lee-laurent

[lee-laurent]

alright! starting the quinn fic tonight!!!

[lee-laurent]

next fic…

[lee-laurent]

lowkey might put the quinn fic on the back burner and work on my luke ones for a bit

[lee-laurent]

sorry for the lack of updates… work is killingggg me and im falling asleep by like 21h every night 😭😭 im working on a quinn fic still and i’ve got a couple luke ones in the back of my mind. sorry guysss

[lee-laurent]

i’m so excited for my next fic!!

[lee-laurent]

ok i lied, this quinn fic is gonna be so long it's gotta be multiple parts... or else it's gonna be like one 100k word fic 😭

[lee-laurent]

alright so! it’s a holiday here in canada today so i’m gonna try to write! next fic is a quinn fic and im planning for it to be longggg. i was considering multiple parts but i think it’ll read better as one long fic

[lee-laurent]

Stay, It's Early - Luke Hughes

Summary: "Tess and Luke fucked!"

content: underage drinking, casual sex/situationship, slight angst, implied smut but no explicit smut, slow burn

wc: 7.2k

notes: new fic!! you guys voted for luke on the poll, so here you go!! either another luke fic or a quinn fic next :) hope you enjoyyyy

Tess Walsh was thirteen the first time she got invited to the Hughes lake house.

She wasn't there by choice, not really. She was tagging along, the only girl, the youngest by a year, the kid sister who got to come because her parents were close with the Hugheses and her brother had just joined the USNTDP. Ben Walsh was sixteen, which was a big deal in her world, and had somehow become inseparable from Jack Hughes, Trevor Zegas, and Cole Caufield seemingly overnight.

Tess wasn't part of the plan. She was an afterthought. But she packed like it mattered. Lip gloss that she only wore on special occasions, denim shorts that she thought made her look older, a stack of books she wouldn't read. The second they pulled into the driveway and she saw him-- Jack, in sandals, sunburnt, grinning with a hockey stick in hand--her stomach did a little flip.

He was the hottest boy she'd ever seen in real life. And for the next seven days, her one goal was to make him fall in love with her.

She tried everything. Sat near him at the bonfire, asked if he needed help when they carried stuff to the boat, even offered him the last popsicle like it was a normal thing that kids did. But Jack never noticed. Not really. He was nice, he was always nice, but he looked at her the same way he looked at the cooler or the bug spray. Something that was just there.

The rest of the boys didn't pay much attention to her either. They were busy, wrestling in the grass, talking shit, jumping off the docks to see who made the best splash. She couldn't keep up. When they played cards, she wasn't invited. When they took out the boat, there "wasn't room."

So she wandered.

And that's when she found Luke.

He was just a year older than her, though at the time it felt like a canyon. He was long-legged and lanky, quiet in a way the other guys weren't. When Jack was loud and electric, Luke moved in a way that made it seem like he didn't want to be noticed.

Tess found him sitting cross-legged on the dock one afternoon, flipping through a book of hockey trivia and eating Goldfish straight from the bag.

She hovered awkwardly nearby until he looked up and said, "You can sit, if you want."

So she did.

They didn't talk much, mostly just tossed crackers at seagulls. But he didn't ignore her. And he didn't treat her like a little kid, either. They played a card game later that night while the rest of the group was watching a movie too loud inside. He taught her how to shuffle right. She beat him once. He said it was luck.

The first summer ended quietly. She went home sunburned and smug, having not won Jack's heart but secretly satisfied that she hadn't spent the entire week alone.

She didn't expect the next summer to be any different.

And it wasn't. It kept going. Every year, the same week. Same lake. Same house.

The boys got older, taller, louder. She did too.

By fifteen, her crush on Jack had died the natural death most delusions suffer, slowly and with minor humiliation. She'd caught him making out with some girl on the boathouse steps and spent the rest of the night pretending to be violently interested in marshmallows. The next morning, she tore out the page in her diary where she'd drawn a heart around his name and never looked back.

But even after the crush dissolved, Tess kept coming.

Because somewhere between year one and year three, this thing, the group, the lake, the ritual, became hers too.

The parents still came, at first. Hers and the Hugheses, piling in groceries and yelling about applying sunscreen. The days were long, the nights were tame. She and Ben would share a bunk room. The boys would sneak snacks upstairs like they were being rebellious.

Then, eventually, it changed.

The parents stopped coming with.

Jack and Quinn bought a house down the road--bigger, cleaner, stocked with liquor and bad decisions. They had real money. Real lives. But every summer, they ended up at the same place.

And so did she.

Luke was always there.

They never texted. Never hung out during the year. But every summer, without fail, Tess would find herself next to him. On the dock, in the kitchen, in a shared silence that neither of them minded.

Sometimes they played cards. Sometimes they went for a swim. Sometimes they just sat together at the firepit while everyone else talked over them.

It was never more than that. They didn't flirt. They didn't get flirty.

But they were comfortable together.

Ben used to tease her about it when they were younger. "Your boyfriend's waiting on the dock again." And she'd roll her eyes like it was the dumbest joke ever told.

Luke never reacted to it.

She figured that meant it didn't matter.

Now, Tess was twenty.

Ben, Jack, Trevor, Quinn, Luke, and Cole were all in the NHL. Different teams, different cities. They posted pictures with new teammates, had lives that moved fast and loud and far from anything Tess wanted to touch. But every summer, no matter where the season ended, they all came back. To the lake. To each other.

And Tess did too. Not because she was explicitly invited, but because it was still just what happened. She showed up with Ben, or sometimes they drove separately. Threw her bag in the same room. Knew which speaker worked the best. No one ever questioned it. She was just there. She belonged.

She was still the only girl most of the time. Still the one who packed extra sunscreen, remembered the bottle opener, kept the cooler from being all beer and no water. She wasn't anyone's girlfriend. She wasn't a guest.

She was just Tess.

And Luke was still Luke.

They still never crossed that invisible line. They didn't hang out outside of the summer. They didn't text or FaceTime late at night. But something had changed. Slightly. Barely noticable.

Tess noticed his eyes more. The way his voice sounded when he was tired. The way her stomach jumped a little when his fingers brushed hers as he passed her a drink.

It was nothing.

It meant... nothing.

~~

The car rumbled as Jack pulled into the driveway, the driveway of the house he and Quinn had purchased once all the NHL cheques started coming in. The place was rough around the edges, pine needles everywhere, beer caps in the grass from last year's party, but it was theirs.

It felt like summer.

Ben unbuckled in the passenger seat and grabbed the keys to open the trunk. "I swear to God, Jack, if you didn't bring enough ice again--"

"Relax, Trevor's got two more bags."

"That's not enough."

Jack glanced back at Tess through the rearview mirror, grinning. "Your brother's still a control freak, by the way."

Tess smirked and pushed her sunglasses up. "And you're still reckless. It's nice to see nothing's changed."

It was going to be like every summer before... right?

~~

The party had started before the sun went down, which meant by the time darkness actually settled over the lake, it was already loud and crowded, spilling out from the back deck into the yard.

Tess stood barefoot on the edge of the porch, a cold can of cider sweating in her hand, watching as more cars pulled into the front like the invite list never actually ended. She didn't even recognize half the people. Some were definitely teammates, a few were girlfriends, and the rest looked like townies that Jack and Trevor had collected during an earlier beer run.

Someone had a speaker with better bass than the one wired into the house. The playlist seemed to be all frat-party classics with basslines she could feel in her chest and choruses being half-screamed. Bodies moved like background noise. Solo cups were everywhere. Someone was trying to light a joint with a tiki torch.

It was chaos.

Tess took a sip, ran a hand through her hair, and leaned against the railing, eyes scanning for Ben. Or maybe Jack. Or maybe--

Luke.

He was by the coolers, bent over to grab another beer, his t-shirt stretched across his back and riding up slightly at the waist. He stood up, turned, and caught her eye. Nothing dramatic. No smile. Just a look, like he'd been waiting for her to look first.

And somehow, she always did.

Later, the pong table came out.

"Alright, let's go," Jack called out, already racking cups with the expert precision of someone who treated drinking games like real competition.

Tess found herself easily pulled in, drink in hand, cheeks warm from the alcohol and the heat and the string lights overhead. Ben was on a team with Cole. Trevor had claimed some girl from town as his partner and was already showing off like it was the national championship.

"Tess," Jack said, nodding toward the open side of the table. "You up?"

Before she could answer, Luke appeared beside her, already sipping his beer.

"I've got her," he said casually.

Something about the way he said it, like he always did, settled right into her stomach.

Tess peered up at him. "Sure you can keep up?"

Luke cocked an eyebrow. "I've carried worse."

"Rude."

"You love it."

She rolled her eyes, stepping up to the table as he moved in beside her. Their hips brushed and he didn't shift away.

They were good together. Annoyingly good. Tess had never played better, sinking cup after cup, fueled by adrenaline, laughter, and Luke's low murmurs next to her every time she lined up a shot.

"Go left," he said once, his hand on the small of her back, his mouth close to her ear.

She did and she sunk the ball, grinning from ear to ear.

And when she jumped up in celebration, he caught her waist, hands warm, fingers sliding just slightly beneath the hem of her tank top as she laughed, breathless, flushed, proud.

She didn't move right away and neither did he.

It didn't feel like a moment then. Just part of the game, part of the night, but something about it stuck.

They won three rounds straight, and talked shit the entire time. Tess couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed that hard with him or noticed how often he looked at her when she wasn't looking.

It got later, the sky got darker and the drinks got stronger.

The backyard thinned out in waves, people disappearing in the dark or stumbling down to the dock, music fading as phones died or got dropped or drowned out. The party didn't stop, not exactly. It just shifted, got sweatier, looser, lit by string lights and adrenaline.

Tess was standing in the kitchen when Luke found her again. She was reaching for a bottle of water she wasn't actually going to drink, her skin warm from beer and body heat, her pulse beating in her throat.

Luke cleaned on the counter behind her. Close. The kind of close you only noticed when you realized you didn't want to step away.

"You good?" he asked, voice low, eyes scanning her face like he already knew her answer.

She nodded. "You?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah."

They stood there for a second. The air thick between them.

It wasn't like she'd planned on it. Wasn't like he asked. It just--

"Come up with me," he said, quietly, evenly. Not a line, just an offer.

Tess looked up at him, heart beating even harder, like her body had decided before her brain could.

She didn't say anything, just followed him up the stairs.

~~

His room was a mess. Not dirty, just scattered. A hoodie on his chair, phone charge falling out of the socket, suitcase only halfway unpacked. It smelled like cologne and lake water and something Tess could only describe as Luke.

He didn't turn the light on.

The door clicked shut behind them, and then there was nothing but breath and movement.

Tess didn't think at all, she just moved. Hands on his shoulders, lips on his mouth, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt like it was something she'd done about a million times before.

He kissed like he'd wanted to for a while. Slow, then not. Deep, then messy. His hands were firm on her waist, sliding under her shirt, and pulling her against him with so much certainty it made her head spin more than the alcohol.

They didn't really speak. Didn't ask questions, didn't hesitate.

Shirt. Shorts. Bra. Gone.

Her back hit the bed and he followed. Their bodies moved like they were drunk on each other, like the last few years of their lives had been leading here and they just hadn't realized.

It wasn't soft or rough. It was just real-- urgent, wrapped in years of proximity and tension filled summers spent pretending there wasn't anything there.

And when it was over, she lay there for a second, heart still racing, chest rising and falling, fingers brushing against his as they both stared at the ceiling.

He didn't say anything and neither did she.

It was just the sound of music still faintly playing through the floorboards and the buzz of knowing that something that couldn't be taken back had just happened.

~~

Tess woke up the sound of the sliding door downstairs opening.

The breeze pushed through the cracked window, cool against her bare shoulder. Outside, waves lapped against the dock, but inside everything felt still.

Except for her heartbeat.

It thudded low and fast as she adjusted to unfamiliar surroundings, blinking against the bright slice of light cutting through the curtains. Her head was killing her. Her body ached. Not in a bad way, not like a hangover, but in a way that felt far too intimate to describe.

It took her a good five seconds to register where she was.

Two more to register why.

The freckled back facing her was the final confirmation

Luke was still asleep, turned away from her, one arm tucked under the pillow, his shoulder rising and falling with each slow breath he took. His hair was a mess. The blanket was only half covering him, slipping low across his waist.

Tess sat up slowly, holding the edge of the sheet to her chest like it would protect her from the fact that her world had just changed.

Shit.

Her clothes were on the floor. Her bra draped over a chair. Her phone was face-down by the nightstand like it had been dropped mid-mistake.

She moved as quietly as she could, heart in her throat as she slipped her shirt back on and stepped into her shorts. Every movement felt too loud. Every second felt like it was going to wake him up.

And of course -- of fucking course-- it did.

Luke stirred, groaning into the pillow, voice rough with sleep.

"Noooo, T," he mumbled, eyes still closed. "Stay... s'early..."

It didn't sound like a request. It sounded like something his half-asleep brain said on instinct, something that didn't register as real.

Tess froze for half a beat. Long enough to feel it hit. Then she grabbed her phone and slipped out the door.

The kitchen was empty when she went down. Someone had started a pot of coffee but abandoned it halfway through. The air still smelled like the night before, beer, smoke, lake water, something sweet and stale. The fridge hummed like it was trying it's hardest to stay cool.

Tess poured herself a glass of water, even though her stomach was too twisted to drink it. She kept her eyes down, focused on the sink, on the tile, on anything except the fact that she had just slept with Luke Hughes.

She didn't know what that made them. What did it make her?

~~

The rest of the house trickled awake slowly, staggered showers, groans, and sunglasses indoors. The usual post-party mess. Jack found his speaker still playing some song on loop and muttered something about brain damage. Trevor walked through the kitchen shirtless and stole a piece of toast from someone else's plate. Cole handed Tess a Tylenol and a banana like it was some sort of peace offering.

Ben looked suspiciously well-rested.

And Luke...

Luke was just quiet.

He came down last, hoodie pulled over his head, hair wet like he'd already showered. He didn't look at her. Not right away. He said hi to Jack. He fist-bumped Cole. He grabbed a coffee and leaned against the counter like it was any other day.

But it wasn't.

And Tess could feel it.

They were both playing it too cool. Both avoiding eye contact. Both pretending the air wasn't charged with something new.

