tonight. Gare’s got the family coming in to see this game. I’m sure Gramps will want dinner together tonight.”

“Your family is coming tonight? Like actually? I thought that was just like a joke your dad was making.” Logan gaped. “And your grandfather wants dinner?”

“Not with you shitheads,” Garrett snickered. 

You smacked his arm lightly. “Be nice. They can come if they want to.”

“Family dinner with hockey royalty,” Dean said, a bit starstruck.

“G, how are you not shitting in your pants?” Tucker said, baffled.

“Her dad is okay with her living with us, right?” Logan brought up.

“More importantly, he knows that you guys are sharing a bed?” Dean added.

Garrett put down the now empty container. “Guys.”

“Yes, my dad is perfectly fine with my living situation. He knows that we’re together, and he trusts Garrett. Well, I think the entire family has had a bet going on since we were conceived.”

“Ma, definitely had one with Mom. You remember when we went to Vancouver for vacation?”

“That was what? When we were ten?”

“Yeah, Ma slid over twenty bucks to Mom during dinner when I was cutting your steak–”

“YOU GUYS ARE TOGETHER?” Dean yelled out the second it clicked in his head.

“Honestly, quicker than I expected,” Tucker claimed.

“Let’s not kid ourselves. They were always together.” Logan retorted.

You tore your eyes from Garrett’s and looked back at the guys. You felt heat flush your face, realizing what you casually said. “Yeah, we’re together.” You couldn’t help the smile that threatened to lift the edges of your mouth. 

“Since when?” Tucker questioned.

“The day we brought back the blue blanket from the couch.”

“Oh, I love that blanket,” Logan noted. 

“I know, it’s so soft!” You happily clapped your hands together. 

“It’s really warm, too,” Logan added. 

“You didn’t tell us sooner?” Dean wondered.

Garrett kept his eyes on you. How you animatedly expressed your love of the blanket. The way your eyes lit up when you talked. “Honestly, just slipped my mind. I mean, it’s just so natural being with her.”

“You talking about little old me?” You playfully fluttered your eyelashes at him. “I love being with you, too, love.” You kissed the corner of his mouth, pulling away with a gentle smile. 

By the time warm-ups began, the arena was already loud. Student sections were filling with painted faces and homemade signs. Lots of 44 were seen around the arena. The pep band was halfway through the fight song.

Garrett tapped his stick against the boards before skating another lap, absently scanning the stands. He always looked. Even when there wasn’t anyone to find. 

But tonight was different. Halfway up behind the home bench sat you, your parents, and grandparents. Your dad had a custom Garrett 44 hat, with your mom sporting 44 on her cheek. You spotted him almost immediately and stood, waving both hands over your head. 

Garrett couldn’t help but smile. You were wearing his jersey. His actual jersey. Not one you’d buy from a gift shop. One he’d given you the second you started talking about wanting to plan your outfit. 

You gestured to your parents excitedly. Garrett came to a stop, and he scanned the seats next to you. His pause was noticed by Logan. He lifted his stick toward the stands. 

“What a night,” Logan looked over in its direction.

Dean nearly skated into Logan. “Man, what are you looking at?” Then he saw them too.

Tucker answered before anyone else. “That’s the family.” His eyes looked over two seats next to you, and rest assured, your grandfather sat there with the quiet confidence of someone who’d once stood behind an NHL bench for nearly twenty seasons. 

Dean examined your grandfather. He looked older now compared to clips from his coaching days. The former head coach of the New York Rangers. A living legend. Not to mention your father, who sat next to you. Dean looked like he’d forgotten how to breathe. “They came for him.”

Your grandfather looked down toward the ice. He spotted Garrett and raised one hand. Garrett’s smile widened even more. He lifted his glove and waved back. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. Logan stared. 

You laughed from the stands and leaned over to say something to your dad. He smiled, then cupped his hand around his mouth. “ATTABOY, SON!” The words echoed faintly across the ice. Garrett let out a laugh, then tapped his stick twice against the glass in front of them.

The announcer interrupted, “Ladies and gentlemen.” Warm-ups were over.

The game was fast and physical. Two teams were fighting to lead the conference. By the end of the first period, it was tied one to one. 

Logan threw a huge hit that brought the crowd to its feet. Dean blocked a shot that probably should’ve gone in. Garrett had two chances and saved both. Every time he returned to the bench, his eyes drifted toward your section.

To the same five people who always cheered him on and like how they always would.

Late in the third period, it was still a tie game with only three minutes left. The arena buzzed with nervous energy. Coach Jensen leaned over the boards. “One more shift.”

Garrett nodded, and the puck dropped. Tucker won it clean, and it was back to Dean, then across Logan, who’d carried through center before slipping it wide. Garrett caught it in a stride. There was one defender. Garrett cut inside and the defender bit. Open lane. For the smallest fraction of a second, everything went quiet. He had snapped the puck. 

Top corner. Bar down. Ping. The sound rang through the arena. The red light exploded with the building erupting. Goal.

Students leapt to their feet, and the bench emptied over the boards. Logan tackled Garrett first. Dean nearly knocked both of them over. Tucker arrived a heartbeat later. The arena shook with applause. You were already screaming with both hands over your mouth and tears filling your eyes. 

Your dad was on his feet, clapping so hard that his palms had turned visibly red. Your grandfather stood beside him, grinning with unmistakable pride. The television camera caught them easily. “Hockey royalty celebrating that goal,” one commentator laughed. “Looks like they approve.”

The final horn sounded moments later. Briar Hawks won.

When Garrett stepped off the ice, an arena attendant waved him over. “They’re waiting.” He didn’t need to ask who. The family entrance hallway smelled faintly of popcorn and fresh ice.

The moment that Garret rounded the corner, “There he is!” you ran to him. He caught you before you even reached full speed, lifting you clean off the floor as you wrapped yourself around him. “I almost lost my voice!”

