#devils fic

Morning coffees dropped off after early skates because “Jack forgets to eat.” Extra tickets passed along from the family rep when your schedule lined up with home stands. The occasional team dinner where you sat between your brothers and laughed so easily that Nico found himself watching instead of talking.

You were warm in a way that filled space. Effortless. Kind. Completely off limits.

So he did what he always does when something matters too much.

He kept his distance.

Or at least he tried.

“Dude.”

Nico looks up from re-tying his skate to find Jack staring at him across the locker room, suspicion written all over his face.

“Yes?”

Jack squints. “Why do you get weird when my sister’s here?”

Nico’s hands still for half a second. “I don’t get weird.”

“You do,” Luke chimes in from the next stall over. “You go, like… extra polite.”

“I am always polite.”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “But you do that captain voice. The customer service one.”

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

Jack leans back, unconvinced. “You called her ma’am yesterday.”

“It slipped.”

“You’re twenty-five.”

“Yes.”

“She’s twenty-three.”

“I know how old she is,” Nico says before he can stop himself.

Both Hughes brothers freeze.

Nico immediately regrets everything.

Jack’s eyes narrow to slits. “Why do you know how old she is?”

Because he knows your birthday. Because he’d memorized it without trying the first time he heard you mention it over dinner. Because he remembers how you’d laughed when Luke smeared cake frosting on your cheek and you’d chased him around the kitchen like you were still kids.

Because he notices everything about you and wishes he didn’t.

“I know many things,” Nico says weakly.

Luke leans forward, interested now. “That was suspicious.”

“It was not suspicious.”

“It was suspicious,” Jack confirms.

Nico stands abruptly, grabbing his helmet. “I am going on the ice.”

“You’re already dressed,” Luke points out.

“Yes,” Nico says, backing toward the door. “That is why.”

He escapes to the rink with his heart beating too fast and the distinct feeling that his life expectancy has shortened.

—

You find him after practice.

He should have known you would. You always gravitate toward the quieter spaces in arenas, the hallways that smell faintly of tape and coffee, the corners where the noise fades into a hum. He’s halfway through unlacing his skates in the tunnel when he hears your voice.

“Hi, Nico.”

He looks up, and there you are, leaning against the wall like you belong there. You always do. Jeans, Devils hoodie, hair slightly wind-tangled from outside. You smile at him the same way you always have, open and warm and entirely unaware of what you do to him.

“Hi,” he says, and immediately hears the problem. Too soft. Too careful.

You tilt your head. “Why do you talk to me like I’m a substitute teacher?”

He blinks. “What?”

“You get all formal.” You step closer, amused. “You call me ma’am. You say things like good afternoon. You don’t do that with anyone else.”

“I am respectful,” he says, which is true but not the truth.

“You’re respectful to everyone. I’m talking about me.”

He can’t answer that without detonating his life.

You study him for a second, then your expression shifts, curiosity softening into something gentler. “Did I do something? Like, are you uncomfortable with me around all the time? Because if I’m crashing your space—”

“No.” The word comes out sharp enough that you startle. Nico immediately gentles his voice. “No. You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why—”

“Because,” he says before he loses his nerve completely, “you are Jack and Luke’s sister.”

You blink. “Okay…?”

“And they are… how you say…” He searches for the word, gives up. “Very intense about you.”

You huff a laugh. “They’re intense about everything.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “But especially you.”

“That’s their problem.”

“It becomes my problem if I make it my problem,” he says quietly.

You go still.

Understanding slides slowly into place across your face, and with it something else. Something warmer. “Oh,” you say.

Nico’s pulse pounds. He should stop talking. He should absolutely stop talking.

He does not stop talking.

“I respect them,” he continues, voice low. “And you. And your family. So I keep distance.”

Your eyes search his. “Because…?”

Because I want you. Because I have since the first night you fell asleep on the team bus with your head on my shoulder and I didn’t move for two hours. Because every time you smile at me I forget entire plays.

He swallows. “Because it is safer.”

“For who?”

“Everyone,” he says.

You’re very close now. Close enough that he can see the tiny flecks of color in your eyes, the way your breath catches slightly when you look at his mouth and then back up. “Nico,” you say softly, “do you think I don’t notice?”

His brain empties. “Notice what?”

“You.” A small, helpless smile curves your lips. “The distance. The captain voice. The way you never touch me unless it’s, like, a team photo. The fact you look at me and then immediately look away.”

He feels heat crawl up his neck. “I am subtle.”

“You’re really not.”

Silence stretches between you, charged and fragile.

“You could just talk to me,” you say finally. “I’m not them.”

“I know,” he says. “That is the problem.”

Your breath catches again. “Why is that a problem?”

Because you might say yes.

He takes a step closer before he can stop himself, drawn in by the gravity of you. “Because if you are only their sister, I am safe,” he says. “If you are you… I am not.”

Your eyes flick between his, searching, hopeful and scared at once. “Nico…”

Footsteps echo down the hall.

They both freeze.

Jack’s voice carries around the corner. “I swear he ran away from us.”

Luke snorts. “He always runs away from you.”

Nico and you stare at each other in panic for exactly one second before you grab the front of his practice shirt and haul him the last inch forward.

The kiss is quick and a little messy and very, very real.

When you pull back, both of you are breathing harder.

“Definitely not safe,” you whisper.

Nico closes his eyes briefly, then rests his forehead against yours. “We will die.”

“Probably,” you agree. “Worth it?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

He told you he was taking you out for dinner, to be ready when he got home. You knew you were going to one of the fancier restaurants in town, taking special care to do your hair so not a strand was out of place, do your makeup just the way you liked it, and wearing your favorite outfit that you took the time to steam the wrinkles out of so that you didn’t look like you had spent the entire day rotting on the couch, even though you did.

You knew what he was going to ask.

____________________

“What are you doing right now?” Quinn’s head pokes through your bedroom window, your boyfriend climbing into your room, trying not to laugh as he struggles to bend the right way to make it through without getting hurt.

You turn the page in your book, not bothering to look up. “I’m in the middle of taking over Poland,” you deadpan as he makes his way over to your bed, plopping himself down at your feet. “One day, you’re going to break your leg or something doing that.”

Quinn’s bedroom in your respective family’s lake house’s was opposite yours, allowing the two of you to see what the other was doing whenever the curtains were open. Since you were younger, that was your signal to each other that they could come over. You thought it would involve using the front doors, but Quinn took it as an excuse to truly act like a twelve year old, despite being older than that, and makeshift a ladder from the tree that was right there. 

He grinned at you, leaning against the wall and starting to fiddle with the fringe of the blanket sitting at the foot of your bed. “I want to go do something.”

“We haven’t even been here for seventy two hours and I’m pretty sure you’ve been active for seventy of them.”

“Please,” he whines, leaning over so that his body is parallel with yours. You try to ignore him as you attempt to focus on your book, feeling his eyes practically pierce your shin. “I want to go for a walk.”

“If you can scale the side of this house, I’m sure you can do that just fine.”

“I want company.”

“You have two brothers.”

“They’re asleep.”

“We both know if either of them wanted something from you, they would not hesitate to wake you up.” 

“But I want you to come with me.” You put your bookmark in to save your space, giving him an unimpressed look. “Please? How often do we get to do things where it’s just us?” He takes your hand in his, the calluses on his hands from using his stick in his driveway back home without his gloves surprisingly soothing to you. You roll your eyes, Quinn nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder as you can’t help but smile.

You pull him off the bed, your book all but forgotten, Quinn trailing you like a love-sick puppy.

____________________

You got ready way earlier than you needed to be, anxiously pacing around your apartment you shared with him. You could see him in every corner; it was his apartment first that you had eventually moved into. The furniture was all his, the decorations that were there were chosen by someone he paid rather than the two of you picking it out yourselves like you wanted, even the books in the bookcases weren’t ones you picked; half of them were just for show, those coffee table books on topics you didn’t care about, but looked impressive to those who didn’t know either of you. 

____________________

“This is how you decorate?”

You roll your eyes at him as he flops on your bed. As usual, Quinn was being no help to anything, but it was your first time being with each other since you left for college. “I’m going to be here for a year, why do more?”

“You don’t even have a picture of us in here.” He sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap. He kisses the top of your head, you letting your eyes flutter closed as you exhale against him, curled into his chest.

“My roommate keeps bringing guys back,” you tell him. “Four of them would see a picture of you and ask me to send you their highlights.” Quinn burst out laughing, throwing his head back and sending a shiver through your body. You missed hearing him in person, being with him and being able to touch him. 

You missed him. 

You pull away from him slightly to kiss him, his hands tightening, bunching up your shirt in his fists. Thank god your roommate was away this weekend.

“Leave room for Jesus,” one of your friends barges in, Quinn practically launching you off him. You could feel the heat rush to your face, convinced it was visible from space by the smirk on the intruder's face. “Party tonight at Kappa house.”

You exchange a look with Quinn, trying to get a read on his face before looking back at your friend. “Ok?”

“Are you two coming?”

Quinn shrugs, leaning back on your bed, the hem of his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin that made  your heart race. That stupid smirk on his face told you his answer. “Sure.” 

Your friend squeals, launching into talking about you borrowing clothing, getting ready, making sure all three of you look as fantastic as possible for what was all, apparently, your first college frat party. 

Two hours later, you were in a different room down the hall, pre-gaming, cringing as your friend thrust a shot of rosé wine into your hand, immediately following it up with raspberry vodka. You nearly gagged after downing the combination that never should have existed, looking at the disgusted look on Quinn’s face that mirrored your own. “I wish I never drank that,” he sputters out, sticking his tongue out as if the air around him would get rid of whatever that lingering taste was. 

“I’m never drinking vodka again.”

Quinn shrugs. “You never liked it much anyway.” You look at him for a second, not sure if you were unable to see the connection he was trying to make because you genuinely didn’t know, or if the horrible alcohol was somehow already fogging your brain. “Remember a few summers ago when some of our hockey friends came up to visit? They brought vodka and you hated it.”

“Was that the night I fell asleep in your bed and your parents freaked out when they found us?”

“It was the night you fell asleep in the bathtub with Jack, actually.”

You cringe, biting your bottom lip, wishing that he hadn’t brought that night up. Nothing happened between you and his brother, but it was easy to see why Quinn was annoyed at the sight of the two of you. Actually, you remember telling him nothing happened, because nothing did. So why did he get mad at it? “Why would you bring that up?” 

Quinn shrugs, turning his attention to the group of guys cheering on another as he shotgun a can of beer. “Just made me think of it.” 

____________________

He texted you that he was downstairs, ready to pick you up, just as you agreed he would do that morning. He was late coming back from practice, letting you know that he took the time to get ready at the practice facility so he wouldn’t have to come up and do it. 

You felt yourself exhale, the anxiety in your chest dissipating ever so slightly. Him being downstairs gave you more time before you had to see him.

You didn’t want to see him.

____________________

“I want to see you, though.” 

You roll your eyes, thankful that Quinn called you instead of Facetimed you, knowing he would get upset over your reaction. You were having this conversation for the fifth time now, Quinn begging you to come see him when you told him it wasn’t possible. “I have four exams this week and I have a job interview. I need to be here.” 

“Where’s the job?”

You hesitate for a second, trying to figure out if you should lie or not. “New Jersey.” Quinn doesn’t say anything. “Q?”

“I thought you were applying for jobs here?”

“I am,” you say quickly, “But I need a job after graduation, regardless of where it is. I can’t move to Vancouver if I don’t have a job, too.” 

“I can take care of both of us.” 

You let out a loud sigh, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes. “I don’t want you to have to ‘take care of me,’ Quinn, I can do it myself.” 

“That doesn’t mean you have to.”

“And what happens if we break up?” you snap. “What happens when you and I aren’t together anymore and I have nothing because you controlled everything? I’ll have no job, no experience, nothing to fall back on and I’m screwed.”

Quinn doesn’t say anything for too long, your heartbeat getting faster with every second he was silent. You didn’t know you were afraid of that. “You think we’re going to break up?” he finally asks, his voice barely audible. 

“Quinn,” you start.

“No, no, it’s fine. You’re right. You don’t want to bank on us being together forever.”

“Quinn,” you try again.

“Hey, I have to head to the arena, and you have to study. I’ll talk to you later.” 

The line goes silent before you can say anything else. You check the time, taking into account the time difference. You knew Quinn’s game-day schedule. He still had two more hours before he had to leave. 

____________________

You get downstairs, seeing your boyfriend leaning against his car. He was in a suit, one you hadn’t seen before. He bought a new one for tonight. It fit him well; you could see the curve of every part of his body, every crevice that you knew by heart, everything that was stashed in his pockets outlined. You could see the box in his pant pocket. 

He was looking down at his phone, a lock of his hair falling into his eye without even hearing you coming towards him. That sight of him used to make your heart skip a beat. 

