#brock boeser x oc

[writingonleaves]

bundles of flowers (we'll wade through the hours of cold) - brock boeser

pairing: brock boeser x original female character

warnings: literally nothing, lots of fluff, flower research i did two years ago, not proofread

title: “promise" by ben howard

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: dug up a creative writing piece i wrote two years ago for a class and tweaked it a bit to create this. happy holidays to all. hope you all enjoy <3

*****

It’s a routine.

When Amber Chen was a young girl, she spent most days after school at Petals Lab & Design, zooming through the front door into her father’s waiting arms, chattering about the meal she had whipped up in the play kitchen at Kindergarten that day. Customers would fawn at her pigtails as she hid shyly behind her father or skipped behind the counter and hoisted herself up on a stool, munching on apple slices her mother had cut.

During her high school days, she would be sure to lock her car twice, twirling her keys around her pointer finger as she walked in. She’d drop her backpack, placing her iced green tea in the center of the counter. If the shop was filled with customers, she’d go into the back room and check the whiteboard filled with her father’s scrawl. If the shop was empty, she’d lean her head on her chin while listening as her parents rattled on about shipments or what was going to for dinner that night. On Mondays and Fridays, it was just her and Xavier or Willow in the shop. On those afternoons, she blasted the music a little louder, swayed her hips a little bolder and dragged whichever poor soul was working that day into a dramatic dance that always left both of them laughing. 

Once Amber went to college, she still found herself coming in every other Sunday to help out, with a sample of whatever baked good she had made that week, an iced green tea, a hot black coffee and a cappuccino. Her mother would always roll her eyes, before reaching for a cookie or cupcake or brownie, chewing it thoughtfully for a couple of seconds and scrunching up her nose. 

“This is too sweet,” she’d say, or, “Too much chocolate.” 

Her father would then wander out, taking a small sip of his coffee first before placing a gentle kiss in her hair. 

“Missed you. How are classes?” Before she could answer, he would always get distracted by something else, whether it be a customer, a phone call or the sudden epiphany of remembering something he had to do hours ago. 

Amber knows that a bouquet of lilies was always acceptable for a funeral or that corsages cost $30 on average, and that yes, they can find a flower color to match the dress. She could rattle off cost estimation for bouquets by the time she was 13. She even finds herself from time to time sitting across from couples at a table tucked in the back corner of their shop, pulling out wrinkled papers to consult them about the floral arrangements for their wedding. 

One hot morning in July, she’s left completely alone to open the shop. Her parents are helping with preparations at a large wedding. She had decided to play one of her favorite playlists over the speakers, soft guitar plucking and the honey-like voice of John Mayer accompanying the routine of putting out the flowers that had arrived that morning. The music’s louder than usual, as people usually flock in about an hour after opening.

But this time, the bell rings after two songs, and she looks up to see a guy around her age, gray hoodie over his blonde hair, black vans covering his feet. The neutral color scheme of his outfit heavily contrasts the bright colors of the flowers around him. He has a calm aura about him, hunched shoulders as if he’s trying to make himself smaller to fit into the shop. She shoots him a tired smile before going back to stocking the bouquets of roses. She waits until the end of the song to speak up, finding him glancing at the orchids.

“Anything I can help you with today?”

He looks up, “Uh, not at the moment.” His hand reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “My mom’s birthday is today, and I’m a jackass who is getting her something right before she wakes up.”

“Well, orchids are always a solid choice.” Amber backs away with a small nod. “Let me know if you need anything.” He hums in thanks, and she walks back to the register. 

She pulls out her laptop and looks over the materials her eventual boss sent her to read before her first day of work in a month,  singing along to “Daughters” under her breath, ears alert for the tinkling of the bell at the front door. 

She looks up to see the guy shuffling to the counter, and closes her laptop. He clears his throat, eyes bright and smile contagious. “Do you happen to do custom bouquets?”

“We do.” Amber walks from behind the counter and leads him to their lab, eyes going to the multitudes of flowers and brain already spinning with ideas. “Tell me about your mom. What’s your relationship with her like?”

He blinks. “Good. She’s literally always smiling. Has never yelled at me once. She’s the strongest woman I know.” He trails off as she gathers a couple of various stems. “That all you need?”

“Well, let’s see.” She points at each flower as she describes them. “Gerbera Daisies represent happiness, pink carnations represent gratitude and peonies represent prosperity and good health. Pair all that with some baby’s breath and you got a beautiful bouquet right there.” She raises an eyebrow. “Ultimately though, it’s your gift. I can do whatever you’d like.”

“No,” he shakes his head with a nervous chuckle. “It’s perfect. Go ahead.”

She flashes him a grin before methodically cutting the stems of the flowers, arranging them into a lively arrangement of colors and wrapping it all together with tissue paper and a ribbon to match.

He pays for the bouquet at the register, and when she comes around the counter to hand it to him, he thanks her before ducking his head down and walking back out into the muggy Saturday morning air. She blinks as she watches him get into his car, but shakes her head to herself as the phone starts ringing. 

A few weeks later, Amber finds herself waking up to a frantic call from her mother, asking if she can meet up at Camrose Hill for a wedding. Her father has to deal with a shipping miscommunication back at the store, and she needs one more helping hand. When Amber arrives, she steps out, travel mug filled with tea in her right hand and her left hand smoothing down her red floral dress. After asking around, she finds her mother next to carts filled with roses in various colors. With a quick hug, Amber gets to work on building the arch, the light breeze making her regret not putting her hair up. 

“Funny seeing you here.”

She looks up and blinks twice, standing up from her crouched position. 

“Good morning.” She eyes him up and down, admiring his white button up and black dress pants. 

“You here for the wedding?”

“I’m the Best Man, actually.” He chuckles, shoving his hand in his pockets. “My best friend’s getting married.”

“Congratulations,” she says softly, climbing onto a nearby chair to reach the top of the arch. “Beautiful place to do it too.”

He nods, eyebrows furrowing as she stumbles slightly in her heeled sandals. “Do you need help?”

“Absolutely not. You’re a guest. You shouldn’t even be out here right now.” He eyes her warily when she attempts to reach down to grab some roses off the cart, hands automatically going up as she almost falls over. She sighs, “Fine. Grab me five ivory ones and three pink ones, please. And the scissors.”

“So, what do they mean?”

“Hm?”

“The roses. What do they mean?”

She glances at him as she intertwines the stems together, wiggling her fingers at him for more flowers. “They’re roses. Roses are pretty typical for a wedding, generally symbolizing love. I’m sure you know that.”

“How about the colors?” 

“Your friend’s soon to be wife chose ivory instead of white, and ivory usually means gracefulness. Peach roses are usually given as a thank you gift, so gratitude and sincerity is tied to that one. I’ll admit that green roses are more rarer in weddings, but it means growth, so perhaps the start of growing together as a married couple?” She shrugs. “Or maybe she just likes the color combination.”

“Knowing Stacy? It was probably very methodical.”

Amber laughs airily, before sticking her hand out. “Help me down? I need to move the chair to the other side.”

Before he can respond, someone from inside the tent calls his name. He helps her down quickly, before running his hand through his hair. 

She hums. Brock. It fits. “So that’s your name.”

“Can I get yours?” He asks hopefully. 

His name is called again and Amber shrugs with a sly grin. “Another time. Think you’re needed, Best Man.”

With a slight huff, he backs away with a wave. Her attention goes back to her fingers as she threads the flowers into the white arch, listening to the chatter of the other employees preparing. She’s out of the venue before the guests have even started arriving.

The summer always brings in tourists from all over, many itching to take a peek at a shop that has a rainbow of flowers outside of its doors. Balancing her new job at a PR firm, she pops in to help her parents, fingers slowly getting scars and cheekbones beginning to hurt daily. 

On a day where the sun is shining bright and the shop is in a lull during lunch hour, Brock walks in. His smile is wide as he makes small talk with her mother across the shop. Amber freezes when she sees both sets of eyes on her, and swallows her tea as he walks over. 

“Hi again.”

“I came in yesterday looking for you,” he said. “Your parents told me to come back today.”

“Looking for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Did they tell you my name?” 

“Amber.” Fuck, her name rolls off his tongue so sweetly. 

“That’s what they call me.”

“Beautiful name for a stunning girl.”

She snorts, “What can I do for you?”

He grins slightly at her professional tone. “My mom was complaining about how her place isn’t homey enough, so I figured I’d come to my favorite flower shop and talk to the experts about how to fix that.”

“My parents could’ve helped you with that.”

“I know, but I wanted your opinion.”

She moves from behind the counter, lips lifting into a smile as he immediately follows her. “If you want just a bouquet, you can never go wrong with sunflowers. And judging from your sporadically timed visits, you’re probably not around town much, so it wouldn’t be wise to get a plant that you would actually have to take care of. Unless that’s what your mother wants.”

“How do you-”

She stops in front of the sunflowers, ignoring his question. “We got a fresh delivery this morning. If you don’t like these, there are plenty of orchids I’d suggest as well.”

“I’ll take the sunflowers. What’s the special meaning of these?”

“Exactly what they look like. They bring happiness into people’s day.”

“That they do.” She feels her cheeks flush from his stare.

She quickly rings him up and bids him farewell as he walks out the door, smiling to her parents along the way. They both turn their heads to look at her as soon as the door shuts, and she rolls her eyes before venturing into the back room, ignoring the shout of questions and comments.

Winter rolls around quickly. Every time someone has purchased sunflowers these past couple of months, she can’t help but think of Brock; the last image of him imprinted in her brain was him walking out the door with sunflowers in his hand. That was four months ago.

Since then, Amber’s figured out who he is. Brock Boeser. Vancouver Canucks. Minnesota’s very own. She’s spent many nights with a few glasses of wine deep thinking too much about it. 

She’s outside the shop one day after a long day of work, on top of a ladder, gloved fingers fumbling around with the string of lights. Her cheeks are rosy, snowflakes are sticking to her hair and she’s been yawning every five minutes for the last hour, but she’s determined to get these lights up before she locks up in 15 minutes. The poinsettias, mistletoe and holly are scheduled to arrive the next morning.

“Are you guys still open?”

She straightens up at the familiar voice and tightens the gray scarf around her neck. “Yep. I’ll be down in a minute.” She hangs the last of the lights and plugs them in. Wiping her eyes with the heels of her palms, she stores the ladder away and walks in. 

“Brock. Hey. What can I help you with today?” She asks, ducking into the back room to hang up her coat. The shop is quiet, crooning notes of Spotify’s “Christmas Coffeehouse” playing in the background. The dark blue button up peeking out of his black winter coat makes her smile. It’s the most color she has ever seen on him.

“Can you help me with a bouquet?”

“Of course.” She observes the half-empty buckets. “What things do you want to symbolize this time?”

“I actually know what I want.”

“Oh yeah? Great. What would you like?”

“Purple lilacs, irises, pink roses and baby’s breath, please.”

“Just give me a second. The roses are in the back.” She begins arranging the flowers and looks up as she’s grabbing the wrapping paper, noticing his confused stare. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, you just, didn’t tell me what they mean. Like, the flowers.”

Amber chuckles. “You’ve obviously done your research. You still want me to?” Brock nods. “Okay, purple lilacs symbolize first love, irises symbolize wisdom and eloquence. Roses are romantic, but pink ones specifically? That symbolizes admiration. So I would guess you’re giving this to someone you like, maybe a romantic partner? Someone you haven’t been with for long?”

He whistles, “Damn. You’re good.”

Her heart sinks the slightest bit as she shrugs, before a particular set of flower stems caught her eye. “I know it’s your bouquet, but how would you feel about adding daffodils? It would add a beautiful contrast to all the purple you have in here. I won’t even charge you for it.”

“Add them in, and charge me for it too.” She plucks the daffodils out of the bin, separating them throughout the bouquet. “What do those mean?” Brock asks. 

“The daffodils?”

“Yeah.”

She clears her throat. “New beginnings.”

After adding the finishing touch of a purple ribbon, she punches the sale in the register and walks from behind the counter to hand the bouquet to him. 

Brock shakes his head. “Nope.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Sorry?”

“They’re for you, actually.” She raises an eyebrow, and he continues, flexing his fingers continuously. “It’s my stupid way of asking if you would like to go on a date with me.”

She looks down at the bouquet and back up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Right now?”

“If you’re free. Or in a couple weeks. I, uh, I don’t work around here, unfortunately. So I won’t be back in Minnesota until about a month or two.”

“I know who you are, Brock Boeser.” She hands the flowers to him again. “Hold these while I close up?”

“Is that a yes?”

Amber grins, scanning the shop. “Yeah. It’s not stupid, by the way.” She shuts off the lights, grabs her coat and locks the front door, her date for the night following her obediently. “It’s actually really sweet.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” She tentatively reaches for his fingers with her other hand as she admires the bouquet. “Do you wanna know something?”

“Anything,” He says, leaning down so he can hear her better.

“Daffodils are actually my favorite flower.”

“Like, ever? Out of all flowers?”

“Out of all flowers.”

He leads her to Osteria La Buca with a wink that has her stomach flipping. “What a coincidence.”

She looks down at the bouquet with a smile.

#k writes #in case anyone needs a break from holiday chaos #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #hockey writing #nhl #nhl blurb #nhl writing #hockey rpf #nhl rpf #brock boeser #brock boeser writing #brock boeser fic #vancouver canucks #brock boeser x oc

[pcttymcrlecu]

fools rush in (and i've been a fool before)

inspired kind-of by: please don’t say you love me by gabrielle aplin

summary: previous fears, heavy words and a fear of change hinders the spark that turned lilah’s heart into summer despite the long canadian winter.

featuring: lilah j. winters (oc) and the vancouver canucks, namely bo horvat, holly horvat, tulsa horvat, milo boeser and coolie boeser

word count: 4k

warnings: none 

m’s rambles: this is for @antoineroussel​’s winter fic exchange 2023. i was given the joy of writing for @torontoflames​ so i hope you enjoy this c!! i spent so long going back and forth hoping to create something worthy to gift to you! it was surprisingly really difficult - not sure i made it as angsty/hurt-comfort as i wanted to but i still hope you enjoy it!

big big thank you to demi for quelling my fears and uncertainties as well as giving me some much needed second opinion on the fic. it’s so very much appreciated!!

i hope you enjoy this semi-personal piece of work – it’s inspired roughly by a relationship/situation i had when i first went to university, so it was cathartic for me to get this out there. there’s a line in here that this someone said to me, and i had to use it. like it’s something and it’s stuck with me, and i needed to make way for it in something i wrote, and this was apparently it. i wonder if you can figure out which line it is.

Lilah had grown up around athletes her whole life which had led to her interest in working with them as a grown-up. When she moved to university, she had somehow cemented herself a place amongst the college athletes in her year by pure chance which made her life easier in the later years of her university career. As cheesy as it sounds, they’d all become like brothers to her and for that, she was more than happy to have found them.

When a fortunate internship program for her chosen career as a sports psychologist had brought Bo Horvat into her life, she never expected to become an honorary Horvat. It had taken mere moments for Bo to claim the young woman, who at the time was a nervous wreck, as his sister and quickly took her under his wing. She would be lying to say she didn’t appreciate having someone on her side in such a daunting and intimidating situation. He took his responsibilities as a big brother seriously and she couldn’t thank him enough for his kindness.

Knowing Bo Horvat came with knowing the rest of the Vancouver Canucks, thus a whole host of new brothers were introduced to her world. Most of whom were happy to play protective big brother when needed on nights out. Their partners gave her a welcome reprieve from all the testosterone whenever she’d see them around to the point where she began to receive invites to brunches and casual hangouts. It was a whole new circle that she could never have dreamed of being a part of and yet when she’d pinch herself, they didn’t fade, and the woman would be lying if she said it didn’t make her feel all warm inside.

Lilah considered herself a woman of strong will and wasn’t one to swoon over any of the players just because of who they were. She thought she’d created strong defences against their so-called charm considering how long she’d been around the flirtatious tendencies of young athletes and yet here she caught herself floating off the ground slightly at the sight of a certain blond. Her eyes were scanning the scene happening in the garden, bobbing gently with Tulsa in her arms in an attempt to give her parents some free time to just exist as a couple, not parents. She loved taking care of them, being their self-proclaimed favourite aunt, and team barbeques like this gave her all the time in the world to cuddle them.  They also gave her the time to observe the man who had unwittingly swept her right off her feet by simply playing around his pair of canine friends.

When she had first met Brock, it had been during one of her training sessions at Thunderbird Arena when she had been introduced to him. He was one of the players she hadn’t met directly through Bo but rather through the very reason she was even allowed to wander around the players in the first place. They hadn’t spoken much; she was mainly there to observe and had made a vow to stay out of the players' way if she didn’t need to interact with them so as to not bother them. It wasn’t until they’d run into each other once again at a dinner party Holly had convinced Bo to throw that they had slipped into surprisingly easy conversation.

Most likely due to the closeness in their age, the two of them got along like a house of fire. Both fed off each other as they supported one another throughout their careers. She had found a safe space in confiding in the hockey player and was more than happy to be there to listen not as a training professional but simply as a friend. The easiness of their friendship should have been a clear warning sign for the woman but as time progressed she couldn’t spot the signs of things changing until it was too late. It felt like all the air had been stolen from her lungs when the reality of her feelings had finally been processed in her mind. She had left that gathering abruptly, claiming she had a report deadline she had forgotten about before disappearing. 

It was a mistake she had made before and she had sworn to herself she wouldn’t date a young athlete ever again, no matter how endearing and kind they seemed. It was almost as if life had intended for her to date one of the university athletes, after all, she spent as much time with them as she did with her actual friends. If you asked her now, she’d say it was nothing but an unfortunate situation and that she doesn’t hold any resentment towards him. But the hurt which was fed by predominantly fear remained. She knew that Brock would never be the kind of person who would humiliate her in the same way it happened in the past, but she couldn’t quite let go of what-ifs that plagued her mind. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake – not at the risk of her newfound friends.

What made it worse was as her feelings began to process in her mind, all their friends teasing came back to haunt her. The two of them were practically as thick as thieves regardless of how short a time they had known each other and the more she thought about it, the more she could see exactly why her friends were constantly teasing them. What she dismissed once as feeling comfortable and safe with Brock, while all true, she could now acknowledge the underlying reasons behind why everything with him just felt right. Lilah hadn’t realised how far they’d progressed entirely subconsciously, and she wasn’t sure how exactly she should feel about but she wasn’t comfortable anymore.

The following weeks were nothing but declined invites and unanswered phone calls. The only times her friends were able to see her were when they were all at work and it was nothing but professionalism when they were able to speak to her. It wasn’t until Holly turned up at her apartment door with a concerned look on her face and open arms that the truth finally came out. The older woman promised not to tell anyone not even her husband until Lilah did so herself.

From that moment, it was slow going to become part of the group once again. None of her friends mentioned her absence rather they just adopted her back into the pack as if nothing had happened. Getting comfortable around Brock, however, was much more difficult for her. She didn’t want to slip back into their old routine, it was dangerous for her because she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to hold off being near him again. It had taken a much longer length of time, many bribes and an ambush movie night with Milo and Coolie for her to fall back into a comfortable routine with the boy. She still claimed that the puppies did all the heavy lifting that evening.

The same pup that now had an insistent wet nose against her knee, gently pawing at her leg demanding attention. For an excitable young dog Milo who nearly always wanted to do nothing else but play, he was always very aware of young children as he was being so around the baby in Lilah’s arms right now. The dog’s presence, however, clued her into the man who was walking in her direction.

“Hello Prince Charming,” She greeted as he huffed sitting down in the seat beside her, taking a moment to coo at the little girl before rolling his eyes.

“Get off it,” His grumble came, Milo making quick work of getting pets from his dad before wandering off to play with his brother and the other dogs loose in the garden.

“The resemblance is uncanny Boeser you can’t deny it.” She sighed as she leaned over to give the man a gentle push, “I’ll never be able to watch Shrek the same ever again.” 

The laugh that followed was cut short as she paused a moment to look down at the small peaceful face against her chest. Smiling over at him, Lilah took a moment to watch the false frustration on his face fall as he smiled back at her with a good-natured shake of his head. 

“I should have chosen another movie to force you to watch,”

“You shouldn’t have forced me to watch anything!”

“And risk losing my newest friend, no thanks.” Her eyes rolled at his words, a strange tightness building in her chest at what she knew was supposed to be a friendly quip. 

In isolating herself, while it allowed her to wrap her head around the craziness of her own feelings, she had strained the relationships she would say she had been gifted. The whole process was entirely selfish of her, and she hadn’t taken a single moment to consider how it would make her new friends feel.

“You mean a lot more to me than you seem to think you know.” The words cut through her train of thought like a sharp blade, spreading a cold chill through her entire being as she slowly turned her head to look at him through the corner of her eye. Brock’s eyes were already affixed on her, monitoring the slightest changes to her expression. His sudden attentiveness struck a deep fear within her. Even though she knew she should be happy about the implications of his statement, she couldn’t help but feel that feeling of fear sit in her chest again, “I thought I’d lost any inkling of a chance, you know?”

It wasn’t until a beat later that she turned to look at him, adjusting the sleeping infant in her arms to not disturb her, “Chance at what?”

“A chance at being able to tell you that –“

“You know what it doesn’t matter it was in the past.” Her interruption was firm, Lilah could only hope it was firm enough for Brock to get the message to just stop. To let her breathe and process. To give her room to do what she does best and run. 

“It’s not in the past,” He answered louder than either of them had expected, huffing as he turned away and slumped in his seat, “We’ve never spoken about why you cut us all off.”

“Why would we?”

“I can’t speak for the others, but I was scared for you Lils.” His voice was so heart-shatteringly genuine to Lilah to the point where it felt as if she’d been punched straight in the gut.

“No need to be scared for me,” The words were, hopefully, encouraging as she reached over and lightly patted his arm before going back to support Tulsa.

“I can’t help it; I like you, Lilah. I know we joke about it when the others poke and prod, but I really do feel–“

“Brock please don’t do that–”

“Lilah listen to me.”

“You can’t finish that sentence.”

“Why not?”

“Because–!”

“Because? Surely you have a better answer than that.” The look of hurt didn’t escape her notice, but she found herself more focused on the growing frustration on his brow. Real this time – not the light-hearted fake expression he had been donning earlier in their conversation.

“Just– how… we’ve only been friends up until now.”

“Doesn’t mean things can’t change!” His voice was not only getting more frantic but there was a definite tone of conviction that was supported by the look on his face, “I’ve liked you since I met you. I just didn’t know how to get close to you as more than a friend. You were working for the team at the time, I didn’t want to mess that up for you. So, you became my best friend, and I wouldn’t trade that.”

Several beats passed after his confession and Lilah was finding it hard to not only process. A part of her was scolding herself at how thoughtful of her career he was being. They’d spent far too many nights talking about where she hoped to get to in the future so it only made sense that he wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that. The words that followed were whispered, barely carrying any sound, but his response told her that he’d heard it perfectly clearly. “It’s too fast”

“Ask anyone, ask Bo.”

“I believe you, Brock, I just,” Lilah took in a deep breath as she looked back out to the party her eyes hunting for the brother-like figure who had just been mentioned, “I’ve done this before. There’s an expectation being with someone like you and I couldn’t live up to it before, I’m sure as hell not trying again. I’m not going to lose myself again.”

“I wouldn’t ever ask you to change, I thought you knew that.” He had clearly taken some offence from the implication of her words but what hurt Brock more was how much he understood where she was coming from. He knew it wasn’t easy being with him but they were already closer than close, surely a change of their status wouldn’t have that much of an effect?

He’d also say with her when she finally felt comfortable enough to truly be herself and speak about why it wasn’t just her internship that had her reluctant to date any of the players. He remembered having held her close as he watched his, granted reserved, but strong in every sense of the word friend fight to keep her wits about her. It wasn’t until he had let her know that he was there for her that the floodgates and all details about her past were revealed to him. The pain had etched itself into Brock’s heart the more he heard her say with an accompaniment of anger at her ex, boys in general, the world. He wasn’t sure but he knew she didn’t deserve to go through what she had. No one did. 

It’s why he refused to fight her about it. Even though the feeling of rejection cut him deep, it wasn’t deep enough for her to suddenly forget the thought of vengeance in her name that had sat in the recesses of his mind since that eye-opening evening. Instead of fighting and trying to convince her to give him a chance, Brock bit his tongue. He stayed quiet beside her, not knowing where else to go that wouldn’t upset her further until she spoke up once again, directing his attention out of his head and back onto her.

“I don’t I don’t want to lose you. You mean so much to me and I love where we are, how we are.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment as they simply looked at one another. The look of hurt on Brock’s face had only deepened but she could see understanding slip into his face and she couldn’t help but smile to herself. Even in a situation where he’s not getting what he wants, he’s so willing and ready to understand. She would be lying if she said that it didn’t hurt to see him so down. With a forlorn sigh, she carefully rose from her seat and stared ahead at Bo uttering softly before she walked towards him. “Why should we put that pressure on ourselves?“

Brock had been watching her from the moment she walked away, moving to pass Tulsa back to her parents before giving them a wave. It wasn’t until Lilah had walked back into the house to presumably leave that he let himself answer her question. “Because we could be a diamond.”

A blind man could see that there was a shift in the way the two twenty-somethings interacted. The smooth, slickness of their close friendship, which everyone had gotten bored of teasing the two of them about, had gotten more strained than when Lilah had ignored them all. Maybe because it was clear that she was only making an active effort to avoid Brock which unintentionally put a strain on the whole group. Even Lilah could see that she was pulling her friends in two directions, but she couldn’t quite work through her previous experiences to just open up to the one person she knew she needed to speak to.

With the help of multiple glasses of wine deep into a girl’s night, the girls in question had torn down the walls she had put up hiding behind self-deprecating jokes and sarcasm until Lilah’s voice finally cracked as she shared her fears with her friends. They were all quick to wrap her in tight hugs and comfort her, but they weren’t leaving without helping her fix the knot she had tied herself into.

“You realise he’s hurting too, right?” Holly muttered softly, gently lifting the girl’s chin to face her as she listened to her sniffle. The older woman gently wiped the girl’s tears away, offering her a sisterly smile.

“I know and I hate myself for it.” Lilah’s words prompted very firm shakes from not only Holly but the rest of the gathered women.

“He’s never going to hold it over you. He knows how much you were hurt before, and he’d hate to put you through that again.” She confirmed as Lilah’s hand reached up to catch the newly formed tears before they streaked down her face with their friends, “But he’d never–“

“Let that happen, I know Holl.” A frustrated grunt left her mouth as she threw her hands up at no one but herself, “I’m avoiding him because I don’t want to see the sadness on his face when I can’t repeat his words to him. I don’t want to rush into anything – not this time.”

“Then let him know, don’t leave him wondering whether or not you like him at all.” The reality of what she had left Brock to assume finally hit her, a wave and dread flooding her body before resolve took its place. She was going to make things right, the only way she knew how.

Despite her throbbing head, she was up bright and early for work. Maybe brainstorming with your girls and drinking nearly a bottle of wine to yourself isn’t the best way to fuel your energy levels the night before a workday. Her hands held the tupperware tightly as she walked through the practice facility, a burn she’d procured in her tipsy state was on display on her wrist. A small price to pay she had convinced herself, but she was adamant to start making amends immediately. Anxiety was starting to build in her chest, it felt as though someone was pressing down on her heart the closer she got to the locker room, but her mind was set, and she was going to do it.

When her fist gently knocked on the locker room door, knowing only a few of the team would have actually arrived so early before practice but she knew Brock was one of them (Bo as well in case she needed the moral support). A yell followed her knock, but she only responded with another knock until the door was pulled open to reveal big brother himself who immediately cheered at the sight of her. Fortunately, all the boys were dressed, or at least covered up, as they welcomed her inside. Lilah’s greeting was brief, and she momentarily forgot why she even made the journey until Conor asked about what she was holding.

“Oh yeah – Brock these are for you, I know you like them.” Her voice was as soft as it had been when she first met the boys which they all found weird but understood considering the tension everyone had felt around the two recently. She carefully handed over the container which Brock took apprehensively but accepted with a nod, nonetheless. Watching as he pulled the lid off to reveal protein brownie, a smile that she hadn’t seen on his face (at least around her) made residence on his lips as he looked up at her. After the first time she had made the brownies for the boys, Brock had been begging her to make him a batch, but she always brushed the request off, claiming she was too busy, “I finally had some time to make you some more.”

Giving him a quick smile and a shrug, she turned on her heels and walked straight out of the locker room. Pausing as soon as she was out of their sights to just breathe in deep and fill her lungs properly feeling a little lost for breath but proud of herself for the courage that she had displayed. It was small but she knew it was just the start of her apologies. As she set off down the hallway again with a slight skip in her step, a hand slipped around her bicep gently turning her back around to face the way she had just come.

“Thank you,” Was the first thing she heard as her eyes settled on Brock who had let go of her arm and taken a step back. A weak smile was still perched on his lips as he spoke, clearly trying to lighten the mood, “The boys are a little envious, especially Bo.”

“I think he’s just used to getting the baked goods for himself.” Lilah joked with a nervous smile, watching his face before choosing to bite the bullet and just say what she’s been wanting to say, “Listen, Boes – I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelings.”

“Then why did you just walk away? And then avoid me?”

“I told you; I didn’t want to lose you.” It was the honest truth, they both knew it but she also knew it wasn’t the full story. With his kindness and thoughtfulness and willingness to understand, he deserved to know everything, “Being around you makes me both the happiest person in the world and also the most nervous.”

Brock almost couldn’t believe the words he was hearing as his brows furrowed in response, “I make you nervous? Is this still because of the expectations? Of being with a professional athlete?”

“No Brock, I’ve seen you in a clay face mask, I’m not nervous because of who you are!” They both laughed at the memory she had mentioned, it being the same night he gained his new nickname from her, “You make me nervous because my tummy starts to turn, and my heart beats out of control when I’m around you.”

“I’m not going to ask you to do anything that makes you feel unhappy or unsettled. I’m happy where we are too so long as you let me stay here” He couldn’t help but worry that he might have pushed too far and what that meant for their future as friends. His fingers tried to get rid of the anxious energy by softly nudging Lilah’s fingers with her own until he felt a light squeeze from her.

“I didn’t stop you from speaking because I didn’t reciprocate but because I panicked.”

“So, you do care about me the same way?” 

The pure confusion on his face was endearing and all Lilah could do in response was further reduce the gap between them. She reached over and gently took his hand in her own, first grasping onto his fingers and allowing him the opportunity to pull away. When she felt the pressure of his finger bending slightly to hold onto her own, she slipped her hand further in his until their palms sat firmly against one another, “I like how we are, I wasn’t lying. But I can’t deny that my heart skips a beat whenever I’m with you, but we’d be foolish to rush into this and ruin everything that we have. Brock you are my Prince Charming–“

“But he’s–“

“I know he’s the bad guy don’t ruin the moment.” He let out a short laugh, copying her previous actions and stepping closer to her and quickly making work of holding her other hand, “ But I need us to take this slow, can we do that?”

“Of course we can.” The words were whispered as if an entire weight had just fallen off his back. Pulling her across the minimal space between them, his arms wrapped her in the tightest hug he could manage without hurting her and placed a kiss on the crown of her head, “ Whatever you need, you’re what I’ve been looking for.”

#the winter fic exchange 2k23 #brock boeser x oc #( m writing. ) #( this entire pic was one of the most challenging things I've done with writing in almost a year so thank you for the opportunity! ) #( it was a rollercoaster but a lot of fun! ) #brock boeser imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #brock boeser fic

[laurenairay]

afraid to know the answer - B. Boeser

Summary: Being friends with benefits with Brock Boeser has a lot of perks...most of the time. Malia finds out the hard way what that means.

Warnings: fwb, oblivious dumb Brock, pining, implied smut but no actual smut, a slow digression into anxiety.

Word count: 9k words

A/N: Title from True by Ryan Cabrera

As @antoineroussel​ said, “we love a dumbass even if they unintentionally break hearts” – and thank you so much for all your help with this one Demi! Also tagging @danglesnipecelly​ and @matthewtkachuk​ as I know much both of you love Brock too 💛 

This has been a work of absolute love, so I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!

*

“Are you sure your friend won’t mind you ditching her?”

“Considering she was sitting in the lap of one of your buddies as we walked out? I think I’ll be fine,” Malia mused.

He just laughed, tilting his head back slightly, making her stomach fill with butterflies. Fuck this guy was so hot. It was going to be a night to remember for sure. While it wasn’t unusual for Malia to leave a bar with a guy in tow, she already knew tonight was going to be different. Call it intuition, or maybe it was crazy attraction. There was just something about this guy that stood out.

And it wasn’t just because he was Brock Boeser.

Yeah, she knew who he was. Born and raised in Vancouver, how could she not? And she knew he knew that she knew who he was - it definitely made things easier anyway. It wasn’t like her friends had been very subtle either; flirting and giggling with that large group of athletes straight away, while Malia struck up conversation with a few of the other guys until it was just herself and Brock left talking.

Well, until they’d decided to take their conversation somewhere more private. Malia knew what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to mess around with subtlety when she could be between his sheets. It was as simple as that - he seemed to appreciate it at least.

In the taxi back to his apartment, she all but sat on her hands to keep herself composed, blood rushing through her body at the heated looks Brock sent her way, blatant in his desire and appreciation without even saying a word. And from the moment he closed the front door behind her, it was lips and hands and heat and breathlessness and dizzying heights of pleasure until she laid on his bed panting by his side, with wide eyes and aching thighs.

“Fuck me that was good,” Brock groaned, running a hand through his damp hair.

Good to know he felt the same

“You read my mind,” she laughed, turning her head to look at him.

“Yeah?” Brock said, grinning as he propped himself upright with one arm.

It normally gave her the ick when guys fished for compliments like this but, as she thought, there was just something different about him.

“Yeah,” she grinned back, tilting her head to kiss him as he leaned over towards her.

Malia lost a few more moments in his lips, the kisses staying slow but full of promise, consuming her every thought until she had to break the embrace to be able to breathe properly. How was it this good with him? They’d only met a few hours ago, it felt impossible.

“We should do this again sometime,” he said nonchalantly, although she could see the hope in his eyes.

Eager. She could always work with that, especially with someone who’d earned it.

“Sounds good to me,” Malia grinned lazily.

“Like, no strings would be so good for me right now,”

Huh. She paused for a second, taking him in. Was that such a bad idea? Great sex on tap? No worries about trying to impress him on dates or looking cute or trying to read between the lines? Just having a sure thing ready and willing?

She’d be stupid to say no to that.

“You’re pretty bold, Brock Boeser,” she teased, earning a blush on those pretty cheeks, “But you’re also very pretty…so why not?”

“This is going to be fun,” he grinned, “You’ll see. Here’s to friends with benefits.”

Here’s to friends with benefits indeed.

*

Malia hadn’t necessarily expected much to come from those few hours with Brock. Sure, the sex the night they met was incredible, and sure, he’d actually prompted the arrangement himself, making sure they’d exchanged phone numbers before she left his apartment, but for anything to actually happen? Not what she expected at all.

But then he’d messaged three days later, after a Canucks homestand win, asking her to come over again, even going as far as to pay for her Uber. To know he wanted to celebrate a game winning goal with her? Well, it had been pretty flattering, if she was being honest with herself – and when that night went just as well as the first (if not better, because he remembered a few things from the last time), it had sparked a few more hook-ups over the following weeks.

Their friends-with-benefits agreement had only gone from strength to strength, alternating whose apartment they would go to, completely spontaneous and impulsive. Malia genuinely couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so satisfied and yet so comfortable, and she knew she only had Brock to thank for that, for making things so fun and easy.

And she found herself awaiting the next time her phone would ring, knowing each time they met would only get better than the last.

“Hey beautiful.”

“Hello to you too,” Malia mused, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

She found herself grinning as she opened up another email, even more so as Brock laughed down the phone at the fake formality. It wasn’t often that she had to work late, very rare in fact, but it was one of those nights. At least she could do it from the comfort of her apartment, relaxing in her sweatpants.

And at least she had Brock to take her mind off things.

It was far from the first time he’d called her up on an evening, and the more he learned exactly what made her body tick, the more she was willing to answer his calls. She’d be crazy not to, she knew that much.

“I hope I’m not distracting you from work too much.”

“You’re always distracting, Brock Boeser, but that is a good thing,” she teased.

She smiled even wider as he huffed at the use of his full name; another perk of their growing friendship – she knew exactly how to push his buttons to get what she wanted. And what she wanted after hearing his sweet voice was him.

“So you won’t mind if I turn up at your door in, ooh, the next 10 minutes?”

Malia laughed, a little incredulously. There was no way he could drive from his apartment to her apartment in the next 10 minutes – he had to already be on his way. Why would he do that? What did that even mean?

“What if I already had plans?” she mused.

She was meant to be working, after all.

“I figured there was a 99% chance of you dropping them if I asked nicely.”

Oh that tease.

“Sounding pretty sure of yourself there,” she mused, biting her bottom lip slightly as desire started to swirl in her blood.

“I know what you like.”