He laughed into your hair. “I heard.”

You pulled back just enough to kiss him. Like it belonged there with such ease. When you stepped aside, your dad opened his arms. “Come over here, son.” Garrett didn’t hesitate and hugged him tightly. 

“Good game, Pop.”

“You kidding?” Your dad squeezed his shoulder. “That release would’ve beaten me.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Garrett attempted to be modest. 

“I know,” your dad brushed Garrett’s hair back from his face. “But I mean it.”

Next came your mom. She cupped his face in both hands before pulling him into a hug. “You look exhausted.”

“I feel exhausted,” Garrett admitted.

“You eating enough?” Your mom tapped his cheek.

“Ma.”

“I asked a question.” She persisted.

“Yes, Ma.” Your grandfather stood, waiting with his hand tucked into his coat pocket. Garrett stopped in front of him. “Hey, Gramps.”

The older man looked over him for a long second and nodded, “I’m proud of you.” 

Garrett swallowed hard, “Thanks.”

“You earned that one.” The former coach clapped him firmly on the shoulder. “Now stop standing around me and go stand next to Petal.” You immediately slid back to Garrett’s side. Your grandfather pointed between you two, “Took you long enough.”

Your mom laughed. “I was beginning to think I should’ve agreed to a betrothal that your mom and I talked about once.”

Your dad shrugged, “I would have given them another year.”

Garrett rubbed the back of his neck. “It was obvious?” Every member of the family stared at him. He sighed, “Never mind?”

“Hey!” Another familiar voice echoed down the hallway. Dean, Logan, and Tucker rounded the corner, still carrying pieces of their gear. They stopped the second they saw your family. Every single one of the three stood a little straighter. 

Dean whispered, “Oh my God.”

Logan elbowed him, “Be normal.”

“I’m trying,” Dean told him.

Tucker quietly failed to hide his awe.

You laughed, “You guys! Come over here!” You motioned them over. “This is Dean, Logan, and Tucker,” you introduced them to your family. The three hockey players suddenly looked like nervous freshmen again. 

Your father smiled first and shook each of their hands, “Good game, boys.”

Dean looked as though he might frame the handshake. “Sir, I watched your highlights growing up.” 

Your father laughed. “Now I feel old.”

“You are old,” Your grandfather commented. 

“I walked right into that one,” Your dad admitted. 

The former head Rangers coach shook hands with each of them too. “I like watching your line.” The three roommates collectively forgot how words worked. 

“Thank you, sir,” Logan managed. 

“That means a lot,” Tucker remarked.

Your grandfather smiled, “You boys play the game the right way.”

Dean quietly leaned toward Garrett and you, “I’m never washing this hand.”

Garrett snorted, and you laughed, leaning into his side, “I figured.”

Your mom looked around the group. “So, who’s hungry?” Every hand went up, and she laughed, “Perfect, go get changed and let’s head out.”

The players immediately obeyed. Garrett kissed the side of your head. “I’ll be back out.”

As the guys started walking together, Dean drifted beside Garrett. “So…”

“What?” Garrett glanced over at him. 

“They really are your family.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He looked back to the group waiting for them. At the people that had supported him through everything. Then looked back at the guys, the friends who had become brothers. Then back to you, watching as you shooed him to hurry along.

“I’m picking up what you’re putting down, and I will go find Tucker to give him another beer.” Logan saluted you as he went to grab a new beer and locate Tucker.

“Am I invited to this dinner tomorrow?” Beau quipped to Dean.

“I don’t know, man. Are you?” Dean teased. “Missy, here is the woman of the house. You’ll have to ask her,” Dean jutted his thumb in your direction.

Beau turned to face you and pouted as he asked, “May I please come over for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Excuse me, I do not live here,” you mocked in defense. “But, yes, you are invited to family dinner.”

"Don't even start with that," Dean waved you off.

“Family dinner?” Beau questioned you and Dean.

Dean let out a laugh, “Yeah, Tucker and Missy have been alternating in cooking on Sundays, and now it’s family dinner,” as if that explained why you and the boys considered it family dinner. 

“Garrett invited me over to dinner at the beginning of sophomore year, and Tucker was cooking tortellini. We were all hanging out afterward, and I told them how I would cook more if I wasn’t in the dorms. I hated cooking in the dorms because the smell lingered way too long,” you started. “Anyways, he cooked dinner that night, and the next weekend I cooked, so it just kind of became a cycle. A routine.”

“Why haven’t I been invited to family dinners until now?” Beau raised a brow at Dean. “I would’ve brought something!”

You let out a giggle at his dramatics. “Yeah! Why didn’t you invite Beau?” you goaded.

“Not you too, Missy,” Dean groaned into his drink. The red solo cup is blocking the view of his face. 

Allie approached you guys and poked at Dean’s side, causing him to choke on his drink. You and Beau try not to laugh, but the second you look at each other, the laughter spills out. “What are you guys going on about?”

“Family dinner,” Dean answered her.

“Is Tucker cooking tomorrow or Missy?” Allie pondered for a moment. “Oh, wait! She cooked last weekend, so Tucker’s definitely cooking.”

“Missy wants to get him drunk tonight, so we can get him to agree to make tortellini tomorrow,” Dean explained the plan to Allie as he pulled her into his side. “You know he’ll feel bad if Missy asks and he doesn’t follow through with it since she made her famous dish last week per his request.”

Beau quit mid-laugh the second he comprehended that Allie had been attending these family dinners. “Am I the only one not attending these dinners?” he called out, exasperated. 

“Dean should’ve invited you earlier.” Garrett slapped a hand to Dean’s shoulder as he joined you all.  

“G, not cool, man.”

Garrett made his way to you with a new can of cherry Coke in hand. “For the lady,” he presented it to you and took the empty can. He set it down on the counter before turning back to you. “I’ve been wondering where you were, but I found you with these bozos and Allie.”