He finally looks up, the grin on his face growing with every step you took towards him. He shoves his phone in his pocket, pulling you in for a kiss. His arms wrapped around you, his lips pressed to yours, you praying he doesn’t notice the slight sweat you felt forming over your entire body. 

He opens the car door for you, running around to get into the driver seat and take you into the city.

“You are gorgeous,” he breathes out, his hand resting on your thigh as he drives.

____________________

You stare at your phone, praying that someone would email you or call you. If you watched your phone enough, you could will them into getting back to you, right?

“You’re next,” your cousin’s hand finds your shoulder, making you jump out of your skin. “God, ok.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, putting your phone down and getting in the makeup chair. The person your cousin hired to do the bridal party makeup was talking to you about what you wanted, you barely paying attention while your mind wandered, trying not to be rude and check your notifications every time your phone screen lit up. 

“What’s with you?”

You look to your left, the makeup artist turning your head back toward them. “I’m supposed to be hearing back from that job,” you tell her.

“So why do you look like you want to throw up?”

You hesitate, a text from Quinn showing up on your screen to let you know that he was almost ready to head to the wedding venue. 

“Because it’s my dream job, but,” your voice trails off. She eyes you, the look on her face burning a hole in the side of your face. “It’s not in Vancouver.”

She nods. “So it’s not near Quinn.” 

“It’s in New Jersey.” 

“Are you going to take it if you get it?”

You exhale. The job was everything you wanted; in the field you studied in college, in a great place where you didn’t have to spend what felt like millions on rent, the people seemed great, the benefits were perfect.

It was just in the wrong country. 

“You know what? You’ve just graduated, we’re getting ready for my wedding, and your boyfriend is out there probably thinking about the day that this is the two of you, instead. Relax.” 

Before you could give an answer, it was time for you to get your hair done, your cousin being whisked away by the photographer to start getting some pictures taken. You didn’t even have an answer. 

Your phone buzzes, another text from Quinn, a new email in your inbox. 

You don’t check it, your thoughts lost in the whirlwind that became getting ready to join your cousin to walk down the aisle to who was supposed to be the love of her life. 

The bridal party ahead of you starts to enter, your cousin behind you pacing while the music continues to play. She calmed you down before when she was the one who was supposed to be anxious. What could you do now? 

You walk forward, the aisle seeming much longer than it did during the rehearsal dinner considering you were now in much higher heels, with makeup that you hoped wasn’t running down your face from the heat you felt. 

You catch Quinn sitting by himself, the smile on his face making your heart skip a beat. 

You felt yourself calm down, all the worries you had melting away as you headed toward the altar. 

You wanted to be walking toward him, to see him waiting for you, ready to tell everyone you cared about that you wanted to be together forever.

The entire wedding went by in a blur, your conscience focused entirely on you picturing yourself with Quinn standing at the altar.

When you finally get the chance to check your phone on the way to the reception, the email notification sits on your screen, unanswered. You open the app, your heart racing. 

‘Good morning, we are pleased to offer you the position…” 

____________________

The two of you fall into mundane conversation once you’re seated. He had asked for a table away from everyone, off to the side where the two of you had privacy, just as the two of you had liked it. You felt awkward being in the middle of any restaurant; he hated having people stare at him because they were sure they knew who he was and spent the entire time gaping at him once they realized who he was.

He asks about your day, about your job. 

You relay to him the events of the day, just as you did every single day the two of you had time to sit down and eat together. It was the same conversation every time, yet he seemed to love to hear about it. 

“I remember when I was excited about this job.”

“Do you still want to quit?” 

____________________

“How do we manage this?” Quinn’s voice comes through your phone, an exasperated plea. 

You hesitate, trying to figure out what to say. “I have no clue,” you admit. “Do we try long distance?”

Quinn sighs, the sound of his car starting up in the background. “We’ve been doing that for the last four years. Do we really want to keep doing it like this?”

Silence comes from you again, this conversation going exactly how you thought it would; neither of you sure what you wanted to do. 

Your dream job made you an offer that you couldn’t refuse. Your boyfriend was on the other side of the continent in another country. You couldn’t do both.

“It’s that or we aren’t together anymore.”

“Are you sure you want to take this job?” Quinn’s voice cuts you off before you can say more.

“Quinn.” 

“Is this job this important to you? Did you try to look for something near here?”

“You know that it is and you know that I did,” you reply, your tone getting defensive. “I’m supposed to be meeting my friends tonight and I still need to get ready,” you lie to him, giving yourself the best out you could. “I’ll talk to you later.” 

You pace around your apartment, pulling up the email chain with the offer letter attached. It was everything you could want. It just wasn’t close enough to the person you wanted. 

You end up falling asleep on your couch, waking up in pain from the angle you somehow thought was comfortable the night before, with someone pounding on the door to be let in. Your phone starts buzzing, your brain barely functioning to register anything other than the time, almost noon.

“I’m coming, calm down,” you rasp, hoping the banging would subside. “Quinn?”

“I can’t have this conversation with you over the phone,” he barges in, pushing past you. 

“How did you get here?” 

“I took the first flight out.” He sits down on the couch you were just asleep on, making no comment of your obviously disheveled state. “We can’t break up. I love you and I don’t want us to break up.” 

You sit down next to him. “I love you, too.”

“Do you want to break up?” he asks, panic in his voice. You study him for a second, knowing that the silence you were giving him wasn’t settling him in any way. He was clearly exhausted; his skin was more pale than normal, his hair poking in every direction possible. The bags under his eyes were darker than you had ever seen him, and you’ve seen him after he pulled an all nighter for a final, running only on energy drinks, french fries, and pure hope that he would pass the exam that morning. 

“I don’t want to,” you start, your voice trailing off. “But, Quinn, this job.”

“Marry me.”

You jolt back. “What?”

“Marry me. Don’t worry about the job. You don’t have to worry about anything. I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me.”

“Quinn,” you scoff, a laugh bubbling into your voice. “We can’t get married.”

____________________

“You could easily find a job somewhere else, though, right? If you wanted to?” he asks.

You nod. “But it was already overwhelming trying to figure everything out when I first started. Do I really want to do that again?”

____________________

“How are you settling in?” Quinn’s question made your heart ache, the first time you’re talking to him since you moved only able to be a few minutes over Facetime. “Has Jack helped you?”

You let out a laugh. “You know he’s only helped eat my food.” Quinn’s laugh matches yours, a tightness in your chest at the sound. “I miss you.”

Quinn lets out a sigh, closing his eyes. “I miss you, too.” Both of you stare at each other in silence for a moment, you looking away to pretend to continue unpacking. You were still trying to find everything in the boxes you hastily packed up, the start date your job provided you only giving you a week to pack and find a new place. Everything was in unlabelled boxes and just thrown together, meaning you were finding multiple pairs of underwear mixed into a box of dishes and books. “I wish we didn’t have to break up.”

You feel a sob creeping up your throat, the same sentiment you had being verbalized by the one person you wished didn’t feel the same. If this were a clean break, everything would be so much easier. If it were a clean break it would be easier to get over and move on. If it were a clean break, then you wouldn’t have what you were sure was a permanent pit in your stomach telling you that this was the wrong choice.

Before you can answer, someone knocks on your door. “Um, I’m gonna go. I think that’s Jack or Luke. They said they were going to come and help today.”

“Tell them to behave.”

You force a smirk through the tears that were brimming in your eyes. “We know they won’t.” You say your goodbyes, the tears finally falling down your cheeks when you open your door. “Oh, Nico,” you sniffle, Jack and Luke’s teammate standing in your doorway without the two boys who were supposed to be there. 

Nico’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong?” he takes a small step towards you, gently resting his hands on your arms. His attempt at comfort sends a shiver through your body, the attempt to hide your physical recoiling at his touch unsuccessful. It wasn’t one of disgust, it was more out of shock. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” you tell him, tugging his sleeve to pull him into your apartment. “I’m just,” you hesitate. Telling an attractive guy that you were crying over your ex seemed like a bad idea. Especially when that ex is the brother of two of this guy's closest friends. “I’m overwhelmed from unpacking.” 

Nico nods, looking around at the mess of boxes that are cluttered in what is supposed to be your living room. “When was the last time you ate?”

You stop and think, checking your phone to see it was closer to dinner than any other normal meal time. “Yesterday?”

  “Come on.” Nico holds out his hand to you, ignoring the uncertain look on your face. “Jack and Luke asked me to come because they’re doing god knows what, and we both know dealing with them when you’re hungry is going to end up with one of them dangling from that window by their sock.”

You can’t help but laugh knowing that you and Quinn have done something like that to Luke when you were younger over the summer. There’s a reason there’s now a small balcony outside Quinn’s window. The thought of you and Quinn makes your heart hurt again, the threat of tears coming back.

“Hey,” Nico’s voice goes soft, pulling you into a hug. You melt into him, the comfort of his cologne making you exhale. “Whatever it is, you’ll be ok.” 

____________________

“Remember that one wedding we went to, one of your college friends?” he reaches across the table to take your hand, his voice shaking as he abruptly changes the subject. He waits for you to nod. “Do you think about what it would be for us to get married?”

As soon as you hear the words starting to form in his mouth, you grab your water with your free hand, gulping it down to give yourself time. “Um, yeah,” you lie.

____________________

“Jack, you fucking idiot,” you scold him, grabbing the napkins and trying to get as much red wine off your white shirt as you could. It’s your fault, really. You’ve known Jack long enough to know how dangerous of a color it is to wear around him. 

“I’ll grab you something to wear,” Nico mumbles, glaring at his teammate. He heads to his room, the base of his neck turning bright red as he walks away. 

Jack looks sorry, giving you a puppy-dog pout that you were all too used to from your childhood. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter. Nico comes back with a sweatshirt, a Devils logo and the number 13 on the breast for you to throw on while you’re here. He plants a kiss on the side of your head once you pull it on, sitting down next to you. 

The rest of the night passes by, Jack spilling two more drinks all over Nico’s table that made Nico send his teammate home.

You settle in his bed, letting out an exhale as you sink into the soft mattress. Nico comes into his room, your shirt in hand. He tried his best to get the stain out.

“I think it’s a lost cause,” he tells you, tossing the shirt into his hamper. “I’ll see if the cleaners can get it out when I bring my suits in next time.” 

“I know better than to wear white around a Hughes brother,” you joke, Nico climbing in next to you and pulling you close.

You hear him sigh, tucking his arm under his head as he lays down. “Do you still miss him?”

The silence between you two is palpable. You never talk about your past with Quinn, awkwardly dancing around the subject whenever he inevitably gets brought up. You weren’t completely over him, but how could you tell your boyfriend that? You lived here, Quinn was in Vancouver. “I miss my friendship with him.”

It wasn’t totally a lie. Even before you started dating Quinn, he was your best friend. Now, you could barely talk to each other. 

“I get that,” you hear him say, not without you noticing the strangled tone in his voice.

Your phone buzzes, Jack tagging you and Nico in a story from your dinner, captioning it ‘taken moments before disaster (myself) struck.’ You can’t help by laugh, showing Nico the post. He smiles, the two of you taking in the photo. The way Nico looks at you makes your heart flutter. He loves you. You know he does. And you do love him. 

You look at the time, the late hour making you groan. “Ugh, fuck.” 

“What?”

“I’m only going to get, like, three hours of sleep if I want to make it home in time to get ready for work.”

“Why don’t you move in here?” Your head whips to him, feeling a pain in your neck, trying to hide your wince so that Nico doesn’t think you hate his idea. “I mean, you spend more time sleeping here than you do at your actual place.”

“Are you serious?”

Nico smiles, pulling you in for a kiss. “Of course.”

You mirror his smile. “Yeah.”

You eventually fall asleep, an excited feeling about a new chapter in yours and Nico’s relationship keeping you awake. 

When your alarm finally goes off, you let out a groan, Nico stirring beside you as he wakes up with you, despite not needing to. You see a text on your phone, sent not long after you went to bed.

It was from Quinn.

‘Does he at least make you happy?’

____________________

Nico is clearly nervous, his free hand rubbing against his thigh. You can feel the sweat forming on his hand in yours. “We’ve been together for how many years now? Three?” You nod. “I love you.” 

____________________

Every time Vancouver came to play in New Jersey, Ellen and Jim insist on you joining them to watch the game. They think of you like a daughter, despite the hopes of you actually joining their family dwindling down to nothing with every year that passes by with you staying in New Jersey.

Of you staying with Nico rather than Quinn. 

It doesn’t get easier any time you see Quinn. According to a drunken Jack, Quinn still loves you. You know you love Nico, but can you also still have feelings for Quinn? 

The Hughes parents weren’t there yet, you sitting alone as the two teams come out onto the ice for warmups. You see Quinn, the sight of him making your heart skip a beat, even after all these years of falling in love with Nico. He looks like he’s zoning out while skating in a circle around nothing, his stick in both his hands parallel with the ice. You know him well enough to know that this is how way of focusing, reviewing everything he could remember about the game tapes he had spent the last few days studying, as if this weren’t the third time this season he was playing against his brothers.