The casualness in his voice, like he was so certain, sent tingles up her spine, enough to drown out the mild alarm sounding in her mind. There was no time or room for doubt. Not when he was nearly there. Not when she wanted him in her bed as soon as possible.

“I guess we’ll see about that,” she said coolly, feigning indifference.

Brock just laughed, seeing right through her words, and she found herself still smiling as he ended the call.

Malia lounged on the sofa while she waited for her doorbell to ring, lazily scrolling through a couple of emails that came through regarding the project she was working on. There was no point in changing into anything sexy or enticing – Brock knew she was working late, and if he wanted the booty call, he’d have to settle for her messy bun and sweatpants. It wasn’t like the sweatpants would stay on for very long anyway. Hopefully.

Soon enough, he was walking into her apartment. Soon enough, he had her pinned to the wall next to the front door, hand cupped behind her head as he kissed her with so much intent that she felt weak at the knees.

Neither of them were patient enough to make it to the bedroom, not that Malia particularly cared about that. No, she felt the same rush that Brock did, both of them desperately stripping off items of clothing as they stumbled down the hallway, barely breaking their embrace, crashing into furniture and bashing their elbows on the walls until she pushed him down into the armchair and straddled his lap. Neither of them even spoke, the only noise being Brock’s deep groan as she tore open the condom wrapper, Malia cutting that noise off with another kiss.

She lost herself in the rhythm and the pleasure, over and over again, time swirling until she cried out, burying her face in his shoulder until he followed her over the edge, his hands clutching tightly at her body as the waves rushed over him too. Fuck. It had been desperate and passionate and so hot. And nothing like she’d ever had with anyone else before. Why was it always so good with him?

“So I guess you do know what I like,” Malia grinned, when she was pulling her sweatpants back on.

“Just making our friendship stronger,” he said simply.

She threw her head back, laughing. Brock just looked pleased with himself for getting that reaction. He really was dedicated to this friends with benefits thing, wasn’t he?

“I can stick around for round two, if you want,” he suggested, “unless you have too much work to do.”

"I don’t have much left to do, but how the hell am I supposed to concentrate on work now?" she mused.

Brock shrugged, grinning in answer. Asshat.

"Some friend you are,” she said, pursing her lips.

He just laughed, his eyes crinkling in that way she liked. Malia shook her head, finding herself smiling in response, but just pulled her sweatshirt over her head instead, ignoring the way her heart raced at the pure joy in Brock’s expression. He really was something special.

“If you’re serious about hanging around for round two, help yourself to anything in the kitchen and I’ll meet you in the bedroom. Shouldn’t be more than half an hour,” she said simply, sitting down in front of her laptop once more.

“Alright, I’ll be waiting,” he said, smiling easily at her.

She watched his bare body stroll out of the room, not knowing what to do with how much she liked how comfortable he was around her, until the ping of an email broke her out of her thoughts. Right, yes, work project. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could join him in her bed. Priorities.

Their friendship really did have its perks.

*

It had been well over a week since Malia managed to see Brock – he’d had a road trip on the first weekend of this stretch of not seeing each other but then, typically the day he arrived back to Vancouver, she’d been presented with a new project at work. The stress of the tight deadline consumed her completely, leaving her barely able to remember to eat regular meals let alone text him back. And sure, she felt bad, she really did – but that was the beauty of being fuck buddies, of having the casual relationship that they did. She wasn’t always going to be available. He definitely wasn’t always going to be available. But she knew that he would be there and ready to help her blow off some steam when her project was completed, and that was all that mattered.

After a long nine days of working far too many late nights, after she’d saved and sent the project on, Malia poured herself a large glass of wine. Perfect. The only thing that could make her evening better was having Brock there to celebrate with. And there was nothing stopping her from seeing if he was free, right? Subtly, of course.

So she took a picture of her wine glass, with her feet kicked up on the sofa and her closed laptop in the background, and sent it to him, with the simple message ‘finally finished my project x’.

His quick reply of ‘I’m on my way x’ melted away the last of the tension in her body.

By the time Brock stepped through her front door and hung up his jacket, Malia had long finished her glass of wine. What? It had been a long week and she deserved it. Well, after the plans she had for Brock anyway. She kissed him in greeting, slowly, softly, just long enough to ensure that Brock whimpered when she pulled away, sending a thrill through her body.

“I need to take a shower,” Malia said innocently, waiting until Brock’s smile fell slightly before smiling sharply, “Care to join me?”

“Fuck yes,” Brock breathed.

She laughed at the eagerness in his voice, making him blush slightly. That was the response she’d hoped for. Without saying another word, Malia turned on her heel and walked through the apartment to her bathroom, Brock trailing eagerly behind her, and the moment that the bathroom door shut behind him she stripped out of her clothes. He stood a little dumbstruck, just staring at her bare body, making her smirk slightly in gratification. Brock broke out of his stupor when she turned the shower on, blushing all over again, and he raced to strip his clothes off too as she stepped under the water.

Malia lost track of time as their wet bodies intertwined, gasps and moans filling the room just as much as the steam from the shower did, Brock easily bringing her to heights of pleasure that left her shaking. And sure, she did actually wash her hair with Brock’s help, but his strong hands had only led to round two. Not that she was complaining. With the glass of wine she’d had and now the multiple orgasms? She was well on the way to being fully relaxed after such a stressful week.

“Think you can handle another round?” Brock murmured, kissing her neck where he was standing behind her, as she wrapped a towel around her body.

Mm, what a thought. And hell yes, obviously.

“Can you handle another round?” she teased, passing him a towel of his own.

Brock just grinned, roughly drying his body, making her laugh softly. His eagerness never failed to amaze her – but she wasn’t going to complain about receiving the benefits of it. She kissed him again once he’d wrapped the towel around his waist, breath hitching in her throat at the familiar feeling of his large hands holding her tight, and her head swirled with the thoughts of all the things she wanted to do to him. To do with him. The possibilities were endless, and she didn’t want to waste any more time before he had to leave. Brock pouted when she broke the kiss, just making her laugh again, but the pout faded to a grin as she stepped around him to leave the bathroom. Malia smiled to herself as she heard him go after her, feeling a certain power in the fact that he followed her so easily, body thrumming with excitement already. But as she stepped through her bedroom doorway, Brock stopped walking, almost as if he froze in thought. 

“I’ll be back in just a second.”

He walked out of her bedroom before she could ask where he was going, making her frown. What the hell? Way to break the moment, Brock. She braided her hair in silence, tying it back to keep it out of her face, still frowning a little when he eventually returned, a small box in hand.

What the hell?

He saw the confused look on her face but just smiled, sitting down next to her on the bed. “I got you something.”

“What?” Malia said, baffled.

He’d never given her a gift before. She certainly hadn’t given him one. This wasn’t what friends with benefits did, not at all. What the fuck? But Brock just handed her the small box silently, still smiling, so she let out a soft huffed breath and carefully unwrapped it – but when she saw what he’d bought her, her breath hitched in her throat.

“You got me a new pair of airpods?” she said a little incredulously, looking over at him in confusion.

“Yeah! I know you like to listen to meditation podcasts before you go to bed after stressful workdays, but I know that you broke your old pair…so I got you a new set!” Brock nodded.

She opened her mouth to respond, but quickly closed it again when no words came. It was a rare thing for her to be rendered speechless, but he’d damn well achieved it with this surprise. Airpods weren’t just a casual make-you-feel-better gift. What was he playing at? What was his end game here? Did he think he needed to buy her gifts like this, just because they were fuck buddies? No, no, that wasn’t Brock’s nature at all. He wasn’t that kind of guy, she knew that much – but why?

“Why did you buy them, Brock?” Malia eventually asked, not understanding. Where had this come from? He’d never done anything like this before – why now?

“I don’t know – I just saw them and thought of you,” he shrugged.

“Really?” she said, frowning slightly.

Brock huffed out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, making her raise an eyebrow. What was he thinking?

“It’s just…you’ve been so stressed this week, with work. When I saw them, I remembered you talking about breaking your last pair, and all I could think was that they would make you smile, especially to be able to wind down at the end of the day. Is that stupid?” he said a little sheepishly.

Oh bless him. The tension in her chest eased at the earnest look in her eyes. What an absolute sweetheart. He bought her a gift because he wanted to make her smile? And he remembered something she’d said in passing weeks ago? Malia ignored the niggles in the back of her mind screaming what the fuck and grinned up at him, earning a relieved smile back.

“It isn’t stupid at all, Brock. It’s really sweet, actually,” she said softly, still a little stunned.

He really thought about her when she wasn’t around?

“I’m glad you like it. I just wanted to make you feel better, you know?” Brock said happily, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

That’s what friends are for. Were they those kind of friends? Something twinged inside of her, something she wasn’t willing to explore at all, and again she firmly pushed it down until all she could feel was happiness. He’d done something so genuinely nice and sweet for her, without any kind of prompting, and there was no way she was going to let him think she didn’t appreciate that. No, she needed to bring back some balance, stop herself from feeling so off-kilter. And she knew exactly what she wanted to do.

“You know what friends are also for?” Malia said sweetly, echoing his words as she slid a hand over his towel-covered thigh, smiling sharply enough that a slight haze came over Brock’s eyes.

“W-what?” he said, before shaking his head as if to clear it.

She silently moved off the bed to kneel in between his thighs on the floor, tugging his towel free from his waist, and Brock’s only response was to moan in anticipation.

*

Another night, another text from Brock asking if she was free. Malia didn’t ever drop plans if she had them, or if she genuinely had work that she couldn’t afford to be distracted from, but she was free as a bird, and more than happy to drive over to his apartment to…reconnect. It had been a couple of weeks, okay? Road trips for him and late nights in the office for her – it all added up to not having that time to hook up, to release any tension, and she was more than happy to get tangled up in his bed again.

"Fuck, you don't know what you do to me," Brock groaned into her neck, nipping the skin enough to make her breath hitch in her throat.

“No-one else gets you off like that, huh?” Malia smirked, running a hand through her hair as she stretched extravagantly on his bedsheets, the sweat cooling on her skin.

“I’m not seeing anyone else,” he shrugged, lifting his head.

What?

Not that she was ‘seeing’ anyone else either…but, what?

“You’re not?” she asked, confused as she looked up at him.

“No? I figured things were so good and easy between us, that there was no reason to sleep with anyone else,” Brock said simply.

She searched his face, trying to figure out what game he was playing, but all she saw were those pretty blue eyes, sleepy but honest. There was nothing hidden in his words, was there? There was nothing but innocence. But to phrase it like he did? That he wasn’t seeing anyone else? Did he really not know what he implied when he said those words? Not even a little bit?

“Huh,” was all she managed to say, sitting upright for the first time in hours.

Brock’s easy expression clouded a little and he got up on his knees, shuffling over to where she was sitting legs over the side of his bed to sit behind her. She didn’t realise how tense her body was until his body was supporting hers, soft and vulnerable and gentle, and she tilted her head to the side with a small smile as he pressed slow kisses into her skin.

“Everything good?” he asked, nipping her earlobe.

Her breath hitched in her throat again, making him laugh, so she smacked his thigh lightly, only earning more laughter. But as she turned around to look at him properly, she saw the concern still lingering on his face.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Brock,” she nodded.

Everything was fine, right? It had to be. She couldn’t afford for it not to be. So why did his words affect her like they did?

Malia was able to keep her composure until she left his apartment, desperately grateful that she had driven over instead of taking an Uber because it allowed her the freedom to let her face do whatever the fuck it wanted to, rather than having to keep a neutral mask over her expression. As she drove the familiar route home, she mostly let the motions of driving consume her thoughts, not fully letting herself get lost in the emotions that were threatening to boil over, but as soon as she parked her car and walked up to her own apartment, she let those thoughts finally swirl.

Thoughts of Brock.

Thoughts of their friends with benefits arrangement.

Thoughts of how it had all started to change without her realising.

“I’m not seeing anyone else.”

Why would he phrase it like that? What did that even mean? Was she reading too much into it? Maybe she was – maybe Brock hadn’t meant anything by his choice of words at all…so why was she getting caught up on that? Why did his words make her stumble like that? Only a couple of weeks prior, she had been luxuriating in the happy ease of their friends with benefits arrangement, thriving in the lack of anything more…so why had his choice of words sent that spiralling?

The more she let herself linger on it, now curled up on her sofa, the worse her thoughts scrambled. Why did she care so much? Why did she care whether Brock meant one thing or another? What did it matter? Everything between them was great as it was, so why would she want to change that? There really wasn’t any point in stressing herself out by wondering about underlying meanings, or hidden words, or even unspoken possibilities. No, their friends with benefits situation was perfect exactly as it was.

But could it be more?

No, hoping wishing thinking of more was a dangerous road to travel down, and she couldn’t bear doing it knowing it would be a fruitless endeavour. No, what she and Brock had between them was all she needed, and that’s all it could be. That’s all it could be, right?

*

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Malia grinned at the familiar body pressing up behind her, allowing the crush of the dance floor to give her the excuse to lean her back up against his chest, smiling as his hands moved to cover her hips.

“Wasn’t sure you were going to make it,” she said, tilting her head up to look at Brock properly.

She smiled at the strobe lights flashing around them, all the different colours pulsing over his glorious hair. She’d had just enough to drink to allow herself to admire how pretty he was. But only just. That was a dangerous line to tiptoe along, she knew that much. It was her easy weakness for him that led her to texting him as she arrived at the club, hoping to see him before she headed off for her conference the next day, and it was her easy weakness for him that had her body lighting up at his casual touch.

“As if I could refuse an invite from you. The boys didn’t take much convincing to come out either,” Brock said, huffing out a laugh against her neck, pressing a soft kiss to the skin.

Good to know. It was enough to erase the tension in her body for now, anyway.

“You should come home with me tonight,” he added, the gentle murmur into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

She luxuriated in it, grinding against him a little, earning the moan she loved. “Like I wasn’t a sure thing.”

“I never want to assume,” he said.

“What?” she asked, frowning over her shoulder at him.

Brock just smiled at her, making her frown a little harder. She didn’t understand him, or his actions. Malia turned around in his arms, sliding her arms up around his neck as he slid a thigh between her legs, so she could look up at his beautiful face, trying to figure out what was going on in his head.

"I didn't think I'd see you until you got back from your work trip anyway," he said, “So this is a bonus.”

Malia shrugged. “I wanted to see you before I left.”

What? It was true. She knew things were swirling in her heart, dangerous forbidden feelings, and she wanted to take as much as she could before everything fell apart. Because her life wasn’t a movie or a fairytale – she knew what was coming. All she could hope was to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

"One for the road?" Brock asked, smirking slightly.

And there it was. Still oblivious to everything that he did to her. But Malia just laughed softly, ducking her head. "Yeah, something like that.”

Brock grinned.

She lost herself in the motion of his body, letting the bass beat of the music flow through her, moving with a freedom that Brock matched easily. It felt so easy, so natural, so right, and took every last ounce of her self-control to not let it consume her. It was perfect, so perfect, and she was already dreading the day when she couldn’t have it anymore. When she could no longer feel his touch anymore. But that day had not yet come, and she wasn’t going to let her defeated thoughts ruin what was going to be an amazing night. No, she was going to enjoy the way his arms were wrapped around her, how his thighs were pressed between hers, how his body moved in sync with her own, and nothing was going to stop that.

After a while, who knows how long, but long enough for her thighs to ache and her mouth to be dry, Brock stepped away from Malia lightly, threading one hand with hers as he tilted his head away from the dancefloor and raised an invisible glass to his mouth, the universal unspoken sign for drinks? She bit her lip, not really wanting this moment on the dancefloor to end, but eventually nodded, earning a bright smile from Brock that made her stomach fill with useless butterflies. Brock, as always seemed to be completely oblivious to the effect he had on her, just leading Malia through the dancefloor crowd without another word. In turn, she followed him wordlessly, letting her stupid heart guide her motions, until they reached the bar area and Brock made a soft sound of surprise.

“I thought you’d already left,” a dry voice said, “Looks like I owe Quinn $20.”

“Hey bud! We were just on the dancefloor,” Brock said cheerfully, “Better pay up!”

Brock dropped her hand to bro-hug the guy standing at one of the small standing tables near the bar, leaving her standing there a little awkwardly until Brock let go of his friend and tucked her into his side with an arm over her shoulder. It almost felt a little possessive…but why? He’d never acted like that before?

“So you must be Malia.”

She took one look at the guy standing next to her and smiled slightly. White blonde hair, thin yet strangely pretty face, European accent. Swedish? Yes, it had to be Elias. Or Petey, as Brock’s prior tipsy ramblings had told her over the past few months.

“And you must be Petey,” Malia smiled back at him.

The man in question just smiled, tilting his head in acknowledgement. So very different from Brock…and yet that soft solid friendship was obvious in their body language. Huh. It was nice to see in person, to be honest.

“Petey, be nice to Malia while I get us a round of drinks?” Brock teased.

“I am always nice,” Elias said shortly, making Malia grin, “Buy me a shot.”

Malia just laughed at Brock’s fond face, nodding when he raised an eyebrow at her in a silent question. She could handle another shot or two before she lost her self-restraint, she knew that much. Brock wasted no time in striding over to the bar, stepping in between people to get the bartender’s attention with an ease only he could pull off. But Malia made the mistake of letting her gaze linger on Brock’s enigmatic figure, that smile that makes her knees weak, lingering long enough that she heard Elias sigh beside her.

“What?” she frowned.

“I hate to say it, but Brock is a bit of an idiot sometimes,” Elias said simply.

What?

“We’re just friends,” Malia said, a little hesitantly.

Without being able to stop herself, her eyes flicked back over to Brock, getting caught yet again on his bright smile. Elias followed her eyeline and rolled his eyes.

“Just friends?” he mused, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright, so there are some great benefits with our friendship,” she added, unable to stop a smile spreading across her lips as she turned her attention back to him.

Elias smirked a little back but soon shook his head, making her frown slightly.

“Are you sure that’s all it is?” he pushed.

What was he doing? Why was he trying to insinuate that there was anything more going on?

“We agreed no strings,” she eventually said.

“Uh huh,” Elias said simply.

Dick. Now she knew why Brock was fond of him.

“If he wanted more, he would’ve said it by now,” Malia added, narrowing her eyes.

“Maybe. Or he’s just so happy he’s getting laid regularly that he doesn’t even think that more could be a possibility,” Elias said dryly.

What?

“You’re kidding,” Malia said incredulously.

Like, seriously, what?

Elias huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I wish I was. Brock might be a soft romantic kind of guy, but he is a complete dumbass at the best of times, and I say that with love.”

She blew out a slow breath, mind still rolling at the revelation. Was it possible? Could Brock really not have even considered it, considered something more between them?

“Three shots each, let’s go!”

Brock’s cheerful announcement broke Malia out of her thoughts, and she just stayed silent as she reached for a shot glass, ignoring Elias’s eyes burning into her as she drank her first shot. What the fuck just happened. Why would he…what was he even gaining by telling her any of that? There wasn’t even any proof that he was telling the truth, right? And surely, if any of it was true, Brock would’ve said something, right? She would’ve been able to tell, right?

Surely Brock couldn’t be that much of a dumbass, right?

“Another?” Elias asked, cutting through her thoughts.

Malia smiled sharply, lifting a glass in salute, downing it in unison with him, Brock finishing only just behind them.

“Oh man, I regret these shots already,” Brock groaned.

“You ordered them,” Elias snorted, rolling his eyes fondly.

Malia shrugged, silently agreeing with Elias, offering Brock a soft smile that brightened his face up in response. He really was so sweet, wasn’t he?

“Some friends you are,” Brock grumbled, his grin betraying his lack of real annoyance.

Friends. Hah. His words cut into Malia like a sharp knife, reminding her of what the situation really was, but she just kept that smile on her face anyway. She ignored Elias rolling his eyes before taking his third shot, and relaxed into Brock’s body as he slid his arm around her waist. She could enjoy it for a little longer, right?

As time floated by, more people joined them and some drifted away again, Malia stayed tucked into Brock’s side, having that third shot as well as another vodka lime soda, just talking with him as well as to the small group around them. It was…nice. But it was also something that they never did, mixing with others before heading out to hook up, so it left her a little unsettled, even more so with Elias’s words.

Eventually, Brock cleared his throat and pressed a kiss to her cheek to get her attention.

“Ready to get out of here?” Brock murmured into her ear.

Against her better judgement, and the raised eyebrow of Elias, she smiled and nodded, earning a sweet smile from Brock in return. He wasted no time in collecting their jackets, keeping his arm around her waist even in the uber back to her apartment, all the way until he pressed her bare body into her bed.

After, when their bodies were glistening with sweat and her bedsheets were a mess, Malia felt herself sighing as Brock nuzzled at her neck, his scruff leaving a delicious blazing trail over her sensitive skin, no traitorous thoughts filling her head at all.

“Mm, down boy,” she murmured, smiling as he huffed out a laugh and lifted his head up to look at her.

“I know you’ve got an early flight, so I’ll get out of your hair,” Brock said sweetly.

Malia just stayed silent as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder before getting out of bed. That cold feeling, that emptiness, immediately came rushing back and she felt sick for realising that Elias was right – Brock was completely oblivious to how he was acting. Oblivious to how she felt. But then again…maybe he really didn’t want anything more. She had no actual proof that Brock was interested in anything other than the no strings agreement they’d set, despite Elias insisting on his lack of awareness. No, she was so stupid to let herself hope. Why was she bothering to ruin a good thing?

“I’ll see you when you’re back?” Brock asked hopefully.

She forced a smile onto her face, trying to make it as genuine as possible. “Yeah, of course.”

Brock’s smile stretched into a grin, and he left her apartment without another word. Malia took a deep breath, trying to ignore how shaky it was, before shaking her head firmly. This was getting stupid. Friends with benefits, that’s what they agreed. Nothing more, no strings. Brock didn’t want anything more than that, and she had to find a way to get back to that too. It meant nothing.

She tried to ignore the way her heart clenched at that.

*

Conferences were not Malia’s favourite pastime - she would happily and openly admit that. All the networking and speeches and plastering a smile onto her face had left her exhausted, and it was only the first day. Thankfully, she’d been able to escape after the dinner that had been organised, and she’d wasted no time in hopping into a quick shower, easing the knots in her shoulders and the tension that her high-ponytail had left on her scalp. Only two more days and then she could go home. She could handle that, right? Staying away from the comfort of her own home, living out of a suitcase, no - she didn’t know how Brock did it every other week. 

And then her phone started ringing.

Brock.

It was as if he was reading her mind. Hah. As if.

“Hey handsome, I was just thinking about you,” she said teasingly.

“Well that’s what I like to hear. So…how is the conference?”

Malia huffed out a laugh, shaking her head, her damp hair falling over her shoulders. “Are you really calling me to ask how my conference is going?” she mused.

“Busted. I thought it could be fun, you know, to…”

He trailed off, as if embarrassed, and she could almost picture him rubbing his neck like he always did when he felt anxious. It was just another endearing thing about him, to add to that long list that tortured her on a daily basis.

“To what, Brock?” she teased.

“Phone sex?”

She didn’t even have the energy to laugh at his blurting, her jaw dropping slightly instead. They had never done that before. Not on his roadtrips, not on nights when they weren’t at each other’s apartments. What changed? Why was he instigating it all of a sudden?

“Mal?”

Malia shook her head, breaking out of her thoughts. That was dangerous territory. “So I just got out of the shower…what are you wearing?” she grinned.

It felt like no time at all until she was crying out his name, her back arching off the bed. When her heart had calmed down from racing, when Brock’s breathing was no longer ragged panting, she found herself smiling, taking the call off speakerphone to hold her phone back to her ear again. Fuck. That was so good. Of course it was good, it was Brock, but damn.

“We both agree that phone sex was a good idea, right?”

She laughed at Brock’s words, stretching her legs luxuriously across the hotel bed sheets.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll give you this one,” she mused.

“I never realised how easy friends with benefits could be.”

And just like that, her heart froze. Fuck. Why did that simple phrase make an icy wave wash over her, when it was true? It was all their situation was, she knew that – and this more than anything proved to her that Elias was wrong.

So why did it make her ache like nothing ever had before? What was she even thinking?

“Yeah. Friends. So easy,” she murmured.

“Mal?”

No, it was not the right time. She was just away from home, that was all. The change in location was just messing with her head. She couldn’t afford to mess this up any further than it already was.

“Nothing, nothing. I’d better go – I need to get my beauty sleep before heading to the conference tomorrow morning,” she said, as cheerfully as she could.

“Ah yeah of course, I won’t keep you then.”

Malia bit her bottom lip, squeezing her eyes tight, trying to calm her traitorous heart.

“I miss you.”

Oh fuck. What was wrong with him? Why did he think that was okay to say?

“Yeah me too. See you soon,” she said softly.

Before any more damage could be done, Malia ended the call, tossing her phone to the foot of her bed as tears stung at her eyes. That was not friends with benefits, no matter how good it was to hear. That was more, and she knew that Brock didn’t mean it like that. So as good as the phone sex was, knowing how it felt to still be brought to dizzying heights of pleasure by Brock despite not even being in the same state as him? Knowing she’d get that kind of reaction from him? No, she couldn’t do it – not to herself, and not to him. She had to be stronger than that, for both of their sakes.

*

Two weeks. That’s all the time that Malia managed to stay away from Brock after her conference ended before she finally answered a text of his with something other than ‘sorry I’m working late’. And yes, some of those times she had been working - but definitely not most of them. She didn’t just miss his body; sure, those big strong arms and broad shoulders and fantastic cock and delicious abs were always highlights of her week. No, she missed everything else too – the way those arms would hold her, close and tight and warm, the way he would run his hand through his hair when he was nervous or sheepish about something, sweet and sensitive and self-aware, and the way his smile would make her heart skip a beat. Oh her heart, it had ached for him in the two weeks she had desperately tried to hold back, that much was sure. Stupid, traitorous heart. At the end of the day, it was the way her heart ached worse without him than with him that made up her mind.

So she’d answered his text, agreeing to go over to his apartment, and within 5 minutes of her stepping through his front door, she was naked in his bed. It was easy to lose herself in his kisses, the touch of his hands, the way he filled her so perfectly, and she lost herself over and over and over again, completely consumed by the fire ignited between them. It was everything and yet she had to remind herself that it was nothing. Nothing at all to him. As the empty ache started to fill her chest while their sweat cooled on their bodies, Malia found herself at a loss for words, desperate not to say goodbye but not wanting to break her own heart even further.

And then Brock had insisted on her staying, and that they should order in some takeout.

In the afterglow, she’d agreed, but as she sat on the sofa in a pair of his sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt , and he poured her a second glass of wine (they’d both had the first glass of wine with the Italian food he’d ordered for dinner), she couldn’t help but feel like something was different. They’d never done that before – lingered, stayed around, ate dinner together. Certainly not with his gorgeous dogs Coolie and Milo sitting at the other end of the L-shaped sofa. It was intimate and sweet and romantic – and they’d never done that before.

Never.

As he sat down next to her on the sofa, glass in hand, it was all she could do to take a deep drink of her wine to steady herself, his smile sweet but shy almost. Shy? It was a little unnerving, if she was being honest, but with the hesitation and anxiety clear in his expression, his body language, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything – because it looked like he wanted to. And who was she to deny him expressing himself?

But he stayed silent, taking his own mouthful of wine, and it only set her more on edge. What was going on? Why was he acting so differently?

“Mal, I just-”

He cut himself off with a sigh, making her smile softly at his obvious frustration, until he roughly put his wine glass down on the coffee table, his hand flexing. Seriously, what was going on?

“What’s going through that head of yours, Brock Boeser?” she mused, trying to lighten the tension rolling off his body in waves, “You know you can tell me anything.”

It took a beat or two until Brock looked into her eyes properly, a wry smile on his face. “I think I’d rather just show you.”

And with that, he took her glass from her hand too, putting it down next to his.

The kiss was expected, but the warmth wasn't.

It's not that their kisses were always desperate or heated or even rough, though they often were, but it was different, just like the whole evening had been. It was different in how he cupped her jaw, his other hand resting softly on her waist, holding her closely against him. He kissed her softly, sweetly, gently coaxing her mouth open so he could deepen the kiss, tilted her head so he could slide his tongue against hers, sending sparks down her spine. They’d kissed hundreds and hundreds of times, over the months of whatever-the-hell their relationship was, but their bodies were charged with something else.

There was no denying it.

Something was different with Brock and it was freaking her out and she couldn’t handle it.

She broke the kiss and closed her eyes, overwhelmed and trying not to show it. Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt both his hands rest hesitantly on her shoulders. What had started all those months before as a care-free confident flirtation, an easy friends-with-benefits agreement to blow off steam, had digressed into this swirling mess of anxiety and hesitant emotions, and Malia didn’t know where to go from there. How was she supposed to move forward? Everything was falling apart and she couldn’t control the downward spiral in the slightest. It wasn’t fair.

"Look at me, Mal. Please?” he murmured.

It took her a moment, a few desperately needed seconds, but she eventually opened her eyes, his concerned face filling her vision. Even the dogs were sitting upright, looking at her with tilted heads, only making her feel worse.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, voice soft and gentle.

“Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine,” she said, shaking her head rapidly.

Liar.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, “You’re 10 seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack and you think I can’t tell when you’re not yourself? You’re my friend, Mal, come on.”

My friend. There was the kicker, wasn’t it? He’d never been able to tell how she felt about anything before, so why would that have changed?

Malia stayed silent, desperately trying to think of something to say at the same time as trying to hold herself together, and she was failing on both fronts. How had her steady control failed her? How had it all fallen apart so quickly? Because everything had fallen apart, there was no denying it; her hands were shaking, her eyes were pricking with tears, and her heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces.

She loved him. She loved him with everything she had, and there was no denying it anymore. Because she had him in her bed, in her life, and she didn't want to lose that just because her stupid feelings would make things awkward. They went into this arrangement as strangers to become friends with benefits, with no strings tying them to each other and no expectations, yet here she was, her heart acting like a complete traitor. But what could she do? Brock pulled back slightly to look down at her, and she knew something was showing in her face because his frown deepened.

"Malia..." he said quietly, looking at her like he knew.

But how could he know? There was no way.

"I'm fine, it's nothing," she said again.

But there was no pretending that it wasn’t a lie this time. She wasn't willing to lose him, she knew that much, even if it meant pretending everything was normal, that it wasn’t tearing her heart into shreds every time he smiled at her with such affection.

"I know this doesn't mean anything,” she added, her voice cracking slightly.

This doesn’t mean anything. Fuck, there it was. In that simple little statement, she betrayed everything, didn’t she? Fuck that stupid voice crack told him everything he needed to know about how she felt and she felt sick.

"Mal," he says softly, again, making her heart throb.

How many more times could he say her name and break her heart just that little bit more? But without saying anything else, his hands slid up from her shoulders to rest gently on the sides of her throat, his thumbs brushing her cheekbones.

"This does mean something," he murmured.

What?

He kissed her softly before she could question him, head swirling and body weak and it felt like all she could do was burst. What did he mean? Surely he couldn’t mean…what? His lips were still brushing hers when he added, "This means everything."

The tears stinging at her eyes started to trickle down her cheeks, and she just shook her head as Brock made a soft sad noise, thumb ineffectively brushing a tear away.

“Don’t do this to me,” she whispered.

“Do what?” he asked, confused.

Make her feel like she had a chance.

Tear apart the fragile strings holding her feelings together.

Break her heart even more.

“Give me hope,” she eventually said.

Brock made another sad noise, and this time he shook his head. “I swear, Mal, baby, I mean it. I’ve been so stupid, not realising what I was doing to you.”

Fuck, no. Not that. That’s the last thing she wanted.

“Don’t say it just because you think I want to hear it,” she hissed, knocking his hands away to dry her cheeks herself.

His lips parted in shock, just briefly, as he seemed to process her words. But then his eyes went wide and he held his hands up in protest, shaking his head again. “I swear, it’s not that. I would never do that. I never thought that we could have more than just buddies. I mean it, I didn’t even think. But now that I know I could have more with you? That you would want that with me?”

Brock trailed off, eyes wide as he blew out a slow breath, but his words held all the implication she needed. Was it real? It wasn’t a dream, right? Something about to turn into a horrible nightmare?

“Brock…” she murmured, a little helplessly.

“Please tell me I’m not too late?” he asked, “Mal, please?”

The desperate tone in his voice, paired with the earnest look in his eyes finished her off. He meant it. He really meant it. But why had he never shown this before? What changed? Why now? She needed to know, or it would drive her crazy.

“Why now? Why after all this time?” she asked, trying to keep her composure.

Brock’s cheeks flushed deeply then, piquing her interest. What? She raised an eyebrow, making him grimace slightly.

“Okay, so, I might have had my ass kicked a little by Petey. Verbally, that is. I knew something was wrong but he basically laid into me when I was confused why you sounded sad at the end of our phone call during your work conference trip.”

Well, shit. That’d do it, the meddling asshole. Affectionately called so, of course, but still. She’d have to send him at least a fruit basket, she knew that much.

He’s just so happy he’s getting laid regularly that he doesn’t even think that more could be a possibility. That’s what Elias had said that night, wasn’t it? After all the time she’d spent convincing herself that Elias had no idea what he was talking about…he’d been right the whole time? Brock really had been that much of a dumbass, not seeing what was happily in front of him?

Malia could help the laugh that bubbled out of her throat, shaking her head at his ridiculousness. “Oh Brock, seriously?”

He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, before he shrugged. “He pointed out some things to me. Possibilities. Opportunities that I’d missed. Options that I didn’t know existed because I was living in this happy little bubble and I had no idea how much I was hurting you. I know I’ve been a dumbass. I just didn’t realise it until it was almost too late.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” Malia admitted, although she knew how pathetic that sounded.

Because it was a bit pathetic, as honest as she was being. Short of a massive messy situation that left her with no choice, she would have clung on until she was reduced to just scraps of dignity. She hadn’t realised how strong his power was over her until it was too late. That was how badly he affected her. That was how much of a hold he had on her heart.

“That’s not good enough. You deserve better than that,” Brock said firmly.

He really meant that, didn’t he? Had he finally clued in? Was he finally ready to give her his whole heart, like he had hers?

“Is that so?” she said lightly, trying to keep her cool.

The sappy smile that Brock sent her way, made all of her final defences melt away. This man was a weapon – if he only knew how dangerous he really could be, she dreaded to think how much trouble she could be in. Or maybe that was just him – sweet, soft, genuine, and a little bit dumb. But it wasn’t like she didn’t have a type; Brock fit it like a glove.

“Let me make it up to you? Let me show you how much I don’t want us to be just friends with benefits anymore?” he murmured.

Fuck.

Malia was already convinced of how she felt, she knew that. She didn’t need anything fancy, not dinners or flowers or jewellery, or anything if she was being honest. Just knowing that he felt for her like she felt for him was enough. She didn’t need it…but maybe he did. That alone was enough for her to nod in agreement.

“Yeah, okay. Impress me, Brock Boeser,” she said, grinning.

Brock just grinned back at her, making her shiver with all the possibilities.

#my writing #brock boeser fic #fwb to lovers #brock boeser fanfic #brock boeser x oc #brock boeser imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #hwn cloud

[dripkingpetey]

untitled-b.boeser

a/n:i will most likely disappear for weeks after i post this like every time but i just wanted to say i hope you guys enjoy this! (in my opinion this fic is kinda weird and sucks?? but i think i will always feel that way about everything i do lol) 

lowercase intended (i have no idea why i wrote it like that😐)

brock x oc 

2127 words

stella turned her attention away from her book when she saw her phone light up in the corner of her eye, showing that brock had messaged her.

meet me at my dock in 10? 

hmm i don’t know, do i want to?

stell you’re so difficult, just come to the dock please. 

i promise you won’t regret it.

be there in ten😊 

ps.you’re so easy to annoy, mr.sensitive

brock couldn’t help but grin when he saw stella walking down the dock towards him. even though she was in sweatpants and a tank top with her hair pulled up into a bun, he still thought she was the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. 

“woah do you have gifts for me?” stella said sarcastically when she saw a to-go coffee cup and an extra UND hockey hoodie on brocks lap, accompanied by some fluffy blankets. “told you you wouldn’t regret it, though i am considering not giving these to you because of the comment you made.” stella raised her eyebrows at his words before realizing what he meant, she quickly apologized for her sarcastic comment and sat down on brocks lap, his arm snaking around her waist like a glove. 

“can you just not go to college?” she mumbled quietly into his chest, running her fingers through his blonde hair as the two of them admired the moon reflecting off of the lake. 

