#also tito looks so good and mat. is there :

[beauvilliers]

New York Islanders | 2023 Pucks and Paws Calendar Photo Shoot

[youunravelme]

the worst wing-woman

author's note: just like all my other fics, we are existing in an alternate plane where tito was never traded. also i've never worked for the nhl, so i have no idea how accurate being a photographer is but guess what. idgaf. also sorry for the amount of italics in this fic, i have no self control apparently. and shoutout to my new friend @dani746 for helping me with this monstrosity.

summary: you've been in love with mat barzal for as long as you can remember, so what do you do when he asks for your help to win over your friend?

pairing: mat barzal x islanders photographer!reader

warnings: cursing and low self esteem

despite working for the isles for two years now, you still got nervous walking into work.

you weren't a stranger to the team, some of them you knew quite well. anders and marty being two players you were friendly with (mainly due to the fact that you were somewhat friendly with their wives). but there was always one player who eluded you, who you'd only ever had professional interactions with.

mathew barzal.

and it shouldn't be surprising, you were a measly photographer whereas he was the star player of his team, the winner of the calder trophy, an nhl heartthrob. why should he pay attention to you?

media day was one of your favorite days, mainly because it was the closest you ever got to holding full conversations with him. not that the conversations went anything beyond "look right here" or "great job, mat."

you didn't even think he knew your name.

the longest conversation you had with him consisted of him asking to see the photos you took and patting you on your back when he liked what he saw before he went off to talk to tito.

"you having a good day?" you nearly jumped a foot in the air when your staring was cut off by anders walking up to you.

"yeah," you said when your heartbeat returned to normal. "just busy is all." you held your camera up as if that was enough of an explanation.

anders nodded. "any of the boys giving you a hard time?"

you shook your head rapidly. "nope, they've all been on their best behavior."

"even barzy and beauvillier?" at the mention of their names, the duo turned their heads and locked eyes with you and anders.

you wanted to dig a hole and die in it.

"what about us?" mat asked, sauntering over with his best friend right behind him.

"you haven't been giving her a hard time, have you?" anders crossed his arms. and if you weren't panicking at the closing distance between you and mat, you might've noticed the shared smirk between the three hockey players in front of you.

"us?" tito asked. "why would you think that? we've only ever been angels."

before anders could ask you to corroborate tito's story, your name was called. you awkwardly waved to the three men before walking over to another set of props, ready to photograph another hockey player.

"done embarrassing yourself?" your coworker tyler asked.

you lightly shoved his shoulder. "shut up."

"seriously, you're not his type," he added. "he's not gonna go for you."

tyler might as well have stabbed you in the gut with how much his words hurt you, but you put a smile on and nodded. "yeah, i know. i know."

and you did.

you knew.

but you'd be delusional for a little while longer if it meant going to work wouldn't suck every day.

later that night, you found yourself at a bar with a group of your friends. you didn't want to go originally, but when alexa said she needed to go out to get over her ex, you felt like you had no other choice.

which is how you found yourself sipping a soda water in a booth while your friends danced and took body shots.

your gaze wandered around the bar aimlessly before you checked your phone for the time.

you'd only been there for an hour.

it took all self restraint not to bang your head against the table.

"having fun?" your head snapped up at the familiar voice only to see anthony beauvillier standing at the edge of your booth with a self satisfied smirk.

"i--"

"i didn't take you as one to go out drinking on a weeknight," he said.

you slumped into your seat. "i'm not. my friend alexa wanted to go out because her boyfriend just dumped her and she wanted a distraction."

anthony took the seat opposite of you. "and that is...?" he gestured at your drink.

"soda water," you answered. "i'm the DD for tonight."

"oof," he groaned before taking a sip of his beer. "that's rough."

you shrugged. "it's not that bad, i'd rather my friends get home safe than get drunk and show up to work hungover."

anthony nodded in a way that you'd seen other men do, the type of nod that comes right before someone looks around for someone more interesting to talk to.

"but what about you?" you rushed out, nearly tripping over your own words.

tito smiled. "what about me?"

"why're you here?"

he shrugged. "mat wanted to come out and didn't want to go out alone, so here i am."

mat.

you wanted to vomit.

"oh," you mumbled. "mat's here?"

tito nodded and gestured with his bottle to the bar. "he's over there talking to some brunette."

you followed with your eyes and when you finally locked eyes on him, you wished you hadn't.

he was talking to alexa, smiling at her the way you wished he'd smile at you.

maybe you could leave the bar and get hit by a taxi on the way out, that would be less painful than seeing the man you're in love with flirt with your friend.

"you okay?" anthony asked, nudging your leg with his foot.

you turned your gaze back to him and attempted to give him your most convincing smile. "i'm great!" you said before throwing your soda water back and coughing when the carbonation burned.

anthony didn't say a word.

when you looked back at the bar, alexa was nowhere to be found while mat was fiddling with one of his wristbands. you looked around to find alexa, thinking maybe she was in the crowd dancing or perhaps she was in line for the bathroom.

but she popped up at your table, sweaty and smiling.

"you good?" she asked before fixing her eyes on anthony who was sipping on his beer. "who's this?"

"anthony. i know him from work." tito gave her a small wave before taking another sip of his beer.

"alexa," she smiled before her attention focused back on you. "i actually met one of your coworkers, mat right?"

you forced a smile and nodded. "the one and only. what did you think?" though, to be fair, you didn't really want to know her opinion on him. not when you thought the world of him.

alexa shrugged and tossed her perfect hair over her perfect shoulder and gave a perfect smile that was a healthy balance of nonchalant and mildly interested. "he was alright, he knows he's attractive which is rather unattractive if you ask me."

tito choked on his beer while you stared in awe.

of all the words you'd use to describe mat, "alright" was not even close to the top 25.

"something funny?" alexa asked.

"nope," tito supplied, shaking his head. "nothing at all."

alexa looked at him, unconvinced, but didn't let it bother her. "i'm gonna go dance, you coming?" she asked.

you shook your head. "not really my scene."

alexa nodded and pranced off to the dance floor where the rest of your friends were grinding on strangers to the tune of some 2000s pop song.

"she's a delight," tito said.

you sighed. "she's practically miss america." you were too busy staring at her having fun to notice another person walk up to your booth until he was standing right in front of you with a question posed on the tip of his lips.

mat.

your mouth went dry at the sight of him.

"you know her?" he gestured over his shoulder to where alexa was laughing with one of your friends.

you nodded.

"are you two close?"

you shrugged.

mat sighed. "are you capable of speaking?"

tito spoke up. "mat, you just bombarded her without a single hello, chill."

mat pinched the bridge of his nose. "sorry, i just--she rejected me and i don't know why."

"you're too attractive and you know it," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. you quickly slapped a hand over your mouth like that would stop any other bullshit that might come out.

mat tilted his head and leaned in. "huh?"

"her words, not mine," you said like it would absolve you of any guilt.

"what do you mean by being 'too attractive' and 'knowing it'? how does that even make sense?"

you shrugged for what felt like the twelfth time that night. "alexa's not really into guys who are obsessed with their appearances. she just got out of a relationship with a guy like that," you explained.

mat ran a hand down his face before placing both hands on his waist. "so what do you suggest i do?" he groaned.

"i--"

he snapped his fingers and looked at you for what felt like the first time. it sent a chill down your spine that you had a problem suppressing. "can you help me?"

your mouth dropped open. "huh?"

"you're friends, right? can you help me win her over?"

you could list about a thousand other things you'd rather do. you could think of five just off the top of your head.

but he looked so earnest and willing and how could anyone possibly resist him when he looked at you like that--

"of course!" you smiled.

of course?! yes would've sufficed but now you've got him thinking you'd enjoy this. which you most certainly wouldn't.

oh who were you kidding? all attention was good attention when it came to mat barzal and you'd give anything to keep him looking at you.

"thank you!" he smiled before clapping tito on the shoulder. "ready to head out?"

anthony nodded before addressing you. "i had a nice time. see you tomorrow?"

you smiled and nodded, giving them both a small wave as they walked away. the second they were out the door, you thumped your head against the table.

playing wing-woman for mathew barzal.

what the fuck was wrong with you?

how to be a wing-woman: a guide

usually when you went to work, you kept your head down and stayed out of the way. occasionally, you'd run into anders or marty, or maybe even tito, who would say their polite hellos, but for the most part you stayed out of the way during practices.

you were looking at the photos you just took when someone banged on the glass. a quick glance (that turned into a double take) let you figure out it was mat based on the 13 on his jersey and the fact that you could pick him out of a crowd anywhere.

he waved and smiled (and you might've died inside). "can i talk to you after practice?"

you nodded frantically before gaining a semblance of self respect and slowing down.

"great! meet you outside of the locker rooms!" he said before skating away.

"what was that about?" tyler asked. you turned, not even realizing he'd made his way towards you considering you thought he was on the other side of the arena.

"what? can't i talk to the players?"

tyler laughed. actually laughed. "considering barzal has never so much as looked at you, i'd say him approaching you during practice is pretty strange."

your shoulders sunk at the weight of the truth. "if you must know," you started. "he wants to date one of my friends, so i'm helping him out."

tyler laughed again and walked away without saying another word while you scrolled through the photos you took again until practice ended.

you headed towards the locker rooms only when the last player had been off the ice for ten minutes, you didn't want to chance waiting around too long looking like an idiot.

as you waited, you made a mental note of all the editing you'd have to do when you got back to your cubicle. you got a few good shots earlier, but they'd need some tweaking before you sent them to the social media team. in fact--

"hey, what're you doing here?" you glanced up and saw anders, hair wet from whatever brief shower he took.

you shrugged, not sure if it was your place to give away mat's intentions. "just waiting around."

"for?" he pushed.

"barzy needs her to play wing-woman," tito said from over anders' shoulders. "he wants to get with her friend, but her friend isn't interested."

anders threw his head back and laughed. "barzy not getting a girl? that's fucking hilarious."

tito smirked. "tell him what your friend said" he told you.

"she doesn't like that he knows he's attractive," you mumbled.

if it was even possible, anders laughed even louder. "un-fucking-believable."

"what's so funny?" mat walked up, running a hand through his damp hair.

you said "nothing" at the same time anders asked "you got rejected, barzy?"

mat's face dropped before looking at you and tito accusingly. anthony sighed and nudged his best friend. "chill out, barz. she didn't bring it up, i did."

mat's shoulders relaxed before he punched tito in the arm. "dick," he mumbled.

anders looked between the three of you and sighed. "i don't have time for this shit," he said. "i'll see you later." and he was off down the hallway.

"so what's the plan for today?" tito asked.

"you're not included," mat said. his gaze focused on you. "can i have your number?"

you blinked. "what?"

mat laughed a little and you could feel heat and shame running up your spine. he asked you one fucking question and you had to go act like a weirdo. "so i can text you? i think we should sit down and create a strategy."

you nodded and read off your number as he typed it into his phone. "great," he gave you his megawatt smile. "i'll text you."

"okay," you breathed out as he walked away without a thought.

tito kept standing there, smirking to himself. "you're so fucked," he said.

you nodded because there was nothing else to say.

step one: talk him up

you and mat got lunch two days later on a saturday when he didn't have a game. it was rather surreal, sitting across from him in public. the delusional part of you was begging you to imagine this as a date instead of a meeting to set your friend up with mat.

when did your life turn into something so pathetic?

"okay," he started. "tell me about your friend."

you would rather do anything else.

"she just got out of a long term relationship with this guy named jared. he was a bit self absorbed which is probably why she didn't like you knowing how hot you are." you paused as the words left your mouth, ready to set yourself on fire if he reacted. but he didn't, he only leaned in closer to listen. "she uh--she likes daffodils and goes to the farmer's market at union square every saturday."

"but what's she like?" he asked. "what's her personality?"

how would you say she's the trademarked cool girl? the girl every guy wanted, that mat was one man in a long list of men who tried and failed to win her over.

"she's sweet and affectionate," you started. "she pretty girly on the outside but knows her way around a car. she grew up with three older brothers so she knows a fair bit about sports, just not hockey, but if you wanted to talk stats about football or basketball, she's your girl. in college, she held the record for fastest shotgun in her sorority."

you racked your brain for more information about your friend, but it was difficult under pressure to sum up someone you'd known since freshman year of college.

"what else?" mat asked.

"she's a bit of a partier, but knows how to settle down and just chill. she's a really good friend, like last year i dated this guy who was cheating on me the entire duration of our relationship, which i should've known about because he said he had to go on business trips all the time but he worked as a barista, and she held me while i cried for three days straight and even threatened to fuck up his car."

mat stared at you without saying anything in a way that made you want to sink into a hole, never to be seen again. "you dated a barista and thought he needed to go on business trips?"

you blinked. "that's what you got from that? me dating a shitty barista?"

he shrugged. "i heard everything else, but that was definitely the funniest part. how long did you date him?"

"six months," you replied quickly. "but that's not the point! alexa is going to play hard to get because she doesn't want anything too serious right now."

"great! neither do i!"

"but she's not a one night stand kind of girl anymore. so if you want her, you have to prove to her you can be serious enough for a relationship but not serious enough that you get clingy and overbearing and propose within six months."

mat blinked at you. "how the hell does that make sense?"

"believe me, there's a balance."

he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "and you would know this how?"

"well i uh--" you sputtered. your nerves were only encouraged by his light chuckling. "all girls know these things! we don't want overly possessive boyfriends but we also want someone to care. it shouldn't be that hard to comprehend."

"it's not," he defended. "just a little...complicated, don't you think?"

"alexa's a complicated girl!"

he sighed and ran a hand down his face. "okay so how do i show her i mean business but that i'm not looking to settle down and get married?"

"i guess i could talk you up to her in passing conversation?"

"what would you tell her? we don't know each other very well."

"i know more than you think!"

"please, share with the class."

shit.

do you confess that in the two years you'd worked for the islanders that you watched him borderline obsessively?

"well, i know you're good with kids, if your interactions with young fans is anything to go by. you don't like dogs, which is a bit of a red flag in my book, but alexa shouldn't mind. you're a fantastic hockey player, and a great teammate."

"is that enough to convince her?"

you grimaced and shook your head. "she's a bit more personable. she one time broke up with a guy because he was rude to waitstaff. she would want to know how you treat non millionaires and authority figures. for instance, how much do you tip a server?"

"25%," he replied. "but why does that matter?"

"alexa used to be a server throughout college and couldn't stand people who she knew had money but would cheap out on the tip because she didn't greet them fast enough."

mat opened his mouth, presumably to ask another question, when his phone started ringing. "shit," he mumbled. "listen, i gotta go. it was nice talking to you, i'll be in touch." he pulled out a few twenty dollar bills and put them on the table before getting up and walking away.

you waited for the server to come back before paying the bill and told them to keep the change before you got up and walked home.

when you got back to your apartment, alexa was already standing at the door, waiting to be let in.

"finally," she said. "i was wondering when you were gonna come home."

"you could've texted me," you said while unlocking the door.

she followed you inside and shut the door behind her. "i could've, but your phone was on do not disturb for some reason, so i doubt my texts would've gone through in time. where were you anyway?"

"getting lunch with a friend from work," you replied.

alexa groaned as she all but collapsed onto your couch. "please tell me it's not tyler. i hate how he treats you."

you dropped your bag by the door and headed back to your room, but not before calling over your shoulder. "he's not that bad, he's like that to everyone!"

"doesn't make it any better!"

you changed into some comfortable clothing before joining alexa on your couch. "did you have fun the other night when we went out to the bar?"

alexa looked at you weirdly.

shit. you must not have been as subtle as you thought.

"i did," she said. "but what makes you ask."

you shrugged. "i know it's been rough with your breakup lately, but i saw you talking to mat and you looked happy."

alexa groaned and sunk into the couch. "i thought we talked about this already. he knows he's attractive, it's such a turn off. you should've seen the way he was talking, it was like he knew that if he gave me a look, i'd be going home with him."

"well he's really nice, i promise! you should see him with kids at the stadium--"

"you mean the kids who idolize him? yeah i bet he's real nice to them."

okay, switch strategies.

"he tips waitstaff really well!"

"with what he makes? he better." alexa sighed. "listen, i'd be more impressed if he could tell me anything about you, but seeing as you've worked there for two years and he couldn't tell me anything other than your name the other night says all i need to know about him. so can we talk about something else?"

you nodded, ignoring the jutting pain in your chest at her words. you knew well enough that mat knew nothing about you, why would he? but to hear it come from the mouth of someone else stung.

getting them together was gonna be harder than you originally thought.

step two: get them interacting

you were dreading the next time you saw mat for the first time in your life. you were in your cubicle editing photos from the game that night to be posted tomorrow to distract yourself from the inevitable conversation you'd have to have with him. tyler, unfortunately got the shot that was posted immediately to the islanders' instagram account to celebrate their win over the rangers and he had no problem letting you know it. and while it was annoying, it served as a great distraction from your other problem.

"maybe you'll get it next time," he sneered as he packed his bag. most days you hated the fact that you were cubicle neighbors, but neither of you were powerful enough to request moving spaces. and even if you could, you knew it would just make you look hard to work with.

"have a good night, tyler," you replied, not even wanting to give him any ammo to use against you.

the door shut behind him with a click, locking you into sweet sweet silence.

until a minute later when your phone went off with a text message.

mat barzal: where ru?

mat barzal: wanna go to a bar with me and tito and you can bring alexa?

you scoffed. "you can bring alexa," you mocked under your breath. "like that's not the sole reason for you asking me to go out tonight." you packed your bag up and shot a quick text to alexa, asking if she wanted to go out. she replied with an immediate yes, asking where to meet you, which prompted you to reach out to mat who sent you an address in response.

which is how you ended up on a sidewalk in front of an incredibly busy bar with alexa next to you.

"i've never been here," she remarked. "how'd you hear about it?"

"oh, a coworker mentioned it," you said in what was hopefully a nonchalant manner.

she looked at you a moment too long before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. "you find us a place to sit and i'll grab our drinks!" she shouted over the music.

you quickly looked around for mat and tito, the former who'd texted you the second they arrived. you saw a head of dark hair and immediately knew it was mat. you hurried over, panting when you arrived from having to shove your way towards them.

"you made it!" anthony said. you looked at him and mat, eyes bouncing back and forth between them, when you realized your first problem.

they were sitting on opposite sides of the booth.

which meant you would have to sit with one of them, and alexa would have to sit with the other. if mat had it his way, he'd sit next to alexa, but you knew your friend wouldn't have that. she'd feel manipulated and uncomfortable.

"is there a problem?" tito asked.

you gestured to the booth. "alexa will want to sit by me. she's still not convinced about you, mat."

mat, to his credit, didn't look shocked or offended, he just shrugged and moved to tito's side. "this work?" he asked as you sat down.

you nodded.

"so what's the plan? how should i approach this?" he asked.

"keep the conversation on her, when she tries to turn it on you or about your career, focus on other people, applaud your teammates, your coaches, but whatever you do, don't talk about yourself too much. she already thinks you have a big ego."

"to be fair," tito started. "he does."

mat didn't even dignify that with a response. "so keep the conversation on her and others, got it."

alexa found you a moment later and didn't do a great job covering up her disinterest in sitting with mat and beau.

"i couldn't find anywhere to sit," you explained.

alexa didn't buy it if her eyes bouncing around the bar to find empty tables said anything. but she sat next to you anyway, placing your drink in front of you.

"you remember mat and anthony from the other night, right?" you asked.

she just hummed and took a sip of her drink.

"so, alexa," mat started. "what do you do for a living?"

she stared at him and sighed. "i'm a vet tech," she said, but offered no other information.

"she especially loves the cats," you added.

"cats are great!" mat said a little too enthusiastically.

alexa drained the rest of her glass and got up, leaving the three of you behind.

the second she was gone, beau broke into laughter, slapping his own chest. "that was fucking hilarious," he said.

"yeah yeah yeah, laugh it up," mat grumbled, swirling his cup around instead of making eye contact with anyone.

"i'm serious, i don't think i've ever seen you fail so quickly. it's kind of amazing."

mat focused his eyes on you. "what did i do wrong? i tried asking about her life and she seemed wholly uninterested."

you shrugged. "i don't know! maybe she feels cornered?"

tito took a sip of his beer. "i think you need to workshop this. clearly, neither of you thought this through."

you groaned and rested your head on the table.

this was already harder than you anticipated.

step three: reevaluate and regroup

you met mat in a booth of a coffee shop after you got off work. he was staring at his phone when you walked in, completely unaware that you even existed.

which wasn't abnormal considering you didn't even think he knew who you were a few months ago. but the second the barista called your order out, his head whipped up.

you could've sworn time stopped at that moment.

you made your way towards him and plopped down in the booth opposite of him.

"hi," you smiled. "what's up?"

"i don't know what to do, she doesn't seem interested in me." he groaned into his hands before running one of them through his hair.

god he was so attractive.

you snapped out of your reverie. "listen, you've got what it takes, we just need to reevaluate our strategy. i think the bar thing was a bad idea, she felt ambushed and it probably set us back a little, but i have an idea."

he leaned his forearms on the table. "let's hear it."

"practice dates," you said.

mat blinked once. twice. a third time before he spoke. "practice dates?"

"okay hear me out," you said, pulling a notepad out of the bag you brought. "i have a list of things that alexa likes to do and i was thinking, you and i can do them and work on conversations and how to approach her. so when the time comes, you don't feel out of your element."

"who said i feel out of my element?"

you stared at him. "you said last night 'cats are great!' and expected conversation to flow naturally."

"okay so not my best moment."

"not even close." you sighed. "listen, i wanna help you, and i feel like this is your best bet in winning her over."

mat ran a hand down his face. "okay fine. what's the first date?"

practice date one: pumpkin patch

to be quite frank, you were nervous when proposing the idea, scared that he wouldn't be willing to sit in a car with you for three hours just to get to the pumpkin patch. and maybe he would find it childish.

when in fact, he said nothing about the long car ride, he even offered to pick you up from your apartment, and laughed when you offered to pay for gas. when you finally arrived, you jumped out of mat's car like an excited child. mat stepped out like he knew he was the romantic lead in a movie, suave and collected.

you two could not be more opposite of each other.

it took everything in you to focus on the task at hand, and not fall deeper in love with him. but how could you not? when he looked so boyfriend in a coat and flannel and beanie and jeans that hugged his thighs just right--

you were getting ahead of yourself. you were doing this for mat and alexa, not your own selfish ambition.

"so what's the plan?" he asked after locking his car with the key fob.

you shrugged. "what would you do if you were here with alexa?" the words tasted bitter in your mouth. it was such a painful reminder, knowing that this wasn't real and was in service to hook him up with your friend.

mat looked around and shoved his hands in his pockets. "corn maze?" he pointed. you must've made a face because he spoke up again. "what?"

"alexa hates corn mazes."

he paused. "to the pumpkin patch then?" you nodded and followed his lead. "so how did you meet alexa?"

"she was my first roommate in college, we shared the smallest dorm in history."

"that sounds like an exaggeration."

"says the man who never went to college."

he laughed. "i don't need a college education to identify a hyperbole when i hear one."

you gasped and looked at him with wide eyes. "a hyperbole? what a word."

"laugh it up," he said. "but i'm not a complete idiot, you know."

"never said you were. i just haven't heard anyone use hyperbole in a sentence outside of my english lit classes."

"well, you should know i'm full of surprises."

the two of you approached the pumpkin patch and started weaving between families and the occasional rogue toddler. mat had to tug you out of the way a few times when you about stepped on a child because you were gazing at pumpkins.

"if you don't mind me asking," mat started. "why are you helping me? you don't owe me anything. i feel like i'm taking advantage of your kindness."

you shrugged. "you wouldn't be the first one."

"what's that supposed to mean?" you looked up from the pumpkin patch to see mat's brows furrowed together and his mouth twisted in a cute frown.

"well, i mean, i've been told i have a habit of being a doormat at times."

"who said that?" his tone had changed to a softer one.

"huh?" you asked.

"who called you a doormat?"

you shrugged again, that seemed to be your go to move around him. you squatted down to look at a particularly fat pumpkin, inspecting all sides of it before you responded. "i've heard it all my life, some have said it in meaner ways, others have been nicer about it."

"i'm sorry," he said.

you stood to your full height which was still much shorter than mat's. "why? it's not like it's not true."

"what if i helped you?"

it was your turn to frown. "help me? with what? ice skating?"

mat rolled his eyes. "no, with confidence. maybe even get you a date."

you guffawed, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "what?"

mat pulled you out of the way of yet another child and kept his hand on your elbow until you were clear of the pumpkin roots. and if your heart stopped for a few seconds, that was your business, no one else's. "you heard me. you're young, single, and attractive and you spend all your free time at the office or DDing for your friends. we can work on your confidence and get you out there."

"i don't know..." though your mind was still focused on the fact that he'd called you attractive.

"what about that other photographer guy? tony?"

you cackled. straight up burst into laughter. "tyler? that's fucking hilarious mat."

"what?" the two of you continued down the patch, occasionally gazing at the pumpkins, but mostly just talking. "you two are always talking."

talking or being insulted?

you shook your head. "enough about me, we're here for alexa."

mat nudged you with his elbow. "actually we're here for me to win alexa over."

you kicked a small stone with the toe of your shoe and said nothing. the tragedy of your own personal situation wasn't lost on you, neither was the idiocy of your plan. what were you thinking, spending your free time with mat? to win over your friend?

it was textbook self inflicted torture.

"where'd you go?" mat nudged you again. "i lost you there for a second."

you bent down and picked up a smaller pumpkin. "what do you think about this one?"

"it looks fine. you're ignoring my question."

you juggled the pumpkin back and forth in your hands to determine if you liked it or not. "what question?" you looked up just in time to see mat roll his eyes, but he dropped the topic anyway.

the both of you walked over to the stall to pay for the pumpkin. you reached into your tote bag to grab your wallet, but mat was already holding out a five dollar bill to the vendor.

"you didn't have to--"

"do you wanna get some cider?"

you could've started drooling at the idea of drinking cider. "yes!"

mat chuckled and started walking towards the cider stand where a small family waited in front of you. "does alexa like cider?" he asked.

"what a random question."

"well you're not giving me anything to work with!"

you almost groaned. because he was right. you got caught up in the idea of hanging out with mat outside of work that you forgot the real reason both of you were there in the first place.

"she loves cider, especially when it's spiked. she also loves mulled wine." mat scrunched his face up. "not a fan?" you asked.

"warm wine? no thank you."

mat paid for the cider, going as far as having the cash ready before you could even order.

"you really don't have to keep buying things. i can pay!"

"oh this is all a bribe to get you to go through that corn maze with me."

your face dropped. "alexa doesn't like mazes."

"so i won't go with her next time, but you're here now and i wanna go."

you let him drag you along until you were in the thick of the maze. you let him guide the both of you through it like he knew what he was doing even though you were pretty sure you hit every possible dead end in the maze.

two little kids ran past giggling and smiling. "we found the end, mama!"

you almost laughed at the look of irritation on mat's face.

it took an obscene amount of time to get through the maze, and mat was in a much worse mood when it was all over.

needless to say, the ride home was quiet.

practice date 2: dinner at mat's

you weren't quite sure what mat was planning on making for dinner, but you were willing to bet the smell of smoke wasn't a part of the plan.

the scene when you walked into his apartment could only be described as chaotic. the smoke detector was going off and when you walked into the kitchen, mat was going between waving a towel under the detector and opening every window in his kitchen.

"you weren't supposed to be here yet!" he shouted over the noise before darting past you into the living room to open the windows in there.

you dropped your things on the counter and took over waving the towel under the smoke detector.

"what happened?" you asked.

"i suck at cooking!" he came back in the kitchen and took the towel from you. "i'm taller," he said like that was an explanation.

the beeping ceased and left the two of you in a hazy apartment. when you looked around the kitchen, you saw what had to be charred meat and veggies in a skillet.

"okay so when you cook dinner for alexa, don't. just hire a chef."

mat held up his phone. "or order pizza. you in?"

"do i get to financially contribute?"

he gestured to your belongings on the counter, one of which was a bottle of red wine. "you already did."

"you can't keep buying everything," you said. "it's not fair."

"why not? i'm the millionaire here, i'd look like a dick if i made you pay for anything. besides, when i date alexa, it's not like i'm gonna let my girlfriend pay."

girlfriend.

right.

that was the end goal for him.

you kept forgetting.

you cleared your throat and dusted your hands on your pants despite them being clean.

"you can go pick out a movie or something while i order the pizza?" mat suggested.

you had no choice but to nod and wander into his moderately decorated living room. it definitely still looked like a bachelor pad, but if a bachelor had enough money to hire someone to say he needed artwork, decorative pillows, and a couch that wasn't brown.

you were scrolling through netflix when mat came into the living room and plopped on the sectional beside you, shucking his shoes off. why he was wearing shoes in his own apartment was beyond you, but you weren't one to judge.

"you look nice," he commented, as if just noticing you for the first time that night.

you looked down at your own outfit. it was a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. "this?"

"are you wearing something else that i'm not seeing?" he teased.

before you could die of embarrassment, you switched subjects. "what do you want to watch? i haven't made a decision yet." you handed the remote to him, hating being the one to make the decisions.

he shifted on the couch so he was sitting up instead of lounging on the chaise and took the remote. "what's alexa's favorite movie?"

"birdbox."

mat did a double take. "she likes birdbox?"

you shrugged. "she's into suspense."

mat was about to select birdbox until he took one look on your face. you don't know what you looked like but it made him pause. "but are you?"

"why do you care what i like?"

"because you're here, alexa's not. i don't wanna make you watch something you'd hate." mat shifted on the couch. "why don't we work on those dating tips i talked to you about."

"oh i don't think--"

"why not?" he asked. "you're always so jittery whenever we talk about it."

oh.

was he referring to the other day after practice when he saw tyler tormenting you and mat misinterpreted that as flirty banter? mat had come up to you afterwards to give you pointers but you practically ran away.

"it's not that simple, mat."

"i think it is."

you threw your hands up. "well then, by all means you must be right."

"what's with the attitude?" he asked. "did i say something?"

it was a good question. one that shouldn't make you want to cry, but life felt overwhelming in all the worst ways. between tyler harassing you every second of every day and pretending like you weren't in love with mat so you could set him up with your friend, and taking photos for games and practices, you were exhausted.

"i'm not sober enough for this," you said before getting up and popping the cork on the wine bottle and drinking straight from it.

it was another thirty minutes before the pizza arrived and the both of you were well on your way to wine drunk, you more so than mat. who could blame you though? your life was a sad excuse for a single twenty-something and you were tired of thinking about it.

"truth is," mat started with a mouth full of pizza. "you just need to act like you're the best thing that's ever happened to this city. guys love confident women."

"and that's your biggest issue with alexa right now."

"wanna switch personalities?"

you laughed.

"what?" he asked. "what's so funny?"

"i'm trying to picture you without an ego and i don't think it's possible."

mat rolled his eyes but had a smile on his lips anyway. it shouldn't have made your heart pound the way it did, but you were weak for that man, you had been since day one.

so you switched courses.

"okay," you started. "how do i make get a guy to wanna date me?"

mats eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "you're serious?"

you nodded. "as a heart attack."

mat sat up on the couch and faced you. his eyes scanned your face like he was looking for something but couldn't find it. maybe he was looking for a reason to change the subject.

"alright," he said. "you gotta be confident, even if you don't feel like it. most guys don't mind a little insecurity, they find it kinda cute, but a guy who wants an insecure girl is a red flag."

"should i be taking notes or...?" you took a large sip of your wine and smiled when mat rolled his eyes again.

"secondly, you can't be hiding behind your camera all the time."

you guffawed. "i do not hide behind my camera!"

"oh give me a break, you totally do! you walk around like it's a safety blanket or something."

"because it is!"

"exactly my point! thirdly, chivalry isn't dead. if he's not doing basic things like opening doors, walking on the closest side to the street, and he's only talking about himself? run."

"what? he can't be a good person if he doesn't do those things?"

"if he can't do a basic kind gesture, he's not going to do larger ones. sorry. i don't make the rules."

you blinked. "but you kinda are making the rules for me, right now."

"you're such a smart ass, just like tito."

"is that a good or bad thing?"

mat shrugged and took another bite of pizza. "hard to say, i love tito most days."

love.

don't be an idiot and read into things.

"so," mat leaned back into the couch. "i gave you advice, it's my turn. how do i win over alexa?"

you thought back to the conversation you had with her a few weeks ago about mat. and one comment stuck out the most. "i think the biggest sin you committed was not knowing anything about me despite working together for two years," you admitted shyly.

mat's brows furrowed in that cute way they always did. "what do you mean?"

"she said she's not impressed by you being nice to kid fans or tipping waitstaff. she would be impressed if you knew anything about me because i'm not a hockey player."

mat recoiled as if physically struck by your words. "she thinks that low of you?"

"no she didn't mean to say you were--" you paused. "me? you think she has a low opinion of me?"

mat crossed his arms. "she just insinuated that you weren't important enough for me to know."

"no! that's not what she meant! she was saying that you think you're better than me."

"that's not even remotely true." and he said it so confidently, you almost believed him. "it's not, you know that right?"

you hesitated and you might as well have punched him in the gut.

mat said your name so softly like it was precious. like it was something special. "you have to know, i have never, not once, believed you were beneath me."

you gave him a small smile. "you don't need to explain yourself to me, mat."

he reached over and grabbed your hand, tugging on it lightly. "no. i need you to know, you are important to me."

your heart fluttered at his words, or maybe it was the fact that you were holding hands and you could feel the calluses rub against your own palm.

you could've stayed there forever.

"jesus fucking christ, why does it smell like something burned in here?" the front door opened and slammed sending you and mat sprawling apart like you hadn't been locked in a staring contest and holding hands. tito rounded the corner and crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face. "what do we have here?"

"nothing!" you squeaked out. "i was just leaving!"

"no you weren't," mat started, eyes wide with an emotion you couldn't place. "beau was just leaving."

you looked as confused as tito was. "what? no i'm not." you glanced back at mat who could not have looked more annoyed if he tried. "or i can...?"

"no!" you said. "i need to get going anyway. got work tomorrow, long day."

mat stood up when he realized there was no convincing you. "i can walk you out--"

"don't worry about it! i'm a big girl." you were leaving when you heard whisper shouting. you couldn't fully make out what they were saying, but before you shut the front door behind you, you could've sworn you heard them mention "liking her."

you did your best not to let the talking break your heart even more.

practice date 3: ice skating

you made mat pick out the last date but he hadn't told you what it was, just asked for your shoe size.

aside from that?

radio silence.

maybe you should've seen this coming. you'd talked to alexa a few days ago and she'd suggested that maybe you should put yourself out there more, find a date, find a boyfriend, find some happiness.

after practice, you found yourself scrolling through your camera roll in one of the seats in the arena when a pair of skates came into your peripheral. you looked up expecting to see a mop of black hair and hazel eyes.

but it was tito with a sheepish grin on his face.

