Tumgik
#Brett Howden x reader
Text
seasons with you
summary: the first year of your relationship with Brett is breathtakingly easy; the seasons pass in a blink of an eye.
warnings: none
word count: 4.6k
note from the writer: I’m in love with this idea and this sweetheart
Tumblr media
FALL
“Are you excited for tonight?”
The question was probably a dumb one. Of course, a professional hockey player was excited for the opening night of the season. But you had to ask, because you were absolutely ecstatic about it and wanted an in to express it. Brett probably knew already, you had been at his apartment for fifteen minutes to spend some time with him before he had to leave for the rink and the entire time you had been bouncing from room to room.
“I’m excited that you finally get to come see me play.” Brett teased as he exited his bedroom in his game day suit. Your relationship was new, a little more than a month, but you were certain that you’d never get used to just how handsome he was. There had been preseason games, but between work and school you hadn’t had the chance to make it to one yet. Though, you had opening night circled on your calendar with a promise that you’d be there.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You grinned, pulling Brett in the moment he started to lean down for a kiss. You were certain you would never be able to deny him anything, and you didn’t want to when his lips felt as sweet as they did against yours. Kissing him was easy, just like everything else when it came to Brett.
“Did you see where the tickets I got you are?” He questioned, pulling away just enough to mumble the words against your lips before stealing another peck.
“I did, and I don’t even want to know how much they cost you.” You shook your head, retreating back to the kitchen where you had been snacking on the limited amount of food in his cupboards. “Ice level seats at the Garden on opening night? Probably more than my rent.”
Your comment earned a laugh and a shake of the head from Brett, and the sound alone was enough to bring a smile to your face. Though you weren’t exactly the most comfortable with him spending money on you, you knew how much it meant to him that you were there. He leaned down for another kiss, and suddenly all your problems melted away.
Hours later and you found yourself sitting in the very seats Brett had gotten you. It didn’t take much brain power for you to figure out why he had chosen that spot. It was in the Rangers warm up area, with a hole on the plexiglass where a cameraman usually stood right in front of you.
The stadium came alive as the home team skated onto the ice, and though it was mesmerizing how they managed to skate in circles so seamlessly without running into each other, your gaze was trained on your boyfriend. He spotted you immediately, his smile widening as soon as you locked eyes, but he took a few laps and some shots on goal before skating over to you.
“Hi.” He spoke through the camera hole loud enough so you were able to hear him. A few more people crowded around you, but otherwise it was just the two of you. “I like that jersey.”
“Thanks, my boyfriend made me wear it.” You teased, tugging at the bottom of the white jersey you had gotten a week prior. The number twenty-one and Howden were emblazoned on the back, no doubt Brett was having a field day seeing you in his number.
You wouldn’t have minded chatting with him for the rest of warm ups, but Kreider decided to mess with Brett and checked him into the glass in front of you. The older player smiled and gave you a wave, before skating off with little more than a playful shove from your boyfriend.
Brett gave you a smile before returning back to the warm ups, and you watched as he skated around with a lightness and ease you had only seen through your television screen before. He was grinning the whole time, stopping by your seat no less than six times before they had to get off the ice to prepare for the game.
And as much as you loved admiring Brett, when he wasn’t on the ice your focus was on the action. And there was a lot of action. The Rangers scored first, Zibanejad with a one timer, and you cheered along with an entire stadium. But then the Penguins managed to tie the game just before the end of the first period. Five minutes into the second, the Penguins scored again, but the score was evened quickly after with a slapshot from Trouba.
You slumped on your seat when the Penguins scored again, and held your breath when the play was reviewed. The crowd let out a simultaneous groan the moment they heard that the call on the ice stands, that it was a good goal, and you joined in. The second period ended with the visiting team up one, but then the third started off with a bang. Buchnevich with a tip-in and an assist from Kreider.
Time was running out and with the game tied, everytime anyone got a shot anywhere near the goal you were gripping the seat in anticipation. A minute and thirty seconds left on the clock, you had practically resigned yourself to the fact that this game would be going into overtime.
But then, the Rangers and the Penguins were making a line change and there must have been a mistake on the guest bench because suddenly the Rangers were on a breakaway. Your heart stopped in your chest as you spotted who had the puck—Brett. He was making a breakaway attempt on goal with time dwindling away and the closest defender was seven paces behind him. The crowd grew louder as he got closer, and you were pretty sure you weren’t breathing but that didn’t matter at the moment because—
Top shelf, blocker side.
You don’t really remember when you jumped to your feet, or when you started screaming, but it didn’t matter because your voice was lost in the rioting stadium. Brett was skating, away from the goal and away from his teammates you were rushing to celebrate with him and it took you a moment to realize he was skating towards you.
He slammed into the glass in front of you, smiling and pointing at you for a second before his linemates were on him and crushing him into a hug. You slammed on the glass, excitement and adrenaline rushing through you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he led his linemates to the bench for high fives. He looked so happy and you couldn’t believe it had taken you so long to go to one of his games.
The final buzzer sounded and the crowd was still cheering from Brett’s goal, and you knew you could take your time heading down to the locker room area to meet him. No doubt he was going to have interviews, he played amazingly, got the game winning goal, and was even named second star of the game.
When he finally came out he was grinning from ear to ear and wasted no time in pulling you in for a hug.
“Congratulations!” You cheered while still pressed into his chest. You could feel him chuckle and press a kiss to the top of your head, and you pulled back just enough so he could land his next one on your lips.
When he finally pulled back and let you go, you didn’t move far. Your arms were still loosely around his torso, and he had one around your shoulders. He was smiling down at you, and though he usually was, the win and the goal on opening night clearly had put him in a great mood. And when he spoke next, you could hear his joy in his words, coupled with an honesty that had you leaning into him more.
“You’re my good luck charm.”
WINTER
“This is why I moved to the city.”
Your comment earned a confused look from your boyfriend, but you didn’t mind. He was still grinning at you though, but you barely noticed as you took in the city around you.
“Because of the lights?” He questioned, looking between the string lights set up in the trees in the park and your beaming smile. You nodded, tucking yourself closer into his side as a breeze blew past you. When you told him that you wanted to go for a walk, he was a little skeptical. It was nearing the end of January and freezing cold at night, but you seemed so excited that he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. And he was really glad that he didn’t.
“I grew up stargazing, the lights are like having a clear sky every night.” You confessed, gaze flicking between the boy next to you and the sights around you.
Brett had never really thought about it before, but now that you had brought it up he couldn’t help but agree with you. Maybe he did actually like the lights, but he had a feeling that it had more to do with the fact that you were absolutely entranced with the view.
“C’mon, I need to warm up.” You dragged Brett out of his thoughts, pulling him over to a hot chocolate vendor. He watched as you interacted with the older man that ran the stand, unable to help the smile that grew on his face as you ordered. You chatted with the vendor as he served you, the infectious cheer that you brought with you everywhere brightening up the man as you paid and left.
Brett was certain in that moment that he had struck gold in finding you. You were everything that he could ever want in a partner: kind, funny, and willing to put up with his crazy NHL schedule. He had already called his mom about you at least ten times—a month—since you started dating. He endured the chirps from his brother about how much he cared for you, and Brett even threw in a few about how his brother acted the same way with his now sister-in-law.
It was that thought that had completely leveled him the first time he had it, that he cared for you the same way his brother cared for his wife. He had known for a week, at the very least, that he loved you and that you were it for him. The problem arose when he tried to tell you so. He was almost certain that you felt the same way, but there was a nagging thought that maybe you didn’t, that you weren’t as invested in your relationship as he was. And it was that fear that had his mouth going dry and palms getting sweaty if he even thought about telling you.
But with the lights shining on you in the perfect way that they were, he knew he was going to combust if he tried to wait a moment longer.
He had once again been lost in his thoughts, and you squeezing his hand brought him back to reality only for him to realize that you had stopped walking. You were watching him intently, a brow quirked up and he knew you were silently asking him what was up.
“Can I tell you something?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them, because they sounded bad. And he could tell you felt the same as he watched a mix of confusion and nervousness flash across your face. His eyes widened as he quickly tried to backtrack and reassure you that everything was fine all at the same time. “No! Not like—nothing bad, I promise.”
“Okay…” You trailed off, wondering what could have gotten him so flustered so quickly. He was fine moments before, if not a bit spacey, and you briefly wondered if that was part of the problem, too. Something was on his mind, you just weren’t sure what it was.
Brett steeled his nerves, sucking in a breath as he contemplated just exactly how he wanted to word his confession. You were looking up at him with a confused look, the adorable way your brows furrowed together, and your lips pouted just slightly distracting him for a second, long enough to have him forgetting anything he might have had planned to say.
“I love you.” He blurted, closing his eyes in a kind of wince that told you he was kicking himself for his clunky delivery. You, on the other hand, were completely ecstatic with the way things had panned out. It wasn’t perfect, no, but it was exactly what you wanted. It was real and honest, and you could tell for a fact that he meant it.
Your response was an easy one. You had been feeling the same way for some time, you could pinpoint the exact time when you knew you were done for. He had just gotten in late from a road trip, a week and a half on the west coast, and instead of heading back to his own apartment after getting back he showed up at your doorstep at nearly one in the morning. It was all tired mumbles about how he sleeps better with you and it took exactly zero convincing for you to let him spend the night.
Brett was still waiting for you to respond, other than the beaming smile you were giving him. You could see the panic in his eyes, how he thought that maybe he had screwed things up with you if you didn’t feel the same, and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle at how he ever could think that you didn’t love him back.
“Okay, well don’t laugh at me.” He teased in an attempt to bring some of the normalcy back to the conversation, though you could just hear how tense his words were. You playfully rolled your eyes, using your conjoined hands to tug him closer and down towards you.
You kissed him, smiling at the way he tasted like the hot chocolate you both had been sipping on. You could feel him relax under your touch, the hand that had been holding yours let go of you and moved to the back of your neck to keep you in place against him an extra moment longer. And when you finally pulled back enough, you could see the grin you no doubt were sporting mirrored on his face.
Your next words were easy to say. You felt them deep inside your bones, and knew without a doubt that you meant them. That nothing you had ever said could match the certainty with which you delivered the sentiment with.
“I love you, too.”
SPRING
“What’s all this?”
It was your first season dating a hockey player, but you had been a fan of the sport for longer. You knew it sucked being knocked out of the playoffs after clinching a wildcard spot, but you never had to experience it up close.
So when the Rangers were eliminated in the third round after seven hard-fought games, you weren’t sure how Brett would react. He was quiet after the game, barely saying anything as you spent the night at his apartment. There were lots of cuddles, and when you woke up before him, you took it upon yourself to make breakfast.
And that’s where Brett found you, waking up half an hour after you to see you in little more than one of his old oversized shirts standing in front of the stove as you made pancakes. You smiled at him over your shoulder, happy to see that he looked a little better than the night before.
“Making breakfast, thought I’d surprise you.” You confessed, sighing in content as he wrapped his arms around your middle from behind you. You leaned back into him, giggling at the way his playoff beard scratched your neck as he nuzzled into you. “At least now you can finally shave.”
You felt a sense of pride as he chuckled, no matter how half-hearted it was. His laugh was easily one of your favorite sounds, and it was disheartening to see him so down. One of your arms rested atop his forearms wrapped around you, the other holding the spatula you were using to flip the pancakes.
“Are those chocolate chip?” He questioned, and now it was your turn to chuckle. You nodded, twisting your head to the side to press a quick kiss to his cheek as his head was still resting on your shoulder.
“I figured we could have a cheat day, you earned it.” Your comment earned a hum of satisfaction as he slowly rocked you side to side. Part of you felt a little guilty in savoring just how clingy he was being as a result of being eliminated from the playoffs, but you also knew this was exactly the kind of comfort he needed. And if it meant that you also were smothered in attention and affection from the man you loved, then you weren’t going to complain.
You stayed wrapped up in Brett for the remainder of the time it took you to cook, and even when you were eating he didn’t let you get very far. When you stood to start cleaning up, as an extra treat, since usually when you cooked he cleaned, Brett disappeared down the hall for a moment only to return with a bluetooth speaker.
It was a common occurance whenever you hung out, when Brett said he was always listening to music he meant it. He turned on one of his playlists, one you recognized as having softer, slower songs and he joined you at the sink in cleaning up. The two of you working together meant everything got done much quicker and soon enough you were shutting off the sink and drying your hands.
You went to ask him what he wanted to do next, expecting maybe a movie or something similar, but he clearly had different plans as he swept you into his arms and started slow dancing. You chuckled, letting him lead and stealing kisses whenever you could.
After the first slow song ended, you slipped out of his arms, much to his protest. Picking up his phone, you changed the song to one a bit more quicker and upbeat. If you were going to dance in the kitchen in your pajamas like fools in love, you were going to do it right.
Moving back to him, you spotted the tired grin he was wearing. Pushing yourself onto your tip-toes, you stole one more kiss for good measure. You started twirling and dancing and giggling around the kitchen without a care in the world, and though Brett was still feeling a little disappointed at not being able to make it further in the playoffs, he couldn’t truly be upset when the person he loved the most was laughing and wearing his clothes.
“Thank you.” He mumbled before leaning in for another kiss as you spun into his chest, his arms locking you in place against him. You didn’t respond at first, too caught up in him and how handsome he was, even though he had yet to brush his hair and his pajamas weren’t the most stylish things in the world.
“I’d do it again, but I won’t have to.” Your words confused him, but he was still grinning slightly at the light and certain tone you spoke with. “Rangers are getting the cup next season, I’m speaking it into existence.”
“Don’t let some of the guys hear you saying that, they’ll accuse you of jinxing it.” Brett chuckled, looking down at you with the utmost admiration. You were practically melting under his gaze, wondering how he managed to get you every time with just how often he looked at you with that much love in his eyes.
“They’ll thank me when they win.” You teased, waving a hand nonchalantly. He let out a quiet, breathy, laugh and shook his head in mirth instead of replying. A lull fell in the conversation, and though it wasn’t awkward, it did give you an opportunity to think about the one thing you had been putting off considering. “So… what now? When are you leaving?”
It was a fair question, considering that this was your first time experiencing the end of the season. Brett’s work was done in New York and soon enough he’d be heading back to spend the offseason with family. There was no obligation for you to follow, or even for him to invite you, but it felt weird thinking that you’d spend the next couple of months apart, especially since you had been nearly inseparable since you had gotten together.