“i wish i didn’t have to leave either stell, but we’ll still talk lots and see each other all the time.” stella smiled at the nickname brock has always called her, no one else is allowed to call her that, and brock made sure everyone knew. “yeah i guess.” she frowned at him before taking another sip of her now slightly colder coffee. 

brock couldn’t help but admire how beautiful stella looked, and before he knew it, he was kissing her. it was a soft and slow kiss, the slowest kiss ever probably, but the both of them had been dying to do it for as long as they could remember. neither of them said anything as they pulled away, exchanging a smile before she put her head back on his chest.

and that was four years ago, now brock’s in vancouver, with the canucks and having a great nhl career. and where’s stella? living in a small apartment in seattle, two and a half hours away from brock, missing him even after four years. they only occasionally talk now, those occasions being birthdays, maybe even christmas sometimes but that’s about it. 

she was in so, so much pain. but she could never bring herself to talk about it with anyone, she has very few friends here in seattle anyways. all she does is go to coffee shops, writes in her blog (which is doing surprisingly successful and allowing her to make a living off of it), go for walks in nature, and goes home and spends time by herself. all she wanted to do was talk to brock, hug him one last time, and maybe even kiss him again.

when stella saw that seattle was getting an nhl team, a spark of excitement happened in her brain. “what if i run into brock here?” 

brock knew that stella lived in seattle, he was just always too much of a coward to ask her to hangout or even text her a “how are you doing?”. and stella on the other hand didn’t want to be a bother, she didn’t want to mess with brocks life and possibly mess up how well brock was doing in his career. that’s how much stella means to him.

the day brock feared but looked forward to the most finally came, going to an away game in seattle. even though he had no idea where stella lived or what parts of the city she’s in, he had the feeling he’d run into her, there was no way life was gonna keep them apart. 

brock wanted to walk around the city during their day off before the game, he stumbled upon this coffee shop in downtown seattle, a couple minutes away from his hotel. but little did he know, it was stellas favourite coffee shop to write at, and she was sitting inside, grabbing her coffee and sitting up at the barstools by the window.

brock got his coffee and scanned around the coffee shop, finding the only empty spot to be next to a familiar blonde head but was interrupted by his thoughts when a teenage boy came up to him, asking if he was brock boeser, to which stella heard and froze completely. her heart literally felt like it dropped into her stomach, no, not even her stomach. it had dropped from her body entirely and sunk into the ground, making a giant hole and out into space. she was panicking, she wanted to get up, and run out of the coffee shop as fast as she could. but she couldn’t, it was like someone had glued her to her seat.

all those years that stella spent crying in her bedroom, watching old videos and looking at pictures of them together, wishing she could go back in time and make it all work out, screaming at herself on why she never reached out to brock is all coming to an end. cause she had to face him this time.

not long after, she felt someone sit next to her, she tried so hard to ignore it and not look over but she did eventually, just a little bit so he couldn’t see her face. but it was brock, the same brock she used to stare at for hours while laying with him, just a little bit older, and definitely more mature.

stella contemplated on what to do, should she say nothing? should she say hi? should she get mad at him about not texting her for the past four years?

brock on the other hand was also freaking out, wondering what he had done, wondering if she knew he was here, wondering if he had done the right thing, wondering if he should’ve just walked out.

after all these years, stella still couldn’t do it, she still couldn’t face brock. she started packing her things up, leaving her book behind on purpose, with a glimpse of hope that brock would chase after her and return the book, telling her how much he’s missed her and asking to be back in her life again, like a perfect romantic movie. 

but that wasn’t the case, brock watched her leave, just like how stella watched brock leave their hometown four years ago. all brock wanted to do was talk to stella, but he just couldn’t and he didn’t know why.

and all stella wanted to do was talk to brock, but she just couldn’t bring herself to it. but now stella is two blocks away from the coffee shop, her music slowly getting louder by her panicking and pressing the volume up button on her phone, as her tears start to fill up her eyes and flow out uncontrollably. 

while brock stayed sitting in his seat, bottling up all his emotions knowing this is gonna affect the rest of his day, probably even his week.

“woah, what happened to mr.sensitive over here?” elias joked as he walked into him and brocks hotel room, revealing a sad-looking brock who was sitting on the edge of his bed with his face in his hands. “i saw- never mind, i don't want to talk about it petey.” brock mumbled before looking up at elias. “how about me, you, and a couple of the guys go to a bar and get rid of whatever this is?” elias said and pointed at brock when he emphasized “this”. 

“yeah sure, whatever.” brock sighed as he stood up. “let’s go see who wants to go out.”

surprisingly, most of the young guys on the team said yes, so all of them went for an adventure in the city, trying to find their new bar to visit whenever they are in seattle. everyone had finally settled in their spots and everyone had their drink, nils and elias were talking about some swedish thing like they always are, quinn and jack watching football on one of the tv’s, the rest of the guys talking about something brock couldn’t even bring himself to pay attention to, all he did was sit there, stare at his drink, and tried not to drink it all at once. 

“hey what about that girl over at the bar? go talk to her.” elias pointed to a blonde girl at the bar and raised his eyebrows in excitement trying to get brock to look over. and to his surprise, it was that same blonde head he couldn’t help but stare at in the coffee shop earlier cause he knew exactly who it was. “oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” brock whispered under his breath and drank his glass of whiskey in one big sip. “here we go.” 

brock sat down right next to stella, who was at the bar to attempt to drink all of her sadness away. brock couldn’t speak, at all, and when he’d attempt to say something words wouldn’t even come out of his mouth, he couldn’t even make a noise. stella hid her face behind her hands and snuck a look at brock, she wasn’t expecting him though, her heart started racing again. but she knew that something had to happen this time. 

“stell,” was the first word brock finally forced out of him. but it also had to be stella’s nickname that was only allowed to be used by brock, and she knew, but she didn’t know what to do. there were three things she wanted to do right now, bolt out of this bar and down the street as fast as she could, hug brock and cry into his arms without saying anything, or pretend like nothing ever happened between the two of them and try to be friends again. she chose the second. 

stella looked at brock and immediately threw her arms around him for the tightest hug she’s ever given anyone, and brock gave her the tightest hug he’s ever given anyone as well. meanwhile, there was a very confused group of nhl players, watching one of their closest friends hugging a random girl at the bar who they thought was a stranger. “what the actual fuck is going on quinn.” elias whispered, furrowing his eyebrows together.

“holy fucking shit i missed you.” brock mumbled with his mouth on top of her head before giving her a kiss on it. “me too, we have so much to talk about.” stella said which was muffled by the sweatshirt brock was wearing but brock could still hear. “can we talk somewhere else?” brock asked, not wanting his teammates to see any more of this interaction. “yeah but i don’t wanna let go.” stella said looking up at brock, still hugging each other tightly. “i’m never letting you out of my life, not again.” brock said while smiling at stella. 

all these years they spent missing each other, was finally coming to an end. maybe stella would finally be happy again, maybe brocks hockey playing would be at his best again. all they knew is that they had each other this time, even if their conversation doesn’t work out, there’s no way they’re giving up. 

the two of them ended up going over to stellas apartment, they couldn’t stop apologizing to each other about not reaching out but they quickly forgave each other. they were now sitting on the couch in the living room, cuddling like how they always would. they were like two puzzle pieces, not only did their bodies fit perfectly side by side, they complimented eachothers best parts, and covered up the bad parts.

“hey,” stella said quietly, looking up at brock who responded with a “hmm?”. “i’m sorry about the coffee shop earlier.” stella let out a small laugh at the end of her sentence, brock did as well. “it’s okay,” he smiled. “i have your book by the way, but i’m keeping it.” brock smirked, watching stella give him an annoyed look. “don’t worry, i’ll buy you another copy if you want.” he cut her off as soon as stella opened her mouth. “fine.” stella mouthed, before giving brock a quick peck on his jawline. that was one of the things brock missed most. he squeezed her just a bit tighter for a couple seconds, nuzzling his face into her neck and breathing in her scent. nothing could get him to leave her right now, or maybe even ever again.

#brock boeser #brock boeser x oc #brock boeser fic #vancouver canucks #canucks #nhl canucks #canucks fic #fanfic #nhl fic #nhl

[bunbunbl0gs]

Luke dating a rock star 🎸

masterlist

nhl masterlist

join my tag list here :)

tag list ; @ivy-34

#luke hughes #hughes brothers #dawson mercer #njd #jack hughes #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes 43 #luke hughes smut #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes x y/n #jack hughes x reader #nj devils #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #qh43 #canucks hockey #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x reader #brock boeser #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes smut

[toasttt11]

five times quinn knew

One.

March 28, 2020

Carter answered the FaceTime from Quinn smiling at her phone waiting for the call to connect from Michigan to Sweden.

“Hi Quinny.” Carter smiled at her big brother, sitting on the couch in her common room in Sweden.

“Hey Cart.” Quinn smiled softly at his sister, feeling weird to be home with his family and without her, “How has your day been?” Quinn yawned slightly having just woke up and wanting to call his sister before anyone else wakes up and interrupts him, and Sweden is six hours ahead of Michigan.

“Good, I just got back from our practices so i have the rest of the day off.” Carter smiled telling Quinn about her morning having got back from her hockey practice a little bit ago.

Quinn heard a door open and saw Carter’s head snap up away from the camera and saw her smile, a smile he has never seen before.

“Is that?” Carter happily grinned seeing Connor holding something in his hands.

Connor laughed and handed her a smoothie, “Thought you would want one.” Connor soflty smiled at his teammate who has became one of his best friends the last few weeks, he saw she was on call with her brother and quietly excused himself knowing she missed her brothers.

“Was that Connor?” Quinn questioned rasing an eyebrow at the screen, thinking about how Carter just acted.

Carter snapped out of something and looked down at the screen, “Yeah.” Carter nodded happily sipping on her smoothie.

Quinn smiled softly seeing his baby sister have her first crush and he has a feeling she hasn’t even realized it yet.

Two.

April 13, 2021

Connor frowned as he watched Carter play the game even though she had been very sick the last two days, throwing up often but Connor also knew how much Carter wanted to play in the game as it’s important game if they want to play if the playoffs this season.

The Regina Pats did end up winning the game securing their spot in the playoffs. Carter also had to throw up multiple times during the game and Connor was seriously worried as Carter has barely ate anything that last two days and had been throwing up so much.

Connor helped Carter into her apartment and walked her to her bed, Carter slowly laid down and Connor covered her up and tucked her in, “I’ll be right back okay.” Connor brushed a hair off her face before grabbing the bucket and setting it next to her.

“Okay.” Carter quietly croaked out feeling miserable.

Connor opened Carter’s phone pulling up Quinny🩵 and hitting the call button.

Connor heard the call accept and Quinn’s voice come through, “Hey Cart, i saw you guys won, good job!” Quinn smiled as he was laying down on his couch.

Connor cleared his throat nervously, “Hey uh it’s Connor.”

“Connor? Where’s Carter?” Quinn sat up hearing Connor.

“Carters in bed but she’s sick, really sick. She’s been throwing up the lays two days and can’t keep anything down, She shouldn’t have played tonight and i couldn’t stop her. And she’s not getting any better and i have no idea how to help her and she doesn’t want anyone knowing and-“ Connor rushed out all those words breathing heavily, he felt his hand shake anxiously.

“Woah buddy, take a deep breath okay.” Quinn soflty spoke to Connor, even though he is nervous for Carter, Quinn was getting up and starting to quickly pack a bag, “Try to get more liquids in her and i’ll be there in a few hours okay.”

“Okay.” Connor took a deep breath slowly nodding, feeling a bit better because of Quinn.

“And Connor thank you.” Quinn couldn’t help but softly smile seeing how worried Connor was for Carter and how Connor is taking care of his baby sister.

Three.

September 10, 2022

Quinn walked in the kitchen in the morning hearing Carter in the kitchen already and saw her blushing and smiling as she held a big bouquet of flowers and Quinn could tell they were her favorite type of flowers.

“Who are those from?” Quinn teasingly smirked knowing exactly who they were from.

“Connor.” Carter sheepishly told her brother with a smile.

“They are very pretty.” Quinn nodded at his sister with a smile.

“Aren’t they!” Carter happily smiled giggling as she looked at her flowers.

Quinn could feel his heart softened seeing Carter so happy about something, it’s not often she gets so happy about something and it reminded him of the days when she was a kid and would be that happy when anyone in the family would play hockey with her and it made him happy that there are still things that can make Carter that happy.

Quinn knew that nothing in the world makes Carter more happy than Connor does and that’s all Quinn could ask for.

Four.

October 22, 2022

Carter happily smiled as she quickly got out of her gear earning a few looks because they had just lost and she never looks this excited, Carter showered quickly and put on her outfit back on and rushed out of the locker room seeing Connor waiting outside the locker room, She smiled happily walking over to him getting pulled into a tightly hug.

“Hi.” Carter happily spoke to her best friend, resting her head againt his chest and relaxing being in the arms of her bestfriend.

“Hi.” Connor grinned, Connor being home for a few days and Carter invited him to her game and to stay over with her for the night.

“Baby Hughes have a boyfriend?” Brock asked Quinn as they walked out of the locker room, seeing Carter with a guy.

“Not yet,” Quinn fondly shook his head, “He is her best friend they use to play together.”

Brock nodded in understanding and say his goodbyes to Quinn and ruffled Carter’s hair as he walked by her to his girlfriend.

“Brock!” Carter groaned and Connor chuckled slightly.

Quinn walked over to the two and Connor smiled seeing Quinn, Quinn pulled Connor into a hug and smiled at him.

The three headed to the car and Quinn drove them back to his apartment.

Quinn knew the two missed each other so he had no problem seeing them head to Carter room to spend time alone. Quinn just headed to his room and started reading his book in bed.

Carter let Connor get changed into comfortable clothes in her bathroom as she changed into his sweats and Luke’s hoodie.

Carter hopped into her bed quickly turning on her heated blanket waiting for Connor to come out of the bathroom.

Connor came out of the bathroom and quickly got into the bed next to Carter and Carter cuddled up to him. Connor and Carter started taking about everything they had missed over the last few months.

Quinn closed his book ready to go sleep and paused hearing the giggles coming from Carter’s room and fondly smiled glad to hear her laugh a lot again. Quinn having noticed Carter had been sad lately and knew she was missing her best friend. Quinn smiled glad Connor is her best friend and is waiting until they finally get together.

Five.

April 15, 2023

Connor had finished his last season at the Regina Pats and had come home for the few weeks before everything for the Drafy starts, he saw Carter’s last home game and had spent a lot of time with Carter.

Carter staying in Vancouver for a little while before Jack and Luke are done with the playoffs and they head to Michigan and getting to spend time with Connor.

Connor was peacefully laying his head in Carter’s lap as she brushed her fingers through his hair as she read out loud.

Connor always loving listening to Carter read and had asked Carter once before to read to him and now it’s something they do often and they both enjoy.

Quinn walked into the apartment hearing Carter read out loud and paused knowing Carter absolutely hates reading out loud and use to hate having to in school, he remembered she would practice with him the night before she had to read in class. Quinn quietly walked into the living seeing Carter reading to Connor and couldn’t help but smile seeing how much Connor doesn’t even realize how much an effect he has on Carter.

#carterhughesau #carter hughes x connor bedard #ch86 #connor bedard blurb #connor bedard imagine #connor bedard x oc #connor bedard #vancouver canucks #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #nico hischier x oc #thatcher demko #nico hischier #jack hughes x oc #luke hughes x oc #quinn hughes x oc #cole mcward #elias pettersson #brock boeser #dawson mercer #tyler toffoli #jh86 #cb98 #chicago blackhawks #nick foligno

[equallyshaw]

ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ: ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ꜱᴜʀᴘʀɪꜱᴇ - Qᴜɪɴɴ ʜᴜɢʜᴇꜱ

and just like that, we are on the last day of holidays with equallyshaw

for those that have been here from the first to this one...ily guys

without further ado, happy holidays- i hope you all have a wonderful day with loved ones. and i also send extra love to those who could not spend christmas with loved ones for any reason. i see you and am going through the same thing🫶🏻🎄

word count: 1.3K

warnings: none!

ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟʟʏ, ᴅᴀɪꜱʏ ᴀɴᴅ Qᴜɪɴɴ were not meant to spend new years together. the two had decided for daisy to stay in boston where she is from, and spend time with her family. daisy though, didn't want to spend it without. it would have been their first new years out of the three previous ones that they'd spend not together. quinn seemed content the last time they finalized their plans for the holidays, but daisy was not content with them.

❅

daisy had been a ball of nerves all day. from the moment she woke up, the moment she got through tsa, the moment she picked up a coffee from the airport cafe and the minute she sat down in her airplane seat. she had turned off her location so quinn couldn't see where she was. they were texting back and forth after she boarded and then she heard the worst news possible, they were being delayed an hour. which meant by the looks of it- she would not be getting there until 9 pm. she texted bella brock's gf, letting her know her arrival time might be pushed back. and bella being the best, had no issue with that. she would make it work. she put her phone on silent, and pulled out her book to read.

she was in for a travel day.

❅

it was 9:15 pm when bella hugged her good friend, daisy. "oh my god i thought i was never getting out of there!" she exasperated as she flung her carry on suitcase and bag in the back, and hopped in the front. "i was worried you weren't." bella said putting her car in drive. "all that matters is that you got here safe and sound." she hummed pulling out of the airport pickup area. daisy nodded, "are we heading to your apartment?" she asked to confirm and bella nodded. "yeah, brock just left for dinner with the boys. i said that i would meet him there later since he knows about you already. but im so excited for q!" she said clapping her hands together. daisy blushed, "me too." she hummed responding to a picture quinn sent of his outfit to confirm that it looked good.

"quinn was being super mopey knowing that you weren't gonna be here this year.." bella let out, as they stopped at a light. daisy frowned, "well its a good thing im here." she hummed locking her phone. "he really said that he was fine with you not being here?" she questioned, as she began to drive again. daisy nodded, "yeah, he said that he was fine with it. he knows how much I've missed my family with starting work here in vancouver, and because of that i haven't been able to travel this season so far. i had a feeling he was putting on a front when we spoke about the plans a few weeks back." she explained and bella nodded. "yeah, im glad you're here. he was sad last night when brock asked about you. it was even more harder i assume because his parents went to jersey." bella concluded. "oh yeah, that was not a fun conversation to listen to when his mom said they'd be going to jersey again.." daisy sighed. "he puts on a brave face but when he could he definitely spoke his mind. i felt bad already leaving and then ellen told him last minute they weren't coming up and had me searching for new years flights day and night." daisy explained. "that's makes me so sad." bella frowned, to which daisy echoed.

❅

it was around 11 by the time daisy had finished her hair and makeup, which was simple and natural looking. just the way quinn adored it. she felt tingly with butterflies fluttering within her, as she smoothed down her pink strapless dress. "listen girlfriend...damn you look hot!" bella said knocking on the door before walking into he guest bathroom. daisy blushed, "he's not gonna be able to let go of you tonight. trust." bella said making daisy do a twirl for her. "lets get going but first we need to do a shot!" bella exclaimed, pulling her downstairs and into the kitchen of the townhouse. "alright alright." daisy smiled taking the shot of tequila and throwing it down. "damn never gets easier." she said after chewing the lime. "oo." bella echoed that sentiment, as she saw the uber notification go off. "brock sent us an uber, lets get going!" bella said throwing on her jacket with daisy throwing on her's as well.

the two hopped into the uber, and they were on there way to the private and upscale bar the boys had rented a private room in. daisy's leg bounced up and down, and bella took a quick snapchat for brock tagging it with "cargo has been secured". "im so nervous." daisy said and bella smiled, "my mom always says that if you still get butterflies or nerves before seeing the person you love no matter how long you've been apart, that that is something to hold on too. its a good thing. quinn is going to just about die." bella smiled trying to comfort her good friend. daisy nodded, and soon enough they were pulling up to the bar.

❅

the two gave their coats to the hostess who then took the two over to the private group. daisy walked behind bella who was texting brock that they were about to walk in. he texted back saying that quinn was in the corner with a few of the single guys. brock greeted them at the door, and daisy gave him a big hug. "thankyou for keeping him company." she hummed and brock smiled, "ofcourse!" he beamed. elias saw daisy from across the room and grinned and threw two thumbs up to her, which she mimicked. she waved to some of the wags who caught on to what was happening and they all smiled widely.

a zach bryan song was playing on the stereo, and once she caught sight of quinn in the corner, her heart just burst. he looked to be having a good time but seemed quite reserved. brock pushed daisy in front of him, and gave her a bit of a push to get going. she gave him a fake glare, before walking the rest of the way. the guys next to quinn face's lit up once they saw daisy, and then smiled and grinned toward quinn.

quinn was confused when the three guys he was with were grinning or smiling at him, like they knew something he didn't. he looked towards his left, and just stared at the girl who was supposed to be in Boston. his mouth was agape trying to process the situation, and she could only giggle in response.

"wait what?" he asked looking around and seeing the team watching him, before he stood up and wrapped his arms around daisy. daisy felt a sense of relief once his arms wrapped around her.

she'd caught him off guard, she'd gotten him good.

"oh my god - youre here?" he asked pulling away a bit to embrace her, and she only nodded in response. "couldn't ring in the new year without q!" she smiled before he pulled her in for a kiss. which made the guys and wags erupt with cheers. they pulled away, as somebody pushed a drink into daisys hand. "how'd you get here?" he asked, and she pointed to brock and bella. quinn smiled at brock who smiled back, and then he looked back down at daisy.

he wrapped his arms around her again, not believing that she was here.

"youre never letting me leave again, i assume? heard you've been miserable without me." she teased, and he shook his head. "never again. not a chance." he mused before pulling her in for another kiss. he pulled away after a few seconds, "wait! who said i was miserable?" causing daisy to giggle loudly.

and there you go folks!! hope you guys enjoyed this series (:

tags: @cuttergauthier @jackhues @toasttt11 @jayda12 @dancerbailey3

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks #brock boeser #holidays with equallyshaw #equallyshaw masterlist #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl blurb #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey blurb

[gravestrain]

we don't have to talk about it; b. boeser

Well I wasn't sure if this would be done in time, but it is and it is probably the most proud I have ever been of a piece of writing I've made. I did not get a perfect bingo but I chose trade angst, friends to lovers, playlists as a love language, "it's always going to be you," and summer romance. This is some sickly sweet soulmates fluff accompanied by some sickly sweet playlists. There is a bit of NSFW mentions towards the begin but no actual smut. For this reason, 18+ readers only please ☺️

Happy birthday sweet Demi @wyattjohnston! 💖 I am so lucky to be in this community with you and wanted to write you something in return for all you do for our community of hockeyblr writers.

I want to preface this by saying that this is probably a slightly unrealistic version of Brock, and that is okay. This is a work of fiction. Do I think Brock listens to boygenius? Definitely not. But for the sake of this story, he would. As always, I did some research for this fic and so the programs at both UND and UBC that Harper completes are real programs/degrees!

Also; this is the inspiration picture I had for Harper's tattoo (photo from Pinterest). If it isn't clear in the story, I imagine Harper to have a lot of tattoos. I imagine her having a lot of small tattoos all over her body. Additionally, I tried my best to give Harper no other physical descriptors other than her having tattoos, so you all have the freedom to imagine her in any way that you possibly could want to, which I think is a beautiful thing. She/her pronouns are used. 2.6k words plus 3 small playlists ☺️

~~~~~~~

"We don't have to talk about it," Harper whispered to Brock as she slipped out from under his arm, the warm covers forcefully removed from his body. Brock shuddered at the implications of that.

His best friend. His lifeline, his biggest supporter. Somehow, he had ended up in bed with her, swollen lips and hair astray. He wondered if it meant absolutely everything to her, the way it did to him. He wondered if she would lay up for days, trying to forget the way her lips felt on his, the smell of her hair, the curl of her fingers around his.

"He's just lost," Harper told her best friend Amelie that weekend over cocktails. She was convinced that Amelie's eyes were going to pop out of her head when Harper whispered to her that she had ended up in bed with her childhood best friend. "Harper, I don't know how you can say that. It's your best friend, for Christ's sake. This isn't just anybody. Everyone in Vancouver is dying to get where you just were." Amelie ranted to Harper, trying to relay the implications of what the two of them had done. "Things between you two may never be the same." She exasperated and Harper rolled her eyes.

"Please, he is just overwhelmed. He feels very out of his element with the trade rumors and just wanted some safety and normalcy. It's not like it was romantic. Trust me, there was no aftercare or lit candles or rose petals." Harper sighed dramatically and Amelie tried to pretend like she believed her. Meanwhile, Harper tried to forget what it felt like when his fingers ghosted through her hair afterwards, when he brought her water and wiped her down gently. She tried to forget the way her heart beat out her chest at the way he held her afterwards. That she had to force him to let her go. Amelie shook her head and sipped her cocktail, wondering if Harper was foolish enough to think that she believed her.

Brock was avoiding Harper. That much was obvious. It would be more obvious if Harper wasn't doing the same thing to Brock. It had been a week since they slept together with no contact, probably the longest since their only real fight in freshman year of college when Brock left for an out of town game without saying bye to Harper. If Harper had known better when she slipped into bed after too many cocktails that night with Amelie, she would have stopped herself from opening one of her biggest secrets.

Harper had been making monthly playlists of Brock for as long as she could remember. In her Spotify, they go back to 2018. She thinks it was from the only time in their life when they were separated, when Harper was finishing her degree at UND and Brock was playing across the continent in Vancouver. It was a piece of her that she had always loved to do. It felt like a sacred part of their friendship, despite Brock knowing nothing about it.

If the amaretto sours weren't fogging her brain over, she would've done a double take at sending Brock her playlist titled "Brock: May 2023." But she didn't. She just sent it.

Brock was in bed, trying to fall asleep for the night when his ringtone for Harper went off. He shot up in bed, the reality of not talking to her for a week setting in. He scrambled for his phone, and found the playlist attached with a simple message: "I miss you." He was sure that she was out drinking with Amelie, just like they did one Saturday every month. With no judgement, he remembered that she had already gone out for their get together this month, but that was the last thing on his mind as he clicked on the playlist.

The playlist had a cover, just as all of hers did. A picture of Brock smiling wide after a game that he remembered her taking at the beginning of the month. He knew the ignoring was mutual, but his heart started to sink when he thought of just how much it could have been affecting her.

"I miss you more," he replied back without even clicking on the playlist. When he did, he found out that he didn't recognize many of the songs, but they would soon become the soundtrack to the rest of May for him. The dark screen of Spotify glared up at him, the tracks listed:

cool about it by boygenius

Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers

Radio by Lana Del Rey

Cornelia Street by Taylor Swift

Labyrinth by Taylor Swift

I saw you in a dream by the Japanese House

Brock simply pressed play on the playlist and let it hum him to sleep, his heart constricting at the way that the songs related to them and how they made him feel.

~~~

Harper knew Brock like the back of her hand. She knew what made him smile and what made him front. She knew what made him feel proud and what bruised his ego. Naturally, she knew what kind of music he would like to listen to. And she knew that Brock had probably never willingly turned on a song from any of the artists that were featured on the May playlist. But she knew him. And she knew what he needed to hear.

So when he sent her a picture of the lyric "you know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back, just like that" from Labyrinth by Taylor Swift, she didn't flinch when she soon saw the caption that went with it: "how do you know exactly what I need to hear. I don't think I've ever related to a lyric more." She smiled at their affinity for each other. She was however surprised, when a Spotify link of his own came through.

Titled: Harper, May 2023.

not strong enough by boygenius

Cleopatra by the Lumineers

End of Beginning by Djo

Don't Give Up on Me by Zach Bryan

The Archer by Taylor Swift

"I see I've inspired a bit of your music taste," Harper responded with a cheeky smile. She was certain that he had never heard a boygenius song before she sent him one. "You see right through me," he responded back cheekily, her cheeks burning. Harper stared at the playlist in awe when she realized that he was in fact referring to The Archer. Before she could even think twice about it, she was drafting an email to her tattoo artist about getting the tattoo for "The Archer" that she had been wanting for months.

It seemed that a week after that conversation, with few in between, that Brock was also doing things before he could think twice about them. When he had started the trek home from his night out with the guys, they all did a double take when he asked Quinn to drop him at Harper's. He hadn't told anyone besides Petey about their sleeping together, but they could all tell that something was going on between the two childhood best friends.

"Are you sure that's a good idea bud?" Elias asked, clapping his hand on his best friend's shoulder. He knew the status of the friendship at that point and he could also recognize that Brock was beyond intoxicated. "Yeah, we're good now. Just a blip. She's expecting me." He smiled his most convincing smile at Elias and he seemed to fall for it. "Alright bud, well if she throws you out screaming give me or Quinner a call and we can take you back to your place?" He offered and Brock nodded, his feet carrying him quickly towards the door. At this point, Brock was eagerly trying to make his way to his best friend who he hadn't seen in weeks. It had now been almost three weeks since they had seen each other. Brock was soon to be heading home to Minnesota, and Harper would soon be following him. He would wait until the school year was over so he could help Harper pack up and move back home.

It was never Harper's plan to follow Brock to Vancouver, but once she followed him to UND, it seemed inevitable. It became glaringly obvious that the two of them could simply not live without each other. When Harper graduated with her bachelors in Communication Sciences and Disorders, she had already been accepted into the University of British Columbia's Masters program for Audiology and Speech Sciences. After two years in this program, Harper graduated, and got her dream job as a speech pathologist in a high school not far from her apartment.

When she first let Brock know of her plans, he was living with a teammate. He insisted that he could get out of the lease and that he wanted to live with her so that she wasn't by herself. Harper had already found another girl in the same program study as her that she would live in a nicer apartment with. She was lucky that she never had to worry about money. Both of her parents had good paying jobs, and they always supported her choice to be with Brock in Vancouver, seeing as Harper's mom's best friend is Brock's mom.

Brock made the familiar descent up to the 4th floor to Harper's apartment, typing in the code and letting himself in. It was just past 1. Harper liked to stay up late, and her roommate Carmen had gone back home to Edmonton for the summer, meaning he knew he was okay sneaking in this late.

"Harps?" He called out, heading towards her bedroom. He slowly opened the door and found her laying on her side in her bed. Her bedside lamp was still on, letting him know that she had just dozed off and hadn't actually fallen asleep for the night. Brock's eyes furrowed in on the angry red skin that lined the obviously new tattoo that she was sporting on the back of her left upper arm. A bow and arrow, with ivy detailing now adorned her arm. Small cursive words were also laced within the bow. Brock couldn't make them out from where he was standing, but he didn't have to to know that they were something from the Taylor Swift song. His heart constricted at the mere thought of that, that something that they had shared amongst each other was now permanently on her body. It would be with her for the rest of her life.

As the soft pads of his fingertips reached out to touch it, Harper shot awake, startled by the sudden touch. "Just me, honey," he rasped out. "You scared the shit out of me," she gasped, rolling over to face him but careful not to put too much pressure on the new ink she was sporting. "What are you doing here?" She mumbled, eyes squinting to adjust to the lamp light.

"I can't do this anymore," he sighed as he sat on the end of her bed. "I love you, Harper. And I want everyone to know it. I want you to know it." He confessed. Her eyes widened, sitting up to move towards him. "You're drunk." She muttered, not making eye contact with him. She knew how this would end. She had imagined it so many times, a scenario where she was able to be with her best friend, as she had wanted for so long. But they all ended the same way all of her past relationships ended: heartbreak, agony, trauma.

"I am, but I know I love you more than I could ever begin to express. You are the center of my world. Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved." His hands were now holding her own, his soft eyes pleading with hers as he reached out to touch her palm. "It's always going to be you, Harper. In every universe. Just tell me you love me and everything will be okay." His blue eyes stared into her own with more passion than she could ever comprehend. Tears welled up in her eyes, and all she could think to do was lean in and kiss Brock with all the love she had had for him since she was 16 years old.

Now at 26, as she held onto him, his steady heartbeat anchoring her to sleep under her ear, she wondered if it could have always been so easy, to love her best friend whole heartedly, and that he would love her the exact same way back. When she felt his fingertips brushing her shoulders gently, a soft hum of "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac coming from his lips, a late addition to her "Brock: May 2023" playlist, she realized she was wrong all along. Being with Brock would never lead her to heartbreak, agony, and trauma. It was Brock. Her Brock. Gentle, warm, soft as a blanket Brock. When he wrapped his arms around her, and she finally felt her lips on his once again, she realized her doubts were always just that: doubts. And with a sweep of his thumb across her cheek, they both pulled back, looking at each other and wondering if they'd feel happiness like this forever.

_____

3 months later

"You guys are absolutely disgusting," Quinn grumbled in fake agony at Brock and Harper who were cuddled up on the couch outside on the patio, watching the sunset at Brock's family lake house. "At least you don't have to share a wall with them!" Petey groaned, causing Brock to shove his shoulder. "You two should just be happy that you don't have to share a room anymore." He tried to deflect but it only caused more bickering from the two, finger pointing about who snored louder and how last summer Quinn took one too many turns sleeping on the bed and Petey had to sleep on the floor an extra night.

Harper snuggled deeper into Brock's shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent. She pulled the blanket up to puddle around her hips: Brock always ran warm, and she always ran cold, so the blanket never came anywhere near him. She reached up to brush a small piece of hair out of Brock's face as she chucked and Elias and Quinn's antics. There was nothing like enjoying the lake with Brock and their loved ones.

Of course she had spent countless days here with Brock. Many people had come through the front door and experienced the magic of the Boeser family lake house and all the memories and warmth that comes with it. But there was truly nothing like this feeling of warmth, joy, the feeling of home. She wondered if she would ever be as happy as she is in this current moment, this current summer.

When she looked up at the man next to her, the man of her dreams, she knew she would always be that happy. He was mid sentence when she couldn't resist the burning urge to kiss her lover on the cheek, leaning up to snuggle into his neck, her cold hands reaching under his sweatshirt, causing him to shiver.

"Could you guys be any more disgustingly cute? Makes me sick," Quinn muttered, taking a sip of his beer. "Yes," the two of them muttered simultaneously. Quinn and Elias just laughed, shaking their hands at the response. They knew the answer, and it wasn't that they really minded. They loved Harper and loved that Brock was happy and not embarrassingly pining after his best friend anymore.

Harper began humming along with "Sad Songs for Sad People" by Megan Moroney, one of her favorites for the month. Now that they were dating, the playlists were still made monthly, which some slight changes. They were now titled "Brock and Harper" with the month and year accompanying it, their two profile pictures snuggled up next to each other at the top. The cover photos were now pictures of the perfect couple.

At this point it was Brock who couldn't resist placing a soft kiss on his lover's lips. As they cuddled together, they both knew that they could never replicate the first summer at the lake as an official couple, but as long as they were together, the happiness, the magic, the joy of that first summer would last forever.

Brock and Harper, August 2023

Sad Songs for Sad People by Megan Moroney

All of the Girls You Loved Before by Taylor Swift

Grapejuice by Harry Styles

Golden Hour by Kacey Musgraves

Since We're Alone by Niall Horan

Lady May by Tyler Childers

Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift

I Hate Love Songs by Kelsea Ballerini

Bad for Business by Sabrina Carpenter

Starting Over by Chris Stapleton

#Demi's birthday bingo #brock boeser #brock boeser x fem oc #brock boeser imagine #vancouver canucks #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #vancouver Canucks imagine #fem oc

[comphy-and-cozy]

Note: I try to tag triggers as bet I can, but ultimately you as the reader are responsible for your own media consumption. If any of my content bothers you, please do not continue reading. If I am missing a tag, please feel free to shoot me a message. * = smut (18+ ONLY)! players I do not write for | tv/movie masterlist

ANDREI SVECHNIKOV - full masterlist here

BRADY SKJEI

Adore You (Brady Skjei x POC fem!OC) - 8.3K Freshly shipped from New York, Brady is new to the city of Raleigh and the Carolina Hurricanes. While he’s learning the city, he meets someone that just might change his life forever. Four times Brady thought he loved her, and one time he actually did.

The After Party* (Andrei Svechnikov x Reader x Brady Skjei) - 6.3K When your new fling Andrei invites you to his joint birthday party, you’re surprised to learn that it’s a past flame who shares his birthday. And surely a double birthday calls for a double celebration — even if that means that you are the gift. The After Party II* (Andrei Svechnikov x Reader x Brady Skjei) - 6.3K A year after your illicit tryst with your current fling and your ex-fling, you meet again.

Blurbs ✿Midnight Rain* ✿Picnic in the Park

BROCK BOESER

You Got What I Need (Brock Boeser x Reader) - 5.5K When Brock says something horrible in the midst of an argument, you take off and leave him alone to face the consequences of his actions. Will he be able to win you back, or are you gone forever? Chronicling the aftermath of a fight, featuring big brother Anders Lee.

Blurbs ✿A Jealous Distraction ✿Secrets ✿"Send. Pic. Of. Dog. Now."

CHRIS KREIDER

✿“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” ✿"I'm pregnant." ✿"Why would I stop when it gets me what I want?"*

CONNOR MCDAVID

Work For It* (Connor McDavid x Reader) - 4.2K After a road trip, Connor is determined to show you how much he missed you, but only if you work for it.

GABE LANDESKOG

✿Date Night at the Drive-In* ✿Blood Drive ✿Mystery Machine

JEREMY SWAYMAN

Blurbs ✿"Don't mind me, just enjoying the view." / "I won't bite, unless you're into that sort of thing."

JT COMPHER - full masterlist here

MAT BARZAL

Love It If We Made It* (Mat Barzal x OFC) - 9.3K Aurora Foster and Mat Barzal are friends. Sometimes with benefits, sometimes with unspoken feelings, but always with a little something extra. When they have the opportunity to close the cross-country gap between them, will they be able to overcome the skinny love and take their relationship to the next level?