"hey," he said.

you put your camera down and smiled. it was always good to see tito, with the exception of the other night. "hey, what can i do for you?"

anthony playfully rolled his eyes. "you don't live to serve us," he said. "i don't need anything, just wanted to say hi."

"hi!" you smiled even brighter.

"i was wondering, what're you doing friday night?"

you jaw dropped. and it must've been funny because tito threw his head back and laughed. "what?"

tito smiled at you and gestured towards you. "i was wondering if you'd want to get dinner with me on friday. i don't know what time you get off work, but i was thinking 6:30?"

you blinked. you blinked again. "are you serious?"

"why wouldn't i be? you're attractive, single, and i like your company. i think we'd have a fun time."

"okay," you smiled again. have you ever smiled this much in your life? you were unsure. "okay yeah, friday at 6:30 is perfect."

"great," tito grinned. "can i have your number?" you handed your phone over rather quickly, watching as he typed his number in and texted himself. "i'll see you," he said.

"bye tito!" you waved until he was out of sight. and even then, you continued to stare at the spot he was once occupying.

"what the hell was that about?"

you jumped about a foot in the air when tyler made his comment from over your shoulder. "jesus fucking christ, tyler." you placed a hand over your heart to feel how rapidly it was beating. "are you some sort of lurker?"

"what did beauvillier want with you?" he condescended.

"it's none of your business." you rolled your eyes when your phone buzzed.

mat barzal: come down to the locker room.

"who is that?" he asked, peering over your shoulder, but you stood up and started walking away.

the both of you headed down to the locker rooms, though you weren't really enjoying the company. tyler kept talking about your lackluster photography skills like the both of you didn't have the exact same job title.

you were rounding the corner when you saw mat leaning up against the wall, still in his hockey gear. tyler, being confronted with an audience, immediately departed. if you had to guess, he probably went back to his office to scheme how else to make your life miserable.

"hey," you said as you approached. "what's up?"

mat reached down and tossed a duffle bag at your feet. "open the bag," he directed.

you squatted and opened the zipper to see a pair of ice skates. you looked up at mat who looked pleased with himself. "what're these for?"

"you ever been ice skating?" he asked.

the short answer? no.

the long answer? once in second grade for a field trip.

"kinda?" you said instead.

mat laughed, like an actual laugh. there was a shiver that went down your spine at the very sound of it. "it's a yes or no question."

"i would say yes, but i was like eight."

"yeah, doesn't really count anymore. grab the bag, let's go." he walked off without a second thought, leaving you scrambling with the bag and rushing after him.

"what's the point of this?" you called after him.

"you told me to pick the last date, this is it!"

you stopped walking immediately. "mat, i don't know if this is a good idea..."

as if sensing your hesitation, mat turned around and walked back towards you. he rested his hands on your shoulders and squeezed lightly, ducking his head down towards yours. "i'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you, i promise. you have nothing to be afraid of."

"what if my boss sees? what if lou sees? i'm a lot more replaceable than you are."

mat scoffed. "first of all, you're not replaceable. second of all, it's gonna be fine. i'll take all the heat if we get in trouble, which we won't because it's not a big deal." he reached down and grabbed your hand that wasn't holding the duffle bag. "now c'mon."

he led you out to the bench where you sat down and placed your camera on the bench. "take your shoes off and put these socks on." he tossed a pair of socks at your head that you barely caught in time.

"but i'm already wearing socks," you said.

"these are longer, unless you want the boot to cut into your ankle."

safe to say, you put the socks on.

mat knelt in front of you to help put the skates on, tying them up so they were secure on your feet.

you wanted to swoon at the sight of him before you. thankfully, he stood up and helped you to your feet before you could start imagining anything preposterous.

like him proposing.

you watched as mat slid over the top of the bench railing and onto the ice. he turned around and looked at you expectantly.

"oh hell no," you said. "where's the door, i'll use the door."

he cackled as you walked and opened the door, but skated to you anyway to give you some assistance when stepping onto the ice.

"easy does it," he said, chuckling when your grip was practically crushing his fingers. "you're okay, i'm not gonna let you fall."

"it's not you i don't trust, it's me."

mat kept a grip on your hands and led you out to the center of the ice. on the way to the center, you slipped twice, a squeak leaving your lips. you quickly latched onto mat who only laughed at your death grip on his forearms.

"it's not funny," you whined. "i'm terrified."

"you're right, it's not funny. but it is cute." he removed your hands from his arms and skated away from you. "okay, now come to me."

he was easily twenty feet away.

you glanced down at the ice and then back at mat. you would've sat down if you knew how to without eating it. "mat, i'm telling you right now, that's not gonna happen."

"it's not that hard."

"you've been skating since you were a child. i have not." you attempted to take a step forward, but thought differently of it. "besides, how does this help you with alexa?"

"easy," he said. "if i can teach you to skate, i can teach anyone."

"so your idea of a romantic date is a girl busting her ass over and over for an hour?"

"not quite," he said, skating circles around you.

literally.

"you're being an ass,' you whined. "why did the one practice date you pick out have to do with hockey?"

"because it's what i love. and if a girl can't hang with it, our relationship is doomed to fail."

you rolled your eyes. "that's a bit dramatic. you can appreciate and love hockey without having to ice skate. thousands of fans do it all the time."

"but my girlfriend won't be just a fan, now will she?"

your heart sank at the idea of alexa and mat in a similar situation. alexa actually trying to skate and looking beautiful while doing so. you pictured them laughing as she slipped and mat catching her before she could fall.

"you okay? i lost you again." mat skated right up to you, leaving maybe a foot of space between the two of you.

"yeah," you breathed. "just thinking."

mat smirked and skated backwards. "uh oh. that can't be good. less thinking more skating. would it help if i pushed you?"

"no!" you shrieked. "it definitely wouldn't!"

but it was too late. mat was skating up behind you and placing his hands on your waist. "relax," he murmured. "i'm not gonna push you without a little guidance."

relax?

relax?

when his hands were on your waist and he was mumbling in your ear?

how the hell was anyone supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions?

mat added a little pressure to your back. and suddenly you were moving. "that's it," he praised. "now just move your feet."

it was easier with mat's hands on you, the sensation forcing you to focus on the warmth of his palms than the fact that you were skating on sharp knives.

"see? this isn't so bad, right?"

it wasn't too terribly bad, truth be told it was just like roller skating, just ten times scarier.

"yeah," you said. "not too bad."

"so you're ready to go by yourself?" his hands starting slipping away, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

"i--"

but he was already skating away. he stopped about twenty feet away and smiled. "skate to me."

"mat--" your voice shook at the idea. skating with him was one thing, skating to him was another.

"hey," he said quietly. "eyes on me, okay? i'm not gonna let you fall, if i think you're gonna fall, i'll catch you. i was the fastest skater in 2020, remember?"

you nodded. "just like roller skating," you mumbled.

"except better," mat added.

you took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other, slowly but surely gliding towards him. you started picking up pace the closer you got to him.

"mat?"

"you're doing great!" he smiled.

"i don't know how to stop!"

mat laughed even as he caught you. his arms gripped your biceps and his smile was a mile wide. "you okay?" he asked.

you couldn't help but smile. "yeah," you breathed.

there was hardly any room between the two of you. your heart was beating wildly in your chest at the proximity, the rush of skating alone, who knew? you surely didn't.

you looked into his eyes and could've sworn his gaze dropped to your chin, but you were known for your hopeless romantic delusions, so maybe--

"hey!" whatever trance you were in ended when you saw a man in coveralls standing at the end of the rink. "time's up, i gotta clean the ice!"

"sorry!" mat called. "we'll get out of your way!" he gently took your hand in his and skated the both of you back to the benches.

mat helped you take off your skates and walked you back up the tunnel towards the locker rooms. the both of you stopped just outside of them, considering mat still had to shower and go home while you had the rest of the day to do your work.

"this was really fun," you said. "terrifying but fun."

"i'm glad you enjoyed it." his smile just about made you collapse into a puddle.

but you got a grip on reality and nodded. "well, i hope this helps with alexa, i'll try to talk to her in the next day or so, see where her head is."

mat's jaw clenched but he nodded. "i'll be seeing you."

"bye, mat."

you might as well have been on cloud nine by the time you got up to your office. you were in a different zone, focused on the way that mat's hands felt on your body, in your own hand. the feeling of euphoria wouldn't leave your body, you were sure of it. nothing could take that feeling away.

until you got to your desk and saw tyler.

who was sitting on your desk and using a paper clip to get the dirt out from under his nails.

"what were you and barzal doing?" tyler asked, moving off your desk, instead choosing to lean up against the cubicle.

you ignored him.

"i asked you a question," he said.

"i heard you, tyler. but i have work to do." you signed into your computer and plugged your camera in, ready to start uploading and editing photos from practice and the game yesterday.

“do you really think sleeping your way through the roster will help you get your pics chosen for the social media accounts?” he sneered.

you froze, your fingers hovered over the keyboard. "what?"

"i said--"

"don't repeat it." another voice joined in and when you turned around to see who came in, you were flabbergasted.

mat.

"barzal i--"

"where do you get off talking to her like that? talking to anyone like that?" he stepped into the room, chest puffed out.

in all of your time working for the isles, mat had never been much of a fighter, but he looked ready to pummel tyler if need be.

"mat, it's fine," you mumbled.

"no, it's not. is this how he normally talks to you?"

you said nothing.

that only seemed to make mat angrier. "you need to go to HR about this. this is workplace harassment. now apologize," he directed at tyler.

"for what? speaking the truth? is this how you think you can get ahead in life?" tyler said to you. "first beauvillier now barzal?"

you and mat both froze. in the corner of your eye you could see his jaw clench before he looked at you.

"can you do your work from home?" he asked.

you nodded. "i just have a shit ton of editing but i can do that on my laptop--"

"great. i'll take you home."

"but my boss-"

"if anyone has a problem with it, they can talk to me. let's go." mat was spinning on his heel and walking out of the room as quickly as he came in. you were unplugging your camera and logging off your computer, packing up your things, before sprinting after him.

"mat! mat, wait up!"

he stopped walking and looked at you, an unfamiliar expression in his eyes. "can you wait for me outside the locker room? i still have to shower and change."

you nodded. "why did you come upstairs anyway?"

"to give you the skates." you glanced down at his empty hands. "i forgot the bag, and by that point, i was too lazy to go down and get them without you."

the both of you continued your walk until you got to the locker room.

"i'll be a few minutes and then i'll take you home."

true to his word, mat was only gone for ten minutes before coming out freshly showered and ready to go home. neither of you spoke until he was pulling the car out of the parking garage.

"what did tyler mean when he mentioned tito?" mat asked after moments of silence. his fists were gripping the wheel tightly, though you didn't know why.

"tito asked me to dinner on friday."

mat's fists tightened their grip on the wheel and his jaw clenched so hard, you were afraid he was going to chip some teeth.

"oh." was all he said.

"something wrong? i just figured for once i wouldn't be hiding behind my camera like you said and i thought it would be fun, you know? we get along fine. why? do you think i shouldn't go?"

"no!" mat said quickly. "no, i just, it just caught me by surprise is all. i'm sure you'll have fun."

"and i can give you alexa's number if you want to ask her out! she's coming over tonight so i can talk you up now that i know more about you, make it seem more genuine."

"yeah," he choked out. "yeah, that would be great."

mat pulled up to your apartment a few minutes later and watched as you got out. "i meant what i said in your office," he said. "you need to tell HR about tyler's behavior."

"i will." you probably wouldn't. "thanks, mat."

he nodded as you shut the door and waited for you to go inside before driving off.

you walked up the stairs to your apartment and unlocked the door. as you shut the door behind you, you felt the weight of today bearing down.

tito asking you out.

the moments with mat.

the slut shaming comment from tyler.

when did your life get so dramatic?

step 4: get her to say yes

you had alexa over that night, armed with a million reasons why she should say yes to mat.

and the one reason why she should say no was locked deep in your chest. your happiness and affection for him shouldn't deter her.

besides, you would eventually get over your silly little crush, right?

right?

"so what's new in your world? i feel like you've been so busy lately. it's kind of strange," alexa said before shoveling a forkful of pasta in her mouth. it should've been disgusting, but she made it look graceful.

"oh you know, just working."

"is that why you were in the middle of nowhere a few weeks ago? work?"

"what?"

"i checked your location, you were on a farm. didn't realize the isles was doing photoshoots that far out of the city."

"oh they're not," you explained. "i was with mat, we were just hanging out."

alexa blinked. "since when do you and mat hang out?"

ouch.

but true.

you couldn't come out and say it could you? that the reason the two of you started interacting was because he wanted to date alexa?

no, you couldn't.

so you lied.

"oh, the social media team wanted me to get some information on mat, like a get to know you segment. they wanted something outside of work, so we were just hanging out so i could write this article on him."

a complete lie. you haven't had to write anything on anyone since your college journalism class. but alexa didn't know that. you never told her what you do all day for work. for all she knew, you could be running the tiktok account.

alexa raised an eyebrow. "and how did that go? was he talking about himself the entire time?"

"no!" you said. but then you paused, realizing that getting defensive would just look suspicious. "he told me a lot about how he doesn't like mulled wine and loves corn mazes despite being absolutely shitty at them. he loves his friends and hockey, obviously. he refuses to let anyone pay for anything while you're with him because he has money and likes to treat people. and he sticks up for the people that are important to him. and once you're in with him, you don't have to worry about your place in his life or how important you are because he will keep reminding you."

alexa stared at you. "are you sure you don't want to go out with him?"

you guffawed and hoped that it covered up your embarrassment. "what? no! he's clearly into you, and i think you should go for it."

"give me one good reason why."

"because he's kind, and nothing like your ex. he cares, legitimately cares about people and their lives." you sighed, not sure if you were convincing her. “it’s just one date, lex. if you don’t like him at least you got a free meal.”

alexa chewed her lip, letting you anguish in silence. "fine. you can give him my number and we'll set up a date. i trust you."

"fantastic!" you were already pulling your phone out. "he'll be so excited--"

"only if you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't have feelings for him."

you opened and closed your mouth. "i don't have feelings for him," you said with as much confidence as you could.

"honey..."

"no! i don't! if i had feelings for him, would i be going out to dinner with his best friend on friday?"

alexa didn't look fully convinced, but your date with tito was a welcomed distraction as she started rattling off questions about what you would wear and where he was taking you.

alexa left two hours later, meaning you could go to bed at a reasonable hour. as you laid in bed, you grabbed your phone and opened mat's contact, drafting a text to him.

here's alexa's number. managed to convince her you were worth a shot. xxx-xxx-xxxx.

you locked your phone and put it on do not disturb before you could see his response.

when you woke up the next morning, you saw mat had simply liked the message and left it at that.

by noon, alexa texted you that her date with mat was on saturday.

step 5: let the dates begin

friday came faster than you were anticipating. you kept your distance from mat, unable to look at him without thinking about how he was taking your friend out the very next day and that your interactions from that point on would probably be through alexa.

tyler kept his distance, must've been the threat of going to HR (that you still hadn't gone through with) that had him treating you like a human being with feelings.

as for tito, you probably should've been more excited for your date that night, but all you could focus on was how mat and alexa would fall in love and get married and have beautiful babies and grow old together.

and you would be the sucker who set them up because you could never tell mat no.

a slam against the boards startled you enough to look up from your camera to see tito standing there with a smile on his face.

"you okay?" he asked over the sounds of his teammates on the ice.

you gave him what you hoped was a convincing smile and nodded. but he rolled his eyes.

"we'll talk later," he said before skating away. you smiled and waved at him before you made eye contact with mat who was clenching his jaw. at what? you weren't sure. you even turned around to see if tyler had entered the arena, but you were standing alone.

like you always were.

you were headed back to your desk to do some editing as practice let out, but your name was called before you could get away.

when you looked over your shoulder, you saw tito doing an awkward half jog half walk towards you with a tired grin on his face. "hey," he said. "how do you think practice went?"

you turned to face him fully. "you're asking me? a professional asking some photographer how practice went?"

tito rolled his eyes. "oh c'mon. you've seen our practices, by now you should be able to determine whether or not it was a good one."

"well, no one fought each other, so i guess that's a win."

tito shook his head. "nah, that's when the best practices happen. when everyone's pissed at each other."

you smiled. "shows what i know."

"i think you know more than you think. you've worked here for awhile now."

"i've just gotten better at motion capture photography and following the puck around the ice. doesn't mean i know shit about hockey."

"don't think we don't notice you getting riled up during games when calls are missed."

you tilted your head and furrowed your brows. "we?"

tito shrugged and laughed to himself. "mat usually points it out before i can." you must've made a face because he added more. "it's usually on the bench, he's focused on the game when he's playing."

the both of you turn your heads at the other players walking down the tunnel. when the both of you caught sight of mat, tito smiled.

"will you send me your address? so i can pick you up?"

your attention snapped back to tito. "yeah! of course!"

he nodded and started his walk towards the locker rooms right when mat walked up to you. "what was that about?" he asked.

you shrugged. "just going over details for tonight. he needs my address to pick me up."

mat clenched his jaw again and looked down the tunnel, nodding his head. "that's tonight?"

"yep. at 6:30."

he wouldn't meet your eyes. instead, he looked at your shoes, your camera, the hallway, his teammates, but would never look at your face.

"you and alexa go out tomorrow, right? where are you taking her?"

he ran a hand through his hair and nodded at anders as he passed by. "yeah, we're going out to this sushi place. did you ever talk to HR?"

"well no but--"

"do i need to talk to HR?"

"he really hasn't been that bad lately--"

"because i threatened to tell HR on his ass. he's gonna get comfortable and start insulting you again. it's just a matter of time."

you nodded, feeling a lump in your throat form at the idea of mat scolding you, in front of his teammates no less.

mat sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. "i'm not trying to fuss or tell you what to do, i just don't like seeing you treated like that."

"thanks, mat," you mumbled.

he still wouldn't meet your eyes, instead looking down the hallway to see most of his team in the locker room. "i gotta go, but um, good luck tonight. beau's a good guy."

with that he turned on his skates and walked away.

you felt every bit of pathetic as you watched him go.

that night, you settled on a pretty dress that wasn't too fancy, seeing as the only details tito had given you were that it was nicer than an olive garden but not a michelin star restaurant. you were strapping yourself into your heels when you heard a knock on the door.

your phone said it was only 6:15, but maybe tito was accounting for traffic. he never did specify when the reservation was.

"coming!" you called as you put your last heel on and made your way to the door. "i wasn't expecting you this early, you never told me when the reservation was--" your voice trailed off when you opened the door and saw who was standing on the other side.

mat.

he looked more disheveled than you'd ever seen him. it was clear he'd been running his hands through his hair repeatedly just by the strands sticking out every which way.

he still looked handsome.

"mat, what're you--"

"i think you're beautiful. and smart. and passionate about a lot of things. and i think anyone who tells you otherwise is an idiot, and i'd fight them if you'd let me." your eyes started welling up with tears. "i think you're perfect for me and if you'd let me take you out, i promise i'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

you blinked until the tears disappeared by sheer willpower, not willing to cry in front of him. "that's perfect," you said. "say that to lex and she'll be eating out of the palm of your hand."

you turned around to grab your bag and coat before you could see mat's face drop in confusion. by the time you turned back around, anthony was standing next to his best friend.

"you ready?" he asked, only glancing at mat out of the side of his eye.

you nodded and squeezed mat's arm as you passed; you couldn't help yourself. "get home safe, mat."

neither you or tito spoke until you got into his car. "what was that about?" he asked.

you shrugged. still not fully comprehending why mat showed up at your door in the first place. "he was telling me what he was gonna tell lex tomorrow, i think."

"really." he didn't sound convinced.

"why else would he show up?"

tito mumbled. "i can think of a few reasons."

after he parked the car, tito got out and opened the door for you while you were answering texts from alexa. he offered you a hand to get out that you took.

there were no sparks, no electric sensations going up your arm. just physical contact, just the warmth of his palm in yours.

he led you into the restaurant which was moderately fancy, like he said. the two of you were escorted back to a table in the corner, away from windows and therefore away from prying eyes.

like a gentleman, he pulled your chair out and helped you scooch up to the table.

"i can't remember if i told you this, but you look lovely," he said with a smile.

"thanks," you replied. "you look handsome." and you meant it. if you weren't in love with his best friend, in another life, you could see yourself falling for his blue eyes. and maybe you still could. mat was going on a date with your friend tomorrow so it was better that you just get over him already and--

"so how long have you been in love with mat?"

you choked on your own spit, and for a minute, tito looked apologetic. for his timing, you had to guess, not the question itself.

surely you heard him wrong.

"what?" you asked when you finally got your bearings.

"how long have you loved him?"

nope. you heard him correctly.

"i--"

he leaned forward, arms braced on the table. "you don't have to lie to me, i know. i've known for awhile."

"i--"

but the server came up and asked for drink orders. tito ordered a bottle of red for the table after asking for your thoughts.

you were still reeling from his question, safe to say you didn't have any thoughts.

"sorry," tito started. "i didn't mean to make you feel cornered, i just wanted to be honest."

"it doesn't look like you're the only who needs to be honest, it's me." you fiddled with the ends of your dress.

"why'd you do it? why'd you help set mat up with your friend?"

you shrugged. "i just wanted to see him happy. and i wanted alexa to find a good guy, i knew mat was one. they make sense together."

"even if it makes you unhappy."

"even if it makes me unhappy."

tito nodded, and looked at you like he could see something you couldn't. "let's forget about him for now and just enjoy dinner, eh?"

you gave him your best smile and nodded.

the rest of the night flew by. soon enough, tito was walking you up to your apartment and kissing your cheek before he left. you wished you felt butterflies, or something, but there was no special sensation. nothing to make you weak in the knees.

it was like a kiss from an old friend.

your phone buzzed with a text from alexa.

alexa: how'd your date go?

you typed out a quick response.

it was good. just got home.

you locked your phone and placed it on your nightstand before collapsing into bed. but your phone buzzed again. you thought about ignoring it, but if it was alexa, you didn't want her to think you were upset at her.

mat barzal: did you have fun?

you blinked before typing back.

yeah. tito's great.

not a second later, you got another text.

mat barzal: good. have a good night.

you fell back against your pillows and cursed at the ceiling.

step 6: let them fall in love

you woke up the next morning and stayed in bed until your bladder was about to burst. after the date with tito and the reminder that mat was going out with alexa tonight, it was all enough to put you back in bed as soon as you peed.

and you stayed there, flicking through netflix shows and wallowing in self pity. you usually weren't this pathetic, but the idea of alexa and mat getting cozy on their date that night was enough to warrant your sadness.

you'd pull yourself together by monday when you'd have to go back to work and see how happy she made him.

that's what you kept telling yourself, that at the very least, two of your friends would be happy.

by 7pm, you were sitting on the couch, waiting for takeout to arrive.

when a knock on the door signified your food arrived, you got up with your blanket burrito and walked to the door. you didn't even bother checking before yanking the door open and looking down at your doormat.

only to see a pair of shoes.

"what the hell," you mumbled. "i thought i said leave at the door...' your voice trailed off as your eyes lifted to meet a pair of hazel.

mat barzal.

he had your food in one hand while the other was in his pocket.

"mat?" you whispered. suddenly, you were throwing the blankets off your shoulders and behind you into your apartment where they'd be out of sight.

though it was then you realized you were in sweats and you hadn't done anything with your hair all day so you were probably better off with the blanket burrito instead.

"hi," he breathed. "here's your food." he handed it over, nodding when you murmured your thanks, and shoved his other hand through his hair.

you glanced at the time on the clock on your wall to make sure you weren't hallucinating. "why're you here, mat? shouldn't you be with alexa?"

"that's what i wanted to talk to you about, actually."

"oh no," you started panicking, your eyes widened. "did she not show up?" you turned back into your apartment and went to your phone, searching for texts from alexa to explain her absence. "i swear i thought she'd show. she told me she would and she's usually a woman of her word."

you turned around when your front door shut with mat standing in the middle of your living room, looking out of place and right at home somehow.

your phone was vacant of any text messages from alexa.

"no, she showed. i left early."

that caught your attention.

you set your food on the coffee table and turned around to face him.

"why did you leave early? was she rude? are you sick?"

mat shook his head. "no, i'm fine, she was fine. that's not why i'm here. i mean it is but that's--that's--i want, no i need to tell you something."

"tell me what?"

he rolled his eyes. "i'm getting to that." he started pacing your very small living room. you wondered if he knew how much space he took up in your apartment. you wondered if he cared how messy your place was. "i'm just gonna come right out and say it, and don't interrupt me this time." you nodded.

mat ran both hands through his hair for the twentieth time since he showed up. "when i said all those things last night, i wasn't talking about alexa. i was talking about you."

what.

but he continued.

"i'm not gonna pretend i've loved you this whole time, but i fell in love with you along the way. the way you kept analyzing every fucking pumpkin for the perfect one, or how you bring red wine to dinner unprompted because you can't not contribute to something, or the way you trusted me enough to take you on the ice and show you something i love, or how you laugh like no one has ever said something mean to you in your life even when i know that jackass tyler harasses you on the daily. you're kind to literally every person i've ever seen you interact with.

"but i hate the way you shrink yourself like you're afraid to take up space. i hate the way you act like alexa's better than you, like i couldn't fall in love with you when you're literally the most generous, kindest, passionate, and beautiful person i've ever met in my life. because i do love you. every fiber of my being loves you."

you blinked once. twice. and breathed.

"what?" you whispered as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

"i know you just went out with tito last night, and if you like him, if you love him, i get it. he's a great guy and you'd be great together. but i'm asking you to give me a chance, give us a chance. i've had fun with you the last few weeks and i cannot bear the thought of not calling you mine any longer." his chest was heaving as the words rushed out of his mouth.

you rounded the coffee table to get to him. as soon as you were in arms' reach, mat was pulling you to him. with your hips pressed together, your lips just a breath away, you spoke softly.

"please tell me this isn't a dream."

a small laugh escaped his lips and echoed over your own. "it's not a dream, baby. this is real. i love you so fucking much."

"i love you too, mat."

any words you had left to say were lost as he brought your mouths together.

you weren't sure how much time had passed before you separated from him with your hands pressed on his chest. mat tried to follow your lips, but you kept a firm hand on his sternum so you could speak.

"what about alexa?"

mat pulled back. "what about her?"

"you were on a date with her and just left her there?"

"i more than covered the tab if that's what you're afraid of--"

"what if she hates me?"

he laughed. like threw his head back and laughed before kissing you again. "baby, we were there for fifteen minutes and all i could talk about was you. she told me to come here and tell you the truth."

you smiled. "thank god for alexa."

"thank god for alexa."

mat led the two of you over to the couch where you immediately curled into him. he kissed the top of your head, seemingly addicted to having his lips on your body at all times. "you're fired, you know."

you would've pulled away had mat's grip allowed it. "what? fired from what?"

"the wing woman business. you're absolutely horrible at it."

"yeah, well i think it worked out pretty well."

he pressed his lips into your hair and mumbled. "yeah, i think so too."

[sc0tters]

Out of It | Mat Barzal

summary: as your relationship with Tito finally hits a breaking point, what happens when Mat is there to pick up your pieces?

request: yes/no

warnings: cheating, failed relationship, drinking, allusions to sex, swearing.

word count: 3.2k

authors note: Kei said I could use the chaotic ending so I did, probably means we’re gonna have to have a part 2 (let me know if you want it). Request said something sad for Tito but happy for Mat and this is what my mind came up with. I actually enjoyed writing this one a lot so I hope you all enjoy reading it! But also don’t cheat on your partners, that’s very fucked up!

part two | part three

Things hadn’t been good for months.

When Anthony was first traded to the Canucks your boyfriend of three years always just assumed that you would join him. But you didn’t, your entire working career was spent in New York building up the your name and you weren’t ready to leave it for some city in Vancouver without the guarantee of a job waiting for you.

That seemed to be the first sign that things were changing as the boy took it as you not loving him.

Tito slammed his hands against your kitchen counter “do you ever support me in this move?” The man groaned in frustration making you taken aback by his outburst.

The accusation hurt you “of course I do.” You yelled back making his irritated tone “the fact that you think I’m gonna pack my life up at the drop of a hat makes me question how you feel about me though.” You crossed your arms sending him a glare.

This argument had gone on for the last fifteen minutes and there was still no clear sign of the end of this argument “look I can’t live in Vancouver but I can split my time between the two cities.” You offered growing tired of the way this was continuing to drag on.

But Anthony didn’t like that offer, in fact that almost felt worse than you just staying in New York “don’t bother.” He sighed pushing past you.

The hockey player moved towards the door “where are you going?” You croaked feeling your throat grow tight “I’ll spend the night with Mat.” Anthony sighed grabbing his shoes from the rack.

Your feet pulled you to the door “we don’t go to bed angry,” you reminded him “you promise.” Tears began rolling down your cheeks as you felt like you were loosing the love of your life “I’ll be back in the morning.” The boy mumbled kissing your forehead.

His lips left their print on your skin before he walked out of the apartment leaving you alone.

You two never actually spoke about that argument again, instead just choosing to ignore the fact that for the first time since you two moved in together Anthony didn’t sleep at home when he was in New York.

It felt like it was meant to be the one anomaly in your relationship or at least until February hit. Valentine’s Day you were meant to be in Vancouver with flights booked and everything but when a last minute meeting came up you had to pull out. Much to the annoyance of Anthony though.

Thinking you were doing the right thing you told him to go enjoy the dinner reservations he made. But after your long day of work when you came home the last thing you expected to see was the rumour mill that twitter made talking about how Anthony had a new girlfriend.

She was taller than you and looked like a blonde supermodel. Through frustration you grumbled something to yourself before you dialled in your boyfriends number “hey y/n!” Anthony was always good about picking up on the first or second ring “yeah I’ll be done in a sec,” he added clearly talking to someone on his side of the call.

You never liked admitting that you felt insecure in your relationship, but how could you not when you were with some hotshot hockey player? It also wasn’t helped by the fact that he lived 3 hours behind you and in a different country “don’t tell me she’s there,” you choked on the words as tears formed in your eyes.

Anthony clicked his tongue hearing the soft whimper you let out “who baby?” His nickname always had you melting into his hand but now you felt repulsed by it “that girl-“ your eyebrows knitted together as you thought the boy was playing tricks on you acting all oblivious.

The hockey player cut you off “told you that Twitter isn’t good for you.” His reminder felt condescending as you sat down feeing like you were having his lecture in person “why are they all talking about it?” Your voice was soft as you wiped your cheek with the back of your hand to clean the tears away from you.

He almost forgot he was on the phone to you as he stared at the girl who was on his couch pointing at her watch to signal that they were late “when she realised that we both had no plans tonight I said she should come with me.” Tito explained leaving you silent as he wasn’t denying that he spent the night with this bombshell of a girl “she’s just a friend though baby you got nothing to worry about.” Somehow his attempt to comfort you only made your nerves stick out more.

You tried to formulate a coherent sentence as you felt stupid for getting all upset “look I’ve got a few days off next week, why don’t I come see you?” He proposed causing that stupid love drunk smile to form on your face “I’d like that a lot.” You nodded missing your boyfriend now more than ever.

From the moment he arrived in New York you two could feel that something was different. As you invited some of his favourite old teammates over for dinner you felt relieved that you weren’t having to spend the night alone with him.

But of course that sense of peace had to be disturbed “baby why don’t you leave those for the morning?” You asked seeing Anthony’s back towards you as you entered the kitchen.

If there was one thing that usually fixed your problems it was sex. Sure that sounded stupid and like you were both teenagers, but as a couple your favourite way to end even the smallest of fights as with sex.

Which is why you thought it was the fix this problem needed “I want to wake up to a clean kitchen.” The Canadian always felt this rewarding feeling whenever he got to see an empty set of sinks in the morning.

You decided to try a little harder as you walked over to him “think I’ve got something a little more fun for you to do before that though.” You mumbled letting your hands slide up the front of his shirt.

That only seemed to piss him off “Jesus y/n let me finish the fucking-” the moment he began lashing out you stepped back keeping your lips shut until he spun around to look at you.

It didn’t take his eyes long to make their way down your body as you tied the string around your robe up clearly deciding that it wasn’t right for tonight “oh,” Anthony’s voice was soft as he realised that you were wearing his favourite lingerie.

The set was something you bought when he was on a long road trip once and you sent him pictures of each set you tried on in the store and when he picked the blue set you went to the airport to pick him up in a coat with nothing on underneath besides for that new set “forget it.” You rolled your eyes now feeling embarrassed as you turned around heading back to your bedroom where you sat on your bed for fifteen minutes waiting for him to come after you.

But he never did and you felt like an idiot.

April came around and you were now onto month four of feeling like something was wrong but you never felt confident enough to talk to Anthony about it so instead you let your relationship get to the worst it had ever been. Excuses were made each time one of you was meant to see the other and as the time between phone calls grew, the amount of fight you put up to see the other person decreased.

Tonight you were going out with some of the guys from the Islanders team. Mat invited you along as they were celebrating their place in the playoff “I know they are your friends.” You rolled your eyes at the phone call as Anthony couldn’t understand how his best friend invited you along.

It was somewhat amusing because Mat was the one who introduced you to your boyfriend “I’m going to support the boys okay?” You heard a knock at the door making you open it.

A smile formed on your face seeing older Canadian as you ushered him inside motioning to him to keep quiet as you were on the phone “yes I’ll let you know when I’m home.” It sounded like you were talking to a parent rather than your boyfriend.

Mat made himself comfortable on your couch as his spread his legs leaning into the soft fabric “I’m going to go now.” And with that you hung up. It irritated you how the first time he called you in over a month was because one of his old teammates mentioned that he was seeing you tonight “you okay kid?” Mat asked furrowing his eyebrows.

Despite the fact that there was only a two year age gap between you both when he met you, you were a freshman in college in your Maple Leafs jersey as you willingly spent your morning in a cafe arguing with the Islander player about how the Canadian team was better. Mat would never admit this to you or Anthony but he thought you were hot, that’s why he invited you to the game when the Maple Leafs came to visit. Why he scored a goal and pointed right up to the box where you sat, but even more so why he scored three goals. But no matter how hard Mat tried to impress you, it was no match against Anthony’s soft smile that he sent you making you weak in the knees.

