#cc13

You had learned to say no without making it sound like one.

It was a skill you had perfected during the six years you had spent raising Oliver “No, sweetheart, we don’t need that cereal. The one at home tastes exactly the same.”

“No, we can’t get the dinosaur backpack today, but maybe we can put it on your birthday list.”

“No, honey, Mommy isn’t hungry. You can have the last piece.” The words always came with a smile, a kiss to his hair, and some kind of promise that distracted him from everything you couldn’t give him.

You had gotten pregnant at seventeen.

While your classmates worried about university applications, graduation dresses, and who they would take to prom, you had been sitting in a doctor’s office with your mother beside you, staring at the tiny flicker on a screen that would become your entire world.

Oliver’s father had disappeared before your stomach had even begun to show.

At first, he had promised he would be there. Then his replies became shorter. His visits became less frequent. Eventually, his number stopped working altogether.

You had stopped expecting him to return years ago, it had been you and Oliver from the beginning.

You worked as many hours as you could, accepted help only when absolutely necessary, and learned how to stretch every dollar until it felt almost impossible. Oliver never went without anything important. He had warm clothes, food in his stomach, a safe apartment, and more love than he knew what to do with.

But hobbies were different.

Hobbies cost money and hockey, as far as you knew, cost more than almost anything else.

That was why you immediately shook your head when Oliver came running out of school one afternoon with a bright red flyer clutched between his mitten-covered hands “Mommy!”

He nearly collided with your legs, his backpack bouncing against his small shoulders “Careful.” You caught him before he could slip on the icy pavement. “What happened? Why are you running?”

“Look!” He shoved the paper toward you so quickly that it crumpled between his fingers.

Across the top was the Montreal Canadiens logo. Underneath it, in large letters, was an announcement for a children’s skating program being hosted at the team’s practice facility.

Several Canadiens players would be attending to teach local children the basics of skating.

Oliver stared up at you with wide, hopeful eyes “Can I go?”

Your stomach tightened, you read the flyer again, already searching for the cost before you reached the second paragraph “It says it’s free,” Oliver added eagerly, pointing to the word as though he had already anticipated your concern. “Madame Girard read it to us.”

Free, that helped, but not enough.

The program might be free, but skates weren’t. A helmet wasn’t. Gloves, pads, sticks, registration fees, and every other expense that would come later certainly weren’t.

You knew your son, Oliver did not like things halfway.

If he learned to skate, he would want to play hockey. If he played hockey once, he would want to join a team. And if he joined a team, you didn’t know how you would ever afford to keep him there “Baby…”

His excitement dimmed before you even finished, you hated how well he had learned to recognize that tone “It’s just skating,” he said quietly. “Not real hockey.”

“I know.”

“They have skates there. It says.” Your eyes moved farther down the page, all equipment would be provided. Of course he had already memorized every possible argument “You don’t even have to buy me anything,” Oliver continued. “And I’ll be really careful. I promise.”

“That isn’t what I’m worried about.”

“Are you worried I’ll fall?”

“A little.”

“I fall all the time.”

You nearly laughed despite yourself “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I always get back up.” His answer came so simply that it made your chest ache.

Oliver looked so much like you that sometimes it startled you. The same eyes, the same nose, the same determined line between his brows whenever he wanted something badly enough.

You crouched in front of him, adjusting the hat that had slipped over one of his ears “Hockey can be really expensive, Ollie.”

“But this is free.”

“This program is free. But what happens if you love it?”

His face scrunched in confusion “Would that be bad?”

The question struck harder than it should have, you looked down at the flyer in your hands.

You had spent so much of Oliver’s life trying to protect him from disappointment that perhaps you had begun preventing him from experiencing things at all “No,” you whispered. “Loving something wouldn’t be bad.”

“So I can go?” You hesitated for another few seconds, then Oliver pressed his mittened hands together dramatically “Please, Mommy. Please, please, please. I’ll clean my room every day.”

“You should already be cleaning your room.”

“I’ll clean your room too.”

That finally made you laugh “Okay.”

His mouth dropped open “Okay?”

“One session,” you clarified. “We’ll try it once.”

Oliver threw himself into your arms so hard that you almost fell backward “Thank you! Thank you, Mommy!”

You held him against you, closing your eyes as he bounced excitedly in your embrace, you only hoped you hadn’t just introduced him to something you wouldn’t be able to continue giving him.

The Canadiens’ practice facility was larger than Oliver’s entire school.

He walked beside you with one hand wrapped around two of your fingers, his head turning in every possible direction as volunteers guided families toward the registration tables.

There were Canadiens logos on the walls, photographs of players, and children everywhere dressed in red jerseys.

Oliver had insisted on wearing the Canadiens shirt your younger brother had given him for Christmas. It was slightly too big, hanging almost to his knees beneath his winter coat, but he had refused to take it off “Do you think the players will see my shirt?” he whispered.

“I think it’ll be difficult not to.”

“Do you think Cole Caufield will be here?”

You looked down at him “I don’t know.”

“He’s number twenty-two.”

“I know.”

“He scores lots of goals.”

“I know.”

“He’s not very tall for a hockey player.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile “Maybe don’t say that to him if you meet him.”

“It’s not mean,” Oliver defended. “Madame Girard says we shouldn’t be sad about things we can’t change.”

You stopped walking “Definitely don’t say that to him.”

Before Oliver could respond, a volunteer greeted you and asked for his name, you completed the registration forms while he stood pressed against your side, nearly vibrating with anticipation.

A few minutes later, he was fitted for skates, a helmet, elbow pads, and gloves. Everything was supplied by the program, just as the flyer had promised, Oliver looked down at himself in complete wonder “Mommy, look.”

“I’m looking.”

“I look like a hockey player.”

Your heart squeezed “You do.”

He lifted his helmeted head, beaming at you, for a moment, all of your fears disappeared beneath the sight of his smile, then he attempted to stand. His skates slipped in opposite directions, and he grabbed your arms before he could fall “Okay,” he muttered. “Maybe not yet.”

You laughed and helped him shuffle toward the rink entrance.

Several Canadiens players were already on the ice, skating between groups of children. Parents filled the stands, holding phones and waving whenever their children looked toward them.

Oliver stopped the second he spotted the players, his gloved hand tightened around yours “That’s Nick Suzuki,” he whispered urgently “He’s the captain.”

“I recognize him.”

“And that’s Juraj Slafkovský.” You nodded as though you hadn’t spent the previous evening looking up the Canadiens roster so you wouldn’t embarrass him “And that’s…”

Oliver gasped.

You followed his gaze, a smaller player in a red Canadiens practice jersey was crouched near the boards, helping a little girl adjust her grip on the skating aid in front of her “Cole Caufield,” Oliver breathed.

Cole looked toward the entrance at that exact moment, his eyes landed on Oliver, who was still staring at him as though he had just seen a superhero come to life.

Cole smiled and lifted one glove in a wave, Oliver immediately hid behind you.

You blinked.

The child who had talked about Cole Caufield for three days had suddenly forgotten how to function “Was that him?” you asked teasingly.

Oliver peeked around your coat “He waved at me.”

“He did.”

“Why?”

“Probably because you were staring at him.”

“I wasn’t staring.”

“You didn’t blink for thirty seconds.”

Before Oliver could argue, one of the instructors called his group toward the ice, his excitement vanished, he stared at the surface in front of him, then at the other children already wobbling away from the boards “You’re okay,” you assured him.

“What if I fall?”

“You told me you always get back up.”

“That was before I saw the ice.”

You crouched carefully beside him “You don’t have to do it if you’re scared.”

Oliver looked from you to the rink “I want to.”

“Then being scared is okay.”

He swallowed “Will you stay?”

“The entire time.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

With one final nervous breath, Oliver stepped onto the ice, his skates immediately slid forward. Before he could hit the ground, two gloved hands caught him beneath his arms “Got you, buddy.”

Oliver froze.

Cole Caufield steadied him, keeping one hand against his shoulder until his skates stopped moving “You okay?”

Oliver stared at him, Cole waited. You stood on the other side of the glass, trying desperately not to laugh at your normally talkative son’s sudden silence.

Cole glanced toward you, eyebrows raised in a silent question, you smiled apologetically “He knows who you are,” you called through the open gate.

Cole looked back at Oliver “Oh, yeah?”

Oliver finally nodded “You’re number twenty-two.”

“That’s me.”

“You score lots of goals.”

“I try to.”

“And you’re not very—”

“Oliver.” His helmet snapped toward you, you gave him a warning look, Cole’s lips twitched “I’m not very what?”

“Old,” Oliver finished quickly, you covered your face with one hand, Cole laughed “Well, thank you. I think.”

Oliver seemed to relax at the sound, Cole helped him place both hands on a plastic skating aid “Have you skated before?”

“No.”

“That’s okay. I fell the first time I skated too.”

Oliver looked suspicious “You did?”

“Definitely.”

“How many times?”

“I don’t remember.”

“A lot?”

Cole glanced at you again “A lot,” he confirmed.

That seemed to be exactly what Oliver needed to hear. He pushed forward carefully, his skates moving only a few inches, Cole stayed beside him “That’s it, small steps.”

Oliver took another.

Then another.

Within minutes, he had made it halfway down the boards with Cole skating backward in front of him, every time Oliver’s legs began to slip, Cole caught him. Every time he looked toward you, you waved and smiled.

You should have been watching your son.

Instead, you found yourself watching Cole too. There was something unexpectedly gentle about him. He never rushed the children or laughed when they fell. He crouched to their level when they spoke, listening seriously even when one little boy spent nearly five minutes explaining the exact design he wanted painted on a future goalie mask.

And with Oliver, Cole seemed especially patient, perhaps it was because Oliver continued asking questions “How fast can you skate?”

“Pretty fast.”

“Faster than Nick?”

“You should ask Nick.”

“Do you ever get scared before games?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you cry when you lose?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do grown-ups cry?”

“All the time.”

Oliver considered that answer for a moment “My mom cries in the bathroom sometimes because she thinks I can’t hear her.”

Your smile disappeared.

Cole’s eyes immediately lifted toward you, you looked away, heat spreading across your face. Children had no respect for privacy “What do you do when that happens?” Cole asked carefully.

“I sit outside the door.”

“That probably helps her.”

“I think so.”

“It definitely does.”

Your throat tightened, Cole didn’t look at you again, and you were grateful for it, he simply guided Oliver forward, one small step at a time.

By the end of the session, Oliver could move several feet without holding the skating aid. He still fell constantly, but each time he pushed himself back onto his knees with a determined little grunt.

Cole was there every time, offering a hand but waiting to see whether Oliver wanted to stand on his own, when the session ended, Oliver refused to leave the ice “Five more minutes,” he begged.

“You said that ten minutes ago,” you reminded him from the gate.

“I’m practicing.”

“The next group needs the rink.” Oliver looked toward Cole for support, Cole lifted both hands “Your mom’s the boss.”

Oliver sighed dramatically and shuffled toward the exit.

Cole helped him off the ice before kneeling to remove the guards from his borrowed skates “You did really well today,” he told him.

“I fell fourteen times.”

“Only fourteen?”

Oliver’s eyes widened “Is that good?”

“For your first day? Very.” Cole held out his fist, and Oliver eagerly bumped it with his glove, then Cole looked up at you “You’ve got a natural.”

You laughed softly “You don’t have to encourage him.”

“I’m serious. He’s fearless.”

“He was terrified twenty minutes ago.”

“Being fearless doesn’t mean you’re never scared.” Cole glanced at Oliver, who was now attempting to walk toward a volunteer without lifting his skate blades from the rubber floor. “It means you try anyway.”

You watched your son nearly trip over his own feet “He definitely tries.”

Cole stood, pulling off one of his gloves “You’re coming back next week, right?”

Your smile faltered, the program ran for six sessions, but you had only committed to one, Oliver had already reached the equipment table and couldn’t hear you “I’m not sure.”

Cole’s expression changed slightly “Did he not like it?”

“He loved it.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

You knew he wasn’t trying to pry. His voice held only genuine confusion, but embarrassment still settled heavily in your stomach “There isn’t a problem.”

Cole studied you for a second. You busied yourself with gathering Oliver’s coat and shoes “The program is free,” he said gently. “And all the equipment stays here for the kids.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to buy anything.”

“I read the flyer.” He went quiet, you closed Oliver’s small backpack more forcefully than necessary “I’m sorry,” Cole said. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

The immediate apology softened you.

You sighed and glanced toward Oliver, who was telling a volunteer about the fourteen times he had fallen “I know the program is free,” you said quietly. “But hockey isn’t.”

Cole remained silent.

“He’s six. He doesn’t understand that this might be the only time he gets to do something like this.” You folded Oliver’s scarf before stuffing it into his coat sleeve. “What happens when the program ends and he asks to keep playing? What happens when he wants skates that actually belong to him or wants to join a team? I can’t afford that.”

You hated saying it aloud.

You especially hated saying it to someone whose entire life revolved around the sport you could barely imagine paying for “I just didn’t want him falling in love with something I’d have to take away later,” you admitted.

Cole looked toward Oliver.

For several seconds, neither of you spoke, then he leaned against the boards beside you “My parents made a lot of sacrifices for hockey.”

You looked at him.

“Equipment, travel, tournaments. My brother played too. It wasn’t easy.”

“I imagine NHL contracts make it worth it eventually.”

Cole smiled faintly “They didn’t know I’d play in the NHL when I was six.”

“No, but you were probably good.”