“I was thinking that maybe you could come with me, at least for a couple weeks. My parents love you, I’m pretty sure they would kill me if I didn’t at least invite you.” You chuckled at his comment, knowing he was just teasing but your heart swelled at the thought that his parents liked you. And really, there was no way you could ever turn down the opportunity to see his hometown with him.
“Well, I can’t disappoint your parents, you know.”
SUMMER
“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not a good idea, I promise.”
You were having a great time. Brett’s parents had rented a lake house and invited both their sons along with their significant others. The boys were swimming in the water while you tanned on the dock alongside Brett’s sister in law.
It was great, Brett’s niece was swimming with her father and uncle, her gleeful cheers the only thing breaking up the chatter and the soft music playing. His dad was on the grill up by the house and his mom had slipped inside to get a refill on her drink.
But then you spotted Brett grinning at you mischievously, and you just knew he was planning to splash you. Hence, your warning.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He defended himself, acting as if he was completely innocent. You knew it was an act, you were still drying off from earlier when he had thrown you over his shoulder and jumped into the water, but you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed. Not when you had started everything by pushing him in the first chance you got.
“Leave her alone, Brett.” His mom teasingly warned, having just returned from the house and setted back down in her deck chair she had brought out. As she spoke, you bent over the side of the dock, reaching a hand in the water just enough before splashing him. His niece let out a shriek that resembled a laugh, and Brett alternated between wiping the water off of his face and chuckling at you.
“You two were made for each other, I swear.” His sister in law commented and you simply grinned wider, eyeing Brett carefully to make sure he wasn’t planning anything in retaliation.
Later that evening there was a bonfire, and everyone had called it a night long before you and Brett were ready to. You had started the night sitting in different chairs, but at some point you had gotten up to make a s’more and didn’t make it back to your own seat as Brett pulled you into his lap.
“This is nice.” You murmured, watching the flames of the fire dance. Brett’s brother had thrown a couple logs on before he left fifteen minutes ago, so it was set for a while before you had to force yourself to get up. You were dreading, somehow extremely comfortable curled in up in his lap with a blanket haphazardly tossed across your legs.
Brett hummed in agreement, his chest vibrating underneath where you were pressed against him. His lips pressed against the top of your head and his hand that had been resting on your leg started to rub back and forth soothingly.
“I love you.” Brett copied your quiet tone. He told you that several times a day, everyday, but you were certain that you’d never tire of hearing him say those three words. It made your chest warm and heart race, and never failed to put a smile on your face.
“I love you, too.” His hold on you tightened a bit more at your words, the simple action letting you know the sentiment affected him the same way it did too. Silence fell over you, only filled with the crackling of the fire and the distant chirps of crickets and any other insects and critters that were in the trees surrounding the house. You were completely content, and you would’ve been fine with never having to get up ever again.
“Do we have to go back to the city?” He mused, earning a groan from you. There was still time before training camp and preseason and everything else that came with being adults and having careers, but that didn’t mean it stressed you out any less.
“Don’t remind me.” Your reaction earned a chuckle from Brett, the sound, like always, was music to your ears. “My landlord keeps messaging me about whether or not I’m renewing my lease in September.”
There was a hidden question in your statement. You were asking without really asking if Brett wanted to move in with you, that being the natural next step in your relationship. You had known for a while that he was it for you, and though it hadn’t been quite a year since you had started dating you were more than ready to take the leap.
Brett had mentioned offhandedly a few times about sharing his space with you, mostly comments about how he wanted to wake up to you as often as he could. You were at his apartment more than you were at your own, and had even developed a routine of being at his place already when he came home from roadies late at night. The first time he had come home and found you already asleep in his bed, waiting for him, the domesticity of it all nearly knocked the wind out of him.
But he had never seriously brought up moving in with you, and you were starting to get nervous that maybe he was having reservations about your relationship. Those fears were completely unfounded, you knew, but you couldn’t help but have your irrational moments.
“Don’t renew your lease.” Brett said casually, and even though you were practically drained from the sun and the lake and the few beers you had earlier in the day, the statement seemed to give you your second wind. “Move in with me.”
“Yeah?” You hated how breathy the one word was, your tone giving away just how excited you were by the offer. You tilted your head up to look at him, only to be met with his stunning smile. “You want me to?”
“I’d be crazy to not want you to.” He chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead that had you grinning even wider. Like everything with Brett, it was easy to agree, easy to give him another kiss, easy to spend the rest of the night whispering ‘I love you’s and other sweet nothings while planning which of his teammates you’d bribe with a home cooked meal to help you move your stuff to Brett’s.
“Let’s do it.”
171 notes · View notes
going-full-shmoo · 4 years
Note
could you do one with brett howden and meeting the team?
Hi anon! I don’t know much about him, so I hope I did him justice. This one’s a bit shorter.
REQUEST HERE / RULES
Tumblr media
he’s obviously a bit nervous because he knows, like anything potentially personal, he could be chirped by the rest of the team
they will absolutely do their best to make him go bright red when you are introduced to them
so, he avoids it for a little while to spare him the embarrassment
however, eventually they start asking, you start asking, and he can’t avoid it anymore
everyone was going out for drinks after a very successful game, and Brett invited you along with them so they would finally get off his back
the first, and somewhat safest person, he introduces you to was his old roomie Chris Krieder, who in his usual lovely fashion, welcomes you with open arms
he then follows that with just about every embarrassing thing he remembers about Brett from when he lived with him
both of you are laughing so hard your ribs start to hurt, and Brett is filled with instant regret
but he sees how happy that you all are from finally meeting each other that he just goes along with it
he goes to each teammate, and their partners if they’re there, introducing you to them
each of them, just like Chris, welcome you with open arms, telling you that they had heard a lot about you
you were obviously very flustered at all of the welcoming smiles and everything and how casual they were with you, despite just meeting you
many of his teammates joked that he never really shut up about you, and that he’ll always find something new to tell them
even through all the teasing, however, they really did like you, and they could see just how happy you made him
to them, that’s all they could really ask from you
“Hey,” you could hear Chris speak to you “You take good care of him, all right. He seems to really like you. I hope you stick around for a while”
“I plan to” you smiled at him before going back to your boyfriend
you were grateful to know that some of the most important people in Brett’s life respected you and trusted you with his heart
it only solidified the feelings you already had for him, and you knew that, just like you had promised, you would stick around for a while
58 notes · View notes
sorryjustafangirl · 2 years
Note
🌙 and of course have to ask for some fic recs!!
i was very excited for this one!! if there's anything i love more than writing, it's reading!
Beginning of eternity (vampire!ryan graves x reader) by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 (au's might not be everyone's cup of tea but this one is amazing)
Wanna bet (travis konecny) by @puckinghell
Believer (matthew tkachuk college au) by @burkymakar (again might not be everyone’s cup of tea but i think it’s really well written)
all of @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys masterlist is just ~comfort~ to me but specifically 3:42am (anthony beauvillier), reputations (matthew tkachuk), and never isn’t an option (matthew tkachuk), and seasons with you (brett howden)
abby's 200 celebration
5 notes · View notes
Text
an act
prompt: “Who said we’re pretending?” / number 15 off of this list with Brett Howden.
summary: Brett needed a date to an event and it’s only after you meet Coach Quinn that you realize he’s been introducing you as his girlfriend all night.
warnings: swearing
word count: 2.2k
requests are currently open!
Tumblr media
Your plan for the day did not involve you leaving your couch—unless you needed a refill on snacks or water. It was your favorite way to spend a cold Saturday, especially when you were able to get all your work done early and had nothing else planned. Your plans were ruined by a knock on your front door, a groan falling past your lips as you dragged yourself to the peephole. 
When you spotted the boy on the other side, you were suddenly cursing yourself. Of course he had to show up at the one time you looked like a total bum. Your hair was a mess, you hadn't even ran a brush through it since the time you woke up, and your oldest pair of faded black leggings covered your legs. The only thing that made you look even remotely presentable was the extremely large New York Rangers sweatshirt you had found in your apartment. Though it did belong to the boy standing on the opposite side of your door, so you hoped he wouldn't mind.
“Hey?” You greeted, opening the door wide enough for the tall boy to enter. He seemed off, not even waiting for your typical hug before he set off towards your living room while your back was turned, busy locking your door. The two of you had a very physical friendship, it wasn't strange for him to hug you tight or drop the occasional kiss to your forehead. Your brows furrowed, but you traced his steps, spotting his discarded coat on your coffee table. 
So he planned on staying a while. Not that you would ever turn him away—he could ask you to jump and you would ask how high. Ever since you had bumped into him at your favorite cafe, the two of you had become fast friends. You had always hoped that one day, just maybe, you would be more that friends. But he had given no indication that he reciprocated feelings, so you were left to quietly pine away.
“Brett?” You asked, dropping onto the couch next to the hockey player. His green eyes refused to meet yours for a moment and you let your mind race, trying to think about whatever could had gone wrong in his life to achieve such a reaction from him. “What’s wrong?”
“I need a favor.” He spoke hurriedly, a blush blooming on his cheeks. Your brows furrowed once again as you waited for him to find his words. “I’m supposed to bring a date to this work thing and I really don’t want to ask anyone else—”
“So are you asking me?” You interrupted, trying your hardest to ignore the hope blossom in your chest at the thought of him wanting you as his date. Brett nodded once, his face screwed up in a way that told you he was nervous you were going to reject him—if only he knew just how improbable that truly was. “Then yeah, I’ll go with you.”
“Oh thank god.” He sighed, tension leaving his body as he flopped back onto your couch. You giggled, copying his actions and slumping backwards, letting the sound of whatever show was playing currently fill the easy silence between you two. You focused your stare on the television as you felt Brett place his arm on the couch behind you, his fingers brushing your shoulder. You felt juvenile, you were wearing a sweatshirt and were positive his actions were accidental, but it made butterflies flutter inside of you. “It’s tonight, by the way.”
“Brett!” You exclaimed, slapping your hand against his chest. He raised his arms in surrender, but the undeniably attractive smile on his face made it hard for you to stay annoyed at him for long. “That’s so last minute!”
“You already promised.” He reminded you, watching as you pushed yourself off the couch. You groaned, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to back down even if you wanted to. “It starts at eight, by the way.”
“You’re fucking dead, Howden.” You threatened, retreating to your room to shower once you realized it was half past four already. You heard him laugh, the sound making a smile appear on your face.
He had left your apartment once he heard your shower running, and you figured he was off to get himself ready. By the time you were tugging on your heels there was a knock on your door for the second time that day. This time, you didn't bother with checking the peephole as you were expecting Brett.
Though nothing could have prepared you for the sight before you. Brett stood, in an extremely well fitting suit, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. You both stood still for a moment, drinking each other in until you were worried he would spot the blush rising to the tips of your ears. He cleared his throat, gaze dropping to the floor as he stuck out the flowers for you to take. Your smile widened at the gesture, loving how adorable he looked standing awkwardly in your doorway.
“One second.” You told him, grabbing the bouquet to put in a vase. You heard him follow you into the kitchen, you could feel his gaze on you as you worked at the sink. When you turned around, he was right behind you—the running water must have masked the sound of his footsteps.
Your smile died on your lips as you noticed the serious look on his face. You tried to take a step back, but you bumped into the counter. He still hadn't said anything to you, and that only heightened your confusion. Just like earlier that day, his silence clued you in that something was off with him. You just wanted your smiley, chatty, and cuddly best friend back.
“Brett?” Whatever else you planned to say to him died on your lips once one of his large hands was brought up to cup you cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, until they snapped open when you felt his thumb brush over your lips.
“You look beautiful.” He muttered. You were nervous, wondering if he could hear your heart beating or if you would be able to stand much longer on your legs that were quickly turning to jelly. Your wide eyes never left his, trying to figure out what he was planning on doing. His gaze flickered to your lips before back up to your eyes. 
And suddenly his head was dipping down to yours. Your eyes closed, anticipating the feeling of his lips on yours. Except, what happened next was that Brett’s phone went off and he jumped away from you, as if he had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. A sigh fell past your lips, gaze trained on the floor as Brett talked on the phone.
“That was Chris, we have to go now, though.” He explained, shoving his phone into his pocket. You nodded, refusing to meet his gaze as you pulled on your coat. 
The entire drive to the venue was in silence, your mind racing thousand miles a minute as you thought about what could have possibly gotten into Brett. You were pretty certain that he was going to kiss you—which you would have easily returned—but you weren’t sure where that had come from.
When you actually arrived at the venue, Brett made sure to open the door for you and linking your arm through his as he led you in. Your gaze flicked through the crowd, searching for the few players on Brett’s team that you knew. Kreider spotted you, waving slightly to catch your attention.
“I’ll get you a drink, you can go talk to Chris, if you want.” Brett mumbled in your ear, the proximity of his lips to you had a shiver run down your spine. You nodded, not trusting yourself to meet his gaze in fear you might melt right then and there. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you momentarily closed your eyes, leaning slightly into the feeling of his lips on your hairline.
You separated, making your way through the crowd and into the open arms of Chris, who was probably your second closest friend on the team. The two of you chatted for a while, your gaze occasional drifting across the room to find Brett. Sometimes you’d spot him talking to some men in business suits—your drinks in his hands as he kept getting stopped by person after person. Sometimes he’d catch your eye, waving slightly to you from his conversation. At some point, A man you recognized to be Coach David Quinn came over to you and Chris. You had never met him before, but you were easily able to recognize him, lord knows you’ve seen enough Rangers games to be able to.
“You must be Brett’s girlfriend. It’s nice to meet you finally.” Quinn said, causing you to choke on a cough and Chris to laugh loudly. You were certain your face was crimson red and you couldn’t even figure out the words to say when Brett himself appeared, finally handing you your drink which you greedily drank. 
Chris still hadn't stopped laughing.
“We’re not together.” You spoke, unable to look at anyone and instead focused all you attention on the cup in your hands. Chris had quieted down, but only after your elbow connected with his side. You knew whatever hit you tried to give him was no match for anything he received on the ice.
“Oh! Brett just introduced you to me as his girlfriend.” At Quinn’s words, you spun at looked at the tall boy who had yet to speak on the topic. There was an obvious blush on his cheeks, but his brows were furrowed at you as if he had the right to be confused.
“He did?” You questioned, though your stare didn't leave Brett’s face, searching for any motive for his actions. If he was trying embarrass you, then he no doubt succeeded. 
“Come on, coach.” Chris said, picking up on the tension in the room. He and Quinn left, and you gave Brett an accusatory look.
“Girlfriend?” You questioned, crossing your arms as if you were scolding a small child. Before he could respond, you continued. “Why are you pretending we’re in a relationship?”