You sighed sitting next to him “Tito is mad at me again.” You mumbled fiddling with the bracelet that the older boy gave you for your twenty first, the piece of jewellery that you now never take off.

Mat slipped his hand onto your knee giving it a squeeze “don’t worry about him.” The Canadian wanted to act like his crush on you had diminished over the years but when you called him in tears because you realised that you were drowning your sorrows in too much Chinese food for one person to ear during Anthony’s first night in Vancouver. The speed Mat drove across the city going through each red light told him otherwise.

Having him around always comforted you “think I just need to let loose tonight.” You mumbled running your hand through your hair pushing it back unintentionally revealing your collar bones that were highlighted by the low cut of your dress “finally give you a reason to keep up with me.” Mat always drank faster than you as you wrote it down to his lack of a college career where he never got the chance to grow out of it.

You rolled your eyes letting out a laugh “think you’ll be keeping up with me tonight.” You mumbled looking down at your phone to see the time “we’re late,” you groaned quickly getting up. Mat followed your actions with a smile “only means we have to make up for the lost time.” He pointed out making you laugh.

Oh how pretty that sound was.

The bar was packed full of players and their partners with you being the only plus one without a romantic connection to the team. You had practically drunk your way through the bar as the wags believed that you were making up for lost time after you turned down each of their offers to join them on girls night since Anthony left. It was stupid sure, but you always felt out of place when you were with them, so you thought that you’d feel worse without your boyfriend there.

But instead you surprisingly felt like you fitted in as Mat’s arm snaked around your waist “you want another one?” He asked motioning to your empty glass.

The girls had smirks on their faces as they watched your cheeks turn pink feeling his breath on your neck “I’ll come!” You blurted out making them bite the inside of their cheeks to hold in the giggles.

Whilst everyone thought you would marry Anthony, it made all of the girls happy to see you smile and until you or Mat did anything that crossed a line. They didn’t see the point in telling Anthony that his friend was taking care of his girlfriend.

Because to them everything that Mat and you did was friendly, the touches, the smiles, the looks. But what none of them knew was how each of your heart rates increased at the mere thought of the other. Mat locked his hand into yours as he pulled you through the crowd “two refills please.” He asked the bartender with his signature smile.

When the hockey player turned to you he realised you had been staring “what are you thinking about kid?” Mat’s voice was soft as he sat you in the barstool in front of him “how bad would it be if we left?” You cocked your head staring at his Hazel orbs that seemed to be locked into your soul.

Your question made Mat laugh “you had enough?” He frowned wanting to have more of your company for longer. You were quick to shake your head “no of course not,” your cheeks turned pink as you panicked “I just want ice cream and some vodka right now.” The pairing was weird but it seemed to be the only thing going through your mind “well it’s a good thing that I have both of those in my apartment then isn’t it?” His comment made your eyes light up with excitement.

Without thinking he held his hand out to you “they’re all so drunk I don’t think they’ll notice us leave.” Mat mumbled causing you to nod as he pulled you out of the bar somehow without anyone noticing.

During the drive back to his you remained fairly quiet as the Uber driver continued to talk to Mat about what it was like being a hockey player “I’m telling you I think he loves you.” You got the words out between your fit of giggles.

Mat groaned shaking his head “was nervous to have such a pretty girl in his car.” The boy shot back shoving his spoon back into the Häagen-Dazs ice cream container as he ignored the workout he was going to have to do tomorrow.

His compliment made your stomach do flips “think he’d be more affected by you,” you shook your head taking a sip of the expensive vodka that he had given you to drink “if he was gay-“ before you could swallow you let out a laugh resulting in a cough from you.

The hockey player grew alarmed watching your face turn red “you okay?” All you could do was nod until your throat calmed down “you care about me.” You teased rubbing your elbow with his as you smiled.

As much as Mat tried to ignore how he felt about you it was no longer working “of course I do.” The Canadian wanted to scoff that you would ever even consider to think that he didn’t.

But what he didn’t expect as your eyes locked with his was that you would lean forward to kiss him. At first Mat melted into the kiss as this was something he always wanted but as you moved to his lap he was reminded of the fact that you weren’t his “what about Tito?” Mat gasped forcing himself to feel guilty about the situation. Your lips formed a frown “he doesn’t love me anymore Mat,” you shook your head as tears formed in your eyes “and I don’t love him.” It was the first time you had ever actually said that out loud.

Yet it was all true, the fire that was once burning underneath your relationship turned to an occasional spark that had gone into hiding for the last few months. Mat stared at your soft facial expression “why don’t you leave him?” He asked furrowing his brows “don’t want to be alone.” Your confession made you seem week.

Truthfully though you had grown used to Anthony’s company and you were scared to see if you could survive without a boyfriend in your life “you aren’t alone.” Mat sighed tracing his finger along your jaw letting his thumb settle on your lip.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking but if he showed you that he was here for you then maybe you’d leave Anthony for good “prove it to me then baby.” You pushed your lips back into his as the boy walked the two of you to his room letting your body hit his mattress.

Mat was finally going to have his way with you.

The next morning.

You let out a groan as you heard a loud knock at the door “baby go get it,” you grumbled wanting to go back to sleep “fine.” Hearing Mats voice from beside you had the events of last night quickly falling back into your head.

Somehow though the boy seemed calmer about it all as he sent you a smile “could get used to this.” You were wearing one of his old Islanders shirts, the first time you were wearing a piece of merch from the team that wasn’t from Anthony.

It reminded you of the fact that you still had a boyfriend but here you were in his best friends bed covered in hickies whilst he was covered in scratches “you should answer the door.” You pushed your hair out of your face as you began to feel sick. You weren’t upset about last night, you loved the reminder of feeling what it was like to be loved.

To put it simply you felt bad that you had done it to a guy like Anthony, your mother raised you better than that “I’ll send them on their way and then we can talk about last night.” Mat wasn’t an idiot, he could see that you weren’t thinking about Anthony by the way you stared at the promise ring on your finger that he gave you when he came back in February.

It only took you two months to go ahead and fuck that one up “okay,” you nodded biting the inside of your cheek as you struggled to comprehend how you would talk to Anthony after this.

Your stomach did flips as you stared at yourself in Mats bedroom mirror. In that moment you felt like a horrible person and there was honestly no denying that you were one. Your precious Anthony would never cross a line like the one that you had and you only hoped that you had enough time to fix it before everything was thrown back in your face “what took you so long dude?”

That voice sent a chill down your spine as your eyes went wide with any desire of wanting extra sleep quickly being thrown out of the window.

What the fuck was Anthony doing at Mat’s door?

[itsjusthockey]

Playdate - Mat Barzal

This man does things to me

Warning: NSFW (first time ever, hope it doesn't suck)

wc: 2,513 (credit to gif maker)

Feed me. Send in requests and give thoughts

You know from across the room he isn’t a good person. Someone who looks like that can’t be. His appearance alone seems to broadcast this verdict, a beguiling countenance that you can't help but be captivated by its enigmatic allure.

He’s gorgeous. So naturally, you’re curious about him. His casual demeanor exudes an air of confidence. He’s got that suave disposition, enhanced by a sexy half-smirk and eyes that hold an almost magnetic quality as if they could sway your every inclination.

You want to get close to him, to scrutinize those eyes up close and determine whether their impact would be enough to unravel your very foundation. And as fate would have it, a twist of coincidence steers your group toward the bar, positioning you conveniently beside his presence. Amidst the bustling crowd, circumstances bring you into proximity, placing you so close that his back is stiff against yours. The occasional accidental contact sends electric thrills coursing through you.

“What’re you gonna get?”

Your best friend's question solicits your attention and guides your gaze toward the bartender standing at your side. Your patient contemplation coincides with the bartender taking the giant order from the men beside you.

“Can we get six of these,” the near god of a man next to you holds up a beer, “and three shots of whiskey.”

The bartender nods and starts making the drinks, and in a moment of calculated daring, you decide to orchestrate your first move of the evening. A faint, deliberate graze of your fingertips against his arm is executed with finesse. Then your sudden withdrawal from the contact is masked by an apologetic smile and a sweet “I’m sorry” that dons in the air with charming modesty.

Of course, the gesture sparks his attention, prompting him to focus entirely on you. The impact is staggering – he manages to nearly take your breath away. He is almost unfairly attractive, and it elicits a sense of disbelief, as though it shouldn’t be possible.

“Don’t worry about it,” His gaze sweeps over you in a way that is far from subtle, leaving a trail of appreciation in its wake. A beckoning hand extends toward you. "I'm Mat.”

You shake the outstretched hand and lean a little closer to him. “Hi Matt, I’m (Y/N).”

With another lingering look at you and a glance at your friends behind you, a sly smile and a glint of mischief cross his features.

"What's your poison?" he inquires, the question laden with suggestion. You also don’t miss when he subtly elbows his friend behind him.

“What do you suggest?” You bat your lashes.

He lets out a light chuckle and throws out a couple of options, and after a minute of weighing the possibilities, you decide. Seconds later, the bartender returns with their order, and Mat orders the rest of the drinks, handing over a black card that catches your attention.

“Amex, really?”

He signs for the drinks and sends you a slightly shy smile. The night progresses, and the connection between you and Mat deepens, fueled by laughter and electric tension that hangs in the air. The playful touches exchanged become bolder, and every time he gives you those eyes, your stomach turns.

He also reveals he plays hockey, and you can't help but be captivated by the mental image of him in a jersey, his body glistening with sweat. The room grows warmer as your thoughts stray to uncharted and impure territories.

In a moment of playful curiosity, you ask, "So, are you any good?"

Mat's response is nonchalant, accompanied by a modest shrug. "I'm alright."

However, his friend Tito scoffs and chimes in, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "He's more than alright, he's fucking fantastic."

You can't help but raise an amused eyebrow, your gaze flickering between Tito and Mat. The camaraderie between the two friends is evident, and Mat's blush only adds to the charm.

“I mean, clearly, he’s a little bit interested because normally, he’s the most cocky dude I’ve ever met. You’ve got him being all modest and shit.”

Mat rolls his eyes far back.

“And I’m also sure that he really wants to show you his moves, he’s got great stamina and a fantastic-“

“Okay, Tito,” Mat almost panics, sending his friend a semi-glare and shooing him away.

Tito puts his hands up in mock surrender, winking at you and clinking glasses with yours and then moving to talk with your friend behind you.

You continue to talk with Mat for a while when you both realize that the bar's atmosphere is beginning to ebb, and you’re feeling about ready to leave. Yet, you’re unsure if you want to go alone, and your gaze meets Mat's with an unspoken question.

"I should probably get going.“

“Yeah,” he pauses. “Want company?”

You nod frantically and beeline to the exit, Mat trailing behind you. You leave the bar and enter the open air, making your way toward your apartment.

When you arrive, you’re quick to fumble out your keys, and you can feel Mats's burning stare. Once you unlock the door, you rush inside. Mat follows in, briefly looks around, and then locks his eyes on yours. You see his gaze flick down to your lips, and you can feel the silent invitation.

You both pause momentarily, almost unsure what to do, when Mat closes the distance between you. He pushes you gently into the door, and your lips meet for the first time. As soon as his lips mold into yours, it ignites the passion you've both been skirting around all evening.

With each passing second, you want more, and the intensity deepens, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. Mat responds eagerly, his arms encircling your waist, pulling you closer. The soft press of his body against yours only fuels the growing need that courses through you both.

You stay by the door for a minute longer until the heat between you becomes unbearable. You feel Mat's hand slide up your shirt and on your back, sending shivers down your spine.

You genuinely feel like you’re about to die, so you pull away, breathing heavily and locking eyes with Mat, whose hues have grown darker.

Mat speaks first, “Bedroom?”

The immediate answer should be yes, but you’re not the type to have a one-night stand. Yet, as if you’re on autopilot, you nod and lead him toward your room.

Once inside, Mat doesn’t waste any time. He grabs your hips, tugging you into him. He’s not gentle; he knows what he wants to happen, but his fingers are soft as he gently squeezes your sides.

You continue to mold together, his hands gliding up your back until he cups the back of your neck.

“Are you sure?”

You nod fervently, deciding against any logic. He smiles again and begins nipping on your neck. This feeling makes you putty in his hands. You’re almost positive he can feel the gulp you swallow, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to the spot you love.

He continues the assault on your neck, and you whimper out, which only seems to spur him on. He’s quick to unzip your top as you find yourself unlatching his belt. You hear it come loose, and a smirk takes over his face when you grab the zipper and pull it down.

In one bold move, you place your hand in his pants, and Mat moans against your lips, forcing your head to tilt back so that he can kiss you even harder.

You gently squeeze him outside his boxer briefs, and you note that he is already hard, and you can't help but let your ego go a bit. But you refuse to waste time, so you slide your hand past the elastic waistband of his underwear and grab hold of him.

“Holy fuck.” He swears.

You concentrate and watch Mat's face as you gently grab him at the base and his breath shallows. You trail your thumb along his length to gauge his reaction before slowly sliding your hand up and down.

After a few pumps, Mat places one hand beside his head, palm flat against the wall, to support himself. In his other hand, he’s digging into your hips, surely leaving bruises.

"Feel good?" You ask, brushing your lips against his earlobe.

His head drops to your shoulder as you continue to pump him at a steady pace, and you can feel him nodding into your neck. You love that you have him like this, at your whim. But it doesn’t last long when he manages to find the strength to pause his breathy curses to whisper in your ear, "I can’t wait any longer.”

At record speed, you both discard the rest of your clothing, and he practically throws you onto your bed. In a swift motion, his chest is pressed flat against your back, and he snakes around your hips, feeling to see if you’re ready for him as he is ready for you.

“Fuck, baby.” Mat moans, gently kissing your shoulder as he slides a finger inside you.

He works his way a few times, curling inside you while his thumb presses against your clit. You almost feel it’s getting too much when he removes his fingers and frantically searches for his jeans.

You watch, somewhat impatient, as he digs for his wallet, opens it, and finally pulls out a condom.

As if he never left, he pulls you forward, hungrily kissing you before gripping your ass. With your arms around his neck, you smile as you feel his hardness between you. He quickly hooks one of his strong arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest as he slowly places you down on the mattress.

“Ready?" he asks huskily with his forehead pressed against yours.

You nod, breath spent as you feel him against your thigh, "Yes."

Finally, after hours of anticipation, he guides himself inside of you, crawling up your torso as he pushes in inch by inch. Your eyes instinctively close, your jaw drops at the sensation of feeling this close to him, and you release a satisfied hum.

You feel Mat's breath on your cheek as he grabs your hip with one hand, steadying you before pulling out almost all the way. You want to groan at the loss of contact, but your breath is stolen when he slams back in.

“Holy shit," you breathe out, almost not believing a man could make you feel this way. “It’s so good.”

With your praise, the amusement in his eyes vanishes as he lets out deep breaths through his nostrils. He adopts a steady rhythm, neither too fast nor too slow, but the force he thrusts into you has you quickly feeling like you are going over the edge.

You dig your nails into his back, and when he spreads your legs even wider, the sensation he makes you feel becomes even more intense. You bite the inside of your cheek, but you can’t help but beg him for more.

“There we go,” Mat says through broken breaths, not flinching when your nails scratch his back. “Are you close?"

Whimpering, you nod, and Mat grasps your hips and practically lifts them off the bed for each hard thrust. You are barely able to see straight and feel entirely out of control. You feel on fire, and there is absolutely nothing you can do to hold onto the feeling of how he feels buried inside of you.

You were gone when you could no longer assist in the thrusting and were left disorientated with slow breaths. Mat follows suit, speeding up his pace, driving himself into a state of bliss shortly after, and collapses on top of you.

The room seems to pulse with the echoes of your shared passion as you both catch your breath, locked in an intimate embrace. For a moment, time seems to stand still, and the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you intertwined in the aftermath.

As your breathing begins to steady, Mat shifts, his weight shifting off you and onto the bed beside you. He rolls onto his back, his chest heaving as he gazes at the ceiling. You turn your head to the side, your eyes meeting his, and a smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

Mat reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. There's a quiet tenderness in his gaze, a vulnerability you hadn't expected, but as soon as you see it, it’s gone.

After a moment, Mat clears his throat, "That was... incredible."

A surge of emotion wells up within you, and you can't help but agree. "Yeah, it was."

For a minute longer, you both lie in silence, the heaviness of the moment hanging in the air. But eventually, Mat shifts again, sitting up on the edge of the bed. You watch as he starts to gather his clothes, and a pang of uncertainty hits you. The reality of the situation dawns on you.

As Mat dresses, you sit up, wrapping the sheets around yourself. Your heart races, a mix of desire and apprehension swirling within you. You want to say something, to reach out and ask him to stay, but the words stick in your throat.

Finally dressed, Mat turns to you, his expression unreadable. He steps closer, his fingers brushing against your cheek again, but this time, the touch feels different. It almost seems like a touch of farewell, of a shared moment that won’t ever happen again.

“Hey," he says softly, his eyes searching yours. "That was fucking amazing, but I have to go find Tito.”

You manage a small smile, though your heart aches at the thought of him leaving. Yet, you nod and watch as he goes. Leaving as quickly as he entered your life. You hear the door click shut behind him, and a small piece of your heart cracks.

You're suddenly overwhelmed with a mix of emotions as Mat walks out of your apartment. You know you felt something, the intensity of your encounter lingering, but now there's a bitter aftertaste.

Sitting alone in your sheets, slight anger replaces the immediate loneliness. How could he just leave? And how could you be so stupid to think he’d stay?

You spend the next hour cleaning up and thinking way too much. Half of you want to forget this ever happened, but the other half desires revenge. You want to prove that you're not someone to be brushed aside so easily. Your mind races for the rest of the night. Plotting on how you can turn the tables and make him feel the same longing and frustration he left you with.

[offside-the-lines]

tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 8. Summer

This is a completed series! Read Full Fic | 🧸 Series Cover Page/Masterlist 🧁 | 🎵 Playlist 🎶 << Previous Episode || Ep 8 || Next Episode >>

Chapter Summary: They try to get on with their summers as if nothing is wrong, convincing no one. How long will it take them to realize they can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine? And who will finally take the leap of faith?

A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits. This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.

Word count: 4.8k // 44.5k

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III. Summer

Evie — April 24

Evie drops her head back against the cold ceramic of her bathtub. She had wished when she had first gotten in that the scalding hot water would loosen the knot in her chest. So far, it isn’t working, and the water's already lukewarm.

Evie had given herself the rest of the 21st to mope in her apartment. She put her phone on silent, sat in front of her TV watching old Disney movies, and ate so much ice cream and pizza she felt sick. She had cried all through the Lion King— Hakuna Matata could only remind her of one person now— but she tried to be normal when Tito had called, confirming he had safely landed and made it home.

She pulled herself out of bed the next morning and asked her manager, Gibbs if there were any extra assignments she could be doing. She made sure to have a conversation with Evie about work-life balance, which Evie just blindly nodded through, but gave her a few more pieces to edit all the same.

Evie sinks deeper into the water, thankful that the ache in her muscles has been seeping away slowly, at least. For the past few days, she has been sitting in front of her computer, only leaving to use the bathroom and pick up the take-out she orders.

It hasn’t been bad; the focus has meant that she’s now ahead of schedule on her work assignments, and she's making significant progress on her book. Elizabeth, the agent— her agent— hadn’t given her a deadline, but she knows the book is being shopped around to publishers. The sooner she can get a draft done, the better.

Her conversations with Tito have also returned to a familiar pace; it almost feels like he’s just on an extended road trip. It’s only when her eyes catch on the glaringly empty spots around her apartment that she remembers he’s not coming back.

She slides all the way into the cooling water. She hates getting her hair wet in bath water, but she’s hoping it might force her to think about literally anything else. She breathes out and watches the bubbles rise to the surface.

Yeah, didn’t think so.

She sits up, sending water crashing over the edge. Fuck. She watches her bath mat get slowly darker and decides that’s good enough for now. She steps out and begrudgingly washes her hair in the shower.

She’s still deep in thought, drying her hair at the sink, when she notices the second toothbrush still sitting in the holder next to hers. Somehow, she’s gone the past four days without noticing it. She just stares at it; she thinks she should probably just throw it out, but she can’t bring herself to do it.

Evie puts her hairdryer down and just looks at herself in the mirror. Her skin looks sallower than it should be by late spring; it makes her dark circles more noticeable. She knows she looks tired— she is tired. But she also doesn’t want to take a break. 

Without meaning to, her hand comes up to touch her neck; the bruises there are almost gone now. Her fingers push on the biggest one firmly— barely any sensation. Evie bites her lip as she traces the path they take down her chest. She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut as she turns off the lights and steps back out into her bedroom.

Tito — April 28

Tito decides it’s probably time to show his face downstairs when the clock hits 11 am and trudges down the stairs in sweatpants and a hoodie. He can’t decide if he would feel better if his mom was downstairs in the kitchen or not around. He finds out that he's relieved when he sees her sitting at the dining table. She smiles at him softly and stands up when she spots him.

“Good morning, honey.” His mom pulls him in for a hug, and he just lets himself melt into it. She pushes his hood off and gently smooths down his hair. “Do you want me to make you anything for breakfast?”

He sighs. It feels weird to ask his mother to make him breakfast at his age, but the tug in his chest just lets him nod. “Yes, please.”

“Okay,” she says as she drops a kiss to his temple, pushing him to the kitchen island, “What do you want? Omelette?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, sliding onto a stool, “Thanks, Mama.”

He sits in silence, watching her work, the familiar sight settling some of the unease in his stomach. His fingers pick at the fraying edge of the dish towel in front of him.

“Hey, Mama?” he asks softly.

She hums in response.

“Do we have any tea?”

She turns around, her eyebrows slightly raised, “Tea?”

“Uh… yeah,” his voice quiet.

Her brows furrow for a second before returning to neutral. “Yeah, honey. It’s in that drawer over there,” she says, pointing with the spatula.

He puts the kettle on while he opens the drawer to look at his options: chamomile, green tea, Earl Grey. He settles on what he thinks would be the closest to the one he usually drinks, Earl Grey. 

When he sits back down, he takes a deep inhale of the tea; the aroma does seem to help him relax. He can’t place why he suddenly wants to cry, but he bites his lip to push through it.

He feels a gentle squeeze on his arm. “Come on, let’s go sit at the table,” his mom suggests, and he follows her without comment.

“Thanks for the omelette,” he says, looking at her worried expression and forcing himself to smile before digging in.

Even though it tastes as good as it always does, he finds himself struggling to finish the plate in front of him. He just ends up staring at the plate, pushing the eggs around for some time before his mother’s voice breaks through his haze.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she asks gently.

“Hmm?” He looks up, startled. “Oh, nothing. It’s really delicious. I just think I’m full.”

She sighs, getting up from her usual seat at the other end of the table and sitting down next to him. She rests a warm, solid hand on his forearm.

“Anthony, you know that’s not what I meant. What’s going on? You haven’t been yourself since you’ve come home.” Her voice is so full of concern he flinches.

“I’m just tired, Mama. I promise I’m okay,” he forces himself to say.

“You know you can talk to me, right? Or if it’s about hockey, your father? Or even Franky. I know this year has been hard for you. Are you worried about next year? Contract talks?”

He swallows hard, “Something like that, yeah.”

She hums mournfully and pulls him into her side. “I know, it sucks. I hate to see you hurting like this. Do you think you’re going to go into the city soon? I think maybe seeing some friends will cheer you up. You’ve been in your room so much it’s making me— You know you can stay here as long as you like. You can stay here for the whole summer if you want. But I’m worried about you. You need to get outside. Take your mind off whatever’s bothering you.” Her hand rubs along his arm as he turns into her shoulder, sobs trapped in his throat.

He is not going to cry right now. He is not going to cry right now. He is not going to cry right now. 

He counts his breathing until it feels a little more under control before sitting back up and sending his mom a small smile. “I know, that’s probably a good idea. They’ve been blowing up my phone for the past week.”

“Is that who you’ve been talking to on your phone? We weren’t eavesdropping, just— You sounded like you’re having a good time, is all. Maybe you should see whoever that is?”

He doesn’t manage to hold in the heaving sigh that escapes his lips. “Yes— Well, no. But I’ll reach out to some of the boys to see what they’re up to. I want to go see the babies too, so I might go and visit Franky soon.”

“Good,” his mom nods, smiling, “Good. You know, your father and I love you so much. Whatever happens with your career, we are so proud of you. So so proud. No matter what, it’s going to be fine— you’re going to be fine. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, Mama. I know,” he says wetly.

She leans in to kiss him on the forehead, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. “Now, finish your breakfast.”

A fragile laugh bubbles out of him. “Okay.”

Evie — May 4

Evie opens her door in confusion to find Kelsey and Leanne standing there. She can't do anything but watch as they barge inside, clearing her mess and pulling food out of a Thai takeaway bag.

“Uh, guys? What are you doing?” she asks more urgently.

“We,” Leanne starts, voice stern, “Are fixing whatever this is.” She looks at Evie with a pointed stare.

“Yeah,” Kelsey joins in, just as enthusiastically, “We haven’t seen you, and we've barely even heard from you in two weeks.”

“And!” Leanne points, accusatory, “We heard from Gibbs that you’ve taken on like three new projects, and you’ve already finished one of them. Have you even slept?”

“Yeah, you don’t look like you’ve slept.” Kelsey walks over and pokes at her face. “Have you even washed your hair this week?”

“Well, actually, I—” Evie starts to protest and then thinks about it. Kelsey’s right. She hasn’t washed her hair this week. 

“Gigi, what’s going on?” Kelsey’s face softens as her hands come to rest on Evie’s shoulders.

“I mean nothing, really; I haven’t been as focused on work so far this year, so I want to catch up. I guess I’ve been working a little too hard.”

Leanne and Kelsey look at each other, and both roll their eyes. 

“What?” Evie squeaks.

“Go,” Kelsey pushes her to the couch, “Sit down. Go!”

Evie sighs and just complies. To her surprise, they just enjoy each other’s company: hanging out, chatting, and laughing. Over the course of the evening, she starts to feel the deep tiredness in her bones. She feels the dull edges of her mind and the ache in her back. She had gotten so used to Tito’s presence that she didn’t really notice all the ways he had seeped into her life until he was gone. 

It’s a couple hours later when she’s digging into a pint of Cherry Garcia, that they speak up again.

“So, are you gonna tell us how you’re doing now? Honestly?” Leanne prods, innocently blinking at her.

Evie sighs and rests her head on the couch. She blinks at the ceiling and tugs on the strings of her hoodie— Tito’s hoodie. She’s been wearing it every day and hasn’t washed it yet, even though it doesn’t really smell like him anymore.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve been kinda M.I.A. recently, huh?” Evie chuckles humorlessly. “After the whole—” She cuts herself off and waves her hands around. “You know? I just wanted to not think for a bit. Just shut my thoughts off. Work’s been good for that.”

“You know you can talk to me— to us— whenever, right?” Kelsey offers gently.

“I know, I know. I just don’t even— Like I made a choice, and I still stand by it— I just…” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “I think I just miss him more than I thought I would. Like, we still text all the time, and we FaceTime multiple times a day, so it’s not like I could even ask for more. But yeah, it feels really weird now without him here? Just so quiet and empty. Which is ridiculous because this place is tiny and barely fit both of us.”

“You guys never talked about it?” Leanne asks.

“Yeah, even after those hickeys? I mean, we were obviously preoccupied, but I saw the way you both looked. I mean, my god, Lee, you should’ve seen them,” Kelsey says, leaning towards Leanne conspiratorially.

Evie groans and buries her head in her hands. “Don’t remind me,” she mumbles into her palms. “Nothing really even happened. Like, we made out a bit, but—”

“You what!” Leanne screams.

Kelsey laughs, “Oh my god, Lee. When they came around that corner, I swear— You’re telling me, you guys didn’t fuck because it—”

“Oh my god, stop!” Evie groans into her hands, covering her reddening face, unable to suppress her laughs. 

She’s thought about that night plenty: standing at the sink, taking a shower, cooking at the stove, sitting on her couch, typing on her laptop. All. Day. She tries to bury it down deep every time she talks to Tito and sees his sleep-tousled hair when he’s sitting up against his headboard shirtless in the morning light. 

“Earth to Gigi?” Kelsey pushes her shoulder lightly.

“We lost you for a second there. Do you need us to, like, give you some time or something?” Leanne winks, smirking.

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Evie tries to glare at them and fails spectacularly, bursting into laughter.

“Wait, okay, so you seriously didn’t fuck?” Kelsey asks once they’ve calmed down.

“No!” she gasps, through giggles, before calming down. “No, we were interrupted—” 

“Sorry,” Leanne winces.

“No, stop, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Evie reaches out to squeeze Leanne’s hand. Evie feels guilty that deep down, she irrationally does hate Leanne a little.

“I know— it just should never have happened. And it fucked up your night. I feel fucking bad about that.”

“Well, don’t. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. It probably would’ve been a mistake anyway. We had our chance, and we didn’t take it. I guess— I guess I’ve been moping a little about that. Just that, you know, it’s too late.”

Leanne takes her hand and squeezes it in return, “I really don’t think it’s too late.”

“Yeah, what Lee said. I don’t really know what you think you’re too late for.” Evie opens her mouth to interrupt, and Kelsey just shakes her head. “No, shut up, just listen, okay? You guys still talk all the time. And if nothing has changed. Then you’re not too late. ‘Cause you guys are already dating— you have been for months— you just don’t know it yet, apparently.”

Evie opens her mouth and shuts it, unsure what to say to that. She stares at her ice cream, pushing the rapidly melting mess around with her spoon. Eventually, she says, “I don’t know. Even if we were, we never talked about it. And it’s not going to matter if he doesn’t re-sign here.”

“You think?” Leanne cocks her head. “Why do you say that? Like, you guys can do long distance. Or, you could move. You work remotely full time.”

Kelsey nods vigorously. “I mean, I don’t want you to move. But— If you didn’t want to move, you can always travel to him during the season however often you’d like. I think if you guys want to, you can make it work.”

“Yeah, if only to see where it goes,” Leanne echoes enthusiastically.

Evie looks at both of them, staring expectantly at her. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to mess up what we have.”

“Honey, not to beat a dead horse, but you’re already dating. You’re more dating each other than Leanne here is with her actual girlfriend of like almost a year—”

“Hey! What the fuck? Why you gotta bring me into this?” Leanne squawks.

Evie laughs as they squabble for a second, muttering, “God, I can never introduce you guys to Barzy. You three would be insufferable together.”

If Evie is honest with herself, she does think about saying something. She catches herself flirting with Tito constantly. She can tell Tito’s thinking about it, too, with the way she notices him flirting back— or just flirting with her in general.

“Seriously, though,” Kelsey says after a while, “You should think about it. About saying something.”

She smirks, “I do think about it sometimes. He keeps FaceTiming me shirtless, or in just a towel, or sweaty after a run. It’s fucking killing me, and I’m pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose.”

Both girls squeal, somewhat deafeningly, demanding to know details. Evie’s tired. She’s tired from working fourteen hours a day for two weeks. She’s tired of hiding, pretending like she feels differently than she knows she does. She’s tired of lying to herself. So she just lets go, allowing them to pull out whatever gossip they like from her lips.

Tito — May 13

Tito sits on a foam plyometric box and pants. For the first time in his life, he hates the soreness in every single muscle in his body. It’s been impossible to find any satisfaction in the burn. He knows that he needs to stay in shape. He also knows that out of all the summers in his career so far, this one's important. He knows he needs to make an immediate impact wherever he lands next season. 

If he’s sick of the gym after only a week, he’s ten times more sick of the calls with his agent. Every time he gets an update, he feels a headache right between his eyes.

“Tired, already?” Francis asks. “Well, you’ve still got two circuits left.”

Tito groans so loudly it draws the laughs of the other NHL guys training around him.

Francis nudges his foot, “You can ignore me, but your rest is up. Come on, get up!”

Tito sighs and follows his brother to the next station. A group of guys have the gym booked after them. Most notably, he spotted Brandon Gignac when they walked a few minutes ago. He thinks about whether he should say hi. He’s worried that it would be obvious to Brandon that Tito thinks about his sister every moment of every day. 

At the next break, Francis interrupts his thoughts. “So who’s the girl?”

Tito chokes on his drink and barely avoids spitting it all over the gym floor. He coughs hard, trying to get rid of the burning feeling in his throat. The smirk on Francis’s face is so smug and so knowing that he wants to just turn around and walk out the gym door. 

“What?” he splutters. 

“Anthony, I’ve literally known you your entire life. You’re always on your phone. Mom says she hears you on the phone all the time. You suddenly drink— what is it? Earl Grey?— well, tea all the time now. Trust me, I know there’s a girl.”

Tito snorts. “Aren’t you supposed to be bugging me about the next circuit already?” 

Francis hums and looks at the clock on the wall behind Tito. “Hmm… You’re right. But we're talking about this when you’re done.”

“No, we’re not,” Tito mumbles under his breath as they walk over to the final station.

They're cleaning off the equipment when Francis sidles next to him again.

“So…?” he starts casually, “Who’s saved in your phone as chouchou with a couple emojis next to it then?”

“What?” Tito says too loudly. “How do you know—” He slams his mouth shut, but he doesn’t quite stop himself from glancing over at Brandon.

“Wait,” Frances says, following his eye line.

Tito tears his eyes away so fast that he gets a little dizzy. “Franky, I swear to god.”

“Wait a sec— Oh my god. Oh my god!” Francis says, too loud.

“Francis! Shut up!” he whispers.

“Oh my god,” Francis leans in closer, even while Tito continues to ignore him, “It’s Gigi, isn’t it? I can’t believe— God, it’s so obvious now, you bring her up in our calls all the time.”

“Francis, I swear I’m going to rip your balls off,” he hisses through his teeth.

“Okay, well, you’re not going to because you love your nephews, and you want a niece,” he grins smugly. “So, are you going to tell me anything?”

“No,” Tito turns to glare at him, “No I’m not, because there’s nothing to tell. We're just friends. Shut. Up.”

He can’t stop his gaze from darting to Brandon in the mirror as he finishes wiping the bench, his jaw clenched so tight he can feel a low throb of pain in his skull. When he’s done, he meets Francis’s eyes again. He thinks he hates the sympathy he sees there more.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Stop looking at me like that,” he grunts.

“Tito, it’s okay if she doesn’t like you. You’re a catch; there’ll be others.” Francis squeezes Tito’s shoulder as they start walking towards the changing room.

“That’s not the— She’s not— It’s complicated, okay?” Tito sighs, frustrated.

Francis scans his face, a look on his face that's so much more ‘dad’ than ‘big brother’ it hurts. I guess that's what happens when you have two kids. 