“I was six,” he repeated. “I spent half my practices looking at the ceiling and asking when we got snacks.”

That pulled a reluctant laugh from you, Cole’s smile grew “There are programs that help with equipment and registration,” he continued. “Secondhand gear, community funding, foundations. Hockey is expensive, but there are people working to make it less impossible.”

You looked back toward Oliver “I don’t want charity.”

“It isn’t charity.”

“It feels like it.”

“It’s giving a kid the chance to play.” you crossed your arms over your chest, Cole’s tone remained gentle “You’ve already decided you can’t give him hockey before you’ve found out whether he even wants it.”

“That’s because I know what it’s like to want something you can’t have.”

Cole’s expression softened “And you’re trying to protect him.”

“Yes.”

“But maybe this isn’t something you need to protect him from.”

Oliver suddenly came racing toward you in his socks, carrying a participation certificate “Mommy, look! Cole signed it!”

You accepted the paper before it could bend “That’s amazing.”

“And he said I did good.”

“You did do good.”

Oliver looked up at you hopefully “Can we come again next week?”

You felt Cole watching you, though he made no attempt to interfere, you looked at your son’s flushed cheeks and messy hair. He was happier than you had seen him in weeks “One more session,” you said.

Oliver cheered, Cole smiled, you pointed at hi “Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

One more session became two, then three, by the fourth week, Oliver no longer needed a skating aid. He wasn’t graceful, but he was fast—or at least he believed he was.

He would push himself across the ice with quick, uneven strides, his arms extended for balance while Cole followed behind him. You began looking forward to Saturdays more than you wanted to admit.

Not only because of Oliver.

Cole always found you before the session began, sometimes he brought Oliver a hot chocolate from the players’ lounge, sometimes he sat beside you in the stands while another instructor helped Oliver lace his skates. Once, when your bus had been delayed and you arrived ten minutes late, Cole had been waiting near the entrance.

“We thought you weren’t coming,” he said, Oliver rushed toward the equipment room “You thought Oliver wasn’t coming,” you corrected. Cole shoved his hands into his jacket pockets “Both of you.”

You pretended not to notice the warmth spreading across your cheeks.

You also pretended not to notice how often he looked toward you from the ice, at first, you convinced yourself he was checking whether Oliver’s mother was watching him. Then you realized he did it even when Oliver was with another player.

Cole would catch your eye through the glass, smile, and return his attention to the children.

It was harmless.

That was what you told yourself, he was kind. You were grateful. Nothing more needed to happen.

Your life was complicated enough.

You worked full-time at a dental office, attended evening classes twice a week, and raised Oliver alone. You didn’t have time to date, especially not someone whose face was printed on jerseys throughout Montreal.

Besides, men your age rarely knew what to do when they learned you had a six-year-old.

Some became uncomfortable. Some treated Oliver as an inconvenience. Others were interested until they understood that you couldn’t disappear for spontaneous weekends or stay out until two in the morning.

Oliver always came first.

There was no negotiation, Cole seemed to understand that without ever being told. When he asked you to get coffee after the fifth session, he didn’t ask whether you could find someone to watch Oliver. He nodded toward the small café across from the facility “Do you guys have time before you head home?”

Oliver answered before you could “Can I get a muffin?”

Cole smiled “I think that can be arranged.”

The three of you sat near the window, Oliver happily pulling apart a blueberry muffin while telling Cole everything he had learned about penguins at school, Cole listened as though the information was vital “They can’t fly,” Oliver explained seriously.

“That seems unfair.”

“But they can swim really fast.”

“So they’re basically fish birds.”

Oliver’s face lit up “Fish birds.”

You stirred your coffee, hiding your smile behind the cup, Cole glanced at you “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are a little,” Oliver informed him.

“Thank you for defending me, buddy.”

“You called penguins fish birds.”

“I stand by it.”

Oliver dissolved into giggles, you watched them, something unfamiliar and dangerous unfolding inside your chest.

It wasn’t simply that Cole was good with Oliver.

Plenty of people could be charming with a child for an hour, it was the way he included him naturally. He didn’t speak to you over Oliver’s head or act as though your son was preventing the two of you from having a proper conversation.

To Cole, Oliver wasn’t an obstacle, he was part of the conversation, part of the invitation, part of you. When Oliver left the table to choose a sticker from the café counter, Cole leaned closer “So, I have a question.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It isn’t.” you waited “Would you let me take you to dinner?”

Your fingers tightened around your coffee cup “Cole…”

“It doesn’t have to be a big thing.”

“You’re asking me on a date.”

“That’s usually what dinner means.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you became a mom when you were seventeen.” you stared at him “Oliver told me.”

“Of course he did.”

“He also told me you make the best grilled cheese, you’re scared of spiders, and you sing in the car when you think he’s asleep.”

Your embarrassment grew with every word “I’m going to have a serious conversation with him about oversharing.”

Cole smiled “I know you work six days some weeks. I know you’re taking classes because you want to become a dental hygienist. I know you always bring an extra pair of mittens for Oliver because he loses one almost every time you leave the house.”

You looked toward your son, he was still examining the stickers “And I know you spend so much time worrying about giving him enough that you don’t realize he looks at you like you gave him the entire world.”

Your throat tightened, Cole’s smile softened “I know enough to want to know more.”

“You play for the Canadiens.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“People know who you are.”

“Sometimes.”

“My life doesn’t look like yours.”

“I’m not asking it to.”

“I have a child.”

“I noticed.”

“He comes first.”

“He should.”

There was no hesitation, no disappointment, no subtle attempt to convince you that perhaps, eventually, you could put someone else first. Cole simply accepted it “He will always come first,” you repeated.

Cole nodded “That doesn’t mean there can’t be room for anyone else.”

Oliver returned to the table with a glittery dinosaur sticker pressed to his coat “Look, Mommy.”

You smiled at him “I see it.” He turned toward Cole “Are you coming to our house?” your eyes widened “Oliver.”

“What?” He looked between you. “He asked about dinner.”

Cole pressed his lips together, clearly fighting a laugh, you narrowed your eyes at him “Don’t encourage him.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Oliver climbed back into his chair “We have spaghetti.”

“I love spaghetti,” Cole said.

“Cole.”

He finally laughed “All right. I’ll stop.” but when you looked down at your coffee, you couldn’t stop smiling.

Your first date happened at a small Italian restaurant two weeks later.

Your mother watched Oliver, though he had loudly complained that he wanted to come too “It isn’t fair,” he had declared while you stood in front of your mirror, trying to decide whether your dress looked too formal. “Cole is my friend.”

“He was my friend first,” Oliver continued. “I met him on the ice.”

“You’ll survive one evening.”

“Are you going to kiss him?”

You nearly poked yourself in the eye with your mascara wand “Why would you ask that?”

“Grandma said it’s a date.”

“Grandma needs to mind her business.”

Oliver appeared in the doorway, wearing his dinosaur pajamas “If you marry him, can I play hockey for free?” You stared at him through the mirror “That is absolutely not how marriage works.”

“Can he live here?”

“You are getting very far ahead of yourself.”

“Can I call him Dad?” Your hand stilled, Oliver’s expression remained innocent, but the question settled painfully between you, you turned in your chair “Come here.”

He walked over, and you pulled him gently between your knees “Cole and I are only going to dinner.”

“But if he becomes your boyfriend?”

“Then he would be my boyfriend.”

“Not my dad?”

“No.” You brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Being someone’s dad is a really big job. It doesn’t happen just because someone dates their mommy.”

Oliver looked down at the floor “I don’t have one.”

Your chest broke a little more every time he said it “You have me.”

“I know.”

“And Grandma, and Uncle Daniel, and so many people who love you.”

“But not a dad.” You pulled him into your arms “No,” you whispered. “Not a dad.”

Oliver rested his cheek against your shoulder “Cole would be good at it.” You closed your eyes, that was exactly what frightened you.

Cole never pushed.

Not when you hesitated to let him pick you up at your apartment, not when you refused to introduce him as anything more than Oliver’s skating instructor, not when you cancelled your third date because Oliver woke with a fever , instead, Cole showed up at your door with soup, children’s medicine, and a Canadiens blanket “You didn’t have to come,” you told him.

“I know.”

“You have a game tomorrow.”

“I’m aware.”

“You should be resting.”

“I can rest here.”

He spent the afternoon on the opposite end of your couch while Oliver slept against your chest. Cole watched game footage on his tablet with headphones, occasionally looking over to make sure you didn’t need anything.

When Oliver woke, warm and miserable, Cole played cartoons with him until he fell asleep again, he didn’t make a big production of helping.

He simply did it.

Over the following months, Cole became woven into your lives so gradually that you barely noticed it happening, his extra toothbrush appeared beside yours.

A small pile of his clothes formed in the bottom drawer of your dresser.

Oliver began asking whether Cole would be joining you before you even mentioned weekend plans, Cole attended Oliver’s school performance and sat beside your mother, clapping louder than anyone when Oliver delivered his single line.

He learned which vegetables Oliver would eat and which ones required negotiation, he knew that nightmares meant Oliver needed the hallway light left on and that thunderstorms usually sent him climbing into your bed.

Most importantly, Cole never tried to replace anyone.

He didn’t demand a title, he didn’t force affection, he let Oliver decide what their relationship would become, the skating program eventually ended, but Oliver’s love for hockey did not.

You had known it wouldn’t.

The final day, he left the ice with tears streaming down his face “I don’t want it to be over.”

You crouched in front of him, wiping his cheeks “I know.”

“I want to keep skating.”

“We’ll figure something out.” It was the same kind of promise you had made his entire life, a soft answer designed to delay disappointment.

This time, Oliver recognized it “You said hockey costs too much.”

Cole, standing a few feet away, went still, you glanced at him before returning your attention to Oliver “We can look at different programs.”

“But can I play on a team?”

“I don’t know, baby.”

Oliver’s lower lip trembled, Cole stepped closer “Hey, Ollie.” Oliver turned toward him, Cole knelt beside you “Do you remember what I said on your first day?”

“That you fell a lot.”

“Besides that.”

Oliver sniffed “That being scared is okay.”

“And what else?”

“I don’t know.”

Cole nudged his knee gently “I said you were fearless because you kept trying.” Oliver nodded “So we’ll keep trying,” Cole said. “Your mom and I will figure it out.”

Your head snapped toward him “Cole.” he looked at you calmly “We’ll figure it out.”

Later, after Oliver had gone with your mother to choose a celebratory snack from the vending machines, you pulled Cole aside “You can’t promise him things like that.”

“I didn’t promise anything.”

“You told him we would figure it out.”

“We will.”

“No, I will.”

Cole’s brows furrowed “Why?”

“Because he is my responsibility.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to pay for him.”

“I didn’t say I was going to.”

“But that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking there are a dozen youth hockey organizations in Montreal, and I know people involved in most of them.”

You crossed your arms “I don’t want you calling someone and getting him special treatment because you’re Cole Caufield.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I won’t.” You hadn’t expected him to agree so easily, Cole took out his phone “What are you doing?”

“Looking up the community equipment program I told you about.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

His fingers moved across the screen “There’s an application for registration support, it’s based on household income, not who someone knows.” You stared at him, Cole held the phone toward you “You can apply. Oliver gets the same opportunity as every other kid in the program. No special treatment.”

You looked down at the webpage “They cover equipment?”

“Some of it. There’s also an exchange program for used skates.”

Your eyes burned unexpectedly, you blinked hard, refusing to cry inside the Canadiens’ practice facility “I didn’t know where to start,” you admitted.

“That’s okay.”

“I should have figured it out.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m his mother.”

Cole’s expression softened “Being his mom doesn’t mean you have to know everything.”

“It feels like it does.”

“You’re allowed to ask for help.”

“I’ve been doing everything alone for six years.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know how not to.”

Cole slipped his phone back into his pocket “Then start small.” you looked at him “Let me help you fill out the form.”

“That’s your definition of small?”

“I was going to suggest letting me carry the equipment bag, but we haven’t bought one yet.” a laugh escaped you through the tears you were trying to suppress, Cole smiled and stepped closer “Just the form,” he promised. “You make every decision. I’ll just sit beside you.”

You looked through the glass toward Oliver, who was showing your mother a bag of chips, then you looked back at Cole “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Just the form.”

His grin widened “Just the form.”

Oliver made the team.

It was a beginner league with Saturday morning practices and games that mostly consisted of children chasing the puck in one enormous group, he wore secondhand skates, borrowed shoulder pads, and a helmet funded through the community program.

You had never seen him happier, Cole attended the first game wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead, hoping not to draw attention away from the children.

It didn’t work.

Within ten minutes, half the parents had recognized him, Cole signed a few autographs but politely redirected every conversation toward the players on the ice “I’m here for number nine,” he said, pointing toward Oliver.

Oliver scored his first goal by accident.

The puck bounced off another child’s skate, hit Oliver’s stick, and slowly slid across the line while the goalie was looking in the opposite direction, Oliver stood frozen for two full seconds.

Then he lifted both arms and screamed.

You jumped to your feet “That’s my baby!” every head in the stands turned toward you, you didn’t care. Cole was already standing beside you, cheering nearly as loudly.

Oliver looked into the crowd, his eyes found you first, then they moved to Cole. He pointed at both of you through the glass. After the game, he came flying out of the locker room still wearing half his equipment “Did you see?”

“We saw,” you laughed as he crashed into you.

“I scored!”

“You did!”

Cole crouched beside him “That was a beauty.”

“It was an accident,” Oliver admitted “They all count.” Oliver threw his arms around Cole’s neck, Cole froze. So did you.