“Beau is very upset that he hasn’t been in attendance for family dinners on Sundays,” you whispered to him as he snuck an arm around your shoulder. 

Your eyes were on Dean and Beau as they started going at it again, but this time Allie joined Beau’s side. Dean’s eyes flared open with joking betrayal. “Babydoll, not you too. Please.”

“You want to make rounds?” Garrett asked softly, leaning down to speak into your ear. 

“Yeah, I want to check in with Tucker. Make sure Logan is getting him drunk, so we can get Tuck’s delicious ricotta tortellini.”

Garrett guided you away from the group in the kitchen. You both navigated through the living room in search of the fellow housemates. You see Tucker downing a beer and Logan immediately offering him another, which Tucker greedily took into his hands. Logan winked at you knowingly as you and Garrett approached the pair. 

“How you feeling, Tucker?” Garrett asked him, amused. 

“Great, G!”

“You’re cooking dinner tomorrow, right?” you questioned, trying to seem like you weren’t sure.

Tucker scratched his head and looked at Logan, who gave him a nod. “Yeah! Of course I am,” he blurted out.

You unconsciously leaned your head against Garrett’s shoulder. “Do you have anything specific in mind?” You glanced over to Logan with a slight smirk. 

“Dude, you should totally make tortellini again!” Logan suggested.

Tucker immediately started shaking his head, “Absolutely not. Do you have any idea how long that takes to make?”

“But, Tuck, you know how that’s my favorite! Won’t you even think about it?” You pull away from Garrett’s side to go to Tucker with the biggest pout you managed to put out. 

Tucker took one look at your face, then another at Garrett, and he folded quickly. “Yes, I will,” he sighed, knowing there was no point in saying no to you. “Only because you’re my favorite.”

You let a short cheer out and pressed a kiss to Tucker’s cheek. “You’re the best, Tuck!”

“Enough of that,” Garrett interjected you two, and he gently grabbed your hip to pull you back beside him. 

“Mr. Best Friend is jealous that I’m going to steal your heart, Missy,” Tucker joked.

Logan doubled over in laughter, fully shaking with amusement, “Oh, you know that a way to a woman’s heart is food.” 

“Might just take Missy right from you.” Tucker playfully reached out for you with a smirk, pinching at his cheeks.

Garrett’s grip on your hip tightened just enough for you to notice. Heat flooded your cheeks, and you felt like the room was getting hotter by the second. You should’ve been used to the jokes by now, but being Garrett Graham’s best friend since freshman year came with lots of teasing.

The day you and Garrett met was in a history lecture, and he was sitting behind you. When class ended on the last day of the first week, you were still gathering your stuff, and Garrett was getting up to head out. In a rush to grab his ginormous water bottle, he brought it up, and it hit you right in the back of the head.

The professor whose name you hadn’t quite remembered yet just dismissed class, and the usual chaos of shuffling backpacks with everyone gathering their things filled the room. You remained seated as you were putting away your notebook and trying to search for your headphones in your backpack. With your head slightly tucked down, you weren’t really too aware of your surroundings, and something had smacked into the back of your head.

Thunk.

It wasn’t hard enough to hurt badly. Just hard enough that it made you jump. You let out a surprised yelp and gently rubbed the sore spot before putting your arm back down.

“Oh shit.” You heard some mutter behind you. Garrett instinctively reached to touch the back of your head with his free hand but retracted, realizing it probably isn’t appropriate to do that to someone you’ve just met, even less so after you accidentally hit them in the head. “I’m so sorry,” he blurted out.

You turn around, and a guy is staring at you in complete horror. It was only a few seconds later when you realized that he was the new hot shot hockey player. Which from what you’ve seen on The Fifth Line, there was a bit of emphasis on the player part.

The expression on his face caught you off guard.

He genuinely looked like he thought he just committed a crime. 

You shook your head, amused despite the small sting. “It’s okay! Things happen.” You laughed off, softly giving him a smile, trying to let him know you weren’t mad. 

Somehow, the poor guy looked even more distressed. 

“No, seriously,” he says. “Are you okay?”

You glanced at the water bottle that is ridiculously large. 

Then back at him.

“Yes, totally.”

“No, seriously.”

“I am serious.”

“I just hit you with my water bottle.”

You laughed at the redundancy. “It was a light tap.”

He doesn’t seem reassured whatsoever. “I know that’s got to hurt a bit.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

He frowned. 

You could practically see him trying to decide whether you’ve secretly suffered a concussion. The thought almost made you laugh again. 

“Seriously,” you told him. “It’s okay.”

“Why do you have to be so nice?” he grumbled, and the look on his face made this far funnier than it should be. 

“You seem to be more upset about this than I am,” you teased, watching as his shoulders slumped. 

“That’s probably true,” he mumbled softly as he kept eye contact with you. There was a twinkle in his eye that you just knew was trouble.

“There he is.”

“What?”

“The normal person.” You get a laugh from that, escaping before he could stop it.

“I should probably introduce myself.” His lips quirked into a smile as he shook his head.

“Officially?”

He paused, confused, “What?”

“I know who you are, Garrett Graham.”

His expression fell blank for a split second before he quickly recovered it with a grin. “So you do.”

“People tend to know you when that’s the only name you hear people cheering at hockey games this year,” you confessed to Garrett.

“You’re very observant.”

“More like I have eyes and ears,” you grinned back at him.

He dropped his head into one hand with a slight chuckle. “Well, I apparently know much less about you than you know about me.”

“That sounds right.”

“So let me make it up to you.”

“By how exactly?” You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Coffee,” he offered. 

You pretended to think about it, but mostly because you’re curious what he would do.

“Coffee?” you repeated in question.

“I owe you.” 

“You really don’t.”

“Oh, c’mon. I’m buying you coffee.”

You smiled, “Okay.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Okay?”