And maybe no one had said anything yet. But that didn't mean they weren't noticing.

They went out on the boat around noon.

Classic lake day, load up the cooler, pile on some sunscreen, and fight over who had to sit in the middle. It was sunny, hot, and the water looked perfect. The guys were loud again, back to normal... at least on the surface.

But not for Tess.

She didn't sit near Luke. She didn't even glance at him when they boarded.

Instead, she wedged herself between Jack and Ben near the front, laughing at something Jack said, playing with the frayed edge of her towel. She wasn't trying to prove anything, But she couldn't help the way she leaned in when Jack cracked another joke. Or how she smiled too hard at her brother, like she wasn't spiralling out of control in her mind.

Luke sat near the back.

Didn't talk much.

He laughed when someone sprayed him with lake water, flipped Trevor off when he made a comment about the way he was holding his beer, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He watched Tess when she wasn't looking, or maybe she was but pretended not to be.

And when she threw her head back and laughed at something Jack said, something stupid and not even that funny, Luke looked away.

Just for a second.

But it was enough.

Enough that Jack and Ben noticed.

They didn't say anything. Not yet.

But Tess caught the way Ben looked between her and Luke when they were climbing off the boat. The way Jack raise an eyebrow when she said she was tired and disappeared inside early.

The energy was off.

Everyone could feel it. But no one had figured out why.

~~

The grill hissed with the sound of burgers cooking on the hot coals. There was a half-eaten watermelon on the table, slices of tomato on paper plates, and a long string of plastic cups with some sort of concoction in them.

The music was chiller now, giving way to lazy conversation and the sound of the bottle opener clinking against the side of the cooler. It felt like tradition. Like what evenings at the lake house were supposed to feel like.

Tess sat on the edge of the picnic table, drinking a seltzer she hadn't even asked for. Luke was close by--too close and somehow not closer enough-- leaning back a deck chair, ankles crossed, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

They hadn't said more than ten words to each other all day. And yet, they kept finding themselves in the same orbit.

She fucking hated it.

She hated that she couldn't stop thinking about his hands, his mouth, the way he'd whispered her name. She hated that she was analyzing nothing-- a quick glance, a sip of his beer, the way he adjusted his sweatshirt.

She hated that he wasn't really looking at her.

"Hey," Quinn called out, lifting the lid on the grill. "Tess, Luke-- can you guys grab the blue cooler from the basement? The heavy one. It's full of drinks, I don't think it should be carried alone."

That would've been fine.

Normally.

Except...

"I got it," Tess stood up quickly.

"No, I'll--" Luke started at the same time.

"I mean, I can just--"

"It's fine, I've got it--"

They froze, mid-step, mid-sentence.

The group went weirdly still. Like the conversation had justed sucked the oxygen out of the air.

Even the grill sizzle felt louder than it should've.

Trevor was halfway through eating a chip and stopped mid-chew.

Cole looked up from his phone.

And Jack just squinted, a slow grin on his face.

"What was that?" he asked, pointing between the two of them.

Tess let out a breath and turned toward the house. "Nothing. I'll go."

"I can help--" Luke offered, still trying to sound casual, but his voice cracked slightly on the word help, and Tess felt it in her spine.

"Seriously, I've got it," she said.

Jack was still watching. "Why're you guys being so weird?"

Tess didn't answer. Neither did Luke.

"Okay, no, what is this?" Jack said, standing up like he needed a better angle. "That was weird, right? That wasn't just me?"

Trevor nodded slowly, eyes narrowed. "It was weird."

"Uncomfortable weird."

"Like sexual tension weird," Trevor added.

Tess stopped walking.

Luke cleared his throat. "That's not--"

"Oh my God," Jack said, eyes wide. "Did you guys fuck or something?"

Tess blinked. "What? No."

Luke shook his head. "Jesus, Jack."

"I'm justy saying!" He held up both hands, backing away like he'd just launched a grenade. "It would explain, like, everything. The boat. The kitchen this morning. The... cooler thing."

"No," Tess said, sharper this time. "We didn't."

Luke echoed a beat later. "Yeah. No."

They didn't look at each other. They didn't need to.

Jack laughed again. "Relax. I was joking. Holy shit. You two are acting like I accused you of a fucking crime."

"Coulda fooled me," Cole muttered, not even trying to be subtle.

Jack kept going, because that's what Jack does. "Can you guys even imagine if Luke and Tess fucked?"

"Jack," Ben warned lowly.

"I'm serious!" he laughed harder. "Like, picture it. Luke and Tess. That'd be wild, right?"

Trevor nodded. "We'd never recover as a group."

"There'd be rules. An NDA. Emergency separation protocols."

Tess clenched her jaw, but didn't say anything. She just turned, walked toward the house, and let the screen door slam behind her without a word.

The floor creaked under her feet as she moved down the hallway, breath caught in her throat. She didn't even care about the cooler. She just didn't want to be out there anymore.

No Jack laughing.

No NDA jokes.

No Luke being awkward.

She sighed, leaning against the bathroom counter, fingers gripping the side so tightly, her knuckles were white.

Outside, the laughter had thinned.

Ben shot Jack a look that could've melted skin.

"Nice going, dipshit."

Jack frowned. "What? It was a joke."

"You're not funny."

"She said they didn't--"

"Yeah, and you don't know how to shut the fuck up."

Jack looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't.

Luke was still standing there, hands in his pockets, silent.

Trevor cleared his throat. "So... when's the food gonna be ready?"

~~

She couldn't sleep.

Her sheets were twisted around her legs, the pillow was too hard, and her tank top was clinging to her back like it was glued there. The room was too hot. Unbearably hot. The kind of heat that made your skin itch, made all your thoughts louder, made everything feel ten times worse.

The small fan in the corner of the room buzzed but was failing miserably. She'd cracked the window open, hoping from some breeze from the lake, but all it brought was humidty and the sound of crickets. She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling.

"You're fine," she mumbled.

That was the lie she kept trying to tell herself.

She was fine. This was fine. Everything was fine.

Except it was far from it.

Her skin felt too tight. Her thoughts were looping, Jack's voice from earlier playing on repeat: "Can you imagine if Luke and Tess fucked?"

And worse: the way everyone laughed. The way Luke wouldn't look at her. The way no one really thought it was true.

Her phone screen lit up when she tapped it. 1:04 AM.

She sighed, tossed it back onto the nightstand, and ran her fingers through her braid that was frizzy and half undone from moving around.

Then she sat up.

She didn't think, just moved.

The hallway was dark and every floorboard that squeaked felt ten times louder than it did during the day. Tess walked slowly, barely breathing. Just past Jack's room, then Ben's, then Quinn's.

She stopped outside Luke's door and knocked twice, softly.

She didn't even know what she was doing. Didn't have a plan, didn't want one either.

And when the door didn't open right away, she told herself it was a sign. A warning that said Go back to bed. Sleep it off. You'll be fine.

She turned slightly, ready to head back to her room. Then it opened.

Luke stood in the doorway. Shirtless, hair pushed back like he'd just rolled over. Eyes sleepy, but alert.

They didn't speak, they didn't have to. He stepped back and she stepped in, the door shutting behind her.

She kissed him like she was angry. Like her mind was spinning and kissing him was the only thing she could do to make it stop.

He kissed her back immediately, not caring why she was there, just happy she was.

Hands found skin. Clothes hit the floor. Tess didn't care that she looked like a mess or that her hair was sticking up in all directions. Luke didn't ask nor did he pause.

This was faster than the first time. Desperate in a way that was scarily close to being emotional, but only if you looked at it for too long. So neither of them did.

His mouth was on her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone. Her fingers scraped down his back, over the ridges of his spine. She pulled him closer, as close as humanly possible.

And when it was over, when their breathing finally slowed, when her body stopped trembling, when his hand fell limp beside her on the bed, Tess didn't let herself stay.

She sat up and found her clothes. Her hair was damp with sweat, her skin too, but she didn't look at him. Just slipped everything back on and stood quietly, her back to him the entire time.

Luke was watching her, she could feel it.

But still neither of them spoke.

She opened the door and stepped into the dark of the hallway like nothing had happened.

Behind her, Luke exhaled a long, slow breath through his nose.

He ran a hand over his face, shifted onto his back, and stared at the ceiling like it held all the answers. Then he rolled over, pulled the sheet over his hip, and let the weight of his exhaustion pull him under.

~~

It was supposed to just be another day on the water.

At least that was the plan: warm sun, cold drinks, bodies stretched out on towels, lake water that cooled you off in a perfect way. One of those golden afternoons that made summer feel endless.

But everything was off.

Tess felt it in her chest the moment she stepped foot on the boat. The sky was clear, the music was low, the beer was cold... but the space between her and luke was still thick with this tension neither of them wanted to discuss.

They stil weren't talking.

She had said "morning" when they crossed paths in the hallway and he'd nodded, but that was it. They hadn't looked at each other since.

Now, out on the water, Tess sat between Jack and Ben at the bow, sunglasses on, jaw tight, pretend the sun was the reason she wasn't talking. Luke was at the other end of the boat, legs stretched out, talking to Trevor about something Tess couldn't hear and probably didn't want to.

He looked completely fine. Relaxed.

Like he hadn't pulled her shirt over her head last night, pressed his mouth to her throat, whispered her name a thousand times over.

She tried not to look at him. She tried really, really hard.

"Alright, let's go," Trevor said, standing up and clapping his hands. "Time to take a swim. It's too fucking hot."

Cole nodded, kicking off his sandals. "Last one in has to take out the trash tonight!"

Jack was already pulling his shirt over his head. "You're the one who left like four empty White Claws in the bottom of the cooler. You're already on trash duty, bro."

Tess didn't move. She wasn't ready to swim, especially with that many eyes on her.

Trevor turned to Luke. "You in or what?"

Luke shrugged, set his drink down, and reached for the hem of his shirt like it was nothing.

And then... chaos.

The moment his shirt came off, the energy shifted.

The guys didn't even attempt to play it cool.

"OH MY GOD," Jack shouted first, loud and dramatic, pointing like he'd just spotted the Loch Ness monster.

Trevor's eyes were wide. "No fucking way."

"Yo--Luke," Cole barked. "What the hell happened to your back?"

Tess froze.

Luke stood there, shirt in his hand, calm as ever, but the red marks were impossible to miss.

Three long, arching scratches carved into the skin between his shoulder blades. One trailing toward his ribs and one that was faintly bruiesd.

They weren't from a fall or a tree branch. They were from her. And everyone knew it. Everyone saw it.

Jack covered his mouth like he was trying not to laugh. "We fucking knew it."

Trevor pointed at Tess. "Knew it! I said it yesterday!"

Cole looked stunned. "Dude. Dude. Luke."

Luke didn't say anything, just smirked.

A slow, cocky half-smile that said "yeah, you're right" without needing a word.

Tess felt the heat crawl up the back of her neck before she could even react.

Her skin was on fire. Her brain short-circuited. Her stomach turned as every guy on the boat looked at her with the same expression--disbelief, amusement, and the worst of all... curiosity.

Jack was grinning like a fucking maniac. "So you're not denying it now?"

Luke just cocked an eyebrow.

"I KNEW IT," Trevor yelled. "That's why they were acting all weird yesterday! And why she wouldn't even look at you at the bbq!"

Cole leaned back against his seat like he was watching a movie. "I feel like we've uncovered something we weren't supposed to see. Like Area 51."

Tess didn't say a word. She couldn't. She stared straight ahead, face bright red, lips pressed together so tightly it hurt. She didn't look at Luke, didn't look at anyone.

If she pretended hard enough, maybe it wasn't happening.

Jack leaned toward Luke like a kid asking about his older brother's crush. "Okay but how did it happen? Was it the pong game? Was it--"

"Jack." Ben's voice cut through, sharp.

Everyone paused.

Ben was staring at the water, jaw tight. Not saying anything else. Just shaking his head slightly like he was trying to physically rattle the thoughts from his skull.

Then finally...

"Ew. That's my fucking sister."

Jack blinked. "Oh. Shit. Right."

Trevor held up his hands. "Yeah. My bad. Respectfully."

Cole nodded. "Respectfully."

Luke scratched the back of his neck, still smirking, still very much not sorry.

Jack elbowed Ben gently. "Hey, at least it's Luke. Coulda been worse."

Ben shot him a look that said say one more word and I'll throw you off this boat.

Jack nodded. "Right, shutting up."

The boat rocked gently in the silence that followed. Luke sat back down. Tess still hadn't moved. The scratches were still there. Undeniable. And so was everything else they weren't talking about.

~~

Trevor and Jack were still out on the dock laughing about god-knows-what and there was music playing in the living room. Tess was standing in the hallway upstairs, a half-finished glass of water in hand, wearing one of Ben's old t-shirts and trying not to replay the events of the day over and over again in her mind.

The scratche. The boat. The guys losing it. Luke's stupid smug face. Her silence.

She'd avoided everyone the second they got back to the shore. Took a long shower and didn't come down for dinner. She let the weight of the last two days press heavy against her chest and she didn't know if it was embarrassment making her sweat or the heat.

She was just about to head to bed when she heard it.

"T."

Ben's voice. She turned and he was cleaning against the wall near her room, arms crossed, hair wet from a shower, socks mismatched like always.

Tess cocked a brow. "What."

He didn't answer right away, just looked at her like he was trying to figure out how to even begin.

"Okay," she said slowly. "You're being weird. Stop."

Ben pushed off the wall, stepping closer. "I'm not mad."

Tess blinked. "Okay... cool?"

"I just need to know," he said lowly. "Is he messing with you?"

That stopped her.

She stared at him, completely stunned.

Then let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Seriously?"

"I mean it, Tess."

"You think someone would only hook up with me if it was a joke?" Her voice cracked slightly, hurt underneath. "God. Your ego is fucking insane."

Ben flinched. Just barely, but it was there.

Tess shook her head. "You really think I'm that easy to mess with? That I don't know what I'm doing?"

"That's not what I said."

"Yeah, but it's what you meant."

Silence. The hallway felt colder or maybe just heavier.

Ben rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling.

"Look," he said. "It's not that I don't think you can handle yourself. I know you can. I do. But I've known Luke since he was like fourteen. And guys, especially hockey guys, don't always think before they do shit. I just..."