“You should go say hi, then. He’s looking over here. It would be rude not to,” he whispers. Before Tito can respond at all, he pushes him to Brandon with a wave.

“Fuck you,” he mutters quietly over his shoulder before turning around and sending a smile at Brandon.

“Hey, Tito! It’s good to see you!” Brandon calls to him with a big smile on his face.

“Hey Brandy, what’s up?” Tito smiles, extending a fist bump.

Evie — May 24

“Evie, I'm so fucking proud of you!” Tito’s voice rings so clear and bright through her phone, his smile infectious as he beams at her. “You fucking did it!”

She giggles. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a published author!”

“Well, I can.”

“Oh, stop it. You haven’t even read it; how could you know?” she scoffs.

“Well, firstly, you’re probably the most eloquent person I know—”

“Big word,” she quips.

“What can I say? I like it when you teach me things.” 

She’s mesmerized by the movement of his neck as he laughs. She just wants to reach through the screen and touch the soft skin there. 

“Seriously, Evie. You’re incredible. I can’t believe you still don’t see that. You know better than anyone that they wouldn’t just take on any book. They must’ve also seen how great you are.”

Evie shifts in her seat, “I— I don’t know what to even say to that, Solou.”

Tito sends her a smile that makes a warmth spread through her chest. “You can take me out for that dinner you keep talking about.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, mon chou. Something really fancy,” he grins cheekily, “I’m not a cheap date.”

A nervous laugh bubbles out of her, her cheeks warm at the thought of actually sitting across from him at a restaurant again. They’ve done that plenty, exploring the many different restaurants around Chicago— as friends. She can’t help but wonder if it would feel different as a date. 

“I’ll keep that in mind then,” she says, her voice strained.

They're silent for a moment, both lost in their thoughts, gazing softly at each other through the pixels of their phones. It just doesn’t feel like enough.

“You know, I would accept a McDonald’s drive-thru if that meant I could celebrate with you,” he pauses and sucks in a deep breath, “I’m sorry I can’t be there tonight.”

Her breath hitches, her heart thundering in her chest, “Oh. That’s— That would’ve been nice, yeah.”

He sighs, his face straining against a sad smile. “So, what are your plans tonight? You gonna go out with the girls?”

“Yeah, Kelsey booked us a table somewhere— she won’t tell me where. Just told me to wear something nice.”

“Well, I mean, that’s not going to be hard,” he smirks.

“Shut up.” Evie rolls her eyes, the corner of her mouth twitching into a grin.

“You look hot in literally everything. But, if you want, I can help you pick an outfit,” Tito winks.

“God, you’re so—” she groans. Her cheeks are flaming, and she watches herself get redder in the small box in the corner of her screen. She sets her phone down, drags her hands down her face, and emits a silent scream.

“What?” She can hear his voice call smugly through her speakers. “It’s the truth! Come on, show me what you’re going to wear.”

Evie shakes her head, ignoring the small flicker of heat that licks at the base of her spine. That seems to happen every time they video call lately,  the flirting between them becoming shameless. They’ve been playing a dangerous game, trying to catch each other off guard; every so often, she picks up the video call in just a thin, loose-fitting tank top or a loosely wrapped towel.

She sets him up on her nightstand, against some books, and shows him a few dresses she got recently. She catalogs each response for examination later. She knows immediately she’ll be wearing the silk, floral dress that made him bright red and mute for a minute. 

“God, I think that’s the most beautiful— You look incredible, chou. Fuck,” he had whispered eventually, voice tight and strained. She had sent him a wink, did a little twirl, and giggled as she ran off camera to change back into her tank top and shorts. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that she could barely hear him when she sat back down.

By the time they hang up, her cheeks are sore from smiling, and she feels so light and happy despite the ache she feels at his absence.

She opens her Instagram and swipes through all the congratulatory comments on the publisher’s post. Her eye catches on a notification.

@titobeauvi91 mentioned you in their story

She clicks on it to see that he has shared the publisher’s post with the caption, “So proud of my best friend! What an incredible and deserved success. I can’t wait to read the book when it’s out. Watch this space for more details!!!”

She watches it three times, marveling at his unending support, and something clicks in her mind.

She searches through Tito’s Instagram and sends a message to Francis before she can change her mind.

To @tankus22: Hi, I don’t know if you remember me or my brother Brandon Gignac. Or if Tito’s mentioned me. But I was just wondering if I could give you a call sometime about his birthday next month?

Tito — June 1

To chouchou 🧁✨: hey, you booked your flights home for fête nationale yet? i wanna make sure i’m around. barz keeps asking me to go out to BC to see him this summer. chouchou 🧁✨: not yet, but probably going to fly in the friday before? like the 21st or something. To chouchou 🧁✨: nice! you got any plans for that yet?

His mind keeps flicking back to his birthday next week; he feels the stinging pain inside his ribcage. It’s not like he asked her to come. There’s no reason for her to come. He’s not having a big party or anything, just a dinner at his parents’ house. 

His friends might drag him out during the week when he comes back to the city. PLD has been complaining about his ‘sad boy’ status all summer— his words, not Tito’s. He just can’t bring himself to go out, especially now that Brandon’s reconnected with the group. The two groups have largely combined; they’re training together, hanging out afterward, and, more importantly, going to bars and clubs together. 

He likes Brandon a lot, but it makes Tito feel like he’s crawling out of his skin when he’s texting Evie the whole time they’re hanging out. Like he’s hiding something. He’s glad that she told him that they were friends, at least. 

He’s also extremely glad that Francis is usually busy with his family or the new training program he’s running. Anytime Francis and Brandon are in the same room, he sends smug, all-knowing looks at Tito the whole day. It makes him feel off balance, stumbling over his words, his skin too tight.

He picks up his phone again when it vibrates in his pocket.

chouchou 🧁✨: nope! not yet. you going to a party or anything? To chouchou 🧁✨: eh? i’ve been invited to a couple. haven’t made up my mind yet. chouchou 🧁✨: well let me know if you do!

Tito sighs and picks up his Xbox controller again. He tries to not feel too disappointed that he probably won’t see her for a few weeks still. He wishes he didn’t miss her so keenly that it consumes him. At least the Earl Grey tea is still weirdly comforting.

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[starshine-hockey-girl]

The Invisible String

Summary - Rocky is from Texas, looking to make it big as a tattoo artist in NY. What happens when Rocky meets NY Islanders forward Anthony Beauvillier and two people so unalike discover that they have more in common than they think. Will their invisible string lead to love or friendship?

This is my very late entry to the summer fic exchange. Yes, I am aware that it is the middle of October. The "No results and a story" excuse is that I got a huge case of writer's block followed by an ass-whooping of self doubt. However, I powered through it, and then the story just grew into this massively long piece. (17.2K- yikes)

This is written for @jarmorie who requested a reader insert or OC (she/her preferred). fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers pls I would die with Anthony Beauvillier. Jarmorie is also a big Taylor Swift fan so I tried to incorporate as much Swift content as I could.

Acknowledgements and thank yous-

@laurenairay, I can't thank you enough for pinch hitting for me when I missed the deadline. I am incredibly thankful for your endless encouragement. I hope you enjoy your brief, but pivotal cameo

@cellythefloshie - Thank you for the encouragement and embracing my verbose nature.

@dreamofstarlight and @fallinallincurls for sharing their Swiftie knowledge. I hope that I do that I did Queen Taylor justice.

@wyattjohnston - one for organizing these fic exchanges. It's a tiring and thankless task. Thank you for understanding my struggle and not shaming me.

@jarmorie I am sorry that the story was so delayed. I really wanted to write something that give you everything that you wanted.

@pattiemac1 and @penstxgal1968 for being the best support system ever. Seriously, they both deserve writing credit for all of their ideas.

Gorgeous

Inked On Ice Tattoo Shop -  Long Island, NY

“Inked on Ice, how may I help you?” Daisy yawned as the shop’s computer fired up and she settled into her chair. 

“Uh yeah,” the deep voice on the line answered, “My buddy and I want to get some ink today. Do you have anyone available?” Daisy glanced at the artist's calendars. 

“Well, it’s going to depend on size, subject and budget. What do you have in mind?” she answered quickly. After a brief discussion, Daisy honed in on available artists. “Do you want to do back to back appointments or get inked at the same time?” she asked. 

She could hear a discussion on the other end. The bland voice in a spirited discussion with another voice with a slight French accent. “Barzy,” the second said with authority, “I do not need you to hold my hand while I get a tattoo. We can get inked at the same time.” 

Daisy’s ears perked up at the name Barzy. “Can I get your names?” she asked as casually as possible as New York Islanders Mat Barzal gave his name along with Anthony Beauvillier. The tattoo shop was owned by Cameron Davies, a former New York Islander. Daisy knew that Cameron would want the pair treated with kid gloves. She examined the schedule again and made an executive decision. She would schedule the more complicated tattoo, Anthony, with JD Porter, master tattoo artist, who just had a last minute cancellation. She would schedule the simpler design, Mat Barzal, with Rocky, JD’s apprentice. . 

“So Tito is with JD and I am with Rocky? Sounds good,” the NHL upstart stated as they confirmed details, “See you at 6 PM.”

In the cozy one bedroom apartment, Rocky picked up the phone and quickly read the text from Daisy. “Yes….” Rocky whispered to no one in particular. As a tattoo apprentice, paying customers were difficult to come by. The last minute addition would give her just enough to pay her share of the rent. Given that most of her time at the shop was unpaid, Rocky’s contribution to the rent was more symbolic than practical. Kelly made enough to cover their expenses and then some, but Rocky insisted on contributing, even if it was essentially meaningless.

“Rocky!” Kelly screamed, “Are you even listening to me? We need to leave in fifteen minutes if we are going to be on time.” 

“Of course, I’m listening.” Rocky replied, “Listen- don’t be mad, but I can’t go with you. I gotta to work tonight. I scored a last minute tattoo.”

“An actual tattoo?” Kelly mocked, “or will it be another night of cleaning and wiping up after the professionals?” 

“Ouch,” Rocky replied, “You know that is part of apprenticeship. I have to pay my dues.”

Rocky’s tattoo apprenticeship was a source of contention in their relationship. The couple had moved to Long Island from Dallas as a stepping stone in Kelly’s financial services career. Together since high school, Kelly disapproved of Rocky’s fascination with all things tattoo. The financial analyst with the fast-rising career wanted a partner that would fit into the corporate world. Rocky decidedly did not fit that mold even if Kelly couldn't admit it.  The apprenticeship highlighted their vastly different career paths and their relationship bore small fissures as a result. 

“Listen,” Rocky pleaded in an attempt to head off another fight about the apprenticeship. Kelly was convinced it was going nowhere. “It’s an actual tattoo so I will get paid,” Rocky explained, “Also apparently these two guys are some sort of VIPs. The fact that Daisy and Cameron are giving one of them to me to ink is a good sign. I can’t turn it down.”

Kelly stood in disbelief and tried to summon anger at Rocky and none came. Honestly, it was a relief to put off introducing Rocky to conservative co-workers a little longer. “Fine,” Kelly said bitterly, “I’ll see you when you get home.”

Two hours later at the shop, Rocky waited patiently to the side as JD inspected the set-up of her station tucked away in the smallest room in the shop. As a mentor, JD held Rocky to a high standard. An Apprenticeship endorsed by him would carry weight within the tattoo community and JD wanted Rocky to be prepared. He gave a nod and Rocky let out a sigh of relief. Together they walked out to the lobby. 

Cameron stood talking to the two athletes about his glory days with the Islanders. Rocky could tell right away that both had passed from polite attention to “oh my god, get us out here” by the tone of their voices. After the third “that’s crazy,’ uttered by Barzal, Cameron noticed JD and Rocky standing there. When he waved them over, Barzal and Beauvillier turned to look over their shoulders. Barzal blinked and gulped while Beauvillier offered a shy smile before looking down at the floor. 

Rocky approached Barzal and extended her hand to him, “Hi, I’m Rocky. I think that you are with me tonight.”

“You’re…..You’re….. “ Barzal stammered, “a woman.” Rocky took a step back and dropped her hand in disappointment. JD and Rocky exchanged a glance before Rocky let out a sigh. Usually any pushback she received came from men much older than Barzal so she was honestly a little shocked. Mat looked stunned. “Wait, I am getting tattooed by a woman?” he asked out loud. 

“Is there a problem?” JD asked as he looked Barzal in the eye. 

“Look, I don’t want to sound sexist here, but…..” he started to say, “I just was expecting a man. I am pretty sure the girl who made the appointment said "man.”

“I did not,” Daisy interjected, “I know for a fact I said no such thing.” When Rocky began as the first female tattoo artist in the shop’s history, Cameron and crew did not anticipate the push-back from their largely male clientele. Most guys came in because of the hockey/Islanders connection and well, their views on gender roles were not exactly progressive. The shop had adopted the policy of referring to all of the artists as gender-neutral as possible. Daisy, Cameron’s wife and partner, was especially intentional about it. Other than a few clients shocked to be facing a petite, brunette pixie of an artist, there had been no issues. 

Rocky looked to Cameron and back to Barzal. She knew that Cameron would want to keep Barzal as a client but also did not want to face the wrath of Daisy for caving in. She was about to speak when Tito Beauvillier spoke up. “She can do my tattoo,” he spoke softly at first to everyone’s surprise. Rocky turned to face the blonde and studied his face. He gave a gentle smile and spoke louder, “Yeah, I think I want her to do my tattoo.”

“I have to let you know that she is still in her apprenticeship. Just so that you are aware, she may not be able to give you the tattoo that you want,” JD explained. A pained look flashed in Rocky’s eyes and Tito took notice. Rocky hated the implication that just because she was still in an apprenticeship that she was less talented. She sucked in a deep breath that she hoped went unnoticed. She was mostly successful with the exception of Tito. He recognized the frustration of being underestimated. 

Then JD turned to Barzy, “It also means that you are going to pay more for my time. It’s up to you.”

Barzal began to hem and haw. His mouth had gotten the better of him and he had stuck his foot so far into it that he didn’t think it would be possible to retrieve. Even if he changed his mind and selected Rocky, the damage was done. Finally Tito spoke again firmly, “No way Barzy. You had your shot at her and you blew it. I want her now.” His eyes fell onto Rocky’s face and he gave a slight nod. 

Rocky laughed out loud, “Well then, let’s get to work.” 

The tiny brunette led Tito to her small section of the studio. She pointed to the table and chairs in the corner. He sat down as she picked up a notebook to take notes. “I have a few questions,” Rocky began as the scent of his cologne wafted into her nostrils. She inhaled and let out a small moan before she realized it. Tito cleared his throat and Rocky blushed in response. “The notes say that this is your first tattoo. Is that correct?” she asked in earnest, “What made you decide to do it today?”

Tito blinked slowly and thought. He hadn’t anticipated the question and was stumped for an answer. Finally he spoke, “I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but never got around to it. When Barzy said he was coming, I decided that I would go ahead and do it.” Rocky nodded her head as she listened. 

“So do you have a design or an idea in mind?” she questioned. 

“Yeah, I found this on the internet and thought it would be cool,” he answered as he fished his phone out of his pocket. Rocky waited patiently as he scrolled this phone. Finally he found the picture and held his phone out to her. She took the phone and looked at the picture. 

Rocky blinked slowly and zoomed in on the picture. Internally, her mind raced with thought “No fucking way”, but her reasoning kicked in. Technically, it would be a challenge which pleased her, but something just didn’t sit well with her. 

She looked up to see him looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Do you like it?” he asked. Rocky flashed a smile similar to a mother gave a child when presented with a treasured piece of artwork. 

“You don’t like it?” he questioned. 

“I didn’t say that,” she replied quickly. 

“You didn’t say it out loud, but it’s what you were thinking,” he countered. 

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” she responded, “You are a paying client. If you want that design, then that’s what we will do.” Rocky bit her lip and paused before speaking again, “Let me talk to JD and get his thoughts. I want to be sure about some of the technical aspects.” She was trying to buy time to think of ways to politely talk Tito out of his design idea. Rocky walked over to JD’s station just as he was placing the stencil on Barzal’s arm. 

“Hey, before you get started,” Rocky started, “Can we go over his design?” They walked away and began an animated conversation. 

Tito looked down the hall at Rocky and watched intently. Her hands gestured wildly as she spoke with passion. He couldn’t make out the words, but whatever she said, it was said with conviction. Barzal nudged Tito with his arm, “So she is…… uhhhh…. different.” Tito continued to stare without answering. “Beau!” Barzal said loud enough to draw the attention of JD and Rocky. 

Tito was caught staring at Rocky before he quickly turned around to face Barzal with a scowl. “Did you have to yell?” he spoke softly. 

“You weren’t answering me,” his friend replied with a laugh, “I don’t like to be ignored.” 

Tito looked back over his shoulder quickly before he answered, “Technically, it wasn't a question, but a statement. Yes, I agree. She is quite unique. By the way, what was up with your attitude earlier? You think she can't tattoo because she is a woman?"

"No, that’s not it,” Barzal shot back, “I had a big, burly guy named Rocky in my head so when the pixie queen of tattoos came out, I was surprised. I put my foot in my mouth.”

Tito began to respond but noticed the duo of tattoo artists were walking back to them. 

Rocky gave what could be best described as her “customer service” smile and gestured to Tito to go back into her section. He gave a shrug to Barzal and followed her. Then he turned around to Barzal who watched, “You know what you need to do.” Barzal nodded and followed JD back to the table. 

The sound of Barzal’s soft yelp and the buzz of JD’s tattoo needle floated into Rocky’s section as they sat down again. 

“Soooooo…” Tito smiled. 

“So now that I had the technical questions I had about the design answered. I can certainly do it for you,” she smiled. 

“Why do I feel like there is a ‘but’ hanging in the air?” Tito smiled. 

“There is no but, you want the design then I will give you the correct one,” she replied coolly. 

“Rocky, tell me the truth,” Tito urged her to answer. 

“How does he know I am lying?” she questioned herself. She looked into his eyes and saw his genuine concern. She paused and thought about her answer. For some people tattoos were just not that deep, but she got the sense that Tito wasn’t one of those people. She decided to flip the script. “What is it about the design that you like?” she asked. 

“Well, I like the black and gray,” he began. When she nodded in understanding, he continued, “I liked the logo because I play for the Islanders” When her nose scrunched ever so slightly, he asked, ”What do you not like about the design?”

“This is a design for every wannabe hockey bro that wasn’t good enough to make it to the NHL,” she blurted out, “Why do you want to look like every other Goomba out there? This design tells me nothing about you as a person. It’s bland and generic and that’s not you. You’re not bland and generic.”

Tito laughed, “Tell me how you really feel.”

Rocky’s eyes flashed up and held his gaze, “Look, maybe I should take the easy money and give the tattoo you want, but that’s not the kind of artist I want to be,” she answered with passion, “I want my work to mean something, both to my client and to me. It’s probably not going to make me “successful”, but that’s really not my goal anyway.” She sighed dramatically, “And that’s not even the most obvious objection to it.” 

“And what’s the most obvious objection to it?” Tito questioned as he studied the design again. 

“When is your contract up? Do you have some sort of non-trade clause?” she asked plainly. He blinked slowly. She continued, “Seriously? When is your contract up?”

“2024,” he said softly as he began to process what she was saying, “I have another season and a half.” 

“And you’re sure that they are going to re-sign you?” she prodded, “I don’t know too much about hockey so I don’t know if you are good or not. I do know that tattooing your team name on your body seems like the hockey equivalent to tattooing your girlfriend or wife’s name on your body. It’s a lovely gesture at the moment, but what do you do when things go south?”

Tito gulped and spit out, “I see your heart and soul is as black as your jet black hair.”

Rocky sat up straight, “Would you rather me not say anything?”

“No, you’re right,” he laughed, “You’re totally right. It looks like I am not getting a tattoo, at least tonight.” They sat silently and looked at each other. Both of them sizing the other up. Finally Tito spoke, “So if you think this design is trash, what design do you think I should get.”

“Something unique, something that tells a story about you,” Rocky pondered out loud. 

“Unique? What’s unique about me? I am just a guy who plays hockey,” Tito challenged. 

“Nah, you are so much more than that,” Rocky answered a little too quickly. 

“How can you tell?” he quizzed. 

“That twinkle in your eye,” Rocky smiled, “There is a whole world hidden behind the twinkles in your eyes.” 

Tito leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “I could say the same about you.” 

Rocky blushed momentarily before the vibration on her phone drew her attention. It was a text from Kelly letting her know that he would be home late. His department decided on dinner after drinks. Rocky shook her head and silently admonished herself. She wouldn’t exactly call her behavior flirting, but it definitely wasn’t strictly professional. Rocky looked up into Tito’s soft blue eyes again. She was right. There was a whole world hidden in there. A world that she wanted to know more about. 

“I could design something for you,” she blurted out before she processed the thought.

“I would be honored,” he answered quickly, surprising himself. 

“So tell me about yourself, Mr. Beauvillier,” she leaned forward and put her chin into her hand while her elbow rested on the table. 

“Well, I was born in Quebec….” he began. 

She held up a finger and grabbed a pen and paper to write notes and sketch ideas. She motioned for him to continue and he did. Every once in a while he would lean forward to sneak a peek at what she wrote down or doodled. She pushed him away with a playful shove and smile

An hour later Rocky jumped at the sound of JD’s loud knocks. “Hey,” he said with a frown on his face, “We’re done in here.” Tito looked up with a smile. JD. grunted and turned around. 

“What’s his problem?” Tito nodded his head at the door. 

Rocky shrugged her shoulders, “He’s probably pissed that he is going to miss his cut of my fee.” Tito tilted his head in question. “Since he is my mentor, he gets a cut of my fee along with the shop,” she explained, “No tattoo, no fee.” 

“If it’s about the money, I am happy to pay,” Tito offered

Rocky neatly piled up her things. “He’s probably pissed too since he told me just to do the damn design.” she added. They walked out together and waited as Daisy cashed Barzal out. 

“Beau,” Barzal popped off, “What? Did you wimp out?”

“Nah,” Tito answered, “I convinced her to work with me on a custom design. I am thinking of a half sleeve to start that we can add onto later down the road.” JD’s eyebrows raised and Rocky shrugged her shoulders. Barzal turned to them, “What do you think? Pretty badass, huh?”

Rocky suppressed a giggle, “Oh, totally. You’re like the Lion King. Should I call you Simba?” Tito guffawed until Barzal shot him a look. 

“Hurry up so I can pay, Simba,” Tito joked. Barzal casually flipped him off and turned to pay.

“Pay for what? You didn’t get a tattoo?” Rocky said in a stunned voice. 

“Yes, I do need to pay. We were in a consultation. JD, what’s the price per hour for consultations?” Tito looked over to ask Rocky’s mentor. 

“One fifty,” he answered tersely. Rocky bit her lip. He quoted a rate that was double her normal rate and Tito hadn’t blinked an eye. Of course, she knew that JD’s reasons were not altruistic at all. A higher rate meant a higher cut for him and the shop. It also meant that he could now charge Barzal double his normal rate for the basic tattoo he did. Rocky admired his hustle, even if she felt guilty about Tito paying more than necessary for it. 

After Barzal paid, Tito cleared his throat loudly and nodded to Rocky. Barzal shot him a look of confusion. Tito muttered under his breath, “apologize”. Rocky’s head shot up and she looked at Tito who shrugged his shoulders. Barzal nodded in understanding. 

“Uhhhh, Rocky?” Barzal started, “I apologize for earlier. I really wasn’t trying to knock you as an artist. I really was just expecting a big, burly guy based on the name. No offense meant.” Rocky smiled and looked down as she contemplated how long to make the hockey phenom squirm. “Seriously, I am not really a sexist pig,” he continued, “I have much respect for women.”

“Sure you do,” Rocky laughed.

“I swear I do,” Barzal squeaked, “Tell her Beau.”

Tito paused to allow him to sit in his discomfort, “I can attest that Barzy is a great admirer of women who happened to stick his foot so far into his mouth that he is choking on it. I am not sure if it's because of the nasty toe jam or God-awful odor.” Barzal’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

Rocky giggled, “It’s okay, Simba. I am just busting your balls out of amusement. A little bit of friendly fire, I suppose.”

Barzal shot Tito a glare. “Thanks. It looks like I may need new friends these days,” he smiled as the group walked toward the exit. Rocky and Tito exchanged numbers, which did not go unnoticed by Barzal. When he questioned Tito in the car afterwards, Tito dismissed his comment. “It will be easier to set up time to go over ideas directly with her.” 

“Whatever you say,” Barzal retorted, “I am sure it has nothing to do with the puppy dog eyes you make when looking at her. No, not at all.”

Inside the tattoo parlor, Cameron buzzed about the potential exposure the shop would receive if Barzal posted his new tattoo on social media. JD looked like a deer caught in headlights. While a master tattoo artist, JD was woefully behind the times on social media, considering it an unnecessary evil. Rocky shook her head, “I’ll take care of it.” 

Kelly was sitting on the couch when Rocky arrived back at their apartment. She walked over and kissed the top of his head as he watched Squawk Box on CNBC. “How did the dinner go?” she asked softly. She began stripping as he watched the television. 

“Huh?” he answered as he glanced over at her bare torso as she stripped off her leggings. 

“I said how did the dinner go? Were you able to talk to Ross about your idea?” she asked as she walked into the bedroom to grab one of his large t-shirts to sleep. 

“Oh yeah,” he answered, “We just need the go ahead from Grant and we will be good to go. Hey, I brought you dessert from the restaurant.” 

Rocky walked back out and smiled, “That’s great. We both got good news tonight.” Kelly had turned his attention back to the television. She sighed and walked into the kitchen, opened the take out bag and stared at the cheesecake in the container. It was covered in strawberry syrup. She looked at Kelly in disbelief and then shook her head. Rocky’s favorite was, indeed, cheesecake, but she was allergic to strawberries. She had been since childhood. Kelly knew this, or at least had been told at least a dozen times. He probably scanned the menu, saw the cheesecake and ordered it in hurry. It was the little details that he ignored that drove her crazy. When he was in his "work zone", he lost all focus on anything else.

She placed the cheesecake into the refrigerator. She mumbled something about going to bed. She glanced at her phone and saw the text notifications. 

Rocky looked at her phone and her eyes widened. She had almost 1,000 new followers including Tito, Barzal and a half a dozen other Islanders. 

Thursday- Inked on Ice- Long Island

JD did a double take when Rocky passed him on her way to her station. Rocky’s de facto uniform for work days was a vintage concert or slogan t-shirt with distressed jeans. Today, however, she wore form-fitting black leather pants paired with a crisp white button down shirt. The shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hot pink spaghetti strap camisole. Her hair had also been artfully piled atop her head with a hot pink bandana in the “Rosie the Riveter” look. Most of the staff had a similar reaction. 

“What?” she questioned when Daisy let out a low whistle, "I just felt like dressing up."

“I hope you are comfortable because you are now officially booked solid," Daisy smiled. 

Rocky blinked and swallowed deep. She was finally coming into her own as a tattoo artist. She was still doing smaller and less intricate designs but her technique improved with each one. She took her schedule and got ready for her first appointment. 

Seven hours later, Tito walked into the shop. Daisy immediately greeted him, "Rocky is wrapping up a tattoo. It should be a few minutes." Tito took notice of Rocky's neatly labeled portfolio. The contents mainly consisted of small tattoos that she had done in a variety of styles. The mix was split evenly between color and gray. In the back were larger, more intricate designs.

He was lost in thought when Rocky approached from behind.  "See anything you are interested in?

"They are all great," he said after he collected himself, "I like these landscape ones. That one reminds me of my days playing on an outdoor rink."

Rocky leaned forward to confirm which drawing he meant. Her breath felt warm against his neck and he inhaled her perfume. "Oh, that one? Let's go talk in my section," she said softly, oblivious to his reaction. She turned around and walked back to her small room. Tito gulped and turned to follow. His eyes involuntarily swept over her body as she walked in front of him. 

She was already sitting down when he entered. He stopped at the door and observed her as she pulled out her sketch pad and pencils. "Either come inside or go get me coffee," she joked.

"Coffee?" he asked, "What's your order?"

"Unsweet iced coffee with an extra shot and skim milk, 2 pumps of sugar free vanilla syrup, 2 Splenda and light caramel drizzle," she answered without looking up.

"You know I have zero shot of getting that right," he smiled.

"Beauregard, if you can remember the draft line-up of your draft in order, then you can remember this," she looked up and flashed a smile. He laughed softly. "Or you could just tell them Rocky's usual," she smiled wider, "Whatever is easier."

"You’re a regular over there?" he asked as he began to leave.

"Yes, and I tip very well. Don't ruin my rep, Beauregard," she warned, "Go and let me work. I am inspired."

"Beauregard?" He stopped, "You can't call me Tito or Beau like everyone else?"

"Do I look like a woman who does what everyone else does?' she retorted.

"Silly me," he sighed, "and to think I am paying to go be your coffee bitch." He waited for a response but she had focused on her paper again. 

When he returned with her iced coffee, music was playing. She expertly added shading to the drawing while she sang. https://open.spotify.com/track/1ZY1PqizIl78geGM4xWlEA?si=eebcaf1014c24c38

But if you're single that's honestly worse

'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

(Honey, it hurts)

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine

I feel like I might sink and drown and die

You're so gorgeous

I can't say anything to your face (to your face)

'Cause look at your face (look at your face)

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way (this way)

But what can I say?

You're gorgeous

He watched her for a moment before he involuntarily started singing as well.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad (mmh)

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have and

Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats (yeugh)

Alone, unless you wanna come along (oh)

Rocky looked up when she heard his voice and smiled. Tito gallantly presented her with her complex coffee order. He glanced over at the picture before teasing, “So you’re a Swiftie? That’s surprising.” 

“Why?” she asked. 

He made a hand gesture up and down. “The hair, the tattoos, piercings all scream metal goth girl, but here you are jamming away to basic white girl music while drinking basic white girl coffee. Color me confused.”

“That’s what you get when you judge a book by its cover. You miss the complexity of most humans,” she said philosophically. “By the way, I did notice you jamming along. Are there a lot of Swifties in the NHL?”

“Nah, my ex, Tiffany, was one," he answered, "I became one by osmosis."

"Really?" She replied, "My boyfriend just mocks me."

“Ahhhhh,” Tito, “He doesn’t know what he is missing. Taylor Swift is a musical genius.”

"Well, well, well," Rocky whistled, "Look who is the basic white girl now.” 

“Shut up and show me the sketch that you have been so focused on,” he answered as he rolled his eyes. 

She slid the sketch pad over to him and looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “I tried to incorporate everything that we talked about last time,” she said quietly. Rocky wasn’t sure as she was filled with apprehension suddenly. Her art was one of the few areas of her life that she was sure about these days. 

Tito gingerly touched the sketch pad and took in each detail of the illustration. He was surprised by the lack of color, but it was so effective that he couldn’t imagine the piece in anything but simple black and gray. It was the embodiment of everything that they had discussed. 

“What do you think?” she asked. 

Tito swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the tears filling his eyes. “I think,” he started before pausing to steady his voice, “I think it’s perfect.”

“Really?” she smiled tentatively, “You really like it?”

He looked up at her and stared for a moment. Underneath the heavy make-up and tough exterior, he saw her sweet spirit. She was more complex and multi-dimensioned than anyone he had ever met despite practically being a stranger. She had put her heart and soul into this drawing and the magnitude of that action was not lost on him. 

“Yes,” he smiled, “I wouldn’t change a thing about it.”

MIDNIGHT RAIN

The next few weeks were a blur to Rocky. Her days were filled with appointments and consultations. Word of mouth began to spread as client after client posted their ink on social media. Glowing reviews accompanied each post, and Rocky’s reputation began to grow in the tattoo community. Pretty soon, some pretty big name artists began following her, including Catarina Vandewahl, who was a pioneer female tattoo artist. 

 With her growing popularity came sacrifices and hardships. Rocky worked hard to capitalize on the buzz around her work and kept herself booked solid. It meant less and less time at home with Kelly.  They became like ships passing in the night. He was going to bed as she got home from a long day at the shop and left before she woke up for the day. On the rare occasion they were together, they both struggled to find the connection that had bonded them in their youth. Kelly worked feverishly on his work project while Rocky sat on the couch and watched hockey. 

The texts between Tito and Rocky began as strictly business. Short and brief texts to schedule time to work on his tattoo. It was a task that was becoming more and more difficult to complete due to their hectic schedules. However, somewhere along the line, the tone changed from professional to borderline flirtation. 

They scheduled his six hour session two days after Taylor Swift’s Midnights album release. It was a rare day off for Tito and Mondays were usually light for Rocky so she was able to make adjustments to her calendar. The plan was for the duo to experience the album together so they swore to each other to remain as “spoiler free” as possible. 

In the meantime, Rocky began to follow the Islanders closely. Growing up in Dallas, she was a casual fan of the Stars. She knew the basics of hockey, but not the finer details. She grew frustrated trying to watch Tito play. Eventually, they developed a routine of Tito picking a game on his “off” nights, and they would text back and forth throughout the game. Of course, it was all in the name of teaching Rocky about hockey. However, the subject quickly opened up to broader discussions that almost touched on the philosophical. 

Tito kept her updated about life on the road and humorous stories of adventures with teammates. Rocky threw in stories from the tattoo shop. From there, the subject of relationships bubbled up. Tito was shocked to find himself revealing his frustrations in finding a woman that was willing to put up with his unusual schedule while maintaining her own identity. Most women seemed more than ready to give up their own “careers” to make themselves available to NHL players. Tito found it tedious and boring. 

Eventually Rocky found herself venting to Tito about how Kelly and her were on almost completely opposite schedules and how isolated she felt from him. Almost immediately, she regretted it and walked back her statements. Internally she scolded herself for crossing some imaginary line. For his part, Tito avoided the subject and redirected back to the game they were supposed to be watching. He couldn’t even think of a reason why he felt the need to change the subject. They were both venting about essentially the same subject. Still he felt a sting as he listened to her vent and he pictured her domestic life with her boyfriend. The sting was especially strong as he looked around his nondescript hotel room and remembered that there would be no one waiting for him when he returned home at the end of the road trip. 

The cracks in Rocky and Kelly’s relationship began to deepen the weekend before Tito’s appointment. With his big work project complete, Kelly looked to reconnect with his long-time love. He made a reservation at a romantic restaurant and booked a suite at the Plaza. It was the sort of restaurant that demanded a level of elegance and style that was out of Rocky’s comfort zone. 