“Sure,” you answered again.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

He looked suspicious for a moment, like he thought there was a catch. You decided not to tell him there is one. Namely, that he still didn’t know your name. And you’re not intentionally volunteering it. You finished gathering your stuff and started to head toward the exit.

He followed right behind you.

The hallway outside is crowded with students weaving between classes. He made a quick step around you to be ahead, so he could hold the door open for you as you left the lecture hall.

Still no name. You took a short look at him, and you could tell he’d noticed. 

The occasional glance he sent your way confirmed it.

You don’t say anything. 

Neither does he.

The silence stretched all the way out of the building. Then a voice called out, “There you are, G!” A tall blond jogged towards you two. “Thought you vanished.”

Your water bottle assailant immediately groaned, “Unfortunately not.”

The blond glanced between you and Garrett. His gaze immediately stuck to you, and a faint smirk played at the corner of his lips. “Oh.”

“No.” Garrett immediately shut him down.

“Oh, absolutely.”

“It’s not–” Garrett was cut off, and the blond ignored him completely. You could tell that they were good friends.

“Who’s your friend?” he asked Garrett with a growing smile. A dangerous smile. Before either of you could answer, he added, “And why does she look like she knows every embarrassing thing you’ve ever done, G?”

You laughed, and Garrett pointed at you. “That’s exactly the problem.”

The blond stuck out his hand. “I’m Dean,” he introduced himself jokingly formally.

You reciprocated by shaking his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, beautiful.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and decided that it was time to put the poor guy out of his misery. You tell Dean your name while purposely trying to keep your attention on him rather than Garrett. 

Dean repeated your name out loud. “Nice.”

From the corner of your eye, you caught Garrett repeating your name quietly to himself like he was trying to memorize it. 

Cute. You thought to yourself.

Then Dean glanced between the two of you again, “So what happened with Missy here?”

You blinked at the nickname. “Missy?”

Garrett groaned again, and you were ignored by the two. “No.”

Dean pointed at him knowingly, “You did something! Because when I walked up, you looked like you’d spent the last ten minutes apologizing.”

“He basically has,” you snorted.

“Exactly,” Dean grinned. “So I figured he’d messed something up.”

“Maybe not messed anything up but a first impression,” you pretended to ponder as you rubbed the back of your head, hoping that it would mess with Garrett. You hid your laugh when you saw that he noticed your little joke.

Garrett looked ready to walk directly into traffic just to distance himself from the embarrassment from you and Dean.

You laughed, and when you glanced back over to Garrett, you caught a look on his face. A wide grin. The one that says he’s just had an idea. Probably a terrible one while you guys were at it.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “What now?”

“What?” he tried to play it off.

“You have that look.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” you insisted.

Dean stopped mid-walk as he burst out laughing, “Oh shit, G. She’s already figured you out.”

That’s when Garrett said, “Nothing, Missy.” You stopped walking. He kept going.

Dean nearly choked. 

“Don’t.” You shook your head at him, but you were talking to Garrett.

“Don’t what?” he responded.

“That.”

“What?”

“Missy.” Garrett’s smile turned innocent. Entirely too innocent. “You literally just learned my name,” you told him.

“Yeah.” 

“And?” 

“And that’s not it,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing. 

Dean was at the point of laughing so hard that he was barely breathing. 

Garrett just shrugged. 

You should probably have been annoyed. Instead, despite yourself, you fought a smile. Because somehow the nickname sounded ridiculous enough to work. Then, judging by the look on Garrett’s face, there was no chance he was going to let it go.

“Coffee,” you said, shaking your head.

“Coffee,” he agreed.

Somehow, before you’ve even made it to the coffee shop, the nickname Missy is already stuck.

By the time that Garrett invited you to hang out with his friends in his line, the two of you had long since become inseparable.

At some point, coffee turned into study sessions.

Study sessions turned into lunch, which led to spending entire afternoons together.

Somewhere along the way, the nickname still followed you.

No matter how many times you complain. No matter how many times you reminded Garrett, you did have an actual name.

To Garrett (plus Dean), you would always be Missy,

Which is why you weren’t surprised when he texted you one Friday afternoon midway through the semester. 

You rolled your eyes as you read his last text and scanned around your room to search for this man’s colossal bottle. How did he forget it? Beats you.

Bingo. 

You found the bottle and headed out to finally make introductions to Garrett’s friends. Who has been bugging Garrett the moment they found out he was hanging out with a girl and not hooking up with her. 

The house itself is exactly what you would have expected when four college freshmen are given a place together. It’s not particularly messy, but it felt lived in. 

The kind of place where people actually spend time together and enjoy each other’s company instead of disappearing into separate rooms 24/7.

The front door barely closed behind you before Dean appeared.

“There she is!”

You pointed at him, “You’re responsible for the nickname.”

“And proud of it,” he cheesed, that kind smile that is always so infectious that you felt your own lips curling.

Garrett appeared behind him. “You absolutely should not be.”

“She still answers it.”

You hated that he was right.

The grin he gave you says he knows it too. 

A few moments later, you’re introduced to the remaining roommates. John and John, or better known as Tucker and Logan. 

The pair bombarded you with questions, and within five minutes, they somehow learned your major, favorite coffee order, and your favorite drink.

“You seem normal enough,” Logan deemed as a proclamation as you guys talked in the living room. 

“Excuse me?”

“I expected worse,” he shrugged.

You looked at Garrett and asked the other boys, “What exactly has he been saying about me?”

Each of the boys quipped a response.

“A lot.” 

“Enough.”

“Some would say too much.”

“I hate all of you,” Garrett muttered under his breath.

“You’ll fit right in,” Logan finished.

By the end of the night, you all were sprawled across the living room arguing over movies and laughing so hard at shared stories that your stomachs started to hurt.