MATT MARTIN

Chaptered Fics/Series Sugar Daddy Marty Masterlist (Matt Martin x sugar baby!Reader)

MIKKO RANTANEN

Bad for Business* (Mikko Rantanen x Reader) - 4.2K Mikko has a crush on his massage therapist.

Bad for Business II* (Mikko Rantanen x Reader) - 2.5K Mikko learns to accept that his teammates are your clients, too.

MITCH MARNER

✿“My friends get annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes”

NOLAN PATRICK

✿“There is no way this much stupid can fit inside one person.” / “Take my jacket, it’s cold” ✿Cheek kisses

TYSON JOST

Third Time’s the Charm* (Tyson Jost x plus sized!Reader) - 11.1K Tyson Jost has been your best friend since you were kids. After a drunken hookup, you thought you’d lost him forever - that is, until he gets traded to the Minnesota Wild, conveniently the city in which you now reside. Will the former flame return when you reunite, or has the time changed everything forever?

A Night in Paris* (JT Compher x Reader x Tyson Jost) - 10.6K Anything can happen on a Friday night at the Hard Deck. When you run into some old friends in search of a night to remember, you just might end up getting exactly what you wished for. Blurbs ✿“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” / “You’re pretty.” “You’re drunk.” ✿Wedding Day ✿Jost Family Reunion ✿Disaster Strikes ✿Trade Angst ✿"It feels like torture but I don't want it to stop."* ✿Pre-Wedding Festivities

#hockey #masterlist #divider by @firefly-graphics

[wyattjohnston]

welcome to a winter (& loosely holiday) themed series of fics. i have been working on these fics since august, and there have been more changes to this series than i would have liked.

these 9 fics in 1 month are my gift to you all for reading my fics and hanging around 💚

fics with an (x) link at the end have OCs with pre-existing stories. all other OCs are brand new.

all fics will be posted at 9am UTC -5 (NYC time) on the day shown and represent the final (sometimes only) date of the fic.

3 December

it’s golden - anthony beauvillier & maggie fisch (x)

4 December

never saw you coming - ryan graves & isla darkott

7 December

been a long time coming - elias pettersson & joanie bachman

13 December

your eyes look like coming home - jamie oleksiak & devon abbott

17 December

i'm all about you - brock boeser & annie horvat (x)

24 December

friday night beneath the stars - kevin hayes & sofia lakeland (x)

25 December

everything that we should be - jack hughes & daisy holston (x)

28 December

remember how it was back then - jeff skinner & melanie chester

2 January

yours for the weekend - nico hischier & stef brunner (x)

i hope this is worth the week long wait after posting this, I know it’s a long time 💚

many special thank yous to @matthewtkachuk @danglesnipecelly @farbutnevergone @lulucanwrite and @hock-ee for letting me talk about these fics and for helping me out when i needed it 💚

#'tis the (damn) season #masterlist #the missing 10th fic was a Raff fic #i thought I could write it but I was lying to myself #potentially the last fics I’m going to post #that might change because I’m still going to be around to watch you guys read the fics so I might have a change of heart #but just as a forewarning I guess

[pcttymcrlecu]

Psssst, it’s me! Your fic exchange writer! I hope you are as excited as I am for your fic! I have a couple quick questions for you so I can get started.

Love the list of players you have! Any chance you could give me a top 3? As a refresher, here is your list of gorgeous men: Andrei Svechnikov, Adrian Kempe, William Nylander, Josh Anderson, Brock Boeser, Pierre-Luc Dubois, Erik Johnson, Anthony Beauvillier, Nico Hischier, Colton Parayko, Mat Barzal, John Marino, Quinn Hughes, Elias Petterson, K'Andre Miller. (Can you see why I need you to narrow it down!? Your taste is excellent.)

Are there any songs or lyrics or quotes you love that you would like to see put into your fic?

If you do Spotify wrapped, what are two songs on there that fit your vibe?

What are the themes that have you kicking your feet? What themes would you be bummed out to receive?

Do you prefer reader-based fics or OC? If so, do you have a name preference?

You will be getting a happy ending! But would you perfect for it to be a full comfort fic, or have some angst to it as well?

hiii!! sorry this is a little late response 🫣 i am super duper excited though!!

I'm going to hide the answers under a read more so as to not bother people!

As a top three, I would probably choose (in no particular order): Andrei Svechnikov (I just adore him more than words can say), I am in my William Nylander era and because John Marino is new to my list this time around, I'll go with him!

Oooh I can definitely offer up some kind of input there but feel free to literally ignore it entirely. I do enjoy the whole vibe of At My Worst by Pink Sweat$ and Kehlani but also love Kodaline's Wherever You Are or these lyrics have recently struck a chord with me recently "I'm not a solider/But I'll fight through our darkest of days/Get on my shoulders/And I'll carry you all of the way" and also "I wanna slow dance in the living room like/We're eighteen at senior prom and grow/Old with someone who makes me feel young"

I don't do Spotify wrapped but I do use apple replay so hopefully that's fine for you as well! For this year: I think my vibe has been either anthemic or angsty so I'll give you one of each ahah - I'm Still Standing by Elton John and Unsteady by X-Ambassadors.

Anything Friends-to-Lovers/Idiots-to-lovers/the whole Requited-Unrequited Love thing gets me giddy all the time. Oh and how could I possibly forget Fake Dating. I'm a true hopeless romantic at heart so honestly if it could fit into the plot of a 90s/early 00s Rom-Com, it'll make my little heart sing. I really dislike miscommunication(in the sense of people not talking to each other - lost in translation/communication is okay). I'm not a big fan of pregancies (I prefer fun aunt/uncle/cousin vibes) but apart from that I'm not going to lie I'm pretty open, so long as it makes sense.

I like both honestly so I'm going to say it's up to you and what you're most comfortable with (I don't want to handcuff you too much) but it you want a firm response just let me know.

If it's 100% a happy ending, I don't mind a little bit of angst thrown in, you know - for character/dynamic development but I also would't be opposed to snuggling up with a cup of cocoa and the most wonderful piece of comfort prose to just destress a little.

I feel like I half answered a lot of your questions but please if anything is unclear and you need more clarification or you just want me to be decisive for once, let me know ☺️

#( m answers. ) #( fic exchange nonnie. )

[brockadoodles]

I’ll be the love of your life inside your head - b. boeser

AN:  hello. Guess I’m back. Just for writing though. So here’s a repost of my fave thing i’ve ever written. :) Check out the sequel after you read this one, Errant Storytelling by @hockeyboysiguess​ 

Pairing: brock boeser x female OC 

Word Count: 38,421

Warnings: LONG AF, swearing, drinking, mentions of sex, some angst. 

Early September was Brock’s favorite time of the year, with the team getting into the swing of training camp in preparation for the new season that was to come, he always felt like it was somewhat of a fresh start. He would return to Vancouver, most of his body tan and his nose slightly burnt from spending everyday back at home out on the lake or driving through the mountains in his Jeep, top down and dogs in tow. He spent most of his summer alone, finding comfort and solace in just him on the water, able to reflect about the various stressors that impacted his life for eight or so months of the year. He had even adopted a second dog, Milo, who had quickly fit right into his routine. 

The change from late summer to early Fall in Vancouver was beautiful, the weather was  comfortably cooling down, but the rain that plagued the city not yet setting in for the long grey season, one that had dubbed Vancouver as “raincouver” to those who lived there. He loved Minnesota, but as he spent more and more time in Vancouver, he quickly found himself settling into west coast habits, easing back into the season and his life there more quickly with each passing year. 

One thing that had become somewhat of a tradition since his rookie season, was a first night back type of gathering, almost always taking place at some dive bar on the edge of East Vancouver, where he and some of the guys could catch up before the real intensity of autumn kicked in. Petey was no doubt his best friend in BC. He was a year younger, coming onto the team the year following Brock’s own rookie one and he found himself taking Elias almost under his wing. When he first came to the team, he barely spoke any English, and while some of the other guys were welcoming, they didn’t quite have the patience to decipher Swedish like Brock did. So, Brock introduced himself and the two instantly clicked on and off the ice. Catching up with Petey after summer was something that he was looking forward to, now that Petey was no longer a rookie and had settled into life in Canada more. 

This September was no different, and Brock found himself sitting in the dark booth in the early evening at the latest dive bar, a place that Jake had sworn by for having the best selection of local brewed beers while he waited on Petey to arrive. The bar was too warm for the sweatshirt and backwards cap he had on even though the establishment itself was rather empty for a Friday night. He supposed that the term dive bar rang true and that this was the quant hole in the wall type place that they usually frequented for their annual return to Vancouver get together. 

He slowly ran his finger along the rim of his beer, it was some local IPA that the waitress had sworn on, a glint in her eye that Brock knew too well, yet actively ignored as he politely ordered the drink, sending her a soft smile to say thank you but imply that he wasn’t interested. He took a sip of the beer, biting his tongue slightly at the sensation of it. He set the cool glass back on the table, sighing softly while he pulled out his phone from his pocket, making note that the beer was hoppy and too bitter for his taste. He slid his fingers across the screen, opening up the unread message from the friend he was waiting for. 

Olive is always late. Be there soon. 

Brock frowned at the text from his friend and set his phone back down on the table. It wasn’t like Petey to be late to anything, in fact for someone who was as young as him, he was incredibly serious about anything he committed his time to. Petey was the type of person to show up ten minutes early and feel like he’s late, having one time nearly chewed Brock out for taking a wrong turn on the highway causing their tardiness at some inconsequential event that he couldn’t even remember the details of at this point. He very vaguely remembered the name Olive, Petey having mentioned something about his new friend he had made over the summer from staying in Vancouver. 

It took a few minutes of Brock tapping his fingers on the dark wood table, contemplating something trivial about his surroundings and the people coming into the bar before he saw Petey’s familiar blonde head of hair walking through the wood door. He looked at his friend and noted that he was slightly tanner than his usual ghostly shade, must have been from the endless amounts of time on the golf course with Chris Tanev, the teams’ unofficial dad for the younger guys. Brock slowly got out of the booth, ready to hug his friend when he saw the girl hanging from Petey’s arm, his breath catching in his throat and his mind blanking on how to properly function aside from standing there looking like a person who has just been read something in a language that they don’t even speak. 

Time felt fleeting as he watched her laugh at something Petey said, and for a moment he internally groaned with what most people would recognize as jealousy because he wanted to be the arm she was hanging from. Brock knew his friend hadn’t been interested in meeting anyone, and for a moment he almost wished he was because then he wouldn’t be physically so impacted by the presence of this girl he had no idea about other than her name being Olive and that she was always late and absolutely gorgeous.

Olive gripped Elias’s arm tighter as they crossed the threshold of the bar they were meeting someone at. She looked around and noted that everything seemed to be made of wood, the decor resembling some cheesy rendition of what people assumed things looked like in the Tudor times in England. Not that she was complaining, because any bar that had a Tudor theme was a bar that she could get along well with, plus Elias had said there was a great selection of IPA’s and a new person for her to meet, so she couldn’t be happier with how she was spending her Friday night. 

Olive was the type of person who most would assume spent her time with her head in her books, romanticizing the world around her. She permanently had her dark hair thrown into some tangled mess on her head, glasses usually residing on the bridge of her nose, and some variation of dark wash ripped jeans and a big knit sweater on. She was simple from a physical standpoint, most often never throwing on more than mascara and her favorite brick red lipstick for a night out. Yet from a philosophical standpoint, Olive was anything but simple. Her brain often worked in overdrive, causing her to need to write lists to herself about everything she needed to do, or thoughts that occurred to her throughout the day. She always kept a notebook in her bag, the same one, a dark navy blue and leather bound notebook with a dot grid on the pages inside, where lists and notes would be unkept and out of order to anyone that would look through its well used pages. It was almost impressive how often she was late, but she was always forgiven for it because she welcomed anyone she met with open arms and a deceitfully open heart. 

Olive spotted who she assumed to be Elias’s friend, Brock, slowly getting up from a dark wooden booth tucked away from the rest of the patrons. Her first thought was that he looked exactly what she imagined someone named Brock to look like, bright blonde hair underneath a backwards snapback, skin golden and a light stubble grazing his face. Something about his presence threw her off though, and she found herself calm as they walked up to him, laughing softly at Petey who cracked a joke about him wearing Birkenstocks to a bar. 

She walked right up to him with a wide smile on her face, sticking her hand out to shake his as Petey introduced them, with no indication that she realized Brock felt his heart lurch toward something that he had never felt the need to gravitate towards before. Olive stood there for a moment, time frozen as Brock slowly took her hand in his for the first time, knowing somewhere in his soul that he needed to know everything there was to know about the girl named after what was not quite a fruit and not quite a vegetable, that he normally didn’t even like in the first place. 

“Oh? IPA guy, huh?” Were the first words that slipped from her crimson red lips, a smirk evident on them. He looked down to the beer in his hand and internally panicked about a response to such a trivial question. Would this girl who he found himself fascinated by ruthlessly judge him for what she might think of as terrible taste in the third most common drink in the world? 

“Oh, yeah, uhm, they’re great.” Brock lied, bringing the far too hoppy tasting beer to his lips, forcing down a convincing enough sip to hope that she wouldn’t catch on to his distaste for the beverage. He didn’t quite understand why Olive approving of his beer choice was something that he felt the need to have, but if she loved IPA’s, he was going to have to get used to the taste. 

Brock was always welcoming to new people, and as he sat there in a booth listening to Olive tell him and Petey about her classes and latest book she was reading, he was patting himself on the back for saying yes to Petey inviting her. Olive was captivating as she animantly spoke about the things that were passions of hers. She talked loudly, and her hands were as equal parts of the conversation as her voice was and Brock was completely and undeniably hooked from the get go. 

Olive bounced up from the table, leaning her body over it so that she could speak to both of them and be heard. The crowd had picked up as the night went on, and now there were quite a few groups of people loudly chatting around them, music also adding to the noise. Brock looked at Olive as she smiled at him, his eyes trailing slightly down her body as she spoke. 

“Another round, boys?” She teased, turning her body quickly to walk off. 

Brock’s eyes involuntarily followed Olive after she excused herself to go grab another round for the table and he was so focussed on her retreating figure that it took Petey four times of saying his name before Brock snapped out of it.

“Oh? What?” Brock said, attempting to save whatever sense of pride he had left, but this was Petey that he was with, and Petey was nothing short of the reigning king of the ability to observe anyone who was around him. He recognized the look in Brock’s eyes, it was how a lot of people looked at Olive when they saw her, and while Petey knew that Brock’s intentions were nothing short of good, he also knew Olive and how she was when it came to relationships. 

“It’s not a good idea, Boes,” he nodded toward the bar, his eyes glancing over to Olive for a moment before returning to Brock. Brock sighed, hating that Petey not only knew him so well, but that he was in the situation to be so infatuated with this girl he hardly knew. Brock just shrugged, looking down at the patterns in the wood on the table while he hoped that his friend would just drop the subject.

“She’s not like you,” Petey continued, and Brock’s head slowly lifted up to question what his friend was trying to say to him.

“She is great, and I care about her a lot, but she isn’t capable of what you want.” Petey shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Brock frowned. Petey narrowed his eyes, contemplating the nicest way to say the next words that would come from his lips before Olive came back to the table.

“She doesn’t know how to give someone her heart, she won’t mean to do it, but she’ll hurt you.” 

Brock didn’t have time to respond, instead he sat there and soaked in Petey’s seemingly harsh words and he questioned if he had misjudged the girl who was now bouncing eagerly back to the table, effortlessly balancing three drinks in her hands. She set them down carefully on the table and nodded as she sat down in the booth, this time settling in right next to Brock. The three of them took sips of the new drinks as conversation continued, but all Brock could find himself focusing on was the sound of her voice and clove-like smell of her perfume as her body shifted closer to him. Those three drinks that they were consuming soon became three more, and then three more after that and so on until somehow Brock and Olive had ended up alone together with his hand on her thigh and her head resting in her hand as she looked up at him with lust in her eyes on the same side of the booth where Elias had left them after some girl had swept him away. 

Petey’s words didn’t matter all that much to Brock as he sat close to Olive and tried to get to know her as much as you could get to know anyone in this type of setting. He could tell that she was smart, and focussed on her studies, something that she was proud of that was another bullet to the list of things he found attractive about her. Her lipstick was slightly smudged as she laughed at a story Brock was telling, distracting him as he thought about leaning in closer and smudging it even more. Each laugh that came from her lips had Brock thinking to himself that the IPA that was so bitter before maybe wasn’t so bad after all. 

“Okay drunkie Ollie, time to get you water.” Brock teased, handing her a bottle of water that he had gotten from the bar. Olive just blinked at him, reaching out to grab the cold bottle from his hands. 

“Ollie?” She asked, tilting her head a bit at the nickname. 

“S’cute, like you.” He shrugged, a small smile on his lips as he watched her take in the words. Brock had been infatuated with Olive all night, to the point where he almost felt slightly annoyed at Petey for never introducing them. The pull between him and her was apparent, so much so that he found himself stealing glances with her all night, hoping that with each one he would see her beautiful crimson red smile that he had been growing so attached to in a matter of hours.

“You’re cute.” Olive said, reaching a hand up to his face, softly tapping her finger on his nose before cheekily pulling his cap off his head, tossing it onto her own. Brock ruffled a hand through his own hair, an attempt to make it less apparent that he had been wearing a hat for the last few hours, but finding no desire within himself to take the accessory back from Olive. Olive took a sip of her water, confidence pouring through her next moves as she rested her hand on his arm, fingers dancing slightly as she leaned into his ear. 

“I mean it, Boes.” She spoke lowly, breath fanning across his neck, so close that her lips almost touched his skin before pulling back, offering nothing but a sly smile as she walked over toward the bar to close her tab for the night as if she hadn’t just pulled his breath from his throat with four simple words. Brock caught her eye once more from across the bar, the flimsy strings that were pulling him toward her were strengthening, and he was finding himself grasping onto what were slowly becoming thick strands of rope between them, hoping that if he just shortened them enough, she could be his. 

Olive frowned when the bartender told her the tab had already been closed and pointed toward Brock when she asked who did it. She muttered a soft thank you and set some cash down on the bar for an extra tip before walking back to the boy in question, mentally flipping between whether or not she should argue with him about this or let it go because the gesture was nice and she could only assume he wasn’t hard pressed for money to pay a $70 bar tab. 

Brock smiled when she walked up to him and threw an arm quickly around her shoulder, mentioning that he had gotten a cab to take her home. She laughed a bit, making some joke about how he must not know what an Uber was being from rural Minnesota, something that he feigned offense to but laughed along with anyway. When the car pulled up, he opened the door for her and let her use his hand as balance while she stepped in. Part of her wanted to invite him in, to take him home with her and satisfy the new feeling from him that she found herself craving. But the last bit of responsibility in her left the words on the tip of her tongue, knowing that it could potentially put Elias in a weird spot if she were to ask him. So instead, she got into the cab alone, settling into her seat as Brock leaned down. 

Olive smiled as Brock leaned against the open door of the taxi, a smirk on his lips and pink from the alcohol they’d both consumed flushing his cheek. She felt a little lost in thought about the boy in front of her and how old fashioned it felt being in a cab when ridesharing was so common in the city. Nonetheless, she steadied her breathing as she tried to focus on anything but Brock’s soft smile that was starting to make her feel like she wanted that smile only for herself. 

Brock handed Olive his phone slowly, ignoring the look of the driver who was growing impatient for their nondescript moment to end. 

“Give me your number so I can make sure you get home safe,” Brock nodded toward Olive. He held the car door nervously under his hand as he analyzed her reaction to his request, hoping that he wasn’t coming across as some sleezy guy trying to take advantage of a girl in a drunken state. He hoped she could see that he genuinely wanted to know she was safe, and that Petey would have likely appreciated that Brock stepped in to make sure his friend got back to her apartment safely. 

Olive smirked, feigning confidence from her next few words as she slowly typed in her phone number, taking a risk with adding an emoji, a simple black heart next to her name. A bold choice wrapped up in such an inconsequential action. She sent herself a text, making sure to have his number as well, and only adding a secret heart of her own to the contact once the door was fully shut and the cab was pulling away from him. 

The promise went forgotten as Olive tumbled into her building that night, a soft thank you escaping her lips as she paid the driver and went into the brick building. She loved this building and had lived here for almost three years in the small studio facing the water. It was old, had a charming history from being built in 1902 and stood in stark contrast to the silver and shiny modern buildings that surrounded her in the city, signs of too much money flooding into the surroundings. She liked the old elevators that looked like the ones from the movie Titanic, the creaking of the wood floors as you walked by, and the design details that made her feel like she was in the Edwardian era. Modern felt cold, and Olive was anything but cold. 

She tossed her keys on the counter and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water before retreating to her bedroom. She slowly started peeling off her clothes from the night out that were starting to smell like one of those cigar smoke filled rooms that old men would go to in the early 1900’s to get away from their wives after supper, whiskey in their glasses and cards in their hands. She thought back to the evening, her mind drifting to a certain blonde that she hadn’t come there with, but who had left with dancing through her mind and she found herself wondering more about him as her eyes fluttered closed.   

Olive couldn’t have been asleep for more than twenty minutes before she heard the soft buzzing on her nightstand, peeling her eyes open to the soft light coming into her room from the phone that was ringing. Brock’s name flashing tauntingly across the screen as she struggled to adjust to the light as she clicked to answer his call.

“Hi.” She groaned, head still foggy from the alcohol and now the lack of sleep.

“Hey, sorry I just wanted to make sure you made it back alright,” Brock said, his voice quiet and not confident in the words he was saying. Olive smiled even though he couldn’t see it, her stomach doing flips as she thought about how no one had ever taken this much effort to make her feel wanted from knowing her in such a short time. The word to describe him immediately floated into her mind. 

“I’m here, Brock.” She responded, rubbing her eyelids softly before continuing.

“Benevolent: well meaning and kindly.” she added, sitting up slightly in her bed and biting her lip for his response. 

“What?” Brock laughed softly, unsure of how to react.

“That’s your word of the day, or night I suppose. You’re benevolent, Brock.” 

Brock took in what Olive had just said to him as he pulled the blanket closer to his chest and his phone nearer to his ear, hoping he had heard her right. Her not so subtle compliment causing redness to flood his cheeks noticeably even in the dark room he was in by himself. He stayed on the phone with Olive for a short while longer, continuing the conversation effortlessly as if they had been two people that knew each other for far more than just a few short hours on a Friday. When he fell asleep, her soft snores were still echoing through his phone against his ear, and he closed his eyes thinking about how he had never smiled more about a word he had just learned. 

--------------

The following weekend, Olive found herself walking down the aisles of the European grocery store with Elias that they both enjoyed so much. The Canucks were about to have a week-long home stretch which meant that at least once that week she would get to veg out with her best friend on his far too expensive couch and marinate in some of her favorite Swedish dishes that Elias liked to make. 

She meandered down the aisle, looking for the familiar packaging of a particular sauce he wanted her to grab. Her hair was messily braided down her back and her denim jacket was far too warm for the temperature of the store. 

“I meant to apologize for leaving you the other night. I know Brock helped you home,” Elias said. Olive jumped at the sound of his voice, bringing a hand to her chest momentarily while she turned to face her friend. 

“Oh it’s alright, speaking of Brock…” she trailed off, her eyes returning to the shelf. She picked up a package of what appeared to be some sort of gravy and started to read it, her eyes scanning over the words in Swedish as if she could even understand them. Elias scowled for a moment, watching his friend tense up at the mention of Brock, a clear indication she was nervous to bring him up. Her cheeks were starting to heat up as she intently focused on the writing he knew she couldn’t read. 

“No.” He shrugged, grabbing the package from her and putting it back on the shelf and replacing it with the correct one that they needed for dinner that night. 

“What? Does he have a girlfriend?” Olive asked, eyes widening slightly when she turned to face Elias. 

“No, but he’s too soft for you. You’ll crush him.” Olive frowned slightly at his words as she processed them. She knew she had trouble when it came to relationships, usually pulling away from the guys she was dating, finding some insignificant flaw in them before they could see all of hers, but she didn’t think she was mean, so to hear Elias imply that she was capable of hurting his friend stung. 

“Elias,” she tried to reason. Elias just sighed, annoyance dripping from his voice at the next few words he spoke.

“It’s not a good match, Olive. I don’t think he can handle all of you. He’d just break and you can’t break my best friend.” 

“Right,” Olive shoved past Elias, hurt written all over her face at his harsh words. Olive didn’t know how to react entirely to what he was saying, and part of her wanted to fight him on it, to argue that she wasn’t capable of hurting someone in that way. But the truth was, she probably had. Everyone is capable of unintentionally breaking someone’s heart, and Elias’s words pierced a hole in her chest. She couldn’t help but feel bad knowing that what someone who she considered as a best friend truly thought about her. 

As she was waiting in the checkout stand with Elias right behind her, her phone lit up with a text from the boy she had asked about just minutes prior.

You busy tomorrow morning? 

Olive glanced over at Elias, making her he couldn’t see over her shoulder to her phone. It was probably partially anger that fueled her reply to Brock, wanting to see him in spite of what Elias had said because maybe she could prove him wrong. But if she were to listen to the flutter in her stomach while reading that text she would have realized that her fingers moved across the keyboard at the command of her heart, which was already nestled lightly in Brock’s awaiting hands, even if neither of them were conscious of it. 

For you? Always free 😚 

She tucked her phone back into her bag and shook her head slightly, a small blush forming on her cheeks as she thought about him. She did her best to keep it at bay the rest of the night with Elias, not bringing him up again and certainly not telling him that she had planned to see Brock the next morning. 

The following day, Olive stood outside of Brock’s building nervously as she waited for him to come downstairs to get her. It was just after 9 in the morning and the chilly air had finally set into the city. She was wearing dark booties and jeans, with an oversized cream sweater tucked slightly into the front of them. Her hair was haphazardly thrown into a messy low bun, with strands framing her face. She felt that she looked casual yet cute enough that it looked like she put in effort. This was her first time seeing Brock since the night they met at the bar and while they had begun a regular stream of texting conversations in the short few weeks since then, she was incredibly nervous to actually spend time with him alone. There was an underlay of flirtation in their messages, and part of her felt guilty for being outside of his condo that morning after what Elias had said to her just the previous day. 

Brock came out the front door, spotting Olive instantly. He almost stopped walking as he took in her appearance, his mind stagnant as he combed through every variation of the word beautiful that he knew to describe her. When she noticed him walking up, she tucked her phone into her small black bag, smiling brightly at him with those same crimson red lips he had been thinking about for weeks now. 

“Hi,” She said as he wrapped an arm around her in greeting. She reacted quickly, snaking both of her arms around Brock’s torso for a moment to reciprocate the hug. 

“Are you okay with walking a bit?” Brock asked. Olive nodded and gestured in front of her, implying that he should lead the way. Brock adjusted the dark beanie on top of his head as they started down the street, Olive walking close enough to him that their arms would gently brush every few steps as the two of them settled into easy conversation for the short walk to where Brock was taking her. 

Olive started noticing more people as they got farther away from Brock’s condo, some with strollers and their kids, others walking their dogs with coffee in their hands. Most of them were carrying reusable bags with fresh produce sticking out. By the third block she realized where they were headed, forgetting that the farmer’s market was in full swing for Fall. She smiled a bit to herself, wondering if Brock was the type to come here alone or if he had just assumed correctly that it was the type of Sunday morning activity that she would enjoy. 

“I didn't peg you as a market kind of guy,” Olive laughed softly as they walked into the market. She stopped for a moment to look at one of the stands they were passing by, her eyes settling on the fresh bouquets of flowers that were arranged beautifully on the tables. The woman behind the stand said a friendly hello to her while telling her about the local nursery they owned, Olive nodding softly as the woman spoke. 

Brock’s eyes watched as hers drifted toward one specific arrangement. He picked it up as Olive chatted with the woman, a man walking over to him from behind the table who Brock could only assume was her husband based on the matching rings on their fingers. He looked over one last time at Olive, making sure that she was still engrossed in conversation as he paid for the bouquet of flowers for her, hoping that it wasn’t going to be crossing any sort of boundary between them. He thought back to what Petey had said to him the night they met as he rationalized that the flowers were simply a reason to hopefully make her smile. 

Olive turned as she finished up the conversation with the woman, stopping as she saw what Brock was holding out for her. She tentatively reached out, grabbing the bouquet of flowers in her hands and blushing slightly. She looked down at the arrangement of sunflowers and wildflowers in her hands, heart beating faster as she thought of something witty to say in the moment to save face from her now red cheeks.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to woo me, Brock Boeser,” She smirked, raising the flowers slightly toward him, a friendly banter in her voice. 

“That depends, Ollie, is it working?” he countered. Olive blushed in response, rolling her eyes slightly to try and keep the rhythm of her heart in check. She was standing on the shore dipping her toes into the water with Brock, all evidence pointing to the need of treading softly, but Olive Burke was never good at wading water, she needed to dive head first and swim. 

She didn’t answer him as the two of them continued to walk through the market, stopping occasionally to look at things, conversation picking back up between them like they didn’t just share what felt like to Olive as a moment of something more than could be described as just friendly. 

“So I have a confession to make,” Brock started as they walked up to the specific destination he had brought her here for in the first place. 

“And what might that be?” She smiled, placing one hand on her hip as the other held the flowers from earlier in the morning. 

“I really only come here for this specific tent,” he smiled, nodding up to the small coffee stand. 

“God, of course,” Olive laughed as they neared the front of the line, her stomach doing backflips at how charming he was without even trying. Of course Brock would only know about a farmers market for bagels and coffee, why should she have expected anything different?

“I actually found it my rookie year, back home there’s this small place near where I grew up. I remember being a kid and my brother, sister and I would always get bagels and hot chocolate on Sunday’s. So, when I was wandering around with Coolie after I adopted him and I found this place, it kind of felt like a comforting piece of home.” Brock recounted the memory to Olive. 

“The chive one is my personal favorite,” he smiled, his words lightening the tone of the conversation. He watched as Olive carefully scanned the menu, her dark eyes reading over each word from behind the glasses he liked her in so much. He felt a bit silly being so enamored by her essentially just standing there looking at a menu, and before he realized the potential consequences of his actions, he slipped his phone from his pocket and took a photo of her hands and the flowers, posting it to his Instagram story with a simple blue heart emoji. 

Brock was surprised at how comfortable he felt around Olive in terms of conversation. In just the short time that they had been here, he found himself sharing small details of his life that usually he wouldn’t have with girls who he hadn’t known very long. But with Olive something felt right. He wasn’t sure if it was because there was that knowledge in the back of his mind that Petey wouldn’t have been such good friends with someone who wasn’t a genuine person, or if it was his heart that was clouding his judgement as he shared almost intimate details of his life with her while they settled down onto a bench with their food. Brock wasn’t sure what all of this was, or if it could become anything despite Petey’s warnings, all he knew was that Olive Burke was fascinating, and he wanted to tumble into knowing all of her. 

They both walked slowly toward her car, nerves bubbling in Olive’s stomach as she wondered what all of this meant. She knew she was already stepping in too deep with Brock, knowingly going against Elias’s request when it came to his friend’s heart. But part of her didn’t care, Brock was calm, soothing, and in one short morning that felt like a better first date than she had ever been on, she wanted more. 

She stood nervously in front of her car, focussing her eyes and hands on the flowers that he had given her. She wasn’t sure where this would all lead, and for the first time she found herself hesitant about saying goodbye to him, her mind racing with questions about her next move. 

“Did you have a good time? Or am I as boring as Petey likely told you I am?” Brock asked, his eyes focusing on her. She looked up at him, his soft smile sending the butterflies that had been running rampant in her stomach into a flurry once again. 

“You’re not boring, Brock. You’re,” she paused, thinking of the word she wanted to say carefully. She smiled at him, matching his expression as she spoke, “amiable: having or displaying a friendly and pleasant manner.” 

Brock breathed a sigh of relief, her word for the day causing his nerves to sky rocket. Olive was on and off paper entirely too good for him, but the slight indication of affection she was showing in a simple word of the day toward him had him reaching out to give her a hug goodbye. Olive reacted quickly, wrapping her arms around him, carefully trying not to squish the flowers. They pulled apart and stuttered out slightly awkward goodbyes as Olive got in her car and watched Brock walk away, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. 

--------------

Brock tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel as he drove to practice a few mornings later, a subtle smile on his lips as the quiet sounds of his playlist echoed in his car. His almost date with Olive was still fresh in his mind. The two of them had spent almost the entire afternoon together, with albeit a somewhat awkward goodbye that was still circling in his mind. It wasn’t too bad though, as his days and nights had been filled with conversation from her, simple texts and late night phone calls as their connection started to grow. 

Brock felt quite literally on cloud nine as he skated out onto the ice, not thinking twice before heading up to Petey to start warming up. 

“Petey!” he called out, skating up to him. Elias turned his body away from Brock, ignoring his friend’s greeting and continuing to work on his shot. 

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t date my friend,” Petey said, shooting a puck harshly toward Jacob and then skating away, leaving Brock slightly out of it as he wound up for his own shot, one that got blocked by Jacob almost effortlessly. He couldn’t understand why his friend was being so cold toward him, he knew that Petey had warned him about Olive not being capable of opening her heart, but Brock was more than willing to accept and take on that risk. He didn’t understand why Petey didn’t seem to consider how he was feeling either. Brock didn’t respond as he skated off toward the bench to follow his friend and confront him about the almost outburst that had just happened on the ice. When he reached the bench, Petey just turned, skating back out and away from him like he was the last person he’d want to associate with. What was really getting to Brock about the entire situation was that he knew Petey was selective about his friends, he knew that he wouldn’t have invited someone who wasn’t genuine into their inner circle, so why was he so bothered by Olive and him being attracted to each other? 

“We’re not dating, petey. What are you even talking about?” Brock groaned, skating over to his friend, this time with Petey remaining in his spot for the next drill. 

“You took her on a date two days ago.” Elias grumbled, not looking Brock in the eye. Brock rolled his eyes slightly at his friend, failing to see what the big deal was when it came to hanging out with Olive.

“It wasn’t a date,” he argued, “How did you even find out about it? Do you have little scouts following her around to make sure she’s not seeing me?” 

Elias shot his head to face Brock, and deep scowl on his features. It was such a contrast to how Brock and Elias normally acted around each other. They were inseparable and never fought over anything serious. So as they stood there on the ice, the tension between them was obvious and their teammates were starting to pick up on it.

“Your Instagram is public and that picture was stupid.” Was all that Elias said before skating off once more, leaving Brock to remember that he did in fact post a photo to his story and maybe in hindsight it wasn’t his best post ever. 

Petey was cold toward Brock for the rest of practice, constantly shuffling the puck away from him in drills, not listening when Brock tried to communicate, so much so that the rest of the team started to notice. It wasn’t normal for Elias and Brock to not get along, and it was starting to hinder the rest of the group’s dynamic. 

Brock positioned himself in front of Jacob as Petey took his spot to start a tip in drill. The first few shots hit Brock’s stick so hard that he could feel the vibrations through his gloves. He was starting to get frustrated with Elias, finding his attitude and reaction to something that shouldn’t have even been a big deal a bit extreme. But if there was anything that he knew about his friend, it was that he could hold a grudge and was most certainly not afraid to show it, the only difference was Brock had never been on the receiving end of it.

Elias lined up at the blue line, slapping a wrist shot toward Brock. He watched as it hit Brock just above his knee. Brock fell to the ground, groaning loudly as he scrambled to get up, Jacob having to come up behind him to help him skate one legged back to the bench. Elias knew it was immature, but part of him didn’t feel entirely that bad for it. He of course wanted Brock to be okay, but he also wanted him to know that he was pissed, and if that realization had to come from a slapshot that Brock missed with his stick, well then that was the price he had to pay.

“You fucking did that on purpose!” Brock yelled as he passed Petey, his leg throbbing in pain as the trainer helped guide him off the ice. He was fuming at this point, Petey’s attitude starting to take its toll on his own, and the wrist shot sending pain shooting down his leg wasn’t helping to calm down the situation. 

“Yeah, well that’s karma for dating my best friend behind my back.” Petey shrugged. JT watched as Brock rolled his eyes at Petey, their little squabble audible for most of the team to hear. He skated up to his linemate, patting him quickly on the shoulder.

“Listen if anyone is gonna date your best friend, Brock isn’t a bad option. You know he’d treat her well. Don’t let this come between you guys.” JT tried to reason as best he could without getting in the middle of whatever was going on. Elias nodded, the words not fully absorbing in a rational way in his mind yet. Olive and Brock were his best friends, and while the idea of them dating was something that he should have been supportive of, he just couldn’t see it ending well and didn’t want either of them to be hurt. So instead of supporting it, he thought asking them not to would be enough to prevent it, but he didn’t know just how deep either of their hearts had already been invested into each other. 

Brock didn’t come back out for the rest of practice. Instead he sat in Petey’s stall with his leg elevated as he waited for the rest of the team to finish. He had an ice pack securely resting on his thigh as he ran through various versions of what he wanted to say to Petey when he came back. 

