#ws02

NHL Follow Tracker

@/_willsmith2 followed @/randomgirl at 2:14pm 👀👀

Under it, a thread is growing. Speculation, zoomed in profile pics, comparisons, nasty comments.

Is she his type?

They liked each others pics in 2021

Y/n deserves better

You swallow thickly. It’s so stupid, it’s literally nothing. He follows people all the time. He’s in the NHL, he’s allowed to publicly exist. Then there’s another notification.

NHL Follow Tracker

@/_willsmith2 unfollowed @/randomgirl at 2:16pm

You actually laugh, but it’s strained. This is insane, they track everything, every follow, every like, every time he breathes near a woman.

And usually you’d roll your eyes, maybe send him a screenshot with a “babe you’re trending again for existing”

But right now? You feel something awful and tight climbing into your chest.

You click Will’s profile. You hate doing it, but you do. You scroll through his following, you notice names you don’t recognize. You click on one girl and she’s pretty, of course she is.

You close the app so fast it’s embarrassing. And then you just sit there staring at your reflection in the black screen.

You’re not jealous. You don’t get jealous. You’re being irrational, you–

Your phone cuts off your spiral with a buzzing.

Incoming FaceTime: Will🦈

You consider ignoring it, but you can’t do that. You answer.

His face fills the screen immediately, messy hair and handsome smile, like the universe created him by hand to ruin your emotional stability.

“There she is!” He grins. “My favorite girl.”

You force a smile. “Hi.”

He narrows his eyes, reading you instantly. Fuck.

“Why do you look like you just hit a puppy with your car?”

You let a little laugh slip despite yourself.

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” He insists. “That’s your ‘I’m fine but actually I’m spiraling in a very contained way’ voice.”

You stare at him. “How the fuck do you do that?”

He softens instantly. “What happened?”

You don’t want to tell him because this is dumb. It’s embarrassing for Christ’s sake, jealousy is beneath you. But your chest feels so tight.

“You follow so many girls.” You blurt out.

Silence, he blinks a few times.

“Is that… that’s a crime?”

“You know what I mean.” You say quickly. “There are whole accounts that are dedicated to tracking it. They post everything. They–” your voice cracks and you hate it. “It just makes me feel so stupid sometimes.”

He doesn’t make a joke or try to brush it off. He just listens as you continue.

“Like I’m sitting here, trying to be chill about it.” You say, words spilling out now. “And everyone’s just dissecting your every move. And they’re putting me into some competition that I did not sign up for.”

He leans forward towards the camera. “Hey.”

You look up.

“I need you to hear me very clearly.” He says, suddenly serious. “You are not in competition with anyone.”

You swallow, looking back down at your hands, picking at the skin by your nails.

“People online are bored. They have no life.” He continues. “We are their hobby. They need storylines and drama and plot twists, like it’s some little reality show they’re making up.”

You take a shaky breath, looking back at him.

“But this is real life, and in my real life I am obsessed with you. And only you.” He says softly.

You smile small. “You’re so dramatic.”

He nods. “But I’m also correct.”

He reaches off screen and grabs his iPad, opening instagram to his following. He shows you the screen and scrolls.

“See this? Teammates, teammates, more teammates, old teammates. Meme account. My mom, Grace. You.” He taps your name. “This is the only person I care about impressing.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious.” He says. “Half the time I don’t even realize I followed someone. Sometimes I click on accident. There are a few teammate’s sisters, our media admin, a few dog accounts.”

You raise an eyebrow and he grins.

“Okay, you got me. The dog ones are intentional.”

You laugh again and the tightness in your chest disappears a little. Will goes quiet.

“Did I do something to make you feel insecure?”

“No.” You say quickly. “You didn’t. It’s just… constant eyes on our every move. Like there’s no off switch. And I’m trying to act like I don’t care, but sometimes I do.”

His expression transforms to something that makes your heart ache.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because I don’t want you to think I’m jealous or controlling. I’m trying to be unbothered.”

He scoffs. “I don’t think you’re controlling. I don’t want unbothered. I want you to be honest. If something upsets you, you tell me. You don’t have to compete with armchair detectives.”

You look at your lap again.

“You know what I see when I look at you?” He asks.

You shake your head.

“The girl who watches my 9pm games even though she has class at 7am the next day. The girl who texts me reminders to drink water like I’m a little kid. The girl who fell asleep on FaceTime last week and drooled a little.”

Your jaw drops. “Delete that one from your memory now.”

“Never.” He says, smiling softly. “I don’t care about random follows or theories. I just care about you.”

There’s a moment of silence, then because he can’t help himself,

“And if it makes you feel better, I can just unfollow everyone and live off-grid like a mysterious forest hermit.”

You laugh. “You would last two days.”

“Rude.” He gasps. “I’m very outdoorsy.”

“You got lost trying to find my house the first five times you came over.”

“That was Google Maps fault, not mine.”

You shake your head, smiling now. He leans towards the camera again.

“Hey, you’re allowed to have feelings. It doesn’t make you insecure, it makes you human.” He says gently.

“Okay.” You whisper.

“And for the record,” he adds with a smirk. “If anyone should be jealous, it’s the rest of the world. Because I already won.”

You roll your eyes. “Won what?”

“You.”

Your face heats up instantly. “You’re so cheesy, Will.” You groan.

“Yeah, but you love it.” He says grinning.

And you do. You’re laughing again, and he's smiling at you like an idiot with that perfectly messy hair.

“Next time something happens, just call me. We’ll figure it out together.” He tells you.

“Deal.”

“And if you want,” he adds, lowering his voice mischievously. “I can get Mack to start a rumor that I’m secretly married to you.”

“Please don’t.” You laugh.

- Will loves how to pin you against the wall and take you like that

- He's obsessed with your boobs, when you ride his thighs, he'll pinch your nipples to draw as many sounds out of you as possible.

- Will loves hearing you moan his name

- Will has a thing for hitting it from the back, especially if you in his jersey he will go feral like immediately your going to need new panties because he will rip them

- Will who secretly wants to ask Macklin to join you two because he wants to see you pinned between two gigantic hockey players instead of just himself

- Will loves it when you ride him, big tits guy so your boobs bouncing his face has him cuming way quicker than he wants to admit

- Will who loves cuming all over your tits, if you giving him head he will pull out of your mouth and cum all over your tits just because he thinks its hot as fuck

- Will who spelled his name in cum on your ass one time because he's a possessive shit, he also took a picture of it

- Will has to see you to jerk off on the road, has to be either via FaceTime or on the phone of he just can't cum

- Will convinced you to film a sex tape one time, he watches it one the road sometimes to get off mostly you to watch it together and touch yourselves