Oliver had hugged him before, but this felt different.

Perhaps because he held on, perhaps because Cole’s arms slowly wrapped around him in return, one hand settling protectively against the back of Oliver’s helmet “You came to my game,” Oliver whispered.

“Of course I did.”

“Will you come to the next one?”

Cole looked over Oliver’s shoulder at you “As long as your mom wants me here.” Oliver released him and turned toward you “Do you?”

Your heart felt painfully full, you met Cole’s gaze.

He had never asked for more than you were prepared to give. He had stood beside you exactly as promised, never taking control, never making you feel incapable.

He loved Oliver.

You could see it in every expression, every patient answer, every Saturday morning he spent at a rink when he could have been sleeping after a game. And somewhere along the way, you had fallen completely in love with him too.

“Yes,” you said softly. “I want him here.”

Oliver smiled “Every game?”

You laughed “We’ll check his schedule.”

Cole reached for your hand, his fingers slipped between yours with an ease that still amazed you “Every game I can,” he promised.

Oliver nodded, satisfied, then he looked between the two of you “Can I call you Dad now?”

The hallway went silent, your breath caught, Cole’s hand tightened around yours “Ollie,” you began gently but Cole lowered himself until he was eye level with him “Do you want to?”

Oliver nodded.

“You know you don’t have to, right?” Cole asked. “You can call me Cole forever, and I’ll still come to your games. I’ll still help you practice. I’ll still care about you exactly the same.”

“I want to.”

Cole’s eyes turned glassy, you covered your mouth with your free hand, Oliver shifted nervously “Is it okay?”

Cole pulled him into his arms “Yeah, buddy,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “It’s more than okay.”

Oliver hugged him tightly.

You watched them, tears finally slipping down your cheeks, six years earlier, you had sat in a doctor’s office convinced that your life was ending.

In reality, it had only been beginning.

The road had been harder than you could have imagined. You had spent years counting every dollar, questioning every decision, and trying to become every person Oliver might ever need.

You had believed accepting help meant you had somehow failed, Cole had shown you otherwise, you had not failed because Oliver needed more people to love him.

You had succeeded in raising a child whose heart was open enough to welcome them.

Cole stood with Oliver still clinging to his side and reached for you, you stepped into his embrace. Oliver became squished between you, laughing as he complained that he couldn’t breathe.

Cole kissed the top of his helmet before pressing his lips to your forehead “I love you,” he murmured, you leaned into him “I love you too.” Oliver wriggled until his face appeared between you.

“I love hockey.”

You and Cole both laughed “We know,” you told him.

“And I love you.” Your expression softened “I love you too, baby.”

Oliver looked at Cole “And I love Cole.” Cole closed his eyes briefly, his smile trembling at the edges “I love you too, Ollie.”

For once, you weren’t thinking about what came next.

You weren’t calculating the price of new skates or worrying about next month’s schedule. You weren’t wondering whether something good would eventually be taken away.

You simply stood between the two people you loved most, surrounded by the sound of children laughing and skates cutting across the ice, you had brought Oliver to the program believing hockey might give him something you couldn’t afford.

Instead, it had given both of you something money could never buy.

You had been friends with the Hughes brothers for a long time. Being friends with the Hughes's meant that you were invited to the lake house every summer. You had met Alex, Trevor, and Cole pretty early in their friendship with Jack, which led to you becoming friends with them too. You even you lived with Jack and Luke in Jersey, since you worked in Newark it made the most sense, Jack logic. You and Jack recently had started hooking up like once every three weeks and you had also hooked up with Luke but only like twice a year.

All five of them were attracted to you sexually and all of them new every detail of your sex life, you weren't a hoe or a slut or anything but you definitely knew what you wanted in bed and how you liked it. Never having been shy to openly talk about your sex life in front of the boys the tension had always been there, they've all jerked off numerous times thinking of you and the stories you've told about the men you've slept with.

This summer the sexual tension had been almost unbearable, and you finally had decided to do something about it. Y'all were gathered around the fire pit making s'mores, but they weren't focused on the s'mores. You wearing a t-shirt and some panties, you have never been shy to show off your body either, so they all were getting hard because every time you shifted your shirt rode up and they could see your panties. They also could tell that you didn't have a bra on, the chilly night air had your nipples pebbled under your shirt.

"You do realize you aren't subtle right?" You ask

"Well we all want you" Alex says.

"To fuck me?" You ask looking at him.

"Yeah" Luke says, "But we'll fight over who gets to go first."

You look at all six of them, "Easy, Jack and Trevor, then Cole, then Alex and Luke and last but not least Quinn" you say.

"Wait you want two of us at a time?" Trevor asks

"Yeah I've always wanted to have two cocks in me at the same time" you say winking at Trevor, "Most threesomes I've had they've been to chicken to try it."

Trevor and Jack stand up, "Let's go then."

You stand and follow them before looking at the rest of the boys, "Not coming to watch?"

"Seriously?" Quinn asks

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't serious" you say.

You, Jack, and Trevor lead the way into the house before you all settle in the living room. Quinn, Luke, Alex, and Cole sit down on the couch, after stripping since they are next, to watch as Trevor kisses your lips and Jack kisses your neck from behind.

Jack slides his hands under your shirt and plays with your tits causing you to moan into Trevor's mouth. Trevor slides a hand into your panties and feels you already dripping wet.

"Barely even done anything and your dripping baby" Trevor says spreading your wetness around before circling your clit.

"She's always like this" Jack says.

Trevor and Jack strip you naked before Trevor drops to his knees infront of you and places one leg over his shoulder and begins eating you out. Jack wraps one arm around your waist to hold you upright before kissing and biting on your neck.

You moan as Trevor uses two fingers and inserts them slowly before moving them in and out at a fast pace, you throw your head back onto Jack's shoulder as your pleasure increases.

"Tastes so sweet baby" Trevor says.

Jack whispers in your ear, "Cum for us baby."

You moan before cumming all over Trevor's fingers, Trevor groans as he works you through your release.

Trevor pulls away before standing up and kissing you, "You okay?" He asks

"Yeah" you say, "You two are way overdressed."

You help Trevor and Jack strip before Jack lays down on the rug, "Come on baby."

You straddle Jack and line up with his cock before sinking down slowly causing you both to moan, you lean forward and brace yourself on Jack's chest and look over your shoulder at Trevor.

"Come on" you say before pausing and winking, "Daddy."

The boys all groan at your words, Jack smacks your ass as Trevor lines up and sinks into you slowly causing you all to moan. Trevor gives you a few minutes to adjust before him and Jack begin moving in tandem.

You moan as Trevor thrusts into you and Jack thrusts up both hitting your g-spot, Jack reaches down and starts circling your clit while Trevor fondles your tits, pinching your nipples.

"Fuck taking us so well baby" Jack groans.

Trevor leans in and bites along your neck, "Good girl, doing so good."

You moan as your orgasm approaches, "Fuck I'm close."

"Good girl cum for us baby" Jack says.

You moan before cumming all over thier cocks, Trevor groans as his orgasm hits him immediately after and he stills inside you and fills you up. Jack thrusts a few more times before stilling inside you and filling you up with a groan. Jack and Trevor give you a few minutes to catch your breath before pulling out, both boys go get you some water.

"You okay?" Trevor asks

"Yeah that was amazing" you say.

Jack gives you a little kiss, "you up for more?"

"Yeah" you look at Cole, "Come on, your up next."

Jack and Trevor move joining the rest of the boys on the couch as Cole joins you on the floor, you push him onto his back and straddle his thigh.

Cole groans as you grind on his thigh, "Baby don't tease."

You continue moving his thigh till Cole's whining and begging for you to ride him, you move and line up with his cock before sinking down slowly.

"Hands above your head" you command, "No touching."

Cole groans as he does what you say, you moan as you begin bouncing on his cock.

You move slowly making Cole whine, "Mommy please faster."

You smirk before picking up the pace and moving faster, Cole whines as his orgasm gets closer.

"I'm close" He says.

"Wait for me baby" you say.

Cole whimpers as he struggles to hold back, "Baby please."

"Be a good boy and cum for me" you say.

Cole groans before he's cumming, he whines as you continue moving till your cumming with a moan of his name.

You two catch your breaths before you move off Cole and he goes back to the couch. You look over at Luke and Alex, "Alright boys your up."

Alex comes and gets infront of you and you immediately kiss the tip of his dick, Alex groans as you take him down your throat.

You moan around his cock as you feel Luke behind you, Luke slowly inserts his cock into your cunt. Alex groans as you begin bobbing your head in tandem with Luke's thrusts as he pounds into you, it doesn't long before Alex is cumming down your throat groaning your name. You swallow before pulling off his cock, you moan as Luke grabs a handful of your hair and pulls you up so your back is to his chest. Alex gets on his knees infront of you and starts kissing your neck, he reaches down and smacks your clit.

"Fuck she liked that" Luke says as you clench around him.

You moan as Luke smacks your ass as Alex smacks your clit, "I'm close" you say with a whine.

Alex continues smacking your clit and kissing your neck, while Luke wraps a hand around your throat and tilts your head back so he can spit in your mouth. You swallow which causes all the other boys to groan, "Fuck this is hot" Jack says.

You moan before cumming all over Luke's cock, he works you through your orgasm before pulling out and bending you over and cumming on your ass. He runs his fingers through his release before pulling you back up and making you suck his fingers clean.

Alex reaches down and sticks a couple fingers in your cunt before pulling them out and licking them clean, "Tastes so good."

They help you lay down on the rug before getting you some water, "You okay?" Luke asks

"Yeah" you say before looking at Quinn, "Your turn, but I will warn you it won't take long for me to cum again since I've came so many times."

Quinn approaches you, "I've been watching this whole time trust me I won't last long either."

Quinn lines up with your entrance and enters you slowly causing you both to moan, "Oh fuck so tight."

"Quinn move please" you beg.

Quinn begins moving slowly, "Oh shit I won't last long."

You moan as Quinn starts circling your clit, "Quinn I'm cumming."

Quinn groans as you squirt all over his cock, "Fuck baby."

Quinn thrusts a few more times before stilling inside you and filling you up. Once you catch your breaths Quinn slowly pulls out and helps you up, "you okay?"

"Yeah I'm great" you say, "we should do that again."

"Now?" Trevor asks

"Tomorrow" you say.

The harsh Michigan sun slipped through the thin curtains of the lake house, waking you in almost an instant. You grabbed the dark throw blanket off the ground, covering your face to shield your eyes. You shuffled, trying to settle in more carefully on the half deflated air mattress so you could get just five more minutes. You maybe got two hours of sleep last night, being kept awake by Trevor’s snoring from the bed above. Several times throughout the night, Cole got frustrated with his snoring and kicked him. Trevor kicked him right back, sending Cole straight down to your mattress. He never landed directly on top of you as you chose to sleep as far away from the boys as possible, but he did come close. It happened four times (yes you counted) throughout the night, deflating your mattress little by little each time Cole’s body was thrown down. You closed your eyes, balling your body up under the blanket as you quickly let yourself drift back to sleep.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Cole groaned sleepily at Trevor who was too deep into his slumber to hear. You heard the shuffle of Cole’s foot reaching to kick Trevor, rolling your eyes at what was about to happen. You pulled the blanket from off your head, moving over to the side to give Cole some space to land. Just five seconds later, Cole let out a slight scream, falling right next to you on the air mattress. You turned to look at him, anger evident in your eyes as he made himself comfortable on your makeshift bed. You quickly grabbed the pillow your head was lying on to hit him square in the face. 

“Ow! Trev-” He paused, opening his eyes which softened at the sight of you, even if you were furious. “Oh. Hey, baby.” He said with a soft smile, letting his eyes shut again as he reached his arm around to pull you close to him.

You pulled yourself out of his grasp, scooching closer to the edge of the mattress as you sat yourself up straight. “Don’t ‘hey baby’ me!” You groaned, your mind still not fully awake. “You assholes kept me up all night!” Cole kept his eyes shut, nodding his head as he listened to your incoherent words. 

“Should’ve just slept down here with you.” He mumbled through his sleepy state, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you down. You scoffed, moving out of his grasp to stand next to the mattress. You crossed your arms, looking at Trevor who had his whole body splayed across the bed, then down at Cole whose smaller frame still managed to take over your territory. Somehow, the two boys were able to continue their sleep, even with the bright light shining through the window. You stared down at the scene before you, shaking your head in disbelief. It was like babysitting two toddlers who had somehow gained the bodies of grown men. Cole was already softly snoring again, his arm flung over the edge of the deflated air mattress where you had been moments before. Trevor, meanwhile, let out a particularly loud snore, causing him to twitch and sprawl even further across the bed above. You picked up a pillow from off the ground, throwing it at Trevor whose body didn’t even flinch at the action. You took one last look at the boys before huffing out your breath and exiting the room. You walked down the hallway, your legs wobbling slightly through your sleepy state. You were pissed when you found out you’d have to share a room with Trevor and Cole this trip. Normally it was Jack who shared with the two of them in his room, but he decided this year he wanted to “Bunk alone. For the greater good, you know?” whatever that means. The spare bedroom where you slept every year (alone might I add) had been quickly invaded by the two most testosterone filled creatures you knew, and you were not happy in the slightest. The lake house had always been your escape, but this year it felt more like torture. You made your way down the stairs, hair messy, voice groggy as Luke’s Michigan t-shirt fell slightly past your athletic shorts. You walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass to pour yourself some water. 