He trailed off.

Tess leaned against the wall, the glass in her hand sweating. She hadn't even taken a sip.

"I just don't want you to get your feelings hurt."

Her chest felt tight, because that part was real. That was her brother. Too many pucks to the head, their mom always said. All heart, no filter.

Tess sighed. "I'm not an idiot, Ben."

"I didn't say you were."

"And I'm not in love with him, if that's what you're worried about."

Ben made a face. "Jesus, don't say it like that."

"I'm just saying--"

"Don't say anything," he cut in, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm trying really hard not to picture any of it and you're making it worse."

She cracked a smile, despite herself.

Ben groaned. "I'm literally going to drown myself in the lake."

"Tell Trevor to hold your ankles. He'll do it."

Ben snorted. "He'd charge money for that."

They were quiet for a second. Then softer...

"Are you okay?"

Tess looked at him. Not like the guy who used to throw her in the pool fully clothed or steal her fries or make fun of her for crying during The Notebook.

Just... Ben.

And in spite of everything, the embarrassment, the mess, the aching confusion in her chest, she nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm okay."

Ben looked at her for another beat, like he was checking. Then he stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, tight and fast, like he was trying not to make it a thing.

"You better be," he mumbled.

Tess rolled her eyes. "Okay, you can let go now. You're sweating on me."

"Don't act like you're not loving this moment."

"I'll throw you off the boat tomorrow."

"Respectfully?"

"Respectfully."

~~

Tess stood in the hallway, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, staring at the door in front of her. Luke's door. It wasn't the first time she'd stood there, not even the second. But this time felt different.

He still hadn't said anything to her, even after the boat. He hadn't spared her a look at dinner either.

And still, she was standing there.

Not because she wanted sex. Not even because she really wanted him. She just wanted to know. She was so fucking tired of not knowing.

She knocked once and then opened the door.

Luke was sitting on his bed, leaning back against the headboard, hoodie on with the hood up, phone in hand, scrolling mindlessly, but he stopped halfway when the door opened.

He looked up as she entered, no reaction.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey."

She stood there, looking at him for a few seconds before deciding to speak her mind.

"I need to ask you something."

Luke shifted, lowering his phone. "Okay."

Tess walked closer, sat on the edge of the bed, far enough to breathe, but close enough to feel a little uneasy.

She looked down at her hands. "Is this just... being horny?"

He blinked. "What?"

"This," she gestured vaguely between them. "Is it just... being horny? The summer? Being stuck in the same house for too long?"

Luke didn't answer right away.

She went on. "Are we bored? Or lonely? Or is this--"

"Something?" he offered quietly.

Tess nodded. "Yeah. Something."

Luke leaned forward, eyes on the floor.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "Maybe it's all of that."

Tess exhaled slowly. "Feels like I should know, but I don't."

"Me neither."

"When did it get weird?"

Luke gave her a small smile. "You mean when it did it just stop being a normal summer?"

"Yeah."

He thought for a second. "I think I always kind of noticed you. But not like... that. Not until last year. Maybe the year before."

"Seriously?"

"You were always just Ben's little sister," he said, almost apologetically. "Then you weren't."

Tess leaned back on her hands. "Jack was my first crush, you know."

Luke snorted. "No shit. You followed him around like a lost dog."

"I was thirteen."

"You were obsessed."

She shoved his knee gently. "Shut up."

Luke's smiled lingered.

"I used to think you were annoying," she said. "Like, irritating little-brother energy."

"Thanks."

"But now..." Tess trailed off. "Now I think I'm screwed."

Luke looked at her. Really looked at her.

"Yeah," he said. "Me too."

She laughed once, quietly, surprised by how tired she felt all of a sudden. Like the weight of pretending had finally taken it's toll on her body.

Luke reached out and gently touched her knee.

It wasn't a move. He wasn't trying to start anything. It was just comforting. And maybe that's what made it different.

She lay back on the bed eventually, not in a rush.

He shifted beside her, pulled off his hoodie, and turned down the lamp until the room went dim and soft. Tess curled into his side, one arm tucked under her head.

"Is this a mistake?" she asked, barely a whisper.

"Probably."

She turned her head, meeting his eyes.

"But you don't want me to leave, do you?"

He didn't answer.

She moved closer and his arm slid under her neck. Her hand settled on his chest and slowly, her breathing evened out.

Sleep came easier than she expected.

Luke stayed awake a little longer. He looked down at her--her face calm, lips parted, lashes dark against her cheeks--and sighed.

Because he was so fucked.

~~

Newark was colder than Tess had expected. It wasn't even winter yet, just late November, but the air bit through her coat as she walked out of the arena. She pulled her scarf tighter, phone buzzing in hand as she walked past waves of Devils fans in black and red merch, all filing out of the building.

The game had been good, fast, full of chirps and shoulder checks. Ben's team had lost by one, but it was close, and no one had dropped the gloves, so it didn't qualify as a complete disaster.

Tess had spent most of the night in the family section, hood up, hat down, trying not to think too hard about who was on the ice. Ben, obiously. But also Luke.

Luke, 43. Luke, who had two assists and chewed so much on his mouth guard Tess thought it was going to fall out onto the ice.

Now, the crowd was thinning. And her phone buzzed again.

Lukey: Meet me by the players' lot. Black BMW SUV. Five minutes

Tess smiled to herself and headed back toward the arena.'

The car door opened as soon as she reached it. Luke was in the driver's seat, damp hair curling at the ends, post-game flush still on his face.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You looked good tonight," she said casually, buckling in.

Luke smirked. "You stalking me now?"

"You sent me your location."

He shrugged. "You found the car. Still counts."

Tess smiled. "Thought you were gone lose your mouth guard tonight. You chew on it like a fucking dog."

"You noticed?"

"Yeah."

Luke laughed, low and tired. "Stalker."

"Whatever."

They didn't go anywhere fancy. Just circled once, went through a drive-thru, and headed to her hotel without really discussing it. By the time they reached the room, Tess had kicked off her boots, dropped her bag, and was already tugging off her scarf while Luke stood in the doorway like he wasn't sure if he could let himself in.

She turned to him.

"You gonna stand there all night or...?"

That was all it took.

Her lips were on his, her hands under his Devils hoodie, his fingers brushing her jaw. Making up for months of not seeing each other in meer seconds.

They made it to the bed eventually, Tess settling into the fluffy hotel pillows. She laughed into his mouth as he tried to say something cocky, but she cut him off with a kiss before he could finish.

"Still think this is just a summer thing?" she whispered, biting gently at his bottom lip.

"Shut up," he mumbled.

After, they didn't rush to get dressed. Didn't rush to separate.

Tess lay on her stomach, the sheet half-draped over her hips, cheek pressed into the pillow. Luke was beside her, tracing slow, lazy shapes on her bare back with his fingertips--circles, lines, a crooked heart.

Her eyes were closed. Not asleep, just still.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Mm?"

"You gonna be here tomorrow?"

She didn't answer right away.

Then, "No, I'm flying home in the morning."

He nodded, even though she couldn't see it.

"Come to bed," she said softly.

He shifted under the covers, pulling her close, one arm slung over her waist. Their legs tangled, her hand finding his out of instinct.

~~

Luke rolled carefully, one arm bracing himself as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for his shirt on the floor.

Tess blinked awake behind him, hair mussed, eyes still heavy.

She watched him in the morning light, broad back, sleep-creased skin, fading marks from her nails still visible if you knew where to look.

He moved to stand--

"Noooo," she mumbled, voice sleepy. "Lu... stay."

He froze. Turned.

She pulled the blanket higher, one eye barely open. "S'early..."

Luke stared at her, lips parted, heartbeat in his throat.

Because he knew what that was.

His line. From the first morning. The one he hadn't really meant to say.

Tess buried her face in the pillow. "Don't look at me like that."

He smiled, shaking his head.

And laid back down beside her.

[lee-laurent]

gonna write tonight!!

[lee-laurent]

kk i ended the poll early cause it had 50 votes and i thought that was good! it’ll be a luke fic!! hopefully coming this week!!

[lee-laurent]

guysss i saw multiple habs players today 😭😭 insane

[lee-laurent]

no wifi at the new place but once i get it back, i’ll write!!

[lee-laurent]

It's Hard to Keep Secrets -- Luke Hughes

Summary: sadie and luke get the shock of their lives

content: situationship, make out session, pregnancy, birth (not graphic), angst, fluff

wc: 8.4k

notes: hi guys! i hope you like this one, it took me a bit cause i didn't like the way it was going at first. lemme know what you wanna see in the future! i think a quinn fic is coming up!!

Sadie cracked open the door just wide enough for Luke to slip inside, the hallway light catching on the bright red of his Devils hoodie. His hair was messy under his backwards cap, cheeks pink from the cool air outside, and he was grinning like he was on some sort of super secret mission.

Technically, he was.

She stepped back to let him in, quickly locking the door behind him. Luke kicked off his sneakers with a soft thud, his movements the same as the hundred other times he'd done it before. He shrugged out of his hoodie, leaving it in a pile on the floor like he lived there, like it wasn't just another stolen night between them.

"You're late," Sadie whispered, voice low even though Sophia's room was at the other end of the apartment.

Luke shrugged, looking entirely unbothered as he padded after her toward her bedroom. "Blame Jack. He wouldn't stop talking about his NHL 25 win. Full play-by-play, for like an hour."

Sadie smiled without realizing, shaking her head as she pushed open her door. The moment it clicked shut behind them, Luke was on her, hands sliding under the hem of her sweatshirt, mouth finding hers with a heat more intense than that of the cheap radiator buzzing in the corner.

She kissed him back instinctively, fingers threading through the soft curls at the nape of his neck. Luke kissed the same way he played hockey--all energy and drive, but with a passion that made her chest ache if she thought about it too hard.

Which she didn't.

Thinking was dangerous.

Luke backed her toward the bed without breaking the kiss, both of them laughing quietly when Sadie's legs hit the mattress and she toppled backward. He followed her down easily, bracing himself with his elbow next to her head, hovering just enough to look at her face.

"Miss me?" he teased, voice rough and low.

Sadie rolled her eyes and yanked him down by the collar of his t-shirt. "Shut up."

Later, much later, Luke lay tangled in the sheets, one arm thrown across Sadie's waist, his breathing deep and even. His body was heavy in his sleep, anchoring her to the mattress.

Sadie stared at the ceiling in the dark, her heart still beating harder than it should've been.

This was normal now. Sneaking him in after games, stealing a few hours together, pretending in public like they only interacted at work. No labels. No promises.

Sophia's muffled sigh of annoyance drifted through the thin wall between their bedrooms, followed by the unmistakable creak of Sadie's bed as Luke shifted in his sleep.

Sadie clamped a hand over her mouth to smother her laugh. She was definitely getting an earful in the morning.

~~

Sunlight filtred weakly through the kitchen blinds, making the linoleum floor look even more pathetic than it usually did. Sadie shuffled in wearing Luke's abandoned hoodie, it hung halfway down her thighs, and found Sophia already at the counter, aggressively pressing buttons on the Keurig.

"Morning," Sadie croaked, dragging her hand through her hair until it caught on a knot.

Sophia didn't look up. "You and your boyfriend kept me up half the night," she said, voice flat. "I hope you're happy."

Sadie blinked blearily. "He's not my boyfriend."

Sophia turned slowly, holding out a coffee mug like it was a peace offering, or maybe a weapon. "Tell that to the three-hour amateur porn soundtrack I was forced to listen to."

The blonde wrapped her hands around the warm cermaic and bit back a grin. "You're being dramatic."

"Am I?" Sophia leaned against the counter, an eyebrow cocked. "Because if I have to hear Luke Hughes groaning your name through the wall one more time, I'm gonna start charging you for the therapy I'll have to attend."

Sadie blew on the coffee, not meeting her best friend's eyes. "We're... you know it's not serious."

Sophia snorted. "Could've fooled me. Guy's here more than Uber Eats."

She didn't bother defending herself. What was the point? Luke tended not to correct Sophia when she called him her boyfriend. He didn't act like it was just sex when he lingered after, tracing patterns on her hip or scratching her head until they both drifted off.

But they'd never said it out loud. That was the rule, unspoken but ironclad.

Sadie drained her coffee in a few gulps and headed back to her room to get ready for work. Another day of pretending everything was normal. Simple enough.

~~

The Hockey House at the Prudential Center was buzzing when she arrived, players and staff moving between morning practices and meetings. She tucked herself in the flow, camera bag over one shoulder, work badge clipped to her quarter-zip.

She found a spot near the boards and pulled out her work phone, tapping through the dozens of pictures she'd taken at the game the night before. Quick edit, capation, post. Repeat.

On the ice, Luke skated backward, head on a swivel, sticking handling the puck with an ease that would've made her week in the knees if she weren't already used to him by now.

Jack skated up behind him, jabbing at him with the knob of his stick. Luke whipped around, laughing and pushing him in retaliation, and the two of them chirped each other loud enough for everyone to hear.

Sadie caught the moment out the corner of her eye, Luke's quick glance toward her, the smirk he tried (and failed miserably) to conceal.

She ducked her head quickly, pretending to fiddle with the settings on her camera.

Jack, of course, wasn't about to let it go.

"Rusty, stop trying trying to look cool for Sadie!" he called out, voice carrying across the ice.

A couple guys laughed. Luke shoved Jack hard enough to send him sliding. Sadie kept her expression neutral, but her fingers twitched around her phone, itching to text Sophia about it.

Business as usual.

Except for the part where Sadie's stomach twisted painfully, a low ache blooming deep in her gut. She pressed a hand against her abdomen, frowning slightly.

Cramps. Nothing new. Her period had been weird lately--lighter, shorter, but not enough to make her think anything of it.

Her phone buzzed. Sophia.

Soph: just got one of those posts that was like the first person in your share button is pregnant. if you're knocked up i'm suing you for even more emotional damages.

Sadie laughed under her breath and fired back a middle finger emoji, rolling her eyes.

Pregnant? Funny. She'd just had her period. Kind of. Mostly.

Everything was fine.

Totally, completely fine.

~~

Sadie woke up to a sharp twist of pain low in her abdomen. She groaned, curling tighter into herself under the blankets. Her room was still dark, the cheap digital clock on her nightstand blinking 7:12AM in angry red numbers.