You sat on one side of the couch with Garrett. You were leaning against him while you were talking to Tucker and Logan about the best Batman movie. Garrett was talking to Dean about some girl Dean saw working at Malone’s. Garrett had his arm loosely wrapped around your waist, and his hand was messing with the hem of your shirt.

At some point, you realized something. 

You didn’t feel like a guest.

It was almost like you’d always been there. 

And judging by the way nobody bothered treating you differently, the guys seemed to feel the same way too.

It was the start of sophomore year, and your presence in the Boys’ house was now such a regular occurrence that you had a drawer in Garrett’s room, a toothbrush next to his, and under the sink, he had a bottle of your perfume. 

When you’d pointed it out the first time, he’d shrugged. “You forget stuff.”

“I won't forget perfume.”

“You might.”

“I won’t.”

“Baby, it’s there just in case.”

He claimed that he just wanted you to be comfortable and feel at home, but you knew one of the real reasons was that he was obsessed with seeing your stuff in his room. 

You thought that people would get better about your and Garrett’s friendship, but it seemed that people could never fathom the fact that Garrett Graham had a girl best friend.

Frankly, sometimes you couldn’t believe it yourself. 

As much as the rest of the boys in the line teased you, they were fiercely protective of you and defended you against any rumors that people tried to start. It is endearing how much you and the boys treated each other like family. 

Something you would never admit out loud is the fact you knew that you and Garrett crossed the boundary of best friends a long time ago. Sure, you were attracted to him and cared for him like no other, but his constant saying that he doesn’t have time for a girlfriend really messed with your head. 

You loved him. There was no doubt about it. You tried putting yourself out there and dating, but a lot of the time, guys weren’t interested when they found out your best friend was Garrett Graham.

It didn’t help that Garrett’s love language is physical touch. He constantly found ways to be close and touch you, whether it was an arm around your shoulder, holding your hand in his lap under the table when you and the boys hung out at Malone’s, or a hand that always found your back or hip when you guys navigated through crowds. 

Even with that, there were the puck bunnies to consider, the numerous girls who seemed to gravitate to Garrett the second he flashed that damned smile. But they wouldn’t be able to say they knew him. They didn’t know his favorite band, what major he’s pursuing, how he liked his coffee, or what his mother’s name was. But you did. Of course, you knew him like the back of your hand. 

“Missy, do you know where my–” Garrett’s voice from the bathroom snapped you out of your thoughts. 

You responded before he even finished his sentence: “Bub, your phone is still charging by the bed.”

You were sitting by the window, and the book you were reading had long been forgotten in your hands. You set it aside near a couple of other books you kept there. 

Garrett walked out of the bathroom with his hair still damp from the shower he had just taken, and a towel wrapped around his waist. You hadn’t looked over to him yet as you were folding a blanket that you kept by the window. He watched you with a soft gaze, and a smile budded on his lips.

He went over to the bed and tapped on his phone to check the time. His wallpaper flashed at him. It was a photo of you in the kitchen blowing out your birthday cake candles when he and the boys surprised you with a mini celebration last semester. 

“Hey, we should probably head down soon. I think Tuck is done cooking dinner,” he suggested. “Let me put something on, and we can go.” He went to his closet to grab some clothes. 

You nodded at him and grabbed your phone. “I’m going to head down now to see if he needs any help.” You pressed a kiss on his jawline when you headed out of the room.

You wandered down to the kitchen. “It smells like a restaurant in here.”

“Of course, with Tuck cooking,” Dean said as he carried a case of beers to the fridge. 

“I’m making tortellini,” Tucker called out on the stove.  

Your eyes scanned the room and saw several pots going at once and the counters covered with ingredients. It almost looked suspiciously professional.

“You need any help with anything, Tuck? I’m all yours.”

“Don’t let G hear you say that.” Logan chuckled as he walked into the kitchen, holding something behind his back. 

“Whatcha got, Logan?”

“You know we’d never forget about you.” Logan brought his arm around to his front, revealing a case of mini cherry cokes. 

“You guys are the best.” You buttered them up with a cheesy smile. 

He took one from the case before handing it to Dean to put in the fridge. “For the lady,” he exaggeratedly presented the can to you while bowing. 

“Why, thank you, kind sir.” You accepted the drink in curtsy. 

“Where’s G, man? Foods ready to be served, and his ass is still in his room,” Tucker howled out as he started serving the plates.

You expected to hear a response, but you noticed the silence rather quickly. You looked up from opening your can and saw all three of the guys staring at you for a response. “Why are you guys looking at me?” You blurted. 

“Well, where is he?” Dean prompted. 

“Up in his room.”

“Why is he not down here with us?” Logan added.

“You guys know that I’m not his keeper, right?” you groaned exasperated.

The boys all mirrored the same look that screamed, “Are you being serious right now?”

“I’m not!” Your voice cracked at the delivery, causing the others to laugh.

“What are you all laughing about?” Garrett’s voice broke through the laughter. 

Silence fell upon the room for a few short moments before Dean made a joke: “Just about Missy’s obsession with cherry cokes.” He held up another can to set on the table. 

“G took you long enough, man,” Logan greeted Garrett.

“We were just about to start with you,” Tucker playfully told him.

You all crowded around the old kitchen table. Nobody bothered about matching plates or utensils. One of the chairs wobbled, and Dean had the luck of getting it for the night. You were seated next to Garrett, close enough for your knees to knock into each other and neither of you cared to move. 

The meal was perfect.

You took one bite.

Then another.

Followed by another.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever had,” you praised.

Tucker laughed, “What?”

“I’m not kidding, this is heaven,” you hummed happily.

“Babe, if you think this is heaven, maybe I can show you what real heaven feels like,” Dean dramatically winked at you knowing that it would get on Garrett’s nerves.

“Quit it,” Garrett told him but turned his attention to Tucker, “I told you she’d love it.”

You narrowed your eyes between the pair, “You discussed this beforehand?”

“Obviously,” Garrett stated.

“You are all weird,” you declared to the room.