“Mornin’” You heard a low voice hum through the quiet of the kitchen. You turned your head slowly, seeing Quinn walking down the stairs to the kitchen. His hair was ruffled messily in his face while the neckline of his t-shirt hung low. You tried your best to send him a smile as you continued to fill your glass at the fridge dispenser. He walked closer, placing a hand on your lower back as he shuffled behind you to get to the pantry which sent a quick shiver down your spine. 

“Morning,” you mumbled back, your voice still heavy with exhaustion as you sipped your water. The cool liquid soothed your dry throat, but it did little to fix the throbbing headache that lingered from your sleepless night.

Quinn grabbed a box of cereal from the pantry, his movements slow and deliberate, clearly still half-asleep himself. “Rough night?” he asked, his tone light but laced with understanding.

You let out a bitter laugh, rubbing your hands against your face. “Rough doesn’t begin to cover it.” You said, leaning against the counter as you looked at him. “Trevor snored all night, and every time he snored, Cole would kick him. Then, Trevor would kick Cole back, sending him flying down to my mattress.” Quinn’s face cringed up as you spoke. “Four motherfuckin’ times. And each time, my mattress deflated just a little more.” 

Quinn chuckled softly, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. “Sounds about right. I told Jack you’d kill him for sticking you with those two.”

“Oh, I’m definitely killing him,” you replied, crossing your arms. “This lake house is supposed to be my sanctuary, not…whatever that was.” You gestured toward the ceiling, as if the chaos of the night was still lingering above you. 

Quinn smirked, grabbing the milk from the fridge and shaking his head. “Jack probably thought it’d be funny. He’s always been the king of passing off the worst roommates.”

“Well, his reign ends today,” you muttered, rubbing your temple. “I’m moving to the couch if I have to. No way I’m surviving another night like that.” 

Quinn paused mid-pour, glancing up at you with a hint of mischief in his expression. “You know…” he started, “My room’s always an option. No snoring, no body-slamming. Just saying.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical. “Is that your way of offering me your bed while you take the floor, or are you actually trying to convince me to sleep with you?” 

He grinned, unbothered by your teasing tone. “I’m offering you peace and quiet. What you make of it is up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “I’ll think about it,” you said, taking another sip of water.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Luke shouted, his voice piercing through the quiet air as he ran into the kitchen. “It’s the first day at the lake! We’re wasting perfectly good hours of sunlight here.” You glared at Luke as you chugged the water, sending him a stern look. 

Quinn sighed, walking over to put an arm around your shoulders. “I think little miss sunshine over here needs a nap.” 

“She looks more like little miss raincloud.” Luke let out with a light chuckle. You quickly stretched out your leg, sending him a kick to the shin. “What the hell-”

“Stop being a dumbass.” You interrupted with a stern tone to your voice. 

Luke rubbed his shin dramatically, his face a mix of confusion and mock offense. “We just got here, and you’re already assaulting me?” 

“Consider it a warning,” you said, setting your glass down on the counter and narrowing your eyes at him. 

Quinn chuckled, keeping his arm around your shoulders. “She didn’t sleep last night. Trevor and Cole made sure of that.” 

“I heard my name, what’s going on?” Trevor came jogging down the stairs looking way too happy for your liking.

You groaned audibly, your head dropping into your hands as Trevor bounded into the kitchen, his grin almost as obnoxious as the snoring that kept you up all night. "Why are you so chipper?" you asked, your voice dripping with exhaustion and irritation.

Trevor shrugged, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl. “Got a great night’s sleep, that’s why.” He peeled the banana, dramatically biting into it. “Man, I feel amazing.”

You glared at him, your patience wearing thinner by the second. “Oh, I’m so glad someone enjoyed their night.”

Trevor tilted his head, clearly enjoying your misery. “What’s the problem? Air mattress too lumpy for ya?”

“She’s mad because you snore like a freight train,” Quinn interjected, smirking as he leaned against the counter. “And because Cole used her mattress as a trampoline every time you kicked him off the bed.”

Trevor laughed, a full, hearty laugh that echoed through the kitchen. “That’s hilarious! Why didn’t anyone wake me up? I would’ve joined in.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious right now? I barely survived the night because of you two.”

Luke, still nursing his bruised shin, smirked from the corner. “You really should’ve just slept outside.”

“That’s it,” you said, throwing your hands up and stomping toward the doorway. “I’m finding Jack. At least he won’t mock me to my face.” 

Trevor called after you, still grinning. “Tell him we need more snacks! Oh, and maybe some earplugs for tonight!” You flipped him off without looking back, earning a loud cackle from the kitchen.

As you stepped into the living room, the sound of Jack's voice floated down from the upstairs balcony. "Yeah, I knew this would happen," he was saying, clearly talking to someone on the phone. "But hey, it’s not my problem."

You stormed up the stairs and into his room, ready to give him a piece of your mind. “Jack Hughes!” you yelled, startling him mid-sentence. He looked up at you, wide-eyed, as you jabbed a finger in his direction. “We need to talk. Now.” 

Jack stared at you, the phone still pressed to his ear as he sat up in his bed. “Uh, I’m gonna have to call you back,” he said quickly, hanging up before you could even see who he was talking to. He set the phone on the nightstand and raised his hands defensively. “Okay, okay, don’t kill me. What’s this about?” 

“What’s this about?” you repeated, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “This is about you deciding to ditch Trevor and Cole on me. I know you masterminded this. ‘For the greater good,’ my ass.” 

Jack’s lips twitched like he was fighting a smile, which only fueled your anger. “I didn’t think it’d be that bad,” he said, trying to sound innocent. “I mean, come on, they’re not that annoying.” 

You shot him a glare so intense it could’ve melted steel. “They are exactly that annoying. Trevor’s snoring was like sharing a room with a lawnmower, and Cole-” You stopped yourself, throwing your hands up. “I don’t even have words for what Cole did to my air mattress.”

Jack finally broke, laughing so hard he nearly fell off the bed. “Oh man, this is even better than I thought.” 

“It’s not funny, Jack!” you snapped, but his laughter was contagious, and you felt the corner of your mouth twitch despite yourself. 

He wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning. “Okay, fine, I’ll make it up to you. How about this, you can sleep in my room tonight. I’ll take the couch.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, weighing your options. As much as you hated giving him the satisfaction, a full night’s sleep in a decent bed sounded like heaven. “Fine,” you said, pointing at him. “But you’re on thin ice. Scoot over.” You quickly walked over to climb into bed next to Jack, making yourself comfortable under the blankets. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, grinning down at you from his sitting position. 

You looked up at him once and then closed your eyes, shifting your head against the pillow. “Taking a nap in my bed.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Your bed, huh? I don’t remember signing off on that.” 

Without opening your eyes, you muttered, “You forfeited ownership when you subjected me to Trevor and Cole. Consider this reparations.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head as he scooted over to make room. “Fine. But if you start snoring, I’m kicking you out.” 

You peeked one eye open, glaring at him. “Unlike some people in this house, I have normal human sleep habits. No snoring, no body-slamming, no dramatics.” 

Jack leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “Guess we’ll see about that.”

“Not if you don’t shut up and let me sleep,” you mumbled, already nestling deeper into the blankets. The bed was ridiculously comfortable, and the faint scent of Jack’s cologne lingering on the pillow didn’t hurt either. Within minutes, your body began to relax, exhaustion taking over. Jack stayed where he was, scrolling on his phone and glancing at you every so often. The corners of his mouth tugged upward as he watched your breathing slow, your features softening in sleep. Despite the chaos earlier, he couldn’t help but feel a little smug. As you shifted slightly, your hand brushed against his leg, and Jack froze, his gaze flicking down to where your fingers rested against his knee. A faint blush crept up his neck, but he quickly shook his head, muttering to himself. “Nope. Nope.” Still, he didn’t move, staying right where he was to make sure you got your much needed nap. After all, if you woke up cranky again, he was pretty sure you’d murder someone, and it probably wouldn’t be Trevor or Cole. Jack scrolled mindlessly on his phone, glancing at you every now and then as you slept peacefully beside him. He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at the contrast between your current state and the fiery temper you’d displayed just an hour ago. He was used to your sarcastic remarks and quick comebacks, but seeing you this calm, curled up in his bed, was different. He sighed, tossing his phone to the side and letting his head fall back against the headboard. It was still early in the day, but the lake house was already buzzing with chaos. From the sounds of it, Trevor had probably convinced Luke to start some sort of ridiculous competition outside, and Quinn was likely refereeing with an eye roll and a resigned sigh. Jack was tempted to join them, but his eyes drifted back to you. He knew you’d been looking forward to this trip as much as anyone, and now, thanks to his little prank with the room assignments, you were already worn out. Maybe he’d gone too far this time. You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent as you shifted closer to his side. Jack froze, not wanting to wake you, but when your head lightly bumped against his arm, he couldn’t stop the small smile that crept across his face.

 “Great,” he muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with mock annoyance. “Now I’m a pillow.” You didn’t respond, of course, but your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his hoodie, and Jack’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t used to this; being this close to you without the usual teasing or bickering. It felt...nice. 

The sound of the door slamming downstairs startled him, followed by Trevor’s unmistakable shout. “Jack! Where are you? It’s boatin’ time!” Jack groaned, glancing down at you. Your face scrunched up slightly at the noise, and he could tell you were seconds away from waking up. 

Before you could fully stir, Jack leaned down, his voice soft. “Do you wanna go for a boat ride or stay here longer?” 

You let out a heavy sigh, moving your head from Jack’s arm to rub your eyes. “I guess I should probably go.” He smiled down at your sleepy state, running his hand through your hair as you woke up. 

Jack’s touch was light, almost hesitant, as his fingers combed through your hair. “You sure?” he asked softly, his grin teasing but warm. “I can fend them off if you wanna sleep longer.”

You groaned, sitting up and stretching your arms above your head. “If I stay, they’ll just find a way to drag me out of here anyway,” you muttered, your voice still thick with sleep. Your eyes flicked to Jack, catching the way he was watching you. His grin softened into something gentler, and it made your stomach flip in a way you weren’t prepared for.

“Fair point,” he said, standing up and offering you his hand. “Come on, princess. Let’s go tame the animals.” You took his hand lightly, letting go as soon as you stood up. You and Jack parted ways when you reached the spare room. He made his way downstairs to the dock while you put on your bathing suit. You entered the room, not bothering to lock it since everyone was already outside. You let out a dramatic yawn, stretching your arms above your head before grabbing your swimsuit. You opted for a forest green triangle bikini with side tie bottoms. You stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment before taking off your shirt, just looking at your tired eyes. Dark circles had formed and you looked utterly exhausted. You grasped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion before removing your shorts. You slipped on the bottoms first before reaching for your top. You slipped it over your body first, then flipped the backside to the front to retie the strings. You were topless fiddling with the strings when you heard the door swing open.  

“Hey babe-” Cole stood at the door, stopping in his tracks when he caught sight of you with no top. He was like a deer in headlights, making direct eye contact with your breasts. His mouth parted slightly as his eyes widened. 

“Cole! Get out!” You yelled, knocking him back into reality. He covered his eyes with his hands as he let out a slight scream.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He cried out as he stood there with his eyes covered. “I didn’t see anything! I swear!” 

You stood there, flustered as you tried to cover yourself with your arms. “Why are you still standing there?!” You scolded. 

“I-I-I-I don’t know!” He shook his head, still standing there. 

You shook your head, letting it hang for a moment. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” You muttered. “Get out, Cole!”

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry!” He cried out, still in disbelief at what he’d just seen. He turned his body around, eyes still covered as he walked towards the door. His memory of the layout had betrayed him quickly as his head made direct contact with the door in front of him. You quickly tied your bikini top on before walking closer to him. 

You sighed, torn between annoyance and concern, as Cole stumbled slightly, rubbing his forehead. “Cole, are you okay?” you asked, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement.

He peeked through his fingers, cautiously lowering his hands when he realized you were now covered. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact as a bright blush spread across his cheeks. “Didn’t mean to barge in…I didn’t know you were in here.” As he turned to leave, the door swung open again. This time revealing Quinn, who immediately froze, taking in the scene. You in your swimsuit, Cole looking flustered and guilty. 

Quinn’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh... what’s going on here?”

Cole stammered, pointing at you as if that would somehow explain everything. “I-it’s not what it looks like!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling the headache forming. “Cole accidentally walked into the room while I was changing. End of story.” 

Quinn’s lips twitched, but he fought to keep a straight face. “Accidentally, huh?” He glanced at Cole, then back at you, his teasing smirk forming. “You sure you weren’t just trying to put on a show, sunshine?”

Your face burned as you shot him a glare. “Quinn, don’t even start.” 

Cole held up his hands, desperate to escape the situation. “I’m leaving! I’m leaving!” He practically bolted out the door, muttering apologies under his breath as Quinn stepped aside to let him pass. 

You groaned, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “If anyone makes one joke about this, I’m throwing them off the boat.” You looked up at Quinn who was wearing a perfect, teasing smile. He had his yankees hat on backwards, his canucks shirt fitting perfectly over his build. If you weren’t stressing about the moments just before, you’d be absolutely drooling over him right now. 

Quinn chuckled, pushing off the door to walk closer. “Don’t worry, I’ll back you up. But for the record...” He sat beside you, tilting his head to catch your eyes. “I don’t blame Cole for freezing. You’re kind of hard to look away from.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his tone, and you playfully shoved his shoulder. “You’re impossible.” 