Against your boyfriend. 

The three brothers meet at center ice, taking a picture as they did before every game, the tradition somehow never losing its magic and never getting skipped over no matter how many meetings the two teams had. You feel your anxiety go up when Nico skates over and joins them, the smile on Nico’s face not being matched in the slightest by Quinn. 

The last time you saw Quinn, it was like you were two strangers who were forced together by accident, rather than being two people who grew up with each other, who knew everything about each other. His sentences and comments to you were short, his eyes never meeting yours.The only thing he said that really mattered to you was him telling you he wasn’t sure he would ever stop loving you.

You didn’t remember how that even came up.You had been talking about the wedding you were in, one of your friends from college getting married a few months before yours and Quinn’s last meeting. Quinn was invited, but, according to Jack, he couldn’t get himself to go once he saw you were in the wedding party. 

Your phone buzzes, a text from your boss. You can’t help but let out a groan, knowing that nothing good could come of him texting you on a Friday night when he knew you were at the game.

You skim the message, hoping that it was something that you could ignore for a few hours until you and Nico got home that night. One word catches your eye, causing you to choke on the sharp breath you took in. 

‘Vancouver’ is right there, your boss telling you that there was an opening in your company’s office there, that you would be perfect for it, that you would get a higher salary, a relocation fee, the company would take care of everything you needed to have you move to Canada.

You would be near Quinn. 

You let your boss know that you would think about it, reminding him that you were out with your friends at the game, just as you told him that morning. He sends back a simple thumbs up, as if that was a good enough reaction to letting you know that your dream job just got better. 

The Hughes finally join you right as the anthems begin, pulling you in for hugs. The game begins, your attention anywhere by the actual game. You were facing the ice, but your mind was back to your phone. During the intermissions, you’re completely anti-social, looking at the application your boss sent you that you would need to fill out. He was right, you were perfect for the job.

The game ends, you heading down with the parents to see the guys, Quinn the first one out. He talks to his parents, you awkwardly standing off to the side. 

He finally acknowledges you when his brothers come out of their locker room.

“So, how are you?” he asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground. 

“Good. You?”

“Good. How’s the job?”

“Good,” you let out. “There’s an opening in our Vancouver office,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Quinn’s eyes light up, the smile on his face one that you hadn’t seen from him in a while. It made you smile. “Really? Are you going to take it?”

You sigh, the smile melting from your face. “I’m not sure yet. I would have to move. I would have to figure out Visa’s and everything. I would have to figure out things with,” your voice trails off, both of you knowing what you meant without you saying it. “Nico.”

Your boyfriend appears behind Quinn, a sudden panic coursing through you. You remember the idea of being away from Quinn tearing you apart inside, the thought making you sick. The idea of being away from Nico didn’t have that same effect. 

____________________

“Will you marry me?” He asks, the look on his face hopeful and nervous while he waits for your answer. 

You hesitate, knowing that he was panicking, hating that you made him feel that way. Your phone buzzes with a text from your boss before you can answer, your eyes flicking down to the screen. ‘Still interested in Vancouver?’ You hadn’t told Nico you applied for the job. You told yourself you didn’t want it that much but that it wouldn’t hurt to apply. Seeing Quinn keping coming up in your mind each time you lied to yourself, how you would be back in the same city as him. 

You still love Quinn.

“Good night, AJ, sweet dreams,” Karesha murmured as she kissed her son on the forehead. AJ made a face but Karesha knew he was happy. AJ was a happy but very tired boy by the way he started snoring within seconds. Tip-toeing out of the room to make sure she didn’t wake anyone up, Karesha sighed happily as she closed the door.

“Desie, thank you so much for letting AJ sleep here with Astrid. You really didn’t have to,” Karesha said with a smile.

Holding and rubbing her stomach, Desiree replied, “I’ve had enough tonight, I’m done. And I saw the guy you were talking to earlier, go ahead and talk to him.”

Karesha did a double take as her cousin cupped her front. “Desie… are you?”

“Yes I am, January. I hope it’s another girl.”

Karesha resisted the urge to scream, jump up and down, and grab her favorite cousin. Instead, she rushed over as quietly as possible and gave Desiree a hug. “I’m so happy! Anyone else know?”

“Just you and Jamie. We’ll make a post later this month but we are past four months so yeah. It was hard keeping it to ourselves,” Desiree admitted.

Karesha mimed zipping her lips closed as she slipped back into her heels. Waving bye, Karesha left Desiree’s suite, getting on the elevator, intending on making her way back to the ballroom. However as she got off,, she heard voices and she snooped closer, unable to resist the urge to listen in.

“My cousin told me not to mess with any of her husband’s friends.”

“Why not, is she afraid that someone like me can do something to you?”

Karesha peeked around the corner to see Chelby, Nina’s other little girl cousin, and some redhead ginger looking guy talking. She smirked as she heard Chelby reply, “No, because she doesn’t want me to break any of you little boys’ hearts.”

“Pssh, shouldn’t she be more concerned about you? I saw the way you were staring at me tonight. Still remembered how you tasted that night,” the ginger guy remarked.

Weighing her options to either show herself and be a hater or to just walk away, Karesha was surprised when a smooth voice said, “I didn’t see you as the eavesdropping type.”

Whirling around, Karesha gasped when she saw it was PK. And he looked absolutely delicious, his tie gone and his shirt open, showing a bit of his chest. The crisp white shirt set off his skin immaculately and Karesha was gone. This guy was just her type.

PK smirked as Karesha looked up and down. Then she replied, “I was a bit bored but I see something else I could do instead.”

“What’s that?”

PK raised an eyebrow as Karesha seductively walked towards him, her brown eyes glinting with mischief. Then she stood on her tiptoes, still significantly shorter than PK even in heels. Whispering in his ear, Karesha slowly smiled as PK looked at her, shocked. Then he grabbed her hand.

**

This was probably not her wisest decision but fuck it, she was on vacation and he was sexy. Licking her lips, Karesha was rewarded with a groan from PK. Sweat dripped off his forehead, his arms bracing him just over her body. Thickly muscled with an ass to die for, Karesha was happy she invited him into his bed and doubly happy her child was a floor away.

Spreading her legs wider, Karesha arched up towards PK. “Please,” she breathed, feeling his dick hard against her core. Moments ago, she had put a condom on him, so she was ready for him.

Cautious flirting had turned into innuendo. Innuendo had turned into soft kisses. Soft Kisses turned into her ball gown being tossed over PK’s head, his mouth doing things to her pussy that Karesha hadn’t experienced before.

Well, she had received oral from men before but it was usually just a prelude. It was some licks to try to get her wet, some rough fingering before the guy expected she was ready to take his dick. Or it was after demanding some reciprocation after giving head over and over again. Then it was done in a way to make Karesha never ask again.

PK though, he had treated her like she was the finest meal he ever had, the ministrations of his tongue and fingers making her gush all over his mouth, with some getting on her dress. After they both stripped, Karesha had prepared to return the favor but PK instead picked her up and placed her on her bed. Now, he was slowly entering her, feeling so good.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re so tight,” PK uttered as he slid into the hilt. Fucking on the first night, well, this didn’t quite feel like fucking. It definitely meant more than fucking. But still, it was the first night and his girl felt like she hadn’t had any in a long time. PK felt a surge of masculine pride as he thought about that.

PK loved being generous to his partners. But as he watched Karesha start to come apart on his dick, his fingers playing with her clit, he knew that this would have to happen again and again, very very soon.

**

“You should have came, Joy.”

Karesha leaned back on her covers, making sure that no marks from last night were visible. Joy giggled on the screen, her brown eyes sad as she replied, “I wanted to but I just wasn’t ready. I mean, I had a panic attack when I was looking for plane tickets.”

Sighing, Karesha wished she could give her friend a hug through the phone. She didn’t understand Joy; life was for living and living well. But Joy was agoraphobic and dealing with mental health issues that Karesha didn’t understand. Instead of voicing her opinion, she listened as Joy continued, “I did make it outside to go shopping for groceries without any issues twice this week. So it’s little steps. Anyway, what happened? I know that Nina had to go to the ER for her egg allergy.”

“Well, Jamila’s sperm donor is here and I heard she finally dropped the bomb on him. Lauren had to put on her lawyer hat for a bit for that to diffuse a potential situation. Desiree said that she didn’t think it would get that far but Lauren said that Jamila has a reckless mouth when she’s angry and she wanted to make sure Jamila didn’t write a check she wouldn’t want to cash.”

“That’s so nice of Lauren. Let Jamila know if she wants me to do a root on her baby daddy.”

Karesha laughed, the covers slipping. Joy’s eyes widened before saying, “Someone else had fun too last night.”

Feeling her skin turn hot, Karesh muttered, “It was the first time since I broke up with my last ex.”

“Awwwwww! I’ll keep the secret.”

Karesha stuck out her tongue as Joy laughed. Last night had started out slow and reverent but the second time had been wild as hell. Kisses, biting, marking, as if they both wanted to make sure the other remembered them long afterwards. Then when they woke up in the morning, it was slow again before Karesha kicked PK out. Well, after she had given him her phone number, then it was time for him to go. Good thing because thirty minutes later, Jamie had brought a wide-awake AJ to her.

**

“Well, this morning was wild,” Siobhan proclaimed.

Karesha leaned back in her chair, enjoying the soft beach breeze. Desiree was cuddled into Jamie, Marisa was sitting across from Kev, her feet in his lap. Lauren and her Chris were sitting next to each other, quietly chatting together.

“Much love to Nina, I love her life for her. Yikes to the fuck shit Jamila is in, I wish she got herself a sperm donor than tangled with him. Laur, just from meeting that guy you were hate-flirting with at Risa’s wedding, he’s already much better than your ex, please marry him. I love that you all have hockey players, but that’s not for me.”

Karesha leaned back in her chair after making her pronouncement. Lauren was rolling her eyes as Chris smirked, Desiree was yawning, Siobhan was tapping on her phone. However, Risa and Kevin had secret smiles on their faces.

Kevin began, “You know that guy, the one that found your son and you ended up dancing with?”

“Yeah, and?”

Karesha wouldn’t tell them but he seemed really nice. AJ wouldn’t shut up about him. The guy had managed to keep a scared boy centered and keep him company while they were frantically looking for him after the cocktail hour. Given how most men feigned cluelessness when dealing with children, he was a breath of fresh air. Chris began to laugh, his eyes crinkling after he looked at his phone.

Smirking, Kevin let out an evil laugh. “PK is a hockey player too.”

“Bullshit.”

Chuckling, Kevin pulled up PK’s profile on his phone. Karesha looked at it before her jaw dropped. “Son of a bitch.”

“Mom, you owe me $5 for cursing!”

Karesha winced as AJ walked to the table, holding Aryanna’s hand. “Nice to see that you’re doing your job today,” Lauren commented.

Aryanna grimaced as AJ ran over to his mom. “I beat Yanni in minigolf before Ms. Tracey and Mr. Vernon took us to lunch. Mommy, what’s that red mark on your shoulder.”

Karesha wanted to die after her son asked her that. Everyone turned towards her and then there were coughs and smirks from all of the adults. Aryanna looked confused for a moment before her eyes got wide. “We have children here before anyone makes any remarks.”

“I’m not a child, I’m a teen,” Aryanna started before Desiree, Marisa, Karesha, and Lauren all stared her down. Closing her mouth, she sulked as Kevin sighed.

“Here’s some cash,” Kevin began as he pulled some bills out of his wallet, “Find something to do.”

Jamie added, “Kris and Alex are at the pool, go find them.”

“Kris,” Aryanna breathed as she grabbed AJ’s hand.

“Oh God,” both Lauren and Karesha groaned as Desiree snickered.

**

PK reluctantly gathered his belongings, knowing that he was almost late for his flight. Luckily, he had TSA Global Pre-check so he didn’t have to worry about those lines. But he didn’t want to leave.

Next week, he had to restart his offseason training regimen. Then a week later, there was Wooder’s wedding, then he was going to hang with Carey for a week and train with him. If he had known he was going to meet the perfect woman at Sid’s wedding, he would have changed his plans.

The names may change, but the feelings never do. 

Deni looked up from the book she was reading and stared at her wall. There was nothing in front of her but her landlord's special white paint but she felt overwhelmed because of a few words. There was no reason why that line from a random library book she checked out because the cover was cute should leave her staring at her wall. 

What feelings does she have that have never changed? Feelings for someone else? Wouldn’t she know? 

“It’s me,” she hears, her front door slamming so hard she can feel every object she owns rattling at the force. “I brought food.”

Deni shuts her book, throwing it haphazardly on her bed and running to her kitchen before Jack can break yet another plate of hers trying to get it out of her cabinets. “That’s the only thing you’re good for, isn’t it?”

“Some people say I’m good at hockey.”