「 SJS 」 ⋯ MACKLIN CELEBRINI ⌣ ⚜️

The atmosphere at the Boston University rink was incredible. The Terriers had just won a very important game for the season and everyone was celebrating euphorically. Your hands were numb from clapping so much and your voice was almost hoarse from cheering, especially after your boyfriend, Macklin, had scored one goal and assisted in two others. All that excitement had moved to some nearby bars, and later to a fraternity house, but at some point in all that commotion, Mack and you had decided to return to your residence to end the night together and relax. “You were amazing tonight,” you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. He glanced down at you, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah? You think so?” “I know so. That last goal?” you shook your head. “I swear my heart stopped.” Macklin could only think about how adorable you were, and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you close to give you a kiss on the head. Once you arrived at the building, you calmly entered, immediately noticing how the temperature changed as it was no longer so cold. In the elevator, right after entering, you both looked at each other confidently, and then a long, intense kiss began between you. Your mouths moved in sync, and your hands quickly explored each other's bodies. Then Macklin bent down slightly and lifted you up by your thighs, making you wrap your legs around his waist. When the elevator doors opened, he began to walk, still carrying you in his arms, toward your bedroom door. Once there, with difficulty as the kiss continued to intensify, you managed to open the door with the key so you could be in the privacy of your room. Macklin laid you down on the bed and your hand began to move down toward his crotch, causing him to let out a groan. Soon you began to struggle with the button and zipper, trying to undo them to take the activity you were engaged in one step further. Breathing heavily and letting out an inaudible sigh, he slowly pulled away from you. "Wait, wait... are you sure? We've never... we've never done it," he said, his cheeks flushed. "Please, Mack, I'm ready," you replied. "Are you really sure, Y/n? It doesn't have to be now. I don't want you to think you owe me for winning the game or as a reward or anything," he said again, cupping your face in his hands and caressing your cheek with his thumb. "I swear, it's not because of the game. I've been thinking about it for several days and I really want to," you said. With a simple nod, Macklin kissed you again and began to undress you. His caresses were gentle, and he took his time and was careful to make you as comfortable as possible. The moment when, after what seemed like an eternity of preparation, he entered you, a million sensations came over you without warning, and Macklin, doing everything possible to make your first time together perfect, took you with him to the greatest pleasure you had ever known.

「 SJS 」 ⋯ WILL SMITH ⌣ ⚜️

The first night in Will’s hometown felt different in the best way. When he’d asked you to spend a couple of weeks with him in Lexington over break, you'd been nervous. Meeting his family. Sleeping in the same house as his childhood memories... But from the moment they pulled into the driveway, everything felt warm. His mom hugged you like she’d known you for years. His dad insisted on showing you old photo albums. And his sister was nothing but excitement toward getting to know you. By the third day, you felt less like a guest and more like you belonged there being one more of the family. One evening, after dinner and board games with his family, you slipped away to his room. It was cozy, unchanged in small ways—posters still on the walls, shelves lined with trophies and school books still on the shelf. Will sat beside you on the bed, your shoulders touching. “You doing okay?” he asked softly. He’d been checking in with you all week, always careful, always thoughtful. You smiled. “More than okay. Your family is amazing.” “They really like you,” he said, nudging you gently. “My mom told me I’d be an idiot to mess this up.” You laughed, but your heart was pounding so hard, being here, seeing how he was with his parents, how gentle he was with his sister, made something settle in your chest. It made you certain. “Will?” Her voice came out quieter than you intended. He turned immediately, reading her tone. “Hey. What’s going on?” You took a steadying breath. “Being here with you… it just feels right.” His expression softened and your heart melted. “And I’ve been thinking,” you continued, fingers twisting together in your lap. “I don’t want my first time to be random. Or rushed. I want it to be with someone I trust.” He went very still. Your heart raced. “I want it to be with you.” For a second, he just stared at her, clearly not expecting that. “Y/n…” His voice was careful, almost stunned. “Are you sure?” You nodded, even though her cheeks burned. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly—not frustrated, just processing. “I don’t want you to feel pressured because we’re here. Or because everything’s been… perfect this week.” “I don’t,” you said quickly. “This isn’t about the trip. It’s about you.” He studied your face the way he always did when something mattered—like he was making sure there wasn’t a single thread of doubt. When he didn’t find any, his shoulders relaxed. “If we do this,” he said gently, “it’s going to be because you want it. And we go at your pace. The second you’re uncomfortable, we stop. No questions.” Tears pricked unexpectedly at your eyes, not from fear but from how much he cared. “I know,” she whispered. And at that Will started a slow and loving kiss as he laid you down on the bed and his hands began to touch your body, slowly starting what would be a special and very long night for both of you.

「 CHI 」 ⋯ CONNOR BEDARD⌣ ⚜️

The restaurant was still buzzing when Frank and his girlfriend waved goodbye, promising to going in a double date again soon, and you leaned into Connor’s side as you stepped out into the cool night air. Dating an NHL player still felt surreal sometimes, watching Connor on the ice was one thing, fast, confident, focused. Seeing him laugh across a dinner table with his teammate, reaching for her hand under the table like it was second nature, was something else entirely. He squeezed your fingers now. “You had fun?” he asked, searching your face. “Yeah,” you said, smiling up at him. “I really liked them. She’s so sweet.” He chuckled. “Yeah, she keeps him in line.” You walked slowly toward his apartment, your shoulders brushing. You felt warm—not just from the wine you'd had, but from something deeper. From the way he’d introduced you proudly. From the way he’d said, “This is my girlfriend,” like it meant everything. Inside his apartment, the lights were low and soft. Connor shrugged off his jacket and turned to you, his expression gentle. “You’re a little tipsy,” he observed, amused. You scrunched her nose. “So are you.” He stepped closer anyway, hands resting on your waist. “I am, yes" he said with a gentle voice. You heart fluttered. The room felt smaller, quieter. “Connor?” you said, her voice softer than usual. “Yeah?” “I love you.” He stilled. For a split second, nerves flickered in your chest—but then his expression changed. Not shocked. Not scared. Just overwhelmed in the best way. “You do?” he teased gently, brushing his thumb along your hip. “I do,” you confirmed, breathless. “Tonight just… seeing you with Frank, the way you talk about your career, The way you talked about me. Us. I just know, I love you.” His hands tightened slightly at your waist. “I love you too.” Instantly you engaged yourselves in an electric kiss Instantly, you gave yourselves over to a passionate kiss. Your hands quickly found each other's bodies, and as things intensified, Connor reluctantly pulled away. "We're not completely sober, Y/n." "I don't care, I want this," you said. "I know, and believe me, I don't doubt it, but I want it to be special. I don't want it to be because of the intensity of the moment, and certainly not if we're not in our right minds." Even so, his kisses continued to appear on your mouth, between breaths as he spoke to you. "Think about it carefully, sweetheart. When we wake up tomorrow, you'll tell me I'm right, and since I'm sure you want it as much as I do, it will happen, but without being drunk." Little by little, you got over him, while you agreed more and more. He was right, Connor was right. You really wanted to have sex with him, but that wasn't the way to do it. That's not how your first time should be. "Yes, yes, you're right," you replied. "Hey, look at me," he said, grabbing your face so you would look him in the eyes. "I love you, okay? And I want to make love to you until we can't take it anymore. But not now, not like this." You simply nodded, held his face as he continued to do, and kissed him again, showing him that you weren't angry or anything like that, that you understood and shared his view of your first time together. "Let's go to bed. I want to sleep all night in your arms. I love you, Connor." "I love you too, Y/n"

