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It was late. I stared at my final research paper, checking it for the fourth time for typos while snow howled outside my window. Early American Economics and Environmental History turned out to be a bigger pain in the ass than I expected from an elective history course. But finally, it was over. My last paper for my last fall semester finals.
Now all I needed to focus on was hockey. And, well, Hannah. But that was a luxury, not work.
Downstairs, I heard the distinct sound of my front door creaking open and clicking shut. When light footsteps sounded from the stairs, I smiled knowing it was Wellsy. All my roommates stomped on the stairs like they were determined to test the old home’s structural integrity. Hannah took quiet, measured steps, like she was raised in a civilized society.
My bedroom door cracked open next and I turned in my desk chair, greeting her with a smirk.
She entered my dim room, lit only by my laptop and a small lamp. She closed the door behind her quietly, probably assuming the other guys were studying in their respective rooms, and tiptoed across the wooden floors with a tired, beautiful smile.
She wore black leggings and a blue cropped Briar hoodie. I smiled at that, knowing her best friend had ironed a giant 44 and “Fan Club President” on the back of it.
“Hi,” she whispered. I expected her to lean in for a kiss, but instead she plopped down unceremoniously on my lap and tucked her face into the space between my neck and shoulder. I breathed a laugh, circling my arms around her frame and rubbing circles on her back as she somehow curled up even smaller. “Sleep now,” she yawned into my skin.
One thing about us? We’re both entirely too busy. Always.
“Did you remember to eat?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet for her benefit.
“Carrots.”
“And?”
Hannah’s head rose from my shoulder and she peered at me with that cute divot between her brows.
I sighed. “Wellsy, please tell me you ate more than just carrots today.”
Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth for a moment. She fidgeted with the collar of my shirt and admitted sullenly, “It’s been a very, very long day. I won’t wither away from a few missed meals.”
I stood, still holding Hannah in my arms. She had enough sense not to protest as I carried her back through my bedroom door, and downstairs. When we reached the kitchen, I deposited her on the counter, turned to walk to the fridge, but paused, and turned back to her before cupping her face and catching her lips with mine.
“Hi, baby,” I smiled against her mouth. That blush I loved so much bloomed across her cheeks, and she closed her eyes shyly while rubbing the tip of her nose across my jaw. “Food first. Then sleep. Deal?”
And god, I couldn’t believe I was so lucky. I couldn’t believe that gorgeous smile was directed at me. I couldn’t wrap my head around Hannah Wells choosing me to love, choosing me to love her back.
“Thought we agreed no more deals?”
“Mm.” I winked, lightly tickling her ribs to hear that husky laugh I heard in my dreams. “We’ll make an exception tonight.”
Hannah watched as I melted butter in a pan and assembled our grilled cheese sandwiches, filling in the spaces with comments about her final exams. She still had one more final–a verbal presentation for her music theory class. That, and the winter showcase, but that wasn’t for another week.
I listened to her talk about music, about her piece for the showcase, and thought about how far she’d come in the last year. A year ago, she was preparing for the pop showcase–so unsure of how much of herself she wanted to expose with her music, how much of herself she wanted to reexamine and revisit. Now she wrote music with the trained ear and self-assured lyricism of someone who had been doing it, opening up through their music, for a decade.
She was fucking incredible.
And, because she’s Hannah, she made sure to talk about me, too. She asked about my final paper, asked if I wanted her to read it over (I enthusiastically accepted), asked about my next game. She made sure to point out the dark bruise on my hip when I stretched, causing the hem of my shirt to rise. She ate the grilled cheese I served her with a pointed look, and filled a sandwich bag with ice for my hockey-battered torso with a pointed look of her own.
We teased and poked and tickled and kissed and enjoyed each other's company over a meal tried and true by college kids everywhere.
Later, in my bed, she convinced me to keep the ice on my hip in exchange for her head between my legs. I agreed to her terms. Obviously.
And after, when she kissed up my stomach, lingering on the bruise below my ribs, she said my favorite words in the world.