Deni rolls her eyes, sitting down in front of her and Jack’s go-to meals from the Thai place down the street from her. “Did they give you the food before you ordered again?”

Jack nods, shoving curry in his mouth as if he can actually handle the heat, breathing back out like a dragon when the spice finally hits. “What if we wanted something else for once?”

“We never do.” 

They sat in silence, eating their food. 

“I think I need dates,” Jack breaks the silence, Deni trying not to laugh at the tears that were forming in his eyes from the spice. 

“Like,” Deni started, “With people?”

“No, like figs. Yes, with people.”

“Dates and figs are not the same thing.” 

“What?”

Deni rolls her eyes, letting out a sigh. “How do you plan on finding these dates?” 

“You can help.”

“Yeah, because I do so well in that department as it is.”

“You’ve been on more dates in the last year than I scored goals last season.” 

“Like that was hard.” 

“Hey,” Jack laughs, throwing his napkin at her. 

“Ok, fine, but really, what is your plan? You leave for Boston with your brothers in like, a week.”

Jack shrugs, “I was hoping you would be able to help me. And, you’re coming with me to Boston, so we can figure it out there, too.” 

“Is this all I am to you?”

“Hey, I bring you food, you help me find dates.” 

__________________________

The bar wasn’t too crowded, a good amount of people milling around and for once, the music seemed low enough in volume that Deni could hear herself think. She leaned her back against the bar, Jack right next to her waiting to order for them. Scoping out the people, she tried to look for anyone Jack might be remotely interested in. 

Jack nudges her, giving her the drink. 

“I don’t think I actually know what your type is,” she says after taking a sip. 

“My type is woman.” 

Deni scrunches her face, turning to look at him. “Why am I friends with you?”

“I buy you things and expect very little in return.” 

“So you’re a sugar daddy without any benefit to yourself.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Jack moans, Deni laughing. She tried to figure out what type of girl she could picture him with. Jack responded to a girl who could joke with him and put him in his place when he needed it, like she did.

Jack needs a girl who is smarter than him, because he would listen to her telling him about anything she was passionate about. Deni couldn’t even begin to count all the times that she would go on a rant and Jack would watch her and listen to her like no one else in the world existed. 

He needed a girl he felt comfortable around; Jack was someone who needed to feel at home no matter where he was. He could walk into Deni’s apartment whenever he wanted because he felt safe with her. She could walk into his apartment the same way. 

“What about her?” Deni nods towards a girl who somehow, looked almost exactly like her. The only major difference was that Deni was a little shorter than the girl she was motioning to. “She’s cute.” 

Jack nodded. Deni could tell he was chewing on his cheek while he was trying to process that girl in front of him. “Yeah, she really is.” 

“Go talk to her. Ask her for her number,” Deni nudges him forward, watching her friend stumble on his feet as he tries to get himself together. 

She can see he’s a mess. He’s flustered, scratching the back of his head while the girl smiles at him in pity. He manages to get a laugh from her, Deni watching his shoulders visibly fall as he relaxes knowing that he hasn’t totally blown his chance. Deni can’t tell what they’re saying to each other, her inability to read lips really making her life difficult at the moment, but she can tell Jack is excited, acting in his ‘puppy way,’ that she calls it, when he’s bouncing on his toes a little bit, his eyes lighting up and the smile on his face infectious.

Jack hands the girl his phone, turning around to see Deni’s reaction. She gives him a quick thumbs up before he returns his attention to the girl, her friends calling her away from him. He stands there for a moment, dumbfounded before shaking his head and making his way back to his own friend.

“I have a date with her on Saturday.” 

__________________________

“How do you go on a date?”

Deni looks up from her book, not even hearing Jack come into her apartment, let alone her room. “Um,” she stammers, looking at the bags on his arms. “I can’t answer that until you tell me you don’t have body parts in there.”

“It’s clothing. I don’t know what to wear. I don’t know what to talk about. Do I open the car door for her? Do I-”

“First thing is that you calm down,” she says, taking the bags from his arms and dumping his clothing on her bed. “Where are you taking her?”

Deni ignores him once she gets the name of the restaurant, knowing that entertaining his nerves would only make him more nervous, just for the plot. 

“What do you think about on a date?” pulls her out of her organizing plot since his clothes were very clearly pulled from hangers and drawers at random and stuffed into whatever he had near his bed. 

“You should probably think about Marina.” 

“What if my mind wanders?” 

“Then you have ADHD and need to see your doctor.”

“Den, please,” he whines, throwing his body back on the pile of his clothes. 

She sighs, throwing him a shirt for him to change into. “It depends on what your mind is wandering to. If your mind is wandering to something not related to the date, that’s probably a good sign that you aren’t all that interested.” He moans again, pulling the shirt he had on over his head. Deni had seen him shirtless plenty of times before, but something about that made her breath hitch. “Look, if you have to force yourself to pay attention when you don’t want to, then that means you only go on one date and we can figure out how to let her down later. For now, don’t worry, just be yourself.”

“Myself?”

“What, do you want to be Quinn instead?”

Deni spent the rest of the night she had planned for reading talking her best friend down from the anxiety that was mounting inside him. This date for him shouldn’t be any different than when the two of them hung out. The only difference was that he and Marina would hopefully both want more than the conversation and dinner once they left the restaurant. 

Jack eventually leaves, barely getting out the door in time to make sure he wasn’t late to pick up Marina. It took Deni threatening to Lorena Bobbitt him if he didn’t make it to Marina on time. 

For some reason, Jack’s question of what she thought about rang over and over again in her mind. Yeah, she had been on a lot of dates, but that was because there weren’t many people who kept her interest. She had a close group of friends, she had her family, and she had Jack. She didn’t really need someone else, but she sure did want someone else. 

What did she think about when she was on those dates? Most of the time, the people weren’t that interesting. She had a habit of just saying yes to anyone who asked her, but they never kept her attention longer than ordering their drinks if they went out to dinner. Her mind normally wandered to Jack instead, thinking about what stupid thing he was doing, knowing that he was waiting at her apartment for her to come back. She would try to figure out what she was going to tell him when they did their normal debriefing later that night. 

What if Jack was thinking the same thing?

__________________________

“You better be dying,” Deni mumbles, her eyes still closed, her phone to her ear. Jack had not only managed to get past her Do Not Disturb function that was on while she was sleeping, but also gave himself a loud and annoying ring tone when her phone is on silent in every other situation. Somehow, it fit for him.

“I was dying of boredom on that date.” 

“This couldn’t wait until a normal hour?”

“It’s 9 pm, Grandma.” 

Deni pulls her phone away from her face, glancing at the time. The fucker was right. “Oh, shit.” 

“So you had a really fun night,” Jack teases. Deni can hear the smug smile in his voice.

“We’re not talking about me,” Deni whines, sitting up in her bed. “We’re talking about how you broke into my phone and gave yourself a ring tone and how your date went.”

“You act like our passcodes haven’t been each other's birthdays for years.” Deni rolls her eyes, a smile on her face as she pulls her knees up to her chest. “And she was great, but I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” she asks him as if he’s a small child who has done something silly. 

“Well, she doesn’t like hockey.”

“So she has taste.”

“Den,” Jack whines. “I don’t know. There just was nothing that had me excited about her. She’s nice and smart, but she felt like just another person, not a person I want to spend my life with.”

“It was one date, not a marriage proposal. But that's fine. You’re probably not going to find ‘the one,’ on your first try.” She hears Jack groan, followed by him hitting his leg against something in his apartment with him swearing. “Your lights are off and you walked into your coffee table again, didn’t you?”

“I don’t like you.”

“You’re right, you love me.”

“Of course.” 

“So, we find you someone else to date.”

“God, how long does this have to go on?”

“Until you find the person you want to spend your life with.” 

__________________________

The guy in front of her had not asked her a question in twenty minutes. He spent the entire time talking about himself. She wasn’t even sure that he noticed that her eyes were entirely glazed over as she looked just past him. Her attention focused on Jack instead, who was on a date with someone he apparently met at Trader Joe’s the other day, his dates back to Deni. 

He had a sly smile on his face that she didn’t like. 

She felt her watch vibrate with a notification. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be looking at your date, not me?’

Deni makes eye contact with him, rolling her eyes.

“And that made me realize that women shouldn’t be in charge of major businesses, so I left.” 

Deni turns back to her date, only hearing that last sentence. She found Aiden on a dating app. He was hot, his profile said the right things, and he seemed to be able to hold a conversation. As Deni learned after two guys from dating apps, however, the person on a screen is much different than the person in real life. 

“That certainly,” she starts, trying to find the words as the guy doesn’t even make eye contact with her, looking proud of himself as he finally scans the menu. “Is a sentence. I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

Deni runs from the table before Aiden can even make a comment. She looks back at her table before heading down the hallway with the restrooms; Aiden doesn’t even look like he’s bothered. 

“So how are we getting out of here?” Jack scares her as she scrolls on her phone, restoring to refreshing her email every three seconds to see if anything new comes in while the one bathroom is occupied.

“I need to put a bell on you,” Deni mutters, putting her phone in her pocket. “I don’t think my date believes women are able to hold a job.” 

“He’s sitting with you, and he doesn’t think women are able to work?”

Deni shrugs. “Men?”

“I’m sorry for our species. My date told me she expects to get married, get a joint bank account, and never have to work for anything because everything should be handed to her.” 

Deni nods, processing that for a second. “As she should,” she says sincerely. “We should introduce our dates to each other.”

Jack's eyes light up. “We could do that, you know.” 

“He kind of seems like an asshole, though. I wouldn’t want to do that to her.”

Jack’s shoulders deflate. “We do have to be girls girls.” 

Deni tries not to laugh at him. “Always, Jack.” 

__________________________

Deni hadn’t heard from Jack since yesterday. During his season, that was normal; he was getting paid to focus on hockey so he forgot his phone existed more than once depending on who they were playing next. But when he had a date planned, he would text her about before, sometimes during if it was bad, and always come by after. Not hearing from him was worrying.

Who was this girl that had Jack so occupied that he forgot about his best friend like this? Who was she that Jack couldn’t tell Deni anything about it? 

And who was this girl that made Deni feel like an elephant was sitting on her chest, her heart aching at the thought of Jack being taken away from her. Obviously, she knew deep down that if Jack found the girl of his dreams, that he would pay more attention to her, and shower her with everything she deserved. Deni knew that it meant she wouldn’t be the most important person in his life, because his dream girl is supposed to be his focus. 

She hated it. And she hated it more that she knew why she felt this way. The names may change of the guys in front of her on her various stupid and pointless and horrible dates, but her feelings for Jack have never changed. She knew they never would. 

She checked his location on her phone, the app for some reason not updating for her. The last time it updated was the last time she heard from him. 

What if something was wrong? 

Deni could feel herself starting to panic at every worst case scenario from the true crime podcasts Jack would make her listen to. She should call him.

She couldn’t call him. How would she feel if she was on a date with a guy and he left her to talk to a girl best friend? 

“You know what I realized?” jolts her out of her downward spiral, a voice coming from her front door that made her heart race. 

She follows the sound, shoes clattering to the floor by the door, keys being thrown on the small table that’s right there. Jack sounded like he was coming home. “What?”

“Well, my date made me realize it. She’s a therapist. It’s weird being analyzed like that, but I guess we do that to each other without realizing it.”

“Jack, get to the point.” 

“Right, yeah,” he makes his way toward him, a look on his face that made Deni feel warm while simultaneously sending a shiver down her spine. “I realized the type of girl I want.”

Deni smiles, rolling her eyes. The way he was looking at her, she knew what he meant. She had to let him tell her, first. “It took you long enough.” 

“I want a girl who can make me laugh.” He takes a tentative step toward her. He’s nervous. “A girl who isn’t afraid to call me out when I’m being an idiot.”

“She’s gotta be quick on her feet then,” Deni says, watching his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows, his eyes flicking down to her lips as she takes her turn to step toward him.

“I want someone I feel comfortable around. I want to be able to see her and go into her life like I belong in it, not like I’m a guest.” Deni looks around at her entrance; the stuff there a mix of his and hers over the time that they’ve known each other. He’s left more things in her place than she thought he had in his own apartment. 

He takes a deep breath before he continues. “I want a girl who makes me feel stupid.” 

“You don’t need a girl for that.” He was saying all the things she already knew he wanted. She just didn’t realize that she wanted him, too. He rolls his eyes, the smile on his face telling her that he loved her comment. “I want that.”

“What?”

He doesn’t answer, instead closing the distance between them, his hands taking her face as his lips crash to hers. He kissed her like he was angry, the kind of intensity and passion that Deni had only dreamed of in this kiss. 

It was everything she didn’t know she wanted. 

It was everything she knew she didn’t want to let go of for as long as she could.

It was everything. 

There was no way her alarm was already going off. She had just fallen asleep.