“Who said we’re pretending?” 
You could've strangled him. Your eyes went wide and your lips parted in shock, unable to think about anything other than what he meant. There was no way you had forgotten him asking you out, which meant you were definitely pretending.
“Am I missing something?” You questioned, finally finding your voice. You were confused, and you wanted answers. 
“I mean, aren’t we pretty much dating?” Brett continued to mystify you. His words were doing nothing to lift the veil of confusion that surrounded you and you were letting yourself get your hopes up. When you refused to respond, he continued. “We do couple stuff all the time.”
“Yeah, as friends.” The word felt bitter on your tongue, and it seemed to even effect him as he screwed up his face. 
“Do you think I treat my friends the way I treat you? I have never kissed Chytil.”
“On the forehead!” You were quick to brush off his joke, wanting to make sure  he wasn’t able to distract you. Though, from the way he was grinning at your frowning figure, distracting you would not be a hard task at all.
“I know you like me, so why aren’t you excited about this?” You stopped pouting at this, instead dropping your jaw in shock. You tried to think about what could have given you away, you were certain you had been so careful to make sure your feelings stayed hidden. He chuckled at your reaction, causing you to roll your eyes and cross your arms. “I saw you texting your friend about me.” 
Your blush deepened, knowing just when he had found out. You had left your phone unlocked and on the texts, completely forgetting what you had been discussing. Brett hadn't acted like he had seen, but you had been stressed for a few hours about it.
“And I mean, I did try to kiss you earlier, too.” Brett continued, explaining hints that you had somehow missed. “And I asked you to be my date tonight. So, you're my girlfriend.” The words came out easy, and you narrowed your eyes at him.
“You haven't asked.” You reminded, not lifting your annoyed stare from his smirking one, even as he rested his free hand on your hip, tugging you closer to him. 
“We’ve been together for weeks.” 
“News to me.” You shot back. Your stubborn streak was showing as you refused to let him win this. You weren’t going to turn him down, clearly, but you just wanted to hear him say the words. You needed the confirmation.
“Fine.” He huffed, though you could tell he was being dramatic by the way he was unable to stop the smile on his face, even when he rolled his eyes. You raised a brow at him, and he responded by squeezing your hip. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“Don’t sound too excited.” You teased, despite the swirl of butterflies in your stomach that had you gripping the cup in your hand tighter. Brett chuckled, once more placing a kiss to your forehead. “But yes, I will.”
“Thank you.” His smile was wide, reaching his eyes and you couldn't help yourself, pushing yourself to to your toes to kiss him quickly. When you pulled away, somehow, his smile was bigger.
“So, besides your coach, who’d you lie to tonight?”
259 notes · View notes
Text
it’s what you deserve - pt. seven
summary: you finally have the chance to make things right, once and for all.
word count: 2.4k
link to the rest of the series
Tumblr media
You had never seen Bee so happy as when you had told her that you ended things with Max. And it was odd, you had just broken up with your boyfriend, but you weren't sad. More, hopeful. When you had explained this to Bee, she just smiled widely at you and pulled you in for a bone crushing hug.
You watched the rest of the game with a little more enthusiasm, yelling at the refs for bad calls like you normally would. And instead of following Brett's figure on the ice as he skated around with guilt evident on your face, you looked determined. Determined to make things right, to do what would make you happy for the first time in months. Though, you still couldn't take your eyes off of him.
And so, you made a plan.
Work the next day had been absolute torture, the only respite you got was when you were able to check your phone every once in a while to see if Adam had texted you. He was vital to your plan, and once you had gotten the message that everything was all set on his end of things, you were able to breath a bit easier.
You wanted to text Brett and tell him that he had been right. That Max didn't deserve you and that you figured out how you should be treated. You thought that since he played a direct role in you ending things with your toxic ex, he had a right to know what happened.
But that was all too much to say over the phone. You wanted to be able to see his reaction and not just some typed out response. You wanted to be able to hold him tight as you told him you returned all the feelings he confessed to having just two days prior, and that just wasn't a possibility over a FaceTime call.
You raced back to the apartment after work and found Bee already ready to go, telling you she had picked out your outfit for the night. You simply rolled your eyes with a grin, brushing past her and into your room to find out that she had, in fact, laid out an outfit for you on your bed like she was your mother. The jeans and white sneakers she had picked out were fine, something you probably would have worn regardless, but the top she had was new—and definitely didn't come from your closet.
“Adam had that at his apartment and told me to get it for tonight, just don't ask me why he had it.” Bee explained with a chuckle as you picked up the Rangers jersey, the number twenty-one obvious and Howden scrawled across the back. Your heart raced at the idea of wearing his name, and a broad grin broke out across your face.
“Just remind me to thank him later.” You were grinning widely, shooing her out of the room so you could change. It felt right, wearing his name and number, and it gave you hope that this was going to work out.
It wasn't until you were walking into the Flyers arena did you begin to panic that maybe this was a bad idea. Would he want to see you after the way things had ended? Or would he be too upset that you had chosen Max over him, no matter how briefly, to give you a chance? Would he even want to be with you since you just got out of a relationship?
Your arm was linked through Bee's so you wouldn't lose each other in the crowd, so she felt you slow down the closer you got to the ice. You had already scanned your tickets in, having gotten the ones that Adam left at will call specifically for you and Bee—you really did have to remember to thank him. Between work and the travel time to get to Philly, by the time you arrived at the rink practice was over and you wouldn't actually get to talk to any of the boys until after the game.
“Get out of your head, okay? It'll be fine.” You tried to listen to Bee's words, you really did, but it was borderline impossible for you to not think about the multitude of ways this could blow up in your face.
When the players came onto the ice for puck drop you couldn't tear your gaze away from Brett—nothing new, honestly. You were a few rows off the ice, so you didn't blame him for not spotting you no matter how much you stared at him.
As the game progressed, you honestly couldn't be bothered to remember who scored what and how. Bee elbowed you every time someone scored, but your attention was fully on the brunette you held your heart. He hadn't smiled once the entire time he had been on the ice, and that was what cut you deep, thinking that it was your fault he wasn't having fun doing the one thing he loved the most. Guilt crept into your chest and gripped your being as the final seconds ran down on the clock.
The Rangers won, but just barely. Brett had taken a few necessary penalties, but you were glad he hadn't gotten hit like the night before. You weren't sure you could handle seeing that live. You hoped that what you were about to do would snap him out of his funk, and he could get back to playing as good as he had been the past few weeks.
Bee led you down to where Adam had told her to meet him, and you started shifting nervously on your feet. You chatted absentmindedly with Bee, knowing she was only telling you about what your old neighbor had said to her that morning to distract you. She peppered in a few comments to assure you that it would all be fine, and you were thankful for her, because before you even knew it players started filing out of the locker room.
“Please tell me you're here to make up with him.” You jumped in surprise at the deep voice belonging to Chris Kreider, somehow not noticing him approach. He was one of the teammates that had invited you out to dinner with Brett and the rest of the guys a few times, so you knew him decently well. You nodded at him, cheeks flushing at the fact that the older player probably knew what happened between you and Brett. Chris just grinned, pulling you into a one armed hug that caught you a bit off-guard. “The kid's head over heels for you.”
“I just hope he still feels the same, after everything, you know.” You mumbled, finally letting some of your concerns out in the air. Chris just laughed, teaming up against you with Bee who rolled her eyes at you. You were fighting a losing battle against the two of them.
“Trust me, he does.” Chris' words barely had time to register before Bee was leading him away, having spotted Adam walk out trailed by the boy you had been waiting for. They both muttered ‘good luck’ and 'see you later' before they left, but you hadn't really heard them. Your attention was focused solely on Brett, who hadn't seen you yet.
In the time it took him to realize you were there, you cataloged his features. He looked tired, deep bags under his eyes and a heavy slump to his shoulders that didn't come from the hard game. His was tie loose and hair a mess, he didn't even bother to style it after the post-game shower. Everything about the way he looked told you had been struggling with how things had ended the last time he was at your apartment, and that it effected him just as much as it did you. Still, he was just as devastatingly handsome as you remembered.
His head snapped up to look at Adam, who had elbowed him in the side to try and get him to notice you. There were only a few feet separating you from him, and he had yet to even see you. It was only when Ryan Lindgren called out something along the lines of ‘look in front of you, dumbass’ did he finally spot you.
He froze mid-step, not even acknowledging how his sudden stop made Buch bump into his shoulder as he swerved to avoid completely colliding with him. For a second, he just stared at you like he didn't quite believe that you were there, in Philly, wearing his jersey and waiting for him outside the locker room.
But then he snapped out of whatever daze he had been in, and he quickly closed the distance between you and him, pulling you into a hug before you could even blink. It felt so right being in his arms, that you sighed deeply, unsure how long you had been holding in your breath. You were certain you could have stayed right there forever, but the hoots and cheers from the boys around you had you pulling back.
Brett still didn't say anything, instead he threaded his fingers through yours and used your conjoined hands to tug you down a quieter hallway. Even when he stopped moving and decided you were far enough away from prying eyes, he didn't drop your hand—and you'd be fine if he never let go again.
“You're here.” He muttered, eyes roaming over you, as if he was searching for something wrong, waiting for you to come bash his hopes once more.
“I am.” You spoke just as quiet. “I broke up with Max.”
And at that, his smile was absolutely blinding. It was the biggest smile you'd ever seen on him, and you were certain his cheeks had to hurt. The type of smile that had you smiling too, though with Brett, every smile of his had you grinning right along with him.
“You know, I meant what I said about it not having to be me.” His smile faltered a bit, softening to one that held some sadness, despite the fact that he looked at least ten pounds lighter as a result of your confession. “I'm just glad you realized you deserve more than him.”
“Brett.” You took in a breath to steady yourself, wrapping your arms around his neck to stop him from rambling. It effectively shut him up, and his hands came to rest on your waist. You were smiling now, you couldn't help it. You were in the arms of someone who treated you right and wanted the best for you, even if it meant he couldn't have you. “What if I said I wanted it to be you?”
“Please,” he started, his right hand coming up to cup your chin as his face dropped closer to yours. “please tell me that it's me.” And with how close he was to you, you couldn't even begin to formulate a coherent sentence, so you simply nodded.
What happened next was long awaited, having been built up since probably the first moment you had laid eyes on him in that cafe. Brett finally closed the gap between the two of you, his lips pressed against yours with a sweetness and a desperation only matched by you. It was like you both were afraid of what would happen when you pulled away, so it was delayed as long as it could be.
Eventually, you did have to breathe though, and you disconnected your lips first. Brett didn't move back far, forehead resting on yours and nose pressing into your cheek. The scruff of his beard scratch your chin and drew a giggle out of you, one that Brett matched as he pulled you flush against his chest in a tight hug.
“Yeah, I definitely want it to be you.”
The next few weeks with Brett were infinitely better than the months spent with Max. Somehow, even though Brett had a busier schedule, he still found more time to see you than Max ever did and quickly you forgot completely about your ex. You had never smiled and laughed so much as you did when you spent time with Brett—you were certain he was your person and you were his.
“Can I take your order?” The waiter asked, and you shook your head politely. You didn't miss the quick glance he shot to the unoccupied chair across from you, and how he knew you'd been sitting by yourself for ten minutes.
“My boyfriend is on his way, I'll wait for him.” You explained, and the waiter gave you a tight-lipped smile before heading to check on another table. Almost as if on cue, your boyfriend entered the restaurant, looking at you with an apologetic smile as he approached.
“Sorry I'm late, I just got caught up in traffic and I left late because Adam made fun of my shirt and I had to change—” Brett started rambling out apologizes as soon as you were in earshot. He cut himself off as you chuckled, smile telling him that you weren't upset at him.
“Brett, you're five minutes late, and you texted saying you were running behind schedule.” You explained, standing to greet him with a hug and a kiss before you both took your seats again. Except, he stole two more quick kisses before you were able to sit back down.
“Yeah, but I know you usually get to restaurants early, so I try to get there early too.” He pouted, reaching across the table to grab your hand and press a kiss to your palm before threading your fingers together and resting them on the table. You just smiled at him, a look of pure adoration on your face that your boyfriend easily picked up on. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It's stupid.” You shook your head, ignoring his question and the blush that bloomed on your cheeks. Brett wasn't buying it, and instead raised a brow in silent question. “It's just, I've never had a guy care about me like you do, you know?” And for a moment, he didn't respond. Instead, he just smiled softly at you, looking at you the way you had been looking at him just moments before. And when he did speak, it was barely above a whisper.
“It's what you deserve.”
64 notes · View notes
Text
holiday party
summary: you may not be the average size of the typical girl a professional athlete might want, but you’re exactly Brett’s type.
warnings: plus-size reader, mentions of self-image problems, swearing
word count: 2.7k
requests are open!
Tumblr media
Right now, you were seriously regretting the outfit you were currently wearing, but the mirror you were critiquing you appeared in. In the store, you seemed to have all the confidence in the world. The fabric of the dress was just a tad bit too tight around your waist, showing off the stomach you desperately tried to hide on a daily basis. 
Growing up, you had always been on the heavier side of the scale. No one ever said anything to you directly about it, but sometimes, you could still hear the girls at your old high school making comments about you as you walked past, ones clearly not meant for you to hear. You were short, with thicker arms and thighs and definitely a softer stomach that protruded outwards. Usually, you wore jeans and sweaters that covered anything you didn't want anyone to see, but the dress you were currently poking and pulling at was completely different.
When you had bought it at the store, your friend had been with you. She, of course, cheered you on and spurred you to buy the dress, claiming you could use it for a night just like this one. 
You were supposed to be accompanying your best friend Brett to a holiday party, one that was a little fancier since, as his teammate Ryan so eloquently put it, ‘we’re fucking adults, we’re going to drink wine and listen to holiday music and mingle’ when he invited you after one of their games. 
A knock on your bedroom door brought you back to reality just enough to call out a soft ‘come in’ but you were still absentminded enough to continue to pull at the fabric, trying to make it less—you weren't even sure what you were trying to accomplish, but you just wanted to look different. That was always your problem, wanting to change your appearance. 
“What’re you doing?” The familiar voice belonging to Brett sounded from your doorway, and you spun so quickly, like a kid who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, that you almost stumbled over your own two feet. He was leaning against your doorframe, and amused smile on his attractive face. You gave yourself a second to take in his appearance, mostly because you weren't sure how to respond to his innocent question. 