“And yet you’re here with us on a Sunday night,” Logan bemused.

You pointed your fork at each of the boys, “I regret befriending you all.”

“No, you don’t,” Garrett affirmed.

“No, I don’t,” you admitted with a smile creeping on your lips.

The table fell quiet for a half second. Not awkward. Just one of those moments that everyone wanted to take in and keep as a treasured memory. Everyone glanced at each other with fondness. 

The moment faded when Dean threw a bread roll at Garrett.

If someone were to ask you what your favorite meal is, this would still be the answer.

Maybe not fully because of the tortellini. Which was genuinely incredible. 

It was because of this. The table. The laughter. Logan arguing with Dean. Tucker pretending not to be pleased with himself that everyone kept going back for seconds (and thirds and fourths for the fellow hockey men). Garrett stealing food directly off your plate despite having an identical serving. 

You felt like you always belonged there.

The tortellini just became attached to the memory. After dinner, everyone helped to clean up. Or at least claimed to. Dean somehow managed to disappear. Tucker offered moral support rather than actual labor for once in the night as he sat on the counter, keeping you guys company. You and Garrett ended up doing most of the dishes. Logan cleaned the counters quietly.

“You know I wish I cooked more,” you said to no one in particular. 

Tucker glanced over. “You cook?”

“A little.”

“A little means yes.”

You shrugged, “I used to a lot when I was home, but with the dorms the smells lingered too long, and just not enough space.”

“That’s fair,” Tucker hummed.

“And cooking for one kind of sucks,” you whispered but it was loud enough for the boys to catch it. 

“It does,” Garrett nodded.

“Nobody asked you, bub,” you retorted.

“I’m supporting you.”

“More like interrupting,” you kid.

Tucker laughed, you brought your gaze to him. “You should cook here.”

You blinked at him, “What?”

Dean chose that exact moment to reappear, “Absolutely.”

Logan pointed dramatically, “I second this.”

“You guys haven’t even tasted my cooking,” you cautioned them.

“We’re willing to take risks,” Garrett grinned at you.

The look made you suspicious. “Oh no.”

“What?” Garrett questioned with false innocence. 

“You have an idea.” 

The other three just watched the banter between you two.

“I always have ideas,” Garrett claimed.

“That’s worse,” Logan whispered to Tucker.

You looked around the kitchen. At the house. At the boys who were crowded into it. There was a familiar comfort that you don’t remember forming. And for the first time, the idea didn’t feel strange.

It felt natural.

“Okay.”

“Done.”

By the end of the night, Sunday family dinners existed. 

Every Sunday.

One week Tucker cooked. The next week you did. On a rare occasion, Dean, Garrett, and Logan teamed up to cook for the night.

Nobody was allowed to skip without a legitimate emergency.

Dean attempted to argue that hungry bunnies counted as an emergency. That one earned him a slap on the back of the head from the other three. 

The dinners became routine. Then tradition. 

Followed by something more. People started planning their schedules around them. Sometimes new people were invited.

Bad weeks felt easier knowing when Sunday was coming.

Good weeks feel better when there are others to celebrate with.

By the end of the semester, everyone stopped pretending. Not about the dinner, but about you and Garrett. The two of you still insisted that you were strictly best friends. 

Everyone else nodded along, desperately waiting for one of you to say something about it.

Because whenever someone looked around the table, the picture was always the same.

Garrett grabbed you a cherry Coke every time he reached for his one beer for the night without thinking.

You saved him a portion when he was running late.

The pair of you always sat beside one another.

Nobody said anything. Mostly because they knew that you both would deny it.

But every Sunday, around that crowded table, the rest of the house watched the two of you and thought the same thing. 

That you two loved each other. That you lived better being next to each other. 

“Yo! Missy, do a shot with Beau and me,” Dean shouted from the kitchen, setting out the shot cups.

Before you replied, you looked to Garrett, and as if he could read your mind. “Just spend the night. It's not like you were planning to go home anyway. Go enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks, handsome.” You pressed a quick kiss against the edge of his jaw. “What is it?” you questioned when you went over to Dean and Beau.

“A shot,” Dean answered. 

“Very informative.”

You looked toward Beau, maybe the only responsible person in the house right now. He glanced up to hand you the shot. “Don’t ask me. This was all him.”

Dean’s grin was concerning. You groaned dramatically, “I feel like this is a bad idea.”

“It absolutely is,” Logan agreed.

“Not helping, Logan,” you murmured under your breath. 

Dean wiggled his shot. 

You turned your head to look back at Garrett. Automatically. The same way you always did. In a way, you didn’t realize you did so often, but Garrett noticed. One look and he already knew exactly what you were asking. 

The corner of his mouth lifted. “You’ll be okay. I’ll take care of you, baby,” he reassured you.

“Will I?” You smelled the shot, causing your nose to scrunch up.

“Probably.”

“Probably?” He laughed at your echo as he shuffled over to you guys.

“If Dean somehow tricks you into doing more than one…” he trailed off, looking at Dean, who was setting up even more shots. 

“I heard that, G,” Dean quipped at him.

“I’ll drag you upstairs before you make any life-ruining or altering decisions,” Garrett finished. 

There was a certainty in it that made you smile. It was the thing that always settled something inside you. No matter the situation, you knew that Garrett would take care of you.

Not because he thought you couldn’t take care of yourself. Just because that’s what the two of you did for each other. 

The same way you always made sure he wasn’t overworking himself with practices, games, studying, etc. The same way you brought him his protein shakes to practice when he forgot. 

The same way you both somehow always knew when the other needed support before having to ask for it.

“You ready, Missy?” Dean winked at you.

“Yup,” you cheered with Beau and Dean. You downed the shot, and Garrett was already next to you with a chaser to help.

“One day you’re going to explain this thing between you two,” Dean pointed at you and Garrett. 

“Never,” you and Garrett said simultaneously.