He laughed, standing up and extending a hand to you. “Come on, Sunshine. Let’s go make sure Trevor hasn’t capsized the boat yet.” 

You rolled your eyes but took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “If he has, we’re throwing him in the lake.”

Quinn grinned, his hand lingering in yours for a moment longer than necessary. “Deal.” Quinn led you out of the room, his hand brushing yours as you both descended the stairs toward the dock. Outside, the sun glinted off the water, and the sound of laughter and splashing filled the air. Trevor was already in the lake, standing on the edge of the boat, waving his arms dramatically. 

“Come on!” He yelled. “We're losing precious hours of sunlight!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you and Quinn made your way down to the dock. You slipped one of Cole’s t-shirts over your head that you’d swiped from the room before heading down, not wanting to be fully exposed just yet. “O’captain o’captain,” Trevor started with a terrible fake British accent. “Come to ye mighty wheel and commandeer this ship from lord Luke.” 

You made your way onto the boat, sending Trevor a nudge that almost pushed him into the water. “Shut up.” You mumbled, taking your spot in one of the seats, isolated from everyone else. You tucked your legs underneath yourself as you leaned your elbow on the edge of the boat. 

You looked over at Trevor who rebalanced himself, jumping back into the boat with a smug grin. “Heard about your ‘bodacious rack’.” He said with a slight laugh. Your face flushed and you scoffed, turning to Cole who sat in front of you.

Fear struck his eye at the sight of your glare. “You told them that?” You scolded. 

“No, no! T-That’s not what I said.” He let out with a nervous laugh and a sheepish smile, straightening his posture. 

“Uh, that’s exactly what you said.” Luke chimed in, taking a sip of his beer. 

Your jaw dropped, a mix of shock and irritation bubbling up as you glared at Cole. “Seriously?” you said, crossing your arms. “Cole, you’ve got about five seconds to explain yourself before I toss you in the lake.” 

Cole raised his hands defensively, his face already bright red. “Wait, wait, wait! It wasn’t like that- I swear! I didn’t say it like that.” 

Trevor, of course, was grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Oh, but you did, buddy. Don’t try to backtrack now.” He mimicked Cole’s voice, dramatically exaggerated. “‘Man, I saw everything. Her whole top was down and she’s got this bodacious rack.’ Classic, Cole.” 

Luke snorted into his beer, clearly enjoying the show, while Quinn groaned from the driver’s seat, his head falling back slightly in exasperation. “Trevor, do you ever stop instigating?”

Trevor placed a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “I’m just here to deliver the truth.”

Cole stammered, his words coming out in a jumbled mess. “I-I didn’t mean it like- like that! It was…it was an observation, okay?!” His hands flew up as if that would somehow help his case. “I was just- it slipped out, and then Trevor-” He gestured wildly toward Trevor, who was enjoying this far too much. “He made it worse!”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Oh, so it’s Trevor’s fault now?”

“Absolutely!” Cole nodded enthusiastically, latching onto the lifeline. “Trevor twisted my words!” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh despite your irritation. Turning to Quinn, who was still steering the boat, you said, “Can we leave Trevor and Cole stranded on an island somewhere?”

Quinn smirked, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Tempting, but then who would provide the entertainment?”

“Jack can,” you quipped, giving Jack a pointed look. “He’s just as bad.” 

Jack raised his drink in a mock toast. “Guilty as charged.” You looked over at Trevor who was still wearing a wide smile. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you settled further into your seat, occasionally glancing over at Cole.

“Now I feel like I can’t take my shirt off.” You mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses on your head. 

Luke laughed slightly, walking over to sit next to you. “Don’t be ridiculous, bunny. You can take off your shirt.”

You looked over at him, a glare in your eye as he made himself comfortable next to you. “I really can’t.”

“It’s fine.” He said, his voice low. “You’ve done it a million times before, what’s so different about today?” You sighed, rolling your eyes once again. Reluctantly you grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt, pulling it up your body. Once you had the shirt halfway up, you glanced over at Cole. He was staring, watching as you slowly removed your shirt. His mouth was parted slightly and you could've sworn drool was going to slip out. 

“Nope, nope.” You said, still holding your shirt up. “Can’t do it.” You said glancing over at Luke. 

Jack groaned from his seat, tossing his head back slightly. “You're such a baby.”

“Look at Cole!” You pointed toward Cole, whose wide-eyed stare was a dead giveaway. 

His face turned even redder, and he immediately scrambled to defend himself. “I wasn’t- I wasn’t staring! I swear!” he stammered, his hands flailing wildly as if that would erase the moment. 

Trevor burst out laughing, practically doubling over. “Oh man, Cole, you’re making it so much worse!” 

“Exactly!” you shot back, lowering your shirt again and crossing your arms over your chest. “This is why I can’t take it off.”

Jack, who had been observing the chaos with growing impatience, groaned again. “For the love of god, we’re on a lake. You’re wearing a bikini. Just take it off and let Cole get over it already.”

“Easy for you to say!” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “No one’s staring at you.” 

Trevor perked up, his grin widening. “I could stare at Jack if it makes you feel better.” 

Jack threw a bottle cap at him. “Shut up, Trevor.”

Luke, meanwhile, nudged you lightly with his elbow. “Come on, Bunny. You’re overthinking it. It’s just us.” You sighed, glancing between Luke’s calm expression and Cole’s absolute mortification. Despite the teasing, you knew Luke was right. You’d done this a hundred times before, just not after that incident. 

“Fine,” you muttered, your voice begrudging as you peeled the shirt off in one swift motion. You avoided Cole’s gaze entirely, tossing the shirt onto Luke’s lap for good measure. “There. Happy?” 

Luke smirked, casually picking up the shirt and tossing it toward the front of the boat. “Much better.” 

“Get me a drink?” You asked, pulling your hair into a bun. Luke nodded his head, walking to the cooler and returning with a peach high noon. He handed it over before returning to his spot next to you. He splayed his arm across the back of the boat behind you as you tucked closer into his side.  You leaned back on Luke's side, your legs tucked up in front of you as you cracked open the can, staring at Quinn pulling the boat from the dock. “This is nice.” You said with a sigh of relief, leaning your head back to look up at Luke. 

Luke glanced down at you, his lips quirking into a soft smile as his arm shifted slightly to rest more securely behind you. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that it felt like it was just for you. “It is.” The boat cut smoothly through the lake, the gentle hum of the engine blending with the sound of water lapping against the hull. The sun was warm, the breeze just cool enough to keep things comfortable, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt completely at ease. 

“Hey, Sunny,” Trevor said, walking over to sit next to you.

“Oh my god.” You groaned out as he took his spot. You lifted your legs so he could sit, then rested them on his lap. “What do you want?” 

Trevor lifted his hands in mock surrender, a smug grin forming across his face. “Just wanted to apologize.”

​​You raised an eyebrow, skeptical of Trevor’s sudden attempt at sincerity. “Apologize?” you echoed, crossing your arms as your legs remained draped over his lap. “What’s the catch?”

​​Trevor placed a hand over his heart, his grin never wavering. “No catch. I just felt bad about earlier, you know, with the whole…‘bodacious rack’ thing.” He paused dramatically, glancing at Luke, who was watching him with narrowed eyes. “I realize now that my words may have caused some…discomfort.”

“Oh, you realize now?” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. 

Trevor nodded solemnly, but his playful expression betrayed him. “Absolutely. So, to make it up to you…” He leaned in closer, his grin growing wider. “I’m offering you the first push when we inevitably throw Luke into the lake.”

Luke snorted, shaking his head. “You’re really working hard to shift the blame, aren’t you?”

“Trevor, the human deflection machine,” you muttered, shaking your head as you took another sip of your drink. “Your apology could use some work.”

“Hey, I’m trying here!” Trevor said, leaning back dramatically as he adjusted your legs on his lap. “But seriously, Sunny, no hard feelings, right?” 

You studied him for a moment, his ridiculous grin and puppy-dog eyes impossible to stay mad at for long. Finally, you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine. No hard feelings.” 

Trevor pumped his fist in victory. “Yes! See, Luke? That’s how you handle things like a mature adult.”

Luke smirked, his arm brushing against your shoulder as he leaned closer. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t know maturity if it hit you in the face.”

“Bold words from the guy who’s about to be pushed in,” Trevor shot back, winking at you as if to say game on. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the chaos brewing. “You’re both children.”

“Children with impeccable charm,” Trevor quipped, holding out his fist for you to bump. 

You ignored his fist but gave him a teasing shove instead. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.” Trevor let out a gentle laugh as he leaned back in his seat. You shuffled your position, lounging further into Luke’s side. You glanced over at Cole who sat awkwardly as he talked to Jack, looking uncomfortable as ever. You frowned slightly at the sight. You were used to Cole constantly hitting on you, showering you with compliments, and you wouldn’t admit it but you missed it. “Cole!” You shouted in an attempt to gain his attention. He quickly whipped his head over to you, his face flushing slightly. “Those swim trunks look nice on you.” You said with a smirk before pushing your sunglasses further up the bridge of your nose, leaning your head back to look up at the sky. 

Cole’s eyes widened, his posture stiffening as a flush crept up his neck. “Uh- thanks,” he stammered, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. His gaze darted to Jack, who smirked knowingly, giving him a little shove.

“Relax, man,” Jack teased. “She’s just messing with you.” 

“Am I?” you replied, tilting your head slightly, your tone teasing as you kept your sunglasses on. You didn’t bother looking directly at Cole, but you could feel his nervous energy from across the boat. It was almost too easy. 

Trevor let out a low whistle, leaning forward from his seat. “Rare occurrence to see her flirting with you. Not even gonna attempt one, Caufield?” 

“Yeah, normally you treat her like she’s the love of your life.” Luke chuckled, his arm shifting slightly. 

Cole let out a heavy sigh, his face turning bright pink which he tried to cover with his sunglasses. “Alright,” He started, his voice shaky at first. “Come over here, hot stuff.” A satisfied smile wiped across your face as you got up from your spot leaning against Luke. Cole’s sudden confidence caught everyone off guard, including you. As you made your way over, you couldn’t help but smirk, your sunglasses hiding the glint of amusement in your eyes. 

“Hot stuff, huh?” you teased, standing in front of him with your arms crossed. “Big talk for someone who’s been blushing like crazy all day.” 

Cole leaned back slightly, regaining some composure now that he’d committed to the bit. “Gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I?” he replied, his voice steadier but still tinged with nervous energy. He patted the spot next to him. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging.” You glanced at the others, all of whom were watching with varying degrees of amusement. Trevor was practically bouncing in his seat, grinning insanely hard. Jack looked seconds away from gagging, and Luke raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of Cole’s sudden bravado. 

Sliding into the seat next to Cole, you leaned into him slightly, your tone dripping with mock seriousness. “So, what’s the plan now, Mr. Smooth Talker?”

Cole chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Trevor erupted into laughter, slapping his knee. “Oh man, this is gold. Caufield finally shoots his shot and fumbles it immediately.”

Jack groaned, leaning back with a hand over his face. “This is painful to watch.”

You shook your head, biting back a laugh as you leaned closer to Cole. “Relax,” you said, your voice softer now. “You’re doing fine.” 

“Fine?” Cole repeated, his confidence returning slightly. “I think I’m doing great, actually. You’re sitting here, aren’t you?” 

Luke, who had been quiet for the past few moments, finally chimed in. “Don’t get used to it, Cole. She’ll be back here in, like, two minutes.” 

You turned your head, narrowing your eyes at Luke. “Oh, really?”

Luke shrugged, his smirk smug. “Yeah. You’re just messing with him. I know how this works, Bunny.”

Cole crossed his arms, leaning back as he grinned at Luke. “Jealous, Hughes?”

Luke rolled his eyes, but you caught the slight flush creeping up his neck. “Hardly,” he muttered.

Trevor clapped his hands together, clearly living for the drama. “Alright, let’s settle this with a little wager. How long does she stay over there before she’s back at Luke’s side?”

Jack groaned louder this time, standing up. “I’m jumping in the lake. Someone let me know when this disaster ends.” As Jack dove off the side of the boat, the group erupted into laughter, the tension breaking as you leaned back against the seat, still smirking. 

“You’re all ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.

Cole grinned, nudging you lightly. “Yeah, but you love us anyway.” You couldn’t argue with that.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After a long day of sitting in the sun, swimming in the lake, and dealing with Trevor, Quinn finally pulled the boat back into the dock. The sun was already setting when you stepped off, Cole’s hand out gallantly to help. You took it gratefully as you stepped onto the dock, the air already cooling down which left you freezing in your bikini. 

“Cold?” Treavor asked, walking up next to you.

Your teeth chattered as you tried to warm your arms with your hands. “Very.”

Trevor let out a soft laugh, looking over at you. “Race you to the house.” He said before taking off, sprinting through the yard.

“Not fair, Trevor!” You giggled, following close behind him. As you took off after Trevor, the cool grass tickling your feet, you couldn’t help but laugh despite the chill creeping into your skin. The fading sunlight painted the yard in shades of orange and gold, and Trevor’s exaggerated sprint ahead of you was just enough motivation to push you to keep up. 

“Come on, Sunny!” Trevor yelled over his shoulder, his voice full of mischief. “Can’t let me win that easily!”  Trevor reached the porch first, dramatically throwing his arms in the air. “Victory is mine!” he declared, spinning around to face you as you came to a stop, slightly out of breath. “Man, you’re slow.” 

You rolled your eyes, still laughing. “You had a head start, idiot.” 