“I love you.”
“I love you, Wellsy.”
I pulled her up my body, too impatient to wait for her tortuous pace to my mouth. She swallowed my groan when I tasted myself on her tongue, and I was suddenly ready for more of her. It really didn’t matter how tired I was–Hannah was an aphrodisiac of the highest potency.
We should have been sleeping. We both needed it.
But we spent the next hour panting and sweating with whispered declarations of love peppered throughout. I was pressed into her while her fingernails pressed into my back. I held her hips and kept the pace while she held my heart and kept all her promises.
The next morning, Little Garrett woke up before I did, thanks to Hannah’s ass rubbing against me while she slept. I was practically foaming at the mouth to have her again, but a quick glance at my phone told me I only had ten minutes to get out the door for practice. I sighed, willing my dick to calm down, and dusted soft kisses along the column of my girl’s neck, paying extra attention to her favorite spot behind her ear. When she backed into me again, sighing happily, I held her hip with a firm hand and laughed into her hair.
“Killing me, Wellsy. I have practice.”
“Fuck practice.” She didn’t turn around or open her eyes, but I could hear the smile in her voice.
“I think you want me to fuck you.”
“Astute observation, Graham.”
“It’s too early in the morning for words like ‘astute’.”
That pulled a real laugh from her, and I felt like the fucking sun was rising inside of me.
Hannah turned around, slotting one of her smooth legs between mine, and graced me with that pretty smile.
“Mornin’, Captain.”
I kissed her gently, melting when she hummed against my lips.
“Good morning, baby. I’ll be back in a couple hours. Will you stay?”
She made a show of rolling onto her back and starfishing on my mattress, wiggling her bed head into the pillows.
“Wiiild, wild horses couldn’t drag me awaaay,” she sang dramatically before adding, “from this bed today.”
“You’re so fucking weird,” I laughed.
“But you love me.”
“I do. So much.”
And as much as I hated it, I got out of bed and dressed for practice while my weird, amazing, naked girlfriend watched me from beneath the comforter. Our eyes snagged and I shook my head to clear my brain of intrusive thoughts that would most certainly get me into trouble with my coach. It was an exercise of willpower to kiss her goodbye and drag myself to my door.
But as I crossed through the threshold, something occurred to me.
We were finishing our fall semester finals. Then, we only had one last spring semester. And with all the chaos of hockey and music, we hadn’t talked about what happens next year.
I paused, gripping the doorframe, and turned to look at Hannah. She'd rolled over to my side of the bed to smoosh her face into my pillow.
That did something to my chest. It always did.
“Wellsy.”
She pressed up on one elbow, the blankets slipping down past her breasts. Another act of willpower to keep my focus on her face.
“When I get back, let’s figure out what we’re doing next year.”
Her brows pulled together in question.
“What do you mean?”
I shrugged nonchalantly.
“I don’t know. I’m thinking we should start looking for apartments in Boston.”
I choked down a laugh as her eyes widened, watching her scramble to sit up completely in bed. She tucked her hair behind her ears and licked her lips.
“Are you asking me to shack up with you, Graham?”
I lost the battle of keeping my eyes on hers, and let her watch my gaze drop to her bare chest.
“I mean, this is a pretty awesome way to start our mornings.”
Hannah simply stared at me, like she was trying to decide if I was fucking with her, or if I’d gotten a concussion on the ice. When the slow smile grew across her face with a glitter of emotion in her bright blue eyes, I knew.
This girl was going to be my forever.
We were going to make one hell of a life together.
“Yeah?” she whispered, still grinning. “You want… you want me to move to Boston?”
Rolling my eyes playfully, I corrected her. “Keep up, Wellsy. I want you to move to Boston with me. Together. Us in one house.”
She bit her lip as she shook her head in that disbelieving, hilarious way she did.
“Do the Bruins know they signed a crazy person?”
At the same time, Logan yelled from downstairs, “G, move your ass! We’re late!”