She'd been dealing with cramps for days now, but this was worse. Deeper. Heavier.

Still. It was nothing a hot shower and an extra-strength Advil couldn't fix.

She hauled herself out of bed, wincing as she stood, and dragged on a pair of sweatpants and the first hoodie she could find, one of Luke's (of course) because half of her closet was unofficially his at this point.

The kitchen smelled like burnt toast and cinnamon cereal when she shuffled in. Sophia was perched on the counter, bare feet swinging, eating Froot Loops straight out of the box.

"You look like shit," she said through a mouthful of cereal.

Sadie grunted in response and headed straight for the coffee pot.

Sophia crunched loudly and gave her a once-over. "You're glowing, though. Remember what I texted you about. Pregnant women glow, right?"

Sadie flipped her off without turning around.

"I'm just saying. You're either pregnant or dying."

"Probably dying," Sadie muttered, pouring herself a cup of coffee and leaning heavily against the counter.

Sophia watched her for a long beat, the teasing fading from her eyes. "You good, though? Like for real?"

"Just cramps. Nothing new."

Sophia didn't look convinced, but she let it go, hopping off the counter and shoving the cereal box at Sadie. "Eat something before you pass out, idiot."

She rolled her eyes but grabbed a handful of cereal anyway, crunching absently as she scrolled through her notifications. Devils practice at 10AM. A TikTok scheduled to post at 9. A team meeting she wasn't invited to but would probably show up at anyway since her coworkers sucked at taking notes.

Busy day. No time to feel like shit.

~~

Sadie quickly tucked herself into the controlled chaos of the arena, phone in hand, camera on her shoulder, and her second coffee of the morning in the other.

Same as always. Smile, nod, get good content, stay mostly invisible.

Except she wasn't invisible, not really. Luke's eyes found her almost immediately when she stepped onto the edge of the practice rink. He didn't smile or wave--he never did when they were in public--but there was a flicker of something there. A caringness in his gaze.

Sadie lifted her phone and started recording as practice kicked off. Jack was being his usual self, cracking jokes at everyone within a fifty-food radius. Nice was focused, laser-locked on the drills. Luke looked good, fast, confident, but somewhat distracted compared to most days.

Or maybe that was just Sadie projecting. Because five minutes later, her stomach twisted so hard she nearly doubled over behind the bench.

She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing shallowly through her nose. Jesus. It felt like someone was wringing her insides out with their bare hands.

As soon as practice ended, her phone buzzed.

Lu: You okay? You look kinda pale today

Sadie swallowed hard, texting back:

Sadie: fine. just tired

She forced herself to focus on her work, wiping the sweat from her forehead. It was just cramps. Bad ones, sure. But she wasn't going to make a scene at work over something stupid.

~~

By the time she got home, she was ready to collapse.

Sadie tossed her bag down and immediately sank onto the couch, grabbing her heating pad from the basket of blanket, then curling into the corner like a wounded animal. She fumbled with the remote and flipped through channels until she landed on some trashy reality dating show, the noise comforting in it stupidity.

She barely registered Sophia's footsteps until the other girl flopped onto the couch beside her, a bag of chips in her lap.

"You look worse," she said bluntly.

Sadie didn't even argue. She hugged a heating pad tighter to her stomach and closed her eyes. "Still dying."

Sophia muted the TV, brows drawn together. "You seriously don't think something's wrong?"

Sadie cracked one eye open. "It's cramps. I'm not gonna waste three hundred dollars at urgent care to be told to take some Midol."

Sophia hesitated, then reached out and touched Sadie's forehead like a worried mom. "You're sweating."

Sadie batted her hand away, embarassed.

But a sharp bolt of pain made her whole body jolt a second later, and she gasped without meaning to, folding over herself.

"Okay, nope, we're done," Sophia said, standing up so fast the chip bag toppled onto the floor. "Get up. We're going to the clinic."

Sadie shook her head, stubborn. "Sophia--"

"No. I'm not gonna sit here and watch you pass out on the couch. Get. Up."

Sadie tried to protest again, but the wave of pain nearly knocked the wind out of her. Tears sprang to her eyes, unbidden.

She didn't even remember standing. One minute she was hunched over, and the next Sophia was hauling her toward the door, shoving sneakers onto her feet and grabbing her car keys with a muttered, "If you die in my passenger seat I swear to god..."

The drive to the walk-in clinic was a blur. Sadie sat curled into herself, forehead pressed to the cold window, breathing shallowly as Sophia broke every speed limit on the way there.

Luckily, the clinc was half-empty.

Sophia bullied the receptionist into fast-tracking Sadie, and within minutes, she was in a freezing exam room, trying not to throw up from the pain.

The nurse was kind but brisk. Asked her a million questions Sadie barely registered. When was your last period? Any chance you could be pregnant? Any nausea? Fainting? Or bleeding?

Sadie answered automatically: Last week. No chance. Just cramps.

The nurse frowned but nodded, handing Sadie a plastic cup for a urine sample and promising the doctor would be in soon.

So she sat on the edge of the paper-covered exam table, shivering, arms wrapped around her middle.

Sophia paced the tiny room, muttering under her breath about worst-case scenarios.

Sadie tuned her out, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing, the way the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, the way her whole body felt like it was floating and anchored down all at once.

She was fine.

It was nothing.

It had to be nothing.

~~

She had moved her focus to the sterile white walls of the exam room when the door opened again.

The doctor was young, maybe mid-thirties, with kind eyes and a clipboard tucked under his arm. He didn't smile. Didn't joke. Just stepped inside and shut the door careufully behind him, like he was containing something dangerous.

Oh my god, maybe she was contagious.

Sadie sat hunched on the table, one hand pressed to the deep cramp in her lower abdomen, the other gripping the edge so hard her knuckles were white. Sophia stood off to the side, arms crossed, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Hi, Sadie. I just got the results from your urine catch. I was going to order a bedside ultrasound, but I've decided against it here."

Sadie blinked at him, confused as ever. "Okay...?"

The doctor pulled a stool over and sat, his voice low and even. "I know this is going to sound impossible, but you're not just cramping. You're in active labour."

Sadie stared at him.

And then, out of reflex, she laughed, although it was completely humourless. "No, I'm not. I had my period. I have my period. Last week... it's been lighter, but... I would know."

Sophia stiffened like she'd been struck, eyes wide as saucers.

The doctor nodded patiently, like this was the reaction he had been expecting. "I believe you. It's rare, but cryptic pregnancies happen more often than people realize. Sometimes hormone levels stay low enough that you don't stop bleeding. Sometimes symptoms are mild enough that they're mistaken for normal cycle changes."

Sadie shook her head, trying to physically shake off his words. "No. No way. I'd know. I'd feel different."

"You didn't," the doctor said gently. "But it's happening. Would you mind if I did a quick exam to see how far dialated you are? We need to transfer you to a hospital as soon as possible."

Sadie nodded, opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. The room was tilting sideways. She tasted acid at the back of her throat.

"You're about five centimetres dialated."

Sophia finally moved, stepping forward. "Is it... I mean... is the baby okay?"

"We won't know until we get to labour and delivery," the doctor said, standing. He opened the door, calling down the hall for an ambulance.

Sadie sat frozen on the table, heart hammering wildly against her ribs.

A baby. A baby. Inside her. Right now.

Tears blurred her vision. Her hands were shaking. She couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Sophia was suddenly in front of her, crouching to meet her eye level. "Hey. Hey. Sadie, listen to me. It's okay. It's gonna be okay. You're not alone."

Sadie let out a hysterical little laugh. "Soph, there's a fucking baby."

"I know," Sophia said, her voice wobbling just a little. "We're gonna handle it."

The EMTs arrived in a blur of noise and flashing lights. They helped Sadie onto a gurney, strapping her down carefully. The pain was coming in faster now, like waves hitting too hard against a crumbling bridge.

Someone was talking to Sophia--paperwork, hospital forms-- but Sadie couldn't focus. She was being wheeled through the clinic, the cold air hitting her sweat-damp skin like a slap.

"Is there someone you want us to call?" one of the EMTs asked kindly as they loaded her into the ambulance.

Sadie squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted her mom. She wanted Sophia. She wanted everything to go back to the way it was hours before.

Another contraction hit, sharp and vicious, and she gasped.

Sophia appeared in the doorway of the ambulance, holding Sadie's phone.

"Who should I call?" Sophia asked, voice urgent.

Sadie clutched at the stretcher rails, breathing hard. Her mind went blank, then filled with one image:

Luke.

Luke's stupid, soft curls. Luke's steady hands. Luke's smile when he thought she wasn't looking.

"Luke," she croaked. "Call Luke."

Sophia didn't argue. She turned and bolted toward her car, fumbling with the phone as the ambulance doors slammed shut and the siren wailed to life.

~~

Luke was sprawled across his bed, half-watching a movie, when his phone buzzed.

Sadie.

A weird pit opened in his stomach. She never called him during the day, especially when she had work to get done at home.

He answered immediately. "Hey's, what's--"

"LUKE," Sophia's voice exploded through the speaker, shrill with panic. He shot upright, his heart slamming into his ribs.

"What's--what's wrong?"

"You need to get to University Hospital right now," Sophie said breathless, near tears. "Sadie's in labour."

Luke's brain flatlined for a full two seconds.

"Labour?!" he repeated stupidly.

"YES. LABOUR. BABY. NOW. MOVE YOUR ASS." Sophia hung up without waiting for a response.

Luke sat frozen for half a second longer, then the adrenaline kicked in.

He grabbed the first hoodie he could find and bolted into the hall, sprinting to Jack's room.

Jack opened the door, hair sticking up in every direction, looking like he'd just been woken up.

"Dude--?"

"I gotta go," Luke gasped, already halfway down the hall. "Sadie's--Sadie's having a baby."

Jack's face went through about six stages of confusion before Luke disappeared out the front door.

~~

Sadie felt like she was floating above her own body by the time they wheeled her into the labour and delivery unit.

The pain was constant now, rolling through her like a freight train. She could hear monitors beeping, nurses shouting orders, the bright clinical lights in her eyes again.

"Almost there, Sadie," a nurse soothed, adjusting something on her IV. "You're doing so good."

Sadie didn't feel good. She felt like she was dying.

And then--

A flash of movement at the door.

Luke.

He stumbled into the room, hair wild, hoodie half-zipped, sneakers untied, eyes huge and horrified.

He looked at her like she was the only thing in the world.

"I'm here," he said, voice cracking. He crossed to her bedside in two strides and grabbed her hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

Sadie didn't even think--she clutched at him like a lifeline, squeezing his hand until her fingers ached.

The doctor glanced at the monitors and nodded. "Okay, Sadie. It's time to push."

Sadie turned her head, met Luke's wide, terrified eyes. Neither of them said anything. They didn't have to.

The world had already split wide open.

~~

Sadie didn't even realize she was screaming until her throat was raw.

Everything blurred, the bright lights, voices shouting encouragements, Luke's hand crushing hers. Sweat dripped down her temples. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe, could only push because her body had taken over.

"You're almost there!" the nurse was saying, way too cheerfully.

Luke was leaning in close, forehead nearly touching Sadie's. His voice was low and frantic. "You're doing so good, Sadie. You're so strong. I'm right here."

Tears stung her eyes from the pain, the fear, from the sharp reality of it all.

This was happening.

There was no way of stopping it now.

Another contraction ripped through her and she bore down, every muscle straining, vision going white around the edges. Luke squeezed her hand harder.. or maybe she squeezed his. She couldn't tell anymore.

One final push and--

A sharp, wet cry filled the air. Tiny, raw, and very real.

Sadie gasped, her whole body sagging back against the bed. The pain ebbed instantly, replaced by something heavier, something dizzying.

There was a baby crying.

Her baby.

Their baby.

She blinked through tears and saw the nurses moving fast, bustling around the tiny, squirming form. Sadie caught a glimpse, wrinkled skin, wild flailing arms, before they whisked the baby over to a warming table.

She tried to sit up but her body was boneless, trembling.

Luke stayed rooted by her side, looking completely wrecked. His face was pale as hers, his eyes leaking tears.

A nurse touched his arm, smiling kindly. "Dad? You want to come meet her?"

Luke looked at Sadie, silently asking for permission.

She gave a tiny nod, throat too tight to speak.

He stumbled forward like he wasn't sure how his legs worked anymore, hovering awkwardly by the table where their daughter was being cleaned and checked.

Sadie watched through blurred eyes as Luke bent over the baby. She saw him reach out a shaking finger, saw the way his whole body jerked when the baby's tiny, hand curled around it instinctively.

Luke made a choked-off sound, half-laugh, half-sob, and wiped at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie like he could pretend he wasn't crying.

Sadie bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Something inside her cracked.

Luke turned back toward her, cradling a tiny pink bundle in his arms like she was made of spun sugar.

He crossed the room in careful steps and sat down gently on the edge of her bed, holding out their daughter.

She automatically reached for her, hands trembling so badly Luke had to help her adjust her grip.

The second her baby was in her arms, Sadie felt it-- The click. The one everyone always talked about. The way her whole world shifted and snapped into place around this tiny, squirming perfect thing.

"Oh my God," she whispered, tears spilling over. "Hi, baby. Hi."

The baby blinked up at her, mouth puckered.

"She's... she's so small," Sadie said hoarsely, like the words couldn't possibly hold enough weight.

Luke laughed weakly, wiping his eyes. "She's perfect."

Sadie couldn't argue.

~~

They let her rest for a while--as much as anyone could with nurses checking her vitals every ten minutes and monitors beeping constantly.

Luke never moved more than a few feet away.

Sophia finally made it to the hospital after the adrenaline had worn off enough for her to drive safely. She peeked into the room with red-rimmed eyes and mouthed holy shit when she saw the baby curled up on Sadie's chest.

Sadie gave her a shaky thumbs-up.

An hour later, a nurse came in with a clipboard and huge grin.

"We need to fill out the birth certificate before we can start even thinking about discharging you," she said, flipping to the appropriate page.

Sadie's stomach twisted. She clutched her baby tighter, heart speeding up again.

The nurse smiled again. "Name for the baby?"

Sadie swallowed hard. She hadn't thought this far ahead, hadn't had any time to think, but the name slipped out, soft and sure.

"Elisabeth," she said. "Elisabeth Jeanne Howard."