Logan nearly doubled over laughing.

Tucker giggled to himself, having found his way over to the kitchen a few moments before.

Dean looked personally offended.

And Garrett just looked at you with the same twinkle in his eye from the moment you first met. 

The party died slowly with people filtering out in groups. The music was playing low. Empty cups and bottles accumulated on every available surface. By three in the morning, the Boys’ house was mostly quiet.

Tucker was passed out on the couch nearly an hour ago. He mumbled something about tortellini right before knocking out. 

Around the same time, Logan disappeared upstairs after making sure everyone downed a water bottle and some ibuprofen.

Dean was last seen stealing leftover pizza before vanishing into his room.

You were gathering the scattered trash left around the house, with Garrett following you with a trash bag in hand. You two worked your way around the house, making sure that nobody broke anything and didn't say anything about it.

You headed upstairs when Garrett went to throw out the bag outside. 

You found yourself curled into the corner of Garrett’s bed, wearing one of his hoodies that ended up living in your drawer here just for you to wear. You nursed another bottle of water. Not because you got particularly drunk. Because Garrett had handed it to you without asking before you went upstairs. 

The room was dim except for his lamp. Your drawer was half-open. A pair of your socks were sticking out. Your charger is plugged into the wall. 

There is so much evidence of you in this room now that it would be impossible to explain away. Not that either of you really tried to anymore. 

Garrett entered the room and headed straight to grab a pair of sweats. He went over to the bathroom. 

He came back out now shirtless, just in his sweats, and he threw his clothes into the hamper, which landed right on top of yours. 

Garrett sat beside you on the bed. Close enough that your arms brushed against each other. 

Neither of you said much for a while. 

The silence wasn’t awkward. It never really was. It was one of your favorite things about him. The ability to simply coexist together.

Eventually, he glanced over, “Tired?”

“Exhausted.”

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“I always do with you.” Your body started to lean into him.

Garrett brought you into his chest. The smell of your perfume overtook his senses. 

“Ready to go to bed?” he hummed into your hair.

You nodded gently and tore yourself from his grasp to look him in the eyes. Your gaze traveled from his lips to his eyes. Suddenly, neither of you was looking away. 

Something shifted. Not all at once. Just enough. Enough that you felt it, and you knew he did too. 

Garrett exhaled slowly. “Can I tell you something?”

The question snapped you out of your daze because Garrett sounded nervous. He never sounded like that around you, not anymore. 

His laugh was quiet. A little disbelieving. Like he was debating with himself.

Then he shakes his head, “I think I’ve been trying not to say this for months, hell, since the moment you cooked dinner for all of us while we were at practice back in sophomore year.”

Your heart immediately started beating faster. “Okay.”

“I keep telling myself we’re fine just the way we are.”

You blinked, “We are fine.”

“We are,” he smiled. “That’s part of the problem.”

You stared at him, and the room felt like it was getting warmer by the second. 

Garrett ran a hand through his hair. “I like you.”

“Wow.”

“What?” he quirked his brow at you.

“That sounded odd,” you giggled to yourself in disbelief. 

“It didn’t,” he defended weakly.

“It definitely did.”

“It really didn’t.” he shifted closer. “I mean it.”

Your chest hurts in the best possible way. “I know you do.” He froze at your confession.

Not because he’s told you before, but because he’d shown you. 

Every coffee he gave you when he knew you stayed up late studying.

Every late-night conversation in his room pretending that what you guys had was a normal friendship. 

Every time he remembered something small.

Every time he made space for you in crowded places.

Every time his eyes searched for yours after he scored a winning goal. 

Every time he looked at you like you were the best part of his day. 

You already knew, but hearing it made it real.

“What?”

You smiled, “I know.”

His expression looked almost offended. “You were supposed to be surprised.”

“You have a bottle of my perfume under your sink.” 

“In my defense–” you cut him off.

“You gave me a drawer.”

“You needed a drawer. How else were you supposed to stay over so often?” he shrugged.

“Maybe.” You reached for his hand. The movement was natural, like everything else with him. “I like you too.”

The room went still. Garrett stared back at you. “You do?”

You snickered. “Seriously?”

“I just want confirmation.”

“You have been my favorite person since the moment you almost concussed me freshman year.”

He covered his eyes with his hand. “Okay, moment ruined.” But when he uncovered his face, the smile that spread across his lips was devastating. Warm and content. Happy.

“So?”

“So what?” 

You shifted closer. “What does this mean for us?” You pretended to ponder. “Hm.”

“Missy.”

“I think…” You cocked your head to the side. “This means we should probably stop pretending we’re just friends.”

Garrett laughed. A real laugh. The kind that only came out around people he felt completely comfortable with. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” you repeated. 

Then he leaned forward, slowly. His hand settled against your cheek. And when he kissed you, it didn’t feel new. It felt like something you’ve been waiting for a very long time. 

When you finally pull apart, both of you are smiling. A little stunned. Definitely giddy. Garrett rested his forehead against yours. “So we’re not telling them.”

You softly chuckled to yourself, “Absolutely not.”

“They’re going to be unbearable.”

“Especially Dean.”

“He’ll claim responsibility.”

“Too bad it’s thanks to your ridiculous bottle.”

He groaned, “We are keeping this to ourselves.”

“Agreed.” 

The agreement lasted less than eight hours.

The next morning, the kitchen smelled like coffee and bacon. 

Logan was standing at the stove.

Tucker was sitting by the counter with his head in his hands. 

Dean was eating cereal directly from the box. 

Nobody looked particularly awake. You shuffled into the kitchen wearing another one of Garrett’s hoodies, which wasn't unusual. 

Garrett followed a minute later. Also not unusual. 

Nobody paid attention.

Logan continued cooking his bacon. 

Tucker still hadn’t lifted his head up yet.

Dean kept munching on the cereal.