He was wearing a pair of dress pants and shoes, with a nice, white, button up. The top couple of buttons were undone, and his hair was styled the way he usually had it when he was dressing up. The outfit was so simple yet so attractive, it was easy to see how you fell for him as quickly as you did. Not to mention, he was incredibly kindhearted and hilarious when the time was right. 
But then you remembered where you were headed—a holiday party for adults, and adults bring their significant others to these type of events. You were headed out to go mingle with a bunch of hockey players and their probably drop dead gorgeous wives and girlfriends, while you arrived with Brett as a friend looking the way you did. 
Friends. That’s all you ever would be to him. While you were pining away, stuck in your small apartment, he was free to travel across the country and be with whoever he chose. And it didn't matter that in the two years you had known Brett that he had never brought a girlfriend around to meet you, you were just waiting for the inevitable day when he looked at someone else the way you looked at him. 
Brett called your name out, softly, when you took too long to respond. Your brows were furrowed from your time spent in deep thought and your whole body was tense. You knew that, from the sheer amount of time you spent together—as just friends—he was able to tell something was up with you. So, instead of giving him a chance to question you about it, you turned away from him and back to the mirror. 
“I think I might change to a different dress.” You stated, unable to meet his gaze through he mirror no matter how much you wanted to. It was hard enough to think so poorly of yourself when you were alone, and now that you had an audience the thoughts that kept stumbling into your head felt stifling. But you if had glanced up, even if only for a fraction of a second, you would’ve seen the look of utter confusion on Brett’s face. 
“That one looks really good on you, though.” He tried to reason and all you could manage was a bitter laugh. How could he not see just what you were looking at in the mirror? That nothing about how the dress fell across your stomach looked really good? He was sugar coating it, surely, taking his job as best friend seriously. He was supposed to tell you that you looked good.
“It’s just... I don't know.” You struggled to find the words, hoping he would pick up on your insecurity and leave so you could change into something looser. Apparently, he wasn't as skilled at reading you as you had thought, because he was stepping further into the room and to your closet, grabbing the heels he knew you’d want to wear. They were your comfiest pair, and whenever you accompanied Brett to something that required fancy shoes, you’d always pick that pair. 
“We’re running late, anyways, so come on.” Brett told you as he got down on his knees before you, fumbling with the clasp to your heels. You blushed when you realized he was putting on your shoes for you. Now, you were stuck with the stupid dress and you couldn’t help but feel like you were on fire when his fingers brushed against your ankles while he worked. 
“You didn't have to do that.” You mumbled, embarrassed, once Brett was standing again. To avoid his gaze, you walked out of your room, leaving him trailing behind you in search of your coat. He saw it first, snatching it off the back of your kitchen chair while grabbing his own. 
“Yeah, but it was faster.” He replied as you followed him out the door, making sure to lock it behind you. You tried not to think about how domestic it felt to have him help you get ready, and you definitely avoided wondering about how much it felt like you were heading to this holiday party as his date, not just a friend.
On the ride over, you tried to keep the conversation flowing easily with Brett. but was hard, since your mind kept trailing back to worrying about how you looked and your fingers kept tugging at the dress, as if that would make it looser. Brett seemed to notice your actions, and he finally confronted you about it when you were in the elevator up to Ryan Strome’s apartment where the party was being held. 
“Why do you keep doing that?” He questioned, and your head snapped to him, brows furrowed as you hadn’t been really paying attention to anything around you. “Pulling at your dress, I mean.” After he elaborated, you could feel your face heat up and the elevator was suddenly taking too long to each its destination. 
“I don’t know.” You replied shortly, unable to meet his gaze. Deep down, you knew he hadn't meant to make you uncomfortable, that the question came from genuine curiosity instead of malice, but it affected you as if it had. You knew Brett wasn’t blind, and he clearly must have seen just what set you apart from other women, so you assumed that he would be able to pick up on the fact that you felt unattractive in the dress. Was he just toying with you?
The door dinged open, and the faint sound of Christmas music could be heard from Ryan’s apartment, which you hurried to. Brett was easily able to catch up to you by the time you were knocking, and you made it a point ignore his curious look, questioning just what he had done wrong to invoke your annoyance. 
“Then why’d you buy it?” He continued to ask, which only managed to frustrate you further. Right now, you needed to put some space between yourself and Brett to clear your head. You knew you were being irrational, and it wasn’t fair to Brett, but you couldn't help the negative thoughts that were plaguing your mind.
“I don't know, okay?” You snapped at the same time Ryan opened the door. Poor Strome, who had been in the process of being a good host, got caught in the crossfire of your attitude. He looked like a deer caught in headlights and he looked between you and Brett. He had never seen the two of you arguing, no one had, because you both were pretty good about telling each other what was up before a fight could ensue, but you had been bottling these feelings up for so long and Brett just didn't notice. 
Before either teammate could say anything, you were brushing past Ryan and entering the party. When the crowd inside saw you, they cheered and you plastered on your fakest smile you could muster. Chris offered you a glass of wine, and you very readily took it. A glance to the door out of the corner of your eye told you Ryan was pestering Brett for answers on what had you in such a sour mood, and neither were doing a very good job at hiding the fact that they were talking about you. Ryan pointed his thumb over his shoulder, loosely gesturing to you and Brett was staring directly at you, watching your every movement. 
That only worked your confidence, having his eyes on you, searching for something wrong. 
It was going to be a long night.
Half an hour had passed since your arrival and you hadn't spoken directly to Brett yet. Not for lack of trying on his part, though. He’d make comments on stories you were telling the group, and you’d only nod, not meeting his eyes and taking a sip of your drink to help swallow the lump that’d form in your throat.
“Spill. What’s gotten into you?” Gracia, Brady’s girlfriend, questioned you as she, Marc’s wife Lindsay, and Ryan’s wife Sydney cornered you in the kitchen while the rest of the party continued in the living room. 
“Nothing?” You lied. As much as you loved the girls, no part of you wanted to confess to the group of knockouts that you felt insignificant compared to them. Especially since they were nothing but kind to you ever, Lindsay even acting as your second mom when you missed home too much. 
“Bullshit!” Sydney called, a grin on her face and wine clasped in her hand. She was tipsy, you all were, and the slight level of drunkenness seemed to remove everyone’s filters. “You’re ignoring Brett, so what’d he do?” Her question felt so loaded, because in reality, he hadn't done anything. You and your irrational overthinking had you ignoring him for no good reason. 
“Brett looks like a lost puppy without you out there. It’s sad, really. Marc thinks you rejected him.” Lindsay spoke, and you weren’t sure she even knew what she chose to end on, because your eyes were bugging out of your head.
“Reject him?” You stammered, gripping your cup tighter. “No, what—”
“Exactly! I told him you wouldn’t reject him because you’re like, in love with him.”
“Lindsay, what?” Your face was on fire and all three women were grinning at you, like they hadn't just announced to whoever could overhear them the one fact of life you tried so hard to hide. 
“So what’d Brett do, huh?” Gracia teased, excited to hear some drama. She knew that whatever likely transpired between the two of you was something you would be able to get over, together, because you and Brett knew each other so well. 
“He didn’t do anything—”
“You’ve been like, really distant tonight, though.” Sydney cut you off. “Ryan said you snapped at Brett when he answered the door.” Your face flushed at this, and you weren't sure how much more you could handle. The girls continued to pester you, trying to uncover what happened before you got to the holiday party.
“It’s this fucking dress!” You caved, practically shouting as you felt the lump start to form in your throat. The girls stopped their questions, but the gates were already open. “I feel so fucking ugly in it, especially compared to you guys. Like, I know it’s important to love oneself, but it’s hard, you know?” Lindsay called your name softly, but you ignored her, too caught up in your ranting with your gaze trained on the floor to notice her looking at something—someone—behind you. “And Brett didn’t do anything tonight. He was incredibly sweet and caring and you're right, I do love him, but he’ll never see me as anything more than the best friend. I guess I just got annoyed at him for not realizing—”
This time, you cut yourself off when you felt a hand on your arm. The hand, quickly spun you around and you found yourself face to face with Brett. Your sight was blurry from the tears that had built up during your rant, but you could still see the look of pure seriousness on his face. You barely register the girls excusing themselves, leaving you and Brett alone in the kitchen. 
You wanted to follow them, to run away and hide. Brett had just heard you say everything you had spent so much time and energy keeping from him, from you image issues to literally confessing your love for him. He should be running away, never wanting to see your face again. 
But instead, he just stood in front of you, studying your face as if it was the first and last time he’d ever see it and he needed to memorize every detail. You wanted to step back, put some distance between you and him but the look in his eyes made it impossible for you to move. 
“Do you really think that about yourself?” Brett’s voice was quiet, as if he didn't want to break the stillness of the room. You hadn't anticipated that being his first question. You had figured that he was trying to find a way to let you down gently. 
“Um, yeah?” It felt uncomfortable to say that to him because judging by the look in his eyes, you could’ve sworn he was in love with you. The way you could see the heartbreak in eyes made you want to take back your words.
“You shouldn’t.” Brett simply said and it took everything in you to not roll your eyes. To deflect his comments of assurance. A tugging sensation in the pit of your stomach told you to listen to him, to hear him out. As if he could hear the debate going on in your head, he grabbed your hands. “And you have to listen to me, because I love you, too.”
You felt your heart stop in your chest. You wondered for a moment if this was a dream, but Brett squeezing your hands in his brought you back to reality. Your eyes must have widened comically, because Brett was chuckling. Before you knew it, he was leaning forward to brush his lips on your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, relishing in the feeling. Of course, Brett had kissed your forehead before, but the action felt so much more heavenly since he had just confessed his love for you. 
“When we go home tonight, we can talk about what I heard, yeah?” Brett started and you nodded, still in a state of shock to really understand what he was saying. The adoring look in his eyes and the fact that you just knew him so well leading you to trust whatever he had in mind. “Right now, I just want to show my gorgeous girlfriend off to everyone out there.”
Now you were positively beaming. You were on cloud nine, he just called you his girlfriend. This was not the way you had planned on this night ending, but that was perfectly fine with you. All you could manage out was a simple, one word response, having finally found your voice. But it was enough to have Brett dropping another kiss to your hairline. 
“Okay.”
152 notes · View notes
Text
canceled dates
summary: when you have a blind date planned Brett decides it’s time for him to finally make a move.
warnings: n/a
word count: 2.1k
requests are currently open!
Tumblr media
It had been nearly three months since you had taken a job for the New York Rangers as their social media representative, basically meaning you advised them on what to post on the team page. Since you had moved to the city basically on your own, you didn't really know anyone and spent the first couple of weeks solo. Thankfully, since you went on road trips with the teams, they seemingly adopted you into their group and it wasn't long before they were your closest friends.
But today was your day off, and you had planned to do nothing more than sit around your cramped apartment and watch television. Well, that was the plan until your neighbor and closest friend—who wasn't the team—told you that you would be going on a blind date. You had originally protested the idea until she made you give her one good reason why you couldn't go. Since you weren't even willing to address your own feelings towards one of the team members, you were left with no option but to agree to meet the mystery boy at the restaurant.
You were in the process of making a sandwich for lunch when the music blasting from your phone's speaker stopped and the sound of it ringing took its place. Your heart skipped a beat when you read the caller ID, biting your lip as you answered and put him on speaker so you could continue to make your food.
"Hey, Brett." You grinned, despite the fact that he couldn't see you. You couldn't help it, he was possibly the most attractive boy you had ever laid your eyes on, and you swore his smile could light up any room. Out of all the players on the team, he was the one you hung out with the most outside of the rink. You couldn't help grow feelings for him, he was too much of a sweetheart for you to handle at times.
"Hey, what're you doing right now?" His smooth voice was heard through the phone and you couldn't stop the feeling of your chest warming at his question. It was so simple and he probably asked his friends that a dozen times a week, but to you it meant that he was thinking about you—and that meant you started to get your hopes up once more.
"Just hanging out at my apartment, what else would I be doing on my day off?" You joked. You swore you could hear the smile in his voice as he chuckled. You turned, leaning your back against the counter as you stared at the phone sitting atop the island across from where you stood.
"Wanna come to the rink? Some of the boys and I are having a scrimmage and we need a cheerleader." You may have been mentally complaining about having to leave the apartment for the ridiculous blind date, but you were already heading to your room to change seemingly before the offer could leave Brett's mouth. You bit your lip, realizing just how bad you had it for this boy.
"Of course, who's going?" You tossed your phone onto the bed as you moved to the closet, pulling out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.
"Kreider, Mika, Fil, Strome, Panarin, Skjei, Fox, and Tony." He listed and you nodded, the movement restricted from the hoodie being pulled over your head even though you realized he couldn't see you. "Tony has some friends who offered to go in goal for us."
"M'kay, I'll meet you guys there soon, bye Brett." You bid your goodbyes, words coming out a little strangled as you struggled to pull up your skinny jeans. Usually, when you went to the rink it was for games or meetings, and you were always in pencil skirts and button up blouses to stay professional. Now, you were just meeting some friends for a casual scrimmage. Though, knowing how competitive some of the boys were, you wondered just how long it would actually stay casual. Brett hung up after telling you to text him when you were close so he could let you in, and you quickly put on a bit of makeup and brushed your hair before tossing on your winter coat and heading out the door.
The cab ride was quick and as soon as you were in sight of Madison Square Garden you sent Brett a text. Before you could even open the door to the cab you spotted the tall boy waiting for you with his hands shoved in his pockets and his typical smile. When he saw you exiting the cab, he opened his arms for a hug. Your heart was beating faster and you hadn't even talked to him yet—he was going to be the death of you.
"Hey, let's get inside." You spoke hurriedly, not letting the embrace last as long as it usually did as a result of freezing New York winter temperatures. You felt his hand on your lower back as he guided you through the typical crowd on the sidewalk, trying extra hard to not trip on your own feet as most of your focus was on his hand making your back more warm than it probably should have been.
Easy conversation passed between you and Brett once you both had gotten inside and he dropped his hand back to his pockets and you were able to think clearly once more. You hated how he had that effect on you, how you could barely think straight when you felt his gaze. Your discussion about the Rangers next away game was interrupted by Mika Zibanejad—who was practically your brother—bursting through the door of the locker room and tossing you over his shoulder. You screamed, catching Brett's amused smile from your newly found position.
"Put me down!" You laughed loudly, seeing that Mika had brought you into the locker room and none of the boys seemed keen on helping. Your long haired friend did a few laps around the room as the boys cheered, and when he finally set you down you had to brace yourself against Brett, trying to regain your footing. That was not the first time Mika had down something like that, but it never failed to disorientate you.