The nurse scribbled it down. "Beautiful name? And what's your name, Dad?"

Sadie's whole body locked up.

Luke was sitting in the chair next to the bed, Elisabeth's tiny hat clutched loosely in his big hands. He looked up at her then, not demanding or pleading, just waiting.

Waiting to see if she was going to let him be part of this.

Sadie's throat closed up. Her mind raced: It would be easier if it was just her name. Cleaner. Simpler. Safer.

Luke could walk away. He should walk away. He wasn't supposed to stay. They weren't supposed to be like this.

But when she looked at him, his hoodie rumpled, his hair a mess, his eyes still red, she knew.

She couldn't erase him from this. Not when he showed up. Not when he stayed.

Sadie nodded, voice barely a whisper.

"Luke Hughes. He's the father."

Luke exhaled a shaky breath, nodding back like she'd just given him the universe.

The nurse beamed and filled in the rest of the form, humming under her breath.

Sadie leaned back against the pillows, every muscle trembling with exhaustion. She stared up at the ceiling, blinking hard against the fresh wave of tears that had hit her.

Beside her, Luke shifted closer. Sadie turned her head just enough to see him lift Elisabeth from her chest, whispering nonsense under his breath like she was the most important thing he'd ever seen.

Sadie let her eyes flutter shut.

The world outside the hospital room was still turning. But inside, for one perfect moment, everything else had faded away.

It was just them.

Sadie. Luke. Elisabeth.

And a future she hadn't planned for, but could maybe, just maybe, survive.

~~

Sadie thought that leaving the hospital would make things feel normal. Like maybe once they were back in the apartment, she could pretend this was just another weird, bad dream she could wake up from.

It didn't work.

Sophia helped balance the ridiculous number of bags and folders the nurses had given them while Sadie clutched Elisabeth like she was made of glass. Luke hovered so close it was a wonder he didn't physically carry both of them to the car.

Loading Elisabeth into the car seat (one they'd sent Sophia to get) was an absolute disaster.

Sadie fumbled with the straps, her hands shaking so badly she couldn't figure out which clip went where. Elisabeth let out a wail that sliced right through Sadie's already fraying nerves.

"I'm hurting her," she panicked, blinking back tears. "I'm already fucking this up."

"Hey, no, you're not," Luke said quickly, scooching in to help. His hands weren't much steadier. "We'll figure it out. She's okay."

"Barely," Sophia muttered as she elbowed Luke out of the way and buckled the car seat in two quick moves.

Sadie sagged into the passenger seat, still physically and emotionally drained, listening to Elisabeth's tiny cries of discomfort in the backseat.

Yeah, definitely not a dream.

The apartment felt different when they got back even though nothing had physically changed.

Sadie set the carrier down in the middle of the living room, not sure what the hell to do next.

Sophia grabbed their stack of takeout menus from the junk drawer and disappeared into the kitchen, muttering about needing to eat or she was gonna pass out. Luke stood awkwardly beside Sadie, shifting from foot to foot, looking just as lost.

Then Elisabeth started crying again, the sound instantly making Sadie's chest ache.

She tried to pick her up, tried to rock her like the nurse had shown her how to do at the hospital, but Elisabeth's face screwed up even tighter, her little fists waving angrily.

"Uh... maybe she's hungry?"

Sadie stared at him. "Cool. So you breastfeed her."

Sophia barked out a laugh from the kitchen.

Luke flushed but didn't back down. "Didn't they give you some bottles? Formula?"

Sadie almost cried from relief when she remembered the little starter packs the hospital had shoved into her bag. Luke ripped one open and started reading the instructions out loud while Sadie stumbled through mixing the powder and water with her shaky hands.

The first eating out of the hospital was a disaster, half the bottle ended up on Sadie's shirt, but Elisabeth drank it down, making little coos as she enjoyed her meal.

By late afternoon, Sadie was fading fast. Her whole body felt like it was aching. Elisabeth was sleeping, again, swaddled awkwardly but securely thanks to some frantic googling. Sophia was passed out in the armchair, one hand still clutching her half-eaten granola bar.

Sadie couldn't blame her.

Luke stood up, stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to flash a strip of his toned stomach. Sadie quickly looked away.

"I'm gonna go shower and grab some stuff," he said quietly. "You'll be okay?"

She nodded, even though the thought of him not being there made her even more anxious. She pulled the laundry basket that had turned into a makeshift bassinet closer, breathing in that new baby smell.

Luke hesitated. For a second, it looked like he wanted to say something important but he just leaned down and ran his thumb over Elisabeth's cheek before slipping out the door.

~~

Jack was waiting.

The second Luke opened the apartment door, Jack was standing there in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, eyebrows practically up to his hairline.

"Okay," Jack said, voice tight. "Start talking."

Luke kicked the door shut behind him and ran a hand through his hair, feeling ten years older than he had the day before.

"It's... a lot."

Jack snorted. "You think?"

Luke flopped onto the couch, head in his hands.

There was no easy way to say it, so he just ripped the plaster right off.

"Me and Sadie... we've been, uh, seeing each other."

Jack blinked. "You mean fucking?"

Luke groaned. "For two years... a few weeks after I got here."

"TWO YEARS?!" Jack choked.

"Yeah."

The older boy paced in front of him like a caged animal. "And you didn't tell me? Your own brother? I thought we were cool, man."

"We are! I just... it wasn't--it wasn't supposed to be serious."

"You said she was in labour?" Jack stared at him. "You just had a baby with her?"

Luke scrubbed his hands over his face. "I KNOW."

"So what, you're together now? You're dating? You're what?"

Luke swallowed audibly.

"We're not focused on figuring that out right now," he said finally, voice rough. "But yeah. She's, uh, she's not doing this alone. I'm not bailing."

"Good. Cause if you bailed, I'd kick your ass."

"You'd try," Luke laughed weakly.

There was a heavy silence between them as they both took the time to process what was happening.

Then Jack perked up.

"So... can I tell the guys?"

Luke gave him a look.

"Absolutely not. Nobody can know yet. Not until Sadie and I figure it out. Promise me, Jack."

Jack sighed dramatically, but reached his hand out to shake his brother's. "Fine. I swear. Not a word."

Luke didn't feel relaxed.

He knew Jack. Secrets never stayed secret for long.

~~

The first couple days after Sadie disappeared, nobody thought much of it. Social media was always chaotic, schedules changed last minute, people missed games for personal stuff, it wasn't weird.

But by day four, the whispers started.

Sadie's absence wasn't just a day or an emergency doctor appointment. She was just gone. No warning, no cover posts, no subtitute lined up to watch over the Instagram and TikTok.

Someone from ticketing mentioned it first, standing around the coffee machine in the break room.

"Anybody heard from Sadie?" she asked, casually, like it was nothing.

A guy from PR shrugged. "Maybe she quit."

Another assistant chimed in, lowering her voice like she was afraid Sadie might appear out of thin air. "I heard she had a baby."

The room went silent.

Someone snorted. "Sadie? A baby? No way?"

"No, seriously," the assistant insisted. "My roommate's friend works at the hospital. She said Sadie came in last week in labour. Like... didn't even know she was pregnant."

Another beat of stunned silence.

"Bullshit," someone said finally.

"Swear to god," the assistant said, crossing her heart. "Arrived in an ambulance, labour and delivery, boom. Baby."

Nobody knew what to do with that information.

It didn't take long for the rumour to hit the locker room.

Players trickled into the locker room, sweaty from morning skate. Luke sat in his usual spot, untying his laces, heart pounding harder than normal.

"Yo, you hear about Sadie?" Dawson called across the room, towel slung around his neck.

"What about her?" Timo asked.

Dawson grinned. "Supposedly she had a baby."

Half the room laughed like he'd just told a bad joke.

"Sadie? Nah," Nico said, shaking his head. "There's no way. I saw her like, last week. She looked fine."

"She's always wearing sweatshirts, man," Dawson said. "Maybe you just didn't notice."

"Still," Timo said, frowning. "Was she even dating anyone?"

That sent another ripple through the group. Nobody could remember her even mentioning a boyfriend, let alone looking pregnant.

"She always kept to herself," someone muttered.

Luke kept his head down, taking off his pads with more focus than necessary, pretending he didn't hear a word of it.

Beside him, Jack was weirdly quiet.

Too quiet.

And when Dawson made a joke about how maybe Sadie had a secret life, Jack visibly flinched.

Luke glanced sideways to see Jack muttering under his breath, almost too low to catch.

"If anyone knew her secret life, it was Luke."

His stomach dropped.

Nobody reacted, too much noise, too much movement. But a young intern standing near the doorway raised an eyebrow. He didn't say anything. Just slipped out of the locker room a few seconds later, phone already out in hand.

Jack realized what he'd done half a second later, eyes wide, mouth opening to apologize.

Luke shook his head tightly. Too late. He knew with a sick certainty that it wouldn't take long now.

~~

Upstairs, in the offices behind the glass walls of the Prudential Center, the gears were already starting to turn.

The staff who needed to know already knew: Sadie was out on emergency leave. She had a healthy baby girl. It was a private matter. No need for an official announcement, social media posts, or a team statement. Yet.

But Sadie wasn't just anyone. She was on the content team. She was constantly around players. And now there were rumours swirling that one of those players, maybe several, had known a lot more than they were supposed to.

It wasn't hard for the whispers to make their way up the chain.

When HR got the tip that Luke Hughes and Sadie Howard might have crossed professional lines?

They flagged it immediately.

Luke knew something was wrong the second he stepped off the ice the next day. The way the coaching staff looked at him. The way one of the HR reps was standing just inside the tunnel, arms folded.

He didn't get pulled... not yet. Not today at least.

But the look on their faces told him everything he needed to know.

Time was up.

~~

Luke had just finished his first warm-up lap when he saw them.

Two HR reps, black blazers and stiff expressions, standing behind the bench like they had a death warrant in their hands.

His stomach dropped to his feet.

Coach Keefe skated over to Luke mid-drill, murmured something low and tight. Luke's chest squeezed when he heard the words: "You need to come with us."

The entire team was watching. Not a full stop, but enough that the mood shifted. Eyes followed him as he skated off, taking off his gloves with jerky movements. Jack caught his gaze briefly, brows pinched together in worry.

Luke kept his head down as he stepped off the ice, tugging a hoodie over his damp hair, suddenly feeling very exposed.

The HR reps said nothing as they led him down the hall, the click of their shoes echoing off the concrete walls.

Luke already knew what was coming. He just didn't know how bad it would be.

The conference room felt colder than the rink. Sleek, glass table. Leather chairs. A pitcher of untouched water in the centre. HR, legal, two guys from upper management, all sitting there like a jury.

Luke swallowed hard and sat when they motioned.

The lead HR rep, a woman with sharp eyes and a crisp file folder in front of her, started immediately.

"We've received a report regarding a potential violation of the organization's Code of Conduct."

Luke's palms went sweaty.

She continued, voice even, almost mechanical. "We have reason to believe that you've engaged in a romantic or sexual relationship with a member of the Devils' social media staff. Namely, Sadie Howard."

Luke's throat felt tight enough to cut off air. He forced himself to nod. "Yes. I have."

"How long has this relationship been ongoing?"

He could lie. He could say it was new, recent, barely started. But his gut twisted at the thought.

He didn't want to start this with a lie. Not about her. Not about Elisabeth.

"Two years," he said quietly. "Since my rookie season."

One of the legal guys whistled low under his breath before catching himself.

The HR woman kept her expression blank. "And you confirm the relationship was fully consensual?"

Luke lifted his chin. "Yes. Always."

More notes scratched onto legal pads.

"And you acknowledge that at no point was this relationship disclosed to management or HR as required by organizational policy?"

"No. It wasn't disclosed."

He could see it in their faces, the weight of that admission.

The HR rep closed her folder with a soft snap.

"We're evaluating next steps. There could be disciplinary action, including but not limited to suspension from team activities. Ms. Howard's employment status is also under review."

Luke's heart dropped even more. Sadie. She could lose her job. Because of him. Because of them.

He wanted to argue, to say it wasn't her fault, that she hadn't meant for any of this to happen. But the HR woman stood and smoothed down her jacket.

"You'll be informed of the organization's decision within the next twenty-four hours," she said crisply. "You're dismissed for the day. No media appearances. No contact with staff."

Meanwhile, across town, Sadie was fighting her own battle.

Elisabeth was wailing in her arms, tiny face scrunched and bright red. Sadie bounced her gently, humming nonsense under her breath, but it barely made a dent.

She was exhausted. Bone-deep.

The ring of her phone made her jump. She almost let it go to voicemail, but something in her gut told her to answer.

"Hello?" she cleared her throat.

"Ms. Howard?" The woman's voice was smooth and polite. "This is HR from the New Jersey Devils organization. We'd like to request you come in for a meeting regarding your employment status. Today, if possible."

Sadie's blood went cold. "I... I just had a baby," she stammered. "I'm on leave."

The woman didn't miss a beat. "We understand. This is a time-sensitive matter."

Time-sensitive. Employment status.

Someone knew. They knew about her and Luke.

Sophia came barreling into the room, took one look at Sadie's face and grabbed Elisabeth out of her arms.

"Go," Sophia said fiercely. "I've got her. Go do what you need to do."

~~

Luke was sitting outside the HR office when she got there. He stood the second he saw her. Sadie stopped short, heart cracking at the sight of him. Neither of them said anything. They didn't have to.

It was written all over Luke's face: I'm scared. I'm sorry. I'm here.

Sadie opened her mouth to ask what happened, to ask how bad it was, but a woman in a blazer stepped into the hall.

"Ms. Howard? We're ready for you."

Sadie forced herself to move, to walk into the conference room like she was a dead man on trial.

She sat down in the stiff leather chair, her back straight, her hands flat against the cool glass tabletop.

Across from her sat the same people Luke had met with, three faces she'd worked alongside for years, now looking at her like she was a liability they didn't know how to handle.

"Ms. Howard, we're here to discuss a violation of the organization's professional conduct policy. Specifically, the nondisclosure of a romantic relationship with a player currently on the New Jersey Devils roster."

Sadie swallowed hard but said nothing.

The HR woman flipped through a file. Sadie caught glimpses--notes on notes about her and Luke. It felt invasive.

"You admit to being involved with Luke Hughes for the past two years?" she asked, pen poised.