Alicia felt around her nightstand for her phone, trying to get the infernal device to stop blaring. 5:30 am was too early to be getting up.

She didn't help herself by going to sleep at 2:30 the night before. Actually, 2:30 that morning. Three hours before. But, as she did every summer break, she ruined her sleep schedule and needed to train herself back into her school year sleeping. Last night did nothing to help. In-service the week before didn't do enough to get her back into her normal routine either, not that it mattered. She was not back to her normal sleep schedule for the first day of school.

Which was today.

She wasn't ready. She was never ready, to be honest, but this year felt especially off. She had a new class she was teaching that she still barely had a plan for, a new set of students for homeroom, and something just wasn't right.

Alicia finally got her alarm off, putting her phone back down before sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Today was going to be rough.

She starts to go through her routine, doing her best to stay awake: go to the bathroom, get dressed, get her coffee started, eat something at lightning speed, brush her teeth, and head out the door with her bag full of things for her classroom that she forgot to bring in every day last week.

The drive to school was mundane, as it should be. It was early enough that she missed the school traffic, as well as most other work traffic given that it was the ass-crack of dawn and most people, much like herself, were still half asleep on the unfortunately dreary Monday morning. She was the first person on campus, as she was every morning, because she worked best when no one was around her.

She could probably get her entire life together with the peace and quiet she was about to find in her classroom if she weren't so fucking tired.

Her classroom looked like a bomb had gone off. While that was nothing new for her, this was particularly bad. Her supplies were everywhere, her desk was a mess, her walls were bare. She planned to get everything put together last week but they were only scheduled forty five minutes of classroom time. Who was that supposed to help? They weren't allowed in their rooms before that week to set up because of the cleaning schedule.

Alicia gets to work, trying to get as much of her classroom back together as she could before students started to show up. She pulled one of the desks closer to the wall, hoping up on it in a way that was definitely an OSHA violation to hang something from her ceiling.

A knock at her door nearly startles her off the table and onto the floor. Luke pops his head in, a concerned look on his face when he sees her. "What the fuck are you doing?'

"A student could hear you," she scolds, jumping off the table and pulling him into her classroom. His hands wrap around her waist as soon as the door shuts behind him, his lips pressing against hers immediately. "A student could see us."

He pouts when she tries to push him off, a smirk on her face at his reaction. "But I haven't seen you in so long," he whines, his grip on her tightening.

"I saw you," she checks her watch, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head at the time, "God, it's already 7:30? I saw you like, five hours ago."

Luke continues to whine, dramatically throwing himself on top of one of her tables. She ignores him, getting back to setting up as much as she could when she only had half an hour left before school officially started for the year.

"You could make yourself useful, you know," she tells him, tossing him a roll of tape and pointing to the stack of posters she still needed to hang up.

"What's in it for me?" he sits up, a devilish grin on his face. She knew what that glint in his eye meant, the feeling deep inside her making her face heat up. He hops off the table, coming toward her after grabbing the posters, his gaze never leaving her.

"You have the satisfaction of knowing you were the perfect boyfriend of a teacher." She swallows the lump that formed in her throat. She could hear students walking around outside her classroom. Any of them could come in at any minute.

"You didn't help me set up my room." His voice is low as he gets closer to her.

Alicia smirks, turning her back to him. "That's because you don't need to do anything except get your picture of you and your brothers on your desk. Your room is a barren wasteland."

She raises her hands to start to hang the poster when she feels Luke press against her back. "I like it that way."

"You like it because it's less work that way." His hands raise over hers, pinning her against her wall.

"Exactly," he whispers, his breath tickling her ear.

Alicia does her best to turn around, Luke still caging her in against him. His eyes are dark as he stares at her, the reason she didn't sleep last night rushing back to her and replaying in her mind in vivid detail. His lips find her neck, trailing their way across her collarbone.

"Anyone could walk in right now."

She arches her back slightly, his hips grinding against hers. He was way too excited for the setting.

"So, what do we do about it?"

She stares at him, her list of things to do running through her head. She had to finish setting up her classroom. She had to grab her syllabi from the faculty room. Both she and Luke were supposed to be at the welcome assembly that was starting in less than twenty minutes.

“That we’re done,” he clarifies for her.

She can feel her chest start to tighten, a lump forming in her throat. “Yeah.” 

Mimi hangs up without letting him get in another word, telling herself that she didn’t want to let him listen to the first sob that came out of her. She couldn’t read the text that he had sent trying to make sense of what just happened, telling her that he loved her and knew she loved him, that he wanted to figure this out and get through whatever was going on.

________________________

“You should totally post this photo,” Stella tells her, her mouth hanging open while she stared at Mimi’s phone screen. 

“Are you sure?” Mimi leans over her friend's shoulder, trying to look at Stella’s handiwork. Mimi was facing the arena, the back of the jersey her mom got her for Christmas a couple of years ago on full display as she looked back over her shoulder, her ponytail covering part of Hischier’s name. 

“Babe, you look so hot.” Stella opens up Mimi’s account, drafting up a post for her roommate. 

Mimi tries to snatch the phone from her before she could do anything, her taller friend holding the phone over her head while people around them filter into the arena, probably thinking these two girls outside were acting ridiculous. They were, but that wasn’t going to stop Mimi. 

Stella manages to get the picture posted, despite Mimi saying she wasn’t sure. “You look hot, shut up and let everyone see it.”

“You’re the worst.” 

“And you love me anyway.” 

They go into the game, Mimi ignoring the notifications that were coming up on her screen from Instagram despite the ego boost she denied they gave her. She could have spent the entire game on her phone, just scrolling through notifications and making her head bigger than it should be. 

“So?” Stella asks after the first period when the two of them head to the concourse to get food. “Was I right?”

Mimi had her phone in her hand, showing Stella her screen and scrolling for what seemed like forever to the end of the notifications she had yet to open. “Fine.”

“Tell me I was right,” Stella gloats.

Mimi rolls her eyes. “This kind of shit is why I broke up with Sofia, if you remember.”

“You broke up with her because she was an awful girlfriend in general, not because she was right more often than you were.” Mimi ignores her, continuing to scroll through the notifications while Stella looks over her shoulder. “Wait, woah, go back.”

Mimi scrolls back down, waiting for Stella to tell her to stop. “There’s no way.”

Stella starts jumping up and down, trying not to bring too much attention to them this time. “Did he comment on your photo?”

“Did you tag him in the photo?” 

Stella smirks. “There’s no harm in trying.” 

“I can’t believe you.” 

“What does it say?”

“No.” 

“It has to say more than just, ‘no.’”

“No, I mean,” Mimi says, moving up in the line. “I’m not gonna read it here.”

“Why not?” Stella whines.

“What if he thinks the picture is weird to tag him in? I don’t want to see that while he’s literally on the ice,” she says in a hushed voice. 

“What if he doesn’t?”

“I don’t want to read it.” 

The game ends, Stella somehow gaining full control over Mimi’s phone as the two of them head out to a bar after a quick pit stop at home to change, despite Mimi’s protest for wanting to stay home and read her book instead. Her bed was right there, after all. 

“Go do your thing,” Stella says, heading off to find a table for the two of them while Mimi tries to secure drinks. 

“Hey,” Mimi approaches one guy, pulling out a trick that she got from one of her books. “Buy me a drink if I beat you at tic-tac-toe.”

The guy looks perplexed, agreeing while his friends root him on, Mimi grabbing a napkin from the bar counter and pulling a pen out of her bag. She normally won, considering the fact that the guys were normally too drunk by the time she got to them to think straight enough to play the game. 

This time was no different. She won easily. 

“What do you want?” the guy asks, his friends making fun of him for losing and putting him in a foul mood. 

“Vodka Sour,” she asks for Stella’s drink.

She gets the drink and leaves before he can say or do anything else, heading back to Stella with her drink in hand. 

“Free?”

“Free,” she confirms, seeing her phone in Stella’s hands. “What are you doing?”

Stella smirks, a facial expression that makes her nervous. “Nothing.”

Mimi nods. “I’m gonna try and find another guy.” 

She heads back to the bar, scanning for another person she could get a drink from. She sees a guy talking to a friend, looking nervous. He looked sweet. Maybe she could actually talk to him and bring his friend over for Stella, too.

“Want to play tic-tac-toe?” she asks him, the guy looking like a deer in headlights. “Winner buys drinks?”

“I’ll play,” she hears behind her, the two guys eyes getting wide as they stare at the person. “Mimi, right?”

“Nico?” 

He smiles at her, taking a step closer and reaching over her shoulder to grab a napkin. He brushes against her, sending a shock through her body. “Let’s play.” 

________________________

Mimi gets to baggage claim, trying her best to ignore the fact that she was supposed to be here with Nico, not by herself, as she gets home for Christmas. He wasn’t even going to be with her for that long because of his schedule, but it was supposed to be something, at least. He knew Christmas was her favorite holiday, her favorite time of year, and instead of being with her like he was supposed to be, he was back in New Jersey. 

“Emilia,” she hears her mom calling her name, way louder than she needed to be since there were only about five other people around the carousel, the airport surprisingly empty considering it was December 23rd. Her mother came running up to her, practically tackling her into the bags that were starting to roll around as her father sighed, grabbing Mimi’s bag. 

“Where’s Gram?” Mimi asks. Every single time she came home, without fail, no matter what time of day it was, her grandmother was always there to see her when she got off the plane.

“She’s with Uncle Sam in New York for this Christmas, remember?” Mimi nods, not remembering the conversation her mother goes on to claim they had weeks ago. It was weird that her grandmother wasn’t there. “Where’s Nico?”

Mimi hesitates, another thing that was wrong. She hadn’t told her parents yet. She didn’t know how to. “His practice schedule changed at the last minute, so he had to stay back. He’s going to let me know later if he’s going to be able to come out here.”

Her father nods, incredibly indifferent. Despite how much he seemed to adore Nico, he would rather have less people around the house so he didn’t get overstimulated when he was cooking. More people meant more food he had to keep track of. 

Her mother on the other hand. “Oh, no. He’s not coming? But we haven’t seen him in so long. What if we Facetime him, tell him we can pay for the ticket for him to come. Where’s your phone?”

Mimi swats off her mother’s hand, trying to follow her dad out to their car so she could go home and go to sleep. “Mother, money is not the problem, I promise. He can’t help his practice schedule,” she lies. 

Her mother continues to fret, walking to the car going on and on about how she wished she had known so she didn’t spend all the extra time preparing for Mimi’s boyfriend to come home with her. Mimi lets out a sigh, climbing into the backseat as her father loads her bags into the trunk.

________________________

“Where are we going?” Mimi asks, climbing into Nico’s passenger seat once his car pulls to a stop in front of her building.

He smirks, leaning across the center console, giving her a kiss, one hand on the wheel with another cupping her face. “It’s a surprise.” 

“That’s what someone would say before they dump the body,” Mimi jokes as Nico pulls away from the curb.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Mimi,” Nico groans, Mimi noticing the smile on his face regardless of his tone. They had been dating for about a month now, spending more time with him than she spent with Stella despite the fact they lived together. It wasn’t her fault; she couldn’t say no to him when he asked her to do something, no matter what it was. 

Mimi shrugs, a teasing look on her face. “Think about it, it would be perfect to take me to some far off location to commit a felony when I have no idea where we’re going.” 

“Stella has your location.”

“You could steal my phone.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Mimi, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“Then where are we going?”

“Can’t I surprise you? Please?” he begs, his tone turning a little more serious. 

She sighs, staring out the window as he drives away from the city in an attempt to hide the smile on her face. “I guess.” 

The snow on the ground became more pristine the longer he drove, untouched and perfect as they got away from the more densely populated area they lived in. The trees lining the streets made her wish she lived out here, giving that illusion of serenity that you couldn’t get in the city. 

Nico pulled off the road to follow a gravel path, lined with a wooden fence on either side, just barely wide enough for the car to fit down. 

“This is definitely the perfect place for a murder,” Mimi jokes.

“Jeez,” Nico sighs. “We’re doing something fun.” 

Mimi sees the sign in front of her as Nico starts to slow down, a Christmas tree farm in front of them. She looks at Nico, who was already staring at her with a smile on his face. “So?”

“We’re getting a tree?” Mimi said, feeling herself getting giddy as she unbuckled her seatbelt, practically jumping out of the car.

Nico joins her, taking his hand in hers and leading her closer to the plethora of trees in front of them. “You said you used to love going with your dad and cutting down the perfect tree when you were younger. These are pre-cut, but I figured you could help me pick out the perfect one for my place.”

________________________

“You already have the tree up?” Mimi asks, her heart dropping when she walks into her parents house, seeing what was supposed to be a tradition between her and her dad already there. They never got the tree this early. And they certainly never had it already decorated with lights.

“Mimi,” her mother starts as she beelines for the tree.

“It’s not even real.” Her mouth hangs open as she examines the fake, plastic monstrosity before her, the lights on the tree because it came prelit. “You got a fake tree.”