"You're finally out of your apartment when you're not working!" Chris cheered, doing the most to chirp you. You rolled your eyes, not willing to concede that there was some truth behind his words.
"I'll have you know, I have a date tonight." You stated, not entirely sure why you were feeling a surge of needing to prove yourself. Mika gasped loudly, placing his hand over his heart and you spotted Brady glance towards Brett questioningly. Or maybe that was just your mind playing tricks on you, because why would he need to look for Brett's reaction? "Why do you all look like you don't believe I could have a date?"
"You're just a baby." Ryan teased, and you rolled your eyes at him. You eyed him carefully, making sure he kept his distance. Last time he had called you a baby was when you mentioned you couldn't cook to save your life, and he had cooed and pinched your cheeks.
"Who're you going with?" Brady asked and you took a seat in the booth bedside Brett's, who had started to get ready for the scrimmage.
"Don't really know, my neighbor set me up on a blind date. I didn't even know I was going until this morning." You shrugged, taking Brett's skates and untying the laces as he worked on his pads. The other boys were waiting for him to get ready so you decided to help him out.
"Do you want to go?" Brett asked, his gaze not leaving his pads but his voice was firm. You could feel the stares from the others boys, all adding to the growing pit of nerves in your stomach. His question was a simple one, yet it felt so loaded you were struggling with coming up with a response.
"We're going to go head out to the ice and warm up, when you're ready you can join us." Mika stated, ushering the boys out of the room and leaving you and Brett in an awkward silence. You were wondering what chain of events lead to this, it wasn't like Brett didn't go on dates so you weren't sure why he was so tense about you going on one.
"Well?" He asked after it seemed like you weren't going to answer him. Finally, he looked over to you, taking his skates out of your grasp and placing them on the ground beside his feet. He didn't move to put them on, instead he placed a hand on your knee. "Do you want to go?"
His touch was like fire but unlike earlier, your senses heightened instead of fogging up at the contact. You could feel every pounding beat of your heart, smell his cologne, hear the ticking of the clock in the corner. Your mind raced as you thought back to every moment you’ve spent with him over the past few months. How he always knew what to say to get you to laugh, how even his smile made a stressful day dealing with the media and the boys had you relaxing. Late nights at his apartment watching movies turning into sleepovers once you had fallen asleep on his couch and he was too much of a gentleman to wake you up and send you home. How he, without fail, would bring you a coffee on the mornings of away games where you had no idea where to get your own cup. You knew your answer, but it was just a problem of actually conveying it.
"No." You said simply, Brett nodding before returning back to his skates. You tapped your fingers against your thigh, feeling a surge of unusual confidence as you thought about what to say. In all honesty, you really just wanted his touch once more. A million and one thoughts were racing through your head but you couldn't force any out of your mouth. "I don't want to go. Not with him."
Brett's fingers stilled over his laces, abandoning them once more as he sat up to face you. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the sound mixed with the almost hopeful look in his eyes made your nerves double—and at this point, you didn't think that was even possible.
"Who would you want to go with, then?" Brett's voice was almost a whisper, as if he was afraid of breaking the bubble that seemed to develop around the two of you if he talked too loudly. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, your hand moving up to cup his jaw. You almost died on the spot when he leaned slightly into your touch, your thumb dragging over his cheekbone.
"Who would you want to go with?" You repeated his question, watching as his lips quirked up ever so slightly. You took note of your close proximity, the way his leg bumped against yours and how his head dipped slightly towards you. His eyes never broke their stare into mine and you nodded, giving him silent permission to close the rest of the distance between the two of you. And he did, not letting another moment pass.
If you thought your heart was racing before, you were certain Brett could feel it thumping as your lips pressed together. So many unspoken emotions were conveyed in the simple kiss, and it ended all too soon for your liking. Brett was the one to pull away first, his bright smile present on his face and you decided that it was your second favorite thing about him. His kisses definitely topped the list.
"I think you better call your neighbor and cancel that date, you've already got plans." Brett said, making you laugh and drop your head onto his shoulder to smother your smile as he finished tying up his skates. You helped him put on his shoulder pads and sweater, stealing kisses every time you even came close to his face. When he eventually made it onto the ice, he pressed one last kiss to the top of your head before going to take a few warmup shots.
"Finally!" Brady shouted, having spotted the small act of affection between the two of you. You blushed deeply, taking a seat on the home players bench as the team circled around you. They started chirping Brett, something you figured was inevitable, but it was all smiles from everyone. "I thought I was going to have to crash your date and tell him you already have a boyfriend." Brett laughed, shoving his teammate playfully, though his gaze never wavered from yours. Your smile widened as the next sweet words left his lips.
"You would've had to beat me to it, Skjei."
149 notes · View notes
Text
cheesy
summary: Brett’s extra cuddly one quiet morning and you don’t complain.
warnings: n/a
word count: 1k
note: this is really short but it’s some howdy fluff because I’m stressed about finals and putting everything off.
Tumblr media
A few rays of sun hit you in the face, stirring you from your sleep. That, and the scruff slightly scratching the skin of your neck had you opening your eyes. You smiled, knowing that the stubble belonged to your longtime boyfriend, and his even breathing clued you in that he was still asleep.
You took this quiet opportunity to admire his soft features, a few curls puffed up here and there, and you nearly sighed when he cuddled tighter into your side. He nuzzled his face deeper into your neck as you carded your fingers through his curls. You loved moments like these, and with his usually hectic winter schedule, you savored every minute with him like it was your last.
“Mm, g’morning.” He mumbled, blocking the sun from his eyes by hiding in the crook of your neck. You scratched slightly at his scalp, smiling softly as you heard his satisfied hum.
“Morning, Brett.” You sighed, stopping your movements but keeping your fingers threaded in his hair. The both of you were quiet for a moment, trying to wake yourselves up slowly. It wasn’t everyday he didn’t have an early morning practice he had to race off to, and the days where he couldn't even wake up next to you because he was on a road trip were the worst.
“Can you hand me my phone?” He asked, eliciting a groan from you, but nonetheless you rolled over slightly to grab the device on your nightstand. He probably could’ve gotten it himself, but since you knew how little he was able to have lazy days like this, you gladly got it for him. “Thanks.”
“Mhm.” You mumbled, taking your turn to cuddle into him and hide your face in his neck. It was quiet for a few moments longer before soft music began playing in your shared room through the Bluetooth speakers located throughout the whole apartment. Dating a professional athlete definitely had its perks and you had never felt so relaxed then you did with him in that moment. “What time is it?”
“Ten twenty-six.” He responded after glancing at the time on his phone. You nodded, shifting your position so you laid atop him. Your legs rested between his, your hands crossed together on his chest and you rested your chin on them. Brett shut his phone off, grinning goofily down at you. Somehow, he managed to be even more adorable. 
“What’re you lookin’ at?” You teased, tilting your head slightly but never breaking the sleepy eye contact. 
“Just the love of my life.” He responded casually, placing one hand on your hip and the other began rubbing up up and down your back. You rolled your eyes, the huge smile never once leaving your face as you leaned forward to place a peck on his lips. “What’re you lookin’ at?”
“Just some cocky hockey player.” You shrugged, your lips tilted up into a smirk. You always had been comfortable enough with each other so that you had a healthy amount of chirping in the relationship, and as Brett had just demonstrated, he also was a total softie. “Who also happens to be the love of my life, even though he’s super cheesy.”
“He sounds cool.” Brett mused, and you laughed, dropping your forehead onto to his collar bone to hide your face. You could feel his chest rise and fall as he chuckled as a result of your laying on top of him. Once both of your giggling stopped, you looked back up to him. “I’m serious, you know.”
“‘Bout what?” You asked, though you were pretty sure you knew what he was going to say. You just wanted to hear him say it. It was nice hearing him say it every once in a while, though he was constantly reminding you in ways other than words. He grinned at you, moving his hand from your hip to cup your cheek, his thumb dragging over your lips slowly.
“That I love you. A lot.” At his words, you beamed, feeling your heart swell with all the love and admiration you felt for the boy. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his languidly, both still feeling the effects of sleep and wanting to remember this moment for as long as possible. You were a sucker for him, and he was just as far gone for you.
“I happen to love you a lot, too.” You gushed once you had pulled away a moment later. Brett grinned up at you, and without warning had his arms wrapped around your torso and pulled you impossibly closer to him. “Brett!” You squealed, surprised at his sudden movements and tickled by his scruff as he placed dozens of goofy kisses on your face in rapid succession. 
Once you had finally convinced him to drop you, you took a moment to even out your breathing. When you finally looked back up at your boyfriend, he was still smiling at you as if you were the most important thing in the world. Scratch that—he was looking at you as if you were his world. 
And you knew he thought of you as such. His world was crazy, nothing stayed the same week to week except for you. No matter where he had to go that day, whether or not he was playing at Madison Square Garden or on the west coast, he knew you’d be there for him, even if it was only over the phone. You were the constant in his life, no matter how many times you assured him that it was no big deal, that you loved him and would do anything to make him happy, he adored you. 
And in return, you loved how safe he made you feel. Never in your life had you felt so comfortable and open with anyone other than Brett. He never made you feel as if your flaws were flaws, rather than just a few more things to love about you. Given the chance, you would gladly spend the rest of your life with Brett if it meant you always got to feel so totally and utterly loved.
“You’re such a cheeseball, Howden.”
143 notes · View notes
Text
it’s what you deserve - pt. five
summary: just when things were starting to look up, there’s a knock on your door.
word count: 2.3k
link to the rest of the series 
Tumblr media
You had long since decided that Sunday's are for sweatpants and catching up on work. And since Bee had picked up an extra shift at work, you were left alone to finally tackle the paper that was assigned weeks ago and had been seemingly taunting you.
Boys were the furthest thing from your mind, and since you had blocked out the day for yourself, you were a little surprised by the knock on your door. A look through the peephole had your stomach twisting, and you briefly hesitated before opening it.
“Hey, Max.” You spoke quietly, standing in the opening of the door. You hadn't responded to any of his texts since he left your place the night before, your mind running a million different ways. Part of you thought that it was ironic, you couldn't get a text out of him when you wanted and now that you didn't want to hear from him, he was practically blowing up your phone.
“Hey, can I come in?” He asked, and there was something about the tone of his voice that had you stepping aside to let him in. You were silent as you closed the door behind him, giving yourself the extra few seconds it took to gather your thoughts. When you turned back around, his coat was already resting on the arm of the couch and he made himself comfortable on the cushion next to it.
“What's up?” You questioned, drawing out the words slowly. These past few weeks that you had spent getting to know Brett had thrown you for a loop—you knew that things with Max weren't the best, but it hurt hanging out with Brett only to end the day alone once again.
So maybe that's why you sat beside Max on the couch, one leg tucked underneath you as you faced him slightly.
“I've been doing some thinking.” Max started, and you nodded. A small part of you was glad that Bee wasn't home, you could practically hear her saying something along the lines of ‘oh I didn't know you could do that’ or some other smart remark. Maybe she had been spending a little too much time with Ryan Lindgren, she was getting better and better at chirping with each passing day.
The larger part of you was nervous at his sentence. That was the part of you that noticed the way your heart picked up in pace, how your mind was racing with possibilities of what he exactly could have been thinking about that warranted him showing up unannounced. Granted, it wasn't the first time he did something like this. Usually it was because he was apologizing for standing you up or something like that, so you assumed he was doing again. Which was why the next words out of his mouth surprised you so.
“And I think we should be official. We deserve to be together.”
You were certain your shock was evident. That was absolutely the last thing you expected to hear come out of his mouth. In the entire few months you had been seeing him, one thing had been clear. Max doesn't do relationships. It wasn't this thing, and it wouldn't be for the foreseeable future.
Apparently, the future was now. And he was waiting for your response.
“I—I...” You stuttered, proud of yourself for even getting that much out. His confession challenged everything you knew to be true about him. He was someone you had figured just didn't care about others or how his actions affected you. He had you convinced that he was just stringing you along, but the way he was looking at you had you reconsidering. You were overwhelmed, so your next word tumbled past your lips without really even meaning them too. “Okay?”
Max grinned, leaning back into the couch with an arm thrown over your shoulder. You smiled through the confusion, blaming the suddenness of everything for the way the action felt forced. When he leaned over to press a kiss to the side of your head, you relaxed a bit, melting into the cushions. Still, you felt like your mind was somewhere else, like you couldn't stay in the moment with him.
And as he clicked on the television, everything felt the way you had said. Just... okay.
Hours later, after Max had left claiming he had some work to get done, you were once more alone on the couch. Bee had stopped by after her shift before heading back out to get dinner with Adam, and you had updated her on the weird events of the evening. Her annoyance at him was obvious, but she claimed that if you were happy then she was, and you told her you were. Though from the look on her face you could tell she didn't quite believe you.
For the second time that day, a knock on the door startled you out of any work you could have been doing. Not that your focus was great, anyways, your mind had been running wild with thoughts about why Max decided now would be a good time to make things official, not the dozens of times before when you had brought it up. Before you even had the chance to standup to get the door, your phone buzzed from its spot beside your papers on the coffee table.
Come let me in I brought dinner
The text brought a smile to your face, but then again, Brett never failed to do that.
Subconsciously, you found that your steps were quicker as you made your way to the door, and you wasted no time in swinging it wide open. Brett stood on the other side with a bag of takeout that he definitely would not tell his nutritionist about. His arms were open already and you wasted no time in wrapping your own around him.
Once you pulled away and led him into your apartment, you decided you didn't have to tell him about Max just yet.
“I'll get plates, you pick something good.” Brett told you with a smile, setting the food on the coffee table and disappearing into the kitchen before you could get a word in edgewise. You fell back into your previous spot on the couch, just opening up Hulu before he returned.
“Did Bee put you up to this?” You questioned with a relaxed smile, one that Brett returned with a shrug of his shoulders. He pulled the food out of the paper bag he had brought it in and you realized he had gotten your favorite from the place down the street. He even remembered your usually order, though you were certain you had only gone there twice in all the time you've been hanging out with him.
“She may or may not have told me that you've been working all day and needed me to come save you from yourself.” Brett didn't realize the hidden meaning behind Bee's words, and he was still trying to keep everything light, but it didn't go over your head. You focused on your plate, not wanting him to see the way your face fell or how your grin was replaced with a frown. “Also, I wanted to see you before we leave for the roadie tomorrow.”
“How long is this one again?” You questioned, trying to regain some of the normalcy of your typical time spent with Brett. Something felt off and you weren't sure if it had to do with you and Max being official or the fact that you didn't feel like telling one of your closest friends about the new development in your relationship. Either way, you felt guilty and Brett was none the wiser to your internal conflict.