Sadie forced a nod. "Yes."

"And you understand that under organizational policy, you were obligated to disclose any personal relationship with players to HR at the outset?"

Sadie clenched her hands in her lap. "It wasn't--" She cut herself off, took a breath. "It isn't a relationship. Not officially. We weren't... aren't dating. It's private. We kept it separate from work."

One of the men leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "No one is accusing you of unprofessional behaviour in your job, Sadie. But perception matters. Risk matters. If the public were to find out and perceive bias, favortism, or worse, it damages the organization's credibility."

Sadie stared down the table at them.

They weren't wrong. Intent didn't erase risk.

The HR rep continued. "Effective immediately, you'll be placed on administrative leave pending an internal investigation. You'll retain your benefits, but you are not permitted to perform work duties or access any Devils facilities."

Sadie nodded numbly.

"Termination is a possibility, depending on the outcome of the review," the other man added, almost as an afterthought.

They dismissed her after that, politely, formally, like it made it easier. Like manners softened the blow of your entire life falling apart.

Luke was pacing the hallway when she walked out, sneakers squeaking against the polished floor.

Sadie brushed past him, head down, throat burning.

"Sadie--" he started, reaching out.

"Don't," she snapped, whipping around. Her voice cracked from how hard she was trying not to cry. "Don't you dare."

Luke's face crumpled, but he didn't move, didn't argue.

"This is my life, Luke," Sadie hissed, keeping her voice low because God forbid someone else overhear. "My career! The thing I worked my fucking ass off for. It's all I had."

Her chest heaved, watching Luke open and close his mouth. She wanted to punch something. She wanted to scream.

Instead, she said, bitter and broken, "I can't do this right now. I need to get home."

"I'll drive you."

The ride home was thick with silence. Sadie stared out the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest, blinking back furious tears. Luke gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing anchoring him to the earth.

Halfway home, the words started to spill from her mouth before she could stop them.

"I never planned this. Not the baby. Not sleeping with a guy from work. I had it all figured out. Graduate. Work for a sports team. Build a career. Be independent. Never have to rely on anyone but myself and Sophia from time to time."

She laughed, wiping her nose.

"And now I'm twenty-one, possible jobless, a single mom, and completely screwed."

Luke put the car in park as they rolled up to her building, turning to look at her.

"You're not alone," he said. "I know it feels like it, but you're not. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Sadie."

She didn't answer.

Sophia was waiting when they walked in, Elisabeth in her arms.

She took one look at Sadie's face and immediately handed the baby to Luke without a word, disappearing into her bedroom to give them space.

Luke shifted Elisabeth in his arms, moving carefully, like he was afraid to break her and Sadie.

Sadie sank down onto the couch, staring blankly at the TV that was playing a cooking show on mute. Her vision blurred and before she could stop herself, she turned into him, pressed her face into the fabric of his sweatshirt and sobbed. Big, ugly, shuddering sobs she hadn't even known were inside her.

Luke didn't say a word. He just stroked her hair until she cried herself to sleep, cuddled into his side.

~~

Back in the conference room, back in the stiff leather chair.

But this time, there was no waiting, no buildup.

The HR rep looked at him over a thin stack of papers.

"Mr. Hughes, we've concluded our investigation."

Luke nodded, trying not to bounce his knee under the table.

"Given the circumstances, the absence of workplace misconduct or complaints, we're opting for a formal reprimand. You will need to disclose any future relationships immediately. And be aware, any further incidents could lead to suspension or more severe consequences."

"Yes, ma'am," he said quickly.

She slid a paper across the table. "Sign here acknowledging receipt."

Luke signed without hesitation.

"And Mr. Hughes," she added, softer yet still professional, "congratulations on the birth of your daughter."

He blinked, completely caught off guard. He mumbled a "thank you" and practically bolted before they could change their minds.

~~

Sadie's meeting had been shorter, but no easier.

They'd told her she'd remain on leave for now. No termination. Not yet.

When--if-- she returned, she'd be placed on a three-month probation, monitored closely for any sign of unprofessional behaviour. One wrong move and she was out.

She had nodded, signed, agreed to everything without really hearing the words. She was focused on surviving. One hour, one day at a time. At least she still had a job.

~~

Luke braced himself as he walked into the locker room. Morning skate had just ended, but he'd been in his meeting.

Guys were half-dressed, laughing about something when they spotted him.

The room went dead silent. Every head turned.

Luke froze in the doorway, pocketing his phone.

Jack broke first. He grinned so wide it was almost blinding. Dawson followed, smirking like he was having the time of his life.

"HEY," he said loudly, standing up and pointing at Luke. "YOU HAD A WHOLE SECRET GIRLFRIEND AND A BABY?!"

The room erupted.

"What the fuck, Rusty?"

"No warning? No gender reveal party? Weak."

"Dude, you pulled Sadie? Respect."

"Was it your TikTok skills? Is that how you got her?"

Luke flushed red up to his ears, but he couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out. He shook his head, knocking Jack with his shoulder.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Jack was practically vibrating with glee, clapping Luke so hard on the back that he stumbled.

Nico, ever the team dad, gave Luke a nod. "Congratulations, Rusty. Seriously."

"Yeah," Siegs chimed in, grinning. "You're officially a hockey dad. Better start working on your minivan budget."

Laughter broke out around the room, guys elbowing each other, tossing chirps back and forth like it was any other day-- like Luke hadn't just dropped a nuclear bomb onto their normal lives.

But under all the jokes, Luke could feel the acceptance. No anger. No resentment. Just a weird, clumsy love. The only way hockey guys knew how to show it.

It was going to be okay. They had his back.

~~

Back at the apartment, Sadie was curled up on the couch, Elisabeth dozing in a bassinet beside her, Sophia scrolling through baby clothes online.

Lu: They know. They're not mad. They're actually being kinda annoying abt it lol

Sadie stared at the screen, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Sophia looked over, saw the look on her best friend's face, and smirked.

"Told you," she said, nudging Sadie with her socked foot. "He's not going anywhere."

~~

Sadie was curled up on the couch, one of Luke's hoodies swallowing her whole, bare legs tucked underneath her. Luke sat on the other end, close enough that their knees touched, hands fidgeting in his lap.

Elisabeth was finally asleep, bundled so tightly in her swaddle that she looked more like a burrito than a baby.

Sophia had left earlier, giving Sadie a pointed look and a mumbled excuse about "spending the night at Travis's place."

Sadie knew she was trying to give them space. She wasn't sure if she was grateful or terrified. Maybe a bit of both.

Luke cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "She's... cute when she's not screaming."

Sadie laughed. "Yeah. When she's quiet, I almost think I know what I'm doing."

He smiled, nervous. He rubbed the back of his neck the way he always did when he was anxious.

Sadie bit her lip, staring down at the worn throw blanket bunched up in her hands. She knew they couldn't avoid it any longer.

The conversation. The where do we go from here.

Luke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, voice low.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words rough. "For everything. For not protecting you better. For putting your job at risk. For... everything I guess."

Sadie opened her mouth to argue, to tell him it wasn't his fault, but he shook his head before she could.

"No. Just let me say it," Luke said. "You didn't ask for this. You didn't plan any of this. And you still handled it better than I ever could've."

Sadie blinked hard, tears burning behind her eyes.

Luke kept going, voice cracking at the edges.

"I don't expect anything, Sadie. I don't want to trap you into something you don't want. I just... I want to be here. For you. For her. Whatever you need."

Sadie stared at him.

At this boy, who was still so young but somehow had already given her more than most people twice his age ever would.

She closed her eyes, inhaling sharply.

"I'm scared, Luke," she whispered. "Like really scared, all the time."

He didn't flinch. He carefully shifted closer, like if he moved too fast, she'd run away.

"I'm scared too."

Sadie opened her eyes. Met his.

She saw it in his eyes, the fear. But also hope.

Stupid, stubborn hope.

She let out a shaky breath, her voice barely audible.

"I don't know what the future looks like. But I want you in it."

Luke's face crumpled for a second, before he reached out and pulled her into him.

The kiss wasn't frantic or desperate. It was slow, taking their time to show their love for each other. It was a promise. A beginning.

~~

Later, they lay tangled on the couch, the TV playing quietly in the background. Elisabeth snuffled in her sleep, her tiny fists twisting inside the swaddle.

Luke's hand found Sadie's, tracing slow patterns along her knuckles. He murmured nonsense about baby clothes and daycare options and future trips they could take together.

Sadie just listened, her heart so full it ached.

For the first time in forever, she let herself believe it. Believe in him, them, their future.

She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to Luke's shoulder, feeling the beat of his heart against her cheek. It wasn't the life she had planned. But it was one she was starting to see work out for her.

[lee-laurent]

i have an exam tomorrow and then i’m moving to a house on monday!!! making big adult moves 💪💪 but i should be back to writing soon! it’s gonna be a longgggg luke fic

[lee-laurent]

can u guys tell me what kind of fics you want to see? i feel like my nico one did pretty good but this latest one is just like whatever. maybe it’s cause it’s easter so im like in my head

[lee-laurent]

idk how i feel abt my last fic tbh. i feel like i can do so much better for you guys i just need to get back in the groove

[lee-laurent]

Hey There, Delilah - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke finally has a chance with Delilah Zegras. Or in which, Delilah Zegras isn't over her ex

content: fluff, angst, breakup, smoking, drinking, exes, kissing, zegras!oc x ex!matt rempe

wc: 6.7k

notes: idk how to feel abt this... but enjoy! also if u saw it before the title change, the (version 2) was because i rewrote it completely from my original draft

It was so damn humid.

That kind of sticky heat that made everything feel like it would be better if done barefoot and half-drunk. The lake shimmered past the treeline and the house buzzed with the slam of car doors, music blasting from a speaker, and the hum of a weekend that already smelled like cheap beer and sunscreen.

Luke was on cooler duty. Which meant standing on the porch with half-melted ice up to his elbows while Jack shouted about how "you can't just throw a thirty-rack on top of the coolers, Luke, Jesus."

Cole was already shirtless, naturally, and Quinn was somewhere inside, pretending that the chaos wouldn't grow by nightfall.

Luke wiped his hands on a towel and reached for another case of beer just as a car pulled into the gravel driveway behind him.

Trevor.

And--right. Her.

Delilah Zegras slipped out of the passenger side like she hadn't been gone for three years.

The air shifted. Or maybe it was just Luke's stomach.

She was older now--not in the tired, adult way, but in the subtle, glowing kind of way that came from too many summer days. Her hair was longer, curled in loose waves that looked like they had a mind of their own. She was tan, her legs bare under cutoff shorts, a simple tank top that stopped just above her waist. She wore sunglasses and a scowl and looked like she was already regretting being there.

Luke didn't move.

Trevor slammed the trunk shut and waved lazily toward the house. "We made it," he called.

Jack stepped out just in time to see the two of them. "Ayy, Z!" he shouted. "And the prodigal little sister returns."

Delilah gave him a small, close-lipped smile. "Hey, Jack."

"You remember everyone, right?" he asked, walking down the steps and pulling her into a hug before she could deflect it. "Cole's still an idiot, Quinn's still boring, and Luke's... somewhere."

Luke cleared his throat.

Jack turned, "Ah, there he is. Cooler boy."

Delilah's eyes flicked to Luke, expression unreadable behind her sunglasses. "Hey, Hughes."

"Hey," Luke said, as casually as possible.

He hadn't seen her since she was nineteen--back when she only wore Ducks hoodies and acted like everyone around her annoyed her. Even then, she'd been Trevor's snarky little shadow. Now she looked like someone who'd spent the last two months of her life drinking wine on her couch and trying not to cry.

Yet, she was also, somehow, even hotter than he remembered.

Luke turned back to the cooler before his brain could spiral.

~~

Inside was chaos.

Bags were dropped in the wrong rooms, someone was already searching for a bottle opener, and Quinn had his arms crossed in the kitchen like a parent watching a toddler birthday go off the rails. Cole was making a playlist, still shirtless and dancing like no one had asked him to.

Delilah trailed behind Trevor with her bag slung over her shoulder, scanning the place with the cautious eyes of someone trying not to seem out of place.

Luke hovered by the kitchen, cracking open a drink even though it wasn't late enough to justify it. Jack caught his eye and grinned.

"Dude," he mumbled under his breath. "You're staring."

"I'm not."

"You are. It's fine. She looks--"

"Don't."

Jack smirked, clearly entertained.

Luke didn't say anything else.

~~

By the time the group finally made it down to the dock, the sun was low and casting long shadows across the water. They'd all changed--swimsuits, loose t-shirts, bare feet thudding across wood. The lake lapped gently at the shore, and the air smelled like barbeque and spilled drinks.

Delilah sat near the edge of the dock, legs stretched out, sunglasses still on, one hand braced behind her as she leaned back to take in the last bit of sun. Her expression was calm, maybe even a little distant. Not unfriendly... just hard to read.

Luke tried not to look. He failed.

Every time he glanced over, she was laughing softly at something Treovr said or tossing her hair over one shoulder or stretching in a way that made Luke's brain short-circuit.

It was really fucking annoying.

She wasn't doing anything on purpose--she didn't even see him that way. She never had. He was just Luke. Trevor's friend. Jack's little brother. The kid who used to try too hard to make her laugh then they were preteens.

Now she was here, freshly heartbroken and wearing the hell out of a bikini top, and Luke didn't know what he was supposed to do with himself.

They stayed out late. Long enough for the dock lights to flicker on and cooler to run low. Someone sugested a drinking game. Trevor grilled more burgers. Cole fell off the end of the dock, fully clothed, and Delilah laughed, actually laughed.

Luke noticed.

He noticed that her face lit up when she smiled, even if it was for half a second. The way she flipped her phone over to check a little too often, even when no new messages came in. The way she turned down another drink and then accepted it anyway five minutes later. The weight she carried that she was pretending wasn't there.

And the way that Jack caught Luke staring again and said nothing, just raised his eyebrows and walked away.

Luke took a sip of his drink and sat a little further back, looking up at the stars in the sky. The stars you couldn't see in Newark.

He was gonna make it through this trip, even if it killed him.

~~

Delilah knew the sound of a hangover when she heard one.