Elias walked into the dressing room, his eyes narrowing when he saw Brock sitting in his stall. He maneuvered around his friend, passive aggressively ignoring Brock each time he said his name.  

“What’s your fucking deal, Petey?” Brock asked as he sat, unmoving as Petey tried to work around him to hang his gear up in his stall. Elias shook his head as he sat down next to him and started untying his skates while Brock waited for a response. 

“You took her on a date,” Elias mumbled, annoyance clear in his tone. Brock rolled his eyes, wondering how he had even found out about his Sunday with Olive in the first place. 

“Oh my god, Petey. It wasn’t a date. We just hung out together. We literally walked around,” Brock tried to reason with his friend. He didn’t think it was fair that he had to justify spending time with Olive to Petey. If Petey didn’t want them getting along, why did he bring her to dive bar night in the first place? He knew they didn’t have any attraction to each other, Olive was most definitely not a bad person from what he had learned about her so far, so he couldn’t figure out why Elias was so stubborn about it all. Elias didn’t say anything in response as he packed his bag to leave, Brock growing more and more frustrated with his friend. 

“Well am I allowed to be her friend or is that too much for you to process?” Brock scowled, pulling his blue practice jersey over his head as he started getting himself ready to leave. 

“You can be friends, I just think if you date and break up it would mess with the group,” Petey shrugged curtley. Brock could tell that his friend didn’t want to broach the topic anymore, but he also realized that this seemed important to him, and he the last thing he wanted to do was put a girl above one of his best friends. Brock nodded at his friend and finished taking off his gear. When he was fully changed he pulled out his phone, noticing a text from Olive that had him second guessing his decision from just moments prior. 

Cognisant: having or showing knowledge or understanding or realization or perception.

Reminds me of Elias.  

Brock sighed at his phone and locked it, putting it back in his pocket along with Olive’s message. He was frustrated, partially at Elias for being so damn stubborn, but mostly he was frustrated with himself for not wanting to shake Olive from his thoughts. He wasn’t sure what would make him feel better at this point, but running head first into the boards was slowly starting to sound like an appropriate response to the copious amounts of thoughts and scenarios currently skating through his mind, each one a different outcome that disappointed a different person, usually himself.

It was only a few hours after Brock was nearly reprimanded by Petey for showing interest in his friend that Olive was frantically pacing around her living room, pulling her sweater sleeves over her hands as she heard the seemingly endless ring of her phone. She was starting to feel her hands shake each time she heard someone’s voicemail. After a few failed attempts at contacting almost everyone she knew who could provide her any sense of comfort, she opened her contacts and scrolled to the only B name in her phone, not hesitating to press the call button. 

Brock answered after one ring which was something that could not be said about the other people in her life currently. Olive breathed a sigh of relief, feeling her eyes well up with fresh tears when she heard his voice in her ear. 

“Hey, sorry I haven't messaged you back, I was at practice and got caught up. Are you calling to tell me another fancy word?” Brock joked over the phone, smiling softly to himself as he pictured Olive’s concentration face as she read and annotated her latest book, something that he had seen a handful of times since meeting her the previous month. Olive always brought her books with her, scattering them around any table that was in front of her. He knew most of her words for him had struck while she was mid-reading and he found himself infatuated with each one that she sent along to him. 

“I’m sorry I called, I just… my mom wasn’t answering, neither was Elias, and I-,” she cried into the phone, shaking her head slightly in regret for bothering Brock. He was clearly having a good day, based on the tenor of his voice. 

“Olive, you can call me anytime you need, please don’t apologize,” Brock said, his voice steady in Olive’s ear and offering her a sense of reassurance that she wasn’t a bother to him, something she so desperately needed to hear in that moment. 

“My dissertation got rejected, and not just rejected, like, they ripped me apart,” Olive sniffled as she rubbed her temples. She wasn’t sure if Brock even knew what she was talking about, or if he would be able to console her in that moment. All she could think about were the harsh words of her advisor that afternoon telling her that she had to start her entire proposal from scratch, something that had taken her weeks to work through. 

Olive was the type of person to give her everything into her program, she was passionate and opinionated and not afraid to be assertive, so when she tried to do those things in her proposal that she was extremely proud of, she thought her advisors would appreciate the effort. It turns out, they did not appreciate anyone drifting from the classic narratives offered in literature, and she was expected to produce something to get her masters degree that was likely going to be a carbon copy of thousands of other works. She was devastated and didn’t feel like she had anyone to turn to as she waited for Brock to respond. 

“Are you home?” Was not the response that she had expected from the boy on the other end of the line, his voice hesitant and slow as he spoke. She nodded once, wiping her eyes with the stretched out now slightly damp sleeves of her sweater before answering him softly.

“Yeah, I just got here,” Olive whispered, fresh tears falling down her cheeks, hair even messier than it normally was from how much she had fussed with it in frustration. 

“I’ll be right there, okay? Do you want to keep talking while I drive?” He asked. Olive could hear him locking his door, keys slightly clinking together in his hands. 

“Can you tell me about your day, please? I just need to think about something else right now,” she responded. 

Brock launched into a recount of his day, telling her everything from practice, to his walk with the dogs. He didn’t miss any minute details, except for the chunk of practice where Petey had given him a temporary but large bruise, and she found her tears slowly drying up as she laid on her couch listening to him talk. Brock’s voice was soft, calming, and when he laughed telling her about some inconsequential event that had occurred at practice, it was hard for her not to smile. She didn’t realize how calm she had become from just his voice until she heard him saying her name a few times, awakening her from her slight daydream of him.

“Olive?” Brock laughed, he was standing outside of her building, that deep red brick building that he had heard her describe so many times, the ivy that usually adorned it was just vines, leaves having already fallen off for the upcoming winter. 

“Mhm?” She answered. 

“Can you buzz me in?” Olive smiled at his words, getting up to tap on the button that would unlock the door for him. It was only then that she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she set her phone down, waiting for Brock to make the short journey upstairs to her unit. She stepped closer to the mirror, sighing softly at her red cheeks and her dark eyes were still slightly red and watery from the crying. Her sweater was wrinkled and the sleeves were slightly stretched from pulling them to wipe her eyes. The tall socks she was wearing were completely mismatched, one grey and one blue and black striped. Her hair looked more like a birds nest than it usually did, and she knew she didn’t have time to make herself look more presentable before she heard his footsteps in the hallway and three soft knocks on her door. 

As soon as Olive opened the door, Brock pulled her into his arms. He slipped one hand just underneath her sweater, resting at the curve of her back to push her flush against him. His other arm wrapped around her shoulders, bringing his hand to the nape of her neck, holding her in his chest as he pressed a light kiss to her forehead, something that both calmed Olive and made her nervous at the same time. They stood there in the doorway for a moment as Olive wrapped her arms around Brock’s body, steadying herself from the waves that had been crashing into her all day, feeling safe and finally not seasick for the first time being there with him. 

Brock slowly walked forward into Olive’s small apartment as he held her. He could tell by her voice earlier on the phone that she was upset, but when he saw her he knew the extent of what upset to Olive actually meant. He looked around quickly at her apartment, scanning the room and taking in how much it looked like an extension of her. He could see a small wooden table by the kitchen window, books and pens scattered on top of it, a cup of coffee that he assumed was from that morning left behind and cold. She had lots of artwork up, various prints and drawings in simple frames scattered around her walls. Next to the velvet couch, there was a small potted tree that had the faintest white lights on it. He noticed that there were more papers and books on the coffee table, Olive’s signature navy blue notebook resting on top of them, sticky notes sticking from the edges. 

He reached his hands down to Olive’s hips, tapping them gently to guide her to sit on the small island that was in her kitchen. He rested his hands on her thighs, pressing soothing circles into the tops of her soft black leggings, her mismatched sock covered feet dangling from the counter. He looked at her, seeing another side of Olive that he had never been met with before. The Olive that she let him see was loud, always confident in her words and feelings, and who almost always had a smile on her face. The Olive in front of him looked tired, a broken down version of herself, and while she was still the most beautiful person he thought he had ever stood in front of, it reminded him that even the most independent, strong people sometimes fall down too.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Brock asked as he gripped Olive’s thigh a bit tighter. He was trying to show her that he was there, that in this wild, chaotic mess that was clearly storming through her mind, he was the boat that was there to keep her steady and get her back to shore safely. 

Olive shook her head slightly, wrapping her arms around Brock once more. He was wearing a soft dark hoodie and smelled like cinnamon. When she looked down his legs she noticed the slippers on his feet, her heart fluttering steadily at the idea of Brock leaving so quickly to come be with her that all he threw on were his old grandpa slippers. She squeezed his sides softly, pulling back from him to look in his eyes, finding nothing but comfort in them. Brock was standing there and all she could think about was how his presence felt like a Sunday afternoon, when you’ve come home from brunch and wrap yourself in a warm, thick blanket, secure and full, emotions that she didn’t understand why she was feeling for someone who up until recently had just been Elias’s friend Brock to her.  

Olive did her best to plaster on what was left of her to offer him a smile as she fixed the dark rimmed glasses on her nose and looked up at Brock as she held his waist. For a moment she found herself daydreaming again in front of him, admitting to herself that if Brock wanted to lean down and kiss her, she would be a willing participant. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, something that seemed to happen quite often around him, so she hopped off the counter and went toward the stove, distracting herself in a way that would hopefully rid her of the daydreams about Brock.

Brock watched Olive carefully as she wandered through the kitchen, pulling out a pan and various items from her fridge. He noticed that her eyes looked less puffy than they had when he first walked in, and her smile was subtle but slowly coming back to her face as she grabbed a bottle of wine from the shelf and two wine glasses to go with it. She gestured to the glass as she poured and he nodded in confirmation. Brock had never cared for wine, but for her he would take in the notes of the dark liquid, pretending he didn’t think about how the color resembled that of her lips. 

“Assuagement: the feelings that comes when something burdensome is removed or reduced,” Olive spoke as she handed him the glass of wine, raising her own to his glass in a small toast. Brock felt a sense of relief at Olive’s latest word of the day for him, understanding what she was trying to say he had done for her without actually saying it. 

Brock looked at Olive in a way that he had never looked at anyone else before, and in another world maybe he would have been able to act on it without Petey’s stupid rule giving him a guilty conscious over the thoughts he was having about pressing her body against the counter and kissing her. But he knew that even if he could, in this moment where Olive was now dancing in her kitchen, laughter filling his ears while she cooked, he would have been taking advantage. Olive had shown him part of her personality that she kept hidden from most people, sharing a vulnerable side to the pressures she faced every day, and while she was laughing with him now, all he wanted her to know was that he could see her and that he cared about her more than a stolen kiss on a Monday evening would have been. Olive deserved more than that, and even if it killed him, he would wait as long as it took to be right for them. 

Olive fell asleep that night in a wine drunken haze, half curled up on her couch with Brock’s body flush behind her. His hand was running through the ends of her hair that she had finally let down in front of him, easing her of the headache that had accumulated partially from the crying but largely from the wine. She wasn’t sure what time it was when Brock nudged her softly, helping her into bed before he pressed a kiss to her forehead, whispering that he would let her know when he got back home that night and a sticky note on the table by her bed with the words “you’re amazing” written in his terrible handwriting for her to wake up to. In another scenario, she would have been brave enough to ask him to stay.  

--------------

By mid-October, things had started to shift not only in the now cold and constantly cloudy Vancouver weather, but between everyone. Olive and Brock had only drifted closer, their feelings for each other tethering over the edge of too much in late night phone calls from Brock in the hotel hallway to keep from Elias hearing them, both of them knowing that things were progressing toward something more but not having quite enough courage to admit it to each other let alone the obstacle standing in their way, Elias. Olive had tried to maintain as much normalcy with Elias as she could. They still had their Tuesday night hangouts when his game schedule allowed it, and she rarely mentioned her growing friendship with Brock unless Elias brought him up. Everything was clicking into a dangerous place, with secrets developing between friends who never had them to begin with. 

The season had just started, and the schedule had been packed enough that Thanksgiving had come and gone, it now being closer to Halloween. Olive was absolutely horrified when Elias told her what they normally do for Candian Thanksgiving, which was apparently ordering takeout and drinking shitty beer. Thanksgiving was Olive’s favorite holiday and it was astonishing to her that anyone would willingly choose to not celebrate with home cooked food and a $5 bottle of red wine. Although luckily this time Elias had provided the refreshments for the evening, contributing his kitchen as a workspace and six bottles of champagne that likely cost more than her rent. 

But if there was one thing that Olive had insisted since meeting Elias all those months ago, it was that she was going to treat him to a Canadian Thanksgiving, even if it had to take place after the actual holiday. So, she looked at his schedule and nailed down a date and invited herself to use his gorgeous NHL player salary kitchen and made him invite the rest of the guys for an after the fact Thanksgiving. If she was going to educate Elias on the importance of mashed potatoes and roasted turkey, she was going to do it right, making sure that it was from a kitchen that had adequate counter space, for a group of people who could actually eat the amount of food she was making, and to spend some quality time with her growing group of friends. 

Olive tapped her hand impatiently on Elias’s door. It was only 11, but she already was running almost an hour late so she knew Elias should have been up and ready to help her with the preparations. Elias answered the door, his hair slightly messy and his glasses covering his eyes. Olive looked him up and down quickly before folding her hands across her chest.

“You clearly need to wake yourself up, so here’s my keys, go grab the rest of the groceries while I start,” she demanded. Olive brushed past Elias while he groaned softly and put on his slides, grunting as he closed the door behind him while he went toward the garage in his building. He loved Olive, but she was too loud for his mind sometimes, and he was beginning to dread the whole Thanksgiving experience that she had been so adamant about having for everyone. 

When he came back, he saw that Olive had already taken over the kitchen. There were pots and pans everywhere that he wasn’t even sure how she found, considering he didn’t even know he had them and she had taken off her jacket and had the sleeves of her Canucks sweatshirt that he didn’t even realize she had borrowed from him pushed up her arms. Elias set the bags on the counter and began unpacking them slowly while Olive continued to arrange various items on the counter. As he picked up the champagne bottles to put them in the fridge, he noticed the back of the sweatshirt, Boeser written in bold white font staring him right in the face. He froze as he looked over the name, nearly dropping the champagne when Olive turned to face him. 

“Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?” She laughed, grabbing the glass bottle from his hands and putting it into the fridge herself. 

“Why do you have Brock’s sweatshirt on?” Elias countered. Olive didn’t miss a beat as she came up with an excuse as to why she was wearing his sweatshirt, not wanting to tell him that he had left it at her apartment after spending the night there the week prior when they had gotten back from a particularly bad road trip and he needed a friend. 

“Oh, his normal dog person had to miss a day when you guys were gone so I went over to feed them and when I was leaving it started raining and he said to just grab something. I only wore it so I’d remember to give it back tonight, I have other clothes to change into for when everyone starts showing up,” she shrugged, almost surprising herself at how easily the lie slipped out from her lips. Olive hated lying to him, she hated not being able to tell her best friend that something as simple as wearing Brock’s sweatshirt sent butterflies swarming in her stomach, that the worn fabric with his name on the back made her feel safe and secure. But she knew how Elias felt about the idea of them, and while there were obvious feelings developing on both ends, she knew that until there was truly something to share, she shouldn’t tell him the truth about why she had the sweatshirt. 

Elias didn’t answer her, instead he finished laying out the various groceries until she shooed him out of the kitchen and into his own thoughts. He felt like something was off from her explanation, but he tried to shove it off as he went through the rest of his day. He took a shower and settled into the living room, popping back into the kitchen when it was nearing 5. 

“Elias, if you’re not going to help me peel these, you’re free to go back into the living room,” Olive scolded Elias jokingly. She had a bowl of potatoes and carrots in front of her, washed and ready to be prepared as one of the many dishes she was making for herself, Elias, and some of the other Canucks boys that would be coming over later. 

“No, I can help, it’s almost 5 and you need to shower you smell,” Elias smirked as he grabbed the peeler from Olive’s hands. She looked at the clock, noticing that there was only about an hour and a half left on the Turkey that was roasting in the oven. She looked over at Elias, who was holding the peeler backwards looking absolutely lost as he tried to figure out what to do with it. She sighed as she took it from his hands and turned it around, motioning how to correctly hold the small tool. Elias may have been smart when it came to playing hockey, but when it came to essential kitchen tasks he was certainly nowhere near being functional. 

“Can you handle doing this while I shower and get ready? All you have to do is peel them and put them into boiling water and set a timer. I’ll be done by then,” Olive asked, worry in her voice. Elias nodded at her, a smirk present on his lips as he spoke,

“Yes, stinky, go shower I can do it.” He said. Olive rolled her eyes and retreated toward his bathroom, grabbing her bag that she had brought with all of her things to get ready with her. 

As Olive got ready she could hear people starting to trickle into Elias’s apartment. She couldn’t help but listen in as she heard the voice she had been excited about hearing all afternoon. 

“Where’s Ollie-pop?” Brock said, his voice was a bit muffled from being a wall over from where she was doing her makeup. 

“Don’t call her that, it’s stupid.” She heard Elias reply followed by Brock laughing, their voices melting out of earshot as she assumed they went to the kitchen. 

She looked in the mirror and pulled a few strands of hair out of her braid to let them frame her face. She fussed around a bit, swiping on her dark red lipstick slowly as her stomach filled with nerves while more voices that she recognized started filling the room. She knew why she was so nervous, and it had to do with a certain blonde boy whose laugh she kept hearing as she slowly got dressed in Elias’s room. She took a big breath, dusting her hands off on her skirt before putting on a brave face and leaving Elias’s room. 

Olive panicked a little seeing all of the boys and a few of their girlfriends scattered around the room, champagne in their hands and indistinct chatter filling her ears. Brock noticed her first, he always did when she was in the room, and he got up to walk toward her. Olive froze as Brock stepped in front of her and handed her a glass of much needed champagne, a soft smile on his lips that was nearly torturous for her to look at without thinking about kissing him. She took a generous sip of the champagne, watching as his smile turned into a smirk sent in her direction. She could lie to Elias, she could maybe even put on a show for everybody else and pretend like her heart wasn’t leaping into Brock’s hands, but she couldn’t lie to herself anymore about how she truly felt, and that was what terrified her as she stood in front of him. 

“I know Petey is terrible in the kitchen but wow was he that bad?” Brock teased as Olive finished the glass of champagne he handed her. He tried not to let his mind wander and focus on the red imprint her lips made on the champagne flute and what that did to him. Olive simply shrugged and traded the glass with his nearly full one, drinking down the light colored liquid from that while he let his eyes travel down her body. She was wearing a black knit sweater with the front tucked into olive green shorts, a gold belt buckle slightly visible. Her legs were covered in sheer black tights and she had no shoes on. Brock tried not to let himself think about how it all would look in a pile on his bedroom floor. 

“Hey handsome, I’d love to stay and chat but if anyone wants to eat I need to force Elias out of the kitchen,” Olive said. She shook her head at herself, wondering how she let that come out and tried to ignore the fact that Quinn was staring at her as she walked past a now blushing Brock. When she was out of earshot, Quinn patted Brock on the shoulder, laughing as he spoke, 

“Hey handsome, you should probably stop drooling over Olive before Petey notices.” Brock rolled his eyes and ignored his now snickering friend as he ran a hand through his hair, the compliment ringing in his ears. 

Both Olive and Brock spent the rest of dinner drinking probably too much champagne than was acceptable at Thanksgiving. But neither of them cared as they downed each glass, desperately trying to escape their own mutual feelings to keep the growing tension away from the presence of their friends. Brock spent all of dinner almost putting his hand on Olive’s thigh under the table, wanting to reassure her that he was there and wasn’t going anywhere no matter what anyone thought. Olive spent all of dinner pretending not to notice Brock’s hand moving toward her every so often, or his soft eyes when he looked at her while she was speaking. If you held her down and told her to recount what anyone else had said that night, she wouldn’t be able to do it because all that was being written on the sticky notes in her head was how much she adored the boy sitting next to her and the constant reminder that they had to be kept apart. 

Olive excused herself to the kitchen, using the excuse of  grabbing another bottle for the table, but really she just needed a moment to herself away from Brock to catch her short breath. She didn’t have long to regain her composure before Brock walked into the kitchen. Olive tried to suppress the way her eyes looked him up and down, the alcohol clouding her judgement as she looked at his beige sweater and dark jeans that were just tight enough on him to send her into overdrive while she thought about what it would be like to peel them off of him. Brock on the other hand took a step closer to the girl he had spent the entire night thinking about, the alcohol clouding his judgement with a burst of confidence and a newfound appreciation for the thrill of potentially getting caught in a compromising position in Petey’s kitchen.  

“You look absolutely fucking gorgeous tonight,” Brock smirked, resting both of his hands on either side of Olive as her back was pressed lightly against the counter. They had both had a bit too much to drink, and Brock wasn’t blind to the lingering looks they had been catching each other in from across the room all night. 

Olive put one hand on his chest, her dark painted nails a contrast to his light beige sweater. He smirked down at her, noticing the blush rising to her cheeks, matching that signature red lip that he currently was dying to smudge. He reached a hand down to the waistband of her olive green shorts, the black sweater she was wearing tucked in lightly in the front, and sheer tights covering the rest of her legs driving him wild. 

“I like these, especially,” He smirked at her, the champagne providing him the confidence to give such compliments in Petey’s kitchen with everyone just a few feet away, laughter muffled through the walls. He always thought Olive was gorgeous, but something about seeing her so happy amongst all of their friends had his mind reeling all night, and the alcohol was doing nothing to calm his feelings about her down. 

“Oh yeah?” Olive smiled as she wrapped a hand around the base of his neck, tugging lightly on the ends of his blonde hair and watching as his eyes turned a darker shade as he looked at her. Brock was warm, the kitchen was warm, and her heart felt warm as they shared this not so innocent moment that seemed like it was long overdue, despite having known each other just a few weeks. Olive felt a comfort with Brock that she didn’t quite understand yet. She wasn’t able to confront her feelings in a meaningful way, instead she settled for finding any and all words that reminded her of him, scribbling them down not too neatly to save for him on pale pink post-it notes stuck amongst various pages of her navy blue notebook, never far from her person or heart. Just as quickly as his warmth was enveloping her, it went away as Brock pulled back and ran a hand nervously though his hair, a slight cough coming from his chest as she looked past him and was met with the curious eye of Elias who had walked in holding two empty bottles of the very wine that had gotten them into this mess. 

“Brock I think Quinn needs you,” Elias grumbled, setting the champagne bottles in his recycling bin with a crash that was so loud it was almost impossible for Olive or Brock to ignore the not so subtle shift in his mood. Brock raised his brow at Olive, silently asking if she was alright before she nodded in response, waiving him off with her hand, the dainty bracelets on her wrist clanking together softly as she moved. 

Elias watched closely as Brock left the kitchen and was out of earshot and he turned his body to face his friend. He slowly moved over to the sink, rinsing off a couple of the plates that had occupied the stainless steel space, the tension in the air between them was enough to nearly sober Olive up, her intentions with Brock quickly dissipating under Elias’s intense stare. She could almost feel the disappointment radiating off of him as she waited for him to speak. 

“Stop flirting with Boes,” was all he managed, his voice curt and short in the usual Elias way but with an undertone of annoyance coming from him. Olive was a bit surprised by his words, knowing that Elias had never expressed interest in her let alone anyone for anything that could amount to something long-term, so she wasn’t sure if this was jealousy he was exhibiting or something else. She sighed softly, readjusting her sweater and brushing some of her hair that had fallen into her eyes out of them. 

“I’m not,” She argued back and it wasn’t clear who she was trying to convince more, Elias or herself, because if she were to think back to the moment before Elias walked in, who’s to say that it wouldn’t have ended in a kiss that had been on her mind since Brock had walked into her life that night at the bar. 

“I just think there needs to be a boundary,” Elias shrugged once more and Olive found herself growing irritable at his dismissive tone. As far as she was concerned, her and Brock were both adults and while Elias may have been the common denominator between them, he had no right to dictate what type of relationship that would develop between them. 

“Boundaries?” She scoffed, walking across the kitchen to grab his arm, forcing him to look her in the eyes and say what he meant. Elias frowned at his friend, but held firm in his requests as he gently lifted her fingers from his wrist.

“It would bother me if you and Brock were together,” was all he said as he turned off the running water and went to exit the kitchen, leaving Olive standing there to relish in her own thoughts. She did her best to distance herself from Brock for the remainder of the night, trying to remain calm and collected as she hugged him quickly goodbye while Elias’s eyes hovered on the two of them from across the room. She sighed as he walked out the door, almost regretting the mess she was so willingly getting herself into.  

The awkward goodbye from Thanksgiving didn’t last that long, as Olive found herself falling figuratively right back into Brock’s arms. She had been spending copious amounts of time at his condo, sometimes staying there while he was away for games and watching his dogs. She felt comfortable when it was just them, their friendship steadily progressing when they were able to be alone with each other. The problem was that they both knew it wasn’t just a friendship that had sparked between them, there was something more pulling them together and it was evident in how they spoke to each other, and how they touched each other more than anyone who could be just friends would. When they were alone she didn’t think about it being a secret, she was comfortable with Brock. 

When they were with Elias, they slipped into another type of friendship, one that felt entirely wrong for how close they were. Brock hated lying to his best friend and there were so many instances where he would almost tell Petey just how much he liked Olive, but then he would remember that bruise from what was now months prior and he would freeze, letting the words hang in the air without ever getting them out. When Elias made his mind up about something, that was it, and part of Brock was beginning to accept that anything with Olive had to be just between them even if it hurt in the long run. 

--------------

It was now late November and Olive was comfortably maneuvering her body around Brock’s kitchen, wearing his sweatshirt, her overnight bag sitting inconspicuously out of the room on his bed. If any outside person were to be watching, this was a comfortable couple in an established relationship, spending their night together. Sometimes for Olive it truly felt that way, and while nothing physical between them had occurred past some inarguably too intimate cuddling while they slept, she wanted it to be true. She wanted all of his nights and mornings, she wanted to kiss him and hold his hand in public, she wanted to tell Elias that she had completely fallen for his best friend and have him accept and support it. But that wasn’t the scenario, and instead she settled for the almost that she could share with Brock, investing her heart even further into something that might never actually happen. 

Brock leaned his back against the counter, taking a sip of his beer and watching Olive as she started adding in various spices. Brock was by no means a chef, let alone anything close to an average cook. His expertise rested in baked chicken and steamed vegetables, and olive chastised him when she arrived with groceries and found out he didn’t have any spices to use until she dragged him to the store and made him stockpile all of the seasoning that he could only imagine how to use. There was something about olive standing in his kitchen that for the first time made his place feel like a home. He let his mind drift so far as to think about her there all the time, an image that left him nearly chugging the rest of his liquid courage and walking up behind her at the stove. He reached his hand to her waist, letting it settle there for balance as he wrapped his other arm around to pick up the spoon and take a bite of the soup she was making. 

“Brock Boeser! Stop it, it’s not ready yet!” She shrieked, swatting his hand away softly. He knew she wasn’t truly upset, her laugh echoing softly after. Brock rested his chin on her shoulder as he mindlessly traced his fingertips along her waist. He felt his mind shift back into a trance of what domesticity with Olive would look like, and he had to keep focusing on the fact that it wasn’t real or he would have kissed her by now. 

Olive relaxed slightly into his arms, momentarily forgetting about the circumstances and reaching her arm up to thread her fingers through his hair. She was stuck in the moment, her mind racing and completely forgetting about the reality of Brock not actually being hers to take. She almost felt like she was out of her own body watching herself as she turned her head back to face him, using her hand to softly glide him down toward her. She watched as his eyes fluttered shut and his hand gripped her waist tighter, their lips almost touching. Her lips touched the corner of his mouth and it snapped her out of the daze she was in, with her jumping away from him and catching her breath, cheeks red and heart pounding.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ she struggled to find the words, raising a hand to her chest with the hopes that it would somehow calm the rapidness of her heart. All Brock did was smile, his calm demeanor never falling despite his insides scrambling at the fact that Olive practically kisses him. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, taking a step closer to her and kissing her forehead softly, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary until Olive relaxed into him, slowly wrapping her arms around his waist and putting her head in his chest. She was trying not to let herself get carried away by the intimacy of the moment or his heartbeat pounding nearly as fast as hers in his chest.

“Uhm, right,” She frowned, heart still racing as she backed away from him and focussed her attention back on the soup. She could feel her cheeks becoming hotter as she felt embarrassment flood through her body at what just happened. She wasn’t sure what was more embarrassing, almost kissing Brock and missing, or having to hear him brush it off like it wasn’t a big deal. For the most part, Olive always felt that Brock and her were on the same page, the sticky note with the words for him sitting comfortably next to her own. She thought back to Thanksgiving and how she was so sure he was going to kiss her until Elias walked in and he didn’t, the same feeling of disappointment that filled her then was creeping up once again.  

Brock didn’t miss a beat as he kissed her cheek once more, his hand settling back onto her hip as if it perfectly fit there. He shifted into conversation, effortlessly pulling Olive back out from her own head in the most reassuring of ways. She focussed on the soup in front of her on the stove instead of the moment that they almost shared because if she thought about it too hard, she might do something really stupid and kiss him again, this time not missing the target. 

By mid December, Brock had spent most of his rare days off preparing for the holidays. His family was coming out to Vancouver this time around because with the Canucks schedule this year, it would give them the ability to spend more than a few days together. Brock normally loved going home for Christmas, he loved spending time back at home, finding comfort in the harsh Minnesota winters that most people from there dreaded. But he didn’t mind the change this year, because it meant more time with his family and he had planned a surprise for his dad to come to see one of his games just after Christmas. So, to prepare for the momentous holiday that was Christmas with the Boeser’s, he tried his best to emulate the tree and decorations from home, filling his call log with facetime calls to both his mom and brother trying his best to get it absolutely right. 

After about an hour of trying to untangle the Christmas lights that were tossed carelessly in a storage bin he didn’t realize he even had, he felt his frustration growing. He just wanted everything to go smoothly for everyone, but reality slapped him in the face with the realization that while he may have appeared to be an adult, he absolutely would not know how to host anything let alone Christmas if he couldn’t even untangle lights. He was supposed to see Olive later that night, wanting to take her to dinner in celebration of her new dissertation proposal being approved, but now he was questioning whether or not he would even have the time to. Just as he was picking up his phone, the girl in question was calling, a photo of her sleeping with Coolie on her lap lighting up his screen and making him smile softly. 

“Hey Ollie,” Brock sighed into the phone as he stood up. 

“Okay, what’s wrong,” Olive laughed, not meaning to make fun of Brock but noticing immediately the melancholiness that he was hiding in his voice.

“If I tell you, you can’t laugh at me,” Brock joked, switching the call to FaceTime so that he could see her. Olive smiled at him through the screen, her messy bun sitting almost perfectly on top of her head and her glasses pushed up on her forehead. He couldn’t help but notice that she was wearing his old sweatshirt, the one that she had brought to Thanksgiving but never actually gave back. Seeing her in his clothes was almost like he had a piece of her, something that he knew he wanted. Olive rolled her eyes slightly, a teasing smile on her red lips as she urged him to continue. All Brock did was show her the mess he had made on the floor. When he flipped the camera back to him he could see that she was walking, and he heard keys jingling in her hands as she moved around her apartment. 

“Senseless: Lacking common sense,” she teased as she struggled to lock her door one handed, adding, “I’ll tell you what, I will forgive you for obviously not being able to take me out to a fancy restaurant in Yaletown tonight to celebrate my dissertation if, and only if there is Greek food on the way to your place by the time I get there and you get those horrendous lights somewhere that I will not ever see them.” 

“Deal, babe,” Brock laughed, already moving to throw the tangled lights back into the bin that they came from.    

When Olive showed up at his apartment 30 minutes later complaining about the traffic, he already had Greek food as promised from her favorite place sitting on the counter waiting for her. She walked in, wearing his old sweatshirt and a pair of grey leggings, hair up as always and even in her relaxed state he thought she was the most breathtaking thing he had ever seen. 

“God, what did I ever do to deserve you, Brock Boeser?” Olive moaned as she pulled herself from his arms and started opening the bag, the delightful smells filling the air around them as she handed him a container. 

“Careful, you might regret that statement when you start helping me decorate,” He said as he took the container from her hands, letting his fingers brush hers gently. 

“I get you, Christmas decorations, and Greek food, nothing could ever be better than that, Brockadoodle,” She smiled and Brock nearly melted into a puddle on the floor, the stupid nickname toasting his heart each time she said it. Olive was so different from him in so many ways, she was smarter, louder, and more sure of herself than he ever was or had been. But his favorite thing was that he no longer could count on one hand the things he was starting to love about her, he found himself studying the small mannerisms that you don’t notice about a person until you’re falling in love, and while there was still a metaphorical fence separating the two of them, he was already building an arsenal of tools to start tearing it down. 

The two of them decorated for hours, laughter and distractions coming between them as the sun went down and the city lights illuminated through the room from the floor to ceiling windows in his living room. Olive let out a satisfied sigh as she flicked off the living room light, letting the white Christmas lights sparkle around the room. The moment felt almost too domestic, especially when Brock came up behind her and wrapped his arms around the middle of her, pressing a soft kiss onto her shoulder and muttering a soft thank you to her. She placed her hands over his and patted them lightly, her smile growing along with the butterflies that he always seemed to put into her stomach. 

“They’re going to love it,” she whispered, her heart heavy with the realization that this wasn’t for her, this wasn’t a Christmas that they were spending together, because they weren’t together. Olive slipped from his arms and went over to the couch, settling in next to Milo who was currently sleeping. She shook any heaviness from her heart as she patted the spot next to her and Brock walked over. 

“Are you staying tonight?” He asked, hopeful that the answer was yes. 

“Mhm,” Olive nodded, pulling the blanket over both of their laps and settling back into his arms while he turned on the TV. She snuggled closer to him, resting her hand on his thigh underneath the blanket as she curled her legs behind her and let her eyes close. 

“Enrapture: give intense joy to,” She smiled into his side as she gave him another word for how he made her feel. The words written in her notes slowly become variations and synonyms for the same concept, her falling in love with Brock. It was the only way she knew how to express it to him, giving him subtle hints of it as she drifted asleep, knowing that with the three squeezes he gave to her hand that he felt the same. 

--------------

A few days later, Brock found himself bickering with Petey as he tried to get the last bit of his Christmas shopping done before the team went on a road trip, coming back just the day before Brock’s whole family came into town.

Brock opened the door to the old bookshop and held it as Petey walked in, the scent of old books lingering in the air. He had been hunting for a first edition copy of Jane Eyre, Olive’s favorite book for weeks. He had sent countless emails to various shops around Vancouver and Victoria, and made several phone calls inquiring about the book before he found this shop, a quaint small family run bookstore on Vancouver Island. When he got the email from the owner saying that they had one copy he was already out with Petey, having no choice but to bring him along or risk the one present that had been the most important for him to find being gone by the time he could come back. So, he asked the shop owner to hold the book, and dragged Petey to the ferry to get to the Island. 

Petey to Brock’s surprise didn’t ask too many questions about how the plans for the afternoon had shifted, and Brock for once was thankful for that stupid Mr. Sensitive nickname that the team had dubbed him with because now he could use that as his excuse for why getting Olive, someone who was just his friend now, such a sentimental Christmas gift. Elias wandered slowly into the bookshop, looking much too modern in his beige Essentials sweatshirt and dark pants in comparison to the warm shop. The shop was something straight out of what he imagined a store like this to look like, with books scattered along old wooden shelves, and a velvet couch sitting at the center of the room, a small black cat sleeping on its cushions. 

Elias walked over to the cat, reaching down to let the small animal sniff his hand and get acquainted with him before scratching it softly behind his ears. 

“That’s Leo,” a sharp but friendly voice called causing both Brock and Elias to look up toward the woman who was coming out from between two shelves, a stack of dusty books cradled in her hands and glasses hanging from a cord around her neck. 

“Well hello, Leo,” Petey greeted the cat, continuing to softly pet him until he heard soft purrs. Brock watched on with an unrecognizable look on his face, not because he didn’t like cats, but because he had never seen a cat in any sort of store before. Petey noticed his friend’s confusion and did not pass up on the opportunity at making a joke to him about it. 

“I know you only like dogs, Boes but you don’t have to stare at poor Leo like he’s ugly,” Elias commented, Brock immediately groaning slightly in response. 

Brock continued to ignore his friend, instead he paid for the book, thanking the woman profusely behind the counter. Elias watched and listened and they spoke, his mind wandering as the words sank in.

“We don’t normally have something like this in stock so when I got your email I knew we had to hold it. Must be for someone special to go through all this effort,” the woman smiled at Brock, a fondness present in her voice that he recognized. Brock smiled softly thinking about it, for a moment he forgot that Petey was within earshot and he almost let himself confess to this woman who owned a quaint little bookshop, something that Olive had always wanted to do. But then Elias came walking up, grabbing the book from his hands and he remembered that he couldn’t say how he truly felt, instead masking his feelings as best he could as he nodded. 

“Just a friend,” he smiled and Elias scoffed, knowing that this gift was far too special for it to be for just a friend. 