“Just down to Pittsburgh and then to Philly. Back to back so I'll be home in two days.” Brett explained and you nodded, silence falling over the two of you. You weren't sure what had gotten into you, because for seemingly the first time in your friendship with him, you weren't sure what to say. And it wasn't a comfortable quiet—no, this felt stifling. Even worse than what had happened after the shelter worker assumed you were together, because it was your fault things were awkward. You were keeping things from him that really shouldn't matter. But you always cared about what he thought, and you were afraid he'd be mad at you for accepting Max's offer—though now that you thought about it, it felt more like he was letting you know you were official instead of asking.
Your mind was racing, trying to come up with any idea of just what you could do to make things fall back into place with him. It was painful, feeling like you had to dance around a subject with someone that everything felt so easy with that morning.
“Can I say something? And you have to listen, like, you have to let me finish, okay?” Brett asked, setting his plate on the coffee table and you copied his actions. For a moment, you were worried that your heart was going to beat out of your chest, worried that maybe he could hear how heavily it was pounding.
“Of course, Brett. Anything.” You assured him. You were certain that you meant it and he would never do anything to hurt you, but that didn't stop the fear and nervousness bubble up in your chest. Maybe he already knew about you and Max, that Bee had sent him here with the intention of changing your mind via a speech on how he was disappointed in you. Maybe—
“I think you're amazing.” He started, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was looking at you with such sincerity, you almost tore your gaze from his. Almost. His confession had you frozen in your spot, though he hadn't really confessed anything. Even so, you were pretty certain you had some idea where this was headed. “I've thought you were amazing since the day I met you.
“And when I found out you had a—a thing—with Max, I thought that maybe I might be able to get over how I felt in order to stay friends with you. But then we started hanging out more and more and I don't know, it just got too hard to stand by and watch.” He continued. The blood was pounding in your ears and it made it hard to hear him as he kept talking, but you picked up him saying things like stunning, smart, and funny, and you realized he was talking about you. Describing you like that. “And I like you, so, so, much. I was wondering if you'd want to go to dinner—”
“Brett...” You voice was soft, barely above a whisper but it cut him off dead in the middle of his sentence. It was all so devastating, the way he made your heart race from simply showing up at your apartment, and it in a good way. The honesty in his voice as he talked about how he felt was too much, and you couldn't sit there another moment without letting him know. It just felt wrong.
“You can't tell me you don't feel the same. That you don't feel like this.” As he spoke, he took your hand that had been resting limply in your lap and placed in on his chest. Your palm was directly overtop his heart, and you could feel it pounding under your touch. You were doing that to him and your heart was beating just as fast. It just made everything you were about to say that much harder.
“Max came over this morning.” You felt like you were going to be sick as you spoke, retracting your hand from Brett's grip. You heard him suck in a breath, saw him tense in his seat but you had to keep going or you'd never get it out. Your hand slipped from his grip, falling back into your lap and suddenly the bed of your nails were the most interesting thing in the room. “He asked if we could be official.”
“And?” He prompted like he didn't already know the answer. Like he couldn't tell from how you were acting, and you could tell he knew too, just by how tightly his hands were squeezed into fist. You knew he wanted to say something about it, but he was waiting for you. Somehow, you knew he'd always wait for you.
“I said yes.” You couldn't look at him, not when he had been so candid about how he felt about you just moments ago. You didn't look up at Brett even as he stood, taking the plates from your coffee table and bringing them to the sink.
You couldn't help but wonder why he had to be such a good guy. Maybe if he yelled at you, for whatever reason, it wouldn't hurt as much to have to turn him down. But that wasn't who he was. He wasn't the type of guy to get mad at you for being unavailable, or get mad in general. He was too understanding, too nice, and it was killing you.
You still hadn't looked up by the time he returned to where you were perched on the edge of he couch, sitting as straight as you ever had. One of his hands moved to your jaw, tilting your head up carefully so you were looking at him. There was a sadness behind his eyes, a look that you were certain reflected in your own.
Why did it all have to be so hard?
“You deserve better than him. It doesn't have to be me, but, please, not him.”
And with that, he left, shutting your apartment door behind him and leaving you a mess on the couch.
51 notes · View notes
Text
it’s what you deserve - pt. two
summary: you’re reunited with Brett at the charity gala, but life still finds a way to remind you of reality
word count: 2.1k
link to the rest of the series 
Tumblr media
Part of you had been annoyed when Bee dragged you through store after store on your day off, but now that you were looking at yourself in the mirror, waiting for Adam to pick you and Bee up, you were glad you went. 
The dress you had picked was a perfect color, and the fit did wonders for your body. Bee had done your hair in an elegant style and even your makeup looked really good. Long story short, you were feeling yourself. Bee noticed, too, because as soon as you left your room to meet up with her in the living room she was gasping at how good you looked.
“Bee, you literally just saw me. All I did was put on the dress.” You waved off her dramatics, but the smile you wore as a result of her compliments was obvious. She went to respond, probably only to hype you up some more, but cut herself off when there was a knock on the door. A big smile bloomed on her face, and you assumed that her boyfriend had arrived. Your suspicions were proven to be true when the door swung open and one of the top line defensemen for the New York Rangers stepped into your apartment.
Introductions with Adam weren't uncomfortable, and you certainly didn't fawn over the fact that he was a hockey player—nor did you even mention the sport. He was simply the guy that had been making your best friend extremely happy, and that meant he was good on your list.
You didn't feel any nerves until you were actually at the venue, seeing flashing cameras and mobs of people. You were used to crowds, having lived in New York City for a considerable amount of time, but usually the people didn't care about the ones around them. Even if you knew the cameras weren't really on you, it was still unnerving to have them pointed in your general direction.
“Just keep walking, Ryan's already inside so we can meet up with him.” Adam explained as if he could sense your panic, something he and Bee seemed to have in common. He was looking between you and Bee despite the fact that you had no idea which Ryan he was talking about. There were two on the team, but Bee seemed to know who he was referring to so you decided to follow her.  
The cameras were a little intimidating, but Adam kept making jokes as you walked into the venue to lighten the mood and you could tell that he was going to be a good friend.
“Foxy, Bee. There you guys are.” An unfamiliar deep voice sounded, gaining the attention of the couple walking slightly in front of you. Following the source, you spotted a blonde—Ryan Lindgren—greeting his defensive partner Adam with a bro-hug. Bee shot you a look, one that was purely teasing, and in retaliation Adam tugged her into his side in good fun. You looked to Ryan, fake gagging to draw a laugh out of him.
“You're just jealous.” Bee teased, blowing a dramatic kiss in your direction that had you playfully rolling your eyes. Adam then introduced you to Ryan, and shortly after your small group was joined by Filip Chytil, Czech accent obvious even in his simple greeting.
For a while, you were able to hang out with the boys and get to know them, and it was fun. You got on well with the guys, able to keep up with their chirping and even firing back with some teasing of your own. But eventually they were pulled away, their older teammate Chris Kreider coming to collect them from the table you had snagged, but they promised to return. Adam gave Bee a parting kiss and Ryan jokingly shielded your eyes, earning a laugh from you. As soon as the boys were out of earshot, you turned to your best friend to find her already looking at you.
“I like Adam. He's nice.” You told Bee, knowing that she had been dying for your opinion on him since the moment you had been introduced. Your best friend smiled widely, clearly happy with your answer. You chatted with her for a moment longer, before your attention was drawn to the stage at the front of the gala hall.
A middle aged man came on stage and thanked everyone for their donations and expressed gratitude for the New York Rangers for supporting them. Then, the Rangers filed out onto the stage, smiling awkwardly with having the attention on them while they just stood there. Your gaze scanned down the line of players, and only did you stop your perusing when you landed on a particular brunette.
“Oh, my god.” You started, feeling your cheeks heat up once you remembered what had happened between classes a few weeks ago. You had told Bee, but nothing more came of it other than a joke between the two of you and a new sweatshirt hanging in your closet. “I forgot about Brett.” Bee looked at you questioningly, but then a look of realization crossed her face and suddenly she was laughing loudly at you. You weren’t sure just how you managed to forgot him, his was devastatingly handsome. “It's not funny.”
“It really is.” Bee giggled, ignoring your pouting. You turned back to the stage, listening to the man talk more about the charity and the events auction of signed Rangers merchandise and equipment that will be available throughout the night, clapping when you need to. Your focus was mostly on the tall boy standing behind the announcer, the one who had been kind enough to give you his sweatshirt after accidentally knocking your coffee all down your front.
Like he had promised, Adam returned after escaping a media frenzy, saying that he wanted to introduce you and Bee to the rest of the guys on the team. He led you through the crowd, arm wrapped protectively around Bee as he walked leaving you smirking at the fact they were so blatant in their affection. A large part of you was happy for him, but you still couldn't help but think about how things between you and Max were never as good as it was with Bee and Adam.
You smiled politely as Adam introduced you and Bee to the crowd of Rangers players. Some had been pulled away to talk to press, so they weren't all there, and you were slightly glad for that. It would've been a bit intimidating to meet the whole Rangers roster at once. Everything was going smooth until Adam waved someone over.
“It's you!” The newcomer gleefully shouted, and you felt the tips of your ears burn red as you recognized Brett. Bee laughed outright, while you chuckled nervously with a nod under the confused looks from the boys.
“You know each other?” Adam asked eyeing his girlfriend to try and figure out why she was reacting the way she was. You were a little thrown by the fact that he actually recognized you from such a small interaction, and even Brett seemed caught off guard by his own response to seeing you again.
“He kind of hit me with a door when I was leaving a cafe and I spilled coffee on myself.” You were full on blushing by this point, not sure if it was from the embarrassing memory or having so many sets of eyes on you. A beat of silence passed before the whole group was laughing, and it took you only a moment to realize they were laughing at Brett instead of you.
“Good job, bud.” Ryan Strome said between laughter, clapping Brett on the shoulder. You glanced up momentarily to see that Brett was blushing too, and that sight alone had you smiling down at your feet.
After that, the boys dispersed, having various people they were supposed to talk to and some even had interviews they had to finish. You found yourself sitting at the bar counter, having split from Bee and Adam to give them some alone time. You weren't by yourself long, though, because a figure that was rapidly becoming familiar joined you.
“I didn't know you knew Adam.” Brett started. You glanced at him, seeing him and his breathtaking smile already looking at you. For a second you didn't respond, too caught up in the fact that he was choosing to talk to you instead of anyone in the whole gala hall. Maybe you had been overthinking it, but it was a nice thought.
“I mean, I only actually met him tonight, and when you hit me with a door I was a bit distracted.” You teased, and somehow his smile got even wider. You turned your attention to the drink in your hand, tearing your attention away from Brett. You were basically openly staring at him, and you really didn't need him thinking you were weird.
“I'm still sorry about that.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. Like you had done in the cafe, you waved him off. You weren't one to hold a grudge, especially over an accident. It provided you with a story, one that if no one else, at the very least Bee found to be incredibly amusing.
“No big deal, though my shirt is ruined.” You giggled, knowing that the white fabric was permanently stained no matter how much you tried to clean in. Brett winced, clearly still upset that that he had spilled on you. “I mean, I got a new sweatshirt out of it, so I think it was worth it.” At this, his smile returned and he leaned against the counter beside you.
Conversation with Brett flowed easily after that, and it was a little unnerving with how quickly you were comfortable with him. You were laughing at nearly everything he said, and your responses kept him smiling. You talked about everything from your schooling to his favorite hometown ice cream parlor. You were in the middle of telling an animated story about your childhood dog that had him gigging like a fool when Bee and Adam decided to make an appearance. You didn't have to address the teasing smirk she was donning, looking between you and Brett with a mischievous glint in her eye, because your phone started vibrating to indicate an incoming call.
Checking the caller ID, Max's name and photo appeared. You showed Bee the phone, and she did nothing to hide the roll of her eyes. You ignored her, a habit you had been forced to develop ever since you starting bringing Max around.
“Hey? What's up?” You questioned, turning slightly away from the small group you had formed to take your call.
“Babe, I'm coming over soon so we can hang out.” Max spoke through the phone and you furrowed your brows. You had a hard enough time getting him to hangout on the nights you were free, but the one time you tell him you had plans he suddenly is coming over.
“Max, you know I'm out.” You heard Bee scoff behind you, letting out a ‘Typical’ that you pretended not to hear. You felt three sets of eyes on you and desperately wanted to end the call as soon as you could.
“But I want to see you.” Max pleaded, and you caught yourself from scolding him like a child.
“I can come over later, but I'm not leaving early.” You decided, not letting him dictate your night like had you before. You were having a genuinely good time at the gala, and you were making friends with a professional hockey team. Max could wait.
“Forget it. Don't bother.” He huffed, hanging up on you before you could get another word in. You looked at your phone in shock for a moment, but then you clicked it off and set it on the counter. You were right in your suspicions when you turned around and saw that not only Bee was looking at you expectantly, but also Brett and Adam.
“Is that your boyfriend?” Brett asked, a hint of something in his tone you couldn't quite pinpoint, making it different than how he had sounded earlier in the night. Before you could respond, Bee scoffed loudly and attention was shifted to her.
“Max doesn't do relationships.” She mocked, repeating what you had told her when she asked why you weren't official. You stayed silent, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as Brett analyzed at you with a confused and... sad look in his eyes. You weren't sure what he could've been upset about, but you were just as confused as him about where you stood with Max.
“No,” you started, fiddling with the napkin the bartender had given you with your drink. “not my boyfriend.”
48 notes · View notes
Text
it’s what you deserve pt. one
summary: you’re running late to an important class, what more could go wrong? 
word count: 1.6k
link for the rest of the series
Tumblr media
Living with your best friend meant many nights spent on the couch giggling about anything and everything under the sun. It meant random texts asking if you had seen a shirt she wanted to wear only to feign ignorance and pretend that it definitely wasn't the one you had on. It also meant that you got to tease her early in the morning before class when she's hungover from going out with her new boyfriend the night before. And that just might have been the biggest perk of all.
“Did you drink the whole bar?” You teased, calling to your best friend Bee over your shoulder as she sat slumped at the kitchen table while you dug through the cupboards. “I know it's called Thirsty Thursday, but you didn't have to go that hard.”