「 NYR 」 ⋯ MATT REMPE⌣ ⚜️

You still remembered the first time you caught Matt’s attention. She’d been a regular at the Rangers games since forever, always going with your dad as a kid and later as you grow up enjoying it alone or with your friends. One day sitting a few rows behind the glass, cheering louder as you always do. After one particular win, your eyes had met with Matt's as he skated toward the bench. He’d smiled, quick, curious, and somehow that moment had turned into a conversation outside the arena. A few weeks later, you were inseparable. And after a few months of being friends he has asked you to be his girlfriend. Tonight, after another game, Matt drove you back to his house. His hair was still damp from the shower at the arena, and he looked relaxed in a way you loved, no helmet, no pressure, just him. You curled up on his couch, the city lights spilling faintly through the windows. The TV hummed quietly in the background, but neither of you were really watching. “You know,” he murmured, tracing slow circles on you hand, “I’m really glad you kept coming to those games.” You smiled softly. “I’m glad you noticed.” Silence settled between you, comfortable and warm. Being with him never felt rushed. He always made space for you although his rushed life. Your heart started beating faster, but this time it wasn’t nerves from a crowd. It was something steadier. Certain. “Matt?” you said quietly. He turned immediately, reading your tone. “Yeah?” You shifted so you were facing him fully. “I’ve been thinking about something.” He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Okay.” “I’m want us to have sex, I'm ready” you said, your voice soft but clear. For a split second, he just blinked at you. Then his expression changed, not into surprise, but into something brighter. Almost awed. “Y/n,” he breathed. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t sure,” you added quickly. “I’m prepared. I just… I want you.” The smile that spread across his face wasn’t cocky or smug. It was warm. Grateful. “You have no idea how much that means to me,” he said honestly. His hands slid gently to your waist. “Not because it’s our first time. But because you feel that safe with me.” You felt your nerves ease at the way he said it, like it was about trust, not conquest. He leaned forward and kissed you softly, lingering just long enough to make your breath catch. Softly Matt started to kiss you and in no time you were right under him, his hands were all over your body and you couldn't stop to feel and look at him. Then, without making things feel rushed, he led you both to the purest and highest ecstasy you had ever felt.

「 COL 」 ⋯ NATHAN MACKINNON⌣ ⚜️

For the few months you and Nate have been dating, everything was quite and simple, you were not a secret but really private towards your relationship. Late night dinners in calm restaurants, hoodies and baseball caps on grocery runs, private jokes in the corner of team events. The age gap between you had never felt strange in private, it had just meant anything different for you. But not for the people out there. The night a photographer caught you leaving his apartment, everything changed. Headlines popped up within hours. Comment sections filled with opinions from strangers who didn’t know you. Words like “inappropriate” and “too young” floated around like they meant something personal. You tried not to look at it, but it was impossible not to feel it. One evening, you found Nate sitting at his kitchen island, phone face down in front of him. He looked tired, not physically, but emotionally. “Hey,” you said softly. He looked up immediately, his expression softening when he saw you. “Hey.” You slid onto the stool beside him. “You’ve been... quiet.” He hesitated. “I just hate that this is landing on you. People saying things… judging you.” “I don’t care what they say,” you replied instantly. He gave you a look. “Y/n.” “I mean it.” you reached for his hand. “They don’t know us. They don’t know anything about our relationship” His jaw tightened slightly. “It’s still a lot of pressure.” You turned fully toward him, making sure he saw how serious you were. “I’m not with you because of your career. Or your age. I’m with you because I love you.” The words settled between you. His eyes softened immediately. “You love me?” You nodded. “I do.” He exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding that in for a while. His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “I love you too,” he admitted quietly. Silence followed, not heavy, but intimate. “I don’t care about the age gap,” you continued gently. “It doesn’t change how I feel. It doesn’t change how safe I feel with you.” He searched her face, protective instinct flickering behind his eyes. “You are safe with me.” “I know.” You swallowed, heart racing for a different reason now. “Nate,” you said softly, while he looked at you encouraging you to keep talking. “I want you to make love to me. I'm ready” He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached up and cupped your face, his expression serious but tender. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “Not because of the headlines. Not because you feel like you have to prove something.” You shook your head. “This has nothing to do with them. It’s about us.”He studied you carefully, making sure there wasn’t even a flicker of doubt. “You know,” he added gently, “we don’t have to rush this. Ever.” “I know,” you whispered. “I’m choosing you right now. I'm choosing you always” That seemed to settle something in him. He leaned forward, pressing a slow kiss to your lips, unhurried, full of intention. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. And then, Nate carefully carried you to bed where a night filled with hundreds of sensations unfolded on its own.

Elizabeth Brooke loved her job.

Even on the days when the locker room smelled like sweat and sports drink, and she had to politely dodge flying tape balls and chirps from players who still hadn't fully grasped what "I'm working" meant.

Still, working as an athletic therapy intern with the San Jose Sharks for the second season in a row was a dream. She was gaining hands-on experience, earning school credit, and learning from some of the best in the league.

And most of the guys were great—loud, chaotic, but respectful. She was "Ellie" to everyone, or sometimes "Brooke," and every now and then "kiddo" when they felt particularly big-brotherly.

She mostly kept her head down, made her friends at the university nearby, and avoided any unnecessary attention at work.

Which is why she completely missed that she'd been fake-dating Will Smith without knowing it.

—

"Bro, just admit you're lonely," Macklin teased from across the locker room, taping his stick lazily. "You've been here three months and haven't gone on a single date."

Will rolled his eyes, lacing up his skates. "I'm not lonely."

"Then who's the mystery girl you're always texting?" someone else chimed in. "Or are you just playing Candy Crush?"

Will, flustered and unbothered at the same time, shrugged. "I'm uh- dating someone."

That shut them up for half a second.

Mack squinted. "You're what now?"

"Dating someone," Will repeated casually, hoping it would blow over.

It didn't.

"No way," Mack said, grinning like a shark (the metaphorical kind). "Who?"

Will panicked.

"She, uh... " he said, thinking fast. "Dark hair, brown eyes, quiet. Like—super sweet. You probably don't know her."

He thought that would be vague enough.

Unfortunately, it wasn't.

Mack's eyes lit up. "Noooo. You're dating Ellie?"

Will froze. "...What?"

"You literally just described her. Brown eyes? Quiet? You mean Elizabeth Brooke?"

"I—" Will started, but Mack cut him off.

"No way. She's way too nice to date you. That's, like, morally illegal."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Will asked, offended on behalf of himself and his imaginary girlfriend.

Right on cue, Ellie walked past the locker room, clipboard in hand, her soft smile aimed at the group like it always was—polite, sweet, almost shy. She gave a small wave.

The guys waved back.

"Dude, she's, like, adorable," one of them said. "You are not dating her."

Will, now far too committed to back out, stood up with unnecessary confidence. "Bet?"

Before anyone could respond, he jogged after her.

Ellie didn't flinch when he matched her pace down the hallway. She glanced up and smiled, recognizing him instantly.

"Hey," she said. "Need something?"

Will casually slung an arm over her shoulder. "Just walking my favourite AT to work."

She laughed, confused but not uncomfortable. "That right?"

It wasn't totally weird. The guys teased her like this all the time. She was the "little sister" of the staff, the one they all claimed to protect while also making fun of her coffee order and stealing her snacks.

So she didn't think much of it when Will walked her all the way to the recovery room, arm still resting lazily around her shoulder, chatting like they did this every day.

When they reached the door, he dropped his arm and flashed her a grin. "Catch you later, Brookie."

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked straight back toward the locker room.

Back at her station, Allan, one of the athletic therapists, raised a brow as she passed.

"What was that about?"

Ellie blinked. "What?"