As the two of them walked out of the store, Elias didn’t say anything. He chose to live in his own world of denial, one that ignored the events that had just happened because if he were to face them he would have to face the fact that his closest friends had been lying to him and had gone behind his back in the exact way that he practically begged them not to. Instead he did what he knew how to do best, cracking a joke about Brock being too sensitive for his own good and then changing the subject as they continued with the rest of their shopping. 

Days later, Olive was sitting in her kitchen, frustration growing within herself as her own procrastination had taken over. She took a sip of the now cold coffee that had been sitting on the table next to her as another far too confusing video about how to hand bind a book played on her computer screen. There were papers scattered everywhere, various notes and lists of words that reminded her of Brock and how he made her feel, some that she had read in books of her own and others that she went searching for because her own feelings became too much and she needed the simplicity of putting them into one word for him. It was late and she had to literally give him this tomorrow, cursing herself for procrastinating so badly on his gift. Brock had made her feel so many of the things that she never knew another person was capable of making her feel and even if it took all night until her fingers cramped, she was determined to bind this damn book for him. 

She nearly cried as she held the finished book in her hands, the binding was terrible, and the writing on the inside was messy but she had finished it, and for it being nearly two in the morning that was enough for her. Olive was never one for crafts, her artistic abilities had stopped with horrible crayon drawings that her mother used to display on the fridge from when she was five. She was a reader, a philosopher when it came to spoken and written words, she wasn’t a crafty person by any means, but she was proud of this and hoped that Brock was receptive and not off put by the gift. 

She chose to wrap it in a small bag, setting it on the counter by her keys so that she wouldn’t forget it the following morning when she left for his house. She went through her nighttime routine, a small smile on her lips as she thought about seeing Brock the next day and giving it to him as she fell asleep. 

Olive was nervous as she drove the now familiar route to Brock’s condo. She knew that his family was in town and had told him that they could exchange their gifts after the New Year once things had settled down, but Brock was insistent that they needed to do it before Christmas. So, Olive found herself driving through the windy streets on a small detour on her way out of the city to her own childhood home in Kelowna. She had her favorite Christmas album playing softly from the car stereo as she rationalized and talked softly with herself that this wasn’t a big deal and she might not even meet anyone in his family. 

She typed in the gate code that she had memorized over the last few months and pulled her car into the guest spot, seeing Brock’s Range Rover parked next to it. She rolled her eyes, thinking again about how impractical that car was and reminding herself that Brock wasn’t exactly normal as she stepped out of her own car. She smoothed out her tights, a dark green suede skirt falling a few inches above her knees, a cream colored oversized knit sweater keeping the top part of her warm. Her hair was in her signature messy bun on top of her head, and glasses resting on her nose.

She anxiously brushed the stray hairs from her eyes with one hand as she held onto the small wrapped bag in the other as she stepped into the elevator. She walked slowly out of the elevator and down the hall to the front door she had seen many times over the last few months as she tried to give herself an encouraging pep talk about how this wasn’t that weird of a situation and Brock would surely like the gift she had picked out for him. She bit her lip slightly as she raised her hand to knock on his door, the gold bracelets on her wrist dangling as she knocked three times. When the door opened she was met with a familiar face that she had seen in many photographs scattered through Brock’s condo. 

“Dad, I got it!” She heard Brock’s voice from down the hall, his footsteps coming quickly after. Brock’s dad smiled at her warmly, stepping aside so she could come in. She looked around, noticing the tree set up in the living room with a humble amount of presents underneath it. There was a beautiful flower arrangement on his counter, something she only assumed his mom must have picked out since Brock was hopeless when it came to flowers, and the Christmas decorations that she had helped him with just days prior sprinkled throughout the kitchen and leading into the living room. She could hear various voices coming from around the corner and she felt a bit awkward and like she was invading their family time as she stood there in his kitchen, a bit out of place.

Brock rounded the corner and her eyes widened at the sight of him. He was wearing an ugly Christmas sweater, with a reindeer on the front of it, dark jeans, and bright red socks. His hair was sticking slightly out of the black beanie that he had on his head and she could tell he had freshly shaved. He looked good, even in his tacky yet endearing holiday sweater. But what caught her attention most was the little boy in his arms at his hip. She recognized him immediately as his nephew who he had told her so much about, and her heart dropped to her stomach at the sight of Brock with the toddler. Seeing it in photos was one thing, but with him standing in front of her, a bright smile on his face and his nephew in his arms, she might have collapsed right there if not for knowing his dad was just feet away watching this exchange occur. 

The little boy waved excitedly at Olive, twisting himself in Brock’s arms to reach out toward her. Brock settled him down, lowering him onto his feet while holding his hands up so that he could stand. 

“Easton, can you say hi to Olive?” He said to the boy, squatting down so that he was as level as he could be with him and taking Easton’s hand and directing it toward Olive. It didn’t take long for him to break from Brock’s light hold, tumbling over toward Olive before she could fully react. She panicked as Easton grabbed onto her tights, wrapping both of his small sweater covered arms around her calves and Brock chuckled softly in the background. She looked over to Brock with pleading eyes, not wanting to overstep any boundaries by picking the young boy up. 

“Careful buddy, you don’t want to knock the pretty girl over,” she heard his dad say from behind her, nodding softly at Brock before exiting the room and leaving Olive alone there with Easton on her legs and Brock smiling adoringly in front of her. 

“Let’s go to my room, yeah?” Brock asked, leaning down to pick up his nephew and lead her further into his condo that she knew well. He handed the toddler back to his brother, quickly introducing Olive to everyone before grabbing her hand and lacing his fingers through hers as he tugged her toward his bedroom. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure that his entire family probably heard it. All she could focus on was that Brock was holding her hand, he had held her hand in front of his entire family, and her mind was going in circles over the simple show of affection as they went into his room, leaving the door slightly open. 

Brock dropped her hand and Olive quickly tried to recover from the slight pang of sadness that she felt from the loss of contact. Brock handed her the package, it was poorly wrapped and very obviously a book, but she already loved it anyways. 

“Open yours first, Ollie.” Brock said. She carefully handed him the bag, biting her lip softly as she carefully ripped the messily wrapped rectangular shaped present. She let out a small gasp when she realized what it was, letting her hands run over the worn out pages as she took a step toward Brock.

“How did you find this?” She asked him. She had been looking for a first edition for what felt like months, having visited what felt like almost every bookstore in the city multiple times looking for it. Brock ran a hand nervously through his hair, a soft blush and smile present in his features.

“I, uh, found it at this small place on Vancouver Island, went out there last week.” He shrugged, doing his best at ignoring the fact that this much effort was not normal for friends. He swallowed nervously as Olive walked toward him and settled into his arms, her fingers sliding around his sides before one hand pressed against his jaw.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she leaned in. This was it, he was finally going to kiss Olive, a moment that was pent up and he had been waiting for since that night in the dive bar all those months ago. Olive’s lips were almost to his as his eyes fluttered closed, just barely grazing before the door flew open and Olive jumped back, coughing lightly and eyes wide open in shock. Easton had tumbled into the room, Brock’s sister in law chasing after him and picking him up. She clearly read the room as she smirked toward Brock and a now embarrassed Olive, picking up her son and closing the door behind them as she left. 

“I should, uhm, get back on the road,” Olive stuttered out. 

“Right, yeah,” Brock mumbled out, his lips burning from the almost contact as Olive rushed out of his place, waving goodbye to his family as she left. Brock closed the front door behind her, turning to be faced with every member of his family looking at him in a way that made him want to go back into his room and scream into a pillow. He already had to deal with his own feelings, Olive’s feelings, and Petey’s ridiculous demands, the last thing he wanted to tack onto the list was explaining to his family that she was more than a friend but not his girlfriend yet. 

“I liked your girlfriend, Brock,” His dad smiled and Brock nearly collapsed right there. Of course his dad liked her, another nail in the coffin that contained his desire for Olive to actually be his girlfriend. 

“She’s not my girlfriend, dad.” Brock shrugged, trying to move on from the subject for the rest of the day as they continued to celebrate the holiday.  

--------------

Brock could hear the countdown beginning, each one of his friends echoing the numbers down to the New Year, but it all felt like static in the background as he watched Olive. The lights on the roof were dimmed, presumably for the fireworks that were likely going to be set off when time turned to midnight. He looked at Olive and to him she was the brightest thing of the year even if it hadn’t started yet. He stood off to the side with his now empty drink in his hand watching her as she popped open a bottle of some expensive European champagne that Jacob had sworn by as being the best. 

Her gold dress lit up in contrast to her crimson red lips, her long dark hair curled and falling down her back, something that was rare for Olive. Brock’s maroon bomber jacket was hanging from her body, something he had given her just hours before as it started to get dark. But what really was getting to Brock was seeing her laugh as she popped the cork, champagne bubbling out of the bottle and all over the front of her dress. He could hear the countdown hit one as everyone cheered for the new year and he watched as Olive looked around the rooftop, a gorgeous smile on her red lips as she made eye contact with him. She raised the bottle to her lips, taking a long drink before setting it down on the table and walking toward him. With each step she took, her smile grew, and Brock knew right then and there that he loved Olive Burke, champagne stained dress and all. 

Olive came tumbling into Brock, tripping slightly and landing right in his arms, laughing loudly as Brock realized just how much she had to drink that night. He grabbed her waist to steady her as she looked at him, her expression inquisitive and different than he had ever seen her look at him before. Olive and Brock had been dancing around each other since they met, both of them steadily falling into each other with no true intentions of stopping. There was a roadblock though, and as Brock looked at the girl he somehow fell in love with all he could hear in his head was Petey’s disapproval, a steady echo in his mind stopping him from pulling her closer every time. 

 Olive reached her hand up to his hair, running her fingers through it softly as her other hand rested on his chest, sending Brock’s head into a tailspin of worry that she was going to start leaning in. As much as he wanted this and her, he didn’t want it under these circumstances, with Olive having significantly more to drink than he had. It may have hurt to not be able to kiss Olive for New Years, but it would hurt worse for him to know that he had even marginally taken advantage of a situation that she was too drunk to have coherent thoughts over. 

“You’re so pretty, Brockadoodle.” Olive laughed, leaning her head slightly into his chest, the warmth radiating from his body as they stood on the roof. Fireworks were going off in the distance, lighting up the sky above the water although neither of them were looking. 

“You’re pretty drunk, Ollie.” He smiled at her, watching as her face pulled into a sour look at his lack of acceptance of her compliments. She pouted slightly, leaning her head into his chest and shivering a bit, all of the noise passing by around her as she leaned into Brock. The noise and commotion didn’t matter, all that mattered was him and she knew that this year she was going to be brave. She was going to tell him that she loved him, even if it didn’t end in them together. 

“Will you take me home?” She asked, yawning slightly. Brock steadied her in his arms, setting his glass down and wrapping her hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it as she smiled drunkenly at him. 

“Yeah, Olive, I’ll get you home safe,” he nodded as they left the party together, Elias looking on in the distance but too drunk to fully comprehend what was happening right in front of him. Instead the denial crept back into his head as he watched his friends leave hand in hand on a night where the saying about who you spend the new year with is who you’ll be with that year would ultimately ring true. 

Brock pulled the covers over Olive as she slowly closed her eyes, the drunkenness taking over her body as the room slightly spun around her. Her heart was heavy, the excitement of the night wearing off and the sadness of knowing that she was spending New Years essentially alone kicking in stronger than it would have if she was sober. Brock started to get up, thinking she was already asleep when he was startled by her grabbing his arm slightly.

“Why didn’t you kiss me at midnight?” She whispered, her eyes nearly watering as she sat up in bed to look at him. Olive was never one to shy away from her feelings, when she liked someone, she told them. But Brock was different, he was sweet, and kind, and everything she didn’t know she wanted wrapped up into one person who had steadily become a constant in her mess of a life. She had only known him for such a short time, all things considered, but now she couldn’t picture her life without him. Elias’s words constantly stop her from admitting her feelings for him, a sharp echo of “you’ll run him over and leave him in the dust,” stabbing her in the chest every time she comes close. So for now, she took what she could from Brock, settling on the dance that the two of them kept doing, sharing her love only in written words with the hope that someday he would decipher it. 

Brock frowned, hating that he was unintentionally hurting Olive. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a few seconds while he held her cheek. 

“Happy New Year’s, Ollie.” 

--------------

When none of the group was voted in for the All-Star game that year, Olive knew they should take advantage of the week off together, suggesting that they all go out to Whistler and get a cabin, an idea that secretly she knew Brock would love because he was always down for things involving the snow. Largely everyone agreed, and so she found herself settling into a beautiful rented cabin with Brock, Elias, Quinn, and Quinn’s girlfriend on their way to the mountains. 

“Really? Neither of you are willing to go?” Brock sighed, looking at Petey and Quinn pointedly. Petey shrugged his shoulders, mumbling something about not wanting to be cold and Quinn actively ignored the question and got up and left the room.

“Ollie,” Brock looked at Olive, who was sitting at the kitchen counter, a mug of tea in her hands, actively trying to ignore the conversation that had been taking place. She set her mug down, looking over at Brock. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go, it was quite the opposite really. 

Brock was standing there, eyes soft as he watched her, a dark green beanie covering his hair, a thick grey sweatshirt on his body. Olive had to shake the thoughts she had been having about him all morning. She was still recovering from seeing him sleepy when he first woke up, his breath hot on her neck while he reached around her to grab his own mug of coffee, a soft good morning coming from his tired, thick voice. His lips had ghosted softly over her neck, a moment that was ripped too soon when he seemed to wake up a bit more and remember that this wasn’t what either of them thought it was. He couldn’t just kiss her good morning like she wanted him to, so the moment passed without words, an awkward dance in the hours before Elias and Autumn retreated from their beds. 

Brock wordlessly left the kitchen after that moment, taking Olive’s breath with him as he did, and she had spent the rest of the morning actively trying to avoid his presence. But with him standing near her once more, looking like the boyfriend she wanted him to be, she found herself humming in agreement on going sledding with him, heart rate rising as his smile increased after she had said yes. 

Olive was borderline panicking, wondering why she had to be so infatuated with the boy looking at her. She adjusted the dark blue beanie on her head, and zipped up her parka, an added layer of protection over her heart to hopefully prevent Brock from invading into her any further. She plastered on a fake smile, an attempt at covering the nerves that were racing through her body as she kept trying to remind herself that this was no big deal, just sledding with a friend. 

Brock opened the door to the SUV and gestured for Olive to get in, watching as she tried to get settled with her large puffy coat on. He was standing there debatably too long, admiring the little flakes of snow scattered in the ends of her hair that were hanging out of the beanie he lent her. He felt a strange pull of affection at the idea of her in his clothes, a picture entering his mind of seeing her in the morning, one of his sweatshirts draped over her body as he kissed her. 

“Brock, are we going or are you just going to stand there holding the door,” Olive’s tone was light, and it caused his picture to fade, a slight heat rising to his face as if he was caught doing something wrong. Brock liked Olive, as so much more than a friend, and when her smirk softened into a smile, he felt as if he saw his own feelings reflecting back at him through her eyes.

“You look like a cute marshmallow.” He said, a grin on his face and affection in his eyes. Olive blushed slightly at his words that did nothing to calm the beat of her heart as she rolled her eyes at Brock, barely skipping a beat as she responded with a cheeky comment of her own.

“Thank you, I will be expecting a letter of appreciation for my impact when you make me s’mores later.” 

“Anything for you, Ollie,” Brock responded, handing her his phone as he turned on the car, giving her free reign of the music that would softly play in the background as they drove on toward the small town. 

Brock drove carefully down the highway, dark green trees covered in snow on either side. It reminded him a bit of the scene in Minnesota where he grew up, cold winters with endless snowfall. But the difference here was that he had Olive next to him, the girl who he had grown so fond of over the last few months, humming softly along to the song playing through the speakers, watching as the trees flew by. Winter didn’t seem so cold with her there, and for a moment he forgot about Petey asking him not to fall for her, he didn’t think about the fact that this was a short week trip in the middle of the season, all that was dancing through his mind was the girl in the passenger seat next to him and how he was going to finally have the resolve to kiss her today.

They quickly rented a sled, his contract preventing them from anything more physical than that like skiing or snowboarding, and headed off toward the bunny slopes. They struggled to get the sled underneath them, Brock insisting he could do it as he pushed them off to start going down the mountain, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she was sitting in between his legs. It was all going well until he tried to turn, sending them tumbling out of the slide and into the snow. 

Olive laughed loudly as Brock fell on top of her, reacting quickly to catch himself so that he wouldn’t land on her or hurt her. Her laugh was his favorite song, something that he could set on repeat and listen to for hours, not because it was particularly beautiful, but because each time she laughed it was genuine and the happiness that radiated from her was something he never wanted to stop seeing. 

It would be so easy for him to kiss her, with her hair wildy spread out in the snow, flakes of it coming down and melting on her warm cheeks, Olive looking at him like she was standing on the dock, hand reaching out and ready for him to make the jump with her. His body was flushed against hers, hovered over her in a way that felt comfortable and right, visions of what this would be like if the setting were different clouding his judgement. He stayed hovered over Olive for a moment, watching as her eyes flicked down to his lips and back up, hope flashing through his mind that if he did kiss her, she would kiss him back. All of the commotion around them seemingly evaporated as he stayed there, her hand steady on his side, his body hovering over hers, snow indented behind them from where they slid off of the path. 

“Can I kiss you?” Brock whispered as he leaned even closer, his own stomach twisting with nerves as he looked down at Olive for her answer. When she slowly nodded, he felt like his chest was going to explode as he leaned in. Suddenly, time wasn’t passing leisurely anymore, it was quick as he leaned down and pressed his lips softly to hers.  

Olive reacted quickly to the kiss, months of pent up glances and moments where she thought this very thing was going to happen causing her to ignore all of the reasons why it shouldn’t. She reached her hand up, pulling Brock even closer to her than he already was as she kissed him back, her heart doing flips in her chest and her body lighting up with each passing second. 

Everything about the kiss felt right to Olive. She had spent so long dancing on this tightrope with Brock that it felt like one of those slow motion scenes in a bad Hallmark Christmas movie, where the characters would finally pull together and realize their feelings. But this wasn’t a movie, and there wasn’t a Christmas love story to be had for Brock and Olive in late January. 

Brock pulled himself from her, offering a smile that was quite possibly the most incredible smile Olive had seen from him as he held his hand out to her to help pull her up. When she was standing and facing him, she leaned up and kissed him softly once more, savoring the feeling of her lips on his, the threads of her heart seaming together as she was able to add the first real tally to the list of almost encounters, ones that had been haunting her thoughts since that night in September when Brock had shown up, crashing completely into her with his lopsided smile, bad taste in beer, and a slightly sunburnt nose.

Olive felt indescribable as she walked through the small town, hand tightly wrapped in Brock’s. For the first time since meeting him she felt like they were where they were supposed to be. They continued walking back toward the car, having stopped in a small cafe for a hot chocolate, something that Olive had insisted was necessary after a day in the snow.

“Brock, stop! You’re going to make me spill this” Olive laughed as Brock pulled her by the waist further into his arms. He was pressing soft kisses to her cheeks that were still tinted pink from the cold. 

“I just really like kissing you,” he responded as he brought his right hand up to Olive’s cheek, kissing her softly for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon. It was something Olive wasn’t growing tired of, all of the pent up feelings for the boy standing in front of her fluttering into the open in a way that they hadn’t been able to before. 

After helping Olive into the car, Brock reached over and grabbed her hand once more, threading his fingers with hers as he drove down the highway back to the cabin. Both of them were on edge as they thought about what this afternoon had meant, and how they were going to tell their friend who seemed to want nothing to do with the idea of them being together. Olive was bouncing her knee slightly as they got closer to the cabin and Brock put the car into park, neither of them making a move toward getting out of the car and going inside. 

“What are we going to tell him?” Olive was the first to break the silence that had been growing between them. Her voice was soft and hesitant as she spoke and she was desperately trying to keep her own insecurities down as she waited for Brock’s response. She knew what she wanted, she wanted to walk into that house with Brock by her side and she wanted her best friend to accept and be happy for them. But that desire was a large one, and even though Brock had given her every indication that he wanted all of that and more with her, if he didn’t say that it would probably crush her in a way that she wasn’t prepared to handle. 

Olive bit her lip as Brock squeezed her hand softly. He turned his body in the car, unwrapping his fingers from hers and instead bringing his hand softly to her cheek, pulling her a bit to look at him as he spoke. 

“I want you, I’ve wanted you since I met you, Olive. You’re this incredible, whirlwind of a person and you’re absolutely too smart and beautiful and overall good for me but somehow you tumbled into my life and have had a hold on my heart since.” 

Olive looked into his eyes and found nothing but sincerity in them. She smiled into his hand and leaned forward to kiss him once more.

“I like you so much,” she said against his lips, leaning her body over the center console to be as close to him as possible in such a small space, not preparing for what was potentially to come. In that moment, none of it mattered. It didn’t matter that Elias didn’t want them together, it didn’t matter that she had never been able to open up to someone in the way that she had with Brock, and it didn’t matter that she was terrified at the idea of what this could become. All that mattered to Olive was Brock, and she would do anything she could to hold onto him for as long as possible. 

“I like you too, Ollie, so much,” He whispered, pulling her in once more before bracing himself for the conversation with Petey that was likely to follow. Brock felt safe with Olive, he didn’t feel like he was compromising his heart by handing it over to her, he felt like he was investing it into something that would grow and evolve into a love that he didn’t know he ever wanted. He gave her one last kiss before they both got out of the car, lacing their fingers together yet again as they walked up to the front porch and into the house. 

Brock helped Olive get out of her coat, hanging the oversized parka on the metal coat rack by the door before looking around the hallway slightly to see if anyone would catch him stealing one more kiss. He felt like they were lovestruck teenagers, the thrill of sneaking around getting a bit to his head as he pulled her in one last time, pressing his lips softly to hers while she ran her hands through his hair. She grabbed his hand once more, leading him further into the house. 

Petey looked up from his spot on the old craftsman style couch, not noticing their entwined hands and rosy cheeks. The truth was that his mood was far too sour to notice the shift in dynamic between Brock and Olive. 

“Where’s Quinn?” Brock asked, still holding Olive’s hand from behind the counter. She looked up at him slightly, squeezing his fingers reassuringly before looking back toward Elias who had a scowl on his face.

“He and his girlfriend went out, not sure where.” Elias shrugged, taking a sip of his tea and quickly adding,

“I’m so glad you two aren’t together or this would be the worst trip now.” 

Olive frowned at his words, her head starting to spin and guilt over kissing Brock pooling in her stomach. But what hurt the most, was how quickly Brock had dropped her hand, her heart cracking just enough to make her throat close up at the loss of the sensation of Brock’s fingers threaded through hers. She did her best to let the moment pass, plastering on a fake smile as she excused herself from the kitchen, ruffling Elias’s hair softly as she walked by to get to her room, words dripping sarcastically from her lips,

“Right, well, you don’t have to worry about that.” 

Brock tried to pretend that the words coming from his friend didn’t hurt and that he didn’t feel like he had everything ripped right out from underneath him as Petey made the offhand comment. He sighed as he retreated back to his own room to gather his thoughts. He felt completely stuck at an intersection, where if he turned right he would be met with Olive, the girl who had been occupying his thoughts since September, who he had finally kissed just hours earlier after months of daring himself to make it happen. If he were to turn left, he would be met with losing Olive in the way that he wanted her most but he would keep his heart guarded because according to Petey, Olive was only capable of crushing his heart not cradling it. It was beginning to feel like it wasn’t Olive that could hurt him, it was actually Petey. 

Brock took an hour to himself and tried to consolidate his thoughts well enough to be able to talk to Olive. He knew that they couldn’t pretend that the kisses and admissions of affection from that afternoon hadn’t have happened, and he knew now thanks to Petey’s comment that they needed to have a definitive conversation about what it all meant. Brock walked over to Olive’s door, bringing his hand up and tentatively knocking on the soft wood. When she answered, he could tell that she had cried and that made his chest tighten even more than it already had as she stepped aside, motioning for him to come into the room. 

Olive crawled back into her bed, bringing the dark green comforter back up to her chest as she watched Brock sit down. He ran a hand through his hair, his mind grappling with what he wanted to say to her. He hated that he could see in her expression how hurt she already was, and he wanted nothing more than to be the one helping slow her tears rather than the one who caused them. But he kept grappling over the scenario in his mind, trying to convince himself that chalking the kiss up to a mistake was what produced the best outcome for everyone involved. 

“I’m sorry,” were the only words he knew how to say to the girl who was near tears again in front of him, because those were the only words he could come up with that would be true. Olive nodded, turning her head to look away from him, catching her gaze on the navy blue notebook that she always carried with her. 

“Miscalculation: an error or misjudgement,” she whispered, eyes filling with tears as she tried to avoid Brock’s expression. 

“Yeah.” Brock smiled sadly, hating that this was the outcome of what had been such a happy moment between them before, her lack of words confirming what he walked into that room already knowing. The weight of the words from earlier in the afternoon stepping heavily on both of their hearts. Maybe it was true what they said about timing, how sometimes no matter how right a person is, the situation or timing isn’t right. She couldn’t help but think about how different things would have been if she had met Brock first and not Elias, because she was so sure that her soul belonged with his. But if there was one thing about Olive it was that she would always let herself down before her friends, and if this was that important to Elias for them to not see each other, she would come to live with that no matter how much it crushed her in the process. 

The discussion turned down a path that Olive absolutely hated, but had to walk on for the sake of everyone else’s happiness around her. Olive hated disappointing anyone, and the idea that what her and Brock did behind Elias’s back was eating away at her, even if it felt right in the moment. She wanted more than anything to have given Brock her heart and faced Elias hoping that he cared enough about both of them as a friend to be happy that they were happy. But Brock unknowingly tossed the box with her heart in it out as soon as he dropped her hand earlier that afternoon, a clear sign that whatever this was that was developing between them wasn’t worth the risk, and Olive found herself reminded of why she usually left before letting her heart get wrapped up in someone else in the first place. 

She found herself laying there in bed and letting the tears fall silently down her cheeks as Brock sat there silent. It wasn’t fair in the moment, but she was so hurt by how quickly Brock had given up that she wanted nothing to do with him for at least a few hours. She just wanted to lay in her bed and cry, and then maybe pull out her notebook and scribble out all of the words that she had written about her falling in love with him.  

--------------

It was stupid really, how easily she let herself fall back into things with Brock after the trip in January. How quickly her lists became littered again with words that reminded her of him, each scribbled down in dark ink on various post-its littering the confines of the object that provided her the most sense of security. She wasn’t sure why she agreed to come up to the roof with him that night, why she felt like it would do anything but pull her heart apart more being up there in such a romantic setting when she knew that things between them could never fully transpire. But it was Brock, and all he had to do was smile at her a certain way and she would be there. She would hate herself for it, but Brock had always been just as close to her as she was to him, so even if it hurt that they couldn’t be together, she would allow herself to settle for being in his life in this capacity, because that was better than being tossed out of it completely. 

When Brock had called and insisted she came over, she at first thought something was wrong. It was nearing 10pm when he called, a time that if any other boy were to call her up at, most likely meant something else. But she knew Brock, and he whatever this was couldn’t have been a late night hook up call, because as far as she could tell, she was worth more to him than a short “you up?” text. So despite her still feeling wary of her relationship with him, she got in her car and drove the familiar route to his place, trying to conceal the mess that was her beating heart. 

Olive followed Brock up the familiar concrete steps, staying two paces behind him as they went toward the door to the roof access point. It wasn’t the first time they had been alone together since the disastrous cabin trip, where she had finally let herself be with Brock in the way that she had been wanting and writing about, only to have it torn apart before the ink could dry enough to not be smudged on the pages. She hated that she still felt this way about him. What hurt the most was that she had all of these words ready for him, but she never got to give him the most important one, the one that told him that she loved him. 

Love was a funny thing for Olive Burke, it was something that she read about for years, but never something that she longed for until she met Brock. Her past had been full of almosts, people that checked one too few boxes on the endless lists that she created as her standards. But Brock came into her life and simultaneously her heart, not just checking each box but completely blacking it out, only to end in them having to burn the list for the sake of those around them anyways. 

When she got to the roof, she nearly cried at what she saw. Brock had set out blankets and pillows and a bottle of wine, a classic scene for a date that she wished she could actually be on. He had thought of everything, even handing her an old sweatshirt of his to throw on over her thin flannel, his name embossed in white on the back. When she put the sweatshirt on she looked at Brock, a sad smile on both of their faces at the remembrance that this was something that could have been, but wasn’t. 

“There’s a comet tonight, in half an hour. That’s why I called,” Brock said. She hated how uncomfortable he sounded, how unsure he sounded after everything they had been through. That might have been the most painful thing about what had happened that snowy day in January, that she not only lost who she thought would be someone to love, but someone who had become one of her best friends. Part of her wished she had never come here to see him, the sense of it being a mistake that could only hurt her filling her thoughts, and the other part of her was ready to give up on the stupid reasons for them not being together. She took another moment to take in her surroundings as the realization hit her harder than the cool wind blowing on the rooftop. She loved Brock, she had fallen completely head first into love with him and yet he was painfully out of reach. 

She pushed some of the hair that was blowing into her face behind her ears as she looked at him, the first time she had truly been alone with him since the trip to the cabin. They never talked about what happened, instead she had picked up every time he called as she tumbled back into a seemingly good place with him, her words shifting out of heartache and back into those of a girl in love. She hadn’t seen him alone over that time from the cabin trip until now, each time it had been in a group setting and there was always someone acting as a buffer between them. 

“Things have just been weird between us, and I saw this and thought of you and, fuck Ollie, I really missed you.” Brock frowned, his words flawed because he knew that what he was saying didn’t make up for everything that had happened. Him missing Olive didn’t make up for the fact that he was still too much of a coward to just tell his friend that he didn’t care about his dumb rule. Olive bit her lip and looked up at the sky for a moment, before settling her eyes back on the boy in front of her. It hurt being with him, but it had hurt worse not being with him as a friend. She missed when he would bring her here after home games, the two of them always winding down with a few episodes of the show they were currently watching, or her telling him about the latest book she had read, him always listening and taking in the words she wildly spoke because he loved how passionate she was about each one. She missed Brock more than she let herself admit to.

“I missed you too, Brock. She said, pulling down the sleeves of her sweater. Olive reached for the bottle of wine that he had brought up to the roof, reading the label quickly as if that would buy her some time in this moment with Brock. She hated that she felt that same longing for him that she had tried to suppress after the cabin trip. She couldn’t handle the push pull of having him right in her hands and then being ripped away again. Her heart was still cracked from that night in January, and she was so sure that if she let Brock in fully again that it would end up shattered beyond repair on the ground, covered in the dust of her feelings for him. 

The two of them sat on the roof for a while sipping on the wine and looking out at the city and up at the sky. As the line of liquid in the bottle started to drift down, the conversation picked up and started flowing between them in a comfortable way. After the drinking had calmed some of the nerves from being alone with him again, she found herself slipping into the same habits with him as if that kiss hadn’t essentially ruined everything between them. It was nice to be back with him, and she let herself open up to him again, this time the mantra of “we’re just friends” steadily running through her mind. The bottle eventually ran out, and the words that were now flowing freely between them just kept getting deeper. 

“Why did they name you Olive?” Brock asked as the two of them continued in conversation, the night growing later and the breeze picking up around them. He knew they were slipping into dangerous waters, but he didn’t know how to stop it. He wanted to know everything about Olive that she was willing to give him, and as he sat here and listened to her talk about her family in ways she had never talked about them with him before, he found himself writing his own list of words to someday give to Olive, with love sitting comfortably in permanent marker on the first line. 

“I think that they thought if they named me Olive, it would somehow fix the problems in their marriage that they were too blind to fixing before having me. In a way, I was their olive branch, even if it didn’t last.” Brock listened carefully as Olive spoke, revealing something she rarely talked about with people. Olive had never known what love was supposed to look like from a real-life perspective, her parents separating when she was only two years old. All she knew was custody battles, and bitterness, and overnight bags as she was funneled back and forth between two incomplete homes, a future that she never wanted for the family she hoped to one day have. 

“Are you afraid of love?” The words slipped from Brock’s lips before he could stop them, a question that caused Olive to stop breathing for a few seconds, the loose threads of the flannel blanket suddenly offering her a welcomed and needed distraction while she raced through her mind about how to answer that question. The problem wasn’t that she was afraid of love, at least not at a surface level of the word, the problem was that her whole life revolved around it, yet she never truly understood what the feelings behind love meant. She closed her eyes for a moment, soaking in the cool air that was blowing through her hair that was down for once, something she subconsciously did before coming up here with Brock in hopes that maybe he would find her pretty enough for his affections.

Olive let her eyes flutter open and she turned her head away from him, breaking eye contact and looking out at the city illuminated softly in the background, curling her hands deeper into the old flannel blanket he brought up with them. Brock watched as she sighed softly, hoping that he didn’t overstep with his irresponsible question. 

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Olive said, voice barely above a whisper. She thought back to the kiss they had shared that day in January, knowing that in that moment love was something that for once wasn’t foreign to her. It was something that she saw and felt as she looked into Brock’s eyes right as he asked if he could kiss her. She loved Brock, and she had known that for a while now, its presence in her heart was heavy but steady. But this wasn’t that afternoon in January, this was a late night in February, and things were different. She didn’t get Brock in the end, even if the love she knew she was feeling for him had lingered past that afternoon in January.  

“Are you afraid right now?” He asked, the question penetrating the surface level of what was normal for a conversation between two people who had been dancing along the ledge of something more than either of them should have been doing. The late night phone calls, the subtle touches when they were together, the lingering, and the flashbacks of a kiss that they both seemed to avoid facing the reality of all added up to the affirmation that feelings were bubbling up to the surface, pushing them together in the very way they both promised their friend that they wouldn’t do. But, Brock wasn’t afraid and he knew how he felt about the girl sitting beside him from as soon as he saw her stumble into the bar with his best friend, crimson red on her lips, commenting on his shitty tasting beer. Olive’s personality was loud, she was so unapologetically herself. Her hair was always a mess, her scratchy handwriting present on sticky notes that he found everywhere in her wake. She was the definition of coffee that she had let get too cold for it to have possibly been any good, but he would still drink that coffee everyday if it meant Olive was there with him, reading beside him with her dark rimmed glasses perched at the end of her nose, hair thrown up messily on her head and he would do anything to feel her lips on his once more. 

“No, Brock. I’m not afraid when I’m with you.” She whispered, looking up at him, her eyes full of sincerity at the moment. It might have seemed too soon for anyone else, but something about Brock made her feel like she could breathe in a way that she never had before. The release of sharing her inner fears with someone who she found herself falling for with each passing day, the moment feeling heavy yet comfortable for her.   

Olive felt herself leaning in, the cool winds hitting her skin as she tried to focus on Brock. Her thigh pressed slightly against his, warmth spreading underneath the blanket that her hands held onto as Brock shifted slightly, lifting his hand to the side of her face. 

Time felt like it was slowing down, the stereotypical kiss that is shown in every rendition of the same romantic comedy, feelings bubbling to the surface as her eyelids fluttered shut and his lips inched closer. All she had to do was close the distance, and let herself fall safely into Brock’s waiting hands. But as she neared the line, Elias’s words echoed in her mind. His comment from that day at the cabin so many months ago, and she knew that no matter how badly her heart wanted Brock, she couldn’t betray her closest friend for the sake of her own heart’s desires.  

“Brock, wait.” She pulled back, pressing her hand softly to his chest. Brock opened his eyes slowly, and he almost wondered if the whole thing had been a dream. He felt his heart sink as her eyes cast downward, a familiar feeling of rejection pooling in his stomach. If he was being honest with himself, he knew what the next words out of her would be, but he wanted to live in the moment just a bit longer. He wanted to kiss Olive again, this time fully ready to confront his feelings even if it meant having to make their friend understand.  

“We shouldn’t.” Olive leaned back, creating a distance between them that felt colder than the air surrounding them. Brock didn’t know what to think other than that he wished for the circumstances to be something different than they were. He knew why they shouldn’t, and even if it was the right decision to stop before anything happened, it made him long for better timing, a parallel universe where perhaps he had met Olive first, not Petey, because if he had then maybe he could experience getting to know her without the cloud of influence that Petey had over their relationship that Brock felt like shouldn’t even matter anymore. 

“Right.” He smiled sadly, grasping onto hope that maybe Olive would be willing to try, despite the common denominator in the complicated equation being the one person that they both relied on. He knew it wouldn’t be right to go behind Petey’s back, especially when the warnings were constantly echoing in his ear, Petey’s predictions that Brock would only end up hurt in the end. As much as he liked Olive, he knew his closest friend was trying to help him guard his heart from being the piece of him that he had given away too easily many times in the past. 

Olive shivered slightly as Brock moved farther away from her, the moment of misjudgment passing quickly as they entered into the next serious topic of this moment that was starting to feel never-ending. She fought with her mind to come up with the right words to say to console her own heart and make Brock feel better, their connection so obvious to the both of them even if they couldn’t act on it. 