“Fuck off.” She groaned, eliciting a chuckle from you. You didn't feel too bad about making fun of her, knowing damn well that she would gladly return the favor next time you went out with some coworkers and looked the way she did the next morning. “I wouldn't have drank as much as I did if somebody hadn't bailed on me.” You pursed your lips, not bothering to respond right away as you found the box of granola bars you had been searching for. Taking one for each of you, you put the box back in it's spot before turning to lean backwards against the counter.
“I told you,” you started, punctuating the first part of your sentence by tossing her granola bar towards her, grinning slightly as she flinched when it landed in her lap. “Max said he wanted to talk and that it was important.”
“I'm sure that whatever Mr. Egotistical had to say was very important.” She huffed, rolling her eyes. She took an obviously annoyed bite of her granola bar as if her distaste for him wasn't already obvious. Your gaze flicked to your own bar in your hands, the conversation almost taking away your appetite completely as you fiddled with the plastic wrapper. You knew she wasn't mad at you for canceling on going out with her boyfriend and his friends, but just annoyed that you bailed because of Max—especially since she knew you had been looking forward to meeting her boyfriend.
It was no secret that Bee didn't like your... Max. You'd been seeing the guy from your psych lecture for a little over four months and he still hadn't put labels on what you were. You certainly weren't seeing anybody else, but you weren't convinced on his own fidelity. You knew deep down that whatever was going on between you and Max wasn't the healthiest, but surrounding that was the selfish feeling that told you it was nice to have someone pay attention to you like Max did. You had convinced yourself that even if he wasn't perfect, he was good enough and you deserved something along those lines.
“So what did he want to talk about, anyways?” Bee questioned, her voice softer now. If you had to pick just one thing you loved about your best friend was her uncanny ability to always know when you were having internal debates and needed a change of topic. The girl could practically read your mind. Her gentle smile faded, though, to a look of confusion when you shrugged your shoulders in response.
“He just wanted to hang out, I guess.” You tried to downplay it, but you knew that Bee was biting her tongue to stop herself from saying something about how he was being manipulative, it wouldn't have been the first time she said something about him doing so and though you'd never admit it, every now and then you could see what she meant. But still, you kept quiet and responded to his every text, even if it sometimes took him whole days just to get back to you with a ‘sorry, just seeing this’ message.
Sometimes it got really hard to convince Bee you were perfectly fine with how things were with Max. Sometimes it was even harder to convince yourself you were fine.
Living in New York City meant public transport was a must, no matter how much you hated it. But that also meant that you got to spend a few extra minutes a day catching up with Bee as you rode the subway.
“Adam just texted me.” She stated, smiling subconsciously as her boyfriend's name appeared on her phone. You warmed at her happiness, and a small part of you wondered if you'd ever get that with Max. “Oh, shit, I forgot to ask you.” She said as she read the text, and you raised a brow in silent question. You stepped closer to Bee to let some people off at their stop, trying your hardest to make yourself take up as little space as possible on your morning commute to class. “The Rangers are having a charity gala, and Adam asked if I'd bring you as a plus one because he doesn't want me to be alone when he has to chat up old guys all night. It's in two weeks.”
Bee's Adam was Adam Fox, star defenseman for the New York Rangers. When she had told you she started seeing a new guy you had been excited for her, and when she showed you a picture of him you had nearly screamed. You were a huge hockey fan so the fact that she was dating someone on the team was exciting, but as time went on you were seeing him more as your best friend's boyfriend instead of a professional athlete.
You snorted at her explanation, asking for more details about the event before finally agreeing by the time you were at your stop. As you left the subway tunnel and joined the crowd of pedestrians on the street, Bee was talking your ear off about what to wear and whether or not you'd have to go shopping. You were on the side of just finding something in your closet, but Bee told you she was going to drag you to the store at some point the following weekend.
You weren't sure why you decided to pack most of your classes onto the same day, but you did and you had a twenty minute break between classes that found you down the street and standing in line at your favorite coffee shop. There were more people than you would have assumed, so by the time you had gotten your drink you were racing out the door to make sure you made it to your final class of the day.
As if life knew that you were in a rush, as soon as you reached the door of the shop it swung open on you, knocking your drink and spilling your iced coffee all down your front. Of course this had to happen the one day you're wearing a white shirt and late for class.
“Fuck, I'm sorry!” A deep voice apologized as soon as you realized what had happened. You waved off the man who had hit you with the door, tossing your now-empty cup in the trash as an employee rushed over with some napkins and a mop to get the coffee that spilled.
“It's fine.” You assured the stranger, looking up to finally meet his guilty gaze only to be met with quite possibly the most attractive man you had ever seen. Light brown hair, greenish blue eyes, and a bit of facial hair. He also was wearing a suit, and all of this combined led you to recognize him as Brett Howden of the New York Rangers.
“Let me buy you a new one.” He offered, a sorry look on his face as watch you futilely dab at the coffee stain on your shirt that made the white fabric a light brown. You felt your face burn red with embarrassment as you realized you must have looked like such a mess in front of someone who played for your favorite hockey team.
“I'm fine, really, I'm running late for class anyways.” You tried to brush it off, but Brett shook his head, not letting you get away so easily. A blush bloomed on his own cheeks as he thought about his next response.
“I have an extra sweatshirt in my car you can have?” He offered, and you eyed him for a moment, weighing your options. You couldn't miss your next class, it was attendance mandatory and your professor had a habit of locking the doors before starting lecture. You also couldn't just go to class in sit in a soaked, coffee stained shirt. Before you knew it, you were nodding, following him out the door and to a nice car parked just down the street from the cafe. “Don't worry about returning it, I have about a hundred of these.”
“Thank you.” You replied, trying not to smile too dumbly at the blue and red sweatshirt he handed you. Of course, it was a Rangers sweatshirt, with a number twenty-one on the sleeve that had your heart skipping a beat without your permission. You tugged it on, finding that it was way too long on you, but it covered the stain so it worked. It was really soft and smelled like what you assumed was Brett's cologne—but that totally wasn't the reason you liked it so much.
“Um, good luck in class?” Brett offered, wincing slightly and chuckling at the awkwardness of his own sentence. You laughed, not quite ready to leave Brett on the sidewalk but knowing you might have to just run to make it to your class on time, you took a step backwards and waved.
“Good luck with your game tonight.”
And with that, you turned, slipping into the crowd on the sidewalk and once more blending in with the rest of the city, leaving Brett staring at the spot where he had seen you last with a soft smile on his face.
48 notes · View notes
Text
it’s what you deserve - pt. four
summary: Brett gives you the day out you deserve to get your mind off of Max.
word count: 2.2k
link to the rest of the series
Tumblr media
The next morning you woke up to the sound of the front door slamming shut. Still feeling the effects of sleep, you rolled over to find your phone, which you thankfully had the common sense to plug into the charger the night before.
A crimson blush coated your cheeks as you remembered just what had happened before you crashed into the pillows. Max bailing on your date with no explanation or heads up. Bee telling the boys that it was a fairly common thing and lamenting about how much he sucked. Brett coming in and comforting you.
That's the one that got you the most, because you were used to the actions of both Bee and Max, but Brett being there for you was new. It was also something you could get used to, remembering how ease you were laying with him. Not that you would tell that bit of information to anyone.
You had a couple of texts, one from Bee saying she had to go run errands and was meeting up with Adam after. That explained the front door shutting that had woken you up. The second text you had received subconsciously brought a smile to your face, though you didn't let yourself think too much into it.
I have morning skate and a team meeting at night but from brunch until dinner I'm all yours
Brett had sent you the message early in the morning, presumably before his skate. You contemplated your response, but then you read his subsequent text, and you were gigging to yourself.
You're not allowed to say no, by the way. I already got Bee's permission and I'm picking you up
Not sure just when Brett would show up, you quickly hopped into the shower and got ready. You also weren't sure what he had in mind for the day, so you chose a simple pair of jeans and a sweater that was casual but nice enough for brunch.
Just as you were searching for a pair of matching socks, there was a knock on the door. You tossed it open, after checking to make sure it was who you were expecting, and soon after Brett was greeting you with a hug.
“So am I allowed to ask where you're taking me?” You teased, retreating back into your room to find your shoes. Brett followed behind you, chuckling as he trailed. You were smiling widely, a grin that was mirrored on his face.
“I'm taking you for brunch, and then I have a few other places I want go but other than that you can pick.” He shrugged. Unlike when he was in your room the night before, he took in his surroundings as you sat on the edge of your bed and tied your shoes. There was a small vanity in your room, the top full of pictures of your friends and family, along with the odd textbook. He was examining the various photos and objects that littered the desk, and you took a moment to admire him.
When you had first met him, you knew he was the most handsome guy you had ever seen. Getting to know him over the past few months only reaffirmed the fact that he was attractive in both looks and personality. Now that he stood in your room, with his back to you, could you take a moment to take in his appearance.
His hair was a still bit damp from his post-practice shower, but mostly it was covered with a beanie. He wore a sweatshirt with a jean jacket overtop, black denim pants, and it was all tied together with a pair of nice white sneakers. You glanced up, meeting Brett's gaze in the mirror. Immediately, you flushed, worried that he might have caught you staring.
He didn't say anything, though, and instead led you out of your apartment and to the diner of his picking. You both ordered, and he told you how his morning skate went. After a moment, neither of you were talking, though you were both looking at each other with a soft smile on your faces. It was dangerous, having him look at you like that and for the sake of your sanity you had to do something about it.
“As much as I love this,” you started, balling up the straw wrapper and tossing it at his face, eliciting a chuckle from him. “and I do, trust me, but why am I being kidnapped all day?”
You almost immediately wanted to take back your question with the way Brett reacted. His shoulders slumped a bit, his smile dropping to a more neutral look, and suddenly the napkin he was fiddling with was the most interesting thing.
“I felt bad about the whole Max thing last night, you don't deserve that.” He said with a shrug. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but before you could even began to question it, the waitress reappeared and set your plates down in front of you both.
Brett made sure to change the topic after that, asking you about classes and your family and anything else he could think to distract you. And it worked, because by the time you were leaving the diner and on your way to the next location, you remembered his odd behavior, though you decided not to question it.
The place Brett had wanted to go to was a rescue shelter, and if you hadn't been so excited to see the dogs and cats, you probably would've melted right on the sidewalk. You had mentioned weeks ago that you missed your family dog, and that you liked to go to shelter to feel better.
“We can go someplace else, if you want.” Brett said, rubbing the back of his neck. He must have interpreted your silence as bad, but when you turned towards him and he spotted your grin, an infectious smile of his own grew across his face.
“Are you kidding me? Come on.” You chuckled, grabbing his hand and tugging him inside. You were certain that you had no effect on whether or not he moved, and that he was just indulging you in thinking that you were actually pulling him. It was endearing, how he could throw you over his shoulder whenever he so chose but acted like you were pulling against his will. Inside the shelter, a middle aged woman stood behind a counter, smiling brightly at you as you entered.
“Hi! Can I help you with anything today?” She asked, looking between you and Brett.
“We wanted to look at the dogs?” Brett told her, and she nodded, handing you both a sign in sheet before gesturing to where the kennels are located.
“Are you guys looking to adopt? Any of these dogs would be lucky to go home with a couple as lovely as the two of you.” She said politely, not realizing her mistake in assuming. It was then that you realized you hadn't dropped Brett's hand yet, which you so did like his touch burned you.
Which, okay, it did—but not in a bad way.
“We're not, uh, together.” You explained, cheeks flaming up at the implication. You risked a side glance towards Brett, only to find he was very focused on signing his name, his own blush creeping up his neck and turning his entire face red. She apologized, but you waved her off, heading in the back where the dogs all were. For a moment, things were stiff between you and Brett for what felt like the first time since you had met him. It was suffocating, almost, the few inches separating you as you walked side by side felt like miles due to the silence.
“Big dogs or little dogs?” He questioned, and just like that things were normal again. You looked over to him, grin on your face matching his. In an act of bravery, he slung an arm across your shoulders and tugged you into his side.
And you stayed like that, tucked under his arm, even when he dropped you back off at your apartment. You had insisted that he didn't need to walk you all the way to your door, that nothing was going to happen to you in the elevator ride up, but he claimed his mom raised him to be a gentleman. You were glad he did, though, because when you stepped off the elevator there was a figure outside your door.
“Max?” You questioned, shock evident in your tone. He hadn't texted you since the night before, when he had said that he was going to meet you at the restaurant—the very same one he didn't bother to show up at. You could feel Brett tighten his grip on you, his arm pulling you slightly closer into his side.
“Hey, there you are.” Max replied, looking at you and pointedly ignoring Brett as you approached your door. Bee wasn't back yet, so you wondered briefly just how long he had been standing there. Only when you reached your door, did Max shift his attention to the man you had arrived with. “It's Brent, right?”
“Brett.” The Rangers forward replied, his voice colder than you had ever heard it. You busied yourself by putting the key in the lock, hoping Brett would get the silent signals you were sending his way to tell him not to leave you alone with Max, to stick around until he left. You didn't feel like dealing with him at the moment, especially since he had been ignoring you for nearly twenty-four hours at this point. “Mac, right?”
You cleared your throat, trying hard to hide your smile at Brett's comment. Clearly, years of dealing and taking hockey chirps had taught him how to be petty. Plus, the look of surprise on Max's face was enough to make you feel slightly better about how he had treated you.
“Can I ask you why you've been hanging around my girl a lot lately?” Max asked Brett and you stiffened. You were in no way, shape, or form his girl and if anything, his actions the night before proved that.
Something seemed to switch in Brett in the second it took for him to digest Max's words. The Brett you knew was smiley, he was soft and often giggled. He was playful, sometimes messing up your hair just because he knew it'd get you to joking glare at him. You adored that Brett.
The Brett standing before you was glaring harshly at Max, shoulders squared and looking very much like the six-foot three professional hockey player he was. He didn't scare you, you were positive you could never be afraid of him. You did, though, worry about how Max would react. You didn't know why he thought it would be a good idea to piss Brett off, but you knew you had to intervene before things got out of hand. You didn't want to deal with a fight in the hallway outside your apartment, you could practically smell the testosterone between the two men.
“You need to leave, we're not doing this right now.” You told Max, and after a short staring contest with Brett did he look at you. Still, he didn't say anything to you, studying your face and trying to find out how he could come out on top. Only once Brett cleared his throat did he stop analyzing your every move, and once more you were thankful he had come up with you.
“I'll see you later, babe.” Max said, leaning down to press a kiss your lips. At the last second, once you realized what he was attempting to do, you turned your head to the side and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. He didn't comment, only looking at you with confusion before deciding to take leave. Everything was silent, you and Brett watching Max's back retreat until he was cut off from your view by the elevator.