Cole was groaning from somewhere down the hall. Jack was loudly asking who the hell had moved the chips. Someone dropped a plastic cup in the kitchen and then said "I meant to do that," which was obviously a lie.

She rolled over in bed and buried her face into the pillow.

Her room was quiet. Too clean. The kind of guest room that didn't look lived in, plain blue quilt, one sad framed photo of the lake, air slightly too cool from the fan humming in the corner.

It was a nice house. It smelled like cedar and sunscreen and expensive body wash.

But it wasn't hers. None of this was.

She rubbed her face and sat up slowly, head pounding.

There was a moment, half a second really, where she almost forgot... where it felt like just another vacation, another house full of boys laughing too loud and beer in the fridge and a lake waiting outside.

Then the ache in her chest settled back in like it had never left. The sharp reminder.

Matt.

Her mouth was dry. She reached for her phone on the nightstand, hoping for a weather app or a notificaiton or something other than his name.

Nothing.

But the fact that she even looked?

She hated that.

~~

By late morning, everyone was already halfway through breakfast beers and discussing who was in charge of lunch.

Delilah moved through the kitchen like background noise. Said yes when offered coffee, stood near the counter instead of sitting, smiled when spoken to.

Trevor kept glancing at her like he was waiting for her to crumble. It was annoying. She wasn't going to break. She was just... quiet.

Luke was at the sink washing a pan with his sleeves rolled up and a slice of toast between his teeth. She tried not to look at him too long. He didn't say anything to her, didn't stare, but there was a softness in his body language. Unbothered. Like he wasn't performing for anyone.

It made her feel even more out of place.

~~

They all ended up outside again by middday. The dock was scattered with towels and drinks, someone brought out the speaker again, and Jack declared it a "no shoes, no shirt, no baggage" zone.

Delilah was once again on the edge of the dock, sunglasses on, hoodie zipped despite the heat. Her legs dangled over the water, barely touching. She could hear everyone laughing around her--something about Cole trying to flirt with a bartender a few weeks before--but it felt like a different world.

She should've stayed in New York.

Or maybe gone to her parents'. Or literally anywhere else.

This was supposed to be her distraction--sun, drinks, no expectations.

But all it did was make her feel lonelier.

She didn't want to be that sad girl. She hated the way people looked at her now--like they were waiting for her to talk about it. Like they expected her to unload everything just because it made them uncomfortable to pretend it wasn't happening.

Luke sat down next to her without a word.

She blinked, startled out of her spiral. "Hey."

He handed her a can of something cool. "Tangerine or... mango? I panicked."

She took the mango without hesitation. "Thanks."

He shrugged. "You looked like you could use one."

She popped the tab open and took a slow sip.

They sat in silence, both staring at the lake waiting for it to answer all their questions.

After a minute, Luke nudged a bag of chips between them. "Also found these in the back of the cupboard. Probably stale."

She didn't reach for them. Just let the bag sit there like some kind of peace offering.

"Everyone's pretty chill," he said after a while. "If they're too much, you can just... disappear for a bit. No one'll take it personally."

Delilah nodded. "It's fine. I'm just tired."

"Not sure that's allowed here," he joked.

She just shrugged, but he didn't press. Didn't ask any more.

She wondered if that was worse, the patience.

He stood up after a few minutes when someone called his name. Before he left, he gave her a small half-smile. Not pitying, just... present.

She hated it.

~~

Delilah had showered, changed into dry clothes, and curled up in the corner of the living room with her phone. Everyone else was playing some aggressive, probably ruleless drinking game around the dining room table. Quinn was halfway invested and Jack was narrating every move like a sportscaster.

Trevor flopped down on the couch next to her.

"You okay?"

She didn't look up. "Fine."

"You've said maybe four words since we got here."

"I'm just tired."

"Del."

She finally met his eyes. He looked concerned, big brother concern. The kind that really got on her nerves.

"I'm here, aren't I?" she said.

"Yeah, but... are you here here?"

She exhaled and leaned back, rubbing her eyes. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"You know you don't have to fake it, right?"

"I'm not faking it."

"You're not fooling anyone."

She didn't answer.

"We're going out on the boat tomorrow. You better participate."

She gave him a tired thumbs up.

Alone again, she sank deeper into the couch. The laughter was still going. Someone had turned the music up louder, if that was even possible.

She checked her phone.

One notification.

Not a new one. Just him.

Matt: Thinking about you. Call me?

She didn't respond.

Didn't block him either.

Just locked the screen, pressed her forehead to her knees, and stayed quiet while the rest of the world kept moving.

~~

Late afternoons at the lake were one of the best parts of owning the house.

The sun hung low and the temperature got a bit more bearable, drinks got stronger, music got louder, and whatever plans had existed melted into the bottom of solo cup.

Jack called it "golden hour energy," or some stupid shit like that, meaning people got a bit more reckless.

This specific night, it meant beer pong.

They dragged a table out onto the back deck, cracked open another round of drinks, and started forming teams like their lives depended on it. Luke ended up standing by the railing with a drink in hand, watching the chaos unfold, when Jack slinked up beside him.

"You're being so fucking obvious."

"What?"

"Don't play dumb, Rusty. You're looking at her like she's a mirage."

Luke took a slow sip. "I have not."

"Oh my god," Jack said, delighted. "This is amazing!"

"She's our friend's sister."

"Exactly! That's why it's so much fun."

Luke rolled his eyes.

"Do you think she knows?" Jack chuckled.

"I'm not doing anything."

Jack cocked an eyebrow. "You gave her your mango seltzer and your chips yesterday. You never share food with like anyone."

"That's not--"

"And you haven't made eye contact with her for more than five seconds because you know you'll start blushing like a teenage girl."

Luke stayed quiet.

"Unreal," Jack said. "I fucking love this."

~~

Trevor was refilling his drink when Jack cornered him in the kitchen.

"Hey. So. Quick question."

Trevor shook his head. "No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

"Yes, I do."

Jack grinned. "Your sister's hot, man."

Trevor looked like he was debating whether to pour the rest of the vodka on Jack's head. "Don't start."

"I'm not saying I'm into her. I'm just noticing. And you should probably know that Luke is currently fighting for his life every time she walks by in that bikini."

Trevor sighed, hard. "He's not--ugh. No. No way."

Jack just looked at him.

Trevor's jaw clenched. "That's my sister, dude."

"Yeah, and Luke's not exactly a creep. If anyhting, he's too respectful. It's almost annoying."

"Do not encourage this."

Jack threw his hands up, innocent. "I'm not encouraging! I'm just observing. Like a scientist."

Trevor mumbled something under his breath and walked off, muttering something about "pushing Luke into the bonfire."

When they both got back outside, everyone was buzzed and shouting. The beer pong table was fully set up again, the unofficial second round. Jack was undefeated and way too smug about it. Delilah was sitting on a lawn chair, sipping something pink through a straw, watching it unfold like she was trying to decide if she wanted to join or not.

"Del!" Jack called. "You're up!"

She looked over. "Against who?"

"Team Us," Jack said, pointing between himself and Trevor, who was making a point to look anywhere but at her. "And your partner is... drumroll... Rusty!"

Luke looked up from where he was sitting on the steps.

Delilah raised an eyebrow.

"Come on! Don't be lame."

He stood slowly, walking over with half-nervous energy that made him look guilty even when he hadn't done anything wrong. He offered Delilah a small smile.

She smiled back, polite but still distant. At least she hadn't said no.

The game started off slow. They weren't great, but they weren't terrible. Delilah was the more competitive one, which caught Luke off guard. She got quietly pissed every time they missed a shot, and muttered "let me do it" before sinking three in a row.

"Damn," Luke said, impressed.

She barely looked at him. "Trevor and I used to hustle guys at parties."

He snorted. "Remind me not to play against you."

"Smart."

They lost by a cup, and Jack did a full victory lap around the table, yelling, "Undefeated! Put it on my fucking tombstone!"

Luke grabbed a drink from the cooler and passed one to Delilah without asking. She took it. Their fingers brushed, and neither of them said anything.

It was nothing. But it wasn't.

"Loser has to do a dock jump!" Jack announced. "Lukey, that means you!"

Delilah stood near the top of the dock, arms crossed, hair messy from the breeze. She looked at Luke, not in a big, obvious way, just a small glance.

But it was enough.

Luke sighed, handing his drink to Cole as he walked toward the edge. Jack and Trevor were cackling.

"You good, Rusty?" Jack asked with a grin.

Luke didn't answer. Just looked down once, back at the shore, at Delilah.

She met his eyes. Just for a second.

Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth.

Luke jumped.

~~

It was midnight by the time it was quiet outside.

Inside the music was still thumping and the boys were still shouting, but outside past the hum of the porch light, everything was still.

Luke stood on the dock, toes curled over the edge, shirt off, shorts low on his hips. He could still hear Jack and Trevor laughing from earlier: "You lost, dude. Strip and jump, that's the rule."

So he did.

Trevor had doubled over, tears in his eyes. "You look like a wet dog," he'd choked out when Luke came back up, soaked and gasping.

Now the chaos had moved inside, and Luke was alone, dripping, staring at the dark water.

Until the sliding door squeaked open.

Delilah.

She stepped out barefoot, hoodie halfway zipped, drink in hand. Her hair was down again, loose from the ponytail she'd worn during pong, and her eyes were glossy in that way that said tipsy, not quite drunk, but close.

Luke turned slightly. "Hey."

She raised her eyebrows. "I can't believe you really jumped."

He pointed to his soaked hair. "You're telling me?"

She smiled, small, amused. "Trevor's still crying laughing."

Luke smirked. "He'll live."

There was a beat of silence. The music inside muffled.

"Is it cold?"

"Kinda perfect."

She set her drink down on the dock, kicked off her hoodie.

"You're not gonna--?"

But she already was, tugging her shorts down, peeling off her tank top. Underneath: a plain black bra and underwear. Nothing fancy. But Luke still forgot how to breath.

He turned around fast, like an idiot. "I didn't mean--I wasn't trying to--"

"You've seen a girl in her underwear before, right?" she called behind him, amusement laced through her voice.

He let out a shaky breath. "Yeah. Just... didn't expect it."

A splash.

He turned just in time to see her surface, hair slicked back, eyes closed for a second. Then she looked at him, blinking water from her lashes.

"Well?" she asked.

He didn't hesitate.

Luke jumped into the water for the second time that night.

They swam for a while. Not really talking, just floating near each other. Every now and then their arms would bump. Their knees. The lake was quiet in the way only summer nights could be, everything felt suspended. Lit only by stars and the distant porch lights.

Luke kept looking at her.

She was bloating on her back, arms out, her stomach rising and falling just above the water's surface. Hair spread out like seaweed. Eyes closed.

He was sure she didn't even know he was watching.

She did.

Delilah rolled over in the water and swam toward him, slow, unhurried. They met halfway between the dock and the boat.

"You're quiet," she said.

Luke shrugged. "You're floating around in your underwear. Kinda hard to focus."

She grinned, drunk and lazy. "So you are looking."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean... I guess."

They drifted closer. Neither of them moved away.

Delilah's voice dropped. "You always this shy, Lukey?"

Luke met her eyes. "You always this bold?"

She tilted her head. "No."

That one word hit heavier than it should've.

There was barely a pause, a hearbeat maybe, before her arm slipped around his neck.

And then she kissed him.

It wasn't gentle or delicate. It was a lot. Teeth and tongues and wet skin and drunk laughter between breaths. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and his hands found her waist under the water by instinct.

Luke couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Not from the lake. From her.

Delilah kissed like she was trying to forget something. Luke kissed like he was trying not to fall apart.

Eventually, they pulled away, panting, foreheads nearly touching.

They both laughed.

"Wow," she said, brushing her wet hair out of her hair.

"Yeah," Luke said, dazed.

She floated back a little, giving them space. "That didn't happen."

Luke blinked. "Nope."

"Just swimming."

"Exactly."

They stayed in the water for another twenty minutes.

Neither one brought it up again.

But when Delilah climbed out first, reaching for her clothes on the dock, Luke watched her like he didn't know what the hell to do with himself.

Because he didn't.

He was fucked.

And all she did was smile like it hadn't meant anything at all.

~~

The next morning felt slow and unwelcoming.

Delilah stood in the kitchen, staring at a bowl of cereal she had no intention of eating. Someone had made a pot of coffee and left it to burn on the hot plate. The lake outside shimmered like it hadn't witnessed any emotional sabotage the night before.

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip.

She could still taste him.

Luke.

His name in her head made her flinch, even though no one had said it out loud.

She hadn't meant to kiss him. Not like that. Not at all. It had just happened. They were drunk. It was late. She was floating in the lake with someone who looked at her like she wasn't a mess. Like she was still some version of herself she barely recognized anymore.

And then she'd kissed him like she was starved.

Now her skin buzzed with regret. Not because she didn't want it, but because it was easier not to want anything.

Especially not Luke Hughes.

"Morning."

His voice was soft behind her, almost hesitant.

She turned slowly to find him leaning against the fridge, damp curls sticking to his forehead, hood half-zipped over his bare chest. His expression calm. Open.

She nodded. "Morning."

That was it.

He waited for more, maybe a smile, maybe a glimmer of last night. But nothing came.

Delilah turned back to the counter and stirred her cereal.

Luke shifted his weight like he was going to say something else, but then Trevor appeared behind him and clapped a hand on his shoulder, making the moment vanish.

"Someone better come help with the boat," Trevor said. "Jack's trying to tie knots like he's on Deadliest Catch."

Luke nodded, glanced at Delilah one more time, then followed him out.

She finally let herself breathe.

~~

Delilah moved through the house like a ghost.

She sat out on the dock for a while, pretending to read. She laid on a towel and kept her sunglasses on, pretending to nap. She even laughed a bit--too loud, too fake--when Quinn made a rare, yet funny joke.

But inside? She was splintering.

Her phone buzzed on and off, the screen lighting up every few minutes. She ignored it at first, then couldn't anymore.

Finally, in the bathroom with the door locked, she sat on the edge of the tub and opened the messages.

Matt: I hate how we ended things. I was angry. You were angry. But I still love you. I can't stop thinking about you. Please, Del. Talk to me.

Her chest clenched. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, then pulled away. Again. And again.

She didn't know what to say.

She didn't know what she wanted.