“Donohue retired.” Mimi stared at her dad, the sad look in his eyes mirroring her own. “There was nowhere to get a real tree this year.”

Mimi nods, knowing it was stupid to get upset over something so trivial, that feeling that something . “We still have all our ornaments, right?”

Her mother comes over to her, putting her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “You think we could get rid of those?”

________________________

“What are you doing today?” Nico’s voice comes through Mimi’s phone. 

“Nothing.”

“Now you’re not.” Mimi could hear his smile. “I’m picking you up in five minutes.”

Mimi hangs up without another word, rushing to get ready for him. 

He knocks on her door moments later, coat in hand with plastic bags full of stuff there with him. “Hi,” he says, using his free hand to pull her in for a kiss.

“Hi.” She looks at the bags in his hands, trying to suss out why he had craft supplies with him. “What’s all this?”

“Well,” he starts, pushing past her and heading for her kitchen table, placing the bags down and starting to clear the surface off. “After we got my tree, I realized I don’t have anything to put on it.”

Mimi watches him taking out everything from the bags; paint, markers, stencils, scissors, paper, pipe cleaners; it looked like he raided the store purge style for everything you could possibly think of. “And?”

He organizes everything into piles in front of them, gesturing to his haul. “I thought we could make some ornaments together.” 

Mimi laughs, her heart fluttering as Nico beams at her. “How good are you at arts and crafts?”

Nico smirks. “Horrible. You?”

“Awful.”

“Then this will be fun.”

________________________

“Hey, what time is Celeste getting here?” Mimi asks as she hangs up one her ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ Ornament as high as she could, something she has done every year since she could walk. Her sister was supposed to be getting in before she did if her memory served her correctly. 

Her parents exchange looks behind her back, thinking Mimi didn’t catch them. “She got snowed in.” 

“What?” she asks, nearly dropping the ornament her great-grandmother made. “So when is she going to get here?”

“The snow isn’t supposed to clear until tomorrow.”

“So she should be able to get here tomorrow, then?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Maybe?” Mimi screams. This was an overreaction on her part, but it was now the third thing that had been wrong with this Christmas, on top of Nico breaking up with her right before she was getting on the plane. “Celeste has to come to Christmas. Where else will she go?”

“She would be with Quinn and his family, I would assume,” her mother says, referring to her sister’s fiance.

Mimi just nods, knowing there was nothing she could do to control it. That didn’t mean she couldn’t still feel upset about it. 

The rest of the day feels like a blur, a weird emptiness knowing her sister wasn’t going to be showing up like she was supposed to, her grandmother was spending Christmas on the other side of the country, and the tree wasn’t real like it had been for as long as she could remember.

That and she kept checking her phone, expecting a text from Nico to show up on her screen, despite the fact that he hadn’t texted her in weeks. 

“Hey, Emilia,” her dad pulls her out of her trance, standing in front of her with the car keys. “Want to run out and grab some things with me?

________________________

“Stop bouncing your leg, you’re shaking the car,” Nico reaches over and presses down on Mimi’s thigh, trying to get her to stop.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, sinking further into his passenger seat. She looks out the window, snow everywhere, less and less cars on the road as they get to the cabin Nico’s friends rented out for the weekend. They had a rare break between games without so much as a practice (according to Nico, this was unheard of), so some of his friends took the opportunity to get away from home for a while and just relax somewhere else.

It looked like Nico was driving her into her death.

It was worse, actually. She had to meet new people and interact with them without anywhere to retreat.

“Our room is the only one on the top floor if they get to be too much,” Nico says, reading her mind. “They’re going to love you.”

They had just had the ‘what are we conversation,’ where Nico let her know that he considered her to be his girlfriend a while ago. Apparently, Nico’s entire team had been referring to Mimi as Nico’s girlfriend for the last month. It was time to actually meet them, and Mimi felt like she would rather run out into the wilderness and disappear with the bears. 

Mimi lets out a deep breath as he turns down the road the GPS told him to turn down. This couldn’t be that bad, could it?

As soon Nico pulled up in front of the cabin, the car seemed to be surrounded by his teammates, screaming about god only knows what and opening every door despite not needing to.

“You said you were bringing the beer,” Luke whines. 

“I did,” Nico deadpans. “You’re barely old enough to drink, calm down.”

“Luke, go back inside,”Jack says, reaching up and trying to mess with Luke’s hair. Luke stomps back inside, Mimi hearing him muttering something about being treated like a child. “He’ll be fine.” 

“I told you not to bring him,” Nico says, handing his teammate the aforementioned case of beer. “He’s too young.”

“Ok, Dad,” he says, Nico rolling his eyes. “You know as well as I do that I couldn’t leave him home when all of us were here.”

Nico hands Mimi her bag from the trunk once she gets out of the car, taking her hand in his and leading her into the cabin. “That’s Jack and Luke.”

Mimi nods, recognizing them from long before she and Nico even started dating. Nico, for some reason, had a habit of forgetting that she actually knew the sport and the team well enough, growing up with her dad being a fan of them since they were in Kansas City and passing it onto her as they relocated to Devner, then to East Rutherford. She probably knew more about the Devils as a franchise because of her father than Nico did as captain. 

They get inside, the heat hitting Mimi’s face. The inside of the cabin was beautiful, the walls entirely made of wood with light fixtures that looked like oil lamps attached to the walls. Thankfully, there were no dead animals stuck to the walls as she had feared, but a huge TV mounted in front of the couches, playing none other than an NHL game on the screen. 

“There’s Dawson, Jesper, and Nate,” Nico points, the three guys waving to them. 

Mimi pulls Nico aside. “I thought you said they were bringing their partners, too.” 

Nico blinks at her. “None of them are seeing anyone.”

“So it’s just you, me, and your teammates?”

Nico nods. “Yeah, of course.”

Mimi nods slowly, biting the inside of her cheek. “I think I’m going to head up to our room.”

Mimi layed on the bed she and Nico were going to share in the cabin, trying to read while Nico and his teammates were screaming downstairs, clearly already drunk despite them only being there for two hours. This wasn’t how the weekend was supposed to go. She was supposed to meet his teammates and their partners as Nico had told her, so she wouldn’t be alone with the guys.

It’s not that she didn’t think she would have fun, it’s just not what she was expecting. 

She hears a knock on the door as she stares up at the ceiling, her book laying facedown, open, on her chest. She was making no progress. Nico pokes his head in before she can say anything. “Can we talk?”

Mimi nods, sitting up and marking her place in her book. 

“You’re mad at me.” Nico sits down on the bed by her feet. 

She sighs. “I’m not mad.”

“But you aren’t happy with me.” 

“I’m annoyed that you didn’t tell me what I was getting into this weekend.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?” Nico pleaded with her. The look on his face made her chest ache, knowing that he actually wanted to do that. 

Mimi exhales. “Give me,” she hesitates. “Like an hour?”

“Ok.” Nico nods. She stares at him for a second, neither of them moving while the sound of his teammates laughter rings through the house. “Are you not going to go back down?”

“Not without you.” 

“I’m just going to sit here and read,” she tells him, giving him a suspicious look. 

Nico nods again, shifting to rest his back against the headboard, his arm raised for her to cuddle right into. “That’s fine.” 

The two fell into a comfortable silence, Mimi feeling Nico’s eyes on her while she read her book. They stayed that way for two hours, just enough time for Mimi to think of herself as the character in the book falling in love with the man she was going to spend her life with. 

________________________

The two of them drive in silence, Mimi not really caring where they were going. She keeps resisting the urge to check her phone, knowing that she would see her background instead of any notification she would actually care about. 

“So, kid,” her father starts, pulling into the grocery store parking lot. “Nico isn’t coming, is he?”

Mimi looks out the window, pursing her lips and shaking her head. “No.”

“Are you two alright?”

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

He parks the car, sitting there for a moment. “Ok. Let’s go in.” 

“What are we doing here, anyway?” The two of them walk through the aisles, her dad pushing a carriage with the loudest wheel possible. He had a talent for picking out the most rickety one every time, somehow not caring and not getting annoyed as he shopped.

He starts pulling things from the shelves, ingredients Mimi recognized as being for her favorite ricotta cookies, the recipe that had been passed down through her family from her great-great-grandparents. “Mom thought it would be fun to make these again this year.”

Mimi smiles, looking at his cart to see what he still needed that she could grab. The last thing he needed, the most important ingredient, was the ricotta. She heads over to the cheese, scouring the case for the right one.

“Any luck?” her father appears behind her, seeing the frown on her face. She shakes her head, staring at the case. They had to have the ricotta. They couldn’t make ricotta cookies without it. Her father flags down an employee.

They shrug, shoving their hands in their jean pockets. “If it’s not out here, we must be out. The trucks haven’t been coming in with everything lately.” 

Mimi looks at her dad as the employee stalks away. “What do we do?”

Her dad shrugs, staring at the cart. “We can check another store later, but I guess we can’t make them tonight.”

________________________

The first snowfall of the year happened abnormally early; in October, actually. The last time Mimi remembered an October snowstorm was around 2010, when she was eleven. That resulted in most of her life getting shut down for the week, but at least she didn’t have to go to school.

Mimi remembered staying in while her father cleared the driveway, her and Celeste sitting at the door near the back porch and staring towards the sky while the snow fell toward them, pretending that they were being transported to a different winter wonderland that wasn’t their backyard. Their mother would make mac and cheese and turn on a movie for Celeste while Mimi curled up on the couch, cuddling with her mother while she read whatever book she could get her hands on. The hot chocolate always came later, with extra marshmallows. 

As she got older, it meant no school, then no work, but always snuggling on the couch under her warmest blanket, a movie playing in the background while she read with a mug of hot chocolate next to her. 

She sits down on her couch, getting ready to spend the day not moving when someone is buzzing her apartment to come up, a text from Nico letting her know it was him.

“What are you doing here?” she asks when she opens her door. 

He smiles at her, making her heart skip a beat as he bends down to kiss her. “Practice and the game got cancelled tonight, I thought I would stop by since your location said you were home.” 

“Oh,” she lets out, cringing at the disappointment that she heard come through her voice. She watched Nico’s smile falter.

“Do you want me to go?”

Mimi looked out the window, watching the snow fall even harder than it had just mere minutes ago, Nico already covered in snow as it was. “No, no, it’s not safe for you.”

Nico nods, unsure what to do. 

“I was just about to read my book,” Mimi says, taking his hand and leading him in. 

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “I thought we could just kinda,” his voice trailed off, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and the hallway leading to her bedroom. “But that’s fine. You can read your book.” 

“I do this every snow day,” Mimi tries not to whine, sitting down on her couch and clutching her book. 

Nico exhales, nodding. “That’s fine,” he repeats, clearing his throat. “What else do you do?” 

Nico sits down next to her, Mimi pulling her book closer to her chest. “I just,” she starts, feeling her heartbeat rising for no reason that she could think of. 

“Hey, hey,” Nico coos, gently bringing her into his chest. He kissed the top of her head, one hand rubbing her back while the other rested on her lap. “I can leave. If you don’t want me here, I will leave. If it’s not safe to go I will just sit in the hallway.”

Mimi lets out a strangled laugh, picturing him playing games on his phone while he posted up outside her door, probably staying there until one of her neighbors ventured out of their place and called someone to come take away the man sitting outside an apartment he didn’t live in. “I put on a movie in the background and then just sit with my blanket and read it.” 

“Can I join you?”

“You want to watch the movie or do you want a book?” Nico shifts, getting up and heading down the hall to her room. “That’s not an answer,” she calls after him.

He comes back, waving a book in his hands. “I’ll read and then if I get bored, I’ll fall back on the movie.”

Mimi stares at the book he picked, her heart swelling in her chest. “That’s my favorite book.”

“I know. That’s why I want to read it again.” 

________________________

Mimi and her father finally get home, the one missing ingredient for some reason impossible to find and the remaining groceries unable to be left in the car for much longer without ruining them, too. 

“I’ll head out in the morning again and see if I can find it,” her dad tries to reassure her when he pulls into the driveway. 

She heads inside to her old room. Every little thing has gone wrong so far, it seemed, but why should it bother her? She was going to be with her family at Christmas, something she hadn’t really been able to do the last few years because of work. Her sister might not be here,or her grandmother, or her boyfriend, but still with her parents.

Her ex-boyfriend.

Staring at the walls of the room she grew up in, seeing the posters from the musicals that she was in when she was in middle school and high school taped above her bed, the game-day posters from the games she went to with her dad as a child surrounding her closet, the awards she won for various random clubs and activities she did in order to go to college where she did above her bookcase. 

Mimi thinks back to her packing job, trying to remember what books she brought with her for the trip. She had the one she read while she was in the airport and on the plane, but she finished that right before her plane landed, putting that back in her bag and spending the rest of the time in the air logging the book rather than starting another one. Did she even bring another one?