"With Will."

"Oh. I dunno. He's just being nice?"

Allan gave her a look but didn't press it.

Ellie shrugged it off and returned to the charts, not knowing that Will had just created a very real problem for himself.

Because now, officially, everyone on the team thought Elizabeth Brooke was his girl.

And she had no clue about it.

⸻

Will should've let it die.

He should've said he was kidding, or made up a name, or pulled a full "you wouldn't know her, she goes to another team."

Instead, he watched Ellie from far away, calm and clueless, and turned back to the guys like he hadn't just made the worst spontaneous decision of his rookie season.

Mack raised an eyebrow. "So, she's your girlfriend."

Will crossed his arms. "Yep."

"She doesn't act like your girlfriend."

"She's private."

"She didn't even blink when you walked up to her outta nowhere and slung your arm around her like you were in a movie."

Will shrugged. "That's just how we are."

The guys all gave him the same look: We do not believe you, rookie.

"Alright," Mack said, grinning like this was the best entertainment he'd had all month. "Guess we'll keep an eye out. See how you two lovebirds act around each other."

Will blinked. "Why?"

"Just curious," Mack said. "Always fun to watch young love bloom."

Will gritted his teeth. He was so screwed.

Over the next week, things got... complicated.

He started getting asked way too many questions.

"Did you and Ellie meet here or before camp?"

"Does she like sushi or burgers better?"

"Wait, so are you guys, like, exclusive-exclusive?"

And worst of all: "When's she coming to dinner with the team?"

Will dodged. He weaved. He deflected with the skill of a man who had watched every season of Survivor and thought he could make it on the island.

But then there was Ellie—existing peacefully in her little bubble, smiling at him in the hallways, complimenting him on his stickhandling during practice, handing him water bottles like she wasn't accidentally the co-star in his elaborate charade.

She was the worst fake girlfriend.

Not because she was bad at it. She was great at it actually.

But because she didn't know she was one.

—

"You've been acting weird," she said one afternoon, handing him a compression wrap.

Will choked. "Weird? Me? I'm literally the least weird person in this room."

"There's only two of us."

"Exactly."

She narrowed her eyes, amused. "You're deflecting."

He fumbled. "I'm mysterious."

"You're twitchy."

"Hey, how's school going?!"

Ellie blinked at the hard subject change but let it slide, going off about her upcoming exams and a group project she was 99% sure would be the death of her.

Will nodded, listening but also sweating internally because why was she so nice? And why did pretending to date her feel so weirdly natural?

He needed a plan.

He needed to keep the lie alive long enough for the team to drop it—and definitely without Ellie figuring it out.

Which would be easy.

Right?

Right.

⸻

Will knew the guys were watching.

It started subtly—Macklin Celebrini lingering a bit too long by the gym entrance, pretending to scroll through his phone. Then William Eklund conveniently choosing the treadmill with the perfect vantage point of the therapy room. Even Tyler Toffoli, usually indifferent to locker room gossip, seemed to find reasons to be nearby whenever Ellie was around.

The pressure was mounting. Every time Will caught one of them glancing over, he felt the need to up his game.

During a routine stretching session, Ellie was demonstrating a new technique. Will leaned in closer than necessary, nodding intently, his arm casually brushing against hers. He could almost feel Macklin's gaze burning into his back.

"You're really getting the hang of this," Ellie said, her voice warm and encouraging.

Will smiled, resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder. "Well, I have a great teacher."

Ellie laughed softly, a sound that always managed to ease his nerves. She was so genuine, so effortlessly kind, and completely unaware of the silent battle Will was waging.

As the days went on, Will found himself seeking her out more frequently. Not just to keep up appearances, but because, truthfully, he enjoyed her company. They'd share lunch breaks, discussing everything from her university classes to his rookie experiences. He'd offer to help her carry equipment, their fingers brushing occasionally, sending unexpected jolts up his arm.

One afternoon, as they were organizing therapy bands, Ellie tilted her head, studying him with those deep brown eyes.

"I've noticed you've been around more lately," she said, a hint of curiosity in her tone.

Will's mind raced. He couldn't exactly tell her the truth—that he'd accidentally started a rumor about them dating and was now trapped in his own web of lies.

He flashed his most disarming smile. "Just love seeing my favorite girl!"

Ellie chuckled, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "You're such a goof, Will."

She returned to her task, leaving Will both relieved and increasingly aware of the warmth spreading in his chest whenever he was around her.

After a week of subtle surveillance, Macklin decided it was time to confront the situation head-on.

During a lull between practice drills, he approached Ellie, who was organizing medical supplies on the sidelines.

"Hey, Ellie," Macklin began, his tone casual but his eyes sharp with curiosity.

She looked up, offering her usual friendly smile. "Hey, Macklin. What's up?"

He leaned against the table, arms crossed. "So, the team's got a reservation this weekend at that new steakhouse downtown. Are you and Will coming together?"

Ellie's brow furrowed slightly, clearly puzzled. "Will and I? Together?"

Macklin nodded, watching her closely.

She hesitated, searching for the right words. "Oh, um, Will and I haven't really discussed plans yet. But if he's going, I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Macklin studied her for a moment longer before offering a satisfied nod. "Alright, just checking. See you there."

As he walked away, Ellie shook her head slightly, muttering to herself, "That was odd."

Unbeknownst to her, Will had been within earshot, heart pounding as he listened to the exchange. Ellie's innocent response had, miraculously, managed to maintain the facade without her even realizing it.

He exhaled a silent sigh of relief, mentally thanking Ellie for being her sweet, oblivious self. For now, his secret was safe.

⸻

"Hey," Ellie said casually, poking her head into the workout room where Will was finishing post-practice stretches. "Macklin said you and I were going to that steakhouse dinner together?"

Will's entire body froze mid-stretch like he'd been caught committing tax fraud.

"Uh—what?" he asked, voice suspiciously high-pitched.

Ellie raised a brow, laughing a little. "You good? You look like I asked you to do my calculus homework."

Will scrambled for a response. "Uhhh... I mean, yeah, yeah. We're going together. I—I think I said that because we live close to each other? So like... rideshare logic?"

Ellie blinked. Then smiled. "Oh! Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

Will let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Crisis averted.

"So," she added, tilting her head, "what time are you picking me up?"

Will's brain short-circuited again, but he somehow managed a grin. "Seven work?"

"Perfect!" she chirped, then turned to leave with a little wave.

He collapsed back onto the mat, hands over his face. "I am in so deep," he muttered to himself.

That Night – 7:25 PM

The Sharks were already seated inside the sleek, dimly lit steakhouse, tucked into a long table with just enough elbow room for their egos. Players and WAGs alike had shown out—suits, dresses, full glam. The waiters were clearly a little overwhelmed by the sheer size of the reservation.

Macklin Celebrini sat at the far end, nursing a soda and keeping a suspicious eye on the entrance. William Eklund beside him leaned back just far enough to peek into the lobby. They were both very ready to witness Will Smith's downfall.

Then the front doors opened.

And there they were.

Will, in a crisp navy button-up, hair actually brushed for once. And Ellie, in a soft yellow dress that made her look like literal sunshine, paired with wedges and a tiny purse. Her hair was pulled half-up, and she looked so perfect it physically pained Will.

What really caught the boys' attention, though, was the parking lot performance.