Matt had always been all-in. Until he wasn't. Until hockey came first. Until the calls stopped and she was left with long voicemails and empty weekends. They were still in love. That wasn't the problem. The problem was life--messy, relentless life.

Trevor found her later, leaning on the porch railing, phone in hand, screen dark.

He stepped beside her, arms crossed. "You're being weird again."

No answer.

"I mean, like, weirder than usual."

Still nothing.

Trevor let the silence sit for a beat. Then, quietly: "Something happen?"

She shook her head. "No."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Trevor narrowed his eyes. "Is it Matt?"

Delilah stiffened.

"I knew it," he muttered. "Is he texting you again?"

She turned, eyes sharp. "Can you not?"

"I'm not judging. I just don't want you spiraling again."

"I'm not spiraling."

Trevor didn't push. But the look on his face said everything.

She brushed past him and went inside without another word.

~~

That night, everyone gathered around the TV watching some terrible horror movie Jack insisted on. The room was quiet except for the occasional yelp from a jumpscare or tense scene. Luke was tucked into the corner of the couch with a blanket tossed over his lap, eyes flicking to her every so often.

Delilah didn't stay long.

She slipped out quietly and padded across the porch, hoodie pulled tight around her, vape tucked in the front pocket.

She only hit it when things were bad.

Maybe the silence outside would help her clear her mind, but instead the stillness made everything louder in her head.

She sat on the edge of the porch, knees pulled up to her chest, and breathed in until she couldn't anymore. Held it. Exhaled slowly.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them back.

She didn't know why it felt like everything was closing in.

Maybe it was the texts.

Maybe it was the kiss.

Maybe it was the way Luke kept looking at her like she meant something.

She hit her vape again.

Behind her, the sliding door rattled, but no one came out.

Good.

She didn't want to talk.

Didn't want to explain that she was stuck in the space between wanting Matt and not being able to let go. That her body remembered Luke's hands on her waist, but her heart still ached at Matt's name.

She didn't want to be there.

She didn't want to be anywhere.

She buried her face in her hoodie sleeve, blinking away tears.

This time, she didn't hear the door as it opened.

She was too deep in her own head, hoodie over her knees, still holding her vape like it was the only thing grounding her. The stars in the sky were blurred now, not by clouds, but by her tears.

She blinked hard. Hit her vape again.

The porch creaked gently behind her.

She didn't look up. "Don't say anything."

"I wasn't going to."

Luke's voice was quiet. No judgment. Just him.

She didn't stop when he sat down beside her.

He didn't sit close--left a little space, just enough for her to breathe. His hoodie sleeves were pushed to his elbows, his legs outstretched. For a second, neither of them said anything.

Just the soft sound of cicadas and crickets chirping.

"I thought you were watching the movie," she said eventually.

"I was," he said. "Then I saw you leave."

She nodded, eyes still forward. "Movie was too loud."

"Yeah."

More silence.

Then, her voice, smaller than before. "I didn't mean to be weird today."

"You weren't."

She huffed out a breath. "You don't have to lie."

Luke shook his head slowly. "I'm not."

"I just... sometimes it's like I can't get out of my own head. Even when I want to. Even here."

"You don't have to explain."

"I kind of do."

Luke shrugged.

"I didn't come here to make things more complicated," she sighed.

He turned his head, watching her.

"I didn't expect to feeling anything," she added. "And then I did. And it caught me off guard."

Luke's jaw twitched slightly, but his voice stayed soft. "Was that about him? Or...?"

She shook her head fast. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Okay."

It came out steady. Easy. But she heard the disappointment in it.

He wasn't asking for much. Just something. Just a little honesty, a little clarity, some kind of thread to hold onto.

And she couldn't even give him that.

She turned toward him, finally meeting his eyes. "You're... good at this."

He raised an eyebrow confused. "At what?"

"Sitting with someone while they're falling apart."

Luke looked away, half-smiling like it hurt. "I've had practice."

She nodded, then quickly looked back down at her hands. "I don't wanna like... hurt you."

"You're not."

Delilah didn't believe him.

He stood up after a beat, slow and reluctant. He looked down at her, like he wanted to say something else--to ask, to push, to feel something outloud, but he didn't.

He just said, "Night, Del."

And then he went inside.

She sat alone on the porch, vape forgotten beside her, the air suddenly colder than before.

The kiss still sat heavy on her lips. So did the guilt.

She hated that she hadn't say anything. Hated that she was the one making it weird. Hated that Luke had looked at her like that and she couldn't look back.

She blinked slowly, jaw tight.

"Why the fuck did I come here?"

~~

The bar was all bass and bodies packed together tight.

It smelled like tequila and bad decisions, but the group had shown up anyway, ready to make their bad ideas sound fun. Jack was holding court at a high-top table and Trevor was already two drinks deep, making fun of Cole's fake ID that he carried around despite not needing it anymore.

Delilah had started the night slow.

A seltzer. Then a vodka soda. Then someone handed her a shot, and she didn't ask what it was, just tipped her head back and swallowed.

Luke had noticed.

She wasn't drunk at first, just loose around the edges, easier with her smiles, her shoulders a little less tense.

But by midnight, she was gone.

Luke saw it first when she came back from the bathroom with her mascara slightly smudged.

He didn't say anything. Just stood beside her while the others argued about Uber rides and dive bars and whether or not they should drink more.

She blinked too much. Her hands were shaky.

Luke leaned down. "You okay?"

She nodded too fast. "Yeah. Totally."

She wasn't.

Fifteen minutes later, she'd disappeared.

He found her in the back hallway of the bar, crouched on the floor outside the bathroom with her head in her hands, quietly crying.

Not dramatic sobs. Not the kind people notice.

The kind that's silent. Exhausted. Almost invisible.

Luke crouched down in front of her. "Hey."

She looked up, startled. "Shit."

"It's okay."

"No, I'm fine... I just..." She wiped her eyes, smudging her eyeliner more. "God, this is so pathetic."

"You're not pathetic."

She sniffed hard. "Everyone else is having fun. And I'm here, crying like some emotionally unstable idiot."

Luke gave her the faintest smile. "A cute idiot."

She laughed, broken and tired. "You're too nice to me."

He didn't respond, sitting close enough to be steady, far enough to give her space, just like the night before.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she whispered.

"With what?"

"Everything."

He waited.

"I'm still in love with him," her voice cracked. "Matt."

Luke didn't flinch.

"I hate that I am. I hate that I--" She sucked in a sharp breath. "I hate how he makes me feel now. Like I'm chasing him. Like I'm waiting for him to figure it out. And I know he loves me, but it's not enough. It's never gonna be enough."

She paused. Then added, softer, "But I still want it to be."

Luke swallowed hard. "Yeah."

She looked at him, eyes glassy. "That's messed up, right?"

"No."

Delilah shook her head. "I kissed you and I didn't even-- I didn't think about how it would make you feel. I was just trying not to feel like this. And now I made everything worse."

"You didn't."

"I did."

Luke moved closer, his shoulder brushing hers.

"I'm not trying to replace him," he said.

She turned her head.

"I'm not expecting anything," he added. "I just want you to be okay."

Something in her face broke and she let her head fall gently onto his shoulder.

They sat like that for a while. No pressure. No words. Just breathing quietly together in the back of a bar.

~~

He got her home safely.

Helped her up the stairs of the house, handed her a glass of water, and made sure she got to bed with her makeup wipes and a bottle of Advil on the nightstand.

He didn't linger.

Didn't touch her again.

Just stood in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say.

Delilah looked at him from her bed, blankets pulled up to her chest.

"Thank you."

Luke nodded. "Get some sleep."

He closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly. Even if nothing had really changed that night, he stil felt... different.

~~

Delilah woke up with a faint headache and vague memories of crying in a hallway, followed by Luke's voice and the feeling of being carried back home. It felt like someone had finally taken all the weight off her shoulders, even for a night.

She stayed in bed longer than usual, doomscrolling through her phone, heart racing each time Matt's name would pop up on an app. But no new texts. No missed calls.

Eventually she got up. Washed her face. Pulled her hair into a loose braid. Hoodie. Shorts. As little effort as possible.

The shift wasn't dramatic. It was subtle.

She lingered a little longer in conversations. Laughed a little more. Sat closer to the group instead of on the edge. She didn't flinch or look away when Luke made eye contact, and once (maybe accidentally) her knee bumped his under the picnic table, and she didn't move right away.

Luke didn't push. He didn't flirt. He met her where she was.

They joked a little. Shared glances during Jack's overdramatic stories. Passed drinks and sunscreen and chips without having to ask.

It felt like something new was growing out of what had almost broken them.

Trevor noticed first.

He was mid-sip of a beer on the dock when he saw Delilah bump Luke's shoulder with her own after he said something sarcastic, and Luke grinned at her like it lit him up inside.

Trevor narrowed his eyes.

Jack saw it too. Of course he did. He was basically watching their entire dynamic unfold like it was a reality show he'd produced.

"Don't say it," Trevor warned him.

Jack held up his hands. "I didn't say anything."

Trevor muttered, "I swear to God--"

"I'm just observing." Jack paused. "They're cute though."

Trevor groaned.

Jack clapped him on the back. "At least he's not a Ranger."

Trevor didn't laugh, but he didn't argue either.

~~

The text came in just after sunset.

Delilah was upstairs, towel-wrapped and fresh out of the shower, hair damp, phone facedown on the nightstand. She'd been having a good day (good in a fragile, new way where she was still worried it would fall apart).

Until the screen buzzed.

Matt: I know you don't want to hear from me. And I'm not trying to change your mind. I just can't stop thinking about you. I can't stop picturing what it would've been like if I had just put you first. If I had fought harder. If I'd told you what you meant to me before it was too late. I still love you, Delilah. That's not a line. It's the truth. You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.

She stared at it for a long time.

Not crying. Not shaking.

Just still.

Because it was everything she had wanted to hear him say for almost two months, back when it would've rewired her heartbeat. Back when she was practically begging the universe for one text said that "you matter to me."

But now?

Now it didn't hit the same.

Now it just felt like a weight--not a safety line.

She didn't reply.

Didn't type. Didn't even screenshot it to send to her friends.

Instead, she put the phone down and slipped into her pjs, before heading down toward the dock, where Luke was sitting alone.

She could tell it was him from the posture, legs stretched out, body slouched, but still alert like he always waiting for something.

Each broad creaked softly beneath her.

He looked up when he heard footsteps. Didn't speak, just shifted to make room for her.

Then she spoke. "Can we talk about the kiss?"

Luke glanced over. "Yeah."

Delilah didn't look at him, just kept her eyes on the water. "It messed me up."

His brow furrowed.

"Not because it was bad," she quickly added. "It wasn't. It was... the opposite of bad."

That got a soft, breathy laugh out of him.

"I think that's what messed me up," she said. "I felt something. And I wasn't ready to feel anything."

Luke was still, letting her speak.

"It wasn't about Matt. It wasn't me trying to forget him. I thought it was... but it wasn't."

He nodded once. "I know."

"And I'm not saying I'm ready now. I'm still, kind of, a mess."

Luke didn't flinch. "Okay."

"I just didn't want you to think I regretted it."

"I didn't."

Delilah exhaled. "You've been really... good to me."

"I'm just trying to be real with you," he replied. "That's it. I'm not waiting on some big moment. I'm not trying to push you anywhere. I just want you to know I'm here."

She looked at him like she didn't know what to do with all his kindness.

Like she never really believed someone could mean it.

"I still feel it," he said softly. "The kiss. The shift. All of it."

Delilah's throat tightened.

She looked back out over the water.

Then leaned her head on his shoulder, gently, like she wasn't sure she was allowed to--and relaxed when he didn't move.

The dock swayed beneath them, quiet and slow.

Above them, the stars blinked into place.

And between them, something sparked. Not a fire, but the start of one perhaps.

~~

The lake still looked the same as the first they got there.

But now the dock was worn slightly more from wet footsteps, the cooler practically empty, the towels faded from the sun. Everyone had written their name on the bottom of the table they used for pong.

Summer was winding down.

The house felt quieter somehow, even when it was loud. Like the energy had shifted. Like it knew they were all about to go different ways again.

Delilah leaned on the railing of the deck, drink in hand, watching the different colours set over the lake.

She wasn't over Matt.

But she wasn't unraveling anymore.

She could breathe again. She could laugh without flinching. She could sleep without checking her phone first.

Luke hadn't asked her for anything since that night on the dock. No pressure. No expectations. Just presence.

And it made all the difference.

~~

Their final party was a quiet kind of wild.

Delilah and Luke had moved to the stairs leading to dock, both tired of Jack's horrible DJing skills. The two of them were slightly buzzed, legs touching, watching fireflies blink across the trees.

Neither of them had said much.

They didn't have to.

Delilah looked over at him, his profile lit by the string lights draped on the railing, the curve of his crooked smile, quiet and content.

"Hey," she said.

He turned toward her, eyes steady.

She leaned in, her hand finding his knee for balance, and kissed him.

It was nothing like the first one.

It wasn't drunk. It wasn't desperate.

It was soft. Slow. Meant.

Luke didn't move at first, then kissed her back gently. No rush. Just quiet understanding.

When she pulled back, she didn't say sorry. Didn't explain.

But she did pause.

Then, gently: "Don't wait for me."

Luke's eyes didn't flicker. Didn't change.

Just a soft smile.

"Wasn't planning to."

She nodded, and they sat there a while longer, not touching, not speaking. Just sharing the last quiet of the last night.

And even though she hadn't told anyone about her and Matt--hadn't told Luke, hadn't told Trevor, hadn't even told herself out loud--she knew that he knew.

Not because she'd said it.

Because Luke saw things. Accepted things. Let them be what they were.

And that? That would stick with her.

~~

The next morning was a blur of bags, bad coffee, and half-hearted goodbyes.

Trevor packed the last of the stuff into his trunk while Jack hovered, giving unhelpful instructions. Delilah came down the steps with her bag slung over her shoulder.

Luke was sitting on the steps, arms crossed, face unreadable.

She looked at him.

He lifted his hand in a wave.

She waved back, small, soft, and held his gaze for a beat longer than necessary.

Then she opened the car door, climbed into the passenger seat, and didn't look back as they pulled away.

But Luke did.

He watched the car disappear down the gravel driveway.

He didn't chase. Didn't wonder. Didn't hope.

But he didn't forget either.