“Quit fidgeting,” Kelly smiled as they followed the hostess to their table at the back of the restaurant. His hand was on the small of her back as she smoothed her hair down. She had just dyed her hair a vibrant red that morning and spent an inordinate amount of time curling it to achieve the perfect vintage fifties vibe she was going for. 

“People are staring at me,” she said quietly. 

“Please,” he joked, “You don’t dye your hair that color while wearing that dress if you don’t want attention.” Rocky flinched internally at his words. After they sat down, she quickly picked up the menu to study it. The fact it also shielded the tears that welled up in her eyes was an added bonus. 

“Hey,” Kelly said softly, “Let me see your face.”

“I’m deciding what to eat,” she said as she willed her voice to remain steady. 

“Rox,” he whispered, “Let me see your face.” She bit her lip. He only called her Rox when he was being sweet and kind to her. While she couldn’t say that he had been unkind recently, there had been a dearth of sweetness over the past couple of months. Slowly, she lowered the menu to let him see her face. “Rox,” he sighed.

“Do you think I dress the way I do for attention?” she murmured, “Do you think I am that kind of person?”

Kelly reached for her hand and grabbed it before she withdrew it. “I think that you can’t dye your hair fire engine red and cover yourself in tattoos and then be shocked when you get attention from normal people.”

“Normal people?” she questioned as she raised her menu again, “I am not a normal person? Since when?” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he said flatly, “I don’t want to argue. I like the hair and the dress. You look beautiful and unique. You should rock the hell out of it while you can.” 

“While I can?” she asked after the server took their order, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Rox,” he said, “Don’t overthink it. I just want to have a romantic night with my girl.” 

Something inside of her bristled at the comment “his girl”. She tried to focus on his intent or at least what she believed to be his intent. Kelly wasn’t a malicious person. He was actually quite thoughtful and caring. In fact, it was one of her favorite qualities about him. She looked at him and smiled. "So do you want to hear about my week?" He nodded in affirmation and she began telling a funny story about a misspelled tattoo. 

Back in their hotel suite later, they had exhausted all subjects of conversation. Rocky pulled out her phone as a distraction and saw the notification from Tito.

Rocky quickly typed out a reply.

Rocky- Hey…. Quit cheating

Tito- Who? Me?

Rocky- Yes, you - Beauregard

Tito- #sorrynotsorry. I am bored in the hotel room. Staying spoiler free is hard.

Rocky- Quit being a spoiler whore and go to sleep. You will need your energy for Monday.

Tito- That's right- you're going to pop my cherry. Be gentle with me.

Rocky stared at the screen. She knew full well that he was referring to his first tattoo experience. However, suddenly, a very graphic image of her sliding down onto him filled her mind. She could almost hear him whisper in his light accent, "Be gentle with me." Rocky dropped her phone which drew Kelly's attention. He gave a funny face and she scrambled to grab the phone to prevent Kelly from seeing the content. Then she remembered that it had only been a figment of her imagination and not anything that could be read

Tito- Rocky?

Rocky- Sorry, dropped phone. Yes, I will be gentle with you. I gotta go. We’re headed to bed. TTYL.

Tito stared at the screen. "Headed to bed?" he thought. A vision of Rocky riding him while throwing her head back filled his mind. He tried to imagine just how much of her upper body was decorated with ink. He stared at the screen, then put the phone down. He turned on the TV and willed himself to not look at the phone. “Fuck it,” he groaned as he picked up his phone again. Without thinking, he found himself on her Instagram page scrolling through pictures. “Don’t hit like, don’t fucking hit the like button,” he reminded himself as he stalked. It was mainly tattoo photos with an occasional selfie. He scrolled back up and stopped. “Damn,” he whispered to himself, “Damn.” 

Before he could stop himself, he responded with a flirty reply. He saw Kelly’s response and exhaled in disgust before clicking on his profile. His posts consisted of mainly “bro” activities - hanging out with friends, tailgating at Jets games, trips to the shore, etc. Tito noticed that they were only rare pictures of Rocky, at least recently.

Pretty soon, he had spent an hour down the rabbit hole of Kelly’s profile. He had pieced together a rough timeline of Rocky’s relationship with Kelly. It started off strong in high school with nearly constant photos. Things definitely cooled in college as Kelly morphed from slightly emo/goth boy to total finance bro . There was a direct correlation between their individual transformations and their relationship-at least based on what you could see on social media. Tito would bet that Rocky's tattoos and fashion style were an issue. The more she got, the less he posted her picture. A couple of years after graduation, other than holiday and anniversary posts, she was non-existent on his timeline. It wasn't as if Kelly was necessarily hiding his relationship with Rocky on social media, but he wasn't exactly shouting it from the rooftops either. He did a similar deep dive onto Rocky’s page and reached the same conclusion. 

He scrolled back to her post from that night. How could the things that he found so fascinating about Rocky be an issue for this Kelly dude? He didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand it all. Tito gently touched the screen with his thumb. Her smile made him feel things. Her eyes, he thought to himself, her eyes were bright on the surface, but underneath there was a world that he wanted to know. He wanted to know what made her happy and what made her sad. He wanted to know what she thought about the new Taylor Swift album. He wanted to know her thoughts about everything. 

Back at the Plaza, Rocky sighed heavily as she tried to get comfortable in the oversized hotel bed.  As much as she appreciated the thought and effort that Kelly had put into making the night special, something had fallen flat. Even their lovemaking had been lackluster with them both going through the motions without any true passion between them. Muscle memory elicited perfunctory orgasms for each of them before both they rolled in opposite directions to sleep. Rocky tried "fluffing" her pillow before grabbing her phone. 

She glanced at Instagram and smiled at Tito's comment. "Can't sleep?" Kelly said sleepily.

"No, maybe it was the espresso martini at dinner?" She replied.

"Rox, you mainline coffee all day long. How can an espresso martini affect you like this?" he challenged. She shrugged her shoulders. "Come here," he held out his arm to her, "I'll try the head thing." Rocky rolled over and snuggled into his chest. They laid in silence for a minute. Kelly's fingertips ran up and down arm gently in slow, methodical fashion. He could feel the tension oozing out of her pores. "Rox, talk to me," he finally asked, "I know that something set you off tonight."

"Well, first you said I wasn't normal," she started meekly.

"Normal wasn't the right word," he interjected, "Average is more accurate. It wasn't meant as an insult, Rox. You should know that you stand out in a crowd. You are special and unique….."

"Why do I sense that there is a but hanging in the air?" She questioned.

"There is no but hanging in the air…." He snapped back.

"What did you mean when you said I should rock the hell out of my look while I can?" she lifted her head and stared into his eyes. 

"There it is. That is what you have been stewing over since dinner," he sighed, "What I meant was that eventually you will need to dress more appropriately. Wait, appropriate is not the right word. Hmmmm, maybe I should say….ummmm, subdued."

"Subdued? Why do I need to be subdued?" She shot back.

 He sighed, "because eventually I will need you to be a partner. I can't become a CEO without a good partner."

"CEO?" she balked, "Since when do you want to become a CEO? What happened to the 'work as hard as we can fo the next ten years so we can retire and travel the world" plan? When did that change?"

Kelly blinked, "When I started and discovered that I actually liked it. I am good at my job and I can go further than I thought I could. I know it doesn't mean shit to you but I love it. If you gave it a chance, you might like it too."

Rocky searched into his eyes to gauge his seriousness. Her gaze was met with an expression of such earnestness that she felt actual pain in her heart. "Tell me more about this plan," she said softly before she laid her head on his chest and he wrapped his arm around her to pull her close. She listened as he explained his fifteen year long route to CEO. It included getting married within two years and having their first child two years after that. Everything was mapped out in such detail that Rocky was beginning to wonder when exactly the original plan changed and when he was planning on telling her.

"You're being awfully quiet, Rox," he said at the end as he wrapped up.

"It's a lot to take in," she whispered, "It's a lot to take in."

"You'll at least consider it? Will you at least consider it for me?" He asked hopefully.

"Yes, I will think about it," she sighed. 

Kelly kissed the top of her head, "You're the best. I love you."

"Love you too," she yawned, "let's get some sleep."

TWO DAYS LATER- INKED ON ICE Tattoo Shop

Tito winced and gritted his teeth as Rocky worked on the outline of the complex tattoo design they had settled on. “How are you doing there, Beauregard?” Rocky asked cheerfully. Tito had been sitting stoically for almost three hours. The session started out strong. They started with listening to Taylor Swift’s Midnights, but after two times they grew restless. When Rocky suggested switching to Speak Now, he readily agreed. 

He groaned, “Why on earth would you willingly do this multiple times?”

Rocky smiled, “I don’t know. The art is worth the pain, I suppose. Of course, it could also be that I am tougher than you and can take the pain. I would have thought a hockey player would be tougher but then again Barzal cried like a little bitch too.”

“Hey,” he whined, “Would you like me to tell you all of the injuries that I have played with?”

“Will it make you quit whining?” she countered, “If so, then by all means, tell me how tough you are.” Rocky knew that it would draw his focus away from the tattoo and therefore the pain. Sure enough, the conversation bought Rocky about forty five minutes of productive work time. When he began to lose focus again, Rocky tapped his leg. “Hey, we are at a good stopping point for a break. You rest and I will go grab us some lunch from next door. The lasagna is top notch.” Tito breathed a sigh of relief. Within minutes, Rocky had prepared his arm enough to move freely. “Stretch, move around and relax,” she instructed, “We have about another four hours to finish it. Think you can handle it?” She looked at him with concern. It was his first tattoo and she wanted to be sure that he didn’t tap out before she finished. Also, she wouldn’t admit to anyone, but part of her wondered if she could take another four hours on trying to focus on tattooing while she ignored the intrusive thoughts in her head. 

When she returned with the food, he was casually scrolling through his phone. He graciously accepted the lasagna and bottle water. “What do I owe you?” he asked. 

“You don’t need to pay me back,” she insisted. 

“I am not used to women buying me food,” he blushed. 

Rocky blinked, “Beauregard….. What kind of women are you dating? They don’t even do the courtesy to reach for their wallet? Where are you finding them? Puckbunnies.com?”

“Hey,” Tito cautioned, “Tap the brakes there.”

Rocky immediately hung her head, “I am sorry, Beau. Truly, I am. I am just dealing with a personal thing and it’s got me extra “fight the patriarchy” right now. 

Tito’s face immediately softened, “Something personal? With your boyfriend? What’s his name again- Kelly?”

Rocky sighed, “Yeah, something with him. Hey, how did you know his name?”

Tito blinked. He didn’t want to admit to the stalking of Instagram. “Ummm, didn’t he comment on the picture the other day?” he answered casually. 

“Oh yeah,” Rocky smiled, “I forgot about that.” 

They sat in silence for a moment. The unanswered question hung in the air. Finally Tito asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Rocky fought the impulse to open to him. “He’s a client,” she told herself before she took another bit of lasagna. She looked out of the corner of her eye to find Tito staring, waiting on an answer. “Beauregard, I appreciate the offer. It’s nothing earth shattering or dramatic," she offered as an answer. When his eyes didn't move from her face, "Stop staring at me. You're being weird," 

Tito looked down and thought, "Was he being weird?" Then he shook his head and looked at her. Her eyes held a silent plea to drop the subject. He waffled between pushing for an answer, absolutely hoping for any news that the relationship had cracks that could be exploited and letting her tell him without pressure. He grimaced at his mind that jumped at the opportunity to "exploit" any weaknesses in her relationship. No, if they had a future together in their destinies, it would happen without manipulation or pressure. He smiled and deflected, "So, ummmm, where did Rocky come from? Did your dad just really want a boy?"

She was thankful for the deflection. She wasn't ready to put her emotions into words yet. Rocky grinned widely, "It's short for Raquelle. My younger brother, Gabriel, could only say Raq and not Raquelle. Alexander turned it into Rocky after I beat him up." Tito's eyes widened. "Well, he deserved it. He stole my Nintendo DS," she explained. 

"Remind me never to get on your bad side, Raquelle," Tito smiled.

There was something about the way that he said her name made her heart leap with joy. She felt blush overcome her cheeks and she looked away. Tito thought she never looked more beautiful. "Yep, I am going to call you Raquelle from now on," he teased casually.

"Whatever you say, Anthony " she countered. Both of them scrunched their noses immediately. "Nope, Beauregard is better," she declared. She glanced at the clock. "Now eat up, Beauregard," she ordered, "We are going to start in ten minutes and keep going until we are done."

"Yes, Raqueĺle," he cooed, exaggerating each syllable in his slight French accent. Rocky bit her lip and took a bite of lasagna. "I will let you torture me again in ten minutes." he laughed.

Rocky's plan to carb load Tito worked. When they began again, he got into the zone. He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. His body entered into a trance like state and they powered through together. They were reaching the finish line when "Midnight Rain" started. https://youtu.be/Odh9ddPUkEY?si=IRMd5VC86a0xnQ77. Taylor's voice filled the room

Rain, he wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

Rocky's head popped and listened to the song that seemed to encapsulate the current state of her relationship. When the words "Cause he was sunshine, I was midnight rain,.He wanted it comfortable,I wanted that pain" floated across the room, her eyes filled with tears. Unable to see, she lifted the needle from Tito's skin.  The lack of sensation reached into his brain but did not penetrate. It was the tear that splashed down on his forearm that got his attention. He looked at the wet mark and then lifted his eyes to look at her face

 Tears streamed down as she stared into space. "Rocky? Are you okay?" He sat straight up in the chair. She glanced at him and cried harder. "Rocky, what happened?" He questioned. "Mon ami, what happened? Did you make a mistake?" She shook her head vigorously. 

"He is sunshine and I am midnight rain. He wants comfortable and I want pain," she said out loud to no one in particular.

"Who?" His hand went to her cheek, "Kelly?" She nodded her head. "What happened, Mon Ami? You were fine," he soothed. 

"The song," she choked out.

He listened as the song ended. "Which song?" He asked.

"Midnight Rains," she whispered.

"The breakup song?" He asked in the tenderest voice. 

Rocky wiped her tears, "He has a fifteen year plan now. He wants to be a CEO and he wants me to be the good little corporate wife." Tito's mind raced. "Can you imagine?" She whined, "Can you imagine me at the country club."

"No, no I can't." He answered honestly. "How do you feel about that?"

"Terrified," she blurted out, "What if I can't do it? What if I lose myself in the process?

"Do you even want to do it? He asked sincerely, "Is that the life you want?"

She stared at him like he had three heads. Of course, it was Kelly. He was her future. He had been her future since she can remember. She hadn't considered what she wanted. 

He wiped her tears that still flowed." It is just a song," he whispered, "It doesn't have to mean a break up." Internally he screamed at himself to shut up, but he couldn't stop himself. No, if she was going to end things, she would do it without his interference. It was clear that she wasn't ready to let go. "Rocky…." He continued as she stared into space, "Raquelle…." Her head snapped in direction. "It's just a song," he explained, "You get to decide your future. You can have any future you want."

Rocky inhaled deeply, "You think?"

"I know," he smiled back.

"Thank you Beauregard," she smiled, "You're a good friend to me." Her breath hitched as the word came out of her mouth. 

"It is my pleasure," he smiled, "It's.honor and a pleasure to be your friend. However, if you don't finish this ink soon, I am going to come to my senses soon and I will never let you near me with a needle again."

Rocky glared, "No way you are tapping out now. Buckle up Beauregard.".He sat back and closed his eyes. "Alexa, play Shake It Off."

Thirty minutes later, Tito stood and admired the design. "It's perfect," he praised, "I can't wait to post it." 

Two weeks later - USB Arena

Kelly held the ticket stub in his hand as they walked around the concourse of the USB arena. “Rox,” he said suddenly, “These are lower bowl seats. I think these seats are pretty close to the glass. Where did you get them again?”

“I told you,” she said sweetly, “A client gave them to me as a thank you.” Kelly led them down the stairs to the seats which were right next to the Islanders penalty box. Rocky took the seat nearest the box. Kelly had a thing about having an easy exit out of crowded places and would have felt boxed in. The music in the arena was loud and pulsating. Rocky looked around and absorbed the vibe. She was lost in thought when a loud horn sounded. She looked up to see the Islander team taking the ice. She hadn’t even noticed that she held her breath until she saw Tito step out onto the ice following Barzal. She smiled and exhaled as her eyes stayed glued to him. 

She couldn’t help but notice the difference in him. His face was devoid of expression and his eyes focused on the ice in front of him as the group began to make laps around their end of the ice. Gone was the friendly, but somewhat introverted Beauregard that she knew. In place was a determined and focused warrior. Rocky was tempted to bang on the glass when Barzal took a position in front of her seats to begin his stretches. She decided against creating a potential awkward moment. Instead she searched for Tito, she found him on the opposite side of the ice, stretching as well.

A high pitched squeal of "Barzy" penetrated the air and he leisurely looked over his shoulder to find the source. A gaggle of college girls stood behind Rocky holding a sign that said "Barzy- You can go 5 hole on us." He smirked and shook his head before noticing Rocky, who very obviously focused on something that had her complete attention. He had a hunch on the object of her focus. It was confirmed when he followed her sight line that went straight to Tito. 

He almost shouted across the ice, but thought better of it. Instead he waited, they stood next to each other for a drill. "Hey Tito, why didn't you say anything about Rocky being here tonight," Barzal remarked casually, "Those are better seats than we normally get to give away. Did you ask for extra nice ones for her?"

Tito's head spun around in surprise, "What? Where?"

Barzal pointed to Rocky's location. Tito looked and saw her staring in his direction. He felt his stomach flip while a smile spread across his face. He waved shyly and Rocky felt her face flush.

"Did that player just wave at you?" Kelly asked. He turned to Rocky who waved back to Tito before she turned to face him. 

“Yeah, I know him from the shop,” she answered evasively. Immediately she felt a pang of guilt hit. Between her earlier fascination and not completely honest answer, she walked the boundary of both her relationship with Kelly AND Tito. She added, “I actually did a tattoo for him a couple of weeks ago.” 

“Oh,” Kelly turned to assess the hockey player, “So that’s why your schedule has blown up recently. You are tattooing ‘celebrities’ these days. Good for you.”

Rocky turned to Kelly with her arms folded. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Did I say that it was a bad thing?” Kelly questioned incredulously. 

The couple stood and stared at each other.. The stare down lasted long enough to attract Tito’s attention. His eyes widened slightly when Rocky’s angry expression registered. He started skating before his brain engaged. A guttural instinct took over. Someone had upset his Raquelle and that- it was just unacceptable. He hit the boards immediately in front of Kelly with enough force to knock Kelly’s beer off the ledge he had left it sitting on. The beer splashed Kelly’s jeans while the sound of the hit reverberated through the area. Kelly looked down at his pants, then to Tito who stared him down on the other side of the glass. “Hey!” Kelly yelled as Tito looked at Rocky who stood with her jaw dropped. 

Her mind raced to imagine a justification for Tito’s actions and she could find none. Her look of confusion felt like a stab in the heart to Tito. Rocky turned to Kelly who burst out laughing. The reaction of the crowd in the section was the rousing cheer of approval and amusement. Tito winked at Rocky before he skated off to the bench. “Hey Jake,” Tito called the equipment manager, “You have any money?”

“Why?” the assistant equipment yelled back.

“I knocked that guy’s beer over. I need to buy him another one,” Tito explained.. “Come on, you know I am good for it,” Tito cajoled. Jack turned to delegate the task to one of the team interns when Tito yelled again. 

As he made his request, Jake looked on incredulously. “You owe me, Beau- you owe me,” he laughed as he walked away. 

In the brief time between end of warm-up and puck drop, a hapless team intern came bounding down the steps toward Kelly and Rocky. He stood at the end of the row and yelled down to them. “Hey, Tito bought you a beer to replace the one he knocked over,” the intern said cheerfully as he passed the cup of beer down the row. Then he passed down the large coffee cup and added, “This is for Rocky?” Kelly eyed her suspiciously as Rocky waited for the cup. When she received it, she glanced to get confirmation. It was her ridiculously complicated drink. Tito made someone go to Starbucks and return with a coffee specifically made for her. 

“Can you tell him thank you?” she smiled at the intern. 

“You can tell him yourself,” the intern responded, “He wants me to bring you down to the locker room after the game. Wait here and I will come get you after the third period.” 

“Wow,” Kelly quipped, “That must have been one hell of a tattoo you did for him. You’re getting VIP treatment.”

Later, toward the end of the second period, Rocky leaned forward and intently watched the faceoff taking place in front of her. Kelly had made an early exit to beat the line at the concession stand. The Islanders were in a tight, chippy game against the Dallas Stars- the score tied up at one. Tito lined up against Jamie Benn who acknowledged him with a head nod. Tito looked back over his shoulder and glanced at Rocky but then returned his focus to the task at hand. Benn laughed, “Is that your girl? She looks like fun.” 

Tito responded with a shove to Benn’s chest, “Shut up.” Benn retaliated with a stick poke and a smile- content with the knowledge that he had found a way to get under Tito’s skin. Both resumed position again but began jostling sticks back and forth. When the puck dropped, he used his stick to upend Tito. 

 The move drew the ire of the Islander crowd and Rocky stood up and yelled, “Hey, you can’t do that.” Benn smiled even bigger as Tito got up and launched a shove into his opponent’s chest. The captain grabbed a hold of the stick and they jostled for a few moments before Tito dropped his gloves and reached to pull Benn down into a headlock before he started swinging. He landed several punches before the bigger man was able to pull him down to the ground. Refs separated them. Tito ripped off his helmet as he got back to his feet and shook his head. . 

Benn smiled, sure that he had instigated Tito into a penalty. During a tie game, drawing a penalty was crucial. His smile soon disappeared when he realized that it was he that was getting the extra penalty for his trip. Tito gave him a smile, “Thanks for the power play. It will come in handy.” 

He entered the penalty box casually, sitting down on the bench and placing his helmet beside him. He wiped his face with the towel as Benn yelled from his box. Tito looked over lazily as he caught his breath. “Lucky you,” the captain yelled and pointed. Tito turned around to see Rocky staring intently at him, her brow furrowed slightly. She quickly smiled as he turned around. 

Tito scooted on the bench so that he was closer to her. Suddenly, he forgot where he was and focused on her smile. “Fancy meeting you here, Mon Ami,” he greeted  her. 

“Beauregard…..” she spoke in an exaggerated drawl, “I’m not a hockey expert, but I do believe that you are supposed to stay OUT of the penalty box.”

“Raquelle…..” he began with a little more accent than necessary. Rocky felt her cheeks begin to flush. Tito stared at her face, “If I stayed OUT of the box, then we wouldn’t have this chance to chat. You know that chatting with you is my favorite thing in the world.” Rocky leaned forward and grinned. 

Somewhere in the TV control room, a producer proclaimed, “Are you guys seeing this?” The director looked up as the producer shared the camera view into the Islander penalty box onto the large screen. There, in the picture, were Tito and Rocky shamelessly flirting. Within seconds, the shot was on live TV with the Islanders TV announcers commenting on it. 

“Butch,” Brendan Burke chuckled, “It seems like we have a bit of an off-ice situation happening here.” 

Back in their bubble, Rocky joked, “I knew you were trouble when you walked in…”

Tito retorted, “It’s me. Hi, I’m the problem it’s me.”

“At tea time, everybody agrees,” she finished. 

Back in the control room, one of the female interns shouted out, “Holy shit, they are quoting Taylor Swift to each other.” 

The director yelled, “No fucking way!” He suddenly had visions of a viral moment. The information was relayed to the announcers. 

Tito moved on to another song, “Best believe I’m still bejeweled, When I walk in the room I can still make the whole place shimmer.” 

Rocky picked up, “And when I meet the band, They ask “Do you have a man?” I can still say, ‘I don’t remember’” 

Inside the control room, the announcer's booth and the entire Islanders liveblog tag on Tumblr, people watching were losing their collective minds. Comments flew back and forth- “Do you think he even knows that there is a game still going on? The moment was interrupted by the penalty box attendant who tapped Tito on the shoulder, “Fifteen seconds, dude.” 

Tito’s head spun around and he remembered where he was. He quickly gathered his equipment and stood by the door. He turned to Rocky and smiled. She started “I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you.” 

The door opened and Tito skated onto the ice. He glanced back and saw Kelly returning to his seat. He handed Rocky a bottle of water and she looked like she wanted to melt into the floor. The voice inside Tito's  head finished the lyric, “Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.” He felt the sharp pain in his abdomen like a punch to a gut. It pulled him out of dream-like state and back into the reality of the game. “Use this,” he said to himself, “Use the pain as motivation.” 

His eyes returned to the play and he saw his opening as he gained speed. He knocked Miro Heiskanen off the puck and took it onto his stick. He weaved his way through the two defensemen and circled the net. He passed the puck to Barzal who shot it at the net. Jake Oettinger coughed up a juicy rebound that landed on Tito’s stick. He lifted the puck up and over Oettinger’s shoulder into the net. It took a second for Tito to realize what had just happened. He was swarmed by his teammates as the arena erupted in cheers. 

He looked over to see Kelly pick Rocky into his arms and swing her around. He quickly turned to accept congratulatory pats on the head from his teammates. Rocky’s head spun while in Kelly’s arm to find Tito. When she found him on the bench, she swallowed hard. The focused expression on his face had returned and he stared directly in front of him. It was Rocky’s turn to feel the gnawing ache in her stomach. The period ended and she watched him walk to the tunnel without looking back. 

The Islander locker room buzzed with excitement of the new lead. Round of "Thatta boy, Beau, spread around the room. Tito didn't respond. Instead he replayed his time in the penalty box -the ease of talking to Rocky, the way she pulled him out of the game, the butterflies he felt when he looked into her eyes. He could have stayed lost in that moment for the rest of his life.

His thoughts were interrupted by Anders Lee's voice. "Sooooo who is the girl and can we buy her a beer?" he joked.

"Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you," ran through his head. The memory of her hug with Kelly flashed in his brain. Tito gritted his teeth and shook his head. "She's nobody- just the woman who did my tat," he spit out, 'She's nobody." With that, he got up to find the intern from earlier. Barzal watched in silence before getting up and following him. The rest of the team looked at each other in confusion. 

Barzal caught up as Tito finished his conversation. "Are you sure" the intern asked. Tito nodded his head.

"Sure about what?" Barzal questioned.

"Sure that I don't want her to come down after the game," Tito answered emphatically.

"Why?" Barzal questioned as they walked back to the room.

"Because I said so dumbass," Tito muttered as he put on his gear.

Upstairs,the intern made his way to Rocky's seats. Kelly looked confused when the intern gently explained, "Tito is not going to be able to see you after the game after all. There is a mandatory team meeting that he can't miss." 

Rocky blinked. She knew it was a lie but didn't want to argue or appear too eager to see Tito.. "Oh okay- well, tell him that I will see him around I guess.” She tried to hide the disappointment on her face, but Kelly knew her well enough to spot the fake smile. They rode in uncomfortable silence back to their apartment. 

Later in bed, they faced opposite walls with their backs to each other. “So that’s who you've been texting recently?” Kelly asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” she said softly, “He has been teaching me about hockey.”

"Clearly it worked. You were really focused on the game. I am glad you had a good time. You deserved it." Kelly yawned "Good night Rox. Love you."

"Ditto, Kels," she replied softly. Rocky's phone began to buzz. She picked it up.

Daisy: Girl…

Rocky: What?

Daisy: You're viral.

Rocky: What? How?

Daisy sent her the link to SportCenter and the segment about Tito's time in the penalty box. Rocky watched in a combination of sweet memory and horror. She thought back to what she felt in the moment. The feeling had been so pure and she struggled to name it. It finally dawned on her- joy. 

"What's the problem with joy?" She asked herself as the dread and horror spread around her body. It had been so long since she had experienced true joy. She couldn't remember when the last time was. One thing she knew that it wasn't with Kelly- the person who she should share joy with.

She looked back at Kelly with a wistful look. "I have to be better," she said to herself, "He deserves better." She rolled over and watched the clip again. The feeling of joy returned as she watched Tito's face and a thought popped into her head, "Don't you deserve better?" She pursed her lips and turned off her phone.

Barzal/Beauvillier condo- Long Island

"Fuck you, I would have made that shot,," Tito yelled out to no one in particular as the NHL22 game played. Barzal gave him a side eye and continued playing the video game.

After Tito added "motherfucker,"  Barzal paused the game. Tito protested meekly before Barzal cut him off, “What in the hell is your problem dude?”

“I don’t have a problem,” Tito countered. 

“Don’t lie to me Beau. It insults my intelligence,” Barzal challenged. Tito began a pithy response, but stopped when he saw his roommate’s expression. The concern was apparent and completely out of character for Barzal. “Does it have something to do with Rocky?” Barzal asked quietly. Tito leaned back and let out an exaggerated sigh. “I am going to take that as a yes,” Barzal continued, “Want to talk about it?”

“There is nothing to talk about. I misread her signals,” Tito spit out, “I thought there might be something there, but clearly I am wrong.” 

“I am not so sure about that dude,” Barzal sighed. The brunette turned and studied his roommate's face. He pondered his next words carefully.   "Look, I was going to wait and let you find out tomorrow, but there is something that you need to see." He pulled out his phone and started the video of Tito and Rocky from the penalty box.

Tito smiled involuntarily at Rocky as his finger went caress her face on the phone screen. He wanted to push the feeling down but it swept over him like a tidal wave. Barzal chuckled, "Dude, you have it bad. You are so into her."

"Too bad she isn't into me," Tito whined.

"Look, she may have a boyfriend, but she is into you," Barzal countered. Tito began to shake his head but Barzal interjected, "Look at her face when she looks at you. She desn't look at her boyfriend that way. I watched her during the game. Trust me there is something there, Beau. It wasn’t just during your penalty. Her eyes were on you the entire game.."

"So what should I do? She has a boyfriend," Tito asked.

"Be patient until she figures it out," Barzal suggested, “I don’t know much but I know that she doesn’t look at him the way she looks at you.”

"So business as usual?" Tito asked. Barzal nodded his head. "One Sec," Tito held up his hand. He reached for his phone and typed a quick text to Rocky,

Tito: Hey sorry we couldn't connect after the game, but it was great to see you. 

Rocky: I thought you were mad at me.

Tito: Never mon ami

Rocky: You sure?

Tito: 100% sure 

Rocky: You wouldn't lie to me, would you Beaugard?

Tito: Raquelle, you wound me 

Rocky: Sweet dreams. Great game by the way

Tito: Thanks- good night

Three days later-INKED ON ICE Tattoo Shop

Rocky tidied her work station and eyed the door.  She had received a terse text from Kelly during her last appointment that simply said "We need to talk. I am working at Starbucks. Let me know when you can chat.” She responded with an equally terse "It will be fifteen minutes as I finish up. It can't wait until tonight?"

"No- I don't want to have this conversation after midnight," was the response.

Precisely fifteen minutes later, Rocky looked up when she sensed his presence and their eyes locked. Her soft smile was met with pursed lips. "Hey," she said as she kissed his cheek before he settled into his seat. His hands held a to-go coffee cup that she was certain contained her order to perfection. "What's up?" she asked casually.

Kelly studied her next design before he sat down. His eyes looked at her askance. His mouth opened and shut several times. With each time, Rocky felt a knot in her stomach develop. "Rocky….." he began, "...... you know I love you. I have loved you since kindergarten when you walked up to me, the new kid, and announced that we were going to be best friends." Rocky smiled at the memory. He continued, "You were the girl, Rocky. You were the girl I was going to love forever. You were my past, you were my present, and you were going to be my future."

Rocky gulped, "Were?"

Kelly swallowed hard, "Yes, were. You have to know that we haven't been working for a while. We lead completely different lives with completely different goals. I don't think it's fixable, Rox. I don't think we can make it work now.

"Kelly, I love you. You know that. There is no one I love more than you," Rocky gasped. 

"I know, Rox. I love you too. You are my favorite person but somewhere along the way, we fell out of love with each other. It doesn't make you the bad guy and it doesn't make me the bad guy. We are just two best friends whose lives are on separate tracks," he spoke in a hushed tone. "I tried to ignore it but I can't anymore. I deserve to be in love and you deserve to be in love.” Rocky stared at the ground as his words sunk into her soul. Her head popped up when he said, “Honestly, I think you are in love."

Rocky stood up, "What are you talking about? There isn't anyone but you. You think I am cheating on you?"

"Tito," he stared into her eyes, "I saw it when I saw the video."

"We were just goofing off and being silly," she exclaimed.

“During a game? A game that he is passionate about?” Kelly countered, "And when was the last time we goofed off like that?" Kelly sighed, “I can’t ignore the evidence. I mean it went viral.” 

"I didn’t mean for it to go viral," she countered weakly, “We’re friends I swear. Nothing else. He just gets me. Kelly- he and I are just friends.”

"I believe that you think that," he stood up to walk to her, "I believe that you are doing everything in your power to honor your commitment to me. You are denying what your heart is telling you."

"And what do you think it's telling me?” she whispered.

"That you are not in love with me anymore and if I were out of the picture, you would fall in love with him," he reached for her hand. "Look, I could tell at the game. It's there and I would be a fool to try to deny it."

"I don't want to hurt you," she cried, "I don't want to break your heart."

Kelly intertwined his fingers into hers. "It would break my heart to settle for less than we deserve. You deserve to be in love. You deserve someone who wants the crazy lives you two lead." He stopped and inhaled, "And I deserve someone who wants the white picket fence, the PTA and the ordinary life I crave. I deserve someone in love with me." 

Tears streamed down Rocky's face, "I'm sorry."

Kelly wiped her tears with his thumbs, "Don't be. Don't be sorry for being you. I love you. I love you enough to set us free."

"I love you, Kelly," she leaned her forehead into his chest, "I'll always love you."

"I know, but now it's time to love each other from a distance," he kissed the top of her head, "One day we can be best friends again."

"I would like that," she looked up at him, "So we're over? We're really over?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "at least as lovers."

Out in the lobby, Tito held his finger up to his lips as he entered the shop to keep Daisy from announcing his arrival. In his hand, he held a large coffee and protein box. He turned the corner and stopped in his tracks. Kelly stood with his arms wrapped around Rocky’s back. Her face was nuzzled into his neck. Tito’s body lurched like he had been punched in the stomach. “I love you Rox,” Kelly smiled as he set her down and kissed the top of her head. He then turned around to walk past Tito. He glanced at Tito, who stood frozen, and smiled. Rocky watched the exchange in numb silence. Tito watched Kelly leave the shop and then turned his head to look at Rocky. She gave him a soft smile. Internally, Tito’s mind raced. He didn’t have an agenda when he decided to drop by and see Rocky, but he certainly didn’t expect to witness such a tender moment. “Snap out of it, Beauvillier,” he told himself, “You got the wrong idea. She has a boyfriend- one that she loves even if you can't make it make sense to your brain.” 