From their seats, they had the perfect view of Will jogging around to open the car door for her. They watched as she stepped out, a little hesitant in her wedges, arms wrapped tightly around herself against the San Jose chill.

Then—the move.

Will noticed instantly, rubbing the back of his neck before casually slinging an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as they walked.

They couldn't hear what he said—but her head tilted up, cheeks pink, and she let out a giggle so soft and pretty it made half the table blink in unison.

Inside, Will leaned in. "Sorry, I'd give you my jacket if I had one, but I don't think the restaurant would be thrilled if I showed up shirtless. So... this'll have to do."

Ellie giggled again. "You're ridiculous. Thank you."

When they finally made it to the table, the group greeted them with a flurry of side-eyes and smirks.

Will, clueless, helped Ellie into her chair and pulled his in beside her like it was no big deal. Ellie greeted everyone like she always did—smiling, polite, a little shy.

Most of the guys exchanged a glance like, Oh. This is real.

Except Macklin, who squinted across the table like a man on a mission.

And Eklund, who whispered, "They're either dating or he's really good at improv."

"Something's off," Macklin muttered.

Will clinked water glasses with Ellie like he hadn't been spiraling all week and very much was about to choke on his Caesar salad.

He shot a glance at her, still laughing at something Toffoli had said, and smiled despite himself.

Fake girlfriend? Maybe. Unintentional real feelings? ...Yeah, possibly.

But for tonight?

He'd take the win.

⸻

Will was going to combust.

He'd made it thirty minutes into the dinner without incident, which was practically an Olympic-level achievement considering Macklin and Eklund were sitting directly across from him, analyzing his every breath like it was game tape.

Ellie, for her part, was just being... Ellie. Sunshine in a yellow dress, sipping water with two lemon slices like always, laughing at all the right moments, completely unaware that she was currently the centerpiece of Will's accidental soap opera.

She hadn't noticed the extra chair pulled just a little closer to his. Or the way he'd kept an arm draped over the back of hers like it was no big deal. Or the way he kept glancing at her like she was a live wire and he had no business being this close to it.

And then—it happened.

In the middle of the meal, with conversation buzzing and forks clinking against plates, Ellie reached over without looking and gently wiped a smudge of sauce from the corner of Will's mouth with her thumb.

Just. Like. That.

Not a second of hesitation. Like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Will practically short-circuited.

"Uhh—" he choked, blinking rapidly as she returned to her conversation with Henry Thrun like nothing had happened.

His eyes darted across the table. Macklin was staring at him with a raised brow and suspiciously slow sip of water. Eklund looked like he was watching an interrogation scene from a crime show.

Will swallowed. Kept his cool. Pretended he didn't just die a little inside.

Ellie leaned toward him a moment later, brushing her arm against his, and without thinking, Will rested his arm casually along the back of her chair again. This time, it wasn't even a strategic move—it was grounding. He needed it to survive.

Then Cat Toffoli, looking stunning as always in some sleek blazer-dress situation, smiled from a few seats down.

"Aww," she said sweetly, "you guys are so cute."

Both Will and Ellie froze.

Will felt his entire soul detach from his body.

Ellie blinked. "Oh... um. Thanks!"

And then—nothing. She just turned back to her food like someone hadn't just complimented her on her nonexistent relationship.

Will internally screamed.

Macklin's head tilted, slow and thoughtful like he was watching live footage of a wildlife documentary.

Eklund narrowed his eyes. "She's either the best actress I've ever seen... or she really doesn't know."

Will met their stares across the table and smiled tightly. He was losing control fast.

But then Ellie glanced up at him, catching his eye, and smiled that sweet little smile that always made his stomach twist.

And Will realized something terrifying.

He didn't want to stop pretending anymore.

⸻

After the dinner, Will dropped Ellie off at her place with a grin that he swore didn't tremble. She thanked him like she always did—sweet, soft, a little shy—and then gave a small wave as she walked through her front door.

He waited until the door shut behind her before fully exhaling, like he'd been holding his breath all night before walking back to his car.

Then he slumped back into the driver's seat of his car and let the silence wrap around him like a weighted blanket of doom.

What the hell am I doing?

This wasn't supposed to be a thing. It was supposed to be a fake relationship to get the guys off his back. A little white lie to preserve the dignity of a guy who definitely wasn't secretly terrified of girls.

Because Will Smith might've looked like he had it all together—confident, flirty, always saying the right thing. But deep down?

He was a mess.

The reason he'd never had a girlfriend? He was shy. So painfully shy when it came to feelings that he once ghosted a girl for trying to hold his hand on a Ferris wheel.

But with Ellie?

It was different. Too easy. She was sunshine in human form. The kind of girl who made everything brighter just by walking into the room. She laughed with her whole chest, leaned into people when she talked, and made everyone feel like the most important person in the world—even when she was just handing them a water bottle.

Will groaned, dragging his hands through his hair.

He was in trouble.

He didn't know when it happened. Maybe it was when she giggled at his dumb joke during warmups. Or when she'd wiped barbecue sauce off his face at the steakhouse like it was nothing.

Or maybe it was the way she looked at him sometimes. Like really looked at him. Her eyes soft, a little curious, like she was trying to figure him out.

He thumped his forehead gently against the steering wheel.

Honk.

A loud beep pierced the night, his horn setting off a chain reaction of startled honks from neighboring cars.

"Great," he muttered, covering his face. "Just great."

He was spiraling.

Actually, genuinely spiraling.

Hands in his hair, stomach in knots, brain screaming you are fake dating the girl you like and she doesn't even know!

Then—

Buzz.

His phone lit up in the cup holder.

Ellie: You okay?

Will blinked. Turned slowly.

She was standing at her front door again, wrapped in a blanket, phone in one hand, amusement written all over her face. She waved once, eyebrow raised.

He groaned, letting his head drop back on the seat.

She saw the whole thing.

Of course she did.

And of course, she probably thought nothing of it. Just Will being a goof. Her friend. Her coworker.

Not the idiot who was definitely falling for her one fake moment at a time.

Will texted back.

Will: All good. Just fighting for my life.

Her laugh echoed in his head even through the screen.

Yup.

He was in deep.

And this? This was going to be a problem.

⸻

Practice had wrapped, and most of the guys had cleared out, but Ellie was still in the hallway reorganizing a few treatment plans when Macklin Celebrini and William Eklund casually strolled over—just a little too casual.

"Hey, Brooke," Mack said, leaning on the wall next to her.

Ellie glanced up with a smile. "Hey guys. You need something?"

"Nope," Eklund said quickly. "Just hanging out. Long day, huh?"

"Always is," Ellie hummed, flipping a page on her clipboard. "Will was limping again. I told him to stretch more but he's stubborn."

Eklund exchanged a loaded look with Macklin, but kept his tone neutral. "Yeah? You two carpool today?"

"Mhmm," Ellie nodded without looking up. "We usually do after morning skates. I hate driving and he lets me control the aux."

Mack grinned. "What's your go-to playlist?"

"Oh, I've got a rotation. Depends on the vibe. But I always throw in a couple songs Will secretly likes but pretends to hate. He groans every time but doesn't skip them."

Eklund raised a brow. "What, like guilty pleasure music?"

"Exactly," she said, finally glancing up with a sweet, knowing smile. "He has a weird soft spot for Taylor Swift. But I won't tell anyone that."