“He’s my best friend, Brock, and yours. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened and I came between you.” She gestured between them, guilt from accepting his offer to be on the roof swallowing her whole. She didn’t understand how something that felt so right in the moment, could also feel so wrong. She just kept envisioning Elias, disappointed, and hurt in her mind if he were to find out what they were doing behind his back. His two closest friends essentially betraying his trust.

Brock sat there mulling over her words, his heart in a physical fight with his head about what was worth risking at this point. He loved Petey, but he also knew that Olive was who he wanted. He couldn’t picture himself with anyone else, and she was here with him, on the roof with her legs pressed against his and her heart breaking right in front of him and he just wanted to put it back together for her. 

“Hey, I didn’t give you the word of the day.” Brock turned his head to look at her as she spoke, her tone light, as if she didn’t just take a seam ripper to his heart, carefully plucking the loose threads of her away from his chest. He nodded at her before returning his gaze to the city, the lights from the shiny glass skyscrapers illuminating across the water. 

“Ubiquitous: existing or being everywhere at the same time, constantly encountered,” Olive recounted, voice softening as she continued reciting the definition, a frown slightly developing on her lips. Olive looked at the boy beside her, the same one who had somehow become the person who was with her everywhere. Olive had spent so many years studying love, reading every classic she could get her hands on, analyzing the words written from someone’s deepest crevices of their hearts, and she could probably recite the likes of Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre by heart if she had to. But despite reading about the projection of love portrayed in literature for years, the actuality of it felt foreign and non transcribable even as it was sitting next to her looking out at the city. 

“Fuck, Ollie. I can’t pretend. I can’t just pretend I don’t know what it’s like to kiss you and what it feels like when I’m around you,” Brock sighed, taking Olive’s hands in his own as he looked into her eyes, seeing the panic reflected in them. 

“Brock, we can’t,” she tried. Her heart was racing and her head was screaming at her to stop, to not hear Brock out. But her heart was craving the comfort of being nestled with his and she felt like she was grasping onto his hands to prevent herself from falling off of the roof.

“Are you happy, Olive? With this between us? Or do you think about it? Me and you,” he asked. 

Olive bit her lip as she tried to stall, but she knew that she had her answer. 

“I want to be with you, but,” 

“Then fuck, why aren’t we together? Why does what Petey have to say matter? Why does anyone else matter? Fuck, Olive I like you so much. It’s worth the risk,” Brock pleaded. 

Olive pulled her hands from his and moved so that she was in his lap, her legs straddling either side of his. She was scared of everything that would happen as a result of the decision she was about to make, but she knew Brock would be there, holding her hand through it. Brock reacted quickly, sliding his hands up her thighs so that they were resting on her hips. 

“Let’s try,” she whispered with her forehead against his, her voice quiet but sure. Brock moved one hand to the nape of her neck, pulling her down to him and pressing his lips to hers. Her stomach was exploding with butterflies as her lips moved against his, the two of them closer together than they’d ever been. When they kissed in January it was fun, it was exciting and different until Elias had all but rained on their own little parade. But this kiss was something else, and Olive found herself falling even farther into Brock with each second that passed by, the consequences of their actions not mattering to her at all in that moment.  

--------------

When Olive had suggested an anti-valentines day party, she didn’t think that any of the boys would take her seriously. Most people wanted to be coupled up on Valentine’s Day, spending it with their partner and showering them with attention and gifts. Olive hated Valentine’s Day, she thought it was just a mother excuse to romanticize consumerism and make people who didn’t have a valentine feel shitty about it. So when Jake’s now ex-girlfriend broke up with him two weeks prior, and Petey mentioned him having a hard time with it, she suggested having an anti-Valentine’s Day party where everyone could just get wasted and be single. Jake was thrilled about the idea and offered up his house in Kelowna for the occasion. 

Olive and Brock had been sneaking around for months, but only weeks officially together and as they gathered with all of their friends, they were finding it hard to keep things hidden. Olive stood in the kitchen, Brock mixing them drinks in front of her. When he was finished, he came in close to her ear as he handed her the drink, his lips grazing her jaw softly and quickly as he spoke. 

“You look so fucking pretty, Olive.” She blushed as she took a sip of the concoction he had given her, laughing softly as he pushed him slightly away from her and looked around, hoping that no one caught the seemingly harmless moment between them. But Jake had seen it from across the room where he was sitting with Quinn and Elias, smirking softly at his two friends who clearly had something more going on than they were sharing.

“What’s going on with Brock and Olive?” Jake smirked, nodding toward the pair who were lost in their own little world, Brock and Olive slipping out onto the deck together, both of them blushing and giggling from likely more than the alcohol.  

“Nothing, they’re just friends. Sorry if you’re mad about it,” Petey shrugged, clearly annoyed by Jake and Quinn’s incessant meddling into Brock and Olive. Sure Elias could admit they were flirty, but Olive was just like that, it didn’t mean anything. He decided at that moment to get a new drink, needing some space from his idiotic teammates who clearly were reading into something that he felt wholeheartedly wasn’t there. 

Jake and Quinn shared a look before drifting their eyes out to the deck, where they could see Olive’s arms wrapped around Brock’s waist as they talked with each other. There were smiles on both of their faces that were recognizable as the type of grinning when you’re infatuated with someone and can’t see anyone else. Quinn laughed to himself a bit as he and Jake watched for a moment. 

“That kid is in denial, those two are either in love with each other or they’re just really bad at this whole anti-valentines day thing,” Quinn said, shaking his head slightly thinking about how quickly Elias shut the idea of anything down between them.

“To Brock and Olive, may Petey pull his head out of his ass soon,” Jake joked as he raised his beer toward Quinn’s, the two of them roasting before moving on from the conversation, Olive and Brock still oblivious to the happenings inside and they stood in their own little world where the population was just them. 

An hour later, Olive stood outside on Jake’s deck by herself, drink placed in her right hand, and a sad smile on her lips. She was looking out at the water, the calm, still dark blue water slightly illuminated by the moon and stars that shined much brighter than they ever did in Vancouver. Her mind was reeling with regret. Regret for suggesting this party, regret for going along with the whole theme, and most of all regret forever coming to that stupid dive bar night with Petey in the first place. She swirled the half-empty red cup of beer in her hand as she sighed. She was tired of the entire thing, the party, the dumb anti-valentines day jokes she had been cracking all night in an effort to bring at least a laugh to Jake after his horrible breakup, and most of all she was tired of pretending that she wasn’t hopelessly in love with the damn blonde boy standing just inside with his dumb smile, his dumb laugh, and his dumb pink shirt with a broken heart on the chest that coincidentally was pulled right from her own sleeve. 

The night had started off so well, the bitter liquid in her cup giving her more courage to be openly affectionate with Brock as the night progressed. She thought back to an hour before, where they were standing here in almost the same spot, his hand firmly against her waist as she swore he was going to kiss her again, taking the risk and finally just being with each other, no matter what their friends thought. But he didn’t kiss her, and instead, she was met with not only a heartache that felt familiar to that night in January when Brock had let her go so easily but another type of heartache as she realized that it was Elias, one of her closest friends, who was encouraging Brock to move on with someone else. 

Olive heard the slider door open behind her, Brock’s footsteps almost too recognizable for her even though she didn’t turn around, another thing she was growing tired of. The truth was that ever since she knew what kissing him felt like, her mind couldn’t think of anything else. She had already locked away the hurt that she felt that day he dropped her hand at Elias’s comment. And maybe it wasn’t entirely fair to blame the whole problem on Elias, but it sure felt like her heart was stuck in limbo with Brock’s, waiting for the approval of someone that shouldn’t have ever made them have to choose in the first place. 

“Ollie-“ Brock started, his voice was soft and slow as the familiar nickname rolled off his lips. Olive had never been one for liking nicknames, she actually loved her name, but each time it came from Brock she found her stomach flipping and heart beating in her throat over the abridged version of Olive.

“I’m fine, Brock.” She said, still facing the water unable to turn to see him. She didn’t want to look at him, not because of any of his own actions but because it was all too much. Having him behind her, having just a taste of him and then dropping the entire plate on the floor where it sat longer than any five-second rule would allow, and the fact that he was right there on this stupid holiday that she was pretending not to care about was simply overwhelming her and making her heart bend past its breaking point.

“No you’re not, and neither am I.” He said as his voice was cracking with each word.

Olive turned around slowly and took another sip of the now slightly warm beer in her cup as she waited for Brock to say whatever he had come out there to say. She didn’t want to hear it because of how badly she was currently hurting, the jealousy that she had no real reason to even be feeling was creeping in quickly and the longer he stood there looking at her, the more she wanted to snap. 

“Will you please just talk to me, Ollie?” Brock tried once more as he took a step closer to the girl he was so crazy about. The girl that would stay up until 2 am sometimes reading, the girl who’s hair was always a mess and couldn’t see very far without her glasses, the girl who was by all means too smart for him, each day sending him words that he didn’t understand. Words that she knew that made her think of him, words that he found himself missing each day that passed without one, the last one being from that day in January. 

“I heard you, talking about that girl Elias wanted to set you up with. And it sucks, okay? It sucks that I feel this way, it sucks that I have to sit here and be with you in secret while our best friend brings some girl for you, God, Brock, how am I supposed to feel about it?” Brock’s heart absolutely crashed in his chest hearing Olive breakdown like that, her voice growing quieter and quieter as she continued, a trait that was so unlike Olive that it brought him down even further knowing he was the one involuntarily causing pain. Brock reached out to her, pulling her closer to his chest and for once he didn’t care who could have been watching them through the glass door. 

“Olive it’s you. It’s been you. I told him I wasn’t interested, and I almost told him about us, but then I just froze and all I could hear was him saying that at the cabin, and I didn’t know what to do. I want to be with you, but,” Brock couldn’t continue, because if he did he would have to admit out loud that he had made a choice. A choice that left the girl in front of him, the one he cared about more than he thought he could ever care about someone, hurt. A choice that would all but tell her that his priorities were with his friend, no matter how badly it hurt. 

“Why can’t we just tell him?” Olive sniffled into Brock’s chest, the haziness of the alcohol finally hitting her as she shivered slightly from the wind. Brock rubbed her back sadly and rested his chin on the top of her head. He hated that he knew Petey so well. He knew how stubborn he was, he knew how much he cared, but no matter how many times Brock almost broke down, he just couldn’t shake Petey’s words about how dating your friends is a disaster, and how it would ruin the entire dynamic of the friendship, from his head. 

Olive pulled back from Brock when he didn’t answer, the warmth she once felt from his comfort now turning cold as she connected what he couldn’t bring himself to say back to her question. She chugged what was left of her beer, raising it in a toast more to herself than him as the alcohol she wanted to rid her of her sadness hit her even harder. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Brock.” She said, turning from him and about to step inside, leaving him out in the cold and alone. She froze with her hand on the door handle, turning around to face him one last time before leaving the party that night. 

“Shattered: broken into many pieces,” She smiled sadly as she walked back inside, not bothering to see his reaction as she left, a scene that so closely resembled her entire outlook on life lately, words of affirmation scribbled on lists becoming nothing but seemingly every word in the English language to describe heartache as the replacement. At least now he would finally know how she felt. 

She wandered a bit closer to the water, taking a seat on the grass as she looked out at the darkness. She knew she would have to go back to the house eventually, with that being her place to crash for the night, and she also knew that Brock hadn’t done anything wrong. But she was tired, the new and exciting part of being together wearing off with the crash into the reality of what it actually all meant. 

Olive shifted slightly as she felt someone sit down next to her, surprise evident on her face as Jake sat down and handed her a bottle of water. He looked at her knowingly, a sad smile on his face that she could tell wasn’t from his own recently broken heart. 

“Olive, what’s really going on with you and Brock?” Jake tried, his voice soft and tentative as she sighed in response. Olive felt herself tearing up, unsure if the alcohol was what was causing her to react this way or just the feelings that had been building up so long under an umbrella of lies.

“He’s my boyfriend, and Elias doesn’t know,” She said, tears brimming her eyes at how shitty she felt admitting that outloud to someone. Olive didn’t know how she let it get this far. She loved Brock, and while she wasn't ready to admit that entirely to him, she had enjoyed being with him. But you can only lie for so long before it all rips apart, and the guilt of lying to her best friend was starting to eat her alive. 

“Do you love him?” Jake asked, his question blunt and to the point. Olive nodded softly, tears spilling down her cheeks. Jake wrapped an arm around his friend, letting her cry on his shoulder. 

“Petey adores you, I know he’s a stubborn little shit but, we all know you and Brock are happy. It’s so obvious, he’s in denial, sure, but I think he’ll come around,” Jake reassured her softly. Olive continued to cry for a few moments, wiping her eyes softly when Brock came around the corner, taking in the scene. 

“Are you gonna be okay?” Jake asked. Olive nodded and patted his knee in response, wiping her eyes once more as Jake got up and Brock took his place. She waited to say anything until Jake was almost back up to the porch, out of earshot from them.

“I’m really sorry, Olive. I should have done more to stop him. I hate seeing you upset, especially if I had any part in making it that way.” Brock frowned, grabbing her hand and lacing their fingers together softly. Olive sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder, looking out once more at the water before answering him. 

“It’s not your fault, Brock. We got ourselves into this mess by not telling him.” She sighed. 

“So are we okay?” Brock asked, his voice quiet and tentative. Olive leaned up and kissed him softly, nodding wordlessly before leaning her head back onto his shoulder. They needed to tell Elias, but she also needed a little while longer to process everything and decide just how to do it without upsetting her best friend. 

--------------

Brock had always been dismissive about love, never questioning that he was young and lived a life that most other people wouldn’t want or be able to understand and grow accustomed to. He didn’t spend his time daydreaming about the future, and marriage, and kids, he had everything he needed and knew that his time would come when it was meant to. But as he sat there in late April with his black tie around his neck and his white shirt slightly wrinkled from being unable to work an iron, he watched as one of his closest friends stood at the altar. The white flowers surrounding the archway in the gazebo and the simple symphony of the wedding march was playing, but his only thoughts were of the girl who was most likely sitting in her apartment, glassed perched on the top of her nose, probably reading something far too complicated for him to understand and he wondered why he hadn’t just taken the leap of faith to invite her here to sit beside him. 

“I think Bo is going to cry,” the voice beside him spoke softly, a fond yet teasing tone to it, and Brock suddenly was lifted out of his own thoughts and painfully reminded why he couldn’t be here with Olive. Because of his best friend sitting next to him, who had practically begged Brock not to develop any feelings for the girl that he was so helplessly already falling for, a secret that had been destroying him to keep. 

He laughed softly at his friend, not bothering to give a verbal response because he was almost terrified of any words that were to come out of his mouth when his mind was so concentrated on what Olive would look like walking down the aisle to him, a thought that had his hands shaking and his heart shattering because he knew it would never happen. He knew if he wasn’t careful, he’d let it slip to Petey just how in love he was falling with Olive, Petey’s way too smart and way too beautiful for himself best friend. 

Brock checked his watch repeatedly as he watched Bo and Holly make the rounds to thank everyone for being there, knowing that as soon as they got to him he could get out of there as quickly as possible. He was feeling trapped, his airways blocked and his feelings growing steadily and he needed to leave the environment where people were celebrating the very thing he had come to the realization that he wanted. His phone vibrated in his pocket, startling him a bit. He reached his hand down, pulling out the device and seeing the name of the girl he had been dancing around all night. 

Ollie :) 

Serendipity: the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for. 

He didn’t have time to overanalyze what that meant, Olive’s word of the day that she had sent him this time doing nothing to calm him down, because he saw the three little dots moving, an indication that she wasn’t done unknowingly strengthening the unbreakable grasp she had on his heart. 

This one reminds me of you and me :)

He stood there, looking at the grey text on his phone and slowly lifted the champagne to his lips, knowing that he needed at least three more of these to get through the rest of the night after reading Olive’s words. It was painful in a way that he didn’t understand, how someone could be just within an arm’s reach, who he knew felt the same way about him, and yet they couldn’t act on it. He didn’t get to hold her hand, or kiss her whenever he wanted, and that not so gentle reminder had him reaching for flute after flute of the golden liquid, hoping to forget.  

Brock paced back and forth as he wandered into his bedroom, both of his dogs’ feet padding across the carpet behind him. He took off his suit jacket and undid his tie, tossing them too carelessly onto his closet floor considering how nice they were. His mind was racing ever since he left Bo and Holly’s wedding, his heart doing flips in his chest as he tried to push Olive from his mind, not so gently reminding himself just why he couldn’t have her. 

The last two years of Brock’s life he had been so focussed on his future, his career, pushing any thoughts of a meaningful relationship so far back that he tricked himself into thinking he didn’t want anything. When he met Olive, all of his apprehensions about the idea of love were tossed carelessly out the window as his heart started driving down the highway toward her. But the problem was, every time he got to the border between himself and Olive, it was like his passport was no longer valid and entry into what would have been something beautiful was denied. 

The worst part about it was that he was now wondering if the border would always be closed. No matter how mutual the feelings between him and Olive were, Petey was always there in the back of their minds, and it was hard for him not to wonder just how long things could realistically last between them as long as it was in secret. 

He dropped himself into his bed, patting softly at the dark comforter to signal the dogs to come up. He ran a hand softly through his hair, champaign still causing a light fog to clutter his mind, nothing else clear to him aside from how he felt about Olive. He thought back to earlier in the evening, watching Bo and Holly get married and his mind drifted to her, something that should have scared him but didn’t. 

If Brock were to be honest with himself, he knew that he and Olive could have something great, something that had the potential to end in life together. But this wasn’t a movie, it wasn’t a whirlwind of love that he could let himself get into, even though unbeknownst to him, he and Olive were both slowly drifting there anyways. Before any sober thought could stop him, he reached toward his bedside table and grabbed his phone, pulling up Olive without giving himself time to second guess if it was a good idea or not.   

“One too many drinks there, huh, Brockadoodle?” Olive smiled into her phone, turning it on speaker and setting it gently on her bedside table as she crawled into bed. She knew things were going too far, she was getting too close to Brock, and for the first time in a long while, she didn’t know how to stop it. The feelings had already crossed the moat surrounding her heart, and they were standing there with axes picking apart the walls that acted as the last barrier between letting Brock have her completely, where everyone could see it. 

Brock felt himself calm down at the sound of Olive’s voice, soft through the phone. He let the next few words tumble out without fear of their repercussions. He had been thinking about her all night, so much so that if he didn’t get it off of his chest, the cavities of his heart might completely collapse. 

“I wanted to bring you tonight.” Brock started, words softer than his tone from before, a hint of emotion underneath them that Olive knew too well. “Brock..” she tried, unsure of how to console him when she had been thinking about being on his arm all night. Olive couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t hurt; she wasn’t there with him, feelings that she had no right feeling about someone who couldn't have taken her as his date anyways. She was starting to grow concerned for her well-being, wondering how far she and Brock could tiptoe around these feelings that seemed to get more and more complicated as the months passed. It should have been simple, they should have been able to be together, but sometimes what a person wants doesn’t line up with reality. 

“No, let me finish, please.” He sighed. Olive couldn’t see what he was doing, she could only hear the desperation in his voice. Brock laid in his bed, his dogs lovingly at his feet, and he should have been content. But the side of the bed next to him was nagging him, an emptiness that never bothered him before Olive. He ran a hand over his face, eyes slightly blurring from the overload of far too expensive champagne that he drank at the wedding, hoping to replace the empty feeling of her hand not in his with the glass instead. 

“I wanted you there, I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked in your dress, and hold your hand during the ceremony. I wanted to have you there next to me, and I don’t know if it’s the dramatics of being at a wedding getting to my head, or if any of this even makes sense, but I just was watching Bo and Holly have their first dance and all I could think about was you.” Brock knew he was too much, the feelings he had been trying to keep at bay from someone who he was supposed to just be friends with, no matter how wrong it felt bubbling up like the champagne that he drank just hours before. 

Olive felt herself stop at his words, her labored breath filling the space as she waited for him to continue. She grabbed her phone, pulling it off the speaker as if the ghosts in her bedroom were listening anyways. 

“I want to kiss you no matter who sees us so badly, Olive. I think about it all the time.” 

Olive took her time, attempting to process the words that had just stumbled from his mouth. She focused on the tenor of his voice, the voice that she loved to listen to talk about anything and everything and here it was, whispering words through an over priced cell phone that was pressed tightly to her ear as she held it in her hands. She couldn’t breathe, the weight of what he had just said stunning her so badly that all she could do was breathe softly, willing herself to answer him. She never had time to think about the consequences of what they were doing, instead focussing on the good things about being together even if it was in secret. As Brock drunkenly told her these things, her heart filled with guilt over it all, wondering how they could feasibly continue this for much longer, no matter how much that realization cut her. 

“Olive?” Brock whispered, wondering if he had gone too far. Olive hates the uncertainty in his voice but she hated even more that her silence was the cause of it.

“I’m here, Brock,” was all she could manage in that moment. She heard him softly sigh in the background then some shuffling on the other end. 

“Do you feel it too? Or am I alone here?” 

“I feel it too, Brock. You know I do.” 

--------------

“I don’t understand why you didn’t want to bring a date, you were the only one there without one” Petey shrugged toward Brock, referring to the Bo and Holly’s wedding that had occurred just days prior. 

Brock was practically fuming at his friend whom he loved dearly but could be so completely dense. He didn’t think Elias was stupid, but how could he really be asking Brock that question when he had to have known how badly Brock wanted to bring Olive the wedding. He was trying to calm himself down, to not let his feelings get the best of him, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how simple this all could be if Petey could just get over his damn stubbornness about Olive and Brock dating.

“Well, I probably would have had a date if you hadn’t have insisted I stay socially distanced with Ollie at all fucking times,” he snapped at his friend. He didn’t look at Petey’s reaction as he walked into the kitchen to catch his breath, replacing his empty beer bottle with a fresh one from the fridge, opening it quickly and drinking a large portion of it. 

Elias sat there with a look of apprehension and annoyance on his face, still not understanding why his requests were making him out to be the bad guy. Brock and Olive were friends, the group dynamic was great, why did it have to be more when it was fine already? 

“You guys are just friends,” Petey waived him off and Brock swore he felt his eye twitching with how irritated he was growing. 

“We’re not just fucking friends, we were practically together until you came in with your ‘I’m so glad you’re not dating’ bullshit and we stopped,” he spat out. Brock was tired of the secrets, he was tired of keeping his feelings for Olive to himself, and he was tired of Petey dictating his love life when he should just be happy for him. 

Petey’s mouth hung open slightly in shock at Brock’s outburst. The words hung over him as he went through what Brock could be talking about, anger bubbling up in him at the idea of Brock and Olive, his two closest friends, hooking up behind his back.

“Did you sleep with Olive?” His eyes narrowed at Brock. 

“No, but we kissed. And, fuck Petey I really like her, and she really likes me. I don’t understand why you’re so weird about it and why you can’t just be happy for us. I’d be happy for you,” Brock groaned, leaning slightly on the counter as he finished his beer, shaking his head slightly. In a weird way it felt good to get some of it out, even if most of what he was saying was a lie. They didn’t just kiss, they had been together for months at this point and here he was lying to his best friend about it, hoping that maybe if he expressed his frustrations enough that Petey would come around and they could just be together in front of him. 

“Well why does it have to be Olive?” Petey asked. Brock couldn’t believe his friend, and he was one minute from asking him to leave because he was making him so frustrated at the situation. In Brock’s mind this was simple, but Petey had this way of making things so complicated simply because he didn’t want things to be awkward between everyone. 

“I don’t know, Petey. I can’t help how I feel. I wish you’d just come around because this sucks for both of us. I’m unhappy, she’s unhappy. I want to be with her man, she’s everything I could ever want. You know who I call after every game? Olive. You know who knows everything about my family? Olive. She’s even met them, she met my dad, Petey and he fucking loved her! He still asks about her. I don’t even care about other girls, I haven’t since I met her. I just want her.”

“So you’re in love with her then?” Petey inquired, deciding to ignore everything else that Brock had just said. Brock paused, new beer in his hand as he had almost a stare down with his friend. He took a moment to go through his options, knowing that as soon as Petey said that he knew it was true. He did love Olive, and he might not have realized it but as soon as the words left Petey’s mouth he knew. He knew that everything had been building with Olive, she had written her way into his heart and he was a willing participant, accepting her words and rewriting them with his own pen. Brock may not have been an avid reader, but Olive was the best book he’d ever read. 

“Yeah, Petey, I do.” He admitted, voice softening, and heart breaking slightly because he wasn’t sure if that would even make a difference at this point. 

“Oh.” Was all that Petey replied, his eyes cast down and guilt pooling in his stomach. 

Petey thought about what Brock had said for days, he couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that he was the reason for their unhappiness. He also felt a bit dense for not seeing the signs that they had something developing between them. He spent the next few days avoiding Brock as much as he could. He showed up to practice after he knew Brock would be on the ice, and he stayed until he knew Brock had left, with Brock making no effort to talk to him either. It wasn’t just Brock he avoided though, as he carefully dodged all of Olive’s texts and phone calls, to the point where each time his phone rang he flinched, wondering if it would be one of them. 

Brock knew Elias was ignoring him, but he honestly didn’t care anymore. He didn’t tell Olive about the argument he had with Petey, instead he focussed on being a support system for her as she worked through studying for her finals. He was almost thankful for her being busy, it was giving him time to think and hopefully work through everything with Petey so that by the time she was done, they could finally be together and have Petey okay with it all. 

Brock picked up the small notebook, the leather slightly worn under his fingers and the binding not perfect from being handmade. He remembered when Olive gave this to him. He remembered everything about her that day, how she insisted he wait to open it until she left with a soft blush on her cheeks, how she looked at his nephew with a look in her eyes that made him practically want to marry her right there, and how his dad adored her even after meeting her for not even five minutes. He remembers opening the book and nearly crying at her words, every word that she had given him before. It was something that was so simple yet said so much at the time that he wasn’t able to read until now. He was in love with Olive, and he was ready to tell her that and stop hiding it. 

As Brock was flipping through the worn pages, some of them with tea stains, some with scribbled out words, a small folded up piece of paper fell to the ground. He knew that he missed it the first time he looked through this book, and he slowly reached down to grab it from the floor. He held the piece of scratch paper up, reading each word and definition carefully, part of him feeling guilty for reading something that seemed personal, even if it had his own name on it. He smiled at each word, fondly appreciating Olive’s anecdotal word of the day that she would give him without fail, everyday. His eyes were caught on the last word, sending him into a headspace that hadn’t felt this clear in a long time.

Enamored: in love. 

He read and re-read that word over and over again, his heart pounding thinking about her saying this to him. Suddenly all of the words over the last few months became clear to him, the realization of each one being her way at telling him that she loved him, without having to actually say it. It all made sense now, and Brock didn’t care about Petey’s words anymore, he didn’t care that Olive might hurt him, because he knew that it wasn’t true. Olive wasn’t incapable of giving her heart to someone, she had already given it to him in the way that she knew best, through words. He didn’t care what anyone else thought anymore, he was going to be with Olive fully, no matter what Petey had to say about it. 

Across town, Olive set her glass carefully on the coffee table as she heard someone knocking on her front door. Elias was sitting still on the couch, only lifting his head up slightly when he heard the knock. Olive just shrugged her shoulders and walked over to her front door, peeking through the peephole only to be met with confusion by what she saw. 

“Who is it?” Elias inquired, his hand still scrolling through his phone absentmindedly. 

Olive didn’t answer her friend, instead, she opened the door to reveal a floral delivery man who had a cart full of what she assumed was more flowers than any regular person needed. Olive stared at the man for a moment, thoughts racing through her mind as she tried to come up with an excuse about the flowers that she could already guess were from Brock. Her stomach bubbled with anxiety as she carefully signed her name on the packing slip, stepping aside to let the man carry not one, but twelve bouquets into her kitchen. 

Elias looked up in confusion, setting his phone down on the coffee table and wandering up to the counter toward a bouquet that had a card. Olive panicked, it was like time was moving at a glacial pace, and she was stuck in the pathway between the delivery man and Elias, knowing that her friend was going to get to the card that was likely from his best friend first. 

“Do you have a boyfriend you haven’t told me about?” Elias teased, grabbing the card in his hands and opening it. Part of him was hoping the answer would be yes, and that it would be someone other than Brock but the other part of him was starting to realize he could no longer live in a perpetual state of denial when it came to his two friends. It normally wouldn’t have been weird, and Olive wouldn’t have minded that her friend saw what was on that card if the circumstances were any different. She felt helpless as she saw Elias’s smirk turn into a frown as he read whatever was written, and all hopes of the flowers somehow not being from the boy she had grown so fond of dissipated with his frown. 

Olive watched Elias carefully as he set the card down, his lips slightly pursed while he looked at her. She felt her chest caving in, preparing herself for him to be furious with her. She and Brock had completely crossed the line of exactly what her best friend standing in front of her had asked her not to, and seeing the way he frowned at the card broke her in a way she didn’t think was possible.

Olive never wanted to hurt Elias, and her intentions that night so many months ago at the bar were to never get involved with Brock. But as she had come to realize, intentions don’t matter when the outcome hurts someone and seeing Elias’s somber expression had her mind reeling with regret. 

Elias just shook his head, walking slowly back to the couch where he sat back down, the silence in the room was noticeable, and Olive found herself realizing just how badly she had messed things up. Olive glanced at the flowers, sighing softly at the card that was resting on the counter, Brock’s handwriting visible from where she was standing. 

“You should read it,” she heard from behind her. Elias’s voice was soft and sincere, an emotion present that she wasn’t able to read. She looked from the card back to her friend, willing herself to read what Brock had written for her.

I’m enamored with you, Ollie.

B. 

Olive felt her eyes well up with tears at his words, running her fingers softly over the ink on the card before setting it back down on the counter. 

“Elias…” she tried, unable to stop her voice from shaking.

“How long have you and Brock been together?” He asked, his voice soft but steady, almost no emotion behind it, which somehow made everything feel worse. Elias was never cold toward her, in all the years they had known each other, nothing had ever come between them. But now, with everything that her heart was feeling toward his best friend, she felt like she was sitting in a room screaming, with the house on fire around her as she watched each relationship burst into flames around her. 

“Since February” was all she managed to say, her body frozen in place as she studied his face for any sort of reaction that she could read. There was no point in lying to him anymore, it was time to face the reality of the situation and confess to Elias what was going on. He cared about Brock and Olive, and she could only hope that by seeing how happy they were together that he would be happy for them. 

“So you both have just been lying to everyone this whole time.” There it was, the coldness in his voice that she was dreading, her eyes immediately looking away from his. She knew he was mad, and to be honest, he had every right to be because even if she and Brock weren’t together, they were very clearly and undeniably something more than friends, a confirmation that she could no longer hide from or deny. 

“It’s not like that, it's just, I don’t know Elias. I didn’t mean for it to happen, and then it did and you were just so against it. We were going to tell you, when we kissed in January and then you just made that comment and we decided to stop. But, I don’t know Elias.” Olive sighed, looking over at her friend with tears in her eyes, desperately trying to convey to him what she was feeling even though the words themselves weren’t coming out. She had never seen him look so disappointed toward her, something that she hated she was the cause of. 

“You love him,” Elias nodded and Olive froze. She knew she loved Brock, and seeing his note meant that he loved her back, something that she had spent years longing to find but convincing herself that she didn’t need. Brock had come into her life and completely checked off every cliche list of things as he swept her off of her feet, crashing her heart into his in a way that had for so long been this secret that they couldn’t admit to each other or anyone else. All she could do in that moment was look at Elias with a glint in her eye and an open heart and nod, confirming his observations that she did indeed, love his charming, goofy, wonderful best friend, Brock Boeser. 

Elias watched his best friend from across the room, mixed emotions in his heart, and various thoughts racing through his mind. He wanted Olive and Brock to be happy, he loved both of them, but he couldn’t shake the sense of hurt he felt knowing it had all been behind his back. He also knew that his own warnings had been what was keeping them from being together, and as he looked at Olive with her heart on her sleeve, he felt the guilt rising at being the one responsible for preventing her own happiness. 

“I’m sorry,” Elias shook his head, trying to find the words to say to his friend that would make up for this mess, the mess that he was ultimately the cause of for his own selfish reasoning. Elias paused for a moment, looking over at Olive before sighing softly.

“I’m glad he didn’t listen to me, though. I know I fucked it up, but I’m happy that you both are happy,” He said. Olive tilted her head slightly at him, a curious expression on her face at his words.

“What do you mean?” She replied. 

“I told him you’d crush him.” Elias said. It was so quiet that Olive almost didn’t think she heard him correctly. She didn’t think she concretely understood the words that just came from his lips, because the Elias she knew would never say those things about someone that he cared about and when it hit her that he didn’t want them to be together so badly that he would say something like that to Brock, she felt the anger rise in her stomach. 

“God, Elias. You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to say those things about me,” Olive said. She stood up from the couch and began to pace back and forth between her couch and the kitchen. Her mind was reeling, and all she wanted to do was kick Elias out and not speak to him ever again. Olive felt like a fool for not seeing that this was how her best friend truly thought of her, as someone who was only capable of causing heartache to others. 

“You think I’m not capable of love, that I’m just some bookworm living in her own head about the idea of love. Maybe that was true back then, but at least I tried. I let Brock into my heart in the only ways I knew how, falling in love with him yet stopping myself because of you. I spent all this time not wanting to come between you and it turns out you sold me out to him as someone he should never love, because people who have a harder time I guess aren’t capable of it at all, right?” 

“Olive, I didn’t-“ Olive cut him off harshly.

“It doesn’t matter, you still said it. You’re my best friend, Elias, but I’m clearly not yours.” The tears were steadily flowing down her cheeks and her head was starting to pound from everything that was happening. She hated that it was blowing up in this way. She hated that her heart was breaking from potentially losing one of the best friends she ever had, but she mostly hated that he ultimately was right in his assumptions, because she didn’t see how her and Brock could continue to be together now that the truth was out. 

Elias knew he fucked up. He knew his mistakes had cost two of the people he cared most about heartache, and while he didn’t know that Brock had said that to Olive until she threw it in his face, he knew that there was no way his friend didn’t mean it. Brock was absolutely in love with Olive, the kind of love that you think only exists written on pages for others to live through vicariously, and he knew for all the months he had been keeping them apart for his own selfish reasons, he needed to fix it.

“Do you want to tell me about him?” Elias smiled, trying his best to show her that he was sorry and that he regretted what he had done. Elias was never good with words, he overthought everything that ran through his head and it more often than not ended with feelings unsaid. He didn’t want to hurt Brock or Olive, and he let his mind swindle him into thinking that if they were together it would somehow ruin the dynamic of their friend group. He knew it was selfish, and it was long overdue that Elias did something selfless instead. 

Olive looked over at her friend, shocked a bit by his change in demeanor. She bit her lip softly, unsure of how to react to his question because she did want to talk about Brock. She had been wanting to tell Elias for months just how happy his best friend made her feel, how she had never thought anyone would understand her in the ways that he had so easily. 

“Elias, that’s not going to fix it.” She whispered. 

“I want to hear about it, I want you to be happy Olive,” Elias said, softly nodding towards the space next to him on the couch. As Olive was about to start telling Elias everything, the familiar sound of her FaceTime ringtone started going off. She glanced toward her phone that was sitting in front of Elias on the coffee table, seeing Brock’s name and photo lighting up the screen. She shook her head slightly at Brock’s timing but then furrowed her brow at Elias’s soft reaction to seeing the name on the screen. 

Elias picked up the phone, handing it over to Olive as she stared at it ringing in her hands, letting the call lapse. She unlocked her phone and carefully texted the boy in question, letting him know she would call him back in a while before setting the device screen down onto the table. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” She said, putting her head in her hands. 

“Well, how did it start?” Elias tried, a genuine soft smile on his face as he encouraged Olive to start speaking. Olive recounted everything to Elias, feeling the weight of secrecy lifting from her chest. It felt good to share these things with him, to tell him the little things over the past few months that she had wanted to share with him about Brock. 

“I do love him, Elias, and I’m sorry that things happened this way and I’m sorry we didn’t tell you but, I don’t want to hide it anymore. It’s not fair.” Olive cried, her voice shaking slightly from the emotions that she was feeling. That was her first time admitting those feelings about Brock out loud and she hated that these were the circumstances that brought them on. 

“You should go tell him, Ollie.” Petey smiled, getting up and grabbing his coat so that she could leave. Olive watched carefully as he wandered toward the door,

“You spent so long keeping this from me, trying to keep me comfortable when you shouldn’t have needed to. You’re my best friend and I’m sorry. But, you should go to him, tell him how you feel. He’s more important than us right now,” Elias said as he opened her front door and stepped out. 

It took Olive all but five minutes to throw on her shoes and grab her keys. Her hair was a mess, her head hurt from crying and she felt like a wreck, but none of it mattered. None of it phased her as she climbed into her car and thought about how she was going to tell Brock that she loved him for the first time, and that they didn’t have to hide things anymore. 