“Hey Beauregard,” she stepped toward, “To what do I owe this surprise?” She fought to keep the tears out of her eyes and her voice smooth and steady. They exchanged a look and Rocky watched as Tito’s expression hardened before her. 

“I, uhhhhh, was in the neighborhood, “ he began. He couldn’t think of a singular good reason why he would be here that didn’t involve a fervent desire to kiss her. So like all good men when forced to face an uncomfortable emotion, he lied. “I wanted to be sure that you were still eating,” he stammered, “You need to eat so you can keep doing good tattoos. I vouched for you and uhhhhhh, I don’t want anyone who listened to me to be disappointed by a sucky tattoo because your blood sugar level dropped.” 

He thrust the coffee and food into her hands. Before she could protest, he was half-way to an escape. “Thanks for the coffee, Beauregard,” she called out to him. She could see his body flinch but he kept moving. Rocky watched in despair as he made his retreat. 

What had happened? After their post-game chat, Tito had been reserved but still friendly. Now he was running away because of why she did not know.  Rocky replayed Kelly’s words in her brain. “If I were out of the picture, you would fall in love with him,” he had said. She sighed bitterly and added, “Yeah, but Kels, clearly he will not fall in love with me.”

 She turned to walk back into her section and looked around. She had two consultations and three appointments scheduled. She went to her table and sat down. She started the music but quickly turned it off when the starting notes of “Lover” began. Impulsively, she picked up her sketchbook and threw it across the room. Loose papers and notes tucked into it scattered on the floor. “Whoa,” JD whistled as he entered her section, “What happened here?” 

Rocky got down on her hands and knees to gather the papers to her chest. She placed her hand on a blank piece of paper and flipped it over. It was Tito’s tattoo design. Tears filled her eyes and she sat back on her heels. JD looked at the paper and then back at Rocky. Her face dissolved into tears. “Rocky?” he questioned, “What happened?” 

"Kelly broke up with me," she cried.

"What? Why?" JD resigned himself to getting down on the floor and sat next to her.

Rocky wiped her nose with her arm. "He wants sunshine and I am midnight rain," she explained to JD as if he would understand. The words brought Tito to her mind and she started sobbing again. "Beauregard would understand," she thought to herself. 

JD sat patiently and waited for a break in the sobs. He had not been sure when Rocky had shown up at the shop, boldly asking for an apprenticeship. He found himself unable to say no despite the fact that had never mentored anyone before her, something he had taken great pride in. However in the almost year later, they had formed a unique friendship despite their age difference. 

"I am going to assume that was some sort of Taylor Swift reference," he said drolly, "Care to explain it to the non-Swiftie?"

"He was this whole corporate life with the house in the suburbs and PTA wife," she sighed. "I was going to try to make it work," she continued, "but things changed and he didn't want to try anymore." 

"You mean he didn't want to try to force a relationship with a woman clearly in love with another man?" he asked gently. Her jaw dropped and she started to protest. "I saw Beauvillier leave," he added.

"Yeah, you saw him leave. He couldn't get out of here fast enough," she cried, "Clearly he isn't interested."

"I think the evidence points to the contrary," JD countered, "but his loss if that's true." They sat in silence for a few minutes. "You know, I think you are ready to end the apprenticeship."

Her head shot up, "Getting dumped twice in one day. That has to be a record."

"I am not DUMPING you. I am telling you that you have freedom to choose your next path," he explained. "You are ready, Rocky," he nudged her shoulder.

"You think I am ready to go solo, really?" Rocky asked in earnest, "What if I fail?"

"I have a feeling that you are going to fly," he leaned over and kissed the top of her head.

"What should I do about Tito?" She asked.

"I think that you shouldn't go from one man to another. If you are going to go solo, then go solo," JD spoke, "but potentially? Yeah, I saw you on Sportscenter and ship it. That's the right word, right?"

"You're learning, old man," Rocky joked.

 Daisy poked her head in the room, "Ummmm, I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I overheard about Kelly." Rocky looked up at her. "I canceled the rest of your day and tomorrow," Daisy added, "Pack up your stuff. I am taking you home and we're having a meeting of the 'Boys are stupid and they suck' committee. No arguments, Rocky. We are going to laugh and we are going to cry until you don't need to anymore." Rocky's eyes filled with tears. "See, you've already started." 

Hours later, Rocky stood in the guest bathroom of Cameron and Daisy's large home. She looked at her face. Her eyes were puffy from tears but she felt a wave of peace wash over her body. Daisy and she had discussed her future and what she wanted. As much as she felt a pull toward Tito, she could not shake the feeling that she needed time. JD was right. She couldn't jump from one man to another man. Rocky had spent her entire adult life committed to Kelly. It was time to spread her wings and fly. She felt confident that even if she crashed and burned that she was strong enough to make it on her own. 

She took a deep breath and picked up her phone. She noticed two things- no communication from Tito and a text from Kelly. She opened the text and smiled, "Rox, I miss you already but know that our destiny lies as best friends. I will be here waiting to see where your destiny takes you. You are capable of greatness. I'll love you forever."

She typed out her response to Kelly. Then she hit the dial button.

"Hey Rocky,” the voice on the other end answered.

"Is that job offer still good?" Rocky asked. 

"Yes, are you considering it?" The voice asked.

"If you still want me," Rocky responded.

"Pack your bags. I have a guest house you can use until you get settled. Can you be here in a week?" Cat smiled.

"See you then," Rocky smiled.

STATE OF GRACE

A WEEK LATER- ISLANDERS PRACTICE FACILITY

"Hey Tito," Kelly called to him as he exited the ice after practice.

Tito stopped and stared, "What the fuck does he want?" He thought to himself. 

Kelly held out a cardboard tube and Tito, "It's from Rocky."

"A delivery? From Rocky?" He called back, "Why didn't she deliver it herself?"

"I think you know why," Kelly replied dryly. Tito thought about the multiple texts and calls from her that he had ignored. "Just read the card," Kelly added before he turned to walk away.

Tito ripped the card open and read it quickly. 

Beauregard-

I hope this note finds you well. This is not the way I wanted to tell you but I am moving.

Tito's eyes snapped up, "You two are moving?"

"No, just her," Kelly explained. Tito tilted his head in question. "We broke up last week. In fact, the day I saw you at the shop, " Kelly added.

Tito thought back to the day. He had been so quick to jump to the wrong conclusion. "You idiot," he told himself, "You fucking idiot." He continued to read.

I tried texting and calling several times, but those have not been returned. I have decided to make a fresh start in a new city. All of my adult life has been bending myself and sacrificing my dream to allow Kelly to pursue his dream. I am going to some place brand new and testing my wings to see if I can fly on my own.

Tito smiled to himself, "Oh mon ami, Raquelle, you can fly. Oh how high you will fly."

I am sad to leave you and our friendship. I didn't want to leave without saying two things. First, I am thankful that fate brought us together as friends. Your friendship reminded me who I am, the part of me that I had hidden away to fit into the mold of what Kelly wanted and needed. I am Midnight Rain and that's okay. Thank you for accepting me and all my quirks. Not only did you accept them- you embraced them which helped me embrace them too. 

Second- I am thankful for the joy that you brought back to me. It had been so long since I felt the joy that I felt with you. I love you, Beauregard. I don't believe that our journey is over. In fact I think that you are just at the beginning of a wonderful life full of adventure and more importantly, love. You will bring so much joy  to the life of the woman who you love and she will be so lucky. So long for now. In the words of our Queen Taylor- "And when you find everything you looked for, I hope your life leads you back to my door. Goodbye, Mon Ami." 

He pulled out the sketch of his tattoo out of the cardboard tube. She had written- "Never forget the joy of hockey. Keep it in your heart forever just like I will keep the joy of you in my heart forever." 

"Goodbye Mon Amour," Tito whispered as he placed the drawing back into the cardboard tube, "No, not goodbye-see ya later."

THREE MONTHS LATER- BEAN AROUND THE WORLD COFFEE SHOP-VANCOUVER

The coffee shop was crowded with the morning rush. The barista greeted Rocky with a smile. In the three months since she had moved to  Vancouver, she had become a regular so there was no need to give her order.

"So what's your day look like?" Lauren, the barista from England, asked cheerfully. 

"I have an easy day today. Only two appointments and a consultation," Rocky answered with a grin.

"Ahhhh," Lauren winked as she rolled her sleeve so her new tattoo was prominently on display, "I'll advertise for walk-ins." Since getting inked by Rocky, Lauren had fed a steady stream or referrals over to the tattoo shop. The large black and gray realistic wolf was a showstopper and customers complimented her on it daily. 

"Keep that up and I'll have to give you a discount on that sleeve we discussed," Rocky quipped.

"Don't tempt me," the Brit joked. Rocky moved down to the pick up counter to wait for her drink. She faced away from the crowd and studied her phone.

Further down the line, Elias Pettersson stood with his new linemate. They had just completed a practice and workout. "So you are set in your airBNB?" The Swedish superstar asked, “No issues?”

Tito looked up as they moved up to the counter, "Yeah, I'm all set." Tito had been traded to Vancouver earlier in the week in a trade that the hockey media dubbed "The Bo for Beau exchange".  His first game was the next night, "I really like the area. It's got a cool vibe." Canucks players segregated themselves - the married players sought the comforts of the suburbs while the single guys stayed close to the active nightlife by the arena.

"What can I get you, Petey?" Lauren asked the Swede. After he gave his simple order, she turned to Tito, "and you?"

Tito rattled off his order, "Unsweet iced coffee with an extra shot with skim milk, 2 pumps of sugar free vanilla syrup, 2 Splenda and light caramel drizzle."

Lauren looked up in disbelief. What were the odds that TWO people would have that same, very specific coffee order? "Can you repeat that?" she asked. Just then the other barista that made the coffees called, "Order for Rocky." 

Tito shook his head in disbelief. Surely he had misheard. They hadn't said Rocky and if they did, it couldn't be HIS Rocky. He turned to see the petite pixie walking toward the door. Her hair was now a pastel pink but there was no mistaking that it was indeed HIS Rocky. He immediately chastised himself, "You have no claim on her, especially with the way she had left." Undeterred, he started weaving his way through the crowded shop while his mind raced. She was here in Vancouver. He was here in Vancouver. His path was blocked at every step. He stopped and yelled "Raquelle!"

She stopped and turned. It sounded like Tito but it made no sense. Why would he be in Vancouver? "No," she told herself as searched the sea of faces unsuccessfully, "You're imagining things." She turned back around and headed down the crowded street. 

Tito felt the air leave his lungs when she turned at the sound of his voice. She was here. It felt like a dream so he gave chase. Petersson  called after him, "Beau!!" The call landed on deaf ears as Tito made it out to the street.

Fifteen minutes later, a dejected Tito entered the coffee shop. He found Petey sitting at a small table with a bemused smile on his face. "Where did you take off to?" The platinum blonde asked as he handed Tito his coffee.  

"A girl," Tito spoke breathlessly,  "A girl I knew from Long Island."

"Let me guess. Her name is Rocky?" The Swede said although he had pieced together some info.

Tito took the coffee and sat down, “Yeah. I can’t believe she is here. What are the odds that we would be here at the same time?” 

“So this girl- is she an ex or something?” Petersson.

Tito paused before answering, “It’s complicated.”

Petersson raised a single eyebrow, “Men and women are not that complicated unless you make it complicated.”

“She’s the one that got away,” Tito sighed.

“So go after her,” the Swede replied. 

“You saw me try. She vanished. I searched, but if I didn’t know better, I would think she was a figment of my imagination. 

Now that the rush had subsided, Lauren walked through the shop- straightening tables and greeting customers. “Who is a figment of your imagination?” the beautiful brunette asked with a smile. 

Petersson answered, “The elusive Rocky who apparently is the owner of Beau’s heart.”

“You know Rocky?” she replied in her delightful accent, “it makes sense now.”

“Wait, what makes sense?” Tito questioned. 

“It makes sense you know each other. You have the same coffee order,” Lauren pondered, “You are the only two people with that order.”

“You KNOW Rocky?” Tito practically jumped out of his seat, “So she is a regular here? She LIVES here in Vancouver?”

“She moved here a few months back. She’s been a regular since starting at the tattoo shop- Pink Ink,” she answered, “She did my wolf.” She held out her arm for Tito to examine. 

Tito looked down and studied the tattoo. It was Rocky’s work all right. There was no mistaking her technique. He could tell immediately it was her design and work.  He head spun with this newfound information. Electricity ran through his body. Rocky- his Raquelle- was here. She was so close he could feel her pull him to her like a magnet pulling a piece of metal.

 Lauren studied him quietly but the realization hit her. “Wait a minute! You’re the guy from that video. The hockey one with the penalty box. Bloody hell, that’s you?….. And she’s the gal, right?” she exclaimed.  Tito smiled and nodded his head yes. 

“But that doesn’t mean anything now,” Tito said, suddenly filled with apprehension. They hadn’t ended on good terms. Well, more specifically he had acted like an idiot. What if she had moved on already? What if she had sworn off men altogether? Did he still have a chance?

When Tito looked up, she saw the questions in his eyes. “She said she had unfinished business in Long Island with a guy. I didn’t recognize her with the new hair. By the looks of it, her unfinished business must be you.” Tito’s jaw dropped when she continued, “Don’t just stand there. This is True Love. You think this happens every day?”

“Princess Bride!” Petersson exclaimed- proud that he caught the pop culture reference. Tito glared at him. “What? I am a man of many layers,” the Swede continued. 

“Where is that shop?” Tito interrupted as he stood up and started walking towards the door. “What’s the name of it?” He heard her answer, Pink Ink, and Googled as he walked. He smiled when he realized how close the shop was and hit the call button on his phone. 

Rocky puttered around her station, getting ready for the day. She overheard Emily, the receptionist, answer the phone. “Pink Ink where we specialize in sarcasm, good tattoos and fighting the patriarchy. How can I help you?”

“Hi….uhhhh,” Tito stammered, “I’d like to get a tattoo. I have heard good things about a Rocky?” 

“Oh yeah, Rocky? She’s one of the best,” Emily answered, “When did you want to come in??” Rocky stopped in her tracks to listen to the conversation. 

“Now?” Tito hesitated. 

“Sure, I’ll let her know that she has someone coming in,” the receptionist responded. “Can I get a name? Okay, great- see you soon.” Emily got up and walked to Rocky’s room. “Hey you have basically a last minute tattoo.” Rocky nodded her head in understanding as she finished lighting her candles and started her playlist. “Yeah, some guy named Beauregard,” Emily called as she headed back to the front. 

Rocky spun around and walked out to the hallway, “I’m sorry. What did you say the name was….” Her head turned as the front door chimed and the door opened. “Did you say Beauregard?” Rocky questioned. Tito walked in and Rocky’s jaw dropped. 

“Raquelle!” he exclaimed as he walked in, “Fancy meeting you here.” 

Rocky stood frozen in disbelief. She willed her mouth to say something. She willed her body to move. “Do something!” her mind screamed, “Do something.” She watched him walk towards in what felt like slow motion. Suddenly the message hit the message center of the neurons that controlled her body and her body launched into motion. She sprinted to him and threw herself into his waiting arms. 

“Beauregard,” she cried out, “What are you doing here?”’ Her brain raced for answers. “Do you have a game here? How did you find me?” she quizzed, “I don’t care. I don’t care. You’re here.”

“Well, you did say you hope my life leads me back to your door. So here I am,” he laughed as he swung her around. When he stopped to keep from getting dizzy, they stared at each other. Breathless, they stayed glued to each other- their lips nearly touching. 

Rocky’s eyes scanned his face. His bright blue eyes sparkled as she searched for any clue as to his thoughts or feelings. Internally, she questioned “What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if he is just glad to see his friend?” The doubtful thought was immediately met with the equally loud thought, “Take the chance, Rocky- take the chance.” She brought lips to his lips in a tentative kiss. The electricity jolted through their bodies and together, they deepened the kiss. 

“Mon Amour,” he moaned, “Raquelle, mon amour.” They kissed in the hallway, oblivious to their surroundings. 

Finally, Rocky broke the kiss and he set her down gently. She took his hand to guide him to her room. When they stepped inside, she turned to him and asked, “Wait, did you say Mon Amour?”

“Yes, I did,” he pulled her to him, “Rocky, I love you. I have loved you from the moment you shot me down and told me that you saw a whole world hidden behind my eyes.”

“But I live here now, Beauregard,” she protested. 

“So do I,” he kissed her, “So do I.”

“Wait, what?” she questioned, “You live here? In Vancouver?”

“Oui, I was traded earlier this week. Life literally brought me to your door, or coffee shop, to be exact.” he answered. When she looked confused, he told her the story about their almost meeting at the coffee shop. 

It was Rocky’s turn to kiss him, “Remind me that I owe Lauren that sleeve.”

“I owe her everything,” he smiled.

“Did you really want a tattoo or was that a ploy?” she smiled as she studied his face. 

“I definitely want a tattoo,” he laughed. 

“Oh?” she took a step back. 

He pulled up his shirt and pointed to his chest. “I am thinking of getting Raquelle right above my heart in a fancy script. Think you can do that?”

“I mean it’s the kiss of death for relationships. How long have you been with this Raquelle?” she mocked. 

“For about sixty seconds, but I have a good feeling about her,” he teased. 

“Maybe you should at least wait until after your first date,” she poked his chest before inhaling sharply as she caught sight of his abs. 

“That’s a good idea. I have an idea for the perfect first date,” he quipped as they fell into the easy rhythm of their banter. 

“What’s that?” she quipped back. 

“Have you ever heard of Taylor Swift?” he laughed, “She has a concert this summer near here. You might like her.”

Rocky laughed, “You are going to make me wait until July for our first date? So rude.”

“Fine,” he kissed her before he continued, “How about hockey? I know a guy who can get you into the Canucks game tonight.”

“Perfect first date,” she returned his kiss. Suddenly the words of JD rang in her head- Don’t jump from one man to another. Rocky pushed off of his chest and took several steps back. 

“Raquelle?” he questioned, “Did something happen?”

Rocky studied him for a moment, trying to verbalize her thoughts. "Beauregard, I like my life. I have a good job. I have good friends. I worked hard to create a life that makes me happy, and I am absolutely not changing it to fit into yours no matter how much I adore you."

"Raquelle, I don't want you to change anything for me. You're perfect exactly the way you are. Don't change a thing."

"I mean it Beau. I am not giving up my passion for you,"  she says as he inched toward her.

"I would be disappointed if you did," he said and took another step.

"You're really here in Vancouver?" she said, “Like for real?”

"Yes, I am," he said. 

“And you want to be with me?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, I do. I want it more than anything I have ever wanted before,” he continued. He placed his hand on her cheek as she smiled, "It looks like all along there was some invisible string tying you to me."

"You think quoting her majesty Queen Taylor will help your case?" she whispered as he stood inches from her mouth.

"I would call on the hockey gods if I thought it would help me," he smiled.

"Shut up and kiss me," she started to quip back. 

"Yes, Raquelle, yes Mon Amour" he cooed before he kissed her.

[drewsbuzzcut]

https://www.tumblr.com/drewsbuzzcut/749685781506015232/model-reader-will-also-be-going-to-the-met-gala

Mat and Tito so proud of their girls

Yes they are! And the girls looks sooooo good

[matbaerzal]

Mat Barzal | 01.19.20 | NYI @ CAR

[cowboybarzy]

Sick Day

mat barzal x reader

word count: 1.2k

note: this isn’t the best, so sorry, but I wanted to get rid of it, it’s been in my drafts a bit

You tossed and turned all night switching between sweating an unbelievable amount and freezing despite the large comforter on top of you. Your throat hurt and your nose was stuffed. Great. But you were too exhausted to get some medicine since your bones and skin aches any time you moved. Your boyfriend Mat was sleeping soundly next to you. He was such a deep sleeper you were pretty sure he could sleep through an earthquake while a tornado was simultaneously raging. You didn't want to wake him considering he got home very late last night from a game, has early morning practice today and then another game tomorrow. He needed his sleep and it wasn't much longer until his alarm went off. So you tried going back to sleep and actually were able to get another hour of sleep before the horrible ringing of Mat's alarm woke you.

Of course he didn't wake up so you resorted to lightly kicking him in the side. You head was pounding enough as it is, you really didn't need that sound. "Maty!", you groaned trying to wake him up without much energy in your body. Finally he reached to his nightstand to turn the alarm off. Then he rolled over to pull you into a hug.

"Sorry. Gd’Morning." His lips brushed your forehead and suddenly he was sitting up and his hand on your forehead. "Oh my god babe, you're burning up."

You nodded sleepily. "I don't feel good."

"What happened? What hurts?" He gently stroked your face and pulled you closer to him.

"Everything. My skin, throat, head." Your words were barely a whisper. You were able to open your eyes for a little bit. Mat looked concerned as he continued to stroke your cheek. He pressed his lips to your forehead.

"Aw, baby, I'm so sorry. I'm gonna go get some medicine." He pulled the blanket bank and got out of bed, but made sure to wrap the blanket back around you. When he came back he had some Tylenol and a thermometer in his hand. "103.4. There's an upside down smile face so that can't be good. Sit up for a second so you can swallow the pill." He helped you sit up and placed the Tylenol in your mouth before handing you the glass of water on your nightstand. You took a few sips and then had Mat help you lay back down. The amount of pain you were in and exhaustion you felt could only be described as dead. "You cold?" You nodded and Mat came to your rescue with an extra blanket and hoodie. He laid with you for a while holding you, while you drifted in and out of sleep. He eventually got up to make breakfast and get ready for his upcoming practice.

"Hey. I gotta go." You stirred slightly when you felt Mat sit down on the mattress and press a kiss to your forehead. You nodded, too tired to actually respond. "Oh god, no. Actually no, I can't leave you here alone."

"It's fine."

"No it's not. What if something happens? No, you know what? I don't have to go. I played well yesterday. I can take a day off." You put your hand over his that was cradling your face and gave him a little smile.

"It's fine. I'll be sleeping the whole time anyway. It's just a few hours. You have to."

"What if there's an emergency?"

"Won't be. It's ok." With your tired eyes you tried to convince him. You really meant it, considering that the medicine started to kick in and all you wanted to do was sleep. You rolled over to you side after giving his hand a squeeze letting him know you were really fine with it. He was conflicted because he knew how strict his schedule was but he also didn't want to leave you sick in bed.

"Crap. Tito is here. Ok fine, I'll go. But I'll try to get out early. I can do my workout here when I'm closer to you just in case. I'll also have my phone with me at any point so call if you need me. I refilled you water and breakfast is here too." You nodded and smiled thankfully. He leaned over and gave you a kiss. "I love you. I don't want to do this."

"I know. I love you."

"Okay. Sleep well, I'll be back in a little bit." He gave you one last kiss before making his way out the door. Of course you'd rather have him here with you, but there wasn't much flexibility for him to skip practice and play the next day. Too tired to worry, you fell asleep.

*****

You woke up to something wet and heavy on your forehead. Confused you reached up to feel what the foreign object was.

"You're awake, thank god. I was getting worried." When you opened your eyes you saw Mat leaning over you. "How are you feeling?"

You shrugged and cleared your throat before speaking. "Fine. A little better maybe. I thought I told you to go to practice."

"I did. I've been back for an hour." He scooted down on the bed so he was now laying beside you instead of sitting. He pulled what turned out to be a wet towel on your forehead away from you and threw it beside him. "You want another one?" You shook your head and were so grateful when he opened his arms for a hug. You immediately moved to press yourself against him and bury your head in the small of his neck. His strong arms held you steady in place, his hands sliding up and down your back. You laid like this for a while, the warmth of his body making feel a lot better.

"I made you soup. You want some? You didn't eat your breakfast", Mat asked eventually.

"Soup?"

"Yeah, chicken noodle. It'll make you feel better."

"You made me soup?" You tilted you head so you could see him. A small smile on your lips.

"Of course. You're sick, I have to take care of you." His lips brushed your forehead. "I made it from scratch. You proud?" He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned wide. "I had my mom send me a recipe." You smiled and reached up to kiss him.

"Thank you." He kissed you again and then got up to get you both a bowl of the soup he made. It was a little too salty, but not bad and you actually finished the entire bowl despite not being very hungry. You watched a movie (well three) and cuddled up under the blanket for the rest of the day. He did everything to make you feel better and you were so grateful for him. He knew how to take care of you and didn't hesitate to kiss any part of you he could reach. He helped you take a shower, the steam of the hot shower helping you breathe. He let you watch all the romcoms you wanted and when you fell asleep with your head on his chest you felt so lucky to have him by your side.

[mendeshoney]

you know my weakness is you

author's note: well, you know, every now and then I remember I can write and Mat is the only player I apparently write about anymore, so here we are! this is I think my third (??? yikes) story I've written with an actual FMC character.

this character is a WOC and is plus sized bc...well, that's what I know as a person and it's kinda time I start actually trying to write like it. so let's just pretend there's a world where POC plus sized hockey wags can exist, mkay? i'm also manipulating some of the other wags of the team, so, that is also happening.

tags/warnings in no particular order: 18+, slight angst, enemies to lovers, original female character, WOC character, consensual unprotected sex, spit play, lots of kissing, more unprotected sex

word count: ~ 11,727k

(act two here)

Bruises.

So many bruises.

There were bruises on Summer’s arms and legs. Another on her cheek. All purple and splotchy and not at all good. They looked ugly and marred her brown skin in an unpleasant way that made his stomach churn.

Mat continued to take catalog - scrapes on her knees and elbows, and one on the bit of collarbone he could see before the rest disappeared beneath her white tank top. There was a cut on her head that was covered with a thin bandage, and he could see how part of it ran past her hairline and into her mess of curls. The final injury he clocked that made his composure snap was the cut on her plump bottom lip that made his blood run cold.

What the fuck.

“What the hell happened to you?” Mat demanded. 

He didn’t realize he’d said it out loud, or that it came out so harshly until Summer stopped speaking mid-sentence. His friends’ heads swiveled toward him comically, all of them wearing matching “what the fuck” looks at the level of venom in each syllable.

Summer’s usual smile that she had been wearing as she was speaking had diminished, barely ghosting her lips now, and Mat internally kicked himself as the light that came with it left her eyes slowly. That look, the slightly kicked-puppy one he was so used to her looking at him with, stirred up an ache inside of him this time. 

“She was just telling us about it, asshole.” Sydney spit, Marty frowning slightly at him from where he was wrapped around his wife. 

“I got into an ATV accident.” Summer told him softly, a little slowly as well, and Mat watched the way her lips formed the words, watching how it hurt her a little to speak them with her damaged lip. “I’m okay,” She reassured him quickly. “It looks worse than it is.”

His hands curl into fists at his sides. “How?” He demanded again. 

Mat remembers, briefly, that when he last spoke to Tito, his best friend had mentioned how Summer and that piece of shit boyfriend of hers were going ATV riding with his family. Clearly, clearly, he had to have been at fault, right?

“We flipped over.” Summer says, confirming his suspicions, and seemingly everyone else’s, because she flinches, back tracking a little. “It was an accident.”

Mat scoffs, and Summer’s brown eyes narrow at him. He shakes his head, and before he can say anything else, Anders clears his throat. 

“She’s fine.” He echoes. 

Figures. Mat thinks, scowling. Of course Anders would come to her rescue. 

Summer Maldonado was the younger sister to Sabrina Maldonado, the first Filipino Miss USA and his team captain’s fiance. Sabrina had been the Islanders’ in-arena host up until she began dating Anders in his second season with the team. She’d been everyone’s favorite significant other, as perfect in real life as she was on the pageant stage, and it wasn’t until Summer was legal and Sabrina had deemed Anders’ teammates as mildly gentlemanly that she deemed it okay to start bringing Summer around.

That of course, had been Mat’s rookie year. And for some reason, a reason he can’t quite understand, even though he’d taken one look at Summer that first day and deemed her the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life - caramel skin he imagined tasted as good as it looked, curves that he’d only hoped in his wildest fantasies he’d be able to map with his hands, long brown curly hair he wanted to feel between his fingers, bury his nose in - she’d hated him.

So he hated her too.

And had every day since. 

Except today. Especially not today. Not when she showed up looking like she fought in the main event pay per view of a UFC title bout the night before.

How could he hate her when he wanted to understand how someone could allow her to walk away with all this damage to her precious body? A body he still hoped to worship someday, just once, if he got the chance.

Mat walks away, decides he can’t look at Summer or the god awful damage to her any longer. It makes him feel sick inside, and so he marches into Anders’ kitchen, flings open the fridge with way more force than necessary, and grabs the neck of a beer bottle so tight he pictures it’s the neck of Summer’s shitbag of a boyfriend.

He pops the cap off with a bottle opener and takes a hefty swig, leaning against the kitchen counter and shutting his eyes as he tilts his head up to face the ceiling. 

Mat hears Anders’ sigh as he enters the kitchen, closing the sliding door behind him and joining Mat as he brooded. 

“Don’t give her anymore shit about it, understand?” Anders warns, using his stupid captainly voice that he knows will get Mat under heel.

“Did that dickbag do it?” Mat counters.

“He was there, yes. He was driving the ATV when it flipped, but it was an accident. Sabrina’s already laid into Summer for it.”

At that, Mat’s eyes fly open, and Anders visibly winces. “Why?”

That was definitely a red flag. If it was an accident as everyone had been saying, what was there for Sabrina to be mad about?

Anders knew he fucked up, but instead of admit it, he tried to recover. “Safety.”

“Bullshit.” Mat spit. The bruises on Summer’s skin flashed in his mind, and Mat was certain he’d never be able to get the image out of his brain for the rest of his life. “What did Will do?”

He hated using that idiot’s name.

Anders seemed to hesitate, but at Mat’s fiery gaze, he caved. “He dropped her off at the hospital but he didn’t stick around. Sabrina had to go pick her up from the ER last night.”

Alone. 

Mat’s chest twisted into something wicked. That dead fuck had left Summer alone in the ER after his idiocy, and Summer had the audacity to play it off like…like…

There was something hot and flaming in his veins that gave him half a mind to storm back outside and yell at Summer until she called her sorry excuse of a boyfriend to dump his ass. But as quick as his anger came, Mat forced it away.

What did he care? 

She didn’t even like him. He wasn’t supposed to like her.

He wanted to say a thousand different things to Anders, but didn’t. He stood there, under the scrutiny of his captain’s gaze a little longer, and all he could say was “Whatever.”

~

Summer remembers the day she met Mat.

She remembers how the team had showed up at Anders and Sabrina’s house, how she’d been in Sabrina’s office submitting her final paper for the fall semester of her freshman year at Columbia, how she’d come out of the office at the sound of her name from her sister, and sauntered into the kitchen with a nervous yet shy smile on her face.

There’d only been about four of them, the first group to arrive, and Sabrina hoped that her casual outfit of blue jeans and a white tank top hadn’t been as underdressed as she feared when she spotted him.

Mathew Barzal. The new kid to the team, and according to what she’d been hearing from Islanders fans, the second coming of Jesus to the team. He’d been as handsome as she’d expected, as good looking as the girls at school had said, and Summer was shocked when she found herself under the intensity of his gaze as it ran over her body.

It felt like he’d taken his sweet time when it had maybe only been ten seconds max. Her stomach had churned uncomfortably anyway as he took in his fill, and while Summer had been working on her confidence, had been working on learning to love herself as she was, she suddenly didn’t like how he made her feel the opposite. A guy as gorgeous as that? What else could he be doing when looking at a girl like her except judging? Something ugly reared its head within her, made her feel terrible without reason, so when his eyes finally found hers, she looked away from him dismissively, drawing a line in the sand. 

“They’re nice, but they’re still boys.” Sabrina had told her before they had arrived. “Just don’t let them get to you if they start to bother you.”

Summer took it to heart. Refusing to let Mat Barzal, or any man, get under her skin.

~

Mat scrolls through Instagram aimlessly, resting on Tito’s couch while he waits for him to get ready so they can go get dinner.

As he’s scrolling, he sees a picture Sabrina posted of her and her sister that’s been uploaded fifteen minutes ago. 

It’s a picture from last Spring, he realizes, when he spots the little streak of baby pink hair Summer had under all of her layers. Summer’s hair is straight in the photo, and she’s wearing a long sleeve black dress that cuts off mid thigh, white heels, and she’s sitting next to Sabrina, who’s dressed similarly.

He zeroes in on Sabrina’s caption after getting his fill of Summer and her figure, heart pounding a little as he reads.

“Happy birthday Summer! Thankful to be your sister” Accompanied by a bunch of emojis stares at Mat, and his heart pounds once more.

He doesn’t really think about it when he clicks on the picture that’s tagged with Summer’s account, and clicks on it. The most recent picture is one of Summer from what looks like this morning. 

She’s sitting up in her bed, dressed in a shirt that’s a few sizes too big, hair in a messy bun with some of those curls fallen out and framing her face. The clean and fresh look on her also slightly sleepy face has Mat taking in a slow breath, his eyes trying to commit everything to memory. Her eyes are closed as she smiles, one hand on her cheek bashfully, those beautiful, naturally plump, mauve pink lips stretching into a sleepy smile. 

Damn her.

For all she got on his nerves, for all she irritated him, all the times she’d been a fucking pain in his ass, she still had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

There’s a cake in the photo, resting on her bed in front of her, and balloons next to her bedside. He spots Sabrina’s purse off to the side, figuring she’d surprised Summer and taken the picture.

“Cheers to 24! Thank you to @sabimaldonao for the birthday surprise. Love you always!” 

Mat finds himself commenting “happy birthday curly” and then pressing “Follow,” followed by the quickest exit out of Instagram ever, like he’s about to get caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Tito chooses that moment to decide he’s ready, and Mat screams like a little bitch when Tito says “Ready!” 

It scares Tito, who yells in return, and then Mat chucks a couch pillow at him.

“Why did you throw that at me!”

“Why’d you sneak up on me!” Mat retorts, shooting up from the couch.

His palms are sweaty. Why were his palms sweaty? 

Tito scowls at Mat. “Are you ready or not? I’m starving.”

Mat grumbles. “I’m not the one who took an hour to get ready, dickhead.”

As they head out to the bank of elevators, Mat pulls out his phone again, careful to expose the screen to Tito as he heads back into Instagram to see if Summer responded.

She didn’t. And she also didn’t follow him back yet.

It’s fine. Who cares? He reasons. It’s her birthday, you’re just being nice.

He checks again at least three times during dinner, and twice more after he heads home later that night.

Mat’s unreasonably irritated when there’s still nothing.