Mack bit back a grin. "His favorite song?"

Ellie paused. "Okay, this is gonna sound fake, but he loves 'Wildest Dreams.' Like... screams the bridge in the car."

Eklund blinked. "Seriously?"

She giggled. "Dead serious. It's actually kind of impressive."

The two Sharks exchanged a look. This was going sideways.

Mack tried a new angle. "So, like... if Will gets hangry, what's the move?"

"Easy. Chicken tenders and a nap," she said, not missing a beat. "And keep conversation to a minimum until he's eaten. He's dramatic about it."

Eklund looked visibly thrown. "That's... oddly specific."

"I know," Ellie said brightly. "He's kind of a walking tantrum when he's hungry."

The boys were stumped. These were real answers. Couple-level answers.

And yet... Ellie seemed so chill about it. Not gushing. Not flustered. Just... Ellie.

"You ever get in fights with him?" Mack asked carefully.

Ellie scrunched her nose. "Not really. I mean, he gets pouty when I beat him at Mario Kart, but that's on him. I warned him I was good."

"So... no drama?" Eklund asked.

She smiled. "We're pretty easy together, honestly. It's fun."

It was fun.

Too fun.

Macklin and Eklund watched her walk off a minute later, still humming as she disappeared down the hallway.

"...Dude," Eklund said finally. "I think they're actually dating."

"No way," Mack whispered. "Will's been acting like a man on the edge for weeks."

"I don't know, man. She knows his favorite comfort food and his guilty pleasure song."

"She also just called him a tantrum in the body of a hockey player."

"...Fair."

Later that afternoon, the boys watched from afar as Ellie received a bouquet of flowers.

She smiled down at the card with that glowing, delighted look only she could pull off, and Will was standing right next to her.

Mack jabbed Eklund in the ribs. "He got her flowers."

"I'm seeing it," Eklund muttered. "This is insane."

(They did not know the flowers were from Ellie's parents congratulating her on finishing finals.)

Then there was the car ride home. Again.

Then the lunch they ate together in the corner of the lounge, shoulders bumping as they laughed at something on Will's phone.

Then the hallway.

They found them—alone, mid-conversation, completely unaware of their silent audience. Will was leaned against the wall, looking down at her with that look—the kind of look that belonged in a Nicholas Sparks movie.

Ellie was smiling up at him, cheeks pink, hands lightly clasped in front of her. Will leaned in slightly, said something that made her duck her head with a giggle. She bumped his arm, he nudged her back.

No one else was around.

No audience. No act.

And yet... it felt like something real.

The silence between Macklin and Eklund stretched.

Then—

"Okay," Macklin admitted. "Maybe we were wrong."

Eklund sighed. "Or Will's playing the longest con of all time and she's just the best partner in crime?"

They both kept watching.

And somehow, they weren't even mad about it.

They were just... curious.

And very invested.

—

Ellie rarely traveled with the team. She was usually tied up with classes back at the university, so most of the road trips came and went without her presence.

But this time?

Spring break aligned perfectly. No labs, no lectures. Just a brief window of time and an open seat on the team flight. So Ellie packed her essentials and joined the Sharks for their road trip to Colorado.

Will didn't hesitate to claim the seat next to her. Of course he didn't.

The moment they boarded the plane, he threw his backpack in the overhead bin, turned to her with a grin, and said, "Window or aisle, your call."

Ellie laughed softly. "Window. I like the clouds."

Macklin Celebrini and William Eklund were seated directly in front of them.

And they were ready.

Armed with subtle glances and perfectly angled earbuds that weren't even playing music, they listened in shamelessly—because this whole thing? This mystery situationship between Will and Ellie had become their full-time investigation.

And the second the plane started to taxi, the cuteness hit the fan.

"Do you have my headphones in your bag?" Ellie asked, nudging Will's knee with hers.

Will reached down, unzipped a pouch, and handed them to her without a word.

Macklin blinked.

Then Ellie leaned back, brows knitting. "Wait—did you remember to turn the oven off before we left?"

Will groaned dramatically. "You were supposed to check it after I made that frozen pizza."

She gasped. "You left it on?!"

He smirked. "Relax. I turned it off. I just wanted to see you panic."

"Rude," she muttered, smacking his arm.

Eklund tilted his head. "Are they married?"

Then Will added, "Don't forget to call your mom when we land."

"Oh yeah, speaking of parents," Ellie said, suddenly brightening, "how did your dad like that movie I recommended?"

Will grinned. "He loved it. Said he wants to rewatch it with you over FaceTime because he has questions and thinks you're smarter than me."

Ellie beamed, flattered. "He has great taste."

In front of them, Macklin was having a quiet meltdown.

"They're so real," he whispered.

"They're either actually dating," Eklund whispered back, "or we're living in a simulation and none of this is real."

Eventually, the conversation quieted. Will pulled out his laptop, propped it between them, and opened their current binge show—something light and funny that they both always watched together but swore they weren't watching without each other.

They didn't say much after that. Just quiet laughs, small comments, Ellie leaning a little closer as she got comfortable.

Then silence.

Macklin turned around to say something dumb—probably a chirp about their show—and stopped mid-breath.

He nudged Eklund urgently.

They both turned slowly.

And what they saw nearly sent them into cardiac arrest.

Will had shifted into the corner of the seat by the window, legs stretched out across the row. One arm was draped lazily but securely around Ellie, who was curled against him, practically on top of him, her head tucked into his chest, his hand resting on her arm.

Her arm was wrapped around his waist.

The laptop was dark. The episode long finished.

They were both fast asleep.

Macklin sat back in stunned silence.

Eklund stared blankly ahead.

"Okay," Mack finally whispered. "I think they might actually be in love."

"Yeah," Eklund agreed quietly. "We've lost."

And for once... neither of them minded.

⸻

It had been a smooth road trip. No injuries, no drama, just a few wins and a lot of good vibes.

Until Ellie got pulled aside in the hallway by Coach.

Not Will. Not one of the guys. Coach.

Coach gave her a polite nod, crossing his arms. "I've been informed that you're dating Will."

Ellie blinked. "I'm sorry... what?"

"I don't have an issue with it," he added quickly, "you're both adults. Just make sure you keep things professional when you're in the building."

Ellie just stared at him. Brain buffering. "Wait. Dating?"

He raised an eyebrow. "That's what I heard."

"Who told you that?"

"I think it started with Celebrini."

Of course it did.

Ellie nodded slowly, like maybe if she gave herself enough time, the moment would start to make sense. It didn't. She walked away in a daze, grabbing her stuff and heading out to where Will was already waiting in the car to drive her home.

When she got in, Will gave her the usual lazy smile. "Hey. Ready?"

She buckled her seatbelt slowly. "Are we dating?"

The car jerked slightly as Will's foot nearly missed the gas.

"I—what?"

"Coach said we're dating," she said calmly, like she wasn't possibly re-evaluating every moment of her life. "And Mack apparently told him?"

Will froze. Completely.

"Oh my god," he whispered.

Ellie stared. "Are we?"

Silence.

Then—

"I didn't mean for it to go this far!" Will blurted, hands flying off the wheel at a stoplight. "I swear! The guys kept teasing me about being single and I panicked, and I just... said I had a girlfriend! And then they wanted to know who, and I kinda... randomly described you. Because I had a crush on you, like, a huge one, and you were literally right there and—"

Ellie stared, eyes wide.