“I don't get it.” Brett sighed, shaking his head. Your heart sank at the mere thought that he was disappointed in your choice of men, in you. You opened your apartment door, slipping just inside and turning to face the tall boy standing in the hallway, looking at you with the saddest expression in his eyes. The short interaction with Max took your mood and tanked it, and all you wanted to do now was lay on the couch and mope.
“You should probably go to your meeting.” You started, hating yourself for being the cause of Brett's shoulders slumping, his hands buried in his pockets and gaze trained on the floor. He really did have to go, but he hadn't moved.
You caved. You wanted him to go so you could clear your head about everything that had happened in the past ten minutes, but somehow you knew that you would feel so much worse if you let him leave while upset. So, you wrapped your arms around his middle, and he instantly tucked your head against his chest, resting his chin on top of it.
“Thank you for being here today, Brett.”
40 notes · View notes
Text
it’s what you deserve - pt. six
summary: you and Bee have a day without boys to get your thoughts straight, so why is Max here?
word count: 1.5k
link to the rest of the series
Tumblr media
“Do you want some wine? I'll get you some wine.” Bee didn't even wait for a response as you both sat on the couch, waiting for puck drop. Ever since the events of yesterday happened, you had been moping around the apartment and Bee was getting sick of it. Thought, she'd never tell you that, she knew just how much you were struggling with this.
When you had told her what Brett had said, and how everything went down, she simply listened and without her even commenting on anything, you knew what her response would be. She had said before how much more she liked Brett than Max, and back then when you had thought there was no chance of Brett liking you, you had simply rolled your eyes and playfully shoved her shoulder.
Now, she knew you well enough to not even bring it up.
“Are you sure you want to watch the game? I'm fine with Parks and Rec, if you want.” Bee questioned as she returned to the couch, handing you your glass and sitting beside you. It had been a boy-free day, and with Adam having left early that morning to go down to Pittsburgh, it hadn't been a difficult task. You even hadn't heard from Max in a few hours, giving him some excuse about schoolwork that needed to get done for why you couldn't hang out.
“No, the game is fine. I'm fine. It's—it's fine.” You assured her, flashing a tight lipped smile before taking a generous sip of your drink. Bee rolled her eyes, leaning forward to snatch the remote off of the coffee table and muting the television. You frowned, though not because you were upset you couldn't hear the pre-game stats given by the broadcasters.
“Okay, we're going to talk about this.” You knew what she was talking about, but that didn't mean you had to let her know that. You'd been doing your very best to avoid talking about the recent developments of your romantic life, you'd even tried to avoid simply thinking about everything that happened. “About Brett, and Mac—”
“Max.” You corrected with a roll of your eyes. You should have known she would do that, she had thought it was the funniest thing in the world when you told her Brett had called him that the first time they met, and she figured it was a great passive aggressive way to vent her frustration towards him.
“Whatever, you know what I want to talk about.” Bee ignored you with a dramatic wave of her hand and you couldn't help but giggle at her. She never failed to distract you when you needed it, but she also kept you grounded. “I can tell you're not happy.”
“Please, how can I not be happy? One of my closest friends confessed his feelings for me yesterday and I had to tell him in with someone he doesn't think deserves me.” You sighed, sarcasm practically dripping from your words. Bee pouted out her bottom lip, resting a hand on your knee comfortingly.
“Are you happy with Max?” Bee's question was quiet, and your only response was a shrug. Confusion was the honest answer, you didn't know what to feel with Max. You had been doing this thing with him for so long, it felt weird to suddenly just give up. “You deserve to be happy, you know.”
“It's starting.” You mumbled, seeing both teams at center ice for puck drop. Bee dropped the conversation, knowing during intermissions she would be able to question you further.
Turns out, she didn't have to wait that long. About halfway through the first period, the loud sound of someone getting checked into the boards made you jump. Now, you were no stranger to the various noises made in a hockey game, but something different about this hit had you straightening in your seat.
You hadn't been able to take you eyes off of him when he was on the ice. Even when the camera panned to the bench, you found yourself looking for the familiar number twenty-one.
So when Brett took a particularly hard hit into the boards that he should have seen coming, you gripped your glass tight. He was slow to get up, but thankfully he did. You held your breath as he skated to make a line change, only exhaling when he stayed on the bench instead of making his way to the locker room. You knew it was a good sign, but still, you worried.
“He's okay.” You faintly heard Bee mutter beside you, knowing she had been watching your reaction from the moment she realized what had happened. You nodded once, not really knowing you were doing it. Then, the next play was whistled off sides and the announcers stopped talking about the plays, and instead about the hit Brett had just received.
“I know it's early in the game, but Howden's been distracted. He's fumbled the puck, taken big hits, and made several messy passes that have resulted in unnecessary giveaways.” The first announcer said, and you were certain from the look on Bee's face that she would've taken the remote out of your hand and muted the television if you didn't have a white-knuckled grip on it.
“It's not your fault—” Bee's comment had barely passed her lips before the announcers continued, the camera following Brett as he sat on the bench, clearly in pain from the check he had taken moments earlier.
“He's been good recently, but something has thrown him off his game today.” The first announcer continued.
“Or someone.” The second broadcaster joked, before their attention was returned to the ice, puck being dropped and the Rangers taking possession. Bee didn't say anything, or if she did, you didn't hear her. You were too caught up in your thoughts about how maybe they had a point, that maybe Brett was just as affected by all this as you were. And now you were distracting him from hockey, his job.
You hadn't heard the knock at your door, nor seen Bee get up off the couch to answer it, but her calling your name snapped you out of your daze. Your brows furrowed together as you catalogued her annoyed expression from the doorway, and as you approached you realized why she was frowning.
“What are you doing here?” Max. He had, once again, shown up unannounced at your doorstep when you told him you had other plans.
“I wanted to hang out, and I figured you could just do your work tomorrow.” Max said casually, looking into the apartment like he wanted to come in, but you didn't move from the doorway. Bee gave your arm a gentle squeeze, using her powers of knowing just how to comfort you and when you needed it, before slipping down the hall and into her room.
Your thoughts were racing, and you realized that none of the good ones had to do with the boy standing at your doorstep. You thought about things like how he didn't make your heart skip a beat with a simple charming smile. How he made you cry more times than he made you laugh. That he had yet to introduce you to his friends. That he only really cared about you when he thought he was losing you to a professional athlete.
And it was scary, almost, how easy the next words fell past your lips.
“I'm breaking up with you.”
Scary how you felt the weight of the world lift off your shoulders.
You knew Bee would've laughed at the flabbergasted look on his face, how he looked so shocked that you had said that. But you did, and you stood tall, one hand on the door ready to shut it at any moment and officially remove him from your life.
“What? You—you can't just—what?” He stuttered and you took some satisfaction in the fact that he was so caught off guard by your declaration. A bit of petty retribution for all the months of heartbreak and games. A self-satisfied grin found its way onto you face.  
“I'm breaking up with you.” You repeated, voice firm as you made sure he heard you correctly. You were treating him like a little kid, but then again, he did act like one the entirety of your relationship.
“Is this about Brett? You're really going to leave me for him?” As he spoke, you felt anger bubble up inside of you. Brett may have been the catalyst for the breakup, but things had been building. You were tired of being strung along, lied to, and stood up. Brett made you realize that relationships could be better, that you could be treated better. But, instead of explaining this all to him only to be met with an argument about how you should stay together, you plastered a sickly sweet smile on your face and spoke next with all the firmness you could muster.
“I deserve better than you.”
And then you shut the door in his face for the last time.
36 notes · View notes
Text
it’s what you deserve - pt. three
summary: Max stands you up, but thankfully Brett is there to comfort you.
word count: 1.6k
link to the rest of the series
Tumblr media
You were mad. Plain and simple, you were ready to blow. It was supposed to be date night, your hair and makeup done to perfection and your favorite outfit donned your body. And you had been excited too, getting to the restaurant a few minutes early in the hopes of getting to spend just those extra moments with Max.
In the weeks following the gala, you had grown incredibly close with not only Brett, but majority of the Rangers. It wasn't unusual for two or three of them, usually including Adam or Brett, to show up to yours and Bee's apartment for dinner or just to hang out. You had quickly learned that NHL players were pretty inept at cooking, and though most desperately missed home cooked meals, the most they could muster was a reservation somewhere in the city. In return for essentially being their personal chefs, you and Bee had been given tickets to more Rangers games than you ever would have hoped.
But your growing friendship had become a point of contention between you and Max. You didn't understand it, but he told you he didn't like that you were hanging out with other guys so much, even if one was Bee's boyfriend and the others were nothing more than friends. So when you told him that you were confused, instead of explaining, he apologized for overreacting and promised to take you out to dinner.
Cut to you storming home, tired and hungry, a frown seemingly etched permanently on your face. You weren't at all surprised to open the door and see Bee, Adam, Ryan, and Brett all sitting on the couch, open pizza box on the coffee table with only a couple of slices left.
“Hey, what are you doing back so soon?” Bee questioned, no longer paying attention to the show no doubt the guys had picked. She was tucked under Adam's arm, practically on his lap to make room for all the guys on the couch. You didn't stop to take in how cute they were together, instead you moved into the kitchen. Small New York City apartments meant that the kitchen and living room were practically the same, so they could still see you as you maneuvered around to get a glass of water.
If Bee was a superhero, her power would be the ability to read minds. Or maybe it was just incredibly obvious that you were pissed off, and you had been in this exact same situation on more occasions than you'd like to admit. So when you glanced at her over your shoulder as you stood with your back to the living room while filling up a glass of water, you weren't surprised to see her look of confusion melt to one of pity, a little bit of anger burning in her eyes.
“He didn't fucking do it, not again.” She stated—it wasn't a question. As much as she hated Max, she hated seeing you upset more. Her first instinct was to comfort you, and only after she was certain you were okay would she let her anger free. You'd lost count of the amount of times the two of you got wine drunk on the couch and talked about how much boys sucked, though ever since she had met Adam you were doing most of the complaining.
“Who did what?” Ryan questioned, glaring at Adam when he elbowed him in the side. You turned around, a tight smile on your face as you leaned backwards against the kitchen counter.
“Max, uh, he didn't show up.” You explained, trusting the boys sitting on the couch more than you'd like to admit. Your gaze was focused on the glass in your hand, ignoring the weight of all their gazes on you.
“Why?” Brett questioned, catching you off guard. So much so, that your head snapped up and you met his gaze. You felt your mouth go dry, the water you'd been sipping suddenly doing nothing. You didn't have an answer, so you stayed quiet. Shrugging, you grabbed a plate out of the cupboard before making your way into the living room to steal a slice of pizza.
“Sometimes he just bails without explanation. Sometimes without even telling her he's not going to show up.” You barely registered Bee explaining and Adam and Ryan calling Max an asshole. At this point, you were more exhausted than angry and no one protested when you said you were heading to your room.
You turned on a sitcom so you wouldn't really have to pay attention, eating your pizza while eyeing your phone, waiting for Max to say something, anything, to explain what had happened. After finishing, you wiped off your makeup and changed into sweats and pajamas before climbing under the covers. This wasn't the first Max had done this, but it didn't make it suck any less. A knock on your door interrupted your pity party, gaining your attention.
“Come in.” You called. You didn't know who you were expecting it to be, knowing that Bee wouldn't knock and just come in if she needed something. You weren't all that surprised, though, when Brett opened the door, standing just inside your room and shifting from foot to foot.
“Are you okay?” There was something about the way he asked the simple question with so much concern that you felt tears prick behind your eyes and your throat start to tighten.
“It's fine.” You tried to wave it off, but your voice betrayed you, cracking halfway through your lie. Brett's expression somehow softened, and you briefly wondered how he managed to look so kind all the time.
“No, it's not.” His voice was a little hardened when he said this, but you knew it wasn't in response to you. You stayed quiet, watching as he sighed, shutting your bedroom door before making his way over to the empty side of your bed, toeing off his sneakers and laying on top of the of the covers beside you.
“I'm fine, I promise.” You said quietly, pulling the covers up to your chin and turning onto your side to look at him, your show long forgotten. Brett was on his side too, facing you at eye level. For a split second you wondered if his feet were hanging off the edge of the bed, but then he spoke again and you were brought back to reality.
“You don't have to be fine.” Brett told you, barely talking louder than the show that had been long abandoned. “And you can tell me about it if it's not.” You nodded at this, because in the several weeks that you had gotten to know Brett, you were certain that he was telling you the truth, that you could trust him with whatever need be. Taking a deep breath, you started.
“It's just, I know things aren't great with Max. But relationships aren't going to be great all the time, you know? And I feel like I'm just waiting for him to realize that he has to put effort into this too, but I'm starting to wonder if I'm just getting played. Wouldn't be the first time.” You ranted, some parts quick and jumbled together and others you paused for a few seconds to figure out what you wanted to say. Throughout all of it, though, Brett never looked away or seemed like he was uninterested and judging. It was a little unnerving to bare your soul like that to someone like Brett while having him looking at you the way he was, but it also felt really nice to be seen and having your concerns heard. “And I'm not looking for advice, by any means, but I just needed to hear it out loud and have someone listen.”
“You know I'm here for you.” Brett said quietly after he realized you were done. There was an unreadable look in his eyes, one that would've threw you for a loop if you weren't so tired from everything that had happened in the past few hours. You rolled onto your back, knowing full well that he was still watching you, watching for a reaction.
It was a reaction you didn't have. He told you he wouldn't push, and he wasn't—verbally, at least. You could tell in the way he was looking at you that he wanted you to say something. If he took the same stance as Bee, he was waiting for you to renounce Max from your life and start new, maybe even going to a bar and engaging in a one night stand. But that wasn't your style, and they new that.
You didn't have a response to any of it, too in your head about anything and everything that could possibly be going on in your life. And maybe the fact that you couldn't string together two thoughts, couldn't give the people you were closest too in life a straight answer on a topic they desperately wanted to know, was the reason you said what you did next, unprompted, after a few moments of listening without watching to the long forgotten show.
“Maybe it's what I deserve.”
And then you closed your eyes, completely missing the look of utter confusion on Brett's face on how someone like you could deserve to be treated the way you were by Max. It took him a while, but he eventually decided on what he wanted to say to you, to comfort you, to reason with you, to set the record straight. But by then, your breathing had evened out and you had finally drifted off to sleep after a stressful evening, exhaustion having consumed you. There was no way he was going to wake you, so instead of reciting what he wanted, he carefully crawled off the bed and slipped out your bedroom door.
Another time, perhaps.
35 notes · View notes