anna 🫶🏻

You were a masochist. 

Seriously, there was no other explanation for it. 

‘It’ is your willingness to participate in an impromptu road trip with your best friends. A trip which now included Briar Hockey’s core four in addition to the two earth angels whom you met on your first day of freshman year. 

But back to the matter at hand. The road trip; the reason why you were stuck sandwiched in between the boy you’ve been lying to yourself about liking and your best friend who knew. Knew that even though you said being attracted to blonde men was a ‘recession indicator’, the defenseman to your left had been the star of your most inner fantasies as of late. 

Hannah’s first clue?

Your recent over consumption of romantic novels. 

Most notable to the observant brunette, were the love interests of such novels; of a very specific variety. Cocky, emotionally unavailable, built-like-a-brick-shit-house blondes. 

You said it was exam stress. That you had needed a big ole helping of escapism to get through the barrage of tests you were facing; a little harmless pleasure. 

Nevermind that your recent reading binge had begun just after Hannah had formally introduced you and Allie to Garrett and his friends. Friends including Dean. No, no; that was a coincidence. Something to laugh about over sangria with the girls. 

Well, you laughed. They didn’t. All they gave in response were teasing looks.

Now here you are; months later. Friendships forged with Garrett over your mutual love for Hannah, with Tuck through the sharing of family recipes, Logan via him doubling over laughing at you as you asked him what the ‘genie lamp’ symbol on your car’s dashboard meant, and Dean through… Well, everything. 

It started one night in the hockey house after a call from back home. Nothing easy, it never was, and Dean knew. You didn’t say anything; didn’t have to. He knew something was wrong from how hard you were staring at the TV during a group movie night; the flick of the evening supposedly being your favourite, but when your expression hadn’t shifted in the first 15 minutes he knew something was wrong.

And so, you’d talked about it. And kept talking. About the mundane, the serious, anything that made you laugh or think just a little too hard. 

Despite the seemingly shallow charisma that practically oozed from his pores, Dean was smart. He could read you not just like a book, but like a damn billboard posted on the highways of America. Much like the ones you were currently passing. 

Thus made the seating arrangement in the minivan (because yes, mama Tucker had rented a minivan for your road trip) all the more awkward. 

For you at least, strapped between Dean and Hannah in the middle of the van. 

Curse your car sickness. If not for that, maybe you could have been asleep in the rear rather than practically hyperventilating from the forced proximity to your friend. Your hot, hot, blonde, hockey player friend who knew your signature coffee order and what kind of god forsaken reels made you laugh. 

Fuck my life you thought.

Hannah was having smug, silent conversations with Garrett through rearview mirror eye contact alone. But even with all her NOT so subtle galances toward you and Dean, the poor boy still couldn’t get it. 

Tucker was at the wheel with a rod-straight spine and his hands at 10 and 2 like he was 16 again.

Allie was belting High School Musical, playing solely in her own ears via her headphones, and Logan was somehow sleeping through it all across from her in the back seat. 

But Dean–

Ooooh Dean was practically vibrating with self satisfaction. Comfortably leaning back in his seat with his right arm across your headrest, bent at the elbow to allow his wrist to rest loosely on your shoulder. All while he smiled happily and whistled to himself as he looked out the window. 

You thought you were going to die here.

Sure you were comfortable with these people. Probably more comfortable with them than you were with anyone else on the planet. 

But this was different. 

Because as much as you’d convinced yourself that it was a trick of the mind—only a consequence of ovulation—you were in fact crushing on Dean, hard. 

As hard as the rigid muscles that had been pressed against your side since before the state border. 

“Gettin’ a little low on gas here guys. I’m gonna take the next exit to top ‘er up.”

Thank. God. 

You thought you could kiss Tucker from the pure relief that flooded you after his statement. But alas, you already wanted to kiss one Briar Hockey player, and that was more than enough for your nervous system at the moment. 

The second Tucker put the car in park, you practically crawled over Hannah’s lap to escape the confines of this soccer-mom-mobile. 

Much to the entertainment of Hannah… and Dean

And the bewilderment of everyone else in the car who was conscious. 

“What the fuck was that all about?” 

Garrett had never been one to sugar coat things, as much was evident as the group watched you practically sprint into the store ahead of you. 

Both Hannah and Dean couldn’t contain their laughter. 

Hannah immediately snapped her eyes over to the blonde positioned a seat over from her. Laughing hard enough to shake blonde tendrils out of his eyes like a golden retriever. 

So he knew. Like really knew. 

Dean didn’t even bother to respond with words. Only throwing a wink her way before he was tossing open the vans sliding door and strutting in after you. 

Tucker was already headed in to put sixty bucks on pump four before Garret could speak again. 