"—and it made sense because you're always nice to me and everyone adores you, and I thought it would die after a week, but then they didn't believe me so I had to prove it, and you just—kept being you, and I couldn't stop it."

Will looked like he was fighting for air.

"And then I didn't tell you, and it just got worse, and I didn't want you to hate me for lying, and I really didn't mean to fake-date you, it's just now it's not fake because I have very real, very tragic, very permanent feelings for you, and I know I ruined everything and you probably want to punch me in the face but—"

"Will," she said softly, her cheeks fully flushed.

"—and I'm freaking out, and I think I need to call my sister or move to another country or maybe both—"

"Will."

He whipped his head toward her, wide-eyed. "Please say something. Oh my god, did I just mess this all up? I'm so stupid. This is so bad—"

She cut him off.

With a kiss.

Will froze for a second—completely stunned—but then he melted into it, arms loosening, hand finding hers between the seats. Her lips were warm and soft and it was better than every fantasy he'd ever had.

One hand found her jaw, the other tangled in her sleeve, and she melted into him, laughing softly against his lips as they pulled apart.

"I would've said yes," she said breathlessly, cheeks pink, eyes bright. "You know. If you had just asked me out like a normal person."

Will was dazed. "You... you would've?"

She giggled. "Will, I've always thought you were cute. You just never asked."

"I literally faked a relationship because I didn't think you'd say yes."

"And you thought I was the oblivious one," she teased.

Will groaned and dropped his forehead to the steering wheel.

Honk.

She snorted as he flailed. "You've got to stop doing that."

"I can't think straight when you're here," he mumbled into the wheel. "Oh my god, I'm in love with you."

"I'm starting to notice."

—

Unbeknownst to them, across the parking lot, Macklin Celebrini sat in his car, slurping a smoothie and watching the scene unfold through his windshield.

He hadn't heard the words.

But he didn't need to.

He saw the kiss.

He saw the smile on Will's face after.

He saw Ellie laughing, looking at Will like he was the sunshine for once.

Macklin nodded to himself.

"Alright. It's real."

Then he picked up his phone.

Macklin: ur not gonna believe this but it's actually real. like, REALLY real. they kissed. in the parking lot. right now.

Eklund: send pics

Macklin: dude i'm not a creep

Eklund: that's news to me

—

Will was freaking out.

He was pacing the sidewalk in front of her house, pulling at the collar of his sweater, double-checking the dinner reservation under "Smith, party of two," and obsessively checking his hair in his phone camera.

Then, like any reasonable man in distress, he called his sister.

"Grace. SOS."

She picked up on the first ring. "Please tell me you didn't forget deodorant."

"I brought flowers," he said instead, holding the bouquet in one hand like it might suddenly explode. "Is that too much? Is it weird? We've basically been 'dating' for like, two months. This is somehow more stressful."

"It's not too much," Grace said, laughing. "It's perfect. You're nervous because it's real now."

Will groaned. "Yeah, well, real makes me want to throw up."

"Then it's working."

—

Ellie opened her door in a soft sage green sundress and her favorite pair of heeled sandals, hair curled loosely and cheeks already blushing before she even saw him.

Then she did see him—leaning against his car, freshly showered, holding a bouquet of daisies.

Her stomach flipped.

"Oh," she said quietly, smiling like the sun. "You brought me flowers?"

Will froze for half a second, then handed them over with an awkward little shrug. "Thought you deserved some. You've been dating me for months without actually being asked out."

She laughed, soft and sweet. "I didn't mind."

"Well," he said, his voice low and suddenly serious, "I do."

And just like that, Ellie was nervous too.

—

They went to a cozy, hip little restaurant downtown—intimate lighting, trendy cocktails, tiny candles on every table. Definitely a date-night spot. Will held every door open, let her choose the booth, and complimented her three times before they even ordered drinks.

Conversation flowed like it always did—easy, natural, full of low laughter and little looks that lasted longer than they used to. They didn't check their phones. They didn't rush. They stayed long after the plates were cleared, just sipping and talking, the city glowing outside the window behind them.

It was perfect.

Then—

"Oh my god," Ellie whispered suddenly, leaning across the table. "Don't look now, but I swear that's Cat Toffoli."

Will turned immediately.

"Will!" she hissed, laughing.

Sure enough, Cat and Tyler were strolling past their table on their way out. Cat caught sight of them first and lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Ellie! Will! Look at you two!"

Will stood up and gave Tyler a side hug while Ellie leaned in for a hug from Cat.

"You guys look adorable," she whispered into Ellie's ear before pulling away with a knowing grin.

Tyler clapped Will on the shoulder. "Try the tiramisu. Trust me. Split it."

Then they disappeared into the night, leaving Will and Ellie smiling stupidly across the table.

"Tiramisu?" Ellie asked.

Will flagged down their server.

—

Will had barely made it to his stall before Tyler Toffoli, who conveniently sat between Will and Macklin, turned to him with a smirk.

"So?" Tyler asked, casually taping his stick. "How was the tiramisu?"

Will grinned, tugging off his sweatshirt. "Delicious. You were right."

Macklin's head snapped around. "What tiramisu? What restaurant? You went out without me?"

Will shrugged like it was no big deal. "I took Ellie out. Like on a date."

Tyler chimed in, totally unbothered. "Saw them at this cute downtown spot with Cat. They looked so cute all dressed up. I had to say something."

Macklin stared at Will. "You really took her on a date?"

Will smirked, still high off last night. "Yup. Proper one. Flowers and everything."

Mack slumped against his stall, looking betrayed. "Unbelievable."

"You'll get over it," Will said, tugging on his jersey.

But the whole time, he was smiling to himself.

Because this time?

It wasn't fake.

⸻

A year and a half into dating, and Will and Ellie were still the couple that made people's teeth hurt.

They were that couple—matching hoodies, forehead kisses at the rink, inside jokes that made no sense, and a suspiciously high number of shared playlists. Will still lit up every time she walked into a room. Ellie still blushed when he kissed her cheek, even if it happened thirty times a day.

Tonight, most of the Sharks were crammed into Mario Ferraro's house for a lowkey night of pizza, video games, and yelling at the TV.

Ellie and Will? They were in the kitchen.

Bickering.

Loudly.

"I told you not to watch it without me," Ellie huffed, hands on her hips, wearing one of Will's hoodies and looking so betrayed. "That was our show."

Will, leaning dramatically against the fridge, groaned. "It was one episode! One! I was on the road and bored!"

"It was our show, Will! That's basically emotional cheating!"

"You were asleep by nine that night!"

"I was exhausted because someone dragged me to an early morning skate!"

"You insisted on making pancakes afterward!"

"I thought it would be romantic!" she gasped, hand flying to her chest.

Will raised an eyebrow. "So this isn't romantic?"

They glared. It was heated. Petty. A little ridiculous.

And then—

"You never would've done that while you were dating me without my knowledge!"

Silence.

Utter. Silence.

The living room went quiet. Like dead silent. No chewing. No breathing.

Ellie froze, eyes wide. "Oh... shoot."

Will turned bright red. Like stop-sign red.

She winced. "I wasn't supposed to say that, was I?"

He lunged toward her instantly, wrapping her in a suffocating bear hug, smothering her against his chest. "You're so dead. You're so dead."