Garrett walked directly to the coffee pot. Also normal.

He poured a cup. He added exactly the amount of cream and sugar you liked. He carried it over to you. Still normal.

“Morning, Missy.” You heard Logan call from the stove.

“Morning,” You replied.

You accepted the mug from Garrett. And without thinking or planning, you leaned up and pecked his lips. Quick. Easy.

And not normal. 

The room went silent. The silence lasted exactly two seconds. 

Then Dean practically launched out of his chair, “I KNEW IT!”

You immediately dropped your head. “No.”

“YES.”

“It has been like six hours.”

“I KNEW IT.”

Garrett groaned. 

Dean pointed to himself, “This happened because of me.”

“It absolutely did not,” Garrett remarked. 

“I brought you together.”

“You really didn’t,” you laughed.

Tucker finally lifted his head and studied you and Garrett for a moment. Then nodded, “About time.”

Garrett pointed at him, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Tucker muttered as he dropped his head back down.

Dean looked betrayed. “That’s all you have to say?”

“What else is there to say?” Tucker’s voice was muffled. 

“They’re dating!” Dean proclaimed.

“They’ve been emotionally dating for like over a year,” Logan shrugged off. 

“Fair,” you mouthed to Garrett. 

Logan flipped another piece of bacon, completely unfazed. “Bacon’s almost done.”

The room erupted.

Dean started shouting. Garrett was laughing. You nearly spilled your coffee when Dean came up to pick you up in a spin, barely giving you time to set down the mug. Garrett made quick work of grabbing it out of your hands. “I call being the godfather to your future children.”

Life seemed to be put back into Tucker, and Logan flipped around, pointing the tongs at Dean. “No man, that’s not how that works.”

Tucker looked more alive than ever. “My sous chef would never pick you, dude.”

Dean sat you down on the counter and immediately started arguing with the other two. 

And standing next to you was Garrett. His shoulder pressed against yours while he handed your coffee back. 

You realized something. Nothing felt different. Not really. The house was still home. The boys are still family. 

Garrett was still your favorite person.

Stirring the steaming mug of coffee the aroma envelops you and enables your shoulders to relax for what feels like the first time in weeks. Your roommate had left for some club and told you she would only be back in the morning meaning you had the entire place to yourself.

Your hand wraps around the warm mug and head for the sofa when you hear it.

Knock.

Knock. Knock.

You freeze, head turning in the direction of the door. You weren’t expecting anyone and no voice accompanied the knocks.

“Probably some prank on the wrong door again.” You roll your eyes.

A loud thud followed making your heart jump. Quickly you rush over to the door, and swing it open. You expect to see someone standing before you but as your eyes cast downward you see the captain of Briar U hockey team sitting outside your door muttering curses at himself.

“Garrett?”

“Hm?” he lifts his head. His grin faltering as he takes in your appearance. Disheveled hair and mismatched pjs. “You’re not Lexi.”

You shake your head. “She’s one floor up.”

He lets out a dramatic groan, his head dropping with a thud against the door frame. A snort escapes you as you clamp a hand over your mouth to stop it. He chuckles, rubbing the back of his head.

“Did you just-”

“No.” You reply too quickly as you remove your hand. “Are you drunk?”

A stupid grin hits his face as he looks up at you. “Absolutely.”

He grabs the door frame and you quickly wrap a hand around his arm, feeling the muscles flex as you help him up. “Okay big guy, let’s get you to Lexi’s.”

He comes to his full height, towering over you as you give his arm a gentle squeeze and let go before taking a sip of your coffee. His eyes flicker to your lips and the cup. “Can I have some?”

Choking on the coffee, you cough and look at him with furrowed brows. “Can’t you have some at Lexi’s?”

He shakes his head vigorously. “But I’m already here.”

“And in a few minutes you’ll be there,” you counter.

He sways as he pushes his hands into his pockets and for a second you can’t help but feel concern tug at your very being. “Be nice to me. I’m drunk.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Fine, fine.” Moving to the side you let him enter the apartment. His head moves from side to side taking in the apartment in its messy glory as you head for the kitchen. “One cup and then you’re out of here, got it?”

He mock salutes before taking a seat on the sofa, dropping his head backwards and turning it to look at you. “You’re pretty.”

Ignoring the compliment you continue to make the coffee.

“I said you’re pretty,” he says louder this time.

“You’re also drunk so that doesn’t mean much.”

You take both mugs to the couch sitting on the opposite end of him before handing it to him. His eyes close momentarily as he inhales the aroma. “And you make good coffee. You might be the whole package deal.”

“Shut up,” you laugh.

His eyes brighten at your laugh. You move the hair from your face and grab the remote to put on the TV just like you originally planned to. Switching through channels you find an old movie to watch and let the silence surround the both of you.

“Where’s your roommate?” he asks.

“At some party.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him nod. “Why aren’t you partying?”

You shrug, shifting on the couch until you’re comfortable. “Not really my thing.”

“So you were just going to watch old movies?”

You turn your head seeing the smile on his face and offer one back. “Problem with that?” you tease.

“Not even a little,” he replies.

He sips away at his coffee as you finish yours and place the mug on the coffee table. The dorm felt too cold all of a sudden. You grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and threw it over yourself.

“Don’t hog the blanket.” He shifts closer, placing the mug down.

“We had an agreement. One cup and you’re gone.” You point a finger at him.

He shakes his head. No, you had an agreement. I did not agree.” He moves until he places his head on your lap, uncertainly you raise your hands to not touch him as he relaxes.

“What are you doing?” You frown.

He looks up at you. “I am getting ready to watch a movie with my new friend.”

Your mouth opens and closes, bobbing like a fish for a reply but nothing comes to mind. He smiles before turning his attention back to the movie. Before you can think better of it your hand moves to his hair, playing with the soft locks as you focus on the TV.

“I have to move at some point. You’re aware of that right?” you ask.

Silence.