I licked my lips and winked at Hannah. “Crazy for you, baby. Seriously, let’s talk when I get back. I gotta go. Love you.”
I hurried down the stairs as Hannah’s husky laughter echoed down the hallway.
Outside, the guys and I loaded into my Jeep when I heard Hannah yell my name.
Logan, Dean, Tucker and I looked up at my bedroom window simultaneously, each of us halfway into the vehicle. Hannah was leaning out the window, and thank fuck she’d put a shirt on.
My shirt, to be exact.
“Please don’t fall,” I called through a laugh. The guys all snickered.
“Wellsy! We all love you, but it’s Captain Garrett time, not Boyfriend Garrett time,” Dean teased from behind me.
Hannah only rolled her eyes and lifted her middle finger, smiling and batting her lashes at him.
But then that smile came back to me.
I braced my elbow on the roof of my car, trying to look casual and cool, and not like I was vibrating with the need to know what she wanted to tell me.
“Hey, Garrett?”
I smiled, shaking my head at her.
“Yeah, Wellsy?”
“I’d love to live in sin with you in Boston.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled out of me if I tried. My head tipped back as the guys took turns looking between each other, repeating the words “huh” and “what.”
After a moment, I regained my composure and looked back up at my favorite person. And I yelled back, “We won’t be living in sin forever, you know.”
“Did he just propose to her?”
“I think he proposed to propose?”
“From the driveway? While she’s hanging out the window?”
"It's like Rapunzel!"
Hannah and I held each other’s eyes, laughing into the crisp December air. Neither of us responded to my roommates’ excited, albeit confused, commentary.
A minute passed, and it was past time to go. I slapped my hand on the roof twice and said, “Alright, we really gotta roll out.” Then, calling back up to Wellsy, I added, “I love you. See you soon.”
Hannah lowered down, resting her chin on folded hands across my windowsill.
“I’ll be the one naked in your bed. Love you, Captain.”
I sucked my teeth to hold back a groan, giving her a look that promised retribution after my practice. Somehow, I forced myself into the driver’s seat and pulled away from my house. Away from Hannah Wells. In my bed. Without clothes.
Dean and Tucker couldn’t stop squawking about it on the way to the rink.
“So y’all are moving in together after graduation?” Tucker asked from behind Logan. I glanced at him through the rearview mirror, fully aware that I looked like the biggest lovestruck puppy dog on the planet.
“I asked her this morning.”
“‘Attaboy!” Dean roared, leaning forward to shake my shoulder. “Domestic as fuck. I feel like a proud papa.” He wiped an imaginary tear. "They grow up so fast!"
As we pulled into the parking lot, I noticed Logan had little to say on the drive, but the stupid, knowing smirk stayed on his face the whole time. Tuck and Dean barreled ahead of us, and I couldn’t help but use the moment to speak to Logan privately.
I nudged him with my elbow once we’d walked into the complex. He was still smirking at me.
“What?” I asked with a laugh. “Got something to say?”
Logan grinned wider, nudging me back, while we kept our strides at the same pace.
“Garrett Graham.”
“John Logan.”
We snorted together again, at the ridiculousness of it all, or maybe the obviousness of it all–I wasn’t sure.
“You’re gonna marry that girl, huh?”
That stopped me.
Logan took two more steps, then paused to turn around, looking at me like he knew all my secrets before I knew them myself.
My best friend in the world, the guy who knew me better than anyone else. Well, until Hannah came along, at least.
And his question? Easiest answer ever.
“Yeah, man. One of these days, I’m gonna marry that girl.”
Logan studied me for a few beats, right there in the lobby. When he closed the distance between us, wrapping me into a god’s honest hug, I knew I was one lucky son of a bitch. I had the career of my dreams right around the corner, the love of an amazing woman to bask in, and the best friends anyone could ask for.
Pulling back with something that looked like tears or an airplane in his eyes, Logan cleared his throat and slapped me on the back.
“I can’t wait to stand next to you when you do.”
I couldn’t fucking wait either.