Who cares? He convinces himself. You don’t.

~

There were five years between Sabrina and Summer, and Summer felt the envy in each of them.

Never in a negative sense. And never because of Sabrina. Absolutely not.

Despite the childhood and teenage years (on both their parts) of them arguing and going through the typical sibling spats, Summer loved her sister more than anything in the world. She remembers being at Sabrina’s first pageant and thinking “my sister is prettier than all of these people.”

Sabrina had been a chubby child, but as she grew, she had shed all that weight through sports, extracurriculars, and was slim and beautiful and maintained the same weight and stature since she was sixteen.

Summer kept the baby fat as she grew, but not to Sabrina’s height, and while she felt puberty wasn’t completely unkind to her, it was clear puberty and her family genes favored Sabrina.

Her relatives showered Sabrina with praise. Always “Maganda ka.” You’re beautiful and “Wala kang kasing ganda!” No one’s prettier than you!

All Summer got was “Ang ganda ng ngiti mo.” You have such a beautiful smile.

Sabrina was everyone’s favorite. And that was okay, she was Summer’s favorite too.

Sabrina wasn’t oblivious or naive, she knew Summer had a tough time, that whenever their Lolo or Lola offered Sabrina seconds at dinner, they denied Summer seconds in the same breath telling her, “You eat anymore and you’ll be as big as a house!” Sabrina had stuck up for Summer many times, but it never really stopped happening to her. 

People loved Sabrina.

They only liked Summer.

So yeah. She had her issues. But she also had her older sister to look up to, idolize, reasonably envy, and confide in.

Sabrina and Anders had gotten engaged last year after Summer finished her Master’s degree. The engagement, which, in Summer’s opinion, had been long overdue, had been a spectacle in itself, and now Sabrina and Anders had finally agreed to sit down and start planning, and their wedding was scheduled to be at the end of the summer.

They’d been living in their house in Bayport since Anders all but begged Sabrina to after they’d been dating about two years, and when they did, Sabrina made Anders swear to her that at least one of their five massive bedrooms would always be reserved for Summer (even though Summer lived in Garden City, less than forty five minutes away.)

Summer agreed to come over every other Saturday this summer to assist Sabrina with planning, and had stayed true to her word, even if it meant seeing more of Anders’ teammates.

Or teammate, to be specific.

Especially not with his recent social media activity.

She’d been shocked to say the least at his happy birthday message. Shock transformed into suspicion when she saw he even followed her on Instagram.

She didn’t say anything back. Didn’t return the follow. Why would she? They weren’t actually friends anyway.

Except, he’d started interacting, or trying to interact, with her. She’d posted a story with a poll for her friends, and when he voted on it (in her favor, though he didn’t know that), she remembered how she’d scrunched her nose in distaste. She posted a picture of her mom’s dog, a mangy little Scottish Terrier she and Sabrina had named “Angus” as teenagers, who had chewed up her Roku remote while dog-sitting him for her parents for the weekend.

Mat had reacted to it with a laughing emoji, and that also went ignored.

She made the mistake of posting another story of the particularly gnarly bruise on her forearm as it was healing, with a text over the picture that read “last time I try to be a daredevil” and Mat had responded to the story with a “next time don’t put yourself in danger while in the presence of idiots.”

Mat grinded on her nerves every chance he got, it seemed, and his insistence on his presence would certainly not help her current predicament.

Even if he may have been right.

After her ATV accident and being left at the hospital, she’d confronted Will and demanded to know why he didn’t come to check on her, or why he hadn’t called or texted to see if she was okay. 

Deep down, Summer knew the answer, knew he didn’t really give a shit about her like he said he did, she just needed to hear it from his mouth. True to form, he’d come up with excuse after excuse, and she’d had enough, calling it quits and telling him she never wanted to see him again.

Was she upset she almost wasted a year of her life with him? Yes. 

Was she upset that he didn’t seem to care about her when she was hurt? Yes. 

Was she upset that he didn’t reach out after their breakup with apologies and roses? 

Also yes.

It didn’t make sense, logically, she knew that. She didn’t want to be with him, sure, but no one had ever really fought for her before, fought to keep her, fought to win her back. And maybe she wanted that, just once, maybe she wanted to be wanted, lusted after, fought for, desired.

A picture of Sabrina from her Miss USA crowning hung from the wall as Summer sat in the computer chair of Sabrina and Anders’ joint office. Next to it, a picture of Anders on one knee, proposing, and next to that, a picture of Anders on the ice.

She thought of their relationship, of how Anders had worked every day to be worthy of her older sister, and immediately stopped, trying to focus her attention on the screen in front of her instead.

There was no use getting lost in her feelings.

She tries to focus on the information in front of her, about custom invitations and designs and price points, when the front door to Sabrina’s house opens, and a loud “Anders!” rings out.

Summer groans, shouting out “He’s outside, dipshit!” 

Moments later, Mat’s annoyingly handsome face came into view as his body filled the doorway. “Oh, it is you. Your little witch’s cave too hot? Had to come to big sis’s to get away from your steaming cauldron?”

“Can you even spell ‘cauldron,’ Mathew?” She says, keeping her eyes on the laptop.

“Why are you here?” He fires back.

“It’s my sister’s house.”

“It’s my captain’s house.”

“Pretty sure it’s still my sister’s house.”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend to get back to?”

Summer could feel her control snap. “Listen, you little shit, I-”

“Can you two at least try to get along for one day?” 

Mat jumps a little at Sabrina’s voice, whirling around with a fright, while Summer just rolls her eyes. 

“He came in unannounced and bothered me.” Summer mutters, clicking on an invitation pattern that matches Sabrina’s wedding theme.

Sabrina sighed, and motioned with her head toward the backyard. “Anders is outside, he’s waiting for you.”

Mat nods once, glances back at Summer with a scowl, then saunters off. 

~

Finding his captain next to his exercise equipment in his backyard, Mat throws down his bag and plops onto a bench, glaring at Anders.

Anders rolls his eyes. “Can you at least try to be nice to her? She’s going through something, you know.”

Mat scoffs. He thinks of Summer’s healing bruises, some yellow, some still green, but at least the cut on her forehead had disappeared for the most part. He also thinks of the picture of her healing bruise on her arm she’d posted on her Instagram story the week before. He doesn’t think he noticed it just now. 

“Yeah,” Mat says after a beat too long. “Well she’s healing up fine to me from the looks of it.”

Anders gives him a strange look, but waives it away, shoving weights at Mat. “Whatever, let’s get started.

Mat has half a mind to push back, ask Anders what he was about to say, but he levels him with that Captainly stare, and Mat shuts up, commencing his workout. 

~

Drastic measures are being taken so Summer doesn't get too lost in her own heartbreak.

Well, not heartbreak, maybe lack of it.

She’d gone from wishing that Will had fought for her to actually being grateful that he hadn’t, then regretful that she didn’t actually feel any sorrow for leaving him behind. 

Summer felt like she should be sad. But she wasn’t. And that somehow managed to make everything worse. 

She feels like she’s pouting, so she keeps drinking in the hopes that none of her friends notice.

She especially keeps her eyes away from the scene near her that’s slowly awakening the little green monster inside, choosing to look around the club at literally anyone and anything else except Mat.

She goes so far as to make sure to volunteer herself anytime someone is going to the bathroom to tag along so nothing happens, and volunteer to go grab drinks with whoever is buying the next round.

It’s a lot, but she was getting away with it.

Or so she thought. 

“What is up with you tonight?” 

She narrows her eyes at Emma, because Emma already knows the answer, but is choosing to ask her in front of everyone anyway to draw their attention.

“Nothing.” Summer says earnestly, grabbing her margarita and taking a long sip from her straw.

“You are drinking a lot more tonight.” Tito offers, looking at the drink in her hand. 

Summer frowns. “It’s a birthday party, isn’t that the point?”

Mat’s birthday party, to be specific. She doesn’t think she was explicitly invited, but didn’t protest when Sabrina picked her up and brought her to Tito and Emma’s to get ready together. 

“Yeah, but you usually don’t party as hard. Everything okay?” Tito asks again. Emma’s staring a hole into the side of Summer’s face, and she ignores her. 

Nodding, Summer takes another sip. “Fine.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with a boy would it?” Tito tries, the corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. Summer misses the glance he does between her and Mat, thinking instead that he’s talking about Will.

She shakes her head, pasting on a cordial smile. “Nope. No boy drama here.” 

“Great!” Emma exclaims. She untangles herself from her fiance’s hold then exits the booth, grabs Summer’s drink and places it on the table before guiding Summer to the dance floor.

Only a few feet away, Mat dances with some leggy brunette, his hands on her waist, and Summer fights off a scowl, green, green, green creeping through her veins, and she shoves the feeling away. 

Who gives a fuck what he’s doing? She questions herself before facing Emma. 

“What are you doing?” She asks as Emma begins to dance. 

“Helping you.” She supplies sweetly. “I didn’t convince you to wear this dress for nothing, Sum. C’mon, let’s dance and make him your stupid ex boyfriend regret that he exists.”

Caving, Summer starts to dance, swaying her hips along to the beat and eventually smiling at Emma for the distraction.

Okay, so maybe Emma gets to be right about this. 

As self conscious as she was about the dress before, it’s clearly working, as guys start to approach from all sides as the song continues. They stay away from Emma, the big diamond on her left hand a clear “stay away,” but some try to get close to Summer.

One does - a tall, buff, and devilishly handsome one - and as he taps Summer’s shoulder, she can see Tito coming in to join Emma.

“Wanna dance?” He says, flashing a flirty smile, and Summer nods, placing her hand in his outstretched one.

He gives her a twirl, pressing her back against his front as he pulls her close, but not too close, just enough to toe the line, and they start to move together, his hands on her hips. He leans close, the deep timber in his voice saying “I’m Loren, what’s your name beautiful?”

“Summer,” she says easily. “Nice to meet you.” 

Loren smiles, his blonde hair brushing her face a little as he pulls back. “The pleasure’s definitely mine.” She thinks she hears him say.

Out of the corner of her eye, as Tito and Emma dance together, she sees Emma’s kilowatt smile and thumbs up, and the tequila in Summer’s drink suddenly begins to run quickly through her veins, causing her to flash a wicked smile back at Emma. 

Leaning her head back against Loren’s shoulder, she can feel the stray curls slipping from ponytail begin to stick to her face as she heats up from the inside, and rests her hands on top of his, following his lead. Song after song blends together as she sways in Loren’s hold, and as another one begins, he chuckles. “I could go all night long with you.”

Summer can feel flames creep up her cheeks and into her hairline, catching Loren’s drift in more ways than one. “I’d like to see you try.” She flirts back.

He bends lower, lips ghosting her cheek when he says “Let’s go grab a water.”

She nods, letting him take her hand in his as he pulls her toward the bar. She signals a thumbs up to Emma and then to Sabrina as they pass, letting them know she’s okay, and Sabrina nods once, but still narrows her eyes at Loren anyway, her protectiveness never wavering.

Summer is only slightly shocked when they bypass the bar altogether, and Loren crowds her into the hallway near the bathrooms.  Loren presses her against the wall with his body, placing his arms against it on either side of her head before he dips down, lips brushing hers as he says “I’ve had my eyes on you all night.”

Heat pools in her belly, and she tilts her head up slightly. “Have you now?”

He nods, presses a soft kiss to her lips, testing the waters. “Been thinking about what you might taste like.”

“Well keep thinking.”

The angry voice has both Summer and Loren snapping their heads toward the start of the hallway, where Mat stands, hands balled into fists as he glowers at Loren. 

Loren, seemingly undeterred, doesn’t back up out of Summer’s space. “Can we help you?”

Mat storms over, cutting between them and forcibly pushing Loren away. Loren’s got a couple of inches on Mat, but Mat’s definitely stronger. “I suggest you walk away.”

“Is she your girlfriend or something?” Loren asks, then smirks. “Doesn’t seem like she wants to be.”

“She won’t be yours, that’s for sure.” Mat spits.

Summer, indignant, steps forward, pulling Mat’s shoulder. She was getting really tired of this pissing contest, really fast.

“Mat, knock it off.” She demands. “Just go away.”

He turns to look at her then, and Summer takes a step back when she sees the fire in his eyes, all anger and hatred. “You seriously want to go home with this loser?”

“She doesn’t want to go home with you.” Loren pipes up, and that seems to snap the last bit of restraint Mat had, because the next thing Summer knows, Mat’s turning around as fast as lighting and punching Loren across the face. Loren stumbles back just a second, then charges forward, and Summer finds herself shouting Mat’s name, something sick making her stomach churn.

She’s not stupid enough to try to intervene between two people who are stronger and bigger than her, but she can’t let this continue, so she calls for Tito, calls for Anders, voice rough and desperate, and they appear with Marty in tow, which, Summer realizes, is bound to make the situation slightly worse.

Emma, Sabrina, and Sydney are there as well, pulling Summer down the hall with them and away as the men try to break up the scuffle. 

“Are you okay?” Sabrina demands. “Did he hurt you?”

Summer’s eyebrows bunch in confusion. “What? No. Mat didn’t do anything.”

Sabrina frowns. “I meant that guy you were with.”

Duh. Summer thinks lamely. “Oh, no, he didn’t. He barely even kissed me, but it was mutual.”

Her older sister searches her face for…something, what, Summer isn’t sure, but she seems to find it, and nods, pushing her toward Emma and Sydney. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“What about the guys? Mat’s party? Don’t do this on my account. I’m fine, I swear.”

“We’re not,” Sydney reassures Summer, rubbing her arm gently as they pile into Sydney’s SUV parked near the curb. “We’ll finish the celebration somewhere else.” 

“What about the guys?” She asks. 

“They’ll take my car.” Sabrina says. “I gave Anders the key.”

Summer nods, but suddenly doesn’t feel like she’d be welcome at wherever that ‘somewhere else’ is, so she asks to go home instead.

The girls exchange worried looks, but agree, and they head toward Summer’s apartment instead.

~

Mat saunters over to where Summer stood in front of the island of the outdoor bar in Anders and Sabrina’s backyard. It was another night, another get together, and the warm air of the official start to the summer season wrapped everyone in a soft embrace. 

He’d been meaning to approach Summer, meaning to apologize for his actions at the club with that punk. He didn’t feel he’d been unreasonable, but everyone else had reminded him that no matter his intentions, his actions said differently, and so, here he was.

And if the fact that Summer didn’t show up at Tito’s place when they all managed to reconvene said more than anything he felt his soul could bear.

Mat looked her over as she approached, taking full stock of her beauty. Her long curls in a ponytail secured with a scrunchie trailed down the open back of her red dress. From his perspective behind her as he approached, it had slightly puffy short sleeves, and crossed at the lower back, and the sight of her bare skin let him know she probably wasn’t wearing a bra. 

Fuck.

He eyes the white strappy heels on her feet and suddenly felt the urgent need to know what they would feel like digging into his back.

Mat steels himself, and with a beer in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, he extends the glass of wine toward Summer with a mumbled “Truce” as he approaches. 

She turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised at the glass. “I’m sorry?”

“Truce.” He repeats, a little louder. “I’m sorry for the other night.”

“The other night?” She echoes, and Mat tries not to scowl.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” He says, then winces, placing both his beer and her glass of wine down on the countertop. “The other night at the club, when I punched that guy you were gonna hook up with.”

“Loren?” Summer asks, genuine shock in her voice. 

Mat could feel the flames of anger lick at him from the inside, and he tried so desperately to push it down. 

“I don’t care what his name is.” There was more venom in his voice than he’d wanted to be. But it was true, he didn’t. He didn’t care about or want to hear about any second rate guy you hung around.  

Because it’s not you? The devil on his shoulder taunted. 

Fuck off.

“I’m sorry for ruining your night.” He tries again. “I wasn’t trying to start anything. It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.”

“Mat,” she says, soft. “If anything, I should be sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday.”

“You didn’t.” He promises, “I did by doing that. But you didn’t ruin anything. And I’m sorry I acted out.”

“Oh, well, thank you.”

Mat pauses. “So you forgive me? You don’t hate me?”

“I do.”

Mat stares at her, weighing her non answer of an answer. “You do?”

“I do,” she says, nodding, then clarifies with a wicked gleam. “Hate you.”

Mat sours, grabbing his beer and taking a large swing before putting it back down. “Right back at ya, princess.”

She rolls her eyes, then pauses, like she’s thinking. It’s another beat before she tells Mat, “I didn’t want to hook up with him, you know.”

His blood begins to boil again. “I don’t know, you were dancing on that punk like you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“Because I don’t.” She says simply.

A record scratching screams in his head, and he rounds on her. “What?”

“I said, I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

When he just stares at her, trying to come to terms with what she just said, she rolls her eyes and takes a step back from him. “Oh for god's sake Mathew, I broke up with him. So shut the fuck up about it already.” She spits, turning on her heels and leaving him in the wake of her revelation.

His heart beat in his chest, something sick and wicked making him follow Summer into Anders’ house as she sauntered away ahead of him. At the sound of the sliding door closing behind him, he half expected Summer to turn around and look at him, but she didn’t, instead continuing to stalk toward the guest room down the hall.

Mat hurried his steps, catching up with her before grabbing her hand, turning her around and pushing her into the open hall closet, then shutting the door closed and locking it behind him. He flipped on the light, soul brightening at the sight of her beautiful face and then dimming at the frown on it.

“What the fuck, Mathew?” she spit.

“You broke up with him?” He demands.

She rolled her eyes, and Mat felt his palm aching to spank her ass for it. “Yes, that’s what I said. We broke up. Did you need further clarification? I figured all of your past failed relationships would-”

“When?” He cut her off, taking a step closer to her. Summer took one back, nearly backing into the shelf of extra linens behind her.

“Two weeks ago.” She deadpans, crossing her arms over her chest, inadvertently drawing his attention to them as her words sunk in.

Two weeks. Two weeks too long. 

“Two weeks ago?” He echoes in disbelief. 

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her eyebrows raise at him in equal disbelief as she says “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“You know why.” He hisses.

Another roll of her eyes followed by an irritated sigh. “No, I don’t. Why don’t you spell it out for me?”

Her challenge hangs in the air, and he feels himself pause for one, two, three seconds before…

Fuck it.

“God damn you.” Mat swears, reaching under her dress, finding her hip, wrapping his fist around the lace fabric of her underwear there, and tugs.

He tugs once, strong and quick, and the flimsy thing snaps, and Summer lets out an indignant squeak as he pulls the ruined fabric from under her dress, sticking it in his pocket. 

“Mat-” she says, and he surges forward to kiss her, to take her mouth and shut her up because if she said his name like that again he’d come before he was even inside her. His hands cup the sides of her face as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, gently running his tongue over it before letting it slip between his teeth and pulling. When she moans again, Mat nearly bursts at the seams.

“Gonna make you feel good.” He promises her, continuing to taste the berries on her lips as he let his hands slide up, let his hands go up to the scrunchie holding her beautiful curls in its ponytail and pulling, running his fingers through her hair as it cascades down, letting her scrunchie rest on his wrist.

The need for Summer built and built and built in his body, and all his control and restraint snapped as she moaned. 

For all she got on his nerves, for all she irritated him, all the times she’d been a fucking pain in his ass, she still had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

And she was finally under his touch.

Fucking finally.

He grips her hair at the base of her neck in his fist, uses it and pulls her head back so he can lick deeper into her insolent little mouth. He flips them as he goes, walking her backwards, pressing her into the locked door of the hall closet and covering her mouth with one of his hands, his other making its way back under her dress.

Mat parts her with his fingers, drawing her wetness as if it answered only to him - and he would make it answer to him - and she made this broken sound under his palm that had him resting his forehead against hers as he presses his body into her, and presses her further into the door. 

“If you keep that shit up, making all those pretty noises, I’m not gonna last.” He breathes, removing his hand from her mouth only to kiss her again, to taste and swallow her moans as she made them now. He brought his now free hand down to her hip to keep her still, squeezing as the fingers against her pussy drew her wetness to her clit, where Mat began to rub gently. 

“Do you want to come for me?” He asks, lips brushing against Summer’s as he speaks.

She nods, and he kisses her again, licking into her mouth, continuing to rub her in slow, firm circles.

“On my fingers?” Mat breathes. “Or on my cock?”

Before she can answer, he slips a finger inside, and feels his cock throb when it’s met with slick, tight, silken heat. She squeezes his finger as he begins to slowly pump, and with each push inside, it feels like her body’s trying to draw him in further, begging for more, more, please more.

He suddenly realizes with an awful sense of clarity that they won’t have enough time, enough privacy for him to be able to do everything he’d hoped to with her, and definitely not tonight. So he decides for them both, saying “My fingers, then,” when she doesn’t manage to answer him the more he curls his finger inside her.

Carefully, he adds another, feels her squeeze down and watches her eyes roll back in delight, a faint blush rising on her caramel skin. His hand that was on her hip comes out from under the skirt of her dress, only to play at the neckline of her dress, then tug it down, freeing her breasts, and Mat wastes no time in bending his head down and sucking a dusky nipple into his mouth, tongue running over her flesh greedily as he licked and lapped and sucked. 

“Oh!” Summer cries out, her hands flying to his hair, gripping the strands between her fingers as her hips start to wind, riding his hand. He brings his thumb into the fray, rubbing circles as he fingers her, and at the squeeze of her cunt, he groans.

He switches to her other nipple, giving it the same attention as he murmured “Come for me, honey. Want you to come for me. Need it. Need you.” 

“Yes!” Summer whines, breath coming out in short punches.

“Need you, need you, need you” he pleads against her lips, not afraid or caring that he was about two seconds away from basically begging.

Mat’s eyes flutter shut before he opens them again, deciding this moment was too good to pass up, that he’d waited too long for this to not look at Summer’s face as she came.

His eyes trailed up and his cock throbbed again.

Her eyes are screwed shut, tears trailing those beautiful cheeks as her head is thrown back, hair falling in beautiful ribbon curls over her shoulders, covering the tops of her breasts, running down her back as she moves her perfect body against his, those curves sending him into a trance as she winds her hips on his fingers. 

Needy, and greedy, he slips a third finger inside of her, moaning as she suffocates them, his thumb rubbing her once, twice, three times before her pussy locks his fingers in a vice grip as she comes, the wet sounds echoing around them as Mat continues his assault.

He surges up, kissing her again to swallow her cries, his cock throbbing painfully when Summer begins to suck on his tongue, anchoring herself as her orgasm rides through her.

When she’s had enough, she reaches down, circling his wrist with her hand and squeezing firmly, signaling for him to stop. He does, slowing his ministrations before carefully pulling out of her a digit at a time, and when his fingers were free, he wastes no time before bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking a finger between his lips.

Summer watches with heavy lidded eyes as he tastes her, and he makes sure to suck it clean before he brings his other two fingers to her lips. Obediently, and compliant by orgasm, she sucks his fingers eagerly, tasting herself, and it takes Mat everything in him not to come in his pants at the sight.

He withdraws his fingers and replaces them with his mouth, moaning at the taste of her on her tongue, and dirty fantasies start to play in his head.

Mat wants to be in a bed with her, touching, hands wandering all over, exchanging sloppy kisses for hours before he gets her on her knees, spits in her mouth, tongue her down then spit in it again before wrapping her hair in his grip, holding her chin as her messy lips parts, guiding it to his cock, stuffing himself down her throat - 

They could do that. They could do that right now. All he had to do was get her out of this closet and down the hall to the guest room she was staying in and -

The sliding door of the kitchen opens loudly, someone mills about, and then the door closes again, its loud click reminding them of their limited time frame, lack of privacy, and obvious company.

Mat should have backed away, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept kissing Summer until their slow, languid kisses turned into soft pecks, and she pushed gently at his chest until he was at arm's length.

The distance, however short, made his blood run cold.

“We should - I should go.” Summer says. Her voice was hoarse, lips red from his love, and her body called to his again.

Her hair draped around her like a veil, her breasts still bared to him, nipples shiny from his mouth, and her dress slightly bunched up to the tops of her thighs, Summer looked every bit as sexy to him as the day he met her, only now, there was something about the glow of her skin that made it scream “mine” in Mat’s eyes.

“You should go back outside.” She continues when he says nothing. “They’ll be wondering where we are. And if whoever that was tells everyone else they didn’t hear us yelling at each other, they’ll be suspicious. Especially Sabrina and Anders.”

“Summer, we should -”

“I’ll go first. Then you go. You can say you had to go out front for some air. I’ll go to my room.”

He frowns, hard cock softening as reality sinks in.

She’s trying to run from you. The devil on his shoulder whispered. Don’t let her.

Too late.

Without another word, Summer adjusted her clothes, covering herself up and smoothing down her hair before she flipped the lock, opened the door, and sauntered off, leaving Mat standing there as his brain fought past the fog of desire and tried desperately to catch up.

When it did, he realized that despite feeling like he just took four steps forward with Summer, she shoved him back eight, and he didn’t know how to cross back over that distance without admitting all the things he kept buried inside.

He never actually hated her. Not really. She pushed and he pushed back - it’s how they’d always been. 

But if Summer decided to pull instead of push one day, Mat was certain he’d go willingly, eagerly into her arms. And hadn’t he just done that? 

He debates for a second that he might just disobey her, might go after her and finish what they started, and then wonders if it would be better if he snuck into the bathroom and jacked off.

He does neither of those things. Instead, he walks back out to join his teammates, friends, and their significant others in the backyard, trying to ignore the fact that he just had the girl of his dreams in his arms, and let her walk away.

~

So…that had happened.

Summer currently lay on her back, staring at her bedroom ceiling. 

She’d been thankful that Sabrina didn’t think to ask twice when she’d said she’d be staying at her apartment “doing chores” instead of heading to Sabrina’s like normal. It was technically a Saturday where she’s supposed to be helping with wedding planning, but she didn’t want to risk it.

It being Mat undoubtedly showing up at their house and forcing Summer to confront her new apparent reality.

It had been a week since their little almost-sexcapade in Sabrina’s hall closet, and she couldn’t shake the memory of it no matter how hard she tried.

(If you could count reacquainting herself with her dildo and pretending it was Mat as trying.)

She’d been trying to get the feeling of him out of her mind, but she couldn’t. It was no use. Every time she closed her eyes, she could conjure the image of him as he kissed her, as he fingered her within an inch of her life, the way his eyes tracked her movements as she sucked herself off of his fingers before he’d claimed her mouth.

He’d kissed her, touched her, tasted her like he owned her, and Summer wasn’t sure if she liked it and should be wanting more, or if she should be concerned that she’d let him do any of that to her in the first place.

Of course Mat was handsome. She wasn’t blind.

It was just that…well, she thought he hated her.

Summer was under the impression that all of their back and forth had been a clear indication that he couldn’t stand her, wanted nothing to do with her, and thought of her the same way most men did.

Uninteresting. Not as pretty. Not worth it.

It made her confused. Made her start to rethink everything she thought she knew about him.

The night she got back from Sabrina’s after he’d taken her into the closet, she’d grabbed her phone, opened up Instagram, and looked through all of his activity. The comments, the reactions, all of it. While he may not have interacted with all of her stories, he’d watched them, every single one, and had to wonder…

Was that Mat…flirting? Or trying to?

No. No way. It couldn’t have been. She’d seen Mat flirt with countless women over the years she’d known him. What he did was not flirting.

Or…was it?

Summer let out another groan, flopping onto her stomach and deciding hiding herself away in her apartment and trying to figure this out on her own was going to be no use.

She got up, changing into a babydoll dress - to hell with pants - grabbing her purse and car keys to head to Buttercooky Bakery and Cafe.

Once she got there, she ordered her usual array of pastries and had them boxed up, so she could bring them to Sabrina’s house. If her sister decided to ask, Summer would just lie and say she finished up her chores early.

The only way to stop thinking about Mat was to fill her brain to capacity with something else, anything else.

Wedding planning should do the trick.

~

The team was playing Kan Jam in Anders’ back yard while Sabrina and the other significant others lounged inside. 

Mat, usually one of the first ones to jump in and play, had been working out with Josh and Casey instead, trying desperately to focus on anything but the fact that the last time he’d set foot in this house, nearly a week ago, he’d defiled his captain’s future sister in law.

Well, partially defiled. 

Still. 

Summer’s nearly naked body plagued his mind every waking second of his day, and the only way he seemed to be able to get rid of it was when he needed to focus on something else.

Like right now - focusing on trying not to drop two hundred and fifty pounds of barbells on his chest as he bench pressed.

He keeps the count in his head, trying to focus on his breathing, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, when Josh tapped his shoulder from his spotter’s position, and Mat pushed up, allowing Josh to take the bar from him and set it back in place. Mat sat up carefully, accepting his water bottle from Casey before looking at Josh.

Josh wasn’t paying attention though, instead watching his wife through the open sliding door toward Sabrina and Anders’ kitchen, where Summer had apparently just arrived, a pastry box in tow and a small smile for her older sister.

Mat’s heart runs head first into his ribcage.

He feels the need in his body to go to her and pushes it down, instead tapping Josh on the side and gesturing toward the bench Mat was still sitting on. “Your turn, big guy.”

It was technically Casey’s turn to spot, but Mat took over, needing the distraction so he didn’t turn around to look at Summer, no matter how much he wanted to.

Later, when they finished their workout, and the rest of the guys finished their game of Kan Jam, they all took to the pool. Some of the significant others had come out to join them, swimming with the others, and when Mat didn’t spot Summer, he guessed that she’d probably just swung by to drop off pastries and then leave.

He feels it’s safe, so he grabs his bag and heads into the house, showering quickly in the guest bath down in the basement.

After he gets dressed and puts his shit away in his bag, he heads back up the stairs, fully intending to head to the backyard when he hears soft music, and he knows in his soul it’s Summer.

He follows the sound, trailing down the hallway that leads to the guest bedroom Anders and Sabrina designated as hers, not surprised to find her laying on the bed while soft music streams from the record player in the corner of the room.

She’s wearing a dress, her and her fucking dresses, hair fanned out around her on the covers, eyes open and staring at the ceiling while her mouth moves along silently to the words of the song. 

Mat can feel a smart remark creeping up his throat - the usual way they greet each other - before he tamps it down, setting his bag down on the floor before he steps into the room, then shuts her bedroom door behind him softly, flicking the lock.

“Hi.” He says softly, trying not to startle her.

She turns her head to the side, expression seemingly blank as she stares at him. “Hi.”

God.

Mat swears he melts right there and then.

Her voice. All she’d said was a simple “hi” but it rang like tinkling bells in his head and he feels his hands twitch at his sides.

“Got a staring problem, thirteen?” She quips, but it doesn’t hold its usual attitude. There’s a cheeky smile that slowly breaks onto her face, and he finds himself moving forward, placing one knee on the bed. 

To his surprise, she leans up, pushing up on her hands to sit up as he gets onto the bed on both knees.

She looks up at him, big brown eyes filled with expectation, and Mat, he can’t help it, he gives in.

“Been thinking about you.” He says, honestly, bringing his hands up to her face, brushing away some of the curls before just holding her cheeks in his palms.

She nods. “Me too.”

And that…that’s going to have to be enough.

He bends down, does it slowly enough to give Summer the room she needs to bail, to tell him “thanks for the orgasm!” and just leaves, reminding him that this isn’t what they do.

But she doesn’t.

She meets him halfway, her lips softly meeting his, hands coming up to rest on his forearms. It’s slow, languid, like honey dripping, and Mat revels in it. Loves the way that she lets him lead her as they kiss, lets him take control and take what he needs, what he wants from her with every movement of his lips, just take, take, take…

Mat feels her hands slowly trail down his arms, down his sides before she finds the hem of his shirt and dips her hands under it. They settle on his abdomen, and she runs her hands up and down before Mat feels her nails gently scratch down, and he shivers, pushing forward into her touch just a little more.

“Yeah?” She murmurs between kisses. Mat nods, and she does it again, digging her fingers in a little more that causes Mat to hiss a little, nipping her bottom lip between his teeth.

“Love your mouth.” He tells her, seizing it in another searing kiss that turns filthy the minute Summer lets her hands trail down his abdomen again and settles on the waistband of his sweats. 

“My mouth?” She asks, voice teasing as her fingers start to dip below, and he drops one of his hands from her face to trap both her wrists in one grip, the other hand dropping to the hollow of her throat. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds her there, holds her gaze in his as his breathing quickens.

“Yes.” He answers. “Your insolent little mouth.” 

A wicked gleam crosses her brown eyes, and Mat can feel her testing his limits - something she clearly doesn’t forget how to do. She hums, blinking a little in a way that has Mat tracking the slow movement of her eyelashes brushing the tops of her cheeks. He finds himself bending to kiss them, pressing his lips to one cheek, then the other, and drops both hands to help her wind her arms around him as he finally comes down on top of her.

She opens her legs to welcome his body between them, and he fits there easily, just as he’d hoped he would. She’s all soft - soft skin, soft embrace - as he brings his arms next to her, cradling her head in his hands so he can tangle his fingers in her hair, grip it tight to tilt her head back.

Just as he had before, the second her mouth opens to him as he starts to kiss her, he claims it, slipping his tongue between her lips, trying to gauge how far she’ll let him take this, take this moment, how far she’ll let him play with her.

He pulls back a little, figures he might be swinging for the fences, but he won’t know unless he tries.

Summer’s panting as she stares at him, waiting for him.

“Open your mouth.” He says. His voice is gentle, but it’s a command all the same.

Mat watches and feels his cock go rock solid when Summer’s eyes glaze over and she smiles slowly, syrupy, wicked, and then she slowly opens her mouth, tongue sticking out and all.

Holy fucking shit.

Mat can’t breathe. He purses his lips, watches as his spit trails from his mouth into hers, onto her tongue, and then that beautiful tongue disappears as her mouth closes. He watches her swallow, and then the little fucking devil has the nerve to say “Thank you.”

He can’t contain himself anymore. Anything in him that demanded they take this moment slow fucking vaporizes when he surges forward again, fist tightening in her hair as he holds her face to his in a dirty, sloppy, open mouthed kiss.

He starts to move his hips, grinding into the warm, familiar heat between the apex of her thighs, those beautiful legs bracketing his sides, and her hands travel to his ass, squeezing his cheeks while pulling him closer to her, tilting her hips up to meet his thrusts.

Christ.

He hadn’t done this in…well…ever. He’d never been fully clothed, grinding desperately against a girl, about ten seconds from coming in his pants from kissing and spit play and

“What the fuck are you doing to me?” Mat demands against her mouth, and he trails his kisses to the side, kissing the corner of her mouth, her chin, cheek, jaw, and he brings his lips to her neck, leaving slow kisses, gentle kisses that quickly turn to nips when she lines them up, his cock right where she must need him to be, and moves her hips up and down, guiding their friction.