Brock opened the door and Olive stood there in front of him. Her eyes brimmed with tears that he could see through the rims of her glasses, strands of her hair were falling out of the messy ponytail that sat at the nape of her neck. He looked down to her hands, seeing the card sitting in her fingers, the chipped nail polish a sign that she had been upset. 

“Olive,” he started, and she cut him off, waving the card up to eye level as she spoke.

“Did you mean this?” She asked, her voice cracking and fresh tears falling down her cheeks. She bit her lip as she waited for a response, her own emotions overflowing with each second that ticked by. Olive was by all accounts no stranger to the idea of love, but rather she was constantly a bystander in the stories that depicted the tragedies and greatness of it all. But here she was, standing in front of the first boy she ever truly loved, hoping that for once she wouldn’t be a bystander. 

“Of course I did,” Brock said, reaching out to grab her hands softly as he led her inside and closed the door. The dogs ran to Olive’s side, another reminder of one of the many things he loved about her coming into view as she knelt down and greeted them, the first smile he had seen from her since she knocked at his door. 

“Then why didn’t you say it instead of sending it in a card?” She asked.

“Because I’m a fucking idiot.” Olive scoffed at his sentence and Brock panicked, realizing he picked the wrong choice of words to convey how he felt. 

“Olive, I’ve been in love with you for months, since New Year’s Eve when you spilled a bottle of champagne all over your dress. I almost told you after Bo’s wedding when I called you in the middle of the night and told you I wanted to kiss you like a drunk idiot. You’re my favorite person, and nothing involving stupid petey and his stupid fucking rule changes that. I don’t care about petey I don’t care if he’s mad, I just want you, Olive, if you’ll have me” Brock was laying it out as clearly as his could, the words rushing from his mouth as he desperately reached out trying to hang onto the hope that what he and Olive had wasn’t lost because of his mistake. 

Olive walked to Brock slowly, tears still rolling down her cheeks at the overwhelming emotions she was walking through. Each step she took felt like another word scribbled down in her notebook, another checkbox filled about the boy that consumed almost all of her thoughts. He was everywhere around her, in her heart and mind, in her readings and coursework, and in that little blue notebook that used to be about her life but was now filled with words, each one a synonym for how much she loved Brock. 

Olive reached her hands up to Brock’s cheeks, his slightly grown out beard course against her hands in the best way as she pulled his head down to hers, crashing her lips to his for the first time since January. It was different this time, this kiss was harsher, deeper, and this time she knew that when she let him go he wouldn’t actually be going anywhere, they could be happy. 

Brock reacted instantly to the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and pushing her back to the wall. When they pulled apart they both were breathless, Olive’s lips tinted a slightly darker shade as she put one hand on his chest, feeling the best of his heart. 

“I love you, Olive. That’s yours.” He looked down to his chest then back at her, wiping some of her tears away as he held her tightly. 

“I feel like we’ve wasted so much time,” Olive sniffled, wiping her eyes but smiling. Brock was hers, and it felt like she had been waiting a lifetime for him. To have him right there but just out of reach for months had more than taken its toll, but the weight that was slowly evaporating from her shoulders was freeing. She had Brock, she hadn’t lost her best friend, and she felt like she was no longer floating around waiting for the idea of love to catch her. It had, and it was standing in front of her, hands on her hips, his heart beating under her own hands. 

“But we’re here now.” Brock smiled, leaning down to kiss her once more. He couldn’t believe this was happening and that he could be with Olive wholly. He didn’t even know if Petey knew she was here but he didn’t care. He was tired of letting a stupid rule dictate their happiness, and Petey would just have to get over it if he was mad still because he had no intentions of letting Olive slip through his fingers again. 

“I have one last word for you, or phrase really,” Olive said as she tugged softly on Brock’s hair with one hand, the other still firmly pressed over his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her fingertips. He nodded at her, smiling fondly while he waited for her to continue.

“Unapologetically in love, which I think needs no definition,” she grinned, watching as Brock smiled once more, this time against her lips as he kissed her again. His hands planted firmly on her hips, sliding his fingertips just underneath her sweater to feel her soft skin as the kiss deepened, something that was long overdue for the both of them. His hands slid up further, fingertips dancing along the skin just underneath her bra. 

“Brock,” Olive whined against his lips, shifting her body even closer to his.

“Yeah?” He murmured, his head dipping to her neck, pressing soft, but open kisses there, his breath hot on her throat.

“Bed,” she demanded, not having to tell Brock twice as he pulled his hands from her sweater, lacing his fingers through hers to lead her back into his bedroom. 

Everything slowed down as Olive started pulling off her sweater, with Brock kissing her firmly as his hands reached down to the top of her leggings, fingertips on fire at the touch of her skin. She tugged on the hem of his shirt, breaking apart to pull it over his head and then leaning back down onto the bed. Brock hovered above her as they kissed again.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Olive,” He whispered as he looked at her. They had been together before, but seeing her in his bed, in front of him, and being able to tell her that he loved her made everything feel different and  he was ready to savour every second of it. He peppered kisses all down her neck and chest as his hands wandered down her body, slowly sliding the leggings off as she picked up her hips. 

Sex with Brock had always been good, but something about the way it felt with his hands on her this time, and they way he knew every dip and inch of her body, knowing that he loved her made it that much better. Olive had never been one to put that much weight into sex, it was something that she enjoyed but never let herself get attached to the person she was with. This felt different, his was the person that she was completely in love with, and everything felt like it had fallen into place as she wrapped her legs around him while he moved. She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him as she felt herself getting close underneath him. 

Brock slipped out of her as they both finished, slightly out of breath as he threw on sweats while he walked to the bathroom, returning with a warm towel and one of his shirts for Olive to wear as he helped her clean up. He kissed her forehead softly as he handed her the shirt, climbing back into bed as she put it on and retreated into the bathroom, returning a few moments later with a lazy but beautiful smile on her face. 

Olive crawled into bed and rested her hand softly on Brock’s bare chest, her head falling so that it was leaning against his shoulder, the words from minutes before hanging over her head, replaying in her mind as she felt her cheeks heat up from the thoughts of him consuming her. She could hear the rain that was now coming down outside, and the room was getting dark from the sun beginning to set. 

Brock placed a kiss to her head, her hair unruly from his hand that had been in it only moments prior. He thought about how beautiful she looked in that moment, a soft smile on her lips that were slightly puffed up from kissing, cheeks still flushed. She looked up at him, her smile growing in the moment.

“Can I tell you I love you again?” She said, voice quiet and unsure, something that Brock noticed. Olive was loud and carefree, she didn’t question her feelings or emotions unless they meant something to her. Brock knew how she felt because he had felt that way about her for months now. It was out in the open, and he wanted nothing more than to tell the girl he loved just how much he loved her all the time and hear it back.

“You can tell me you love me anytime you want, Olive.” He said, eyes focussed on her as her cheeks heated up even more. He grabbed her hand that was on his chest and thread his fingers through hers as he adjusted his body to hover over hers, pressing his lips firmly to Olive’s once more that afternoon. 

“I love you, Brockadoodle,” Olive smirked, causing Brock to laugh softly as he hung his head into her neck, his hand squeezing hers gently.

“I love you too, Ollie.” 

--------------

Days turned into weeks as things shifted into a new normal. Brock and Olive were finally together, completely out in the open for everyone to see. Elias had apologized and fixed things with the both of them, missing his friends and feeling awful that he had unintentionally hurt them for so long. It was now summer and Olive had just gotten back from spending a time in Minnesota with Brock, meeting his family officially as his girlfriend. She felt at ease for the first time in almost a year, she had her friends, she had Brock and now she was starting summer classes to help knock how more of her graduate degree. 

Olive wandered around the second floor of the library with a cold coffee in her hands. She was growing slightly impatient as she looked around for an empty table, groaning internally about why there didn’t seem to be any open spots this time of the year. It was early July, and no one usually took summer classes. She felt her gaze settle on a pretty redhead as she came up with an alternate plan, knowing that she needed to be in the library to focus or she would end up on FaceTime stupidly smiling at her boyfriend much before their scheduled time to talk that night. 

She walked quickly over to the table, the pretty redheaded girl looking up at her wide eyed as she stood across from her.

“Can I sit here? I promise I’ll be quiet and I have snacks I can offer as bribery,” Olive smiled, putting on what she hoped was her friendliest face as the girl looked at her inquisitively. 

“Uhm, sure,” she nodded slightly before settling back into her book. 

Olive sat down and carefully started pulling her materials from her bag. She was doing her best to be quiet, not wanting to disturb the pretty girl in front of her. She let her eyes slip up and connect awkwardly with hers. 

“I’m Olive,” she smiled, trying again to break the ice in hopes that it truly was okay that she was sitting here.

“Autumn,” the girl replied. 

Olive continued arranging her things, combing through her notebook for the page where she left off so that she could resume her reading notes. Autumn watched her carefully as she did so, seeing Olive’s egregious amount of sticky notes with black ink scribbled all over them. She looked over at the book that Olive pulled out, more sticky notes visible from the sides of it. Autumn looked down in front of her, nothing there except for a pen and the short bullet points scribbled on her own arm and she immediately felt the contrast between them. When she looked back up, she noticed that Olive was now holding the same book that she was currently sitting with. 

“Are you in the contemporary poetry writing class too?” Olive looked up at Autumn, her small voice surprising her as she looked over at the book the redhead was currently holding in her hands. She hadn’t yet been to the class, having missed the first week of summer courses because she went home with Brock to meet his family properly, so she couldn’t have seen Autumn before. 

“Yeah, are you?” She asked, a friendly tone in her voice. 

“Mhm, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you, it’s a pretty small class,” Autumn was surprised at how forward she was being, she wasn’t normally one to be talkative with people she didn’t know. But she was new to Vancouver, and finding common ground with someone who had at least given her the impression that she was nice might not be a bad idea. She had been so excited to move here for school, escaping her hellish small town where everyone pathetically needed to one up each other with some trivial small town mindset. She hated how no one there seemed to want to leave, even though every last one of her peers from home were shallow minded and would do anything to cure some of the boredom that came from never leaving. 

‘Oh, no I missed last week. I was in Minnesota with my boyfriend,” Olive smiled, thinking to herself about Brock and how it had only been a few days and she missed him. Her time in Minnesota was short but sweet. Brock’s family was incredibly important to him and she knew how close they were, so meeting them formally and as his girlfriend instead of just in passing had been nerve racking. Brock could ignore Elias’s now non-existent objections, but if his family didn’t like her she knew that it would be a deal breaker for them. 

“Oh, is he from there?” Autumn asked, setting her book down. She could see on Olive’s face how much she lit up at the mention of this boy she was with. She was doing her best to not be shy, to try and make conversation with Olive and hopefully at least have a study partner for their shared class. Autumn was never great at making friends, her thoughts were often internal and she was quiet, and she was normally okay with that. She was an observer and liked to take in the world around her with her own thoughts, coming up with backstories for strangers in her head. But something about Olive was inviting, and she found herself wanting to hear her instead of imagining her story. 

“Yeah, but he lives here for work. He’ll be back in a few weeks though. Hey, you should come out with us. He and our friend Elias have this dive bar night tradition when they get back in town. The bar they pick is usually terrible, but the drinks are cheap and the company is great. 

Autumn was caught off guard at the invitation, but found herself wanting to accept anyways.

“Okay,” she smiled, picking her book up once more and beginning to read. 

Brock had only been back home in Minnesota for a few weeks, but he found himself counting down the days until he could go back to Vancouver. Normally he loved going home, spending everyday on the lake and with his family. But this year it was different, this year he had someone waiting for him in Vancouver, and while he loved being home he knew that his heart was nestled into that small brick studio apartment, tucked safely right on the kitchen table next to a days old mug of coffee and a list that was probably far too scattered for him to even understand, Olive guarding it safely as she worked on the latest project or deadline she had to meet. 

One thing that had been getting him moderately through was their nightly calls, always at the same time, and always ending with both of them falling asleep together over FaceTime. Technology had given them an avenue to still be together, even if it wasn’t physically. 

“I’m so ready for you and the dogs to be back, I feel like I’m going insane here in my apartment now that summer term ended and you’re not here,” Olive smiles into her phone, Brock looking back at her fondly. He had just spent the afternoon on the lake, and his nose was slightly burnt, something that Olive teased him about. Truth be told, he couldn’t wait to be back either, this time for different reasons than the previous years. This year he had someone to come back to, and all he wanted to do was get back into the city and back with his girl. 

“Do you miss me or just the dogs?” He laughed, flipping the camera to show both Coolie and Milo at his feet. 

“Mostly them, but I do miss you too. Oh, speaking of, can I invite someone to dive bar night? I found a place too,” Olive asked as Brock flipped the phone back so that he was showing, now running a hand through his slightly damp hair. 

“Sure? You have a new boyfriend you’re not telling me about?” He joked. 

“No, but I met this girl that I think Elias would like. Brock, she’s like so pretty. Like so absolutely gorgeous, way prettier than Elias and he’s pretty. She’s a redhead though, does he even like redheads? I also kind of already invited her, so if you say no well then that’s tough shit for you,” She started rambling about Autumn, the girl who she had quickly become nearly best friends with in the short time that they had known each other. 

“God Brock, they’d be perfect. They both think too much, it’ll be great. Elias will probably hate her clothes but he can get over that. Did I mention she’s absolutely stunning?” Olive added. 

“Oh my god,” Brock laughed at Olive on his screen, “She’s not prettier than me right? Not going to leave me and build a little bookshop somewhere with her? He joked. 

“I mean if Elias doesn’t go for her, it’s not a bad idea, maybe I should ask her…” Olive trailed off. 

“You’re not even bi, calm down.” Brock teased.

“Sexuality is fluid Brockadoodle, especially when it’s pretty girls who read. Unlike you, who does not.” 

“Petey doesn’t read either!” Brock retorted. 

“Look, all men have flaws. You and Elias just happen to have the same one. If I can deal with it, so can Autumn,” Olive teased as she adjusted her glasses on her nose, taking her pen and scribbling down a few notes. Brock just rolled his eyes slightly, a fond smile on his face as he watched Olive get excited over the idea of playing matchmaker. 

‘I’m kidding, honey. But, I really think that her and Elias would be a pretty couple, as I mentioned, they both think too much.” 

“Maybe we shouldn’t meddle,” Brock tried, not wanting to put them in the middle of something involving Petey again. 

“Listen, I’m trying to help our friends find happiness, this is not the same thing as what happened to us. So, can I bring her to dive bar night?” Olive was set in her mind, Autumn had quickly become one of her best friends and she wanted her to meet the other people in her life that had helped make the last year feel full, and if she could help two of her friends potentially find the love that her and Brock had found, she absolutely wanted to do it. Autumn and Elias both deserved happiness and love, and she couldn’t help but keep adding things to her lists of reasons about why they were almost a perfect match as she thought about setting them up more and more. 

“Of course, I mean I’d love to meet this girl you’re going to run away and start a bookshop with,” Brock teased. He genuinely did want to meet Autumn. He loved hearing Olive get excited about anything, and he was more than happy to add someone else into the small group of friends that he had in Vancouver. 

“Mhm, you don’t think Elias will be mad right? You know how he is about new people, but I think he’d really like her.” Olive said, internally groaning about how selective Elias was about who he spent his time with. It’s not that he was mean, or rude, but he took a while to warm up to new faces. Even when they had become friends, she was so sure he didn’t like her for weeks until they bonded over some obscure European grocery store in East Vancouver.

“He’ll be fine,” Brock shrugged. 

--------------

A few weeks later, Brock found himself settling back into Vancouver, a familiar calm presence resonating in him as he adjusted back into the routine. This time was different though, because he was happy to be back for new reasons this year, one of which was standing in his ensuite bathroom getting ready for the annual dive bar night experience that had become one of his favorite traditions since moving to Vancouver. 

“Brock, where’s my lipstick? I swear I left one here last time,” Olive called from the ensuite as she dug through the drawer of her things that had found a home in his bathroom. There were signs of her everywhere in his condo, and Brock had been steadily dropping hints for weeks about her just moving in. 

Brock came into the ensuite, gently placing his hand on her waist as he leaned around her to pull the lipstick from his drawer. He smirked slightly as she took it from his hands. He made no move to change positions as he watched her swipe the signature crimson over her lips and fix her hair. 

“You know you wouldn’t have to have duplicates if you just moved in, Ollie,” he said as he kissed her neck softly and tightened his grip on her waist. Olive turned her body into his to face him, lifting her hand to thread her fingers through his hair softly. The idea sounded amazing to her and she couldn’t in good faith argue that it was a bad idea when she knew that she would be spending more time here than her own apartment now that he was back. It also made her heart flutter, knowing that he was serious about her in the ways that she was serious about him. But, she also had her apprehensions, and didn’t want to rush into something too soon. 

“My lease is up in December, let’s revisit then, yeah?” She smiled, thinking he would be okay with the compromise. Brock kissed her in response. 

“So, that’s a yes just not yet, right?” He smirked. 

“We’ll talk in November,” she laughed as she pulled herself away from him, fixing her slightly smudged lipstick. Her phone buzzed with a text from Autumn, letting her know that she was on her way to the bar to meet everyone.

“Come on, you’re always late!” She teased, walking out of the bathroom with Brock on her heels. 

“Yeah, don’t think that’s me.” He laughed as he grabbed his keys.  

Olive reflected back on the last time she walked through these bar doors, she was with Elias and was looking forward to meeting his best friend. She had no idea that by walking into the shitty dive bar in East Vancouver that night that she would meet someone who would completely engulf her with a type of love that she only knew from books and dreams. She didn’t know that the blonde boy, who was slightly sunburnt and bold enough to wear Birkenstocks to a bar would be the one that she was walking in with just a year later. Brock reached his hand down and he laced his fingers with hers, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple before they got to the entrance. 

“Love you, Ollie.” He said, a wave of nostalgia from the last year hitting him as they got closer. Last year he watched as Olive walked into the bar with her red lips and messy hair and this year he was the one that got to walk in holding her hand. To anyone else it would be something straight out of a terrible Hallmark card that you get for Valentine’s Day, but to Brock it was the truth, he did feel lucky. All of the time spent, all of the drama had been worth it to him because that stuff is inconsequential when you know you want to be with someone.

Olive looked up at him and tugged on his hand slightly as she leaned up to kiss him properly, her red lipstick smudging slightly. She took her other hand and wiped it from his lips quickly, smiles on both of their faces. 

“Love you, Brockadoodle. Now, let’s see if we can help Elias fall in love.” 

#brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #brock boeser story #canucks story #canucks imagine #nhl fic #brock boeser

[dripkingpetey]

bestfriends forever-b.boeser

oh god here i am once again with a brock fic😐 i’ll be trying to do the requests that i’ve been getting over the weekend but please don’t get mad at me if i don’t end up getting to them. oh also! the flashbacks are in italics just an fyi!

brock boeser x oc!

2436 words

“Come play hockey with me Kyia!” Brock exclaimed at his bestfriend from his bedroom window over to hers, they were next door neighbours, with the windows in their respective bedrooms facing each other.

Kyia still remembers it like yesterday, Brock always asking her to play or hangout with him. Except right now, Kyia was in her car crying, she had just dropped off her bestfriend at the airport and he was heading to Vancouver. Obviously she was happy about Brock going to the NHL with the Vancouver Canucks, she didn’t want to leave him though. Brock and Kyia have been bestfriends even before they were born, with their mothers being bestfriends. They have never had to be separated before, even when Brock went to college for hockey, she ended up getting accepted into the same university. 

It took awhile for Kyia to stop crying but when she did, she started driving home, thinking about all of the memories with Brock even though it was likely that she would see him in a couple of weeks. She started playing her and Brocks playlist, they had started it when Brock got his first iPod after a hockey tournament when they were 9.

“Kyia! Come over I have something to show you.” Brock waved his arms furiously to get Kyia to hurry up. “Okay, okay I’ll be over in a sec.” Kyia giggled at how excited Brock was, slipping on her shoes before making her way over to Brocks house.

“Look it’s got all of these cool songs that we can make playlists with too.” Brock exclaimed enthusiastically as he hooked the iPod up to their family computer, making a playlist title ‘Kyia and Brocks swag times’ which was quickly denied by Kyia and changed to ‘Brock and Ky’s playlist’. “You’re boring you know that right?” Brock mumbled. “Yeah but you couldn’t live without me.” Kyia grinned at Brock as they searched up all of their favourite songs to add. 

Though that playlist has had many different versions for each year, they always put every song into the original playlist, making the total amount of songs over 1000. 

Brock had sent a snap to Kyia almost as soon as she got home, it was almost like he knew. Kyia opened it and it was a photo of Brock smiling with a heart emoji in the text bar. It wasn't unusual for Brock and Kyia to be saying I love you and stuff to each other, they’ve always said it and it would be weird for them to stop. Kyia didn’t want Brock to see that she was crying even though he knew, she responded to him with a text that said. “I miss you so much already, how was the flight?” Knowing that Brock had already taken off and wouldn’t see the text till he landed in Vancouver.

“Did you have a fun day?” Kyia asked over FaceTime to Brock, he was in his hotel room in Vancouver, getting ready for the start of training camp. “Yeah, traveling was exhausting but I got to meet some of the guys on the team today and they’re all really nice.” Brock smiled at you, the same beaming smile that could always cheer you up whenever you felt down. “That’s good.” Kyia said, not knowing if she should really tell Brock how she was feeling. “You should go to bed, it’s getting pretty late in Minnesota.” Brock said while running his fingers through his hair, referring to the 2 hour time difference between Vancouver and Minnesota. “I guess you’re right.” She mumbled, wanting to be with her bestfriend right now. “Ky, I miss you too. We can see each other soon, if I make the roster after training camp. You can fly to Vancouver with my parents for my first game.” Brock tried to make you feel better even though he missed you even more. “I guess, goodnight I love you.” Kyia said even though she didn’t want to end the call which resulted in Brock having to hang up after he said goodnight as well. 

-

It was hard on both Brock and Kyia, not being able to see each other almost everyday. Brock was focused on training for the upcoming season and Kyia had been busy with all of the school work she had, which all resulted in Brock and Kyia barely talking for two weeks, not to mention that the time difference made it even harder.

“I made it! I made the roster!” Brock exclaimed over the phone to Kyia which reminded her of when he made the roster for UND’s hockey team.

Brock rushed right to Kyia’s dorm room, knocking quickly as she got up to answer it and she was met by a big grin on Brocks face which quickly turned into him pulling Kyia into a tight hug. “I made the team.” Brock exclaimed, she was the first person he told after he found out. “You did it!!” Kyia was proud of him, she knew how hard he had been working for a spot there and he did it.

“You did it!” The same words came out of Kyia’s mouth as she teared up in happiness for him. “Holy fuck, you did it Brock.” There was a giant grin on Kyia’s face and she was sure Brock did too. “Yeah, I can’t believe it too.” Brock sighed along with a light chuckle. “Okay I gotta go tell my parents, do you want to FaceTime later?” 

“Wait, I’m the first person you told?” Kyia had expected that Brock would tell his parents first and her after. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I tell my bestfriend first?” Brock smiled even though she couldn’t see. “Awh, I love you, go tell your parents.” Even though Kyia knew it, it was still nice to hear that Brock was her bestfriend. “I love you too, you might want to start booking the plane tickets.” Brock joked but that’s exactly what she did, Kyia rushed to her computer to look at flights after he hung up. 

-

It was all-star break and Brock hadn’t been home in Minnesota for weeks, so he took advantage of that. Despite going back to Minnesota for Christmas, he was already missing it there, especially Kyia. “What are you up to?” Brock asked over FaceTime to her while sitting in his old truck he had in Minnesota. “Not much, just planning to sit around in bed all day.” Kyia mumbled. Brock being all the way in Vancouver was much harder than she thought it was going to be, it sucked to not see him and it was taking a toll on her mental health. “Fuck I gotta go, me and Petey are going out for lunch. Talk to you later?” Brock lied, knowing his plan was all coming together. “You know where I’ll be.” Kyia sighed while taking a sip of water. “Love you, I’ll talk to you later.” They both said at the same time.

Brock almost started giggling because that’s how excited he was to see Kyia. Her parents already knew so hey let him slide into their house, moving quietly before opening Kyia’s door to surprise her. “I’m home!” He exclaimed but quickly furrowed his eyebrows together when he saw Kyia crying, she didn’t even realize Brock was in her room till he started speaking. “Are you okay?” Brock said quietly, hugging Kyia while she was laying on her bed. “No, but I’m better now that you’re here.” She mumbled with a slight smile at Brock, she was crying about him, about how much she missed him and wish he never went to Vancouver. “I missed you.” Kyia laughed while turning around so she could give her bestfriend a proper hug. “I missed you even more Ky.” Brock chuckled as he tucked the loose strands of Kyia’s hair behind her ear. 

Brock would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to kiss Kyia right in that moment, with their faces inches away, looking at Kyia’s beautiful smile, their faces getting closer and closer like two magnets. But he knew he couldn’t do it, he would chicken out.

For the next three days, Kyia seemed like she had been brought back to life. The sad, Brock missing Kyia was gone, it was like Kyia was herself again. 

“She’s so much happier when she’s with you, you know? It’s been tough for her for the past couple of months.” Brocks mom, Laurie said quietly to him as they watch Kyia play with his dogs. Brock didn’t know what to do, all he could do was sigh, sigh and worry about how Kyia was going to be when he goes back to Vancouver and Kyia would be here by herself again. “Brock?” Laurie asked, trying to get his attention off of Kyia. “Yeah mom?” Brock quickly snapped out of it. “You know that she’s in love with you right? And I think you feel the same way.”

“But-” Brock tried to say something but quickly got cut off by his mother. “But we’ve been bestfriends forever.” Laurie mocked Brocks voice as he slumped down into his chair. “I know the two of you have never confessed it, you probably don’t even know that you’re in love with her. But I can see it.” Laurie said as she looked at Brock who was lost in his thoughts, staring at Kyia as he took Lauries words in. “Maybe I am.” He mumbled quietly and Laurie laughed. “I’ll leave it up to you two.” Laurie sighed, getting up and patting Brocks knee as she headed into the kitchen. 

It was the night before Brock had to fly back to Vancouver and Brock and Kyia had to spend every last moment together, before he had to go back for god knows how long. “I’m gonna miss you.” Kyia mumbled and pouted, she was laying on her bed on top of Brocks chest, tracing little circles on his chest with her fingers while he played with her hair. “Me too Ky, me too.” Brock sighed, closing his eyes so he doesn’t start tearing up. 

“What if you went to Vancouver with me?” Brock asked while him and Kyia were both half asleep. “Just for like a week or two.” Brock quickly added, hoping she would say yes.

“I could.” Kyia mumbled, looking up at Brock who was smiling at her. “All of my classes are online this semester anyways.” Kyia said as she watched Brocks face light up even more. “This is gonna be so fun.” Brock chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

It was a couple of days after Kyia and Brock got to Vancouver, Brock tried to show her around to get Kyia used to the surroundings. “Hey, do you mind if a couple of the guys come over for drinks later? They said that they wanted to meet you today while we were at practice.” Brock asked while looking over to see what she was doing, chuckling when he saw that she was playing with Milo and Coolie once again. “Yeah, I just gotta get ready though.” Kyia looked over to smile at Brock, she didn’t want to admit it but she was falling hard for him, those feelings have always been there but being in Vancouver with him for some reason just fuelled it. 

“Ah yes, so this is the lovely Kyia we always hear about.” Jake smiled at you before introducing himself. “So you talk about me huh?” Kyia raised an eyebrow playfully and everyone watched Brocks face turn into a light shade of red. “He never stops talking about you.” A tall blonde swede who she later learned was Elias, sighed with a chuckle before getting a little punch from Brock. 

“So, who wants some drinks?” Brock said quickly, trying to steer the conversation to a different topic. “You know what I want.” Kyia smiled as Brock went over to the kitchen to make her drink as well as grabbing a couple of beers for Elias and Jake.

Kyia learned a lot about what Brock was like on the ice and in Vancouver, not that he was any different than normally, it was just fun to hear the stories of him in Vancouver.

Elias and Jake had headed home, leaving a tipsy Brock and a drunk Kyia alone. “I love it here with you.” Kyia smiled as she heard those words come out of Brocks mouth. “Me too.” Kyia slurred while sitting closer to Brock, snuggling her head into his chest as he rubbed his thumb along her waist.

“I really missed seeing you everyday.” Kyia mumbled and pouted at Brock. Their faces were inches apart once again, and both Brock and Kyia were fighting the urge to just kiss each other. “Can I kiss you?” Brock asked quietly, cupping his spare hand onto Kyia’s bright red cheeks. “Yeah.” Kyia said with a smile before Brock pulled himself closer to her, kissing Kyia softly as she returned the favour. Neither of them said anything after they pulled away, they just sat there and cuddled till Brock had the guts to say something. “I love you.” Brock mumbled, expecting Kyia to be asleep. “I love you too, not as friends, more than that.” Kyia said softly as she looked up to see Brock smiling at her. “Me too.”

-

Brocks favourite thing to do in the off-season was going back to Minnesota and spending everyday on the lake and that’s what was happening right now.

“Hey.” Brock grinned while sitting down next to Kyia. “How many beers did you have?” Kyia sighed, quickly folding down the corner of the page she was reading and placed her book down so she could pay attention to Brock. “A couple.” 

Brock leaned his face right up to Kyia’s and kissed her face over and over again before whispering some nonsense as she giggled and smelt the alcohol in his breath. “I love you too Brock.” Kyia quickly pecked his lips before he rested his head on her chest. “What if we got married?” Brock mumbled, not expecting Kyia to hear it even though he wanted her to. Kyia didn’t know what to say, she knew that Brock was the one but she didn’t know if he truly meant it or he was just drunk. “Actually?” Kyia questioned and Brock lifted his head up to look at her. “Yeah.” Brock grinned because that’s all he knew what to do. “One day,” Kyia smiled as Brock laid his head back down on his chest and she played with his blonde hair.

#brock boeser #brock boeser fic #Brock Boeser x oc #nhl canucks #vancouver canucks #canucks #fic #hockey #canucks hockey #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl #brock boeser imagine

[toasttt11]

sleep

January 6, 2018

Carter tiredly walked through the front door having been dropped off by one of her teammates after practice, she dropped her bags by the doorway and slipped her shoes off. She almost bumped into the table as she was walking to the couch because she was so tired.

Trevor who has been living with the Hughes for a year and a half already, looked away from the TV and saw Carter looking extremely tired, “Hey baby hughes.” Trevor spoke quietly as she walked over and flopped onto the couch next to him and scooting close to him and laying her head onto his lap and closing her eyes.

“Hi Tre.” Carter mumbled extremely tired and trying to fall asleep.

Trevor reached his arm around and grabbed the blanket and gently draped it over her, he hesitantly put his hand onto her back and started gently rubbing her back knowing that it helps her fall asleep better.

Trevor smiled softly and fondly as he saw her fall fast and asleep. Trevor knew how important it was when Carter slept next to someone, she has the worse time and when she sleeps to someone and falls asleep it means she trusts them and Trevor was very glad he had earned that trust in his favorite Hughes.

#carterhughesau #carter hughes x connor bedard #ch86 #connor bedard blurb #connor bedard imagine #connor bedard x oc #connor bedard #cole caufield x oc #cole mcward #cole caufield #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x oc #jack hughes x oc #luke hughes x oc #elias pettersson #brock boeser #thatcher demko #jt miller #vancouver canucks #trevor zegras x oc #trevor zegras #nhl x oc #nhl blurbs #nhl au #nico hischier x oc #jh86 #cb98 #qh43

[equallyshaw]

I do’s. feat. q hughes insta edit.

—

Quinn is supposed to be like 30 here, fyi :) some random chaos lol

* they’ve known each other since they were both 15

–

@missyhughes: little missy would be shocked to known that after 13 years of not speaking to one another, we’d be reunited and married🥹🤍

Tag: quinnhughes_

236.2k likes, 2.3k comments.

@elblue6: an absolute dream!! So grateful to have had you in our lives for over a decade, so glad the stars aligned for you two 🫶🏻

↳ @missyhughes: I love you so so much mama hughes !

@lhughes_6: welcome to the fam sis!

↳ @missyhughes: 😌😌

@missysdad: so happy for you child

↳ @missyhughes: thanks dad :)

@quinnhughes_: the second pic 😇

↳ @missyhughes: 😉😉

@quinnhughes_: so thankful to call you my wife 😌

↳ @missyhughes: I love you quinny!!!

@eliaspettersson: congrats missy!! So happy to have you two as neighbors :)

↳ @elliaspetterson: love you ! Grateful for your and Kelsey’s friendship

@kelseypettersson: favs finally got married 🥹

↳ @missyhughes: hehehe

@missyssister: drop. Dead. Gorgeous. Queen!

↳ @missyhughes: 😭😭🫶🏻

@missysbestfriend: maid of honor duties have officially ended I’m so sad

@missysbestfriend: but will never forget this weekend 🤍

↳ @missyhughes: I LOVE U FOREVER MAID OF HONOR

@brockboser: favs

↳ @missyhughes: 😎😎

@kenziarkin: iconic bride !

↳ @missyhughes: Thankyou for everything kenz!!

@mandyhughes: (Luke’s new wife) so glad to have been on our journeys together 🤗

↳ @misshughes: I know 😭 gonna go cry brb

@bradytkachuk: lovebirds

↳ @missyhughes: 🤗🤗

@sashacoleman: (jacks new fiancé/ baby mama) ahhh!! love you love you

↳ @misshughes: love you too!! So grateful to have you in our lives :)

||

•

@quinnhughes_: 15 year old, freshman quinn would be quite literally, freaking out that we secured this rare pearl of a human🤍

Tag: missyhughes, elblue6, jackhughes and lhughes_6

334k likes, 7.8k comments.

||

@fanone: get that coin sis

@fantwo: biggest gold digger in the league

↳ @fanthree: lol. They’ve known each other for like 15 years…i don’t think that’s the case but go off I guess

@jackhughes: finally…took quinnie a decade and a half to realize you were the one. #finnallyhitched !

@missyhughes: 😇😇

@missyhughes: can’t believe this is real life 🥹

@brockboesr: anybody that says anything stupid will be blocked

↳ @elliaspetterson: RT ^^

@fanfour: anybody that’s says that she’s only a quinn for one reason are idiots

@dylanlarkin: congrats guys! Sick weekend

↳ @quinnhughes_: thanks brotha!

@trevorzegras: 😎😎 partners in crime 4 lyfe

↳ @missyhughes: 🫡🫡

↳ @quinnhughes_: 🥰

@colecaufield: besties

@elblue6: congrats you two! Such a great weekend…i wanna do it again ☺️

↳ @missyhughes: LETS!!

↳ @quinnhughes_: * checks calender*

@vancouvercanucks: congratulations you two! Welcome to the fam, @missyhughes

↳ @missyhughes: Thankyou, love you guys!

@njdevils: congratulations are in order for all the hughes this summer ☺️

↳ @missyhughes: yes!! Thankyou so much!

↳ @lhughes_6: you know it ;)

↳ @jackhughes: hehe

↳ @mandyhughes: love you sissy in law !

↳ @missyhughes: I love you two!! Semi blondes unite!

@bradytckachuk: 🥱🥱

↳ @quinnhughes_: suck it.

@matthewtckachuk: mom and dad

↳ @missyhughes: 👨‍👩‍👦 child

||

Random tags:

@quinnhughess @hugheshugs @hugheswhore @jayda12 @hockeyboysarehot @slafgoalskybaby @fallinallincurls

#Quinn hughes #Quinn hughes x oc #nhl #hockey #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #luke hughes #umich hockey #jack hughes #New Jersey devils #vancouver canucks #brock boeser #elias pettersson #matthew tkachuk #brady tkachuk #Trevor zegras

[jostyriggslover96]

Masterlist

All this writing is my own, please do not repost my work on other platforms!

Smut/nsfw=* (Smut and nsfw content are 18+, minors DNI)

Top Gun Maverick Fics:

Rooster (Bradley Bradshaw)

Unexpected Connections   Pt.1  Pt.2  Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5

Hockey Fics:

Jack Hughes

Heart First Series: (Jack x Kira OC)

Summer Rituals

Someone Unexpected

Best Thing In My Life

Holiday Traditions

Brock Boeser

The Plan

Happy Birthday Baby*

Tyson Jost

I Want You*

Jamie Oleksiak

We’re really doing this?*  Pt.1*  Pt. 2  Pt. 3*  Pt.4*

Nolan Patrick

Obvious Pt.1  Pt.2  Pt. 3*  Pt.4*  Pt.5*

Imagine Nolan’s first day back at training camp

Tyler Seguin

What could go wrong? Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3* Pt.4* Pt.5   Pt.6*  Pt.7*  Pt.8

Valentine’s Day Blurbs

André Burakovsky

Would you mind*

Brock Boeser

I love you

Jamie Oleksiak

First Date

Movie Night*

Perfect

Too stupid to realize

Matty Tkachuk

Trust

Nathan Mackinnon

Teenage Dream

Nolan Patrick

Cooking for you*

Love Language

I wasn’t lying

Phil Myers

Shower sex*

Tyler Seguin

A new puppy

#masterlist