Before Trevor could respond, Jack jogged up from behind, tossing a towel over your shoulders. “Here,” he said softly, his voice a stark contrast to Trevor’s boisterous teasing. “You’re freezing.” 

You gave him a grateful smile, pulling the towel tight around yourself. “Thanks, Jack. At least someone’s a gentleman.” 

Trevor feigned offense, holding his hand to his chest. “Wow. That hurts, Sunny.”

“It’s true,” Luke said as he strolled up the steps, shaking his head. “You ditch her in a bikini to sprint to the house, and you think you’re winning points?” 

Trevor shrugged, unapologetic. “She had fun.” 

“I’m gonna hit you,” you said, your voice light despite the threat. 

“Promises, promises,” Trevor quipped, dodging past you and into the house before you could retaliate. As you stepped inside, the warm air enveloped you like a hug, and the sound of the others following behind filled the space with a cozy buzz. 

Quinn wandered in last, shaking his head at the lingering chaos. “Do you guys ever relax?” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. 

You plopped onto the couch, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself. “Relaxing is overrated,” you teased, looking up at Quinn. “Right, Quinny?” 

Quinn rolled his eyes but smirked as he tossed a sweatshirt your way. “Here. Before you start whining about being cold again.” 

“Whining?” you repeated, feigning shock as you pulled the sweatshirt over your head. “You’re lucky I like you, Hughes.” 

“Luckiest man alive,” he echoed dryly, shaking his head as he disappeared into the kitchen. You let out a sigh, sinking into the warmth of the couch. You sat back for a moment, watching Trevor and Jack laugh about something on Jack’s phone, Cole mumbling the lyrics to ‘Cardigan’ by Taylor Swift, Luke and Quinn searching the fridge for water bottles, just admiring the scene. You couldn’t have been happier anywhere else, and you were glad you finally made it to the lakehouse. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” You said, standing up from the couch. “Cole, please don’t barge in. I’ll lock the door just in case.” 

Cole, mid-verse in his rendition of Cardigan, froze, his face turning red as everyone burst out laughing. “Don’t do that!” he protested, his voice tinged with mock offense. “It was an accident!” 

Trevor smirked, leaning against the back of the couch. “Doesn’t mean we don’t expect it, lover boy.”

“Trevor, shut up,” Cole grumbled, glaring at him. “You’re the one who can’t go two minutes without harassing her.” 

“Hey, I’m just here to make her day a little brighter,” Trevor quipped, winking at you. “I’d never cross the bathroom boundary.” 

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the towel Jack had draped over you earlier. “Good to know the bar is that low. Thanks for clearing that up, Zegras.” 

Jack looked up from his phone, smirking. “Lock the door anyway. These guys are like wild animals.”

“Speak for yourself!” Luke called from the kitchen, holding up a water bottle like it was proof of his innocence. You giggled, ruffling Jack’s hair as you made your way up the stairs. 

You loved the lake, but if you were being honest, it made you feel disgusting. Sitting in the heat all day paired with swimming in water where you couldn’t see the bottom was bound to shake you up. You stepped into the shower, letting the hot water entrap your body, washing away every germ on your body. The steam from the hot water filled the small bathroom, cocooning you in warmth as the water cascaded over your skin. It was a relief, both physically and mentally, to scrub away the day’s grime. The mix of sunscreen, lake water, and sweat felt like a distant memory as you lathered soap over your skin, enjoying the sensation of being truly clean again. You tilted your head back, letting the water soak your hair, rinsing away the tangles left by the wind and water. The faint scent of your favorite shampoo filled the air, calming you further as you massaged it into your scalp. The day had been fun, filled with laughter and a little chaos, but this moment, just you and the hot water, felt like exactly what you needed to recharge. You stepped out of the shower, throwing a fresh towel over your body as you walked out of the bathroom. You headed down the hallway, hearing the faint sounds of everyone laughing. It was like music to your ears. You slipped into the spare room, making sure to lock the door behind you this time. You dropped the towel, taking a moment to fix your hair in the mirror before throwing one of Trevor’s Ducks sweatshirts over your head, along with some small athletic shorts. The soft fabric of Trevor’s sweatshirt engulfed you, its faint scent of laundry detergent and cologne oddly comforting. You smiled to yourself, knowing full well Trevor would make a big deal out of you “stealing” his sweatshirt the second he noticed. But for now, it was your little secret. You padded back down the stairs, the wood creaking softly under your bare feet. The living room came into view, and sure enough, chaos was in full swing. Trevor was standing on the couch, dramatically reenacting some story, while Cole was doubled over in laughter. Jack looked utterly unimpressed, scrolling on his phone, but the corners of his mouth twitched like he was holding back a smile. Luke was sprawled across the floor, throwing an occasional quip into the mix, and Quinn leaned against the wall, shaking his head but clearly amused. You walked over to Quinn first, wrapping your arms around his waist for a hug. You leaned your head against his chest, taking in his fresh scent. Judging by his wet hair and the warmth of his clothes, he’d also showered, unlike the other guys. 

“I’m so exhausted.” You croaked out, digging your face further into his chest.

Quinn chuckled softly, his hand instinctively resting on the back of your head as he returned the hug. “Long day, huh?” he asked, his voice low and soothing. 

“You have no idea,” you mumbled, your words slightly muffled by his shirt. “Between the lake, the sun, and Trevor being Trevor, I’m wiped.” 

He smirked, his hand brushing gently down your back before he pulled away slightly to look at you. “You still gonna have energy to deal with round two tomorrow?”

You groaned, leaning against him. “I might need to sleep for like, twenty hours first.” 

He shook his head, his smirk softening as he looked back at you. “Go sit down before you fall asleep standing up.” You nodded, letting him guide you toward the couch where Jack quickly shuffled to make room. You plopped down beside him, tucking your legs under you as you pulled Trevor’s oversized sweatshirt tighter around your body. 

“Nice sweatshirt, Sunny,” Trevor said, raising an eyebrow as he finally noticed. “Looks familiar.” 

You glanced up at him with an innocent smile. “Oh, this? No idea where it came from.” 

Jack snorted. “You’ll never get it back anyway. She’s stubborn.” 

“Exactly,” you said with a grin, leaning back and resting your head against Jack’s shoulder. “It’s mine now. Deal with it.” 

Trevor rolled his eyes but grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “Fine. But only because it looks better on you.” 

“Everything looks better on her.” Cole let out with a soft smile as he laid back on the couch.

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Smooth, Caufield. Very smooth.” The group erupted into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but smile, the exhaustion of the day melting away as you relaxed into the warmth and chaos of this little family. 

“Alright,” Quinn started, raising a hand as he stood in front of the couch. “First night at the house, what’s for dinner?”

“Pizza!” You shouted, raising both your hands in the air. 

Jack chuckled, putting his arm around your waist to pull you up closer. “Yes, pizza!” He yelled.

Quinn smirked, shaking his head at the sudden burst of energy. “Alright, pizza it is. Who’s calling it in?” 

“Not me,” Trevor said, holding his hands up defensively. “Last time I ordered, you all complained about the toppings.” 

“That’s because you thought anchovies were a good idea,” Luke quipped from his spot on the floor. “You’re banned from ordering.” 

“Hey, anchovies are a valid choice,” Trevor shot back, pointing a finger at Luke. “You’re just uncultured.”

Quinn sighed, already pulling his phone out. “Fine. What do we want?”

“Pepperoni,” Jack said immediately, his arm still casually draped around you. “Keep it classic.”

“Hawaiian,” Cole suggested, earning groans from most of the group.

“No pineapple!” you and Jack exclaimed in unison, making the others laugh. 

“Alright, alright, pepperoni and maybe a veggie for balance,” Quinn said, ignoring the chaos as he dialed the number. “Anything else?”

“Breadsticks!” Luke called out, raising his water bottle like it was a toast.

“And wings!” Trevor added, clearly back in high-energy mode.

Quinn sighed but nodded, pacing to the corner of the room as he started placing the order. “You guys are lucky I’m feeling generous.”

You leaned back against Jack, letting out a contented sigh. “See? This is why you’re my favorite, Quinn.”

“Careful, Sunny,” Trevor teased. “Jack might get jealous.”

Jack scoffed, giving your side a playful squeeze. “Please. I’m her favorite, and we all know it.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think. “Debatable.” The group laughed, and the warmth of the moment settled over you like a blanket. The boys continued their chatter as Quinn called the pizza place from the corner. You pulled out your phone as Jack moved to the corner of the couch, pulling you along with him. You rested your back against him, his arm draped around you, tracing careful circles on your skin. As you scrolled through your phone, you couldn’t help but feel the soothing rhythm of Jack’s fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. It was a small gesture, but one that anchored you amidst the playful chaos surrounding you. The hum of the boys’ voices filled the room, their laughter punctuated by Trevor’s dramatic retelling of some ridiculous story, likely exaggerated for effect. You scrolled on instagram, catching a post by the Devils of Nico and Timo. Your curiosity took over as you pressed on Nico’s tag, beginning to scroll through his profile. You smiled, looking at pictures of him back home in Switzerland. One of him crouching next to a dog in a flower field made you blush as you zoomed in on his face. 

“Why are you looking at Nico’s instagram?” Jack asked, his voice quiet.

“Why are you looking at my phone?” You snapped back, leaning your head up to look at him. 

Jack raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “You’re on my teammate’s profile, zooming in on his face. It’s hard not to notice.” 

You huffed your breath, setting your phone down. “Maybe, if you just let me have a shot at him I wouldn’t-”

“Oh no, no, no,” He interrupted. “No way in hell am I gonna let you do that. We’ve been over this.” 

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back to fully face him, his arm still resting loosely around you. “Excuse me?” you said, your tone dripping with mock offense. “Let me? Since when do you get to decide who I can or can’t date?” 

Jack’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a stubborn set to his jaw. “Since it’s Nico,” he said firmly, his voice low. “He’s not some random guy you can flirt with. He’s my captain. My teammate.” 

“And?” you countered, crossing your arms. “What does that have to do with me? It’s not like I’m asking for your permission.” Jack groaned, running a hand through his hair. “What, are you worried I’d distract him? Or embarrass you?” 

“No!” Jack said quickly, but the flicker of guilt in his expression made you narrow your eyes. 

“Wow, that’s exactly what it is, isn’t it?” you said, your voice laced with disbelief. “You think I’d embarrass you.” 

Jack sighed, his hand still tracing slow circles on your arm as if trying to calm the brewing storm. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” you pressed, your voice softer now but still holding its edge.

Jack hesitated, his eyes flickering down to where his hand rested on your arm. “I just…It’s complicated, princess. Just- shit I'd rather not get into right now.” He said, his hand moving to rub his face. You softened slightly at Jack’s uncharacteristic hesitation. It wasn’t often he struggled to find the words, and the way his hand rubbed his face told you he was trying to bury something deeper than the surface-level teasing you were used to.

“It’s complicated?” you repeated, your tone quieter now, curiosity lacing your words. “Jack, you know that’s not gonna fly with me. Just spit it out.” 

Jack sighed, dropping his hand from his face to rest it on the back of the couch. “It’s just… weird, okay? You and Nico. I can’t explain it.” 

You tilted your head, studying him as he avoided your gaze. “Weird how? Like, you’re protective of him? Or…?” You trailed off, waiting for him to fill the silence. 

Jack let out a frustrated laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, alright? I don’t want to see you with him. It’s not about Nico. It’s about…you.” 

Your stomach flipped at his words, but you kept your expression neutral. “About me?”

Jack finally met your eyes, his gaze steady and uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah. About you. I’m used to having you around, and I don’t want anything to change.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden vulnerability. “Jack-”

“It’s stupid, okay?” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could say more. “Just forget I said anything.” 

You shook your head, sitting up straighter. “No, it’s not stupid. Jack, if you’re trying to tell me something, just say it. I’m not gonna bite.”

He groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. “It’s not that easy.” 

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Then make it easy. It’s me, Jack. You can tell me.” Jack sighed again, his eyes flicking back to yours. For a moment, he looked like he was on the verge of saying something, but then Trevor’s loud voice broke through the tension. 

“Hey! Pizza’s here!” Trevor yelled from the front door, his excitement cutting through the quiet.

Jack immediately pulled away, the moment dissipating as he ran a hand down his face again. “Saved by the bell,” he muttered, standing up and avoiding your gaze. You stayed on the couch, watching him go as your mind raced. There was something there, something he wasn’t ready to admit, but the weight of his words lingered, leaving you wondering what exactly he was holding back. 

“You good, bunny?” Luke asked, standing in front of you as you processed the interaction with Jack.

“Yeah, yeah. I-I’m good.” You stammered out, getting up from your seat on the couch. 

Luke smiled, placing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close. “Good. We have a pizza to demolish.” He said, shaking you slightly in his arm. ​​You laughed softly, allowing Luke to guide you toward the dining area where the rest of the guys were already gathering around the table. Trevor was handing out plates with exaggerated flair, Cole was busy inspecting the pizza boxes like he was on quality control duty, and Quinn was unboxing the breadsticks with the precision of a surgeon. Jack was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. His expression was unreadable, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment before he turned his attention back to the pizza. You felt a twinge in your chest, but Luke’s arm around your shoulders helped ground you.

“Sunshine, c’mere.” Quinn said from the counter where he unboxed the breadsticks. You escaped Luke’s grasp, skipping over towards where Quinn stood. You got up next to him, putting your face close to his as he looked down at the box. 

“What’s up?” You asked playfully.