She remembers plugging in her e-reader before she started packing, but did she ever unplug it and pack it? She texts Stella to check and unplug it so she doesn’t murder her prized possession while away. 

“Mom,” Mimi yells, not waiting for any acknowledgement. “What books do you have?”

“Check our bedroom,” she hears, heading to the bookcase that’s against the wall. 

“I’ve read all of these,” she yells back, trying not to let a whining tone come through her voice. And she actually had. Most of her parents were her old books that she had read that she gave to them, or that she bought separate copies of for them. The books her parents got on their own somehow found their way into Mimi’s hands, leaving her with nothing. 

Her mom appears in the doorway, a concerned look on her face while she watches her daughter stare defeated at the books. She checks her watch, grabbing her wallet from her closet. “Take my library card and check out what you want. They’re still open for another hour or so.” Mimi takes the card and stares at it. She wasn’t even sure if this was allowed. Wasn’t it some sort of fraud to use someone else’s library card? “I have a book on hold, I’ll call them and let them know they can give it to you. Go.”

Mimi gets pushed out the door and handed the keys, faster than she can even process what was going on. 

She hadn’t been inside her hometown library since she was in high school, everything still exactly the same except for the self check out computers they added for when the librarians were busy. They had set up a holiday book display, Mimi beelining there in hopes of finding anything that could potentially put her in a better mood. 

Mimi picks up a book with two girls on the cover, some sapphic holiday romance that had been on her radar since October when someone she followed on social media had posted about it. 

“Emilia?” She snaps away from the book to see a guy standing in front of her, someone who she swore looked familiar but couldn’t, for the life of her, remember why she knew him. “Niall Walsh.”

The guy she went to junior prom with. Shit, he looked good. “Of course, how are you?” she asks him, trying to sound enthusiastic about seeing him. She just needed to get books and go home.

“Good, good. You’re still out in New Jersey?”

They fall into a stupid conversation, Mimi trying to back away and find more books for her stay. She needed at least three to survive the holiday. 

“A bunch of us are heading to the green later to skate, you should join us,” Niall offers, starting to list off people from high school Mimi hadn’t kept in touch with.

“That sounds so nice, but I’ve gotta help my mom with stuff for the holidays.” 

Niall finally says goodbye with his books in hand, letting her know that she was still welcome to join if she had the time.

She didn’t want to go ice skating. It made her think of Nico. 

________________________

“For fucks sake,” Mimi huffs, kicking the door open. “Next time we want to move, we’re not doing it in the middle of winter, and we aren’t doing it in the middle of your season.”

Nico laughs, getting up from the couch and grabbing the box from her. They had been together for over a year, finally making the decision to move in together. “Both of our leases were up and you would hate moving in the summer, too.”

“I’m somehow sweating and freezing. This is awful.” 

“How many more boxes are in your car?”

“All my books.” 

“There’s no way you fit all of those in your car.”

Mimi makes a face, taking Nico’s hand and dragging him back downstairs. “Stella might also be there with her car full of my books.”

Nico sighs with a lazy smile on his face, puts his arm around her and pulls her close as they walk outside and kisses the side of her head. “That’s my girl.”

“You have too many fucking books,” Stella mutters, opening her trunk. “I nearly died because I couldn’t see out my windows.”

“You were probably fine,” Nico deadpans, checking his phone. “Jack and Luke said they’ll be here in an hour with the truck.” 

“You’re meeting them back at our place?”

“My place.”

“Your place.” The two stare at each other, the gravity of Mimi moving out just about to hit them.

Nico clears his throat, hoping to distract them long enough that they can have their moment inside rather than out on the street. “Let’s get these books inside before it gets dark out.”

The girls unload the cars, boxes upon boxes of books being brought up to the new apartment and placed haphazardly throughout the space. 

“Where are all of these going, anyway?” Stella huffs, setting down a book that Mimi had labelled as ‘Fantasy,’ meaning that all of her biggest books were stuffed in there.

“We have the second bedroom that we’re turning into a reading space,” Nico says. 

Stella nods. “Well,” she straightens her back, all of them feeling the pain of moving too many boxes. “I’m going to go back and meet the idiots for the rest.” She leaves before the girls can say anything else to each other, both of them avoiding the fact that they wouldn’t be living together anymore after nearly seven years. They were so close to having a common law marriage.

Mimi looks at Nico, staring at all the boxes scattered around them. “We have to unpack these.” 

Nico smiles at her. “I have a better idea.” 

Mimi eyes him curiously, watching him head to one of the closets that she still wasn’t sure held, Nico pulling things out. “Ice skates?” she asks, staring at the two pairs in his hands.

“There’s a pond that’s frozen over behind the building, we can take a break before it gets dark.” 

“We’ve never gone skating before,” Mimi points out. “You don’t even know if I can.”

Nico hands her the pair meant for her, taking her hand and grabbing his keys as they head out. “You’re probably better than me.”

“Obviously. You’re pretty shit at skating, aren’t you?” she teases him.

Nico laughs. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

________________________

“Did you leave any books for other people?” her dad teases her when she comes back through the door.

“There’s still all the books written by Republicans.”

“Do they know how to write books?”

Mimi hears her mother scold him for that one, trying to stifle her own laugh so she isn’t scolded as well. “I have enough books for the time that I’m here. I think. Don’t worry.” 

Mimi heads up to her room, flopping down on her bed with a book open in her hand. She didn’t need anyone else to be here for it to be Christmas for her. She could just be with her parents and whatever other family they had coming over this year. 

She reads her book, a group of friends going to one of their parents' houses for the holidays because none of them have anywhere else to do until they realize that two of them were not only together previously, but one had left the other at the altar. 

Mimi sits up straight on her bed, shutting the book as fast as she could. She had to stop going into books blind. Every time, without fail, they reminded her of the things that were going wrong in her life.

________________________

“When do we have to leave?” Nico asks, his arms wrapped around Mimi as they lay in bed, the snow falling outside and coating the window, his bare chest against hers. 

Mimi hums, turning herself to nestle into his shoulder. She didn’t want to leave this moment. “Our flight is at noon.” 

Mimi was heading home for Thanksgiving this year, bringing Nico home with her for the first time. Her parents had met him before, but this was her whole family now. They had been dating for two years at this point, living together for almost a year, and at this point, they both decided it was time to meet her family.

It was terrifying. 

“Ugh, shit,” Nico groans, letting go of her and getting out of bed. “I need to shower, then.” 

Mimi lays in their bed for a few moments, trying to fathom taking a boy home with her. Not just any boy, but the one she lived with, the one she loved.

One of the phones on the nightstand makes some noise, Mimi hearing the shower starting in the bathroom. She reaches over for the one lit up, not sure whose she was grabbing. 

Her mom’s first name came up as the contact sending a message.

“Nico, my mom is texting you.” 

She hears something fall in the shower. “You can just leave it,” he yells back, a weird tone in his voice.

Why would her mom be texting him? Normally, she texted both of them in a group chat that included her father, Celeste, and Quinn, regardless of who she actually needed to talk to. Her mom never even texted her separately, even on her birthday. 

Mimi knew Nico’s passcode. She could just open his phone and look at what they were talking about. 

But why would she do that? Mimi shook her head, putting the phone back on the nightstand and started to get ready, pushing the thought of Nico and her mom talking about something that she couldn’t know about from her mind every time it popped up. 

They had to focus on finishing up the last of their packing and getting to the airport, which they had less than an hour to get to, at this point. 

“Babe, hurry up,” she yells, throwing the last things they needed in their bags, Nico still in the bathroom fucking around. “We need to leave, like, five minutes ago.” 

“I’m good, I’m ready,” he says, emerging from the bathroom, his hair still soaked. “And we have plenty of time before we need to leave.” He grabs his phone, Mimi seeing him open the text from her mom and a smile growing on his face. 

________________________

Mimi finishes one book and quickly moves onto the next, losing track of time. The last thing she remembered, the SecUnit was freaking out about dying and not saving its humans. 

Next thing she knows, it’s three am, her lights are still on, her book is still in her hand miraculously with her page saved by her finger, and something was making noise downstairs. Actually, someone.

Mimi practically launches herself out of bed, finding the kitchen lights on and her sister checking the fridge. “What the fuck?” she breathes out, grabbing Celeste into a hug. 

“Hi, to you, too,” Celeste laughs, Quinn in the background going through cabinets. “We need food.” 

“I thought your flight couldn’t come in?”

“Quinn here drove us.”

“From Vancouver?”

Quinn shrugs, the normal sullen look on his face made even worse from the exhaustion of the long drive. “Celeste had to get here.”

“Yeah,” she says, taking Mimi’s hand and leading her to the kitchen table. “How are you?” She had called her sister almost immediately after it happened to tell her. 

“Good.” Celeste gives her that look that tells her she knows it’s a lie. “Fine.” Another look. Mimi sighs, letting out the words she hadn’t said out loud to anyone. “I miss him.” 

________________________

Her family loved Nico. 

Her little cousins flocked to him, her aunts and uncles raved about how easy he was to talk to. Celeste nearly drooled over him despite Quinn standing right next to him and her having seen him plenty of times on TV. Her parents, Mimi was sure, wished he was their actually child. They would trade Mimi for three mini cans of soda and a bag of corn chips if it meant Nico was their son. 

Mimi was watching Nico play with her youngest cousin, Vivianna, as she showed Nico all the dolls she brought with her and told him about all of them in that high-pitched toddler babble she was probably going to have grown out of by Christmas. Her chest ached at the sight of his smile at Vivianna, finding herself daydreaming about him with their own kid one day. 

“Hey,” her mom pulls her out of her trance. “Can you go grab my phone on my nightstand? It has the recipe for the mac and cheese and I need to take out the turkey in a second.”

“Got it.” 

She heads upstairs to her parents room, finding the phone, an unread message notification from Nico from a couple of hours ago on the screen. She was looking for the recipe, not the messages. It was saved in her mother’s notes app, and that was all she needed to look for. 

But her mom told her to get her phone. She could see the messages and then just ‘unread’ the one Nico had sent her. 

No. That was crazy. What was she even worried about? Her mom and Nico haven’t some sort of illicit affair? That would never happen. 

She shakes her head of the thought. She was going crazy over nothing. Mimi unlocks her mothers phone, expecting to find her home screen with all her apps, her notes app in the bottom left hand corner of the main dock. 

Instead it opened right to Nico’s messages. 

Mimi couldn’t help herself. She scrolls up to the last few messages, her mom for some reason either not replying to him or deleting all of her messages to him, leaving only what Nico sent. 

It was links upon links of engagement rings. 

And she hated every single one of them.

“Mimi,” her mother yells up the stairs. “Did you find my phone?”

Shit. “Yeah,” she sets the message back to being unread and pulls up the notes app just as her mom appears in the doorway. “Here, sorry. I grabbed Dad’s phone instead.”

Her mother eyes her suspiciously, looking at the other nightstand where the other phone sat. “No problem, let’s head back down stairs. Nico was looking for you.”

Nico. 

________________________

“I think you should call him,” Celeste says, ignoring the fact that Quinn was falling asleep in the chair next to her. Actually, Mimi was sure that he was already asleep.

Mimi shakes her head. “He wanted to propose, to get married, to spend our lives together and he didn’t even know what kind of ring I liked? He doesn’t know me.”

“You’re an idiot,” Celeste sighs.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“No, I’m supposed to call you out when you’re being a fucking dumbass.” 

“What did I do wrong here?”

“Mimi, the ring is not important.” Celeste reaches across the table and takes her sister's hands. “You love Nico and he loves you. You guys talked about getting married, didn’t you? The ring can be changed, but if you wait too long, it might not be Nico who gives it to you.”

Before Mimi can respond, Quinn stirs and startles the sisters, shifting on the table. He sits up, his forehead bright red from where he was resting. “Can we go to bed?” he mumbles, his eyes still closed.

Celeste helps get him out of the chair. “Yeah, babe.” She leads him out of the kitchen, leaving Mimi sitting there by herself. “Maybe think about calling him tomorrow? Tell him what you saw on our mother’s phone and tell him you’re an idiot?”

Mimi laughed at her sister’s bluntness. She had been wanting to call Nico for the last few weeks since she broke up with him. Worst of all, she did it while he was on a road trip and took a bag of things out and back to Stella’s place. She never went and got all her things, all her books. 

She heads up to her room, her phone flashing 4:00 am. She had to get to sleep if she wanted to be ready for whatever chaos her family brought with them when they got to their house the next afternoon. 

________________________

Mimi was shaking, walking down the street with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder, heading to Stella’s.

Nico was away on a west coast road trip for over a week already, scheduled to come back the next day. She had been keeping him at arm's length since Thanksgiving, since the text messages to her mother. Everything felt weird, between them and Nico had no idea why. Mimi couldn’t talk to him.

Her phone was in her hand, Nico’s number typed from memory ready to call, all she had to do was press the green button. They had talked earlier that morning, when he woke up, but she couldn’t say anything to him. 