Still confused.

“Again I say, what the fuck was all that about.”

Logan and Allie were still in the back.

Still sleeping.

Still singing.

Hannah couldn’t fight her smile as she responded. 

“Like Allie said. It’s the start of something new.”

-

You hadn’t meant to bolt like that; to high tail it out of there like you were on fire. But to be fair, it sure felt like you were. 

The second Dean slid into the seat next to you, your temperature had gone up. Heat rising to your cheeks because apparently your body couldn’t differentiate between physical proximity to an attractive male, your friend, and being held at gun point. 

You were in dire need of some escapism. Again. 

So naturally, you had found yourself in the print section of the gas station. 

Magazines, newspapers, sudoku books and a slim selection of novels. Romance novels.

Here we go. 

You grabbed the first one that caught your eye. 

It also happened to catch Dean’s eye. Who was roughly three feet behind you, grinning like a jackass as he watched you grope for a novel with a muscle-toned football player on it. 

Football?

He could forgive you for that, he decided, because said football player was blonde. 

Oh so blonde; with hair that swooped in front of his eyes as he seductively dipped the woman on the cover. 

You didn’t even bother reading the synopsis. You’d both seen and read enough novels in your lifetime to know the contents of this one. So, you did what any hormonal, touch-starved, forever friend-zoned woman your age would do. 

You skipped to the good part. 

Right to the centre of the book.

Right to where Dante (because of course that was his name) slowly slid his hand into the back of Mel's jeans. 

You were so entranced in the book it was as if someone was whispering the words into your ear.

“Fingertips edging past her delicate lace-”

Oh dear god.

“Shit!” 

Exactly. Because a shit eating grin is what you saw when you turned around to find that it was Dean of all people who was leering over your shoulder, softly reading to you the straight up smut you had chosen to peruse. In public.

“Hey, wait! It was just getting good.”

That fucking smile.

“Dean. You scared me.”

“Clearly.”

Silence. But you swore that megawatt smile of his had to be humming with electricity.

“Well, what do you want? Perve.”

“Oh I’M the perve?!” He asked giddily, pointing a thick finger at himself, “you’re the one reading porn in the middle of a gas station.”

“Yeah, well, you were the freak reading it to me!” You hushedly screeched back at him.

He didn’t say anything; just stepped closer. Close enough his head tilted further down to keep your gaze.

“I happened to like where it was going. The devilishly handsome blonde jock and his girl, who seems far too oblivious for her own good. Who seriously thinks that said handsome devil would sit in a minivan for four hours listening to country music, because he just wants to be next to his friend.”

This was getting too real. 

Real enough that your first instinct was to shy away from his eyes. Convinced his flirting was teasing. 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t end well. Trust me, I know.”

Dean softly, but sternly, gripped your chin and raised your gaze back to his own piercing blue one.

“No. You don’t.”

You dropped the book as he released your chin for your hand and tugged you further into the store. Into the bathroom of all places. 

The lock clicked as he softly pressed you up against the door.

“Let me show you how it ends. Really, because I think you’ll find it’s just the beginning.”

The earnestness in his eyes was almost enough to make you forget your surroundings.

Almost. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Dean. There will be no happy ending in this gas station bathroom.”

He released his breath in soft laughter and leaned his forehead against your own. Hands smoothing over your denim clad waist. Meeting a respectable end right above your curves.

“Later then?”

“…We’ll have a lot to talk about first.”

“Hmmmm. How about you write it down first? I’d rather have you read to me this time.”

“As long as it’s not the only time.”

Releasing a pained groan he lowered his face into the crook of your neck. Hot breath at your pulse.

And - 

Unlocked the door behind you.

“Deal.”

-

Grinning in disbelief you let him guide you out of the single bathroom. 

Back into the open, and into the awaiting gaze of John Logan.

So he finally woke up, you thought.

Logan rapidly looked from the toilet behind you two, to your flushed face and back. Rubbing his eyes in between each glance. 

“Did you just desecrate the room where I'm about to TAS?”

TAS?

It didn’t even take 10 seconds to figure it out.

“Let me guess. ‘Take A Shit’.” 

You just shook your head at the steep drop in the conversation.

“Correct. This is a nightmare; an unhygienic nightmare.”

“Maybe your nightmare. But my dream bro.”

Dean’s clarification didn’t help the heat crawling up your skin.

“We didn’t -”

“Yet.”

You should have known by now that glaring at Dean wouldn’t dissuade him, but you tried anyway. 

“Slow down hot shot.”

“Oh trust me, I’ll go slow. You can’t spell Dante without Dean, baby.”

And with the combination of Dean’s gleeful expression and the look of sheer disgust on Logan’s face, you knew you were never going to live this moment down.