“Got these just for you,” He said, holding up two small containers of ranch. “Don’t let Cole see ‘em.” He laughed quietly before slipping them into the pocket of your hoodie.

You beamed at Quinn, his quiet thoughtfulness making your chest warm. “You’re the best,” you said, slipping your arms around his waist for a quick hug. 

“Don’t let that get out,” he teased, patting the top of your head affectionately. “Gotta keep my reputation intact.” 

Trevor, never one to miss a beat, leaned against the counter dramatically. “I feel like I’m missing out on a secret conspiracy. Sunny, spill the tea.” 

“Um there is no tea,” you replied, grabbing a slice of pizza and making your way back to the table. “Unless you count Quinn looking insanely good handling those breadsticks.” 

Trevor’s jaw dropped in mock shock as the rest of the table erupted into laughter. “Whoa, whoa, pause. Is this the first time you’ve hit on Quinn outside the group chat?” Trevor asked, pointing dramatically between you and Quinn. Quinn, unfazed, smirked and shook his head, placing the breadsticks on the table.

Jack, who had been leaning back in his chair, finally chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, princess, tell us more about Quinn’s breadstick skills.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting into your pizza. “Don’t be jealous, Hughes. It’s not a good look on you.”

Jack’s smirk faltered, his brow arching slightly as he stared you down. “Jealous? Of him?” He gestured toward Quinn. “I don’t need breadsticks to be the favorite.” 

“Debatable,” Luke quipped from his spot, grinning. “Quinn’s got the ranch hookup. That’s game changing.”

“Thank you, Luke!” you said, gesturing toward him with your slice. “Finally, someone understands the value of ranch.” 

Cole, however, narrowed his eyes suspiciously, leaning forward in his chair. “Wait. Ranch? Where’s the ranch?” 

“Uh, nowhere,” you said quickly, pulling the hoodie pocket closer to your body. Cole’s gaze darted toward Quinn, then back to you.

Quinn raised his hands in mock innocence. “Don’t look at me, Caufield. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“There’s no ranch,” you said firmly, though the slight smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. The dinner consisted of stories about past summers, laughs over things Cole had said, Luke attempting to do a backflip in the kitchen which ended with a face plant to the floor and a “You’re gonna get injured before the season even starts” from Quinn. You smiled, taking in the scene before you, just grateful you made it to this moment. After you all finished with dinner, everyone made their way to the back deck for a bonfire while you and Quinn stayed back to clean up. The soft hum of laughter and chatter drifted in from the back deck as you and Quinn gathered plates and empty pizza boxes. The kitchen felt warm, not just from the remnants of the oven’s heat but from the lingering joy of the evening. You caught Quinn’s eye as he stacked a few plates, his expression calm and content.

“Hey, is Jack acting…weird- to you?” You asked, cutting Quinn off guard as he finished stacking the plates. 

Quinn paused, his hand hovering over the stack of plates as he turned to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Weird how?” he asked, his tone steady but curious. 

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I don’t know, he’s just been... quieter than usual. And earlier, he said some stuff that didn’t really make sense. Like, he wanted to say something but couldn’t.” 

Quinn tilted his head, considering your words. “Jack’s always been a little hard to read. But yeah, now that you mention it, he did seem a little off tonight.”

You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms. “It’s like he’s holding something back, but I can’t figure out what. It’s...frustrating.” 

Quinn’s eyes softened as he studied your face. “You two are close. Maybe he’s trying to work through something but doesn’t know how to talk about it yet.” 

“Maybe,” you murmured, your gaze drifting toward the back door where the sound of Trevor’s exaggerated laugh carried through. “I just feel like there’s something I’m missing.”

Quinn set the plates aside and turned to face you fully, his expression calm and reassuring. “Give him some time. If it’s important, he’ll talk to you when he’s ready. Jack’s stubborn, but he’s not one to keep things bottled up forever.” 

You smiled faintly, appreciating his steady presence. “Thanks, Quinny. You always know what to say.” 

He smirked, bumping your shoulder lightly. “Someone’s gotta keep the peace around here.” The two of you stood there in silence for a moment. Quinn, glancing down at the floor, fiddling with the keys in his pocket and you, crossing your arms as you stared into the living room entryway. “Listen, sunshine,” He started, breaking the silence. “There’s something i’ve been wanting to talk to you about-”

Before he could continue, Trevor’s voice rang out from the deck, louder than before. “Sunny! Quinn! Stop being lame and get out here! The marshmallows are calling!” 

Quinn let out a sigh, pushing off from his spot against the counter. “We’ll talk later.” You nodded, though curiosity flickered in your chest at Quinn’s abrupt pause. He gave you a small, reassuring smile before heading toward the back deck, the sound of Trevor’s persistent shouting growing louder as he opened the door. You followed close behind, filing the moment away in your mind to revisit later. The deck was alive with the glow of the fire and the warm energy of the group. Luke was busy toasting marshmallows, though half of his attempts ended up charred. Trevor was narrating his process like he was on a cooking show, while Cole argued about the correct marshmallow-to-chocolate ratio for the perfect s’more. Jack, as usual, lingered on the edge of the chaos, leaning against the railing with his hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket. You grabbed a chair near the fire, letting the warmth soak into your skin as the cool lake breeze rustled through the trees. Jack’s quiet demeanor didn’t escape your notice, and your earlier conversation with Quinn lingered in your mind. After a while, Quinn sat beside you, nudging your knee with his. “Feeling better?” he asked, his voice low enough to stay between the two of you. You nodded, glancing at him with a faint smile. 

Trevor’s loud laughter broke through your moment, drawing your attention back to the group. “Jack!” he called, pointing dramatically at his friend. “Stop brooding over there and make a damn s’more.” 

Jack rolled his eyes, pushing off the railing and walking over. “I’m not brooding.”

“Sure,” Luke said with a smirk, handing Jack a marshmallow. “That’s why you’ve been staring at the fire like it owes you money.” Jack snorted, but his gaze flickered to you briefly before he sat down across the fire. You caught his look and held it for a second, a silent question hanging between you, but he quickly turned his attention to skewering the marshmallow.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The night air had grown cooler, and the flickering embers of the fire cast long shadows as you stretched, feeling the day’s exhaustion settle into your bones. Cole and Luke had already disappeared inside, their playful banter fading into the house as they headed to bed. Quinn had followed not long after, muttering something about being the responsible one and making sure the fire was fully out. You, Jack, and Trevor were the last to carry your tired bodies inside. You walked into the house next to Trevor while Jack followed not far behind. You rubbed your eyes, ready to get a real goodnight's sleep, unlike the night before. 

Trevor let out an exaggerated yawn as he reached the spare room, quickly moving to give you a side hug. “G’night, Sunny.”

“Night, Trev.” You said, your voice raspy as you craved sleep. You released yourself from Trevor’s hug, mirroring his yawn as you walked. You made your way to Jack’s room, your hand just barely touching the doorknob before he spoke up behind you.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice low but laced with a sort of sterness you’d never heard from him.

You turned to face him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Uh…going to bed?” You replied with a sassy tone. 

Jack rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “That’s my room.”

You scoffed, moving away from the door. “Yeah, obviously. This morning you said-”

“Yeah, but I decided I want to sleep in my bed tonight.” 

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms in defiance. “Oh, so now you’re kicking me out?”

Jack shrugged, leaning casually against the wall. “Pretty much.” 

You groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “Jack, I’m exhausted. Just let me crash in your bed. You can take the couch.” 

“No.”

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to not make eye contact. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you tonight,” You said, tilting your head back down to face him. “I don’t know what kind of shit you’ve got going on in your life that you won’t talk to me about, but don’t take it out on me.” 

Jack pushed himself off the wall, his expression growing meaner. “The kind of shit I've got going on doesn’t concern you.” (IT TOTALLY DOES) He said with a nasty tone as he moved closer to you. “Go sleep in the bed you were given at the beginning of this trip.” Your jaw clenched at his words, and you could feel the sting of them settle in your chest. Jack had always been quick with his sarcasm, but this felt different, harsher, colder. You took a small step back, crossing your arms tightly across your chest like you were shielding yourself. 

“Wow,” you said, your voice quieter now but still firm. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to care about you anymore.” Jack flinched at your words, his mean exterior cracking for just a moment. He opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a hand, cutting him off. “Whatever,” you said, shaking your head as you turned toward the hallway. “I don’t need this right now, Jack. Sleep wherever the hell you want.” You heard the door slam as you made your way down the hallway, your blood boiling with every stomp of your foot. You made it to the spare room, cracking the door slightly to get a look at Trevor and Cole. Trevor was man-spreading over the entire bed, snoring even louder than last night. You looked down to see Cole on your air mattress which was fully deflated at this point. You let out a sharp sigh, not knowing where to go.

“My room’s always an option. No snoring, no body-slamming. Just saying.” Quinn’s words from this morning echoed in your mind as you took in the scene in front of you. The thought of Quinn’s offer lingered, a tempting alternative to the chaos of the spare room and the sting of Jack’s harsh words. You closed the door quietly, leaning against it for a moment to steady your racing thoughts. The day’s exhaustion tugged at your body, and all you wanted was a peaceful place to sleep. With a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the door and made your way toward Quinn’s room, your steps quiet as the house settled into silence. When you reached his door, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the handle. Is this a bad idea? you wondered, biting your lip. But the muffled sound of Trevor’s snoring and the image of your deflated air mattress pushed you to turn the knob. The door creaked softly as it opened, revealing Quinn’s room in complete pitch black darkness.

You carefully walked over to the edge of the bed, seeing Quinn with his eyes closed and his hair tousled against the pillow. “Quinn,” You whispered. He stirred slightly at the sound of your voice, his eyes fluttering open as he turned his head toward you. The dim light from the hallway illuminated his face just enough for you to see his sleepy confusion.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, his voice groggy. “What’s up?” 

You quickly moved your knees onto the bed. “Scooch over.” Quinn let out a soft smile through his closed eyes as you pulled the comforter over your body. “Cole took over my air mattress.”

Quinn let out a low chuckle, his voice still thick with sleep. “Of course he did,” he muttered, shifting slightly to give you more space. His arm brushed against yours as he adjusted the blanket, the warmth of his presence instantly comforting. 

“Thanks,” you murmured, sinking into the mattress. The bed was far more comfortable than your deflated air mattress had ever been, and you couldn’t help but sigh in relief. 

He turned slightly, lying on his side to face you. The faint glow from the hallway cast just enough light for you to catch the gentle amusement in his eyes. “You gonna steal all the blankets, or are we sharing?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I’ll share, but no promises if I get cold.”

Quinn chuckled again, his hand tugging the comforter up over your shoulders. “Fair enough.” As the silence settled between you, the warmth of the bed and the quiet intimacy of the moment began to sink in. You shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, and your leg brushed against Quinn’s. The faint contact made your heart skip, but before you could move away, his arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“Better?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught for a moment, but the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of his breathing calmed you. “Yeah,” you said softly, relaxing into his hold. “Much better.” Quinn’s fingers rested lightly against your back, his touch gentle and unassuming. You let your head rest against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling you into a sense of calm you hadn’t felt all day. His other hand came up to rest lightly against your shoulder, holding you close but not overwhelming.

“You’re warm,” you mumbled, your voice heavy with exhaustion as you nestled closer. 

He let out a soft hum, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Guess I’m good for something.” You smiled against him, the tension of the day melting away as you let yourself relax fully in his arms. His presence was steady, grounding, and you couldn’t help but feel safe as the quiet of the room wrapped around you both.

“Goodnight, Sunshine,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet fondness.

Well, Cole’s strong. He’d find a way.

Your hand moves to curl around his bicep. He holds the remote with this hand, arm dangling partially off the couch. The smooth skin of his inner arm calls to you, your thumb finding the vulnerable vein that pops away from his skin. You can almost feel the blood running through it and even in the dark with the television glowing all different colors from scene to scene, you can see the light blue tint of the vein against his pale skin. You trace the flowing line, mimicking the pace of his back rubs.

Cole’s lips lift into a smile. You’re aware of it, even with your head on his chest and face turned toward the television. He kisses the top of your head and halts his movements, bringing his hand to the small of your back and resting it there.

You whine at the loss and turn to look at him, resting your chin between his pecs. You’re laying atop him, like you often do on movie night. You’re not sure how or when the position became your go-to, but Cole always reclines back on the pillows and beckons you forward, encouraging and sometimes imploring you to crawl into his space.

He’s shirtless today, firm muscle radiating heat. His favorite black joggers hug his thighs and his crotch, creating a delicious picture that you couldn't help but invade. He looks good enough to eat – instead, you’ve decided to cuddle. You’re in a cotton pajama set with cartoon blue whales dotting the white background.

“Such a diva,” Cole teases. “I stop rubbing your back for two seconds and you get all pouty?”

“You’re the exact same,” you say, returning your head to its place on his sternum. “You squish me in bed if I stop spooning you.”

Cole laughs quietly. “I’m just rolling over.”

“That’s what you say every time,” you grumble, then press your lips to Cole’s chest so he knows you’re playing around. You don’t mind when he crushes you in bed because he’ll pepper your face with kisses until you’re squealing and wiggling away. Then, he’ll kiss down your neck and dig his fingers into your side until you wheeze with laughter. Sometimes, you stop spooning him just to get that treatment.

The movie playing on the TV is some action flick, Cole’s choice this week, and the loud sounds emanating from the speakers are distracting more than anything. You don’t know how you’re supposed fall asleep after watching fight scenes and explosions and gunshots, so you turn your head away from the television and shift, tucking your face into Cole's neck and inhaling his natural musk.