She goes for it, knowing that she had to say something to him as to why she wasn’t at their apartment when he got home. 

“Hey, babe,” he answers groggily after a couple of rings. Mimi takes the phone away from her ear, trying to figure out the time difference. He was at the end of his pre-game nap, just waking up. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to Stella’s.”

“Oh, ok,” she hears him say, the ruffling of sheets as he sits up. He yawns, Mimi able to picture him stretching as he does so. “Are you guys doing a girl’s night?”

“No, um, I’m going to move back in with her.” Nico doesn’t say anything, Mimi standing outside her old building, checking to see if the call dropped.

Nico finally clears his throat. “You’re what?”

Mimi could feel the tears coming, trying to hold them back. As soon as she started to cry, she knew he would hear it in her voice. “I can’t do this anymore, Nico.” 

“What are you saying?” She hears him getting out of bed, shuffling around the hotel room. He was frantic, things falling over, Nico bumping into things, probably in a panic. 

Mimi hesitates. “That I’m done.”

He stops. “That we’re done,” he clarifies for her.

She can feel her chest start to tighten, a lump forming in her throat. “Yeah.” 

Mimi hangs up without letting him get in another word, telling herself that she didn’t want to let him listen to the first sob that came out of her. She couldn’t read the text that he had sent trying to make sense of what just happened, telling her that he loved her and knew she loved him, that he wanted to figure this out and get through whatever was going on.

Stella appears outside, holding the door open for her just as Mimi bursts into tears, bringing her friend in for a hug. 

“What happened?” 

Mimi can’t get a word out between her crying, feeling ridiculous for doing this on the street. Stella tries to console her, dragging her in the building. “You’re gonna be ok. Stay as long as you need. You’re heading to your parents in a few days, anyway.” 

________________________

Mimi woke up to her mother standing over her like she was back in high school and had snoozed her alarm one too many times. “It’s almost noon, are you going to get up?”

“Ugh,” Mimi lets out, swearing in her mind. She jolts out of bed, trying to find all the clothes she had planned to wear that never managed to get unpacked from her bag. 

“Everyone gets here in an hour.”

“I know, Mom.” Mimi nearly falls over trying to get her pants on, her mother just standing there watching.

“Anything from Nico?”

Mimi stops, her pajama top in one hand, the sweater she was planning on wearing in the other as she looks at the smirk her mom had on her face. “I just woke up and haven’t looked at my phone yet, I’m not sure.”

Her mother nods. “Just let us know if someone needs to go pick him up at the airport.” She leaves without another word. 

Mimi shakes it off, whatever weirdness her mother gave off probably just from the normal anxiety that came with hosting their family for Christmas Eve. Both sides of the family showed up, which meant the most chaos possible for their family. She heads downstairs, going through the motions of helping her father get the food ready, setting the tables, trying to find the bag of toys that had somehow completely disappeared since Thanksgiving that they kept for the little ones.

The doorbell rings, Mimi hearing one of her aunts call that she was letting herself in as she always did, a container of gingerbread cookies with her to hand off to Mimi. The rest of the family starts to filter in, the entire house filled with talking, laughing, screaming, and everyone in a good mood.

Except for Mimi. 

“You didn’t call him, did you?” Celeste pulls her aside. 

Mimi shakes her head, taking out her phone since she knew Celeste would make her call him now anyway. She types in his number, pressing the call button without hesitating.

“It went right to voicemail.” Mimi knew the color drained from her face, her heart dropping to her stomach. Did he block her? 

She tries to pull up his location, the last time his phone registering one being at Newark Airport around the same time Celeste got home. He couldn’t be travelling for hockey.

Celeste bites her lip, a concerned look on her face. “He’s probably just busy. His phone is off.”

“What if I can’t get him back?” Mimi felt like crying, again. She really fucked this up.

Celeste pulls her in for a hug. “Then we figure it out.” 

The sisters are interrupted by one of their father’s brothers, yelling something about Quinn being too quiet for the family and how he was sure they would break him out of his shell. Celeste immediately leaves to try to save her boyfriend, Mimi laughing at the image of the poor boy panicking over the anxiety that their family could cause. 

The doorbell rings, the rest of the family too loud for anyone but Mimi, who had happened to wander by the door on her way to the kitchen, to hear. She was sure everyone was already there, her mother not mentioning that anyone was going to be late.

She checks through the small window at the top, the angle of the glass distorting any good view of the person she could have. All Mimi could see was brown hair pacing back and forth on the front porch. 

Mimi opens the door. “Nico?” Her heart swells as he stops pacing, pulling her in for a hug as she shuts the door, not wanting her family to hear any of their conversation. “What are you doing here?”

He pulls away from her slightly to look at her, his one hand still on her waist and he brushes her hair off her face with the other, tucking it behind her cheek. “You’ve been avoiding my calls, and my texts. Stella, Celeste, and Quinn have all called me or Jack or Luke trying to figure out what happened.”

She sighs, wanting to bury herself in his chest and forget everything ever happened. “I saw the rings you sent my mom.”

“And?”

“I hated them.”

“I knew you would.” 

“What?”

Nico laughs, pulling her back into his chest. “I sent those to your mom because I knew at some point, your mom would ask you to pull up something on her phone for her, and I don’t want you knowing what you’re going to get when I do ask you.”

“When you do?”

“When I do ask you, it’ll be perfect for you.” 

Mimi doesn’t say anything, pulling him in for a kiss instead. She could feel him smile against her lips, his hands tightening around her waist. 

“I do have this for you, though,” Nico pulls away, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small ring box. “It’s what I’m going to put your ring in.”

Mimi raises her eyebrow at him as he encourages her to open it. “What’s on the lining?” Nico smiles, Mimi staring at the lines and marks. “Holy shit.” Her eyes grow wide when the realization hits her.

“It’s our tic-tac-toe game from the night we met.”

Mimi hugs him, nuzzling his face against his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat as he holds her tight. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Blake playfully smacks Nico on the chest, pulling a laugh from him. They rub their face, letting out a groan that matched the pitch of Nico’s alarm that had woken them both up from the sleep they finally got. It felt way too early to be waking up, but that was more due to the fact that they and Nico had been awake until at least three am the night before. “Thank god it’s a dress down day.”

Nico rolls out of bed, Blake following suit. Fridays had so much potential to be a teacher's favorite and least favorite days of the week; it was almost the weekend, but the students were more insane than other days, they could dress down thanks to enough teachers annoying admin about it, but it made dressing back up for the next Monday even worse.

“What are you wearing today?” Nico asks, wrapping his arms around Blake’s waist. 

“One of the school sweatshirts, probably,” they say, trying to break free to get ready despite Nico’s kisses trailing down their neck. “We have to get ready if I want to head back to my place and grab my stuff before school.”

Nico pouts, stepping back from them. “We could just drive in together.” 

“We both know that the students will never shut up if they find out we’re dating.”

“Mmmm,” he hums, his arms back around them like they never left. “The math teacher and the English teacher dating, how scandalous.” 

“Stop it,” they tease, grabbing the sweatshirt with their school logo on it and throwing it over their head. “I’ll see you at school.”

Nico pulls them in for a kiss, whining when they pull away and practically run out the door with their bag. 

Getting to school was a fight, trying to get through traffic of multiple other campuses before reaching the one they taught at. It was Friday, they just had to get through Friday. 

First period went by without issue. The students were being a little weird while Blake was texting, but that was nothing unusual for a Friday. It was the pre-weekend anticipation that they were feeling. 

The students acted weird all day, Blake sending a text to Nico only to have him confirm it was more than just the Weekend Weirdness. Last period finally came, the longest day seeming even longer because of the students.

“Teacher Garner?” one of their students pipes up right before the last bell was supposed to ring. 

Blake looks up from their computer, Piper, one of the quieter students in the class standing in front of their desk, the rest of the class silent behind her. “What’s up?”

“Are you and Mr. H dating?” 

Blake could feel the color draining from their face. They had discussed at length together that they were not going to tell anyone at work that they were together, that they had been together, for nearly a year and a half now. Part of it was because they didn’t want the students to pry in their personal lives, the other part because they simply didn’t think it was anyone’s business. They weren’t breaking any rules, they just didn’t want people prying. “Why would you ask that?”

“You’re wearing his sweatshirt,” Piper says, pointing to Blake’s arm, where Nico’s last name was stitched into the bicep.

“Oh, we must have switched ours when we took them off at the faculty meeting the other day. You know how hot the library can get,” they try to pass it off, the bell ringing before Piper can say anything else. The students behind her were quietly laughing, filing out of the room as Blake told them to have a good weekend. 

They hid out in their room, hoping they could leave as soon as the pick up lines were out. 

“Hey,” Blake hears their classroom door open, Nico poking his head in. “Are you ok?”

Blake makes a face, trying to figure out what they were feeling. “You heard?”

“As soon as first period ended, I had students in my room asking me about you.” 

Blake felt their heart race, thinking back to them texting Nico earlier in the day and him not mentioning that. “And what did you say?”

“We must have switched sweatshirts at the faculty meeting.”

Blake let out a sigh of relief, both of them unknowing saying the same thing to their students. “We spend too much time together.”

Nico smiles, looking behind his shoulder to make sure the door was closed before reaching for Blake’s hand. “I don’t think we spend enough time together.”

“And how do you propose we fix that problem?” 

“I think we should finally move in together.” 

“Imagine what the students will say when they see us driving in together.”

“What about him?” Viv repeats, a little more snark in her tone than her friend had initially given her. 

Heather sighs, taking Viv’s wrist and dragging her toward the mystery man. “He’s cute, he’s not talking to anyone, and you need to get laid.”

Viv scoffs, trying to break free from her friend only to fail. “I do not.”

“You haven’t done more than text a boy since Justin,” Heather points out, the mention of Viv’s ex causing her to visibly flinch. “I’m sorry, but you always use the excuse that your school year stops you from doing anything with anyone, and you haven’t started the year yet.”

“I start on Monday.” 

“You start your in-service on Monday,” Heather corrects, “Which, yes, I understand, means you have a lot of work to do because you’re only let into your classroom a week before the school year starts, but, I can in theory come help you set up if you need me.” Viv stares at her a little longer, trying to telepathically tell her friend that she wanted to go home, not talk to some guy who also clearly didn’t want to be in the bar. 

Her attempt at mind control fails as Heather continues to bring her through the bar. “My friend thinks you’re cute,” she tells the mystery man, shoving Heather towards him and spilling her drink down her hand before disappearing back into the crowd. 

“I’m so sorry,” Viv spits out, a mortified look on both their faces. 

“You don’t actually think I’m cute?” he asks, a smile on his face.

Viv lets out a laugh that matches his. “I do, I’m just sorry about my friend being so blunt.” The guy nods, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “I’m Viv, by the way.”

“Jack.” 

They start talking to each other, slowly getting closer to each other as the night goes on.

“What do you do?” he eventually asks, Viv explaining that she’s been a teacher for a couple of years now, starting the new year on Monday. “Me, too.”

“You’re a teacher?”

“I will be.”

Viv laughs, noticing the stress on his face. “You’re scared.”

Jack lets out a long breath. “Yeah. I’m going to be horrible at it.” 

Viv shrugs. “No teacher is great their first year.” 

The night goes on, Viv wanting to keep talking to him, hopefully do something more despite the fact that it would give Heather the satisfaction of knowing that Viv listened to her for once. 

“Hey, are you heading out?” Heather comes up behind her, scaring both her and Jack.

“I think we’re going to,” Viv tells her friend, both of them trying to hide the squeals they wanted to let out as Jack’s hands found their way around Viv’s waist. 

Viv tried not to think too much about her night with Jack, especially because she never got his number and didn’t know his last name to try to find him on social media. Not that she had it, so her students wouldn’t be able to find her, but in cases like this, she wishes she did. She could ask Heather, but that would lead to some very detailed conversations about her night that she didn’t want to share with anyone but him. 

Viv walked into her classroom, the fresh wax on her floors, the whiteboard actually clean for once, the pencil marks from the notes she wrote directly on her desk gone. The tables were clean, even if they were out of place and needed to be moved around, her counters were clean, and her walls ready to be decorated with everything she had to take back down at the end of the year. 

She gets to work, knowing she had about an hour before her meetings were going to start, connecting her phone to her speakers and playing her playlist while she climbed up on the counters to start hanging things up. She loved her classroom, but only once it felt like her classroom, with everything back in its place for her students to see when they came in next week.

“Hey, sorry,” she gets interrupted, the voice she hears nearly knocking her off the counter. “I’m the new history teacher in the next room-”

“Jack?” she asks, the color draining from her face to see her hook up that she didn’t want to admit to herself that she still wanted to see, standing there in her doorway looking just as good to her while she was sober compared to when she was drunk like the other night. 

“You teach here?”

“Yeah.”

“In this classroom?”

“Yes.”