From the other room came a chorus of gasps and groans.

And then—two familiar heads slowly peeked around the kitchen corner.

Macklin Celebrini, smugger than ever. William Eklund, arms crossed and grinning like a cat who finally caught the canary.

"So," Mack said slowly. "It was fake?"

Will groaned into Ellie's shoulder.

Ellie peeked around him, cheeks pink but grinning. "For a good 3 months, yeah. I was as clueless as you guys."

Eklund pointed at Will. "We knew something was off. The way it came out of nowhere? The way Will was acting? Come on."

Will let his forehead fall dramatically onto Ellie's shoulder. "I hate everything."

"You faked a relationship," Mack said, "and then fell in love for real? That's some Hallmark-level stuff."

"I panicked!" Will shouted into the void. "And then she was just... her. And I couldn't not like her! Have you met her?"

"She's literally the nicest person alive," Eklund agreed, nodding solemnly. "Honestly, we're impressed."

From the couch, Cat Toffoli yelled, "Called it!"

Tyler shouted, "It all makes sense now!"

And from then on, no matter what Will did, the boys never let him forget it.

Anytime Ellie walked into the locker room? "Careful, boys. Will might be fake-dating her again."

Every anniversary? "Happy Fakeiversary!"

" Did you count all the months you were fake dating? Or only the months you were actually dating."

Every time he so much as looked at her with heart eyes? "Wow. That fake girlfriend really got to you, huh?"

And Will?

He took it. Because, yeah.

The crisp cold air prickled against your nose the moment you stepped into the SAP Center, a world utterly foreign to you. Growing up in sunny California, your life had revolved around beaches, sun-kissed boardwalks, and the lazy rhythm of waves lapping against the shore. Skating had been something you’d only ever seen in movies — elegant and effortless. And hockey? That was a mystery, a sport that belonged to distant snowy places you never thought about.

But here you were, bundled up in a long puffer jacket, watching as players and their families swirled around the rink. The air buzzed with laughter and chatter, children weaving between the adults with fearless abandon, while you hovered on the edge, your heart pounding against your ribs.

Will watched as your eyes darted around the rink, clearly nervous about skating for the first time. “Hey,” he said softly, pulling your gaze away from the ice. “Come sit, I’ll help you with your skates.”

You perched nervously on the bench, your legs bouncing slightly as Will crouched in front of you, guiding your foot into the skate. His fingers worked expertly, threading the laces through each eyelet, tugging them tight but not too tight.

“Okay,” he said, glancing up at you as he tied the knot. “First rule of skating: trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “Easier said than done. What if I fall? Or take someone else out? Or—”

“Hey.” His voice was low, soothing, and when his eyes met yours, the chaos of the rink seemed to fade for a moment. “You’re not gonna fall. And if you do, guess what? I’ll be right there to catch you. Or at least to laugh with you about it.”

That earned a small laugh, and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders ease.

Will finished tying your skate and patted your knee. “There. All set. You’re officially ready to hit the ice.”

You glanced warily at the rink, where a group of kids zipped past, giggling. “I don’t know if I can do this, Will…”

Will stood up, holding out his hand with an encouraging smile. “You can. And you’re not doing it alone. Come on, take it one step at a time.”

Reluctantly, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his grip steadying you as you stood on the thick rubber mats that led to the rink. The skates felt alien beneath your feet, your ankles wobbling with each step. Will stayed close, his other hand at your elbow as he guided you to the edge of the ice.

“Okay, deep breath,” he said, stepping onto the ice first with practiced ease. His movements were fluid, as if the rink was his second home. He turned to you, his hand still extended. “One foot, then the other. You’ve got this.”

You hesitated, staring at the shimmering ice that stretched out endlessly in front of you. Your stomach twisted, and for a second, you thought about bolting back to the bench. But then you saw Will’s expression — patient, reassuring, and full of quiet confidence in you.

With a shaky inhale, you stepped onto the ice. The blade slipped slightly beneath you, and you clutched his hand like a lifeline.

“See? Not so bad,” he said with a grin, steadying you with both hands now. “Just keep your knees bent a little, and don’t lock them. That’ll help you balance.”

You nodded, still gripping his hands tightly as he led you forward. Your steps were cautious and slow, more like a shuffle than actual skating. Every few seconds, your skates would slide unpredictably, and you’d let out a startled squeak, causing Will to chuckle.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice like a warm anchor in the chaos of your mind. “You’re doing great. Just focus on me, okay?”

Little by little, you started to find a rhythm. Will kept his movements slow and steady, walking backward as he guided you further out onto the ice. The sound of blades cutting through the ice and the laughter of others faded into the background.

“Okay, I’m gonna let go now,” Will said, stopping in the middle of the rink.

“What? No!” Your voice rose in panic, and your grip on his hands tightened.

“You’ve got this,” he reassured, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Trust me.”

Before you could protest further, he gently released your hands and skated a few feet away.

The moment he let go, you wobbled, your arms flailing as you tried to keep your balance. Your heart pounded as you felt the unsteady glide of the skates beneath you. “Will!”

“You’re doing it!” he called, his smile wide and proud.

You blinked, realizing you were still upright, albeit wobbling like a newborn fawn. Tentatively, you pushed one foot forward, then the other. The movement was slow and uncoordinated, but it was progress. A thrill of accomplishment surged through you.

“I’m skating!” you said, half-laughing, half-disbelieving.

“Damn right you are,” Will said, skating backward to stay close, ready to catch you if needed.

Just as you were starting to feel proud of yourself, a blur of motion zipped by, and you heard a familiar voice call out, “Looking good out there, Bambi!” Macklin skated right past you, a smirk plastered on his face. 

“Bambi?” you echoed, glaring at him as he sped off.

Will was at your side in an instant, laughing. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous you’re picking it up so quickly.”

“I doubt that,” you said, your lips twitching into a grin despite yourself.

Macklin looped back around, throwing in a dramatic spin before skating off again. “Just don’t take out any kids, okay?” he called over his shoulder.

“Push me in his direction, I’m gonna fall on him and take him out.” you said, eyes narrowing on his speedy figure as he skated away.

Will burst out laughing, holding onto your waist to keep you from actually launching yourself in Macklin's direction.  “Not today, Bambi. Let’s stick to standing and skating for now.”

You grumbled something under your breath that Will couldn’t quite make out, but couldn’t stop smiling as Will guided you into another slow lap around the rink. He kept a hand on your back this time, steady and reassuring, while the other waved dramatically at Macklin as if to warn him to keep his distance.

You continued to focus on keeping your balance. The sensation of skating was still foreign, every movement precarious, but you were starting to feel a little braver. Your legs shook less with each stride, and you managed to glance around, taking in the rink without feeling overwhelmed.

By the time you stepped off the ice, your legs were like jelly, and your cheeks ached from smiling so much. As you sank onto the bench, putting your feet in Will’s lap so he could help you take off your skates, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I can’t believe I actually did that.”

Will plopped down beside you, his own skates still on. “I told you you could. And you didn’t even fall once. That’s impressive.”

“What can I say, I’m a natural.” you shrugged.

Will smirked, tugging your skate off and setting it aside. “A natural, huh? Should I sign you up for the next practice? You and Macklin can battle for ice time.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully nudging his shoulder. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. But… I think I could get used to this.”