He starts to rub your back again, raising goosebumps on your arms and sending shivers throughout your body. You feel tingly, fuzzy almost. His touch is soothing and soft, just like his presence in your life. You’re so comfortable with Cole, in love with his bright smile and deep dimples and carefree attitude. He’s so go-with-the-flow that it combats your need for routine and makes you more easygoing. Cole benefits too – your planning keeps him in line for the fun things in life, like date nights and grocery trips.

You hum against his pulse, pursing your lips and leaving a lingering kiss on the thick column of Cole’s throat. His chest rises with a breath and you press another onto his skin, opening your mouth and gently sucking a mark beneath his jawline. Your eyes are closed, breathing even.

You’re not marking Cole to excite him. That’s just a fun perk.

As small hickeys blossom over Cole’s skin, his hand grows heavier on your back. His touches are loaded, as are your kisses, and your next kiss falls on his lips.

With the movie forgotten, your mouth slots against Cole’s over and over. He tastes like your dinner, a protein-heavy taco bowl, but you chase the taste instead of pulling away. Cole chuckles as your tongue dives into his mouth, taking control. He places his hands on your hips and leaves them there, abandoning the remote on the side table. Your palms go flat on his collarbone and cradle his face respectively.

His smile quirks and you lap at his soft flesh, gently nibbling his bottom lip.

“Needy,” Cole whispers between kisses.

“Bothered?” you ask, a wet smack echoing between you.

“Never.”

Cole helps you change position, your knees now bracketing his hips and his bulge prominently resting beneath your wanting core. You bend at the waist, unwilling to part with Cole’s talented tongue for even a second.

His grip guides your bottom half, as your touch maneuvers his head.

It's the same motion: up, down. Up, down. Up... and down.

Cole shudders beneath you and you realize what he’s doing – pulling your hips over his cock, stimulating himself through your clothes, a warmth building between your bodies.

His cock has swelled, impressive for his size and mouth-watering when bared before your face. It seeks your wet hole like a moth to a flame, even with multiple layers separating the two. 

You part from him momentarily, threading his wavy hair through your fingers. You scratch Cole’s scalp, seeing his eyelashes flutter from enjoyment and head tip back. Smiling, you roll your hips. 

“Shit, babe,” he murmurs, seemingly torn between increasing your pace and halting you entirely. His fingertips bore into your sides. “What’s gotten into you?”

You exchange a kiss. “Nothing, really,” you reply. “Wanna see my pretty boy come in his pants.”

Cole’s eyebrows lift to his hairline.

You laugh, erasing his shock with a few languid licks into his mouth. Once Cole is pliant beneath you, hands sliding to grasp your behind and tug you closer, you begin to move again. You kiss him with your whole body, your beings intertwining from sheer proximity. Cole groans into your mouth and you rock into him, your wetness seeping into your panties and his natural urge for more, more, more manifesting in small blurts of precum that dampen the front of his joggers. 

You rock against each other, giving and taking and kissing all the time. The space between your legs is full, Cole’s friction satisfying but far from enough.

At least... for you.

Cole makes a guttural noise, one that plants deep in your chest and roots itself. You pull back and kiss down his neck, leaving a wet trail as far as you can reach. He throws his head back and bucks his hips. You bounce in place, biting your bottom lip to keep from whimpering as his cock nudges your clit.

“You gonna make a mess, baby?” you tease, running a light hand over Cole’s chest. You brush his left nipple with your right hand, flicking over the bud with your thumbnail. “Y’feel so good you’re going to come in your pants, make ‘em all white and wet for me?”

“Motherfucker.” Cole shivers and squeezes his eyes shut, front teeth visibly biting down to steel himself.

You emulate his own go-to move, fishing his lip free and soothing it with a sweet kiss. Your grinding is downright dirty, juxtaposing the pace between yours and Cole’s mouths. He can't decide which sensation to dive into – he switches between kissing you feverishly and letting you move your hips freely, and mouthing uselessly against your lips, jaw, and neck while his lower half dominates the moment. Whimpering when Cole's shaft nestles in your slit, running from your hole to your clit and back again, he shoves his hands beneath your pajama bottoms to get flesh on flesh.

Cole drags you forward once, twice, three times, and on the fourth, a new wetness spreads between your bodies. You both moan at the same time at the same pitch, with Cole pursuing his climax and the aftershocks and you aiming to join him.

He’s hyper-sensitive after coming, always is. You gyrate against his cock as long as he’ll let you, only stopping when he keens against you and pinches your hips like a nonverbal warning.

You pout slightly, so close to your orgasm but delayed by Cole’s discomfort.

He apologizes with a kiss. “Sorry,” Cole mumbles, massaging your side with his dexterous fingers. “Here, baby, lay down. Make it even, yeah?”

You switch places with him, laying your head on a pillow and accepting Cole’s weight between your legs. You’re braless beneath your pj set and Cole takes advantage of your hardened nipples, pinching and rolling them between the pads of his thumbs and forefingers. You arch into him, relenting to his insistent tongue and lips, and go to wrap your legs around his waist. Cole stops you.

“Spread ‘em,” he instructs, an easy smile brightening his face. He’s got a post-nut glow around him, giddiness touching his features. It makes you want to giggle, the pairing of the twinkle in his eye and the rapidly drying stain on the front of his favorite pair of athleisure-wear.

You grin and kick your legs out wide, ankle hooking over the back of the sofa. You’re still in your pajama shorts and panties, but they're loose enough that Cole simply pulls them to the side and dips his middle finger into your cunt, sheathing his digit past his second knuckle.

He pumps it steadily from the get-go, a mirthful smirk transforming his expression into something more evaluating, examining. Cole watches your reaction carefully, cataloguing each contortion and flexed muscle.

You run your fingers over your neck sensually, then eye Cole.

He shakes his head knowingly. You frown in an exaggerated, clownish way, but Cole guffaws quietly. He reaches out and fiddles with the top button on your pajama top, unfastening it and spreading the cotton so he can see the expanse of your collarbones. He pulls away and places his free hand on your knee by his side.

A flush creeps over your cheeks and neck, squirming at his intense attention.

Cole looks you up and down, quirking an eyebrow.

Wordlessly, you understand his desire and unbutton the rest of the buttons on your top. You spread the shirt panels until your chest is completely bare, Cole’s pupils dilating when he makes eye contact with your tits. You cup the warm flesh in your hands and knead your skin, paying extra attention to your sensitive nipples and putting on a show for your boyfriend.

To make things even, to torture you as much as you're torturing him, Cole adds another finger to your heat and rubs circles over your clit with his thumb.

You sigh, allowing your eyelids to drift shut, and pinch your pebbled buds. You can see, in your mind's eye, Cole’s arm veins bulging and muscles flexing as his fingers wiggle over your sweet spot. His heavy gaze weighs on you. You’re intimately aware of Cole: his thick digits inside you, his gentle caress over your inner thigh, his presence between your legs.

“Such a pretty girl,” Cole breathes reverently. “All mine, huh?”

You blink and look at him through your lashes. Your line-of-sight flickers to the mess on the front of his pants, then back up. You cock your head to the side and deadpan, “Says the boy who came from a little dry humping.”

He laughs, but you continue.

“I mean, honestly, Cole–” You jolt when he probes your g-spot, rubbing it insistently. “I’m all yours, but I haven’t even come?”

Cole leans down and shuts you up with a kiss, moving to suck a matching hickey over your carotid. He shuffles back on his knees, sucking a nipple into his mouth. He licks over it eagerly before abandoning it to go even lower. His lips grace your ribs, your stomach, your abdomen, and your hip prior to fastening around your clit and slurping it into his mouth.

His tongue swirls over the moist bundle of nerves, suction pulling you to orgasm like a lasso around your neck. You writhe on the couch, fisting Cole’s golden waves until he releases a strangled moan and shoves a third finger into your cunt, curling all three and pulsing them against the spongy spot that always makes you unravel.

“Fuck,” you squeak in a high voice, legs shaking and trying to close around Cole’s head. The corners of his lips lift in a smile and he continues suckling, pumping his fingers through your aftershocks before drawing them from your wetness and wiping them on the fabric of your pajama bottoms.

“Payback,” he chuckles before wrapping his lips around your clit again and giving it one final suck, just to hear you squeal from over sensitivity. He covers your spent pussy with your panties and bottoms and crawls up your body, laying atop you how you laid on his chest.

The credits of the movie started scrolling minutes ago. You missed the final act completely, but you can’t find it in yourself to rewind and watch it back. Cole can’t either, it seems.

He wraps his arms around your middle and kisses each of your breasts before laying his head on the swell of them like a pillow.

“You’re crushing me,” you faux-complain.

Cole sighs loudly, pushing himself up so he can start attacking your face with his lips.

your job with the montreal canadiens wasn't exactly one that most people expect. one that actually most people probably shouldn't even know about if you're really thinking about it.

you're not a team therapist, or a trainer, or even in management or communications. you're known as the team's stress relief. and by stress relief; you're there for the players to fuck when they need to let out a little energy or stress.

which leads you to where you are now. the locker room sometimes isn't the most comfortable place to have sex, but sometimes you have to make do with what you've got. especially if more than one player is gonna be taking their turn on you.

you're currently on your hands and knees on the carpeted floor. cole's cock is in your grip, guiding it to your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip before hollowing your cheeks and taking him as deep as your throat would allow you to.

arber was on his knees propped up behind you. his hands were gripped tight on your hips as he was already pounding into you. everyone knows he's had it rough with games over the past couple of months, being in and out of the lineup constantly. so, he had the most stress and frustration to let out.

he was also being the most vocal about it. at first it started as little grunts or hisses when your walls clenched around him, sucking his cock further into your warm pussy. then it turned into real words.

'fuck, you feel so good, baby.' he groaned.

'she's perfect.' cole whimpered, throwing his head back as you licked a stripe from the base to the tip of his cock, sucking the tip back into your waiting mouth.

you moaned around him as arber hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. the feeling sent vibrations and a new sensation up through cole's entire body, making him cry out. arber grinned, speeding up his thrusts, directly aiming for that spot now.

even though you were there to be used by them, they still took the liberties to give you pleasure as well. it did make them feel good to make you feel good.

'hey, if she's so perfect, you mind sharing?' kaiden called out from where him and juraj were sitting and waiting for their turns.

'fuck off.' arber growled, landing a smack on the soft skin of your ass.

cole's grip tightened in your hair, turning it into a makeshift ponytail, beginning to facefuck you. you gagged and choked on his cock, spit beginning to drool down your chin. you didn't wear mascara, but you're sure if you did, it would be down your face with how much eyes were watering.

the sight was enough to send him over the edge, and then he was spilling down your throat with nothing more than a sharp breath and no warning.

you worked your throat, swallowing it, using your tongue to lap up the drops that were spilling out the sides of your mouth and the last few coming out of his cock.

'that's it, baby.' arber whispered in your ear. 'taking it so well. letting us use you like this.'

you clenched down, coming around his cock with a small spasm. he followed right after, spilling inside the condom he was wearing inside of you.

you didn't take much time to recover once he pulled out. you still had two more to go. you crawled over on your hands to where kaiden was sitting in his stall. then you moved yourself up so you were straddling his lap.

he'd already rolled a condom on, so you lined his cock up with your entrance and then sank down onto him until his cock was fully seated inside your pussy.

he gripped his hands tight on your hips. you both stayed still for a minute, getting adjusted to the feeling. then you felt juraj's presence behind you.

'can you lift for me, laska?' he whispered in your ear.

kaiden helped you shift forward. you inhaled sharply as your clit brushed his pelvic bone. juraj opened you up with a couple fingers first before slowly and gently guiding his cock in next to kaiden's.

they both gave you another minute to adjust after that. then, they started moving. when juraj would thrust forward, you'd end up bouncing on kaiden's cock. when you bounced on your own, juraj would hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars.

they set a rhythm that worked for them, moving you back and forth in between the two of you like you were a ragdoll. juraj was also a big tits guy, so of course one of his hands; the one that wasn't stabilizing you, came around and cupped your breasts, toying with your nipples.

he mostly just grunted and occasionally let out the tiniest bit of praise into your ear from behind you. but it was kaiden who was the dirty talker.

'you like that, huh? letting us use you like this? like the little slut that you are?' he hissed at you.

you whimpered, nodding, your clit brushing over his pelvis again as juraj's thrust sent you forward.

'yeah, i knew it. you like being treated like a whore, don't you?' he teased.

you nodded, again, taking two of his fingers into your mouth when he brushed them across your lips. your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the pleasure and the good sensations you were getting from all angles.

since juraj was stabilizing you on kaiden's lap, kaiden used his other hand to reach between your bodies and play with your clit that was brushing against him, rubbing furious circles into your bundle of nerves.

'you gonna come?' kaiden whispered.

arber and cole were still watching you intently, own cocks in their hands now because of course watching you got them hard again. you nodded, making eye contact with cole.

'then come for us.' juraj whispered into your ear behind you.

you came with a cry, clenching down around the both of them. your body shaking with overstimulation and pure pleasure. your cunt spasmed, pushing both their cocks out as both kaiden and juraj came at the same time.

your head fell forward, forehead falling to kaiden's shoulder as his arms came around you, brushing the back of your hair down.

'we got you. you're okay.' he whispered.

juraj leaned down, kissing the top of your head as arber handed him a warm washcloth to clean you up with. cole was gathering your clothes up for you.