He sucks the skin of her neck in his mouth hard, laving it with his tongue while she whines beneath him. One of her hands flies up to cup the back of his head, her fingers combing between the strands and gripping it, the other digging her nails into his ass cheek with a vice grip. 

“Take what you need.” Mat says against her neck. “Take it, take it, take it…”

She nods furiously, and Mat bends his head, sucking another mark into her neck, freeing one hand from her curls and bringing it to her breasts, tugging the neckline of her dress down and gripping one of her breasts in his hand, pinching her nipple between his fingers. 

Summer cries out, and Mat brings his lips back to hers to swallow it, lets her kiss him messily before he brings his hands to her hips, taking over, guiding them and giving her what she needs.

He’s learned her rhythm at this point, and had been paying attention in the back of his mind at her breaths, her movements, where she needed him to be and what made her get closer and closer to that beautiful orgasm.

“I’ve got you, beautiful.” He promises. “I’ve got you.”

“Need more.” Summer pleads, trailing her hand between them. Mat tracks her hand as it goes, watches it dip down and under the hem of her dress to her black lace panties that have been moved to the side in their grinding.

His hips stutter slightly at the sight of her bare pussy almost fully exposed to him. The mauve of the lips of her mouth match the mauve of the lips of her pussy, her pussy which is shining with the wetness of her arousal. He’d had it wrapped around his fingers, knew how good it felt, but at the minute, he demanded to know how good it tasted.

Mat began to rise up on his arms, fully intended to scoot down the bed and throw those beautiful caramel thighs over his shoulder and drink his fill, but Summer caught him, pulled his face down to hers with a shake of her head. “Need you now.” She pleads, kissing him again. “Please.”

There was a part of him that went to protest, but then her hand dipped beneath his waistband and wrapped around his cock, and Mat felt a groan leave his mouth as he settled his body atop hers once more.

“Please.” She says again, urging him to start moving. It took him a second, but he found the rhythm she needed. 

His cock, freed from his pants that he’d shoved around his thighs, sliding up and down against her bare pussy, fucking up into the grip of her hands while they kissed, sloppy, messy, desperate. 

Summer was moaning into his mouth now, his name a prayer on her lips between kisses, and Mat felt it, felt the way her body began to seize, began to shake and tremble and he felt like he could cry with relief. 

“Please baby.” He begs. “Come for me. Wanna see you come for me again.”

She cried out, tears springing from her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. The devil inside him rose up in Mat and he leaned down a little more, licking her tears from her skin. It must have spoken to her devil, because then she gripped his chin in her hand and kissed him, her tongue seeking his to taste her tears.

“You’re going to fucking kill me.” He murmurs, and it makes Summer laugh before she moans again, desperate as her hips work faster, climbing closer and closer to her orgasm.

Mat focuses on the softness of her hand, the wetness of her pussy he can feel against him and his eyes screw shut. “Please Summer, please, I need you to -”

“Yes Mat,” she says, “Yes yes yes yes yes…”

Her hips move and move and move, and when she begins to come, begins to shake under his body, he pushes forward into her hand the moment her hips cant up, and instead of gliding against her pussy when she brings her hips back down, the head of his dick catches against her entrance, and she pushes him inside, bare cock to her bare pussy, he's inside, and it sends Mat careening over the edge of a cliff and into his own orgasm full force. 

Summer’s hand disappears from between them as Mat drops the full weight of his body on hers, his hands on her hips as he pumps inside her, coming and emptying his load into her awaiting cunt. 

“Oh my god,” she moans out, hands circling around his neck as she winds her hips, riding out their orgasms together.

It’s not enough. The squeeze of her pussy, the wetness from her orgasm dripping down his cock and onto his balls, the way her body seems to invite him deeper inside of her. 

Mat continues his assault, pounding his hips and placing his hands on the backs of her thighs, opening her up for him so he can fuck her deeper. His cock is sensitive, but he can feel the need, can feel that her little fucking stunt wasn’t enough, that he still has more to give her. 

“You’re a goddamn maniac.” He curses, watching his dick tunnel in and out of her. “A goddamn nightmare.”

Summer cries out his name, and his eyes flash up to hers, capturing her gaze. “Please,” she begs sweetly, and he has half a mind to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze until she tells him “thank you” again.

She’s a fucking demoness. The devil on his shoulder praises. She’d let you do it.

“Open your fucking mouth.” He says instead, says again. She does as he asks, no slow preamble about it, and he spits into her awaiting mouth, kissing her before she can close it. He brings one hand from her thigh to rest on her throat in warning, pulling back to say “Now swallow it, you fucking brat.”

She does, opening her mouth to show him, sticking her tongue out. He sucks it into his mouth before kissing her again, squeezing her throat when he says “Good fucking girl.”

He pushes up, placing his hand back on her thigh as he continues to fuck into her, chasing his second orgasm.

It comes when Summer does, for the second time, without warning as she squeezes down on him, her body pulsing and legs shaking beneath his touch. Mat feels her arousal drip down him again and he’s coming with a long groan, pressing deep inside of Summer.

He drops down again, pressing kisses to her neck, her cheek, working his way back to her lips where she meets him eagerly, and he lets her thighs go, her legs immediately wrapping around him and making it clear she doesn’t want him to leave anytime soon. 

As if he fucking could. As if he wanted to. Nothing could take him away from her now.

“Gonna roll us on our side, okay?” He says, voice a little hoarse. Summer nods, moving with him as he goes. He hikes up the leg that’s on top of him a little higher, making it easier for him to remain inside her.

As his hands creep under her dress and trail up the soft, round slope of her belly, Mat smiles when Summer giggles a little, clearly ticklish.

They stare at one another, smiles in their eyes. 

Holy shit.

Had he hoped for another moment like this with Summer? Of course! Did he think it’d happen today? No.

Had he hoped for it? Still yes.

Eventually, he does pull out, and they trail into the bathroom in Summer’s room to clean up a little bit. When they’re done, he follows her back out to her room and they resume their position laying on their sides, legs tangled together as they stare at one another. 

“Don’t run away.” He finds himself saying, knows there’s a ‘please’ in there he’s not saying, but one she can certainly hear.

She shakes her head, reaching out with her fingers to brush his lips. “I won’t.” She promises, watches as Mat takes her fingers and kisses the tips of each one before bringing it to rest on his chest. 

Part of him is happy. Happy and sated. The other is mildly alarmed that he had the balls to fuck Summer, his captain’s future younger sister in law, in his captain’s house, less than a week after he fingered her in the hall closet of the same house.

Men had been castrated over a lot less.

“What does this mean?” Summer asks, hesitation in her tone.

It should scare Mat. Questions like that usually do, but with Summer, it doesn’t.

He shrugs. “It means I might actually like you a little bit, you fucking brat.”

There’s a pause, and Mat chances a look at her to see if she’s taken it the wrong way, but she merely blinks at him, and then laughs, laughs light and loud and Mat’s laughing along with her, their laughter filling their bellies and the room until there’s happy tears leaking from Summer’s eyes.

“I think I can live with that.” She finally says. The expression on her face reads satisfaction, and he thinks he’d do anything she wanted if it meant he could keep that look on her face.

He liked knowing he put it there in the first place.

They fell into a comfortable silence, letting the record player continue crooning whatever vinyl Summer had put on before he’d come in here and…well…taken her for himself.

Mat watched Summer’s beautiful face closely, watched her breathing even out, and felt like he could fall asleep right here, tangled together with her in the soft glow of her room. 

That is, until incessant knocking rained down on her door, and Sabrina’s indignant voice rang out.

“Mat Barzal! You’d better explain why you’ve locked yourself in my sister’s room!”

More thunderous knocking, and Mat reaches out, securing Summer and relaxing her when it makes her wince. 

“I know you’re in there!” Sabrina exclaims. “Your bag is in the hall, you fucking asshole!”

“You’d better not be doing what I think you’re doing!” Anders calls out next, and they can’t help it.

Summer and Mat burst out laughing again. 

~

“Is it just sex then? Or is there more?” Sabrina asks Summer, hours later. The sun’s been gone and there’s a fire going in their pit. They’re laying on the lounge chairs by the pool. The rest of the crowd still lingers, some in the hot tub near the edge of the yard, others coming in and out of the house.

“I don’t know,” Summer says honestly. “That’s the…second? Technically second, time we’ve done it.”

“Does the sex make you hate him less?

“I mean, the sex doesn’t hurt.”

Sabrina laughs at that, and as it dies down, considers her sister for a second.

It makes Summer uncomfortable, so she lets out a small nervous laugh, asking “What?”

Sabrina shakes her head a little. “I just…I feel like I partially expected this, but I also didn’t, but it makes sense. I think you’d be good together.”

Summer shrugs, aloof. “Maybe. Who knows? We’re just…hanging out.” That’s technically half true. All they’d done so far was…well, kind of fuck. And then fuck.

“Is that what the kids call it these days?” Sabrina teases, then reaches out, grabbing Summer’s hand and squeezing. “I’m just kidding. I mean it. If you’re cool with…whatever it is you two are doing, then I support you. But just remember it doesn’t mean I won’t stop looking out for you.”

“I know,” Summer promises, then looks across the yard to find Anders and Mat engaged in what looks to be a heated conversation, and Summer can only guess it’s similar to the one she and Sabrina just had.

~

Anders levels Mat with a Captainly look. “I’m telling you not to take this risk. This whole ‘I hate you but now I like you’ risk. And especially not with Summer.”

Mat scoffs, spotting her watching him from across the yard and shoots her a shit eating grin, wiggling his fingers in a small, hopefully reassuring wave. It seems to work, and Summer goes back to speaking to Sabrina. 

He rounds on his captain, eyes narrowed. “Fuck off, okay? I know she’s gonna be your sister in law or whatever, but you don’t have anything to worry about. What we’re doing is casual. It’s a mutually beneficial transactional relationship.”

At least, he thinks it is. They hadn’t technically addressed that.

His captain narrows his gaze. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.”

“Anders-”

“I mean it, Mat. If you’re not serious about her, leave her alone. You saw the shit she went through with Will. I’m not saying you’re anything like him, but she can’t go through that again. And whether you want to admit it or not, there’s something between the two of you, and if it goes wrong, it’s going to be really, really bad.”

“It won’t.” Mat insists.

Even as the devil on his shoulder whispers "It might."

[islesnucks]

5 signs you’re more than friends and should do something about it - Mathew Barzal x Reader (4+1 fic)

Word Count: 7.4 k

Warnings: a little angst and a couple swear words

Summary: after your friend Anthony sends you the link to a magazine article titled “5 signs you’re more than friends and should do something about it”, you realize maybe the article isn’t so wrong.

Masterlist

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A/N: I can't belive i actually wrote this, lke i had this idea for so long and i sat down and wrote dear god the power hahahha im kidding, anyway hope you like it and all feedback is appreciated and encourage actually please say nice things hahahah

You roll your eyes as you read the text Anthony has just sent you. ‘Thought you might need this’, followed by a link to an article by some lame magazine titled “5 signs you’re more than friends and should do something about it”.

This is definitely not the first time he brings up the topic and probably won’t be the last. For some reason he's fixed on it and won't let it go no matter how many times you tell him Mat and you are just friends, there’s nothing more and won’t ever be.

Sure you love Mat, he’s one of your closest friends. He’s the one you go to when you’re in trouble, the one that always knows how to cheer you up, the first one you call when you have good news, the one you could talk to for hours and never get bored, that one person you know you can count on no matter what. Mat is your person. But that’s it, there aren’t any hidden feelings, secret crushes or unrequited love drama, and you’ll keep repeating that to Tito … and to yourself.

You reply with a simple ‘fuck off’, and go back to mindlessly scrolling through instagram. But you can’t even make it to the second post before curiosity sneaks into your mind. There's this small part of you that for some reason wants to read it. So against your better judgment you go back to your messages, telling yourself it’s just some lame article that won’t probe anything, and finally click on the link.

1. You start to spend more time together ... alone

The sun was bright, not a cloud on sight, and there was a slight breeze that would come from time to time making it the perfect day to go to the park. So that’s what you decided to do. You also decided to check if Mat was free to join since you hadn't seen him in almost two weeks because he had a roadie. Luckily he had the day off and in a matter of minutes was at your door with a blanket on his right arm and the brightest grin, ready for an afternoon sitting under the trees.

“Someone’s in a good mood.” he commented as you walked through the park looking for a nice spot. You had a certain spring in your step that Mat could only hope was because of him.

“I have plenty of reasons to be in a good mood. It’s a beautiful day, I’m finally seeing my best friend after weeks and … he’s gonna buy me an ice cream.” you replied remembering the ice cream truck you had seen when you arrived.

“Who said anything about ice cream?” he bit back jokingly, setting down the blanket on your chosen spot.

You took a seat and expected him to do the same but he didn’t. Instead, he turned around without saying a single word and started walking away. It took you a second to understand what was going on and the moment it did your lips curved into the fondest smile.

A smile that stayed in your face and only grew bigger when you watched him walk back your way a couple minutes later with a cone on each hand, one with bubblegum flavored ice cream in it and the other your favorite flavor. And Mat couldn’t hid the one that appeared in his face as he watched yours. You had that effect on him, an effect he couldn’t explain yet because he hadn’t allowed himself to even consider why your simplest gestures sparked such joy in him.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but notice the way his t-shirt tightened around his toned arms, how the warm daylight lightened his features making him look even prettier than usual, how his dimples would appear whenever he gave you that half smirk he seemed to reserve just for you. However you quickly pushed those thoughts away, like you always did.

“Here.” he said, placing one ice cream in your hand as he finally took a seat next to you.

“I was just joking, you didn’t have to.” you assured him, but the way you looked at it proved you wrong.

“Oh please. I saw the way your face lit up when we walked by it.” You laughed and looked away, trying to hide the blush that creeped to your cheeks as Mat showed once again how much he knew you.

“How was the roadie anyway? I know you won most of the games.”

“It was good, but I missed home. You know my place, my bed, my friends” He didn’t miss his friends in general and he knew it, he missed you, he always did.

“Well your friends missed you a little too. And by your friends I mean me. And by a little I mean a whole lot.” That was music to his ears and he would’ve loved to hear more about how much you missed him but the second you heard yourself your walls went back up and you changed the topic. “Too bad Beau couldn’t come.” you added and Mat instantly tensed up beside you.

When you had called him you mentioned you planned on calling Anthony next to invite him too, since you also hadn’t seen him for weeks. He told you not to bother, he’d do it, and when he showed up alone at your place you just assumed he was busy.

“Yeah he had some important meeting or something.” Mat was quick to reply and took another bite of his ice cream, which seemed to be a mechanism to avoid talking, but you chose not to think too much into it.

You enjoyed your treats in comfortable silence. That’s one of the reasons why you liked hanging out with him so much, there was no need for small talk, no need to fill awkward silences because there weren’t any in the first place. You just enjoyed each other's presence and that was enough, that’s all you needed.

Those tender thoughts suddenly flooded your brain and you looked up at Mat. For your luck the scene you found was enough to replace said thoughts as you saw his nose covered in ice cream.

“You have some-” You signaled your own nose but he just looked at you confused. Laughing you stretch your hand to clean the ice cream off his nose but stop yourself before you could.

“Wait, you look too cute.” you said already getting your phone out to take a picture, too distracted to note the light blush that took over his cheeks because of your comment.

“This is going to ruin my reputation.” he protested, pretending to be annoyed. However the way he posed for the photo with a silly grin holding the cone close to his face showed the opposite.

“What reputation?” you teased, earning an over exaggerated eye roll from him.

Later that day when you got home you decided to upload the photo to your stories and within seconds got a reply from Tito saying: ‘you could have invited me ...’ Making it clear there was no important meeting whatsoevere.

2. You get jealous for apparently no reason

“Wait, you aren’t coming to the game tonight? Why? You were there the last couple times we won, you have to be there.” Anthony said as he walked into Mat’s living room.

“Already told her that.” Mat added with an annoyed tone that made you sigh. Today wasn’t his day. No, actually, today was a good day until you told him you wouldn’t be able to make it to his game. But that’s not what bothered him, he could get it, you had your own life. What bothered him beyond his comprehension was the reason you couldn’t go.

“Why can’t you go?” Anthony asked and you opened your mouth to answer but Mat was quicker.

“She’s got a date.” The tone in which he said it, with so much anger and even a little disgust, set you off.

“Yes, Mat I have a date. I’m sorry that’s such an inconvenience for you. I already apologize about missing tonight’s game but it’s the only night he was free, what did you want me to do?” You really didn’t get it. You had missed games before, it was a normal thing, but he had never reacted like this before and part of you knew it had nothing to do with superstitions.

“You’ve been on what? Four dates? And you’re already putting him before us, your friends.” He knew he was wrong, but all reasoning was overshadowed by his anger. He also knew it wasn’t exactly anger, it was something more complex, something deeper, something that implied more was going on, but he wasn’t ready to realize that.

“God you’re being so fucking childish!” you let out followed by an exasperated breath. All eyes fell on you. The two boys looked taken aback. “You know what? That 's it. I’m leaving.”

Mat and Tito watched you grab your purse and storm out the door before either of them could even stop you, your plans of having lunch together long forgotten.

The sound of the door closing behind you was the last thing heard before the apartment fell into complete silence. A silence he was sure his friend would break in any second to inform him he wasn’t right,

“You do know you’re overreacting, right? I get superstitions and everything, but we’re not gonna lose just because she’s not there.” Anthony finally said, taking a seat next to Mat on the couch.

“I know, I know. I don’t know what got into me.” Mat leaned in, resting his arms on his legs as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Jealousy got into you.”

“Don’t start.” he warned, but there was no point in even trying.

“Come on man. If she was missing the game for any other reason rather than being with another dude you wouldn’t be mad. That plus that little stunt you pulled the other day?”

“I really thought you had a meeting.” he kept trying to convince Anthony, even himself too.

“Barzy we both know I had no meeting. You wanted to spend time alone with her because you like-” That’s when Mat was literally saved by the bell.

You planned on leaving, you really did, but you only made it to your car before guilt kicked in. So you got off the car, made your way back to his apartment and now you waited for him to answer, repeating to yourself how you could be the mature one and push all anger aside just this time. For Mat.

He unlocked the door, unable to hide his surprised when he saw you on his doorstep. He opened up his mouth but nothing came out, he didn’t know what to say.

“I’m really angry at you. Really. But I’d hate myself if you lost because this whole thing got into your head. And don't even try and tell me it won’t because I know you and-”

Words died in your mouth when you felt his arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly against his chest. You didn’t hesitate a second to hug him back.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled against your hair.

“I’m sorry too.” you said back and felt his body relax under your touch. “You better win tonight so I don’t feel guilty.”

“I promise we will.” He pulled away to look down at you before adding: “For you.”

Maybe there was something in the tone he used, maybe it was the tender look in his eyes as he said them or maybe it was the words themselves. Something in the way he finished his sentence made your heart skip a beat. It felt different from other times, there was something different and you couldn’t put your finger on it. Something had changed.

Deciding not to think much about it, you stood on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek before turning around and heading out of the building once again.

Mat hoped you couldn’t notice how he watched you walk away, awestruck look on his face, almost hypnotized. Or how his hand went up to touch where you had kissed him seconds ago. He felt like the biggest cliché in history, his skin still tingling even though your lips were long gone.

You didn’t notice, but Anthony who watched from the couch as the whole scene unfold did. He seemed to be the only one out of the three of you to notice and all he could do was hope you’d eventually realize what he had known for a long time.

3. You are always available for each other + 4. You lose interest on everyone else

You were trying so hard to pay attention to what he was saying. One would think it can’t be that hard to pay attention to someone speaking directly at you, but right now everything seemed ten times more interesting than anything he could say.

It wasn’t his fault, he was doing everything right. He was nice, funny, smart, polite and on top of that handsome. But it just didn’t work, it didn’t click. The first couple dates were nice and you could overlook the fact something seemed to be missing, you thought maybe after getting to know each other it would feel right. Yet almost six dates later you still didn’t feel it and it was getting harder and harder to believe you eventually would.

“Y/N? Are you there?” you were brought back to reality.

“Y-yeah sorry. You were saying something about work, right?”

“Yes, but I think someone is calling you.” He pointed down at your phone placed on the table. You had been so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice.

“Oh, yeah. I’m going to take this, it’ll be a second.”

He nodded and you excused yourself again as you quickly got up with your phone in hand and walked away from the table. Then you answered without even checking who was calling.

“I have an emergency.” You instantly recognized his voice.

“Mat.” you let out, almost like a relieved sigh.

“Yeah, me, Mat. Don’t you have caller ID?” His smartass tone made you roll your eyes but you couldn’t hide the smile on your face.

“I do, I just- What’s the emergency?”

“Remember all that furniture you helped me buy for my guestroom?” How could you forget? You spent hours going from store to store to buy the perfect furniture for Mat’s unused guestroom, which now sat in said room, still in boxes because he was too lazy to build it.

“The one I’ve been telling you you should build for months?”

“Yeah, that. So the thing is my sister is coming tomorrow morning and I completely forgot so I need a kind generous soul to help me build everything before she arrives.”

Looking back at your table you saw your date there waiting for you and felt that guilt in the pit of your stomach because even if it was wrong and you shouldn’t do it you knew what your next step was going to be. There was no point in even pretending you were considering your options, the moment you heard Mat’s voice you knew you’d end up leaving your date early for him.

You tried hard not to think why you were doing this. Why you were leaving behind a really nice guy to help your friend. Why couldn't you feel something for this seemingly perfect guy. Why the moment you heard Mat’s voice you smiled with relief. But luckily for you before you could even begin to connect the dots you arrived at Mat’s place.

Mat opened the door and was a little taken aback by how you looked, he forgot how to breathe for a second. Friends don’t get like that when they see their other friends, he had other friends that were girls and when he saw them dressed up the world didn’t stop like it had just happened with you. He suddenly became a 14 year old boy who didn’t know how to behave around pretty girls and he did what a stupid kid trying to seem cool would do: tease you.

“Well you sure like to dress up for furniture building.” He regretted it the moment he heard himself and as you rolled your eyes in annoyance Mat wanted to punch himself. Hard.

“I’ll explain later. Can I borrow some comfy clothes?” you asked as you walked into his apartment.

“Sure, you know where everything is.” Mat locked the door behind him and watched you walk down the hall to his bedroom.

You reappeared a couple minutes later with one of his sweatpants and old isles shirts on, to him it was the cutest sight ever. You had put your hair up in a bum and taken some of your makeup off. In his eyes you looked even more beautiful than before and he had to remind himself that’s not the kind of thoughts someone has about their friends.

“I was on a date when you called and came straight from there, that’s why I was dressed like that.” you finally explained.

“Shit, sorry. I really didn’t know.” If he was being honest he wasn’t sorry at all, he didn’t know about the date so he obviously didn’t do it on purpose but there was this small part of him that loved the fact you left another guy for him. He mentally high-fived himself.

“Oh don’t worry. You kinda saved me.” Mat had to fight the smile that threatened to appear at your words.

“Not a good date?” There it was again, that little joyous feeling he couldn't explain.

“I mean it was a good date. He’s a good guy and he genuinely seems to like me. The reasonable side of me says I should like him but …”

“But you don’t feel it.” he finished your sentence. You let out a deep sigh.

“I don’t.” You looked up at him and that was enough for him to know what to do. In a second Mat was stepping closer and wrapping you in his arms, right arm drawing soothing circles in your back.

“It’s okay, you shouldn’t have to force it.” He tried to make you feel better but there was no reply. “You don’t wanna talk about it, do you?” You shook your head still resting against his chest. He felt a pang of guilt hit him for being so happy at your failed romance when you were clearly in distress because of it. “We can watch a movie if you want instead of preparing the guest room. Liana can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep in the couch.” Your heart warmed at how considerate he was being, but then again it was Mat, what else were you expecting?

“No, don’t worry, building some swedish furniture will help me clear my mind.” You took a step back, freeing yourself from his embrace. Something you didn’t exactly want but knew if the hug prolonged your mind would go back to that one place you were avoiding tonight.

“Okay if we’re doing this at least let’s have some fun.” he said with his signature playful smirk grabbing his phone. “You order us something to eat, anything you want. I’ll get the beers from the fridge, we can put some good music on and actually enjoy building furniture.” he spoke as he walked to the kitchen.

“Good music as in old Justin Bieber songs?” He stopped for a second as he opened the fridge and couldn’t help the way his smile grew hearing you tease him, glad you weren’t feeling so down after all.

“Yes, good music as in Justin Bieber. Now order something smartass, I’m starving.” he shouted back from the kitchen. You giggled at his response. Music to Mat’s ears.

The rest of the afternoon was spent between cardboard boxes in Mat’s guestroom, eating the pizza you ended up ordering, drinking beer and building furniture between laughs.

At one point you found yourself realizing how easy it all was with Mat. No need to force anything, things just flowed naturally with him. The thought that maybe that connection you sought somewhere else was right there in front of you terrified you, so you pushed it away, letting Mat’s horrible attempt to reach Bieber’s high notes distract you.

5. Your friendship is different than others you have

Movie nights were a tradition between you and Mat. Almost weekly the two of you would end up on his couch watching whatever new movie caught your eye on Netflix. He would never admit it but he loved romcoms, he always pretended to suddenly find them even though sometimes you could see they were already on his list. So like many other nights you ended up watching a romcom, the only difference was this time it wasn’t only you and him.

Like Mat had said his sister was coming to visit for a couple days and staying with him, because of that you assumed movie night wouldn't happen. It was fine, you didn’t have to do movie night every week, sometimes he was on the road or you were too busy. Mat knew it wasn’t an obligation but after seeing you so down the other day he wanted to do anything that could help you distract. When he explained everything to Liana she didn’t mind, she could just stay in the guestroom, but her brother insisted she watched the movie with them because he knew you and knew you’d feel guilty if it seemed like you were interrupting their time together as siblings. So after a lot of begging from him she gave in, only to later regret it so much.

It was painful to watch the two of you being so oblivious as to what the other was feeling. The way he’d look at you in the middle of a romantic scene, Liana swore he probably was recreating it with you in his head. You, however, were a lot better at hiding it, but the movie was incredibly boring and watching the two of you secretly pin for each other was like a car crush, Liana couldn’t look away no matter how painful it was. She just inevitably noticed the way you’d sneak a peek at mat from time to time, how you started sitting closer and closer as the movie went on, how Mat wouldn’t laugh at a lame joke until you did.

She had never seen two friends act like this, she had never seen his brother act like this around other friends. This simply wasn’t a friendship anymore and she wanted to scream at the two of you for being too blind, but her breaking point came when the movie ended.

“What’s with the long face?” Mat asked after seeing the gloomy look you had, eyes fixed on the screen but mind clearly far away.

“Lately it just seems like I’ll never get that.” you let out as you watched the end credits roll on the screen. Like all the romcoms Mat always chose it ended up with the couple together and ready to live their happily ever after.

“What do you mean? All because things didn’t work out with that guy?” Mat paused the movie, not wanting the background music of the credits to bother.

“Not only that. It’s just everyone I meet it doesn’t work out, like there’s always this one thing that I don’t know what it is missing.” Maybe seeing the couple in the movie moved something inside of you, maybe there was a deeper reason behind it you weren’t ready to recognize yet; all of a sudden you were spilling out your love problems. “And I’m just tired, you know? I don’t wanna go through the whole process of meeting someone and getting to know them. I wanna jump straight ahead to us being comfortable around each other and happily together, cuddling and joking around and kissing.”

Liana had to literally bite her tongue to not tell you you already had that right in front of you. Instead she opted for calling it a night, making a mental note to talk about it to her brother tomorrow morning, when he was still asleep enough to actually listen to her instead of shutting everything down the second she came up with the topic, like he always would.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed now.” she added after a loud yawn that was clearly fake.

“Sorry about this again, I didn’t want to interrupt you guys but Barzy insisted.” you apologized once again making her roll her eyes in the sweetest way possible.

“Don’t worry. I really enjoyed the movie.”

“No you didn’t, your brother’s taste in movies sucks.”

“Hey!” Mat threw a cushion your way.

“It really does.” you said throwing the cushion back at him. Mat caught it easily with a cocky smile on his face and was ready to start a fight when Liana interrupted you.

“Goodnight guys.” she said, already turning around to head to the guest room.

“Night.” you and Mat responded at the same time.

Liana disappeared down the hall and you got up with the bowl that used to be full of popcorn on one hand and your empty beer bottle on the other, and headed to the kitchen. Soon enough Mat joined you in the kitchen and you started throwing away the empty box of takeout as he put the dishes on the dishwasher.

It felt weirdly domestic how you’d clean around the kitchen together in comfortable silence, almost like a routine. Mat would never admit it but he loved how at home you seemed in his place, after spending so much time there it did start to feel like a second home, and once again he could not imagine having these little domestic moments with anyone else.

“You know I feel the same most times.” he said so out of the blue that it took you a moment to understand what he was talking about.

“You do?” you asked turning around with furrowed brows and confused grin, but he was too busy putting away the empty bottles to see.

“Why is it that hard to believe?”

“You're a hot multimillionaire elite athlete Mathew. You could have any girl, you won’t end up alone.”

“You say it like it’s a good thing.” he let out accompanied by a chuckle that showed everything but joy. You couldn’t see him because he had his back turned to you but his tone said it all.

“It isn’t?”

“It sucks Y/N. Every time I meet a girl there’s this constant thought in my head ‘she just wants your money’, ‘she just wants to use you as a platform’.” He finally turned around and the sorrowful look on his face showed how serious he was being, which made you feel horrible for throwing such a shallow comment seconds ago.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you felt like that." You walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his torso as he leaned against the counter. His hands that previously rested on each side of the marble surface instantly moved to hold you close. “You never said anything.'' you mumbled against him, cheek glued to his chest.

“It’s okay. I don’t talk about this stuff with anyone.” he tried to make you feel better, hand drawing soothing circles in your back. You thought he was done speaking but after a small pause, almost as if he was debating with himself whether to say it or not, he added: “Just with you I guess.”

“Really?” You poked up your head, chin now laying against him as you looked up at him genuinely surprised. Mat had many other friends, he was a sociable guy. Sure he wasn’t as close as he was with you with every one of them, but still you were sure he had some other pretty close friends apart from you.

“Mhm.” he hummed with a tight lipped smile and then looked down at you. “It’s easier to talk with you, I feel like you get me and you’d never judge me. Like don’t get me wrong I have friends I love, Beau for example, but with you it’s just different. I don’t mind opening up or showing you my insecurities.”

His words shouldn’t have moved you the way they did, but you were feeling every emotion at once. You’d deny it but part of you relished the thought of you taking a special place in his life, a unique one somehow. The other part of you was terrified of what it meant to enjoy the fact he had no other like you.

“I feel the same.” was all you were able to say because it was true, there was no other like Mat in your life. You were sure you could eventually get in and out of relationships, in and out of friendships, but you knew Mat was always going to be there.

You were looking straight into his green eyes, there was a certain spark that you couldn’t figure out what meant and as Mat looked back at you he could see that same spark in yours. There was a silent conversation, an unspoken agreement as you gazed deeply into each other.

“Shit. Sorry.” Liana’s voice suddenly brought you back to reality, a reality in which you and Mat were two best friends standing way too close and looking at each other in a way best friends don’t. She wasn’t sure what she had walked into and she could tell not even the two of you were sure what was going on by the way you quickly took a step back getting away from Mat’s embrace and how he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck avoiding eye contact.

-> 'If you identify with any of the above we’re sorry to tell you: you’re definitely more than friends. But don’t worry! It’s proven that some of the best relationships start as friendships. Go and tell them! They probably feel the same.'

It has been around two weeks since you read that stupid article Tito had sent you and it won’t leave your mind, it’s like the words are engraved in your brain. It’s messing your head to the point you started replaying every moment you and Mat had together, every night spent on his couch watching movies, every big hug after a game, every late night call when either of you was feeling bad, every inside joke you shared. Everything seems to have a new meaning behind it and the worst part is it’s starting to affect your relationship with Mat.

You started taking extra hours of work, spending more time on your hobbies, hanging out with your other group of friends. In the process of keeping yourself busy so your mind won’t wander back to that damn article you stopped seeing or talking to Mar as often as you used to. Even if you aren’t actively trying to ignore him, that’s what ended up happening without you even noticing.

But Mat did notice. It felt like a part of him was missing, like you were slowly slipping away from him and he didn’t know why or what to do. Your absence only made him more painfully aware of how much you meant to him. In those days when he didn’t even get a text from you he realized that new feelings had developed, that he could spend days without talking to other friends and it wouldn’t affect him this much. Once he was brave enough to admit to himself that he indeed had fallen for his best friend everything started making sense, but your absence only started to hurt more.

That’s why Mat decides to show up at your place unannounced. He has no plan whatsoever, he doesn't know what he’s going to say, he just knows he needs things to go back to how they were, even if it means having to push down his feelings. He’d rather endure the daily pain of pretending there’s nothing more than friendship than there actually being nothing at all.

You aren’t expecting anyone so you’re surprised when you hear a knock on your door and even more surprised when you look through the peephole of your door only to find Mat nervously looking at the floor on the other side of your door.

“Mat? What are you doing here?” you ask as you open the door. Distressed is clear in his eyes as he lifts his head to look at you.

“We need to talk.” he states with such a stern tone that’s completely unlike him, denoting how serious he’s about this.

“Ok? Sure come in.” You move to the side to let him walk into your apartment and then lock the door behind you. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Us.” he replies and your heart stops. Anxiety starts building up inside you. That’s the one topic you have been avoiding.

“What about us?” You pretend to be oblivious as to what is going on, like this isn’t the first time you had seen him in days when you’d normally hang out daily.

“Come on Y/N. There’s something going on here.” Mat says but not even himself knows if he is referring to his newly discovered feelings or the fact you have distanced yourself.

You stay silent, painfully aware of what he’s talking about and how much it has affected him, yet still not brave enough to face it. A heavy silence falls upon the room, something you don't think you’ve ever experienced with Mat. Even when you had just started hanging out there never was one of those uncomfortable moments you so desperately wanted to end, everything just worked out so effortlessly with him; but not now, not anymore.

“Did I do something?” he asks and the pure look of sorrow in his face makes your heart break. “I-I don’t know if I did something or said something, but whatever it is I’m so sorry Y/N. If it’s something I said I didn’t mean it I swear and if it’s something I did I probably just wasn’t thinking, you know i do stupid stuff sometimes. I’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose-” he starts pacing up and down the living room, words leaving his mind before he can even think if he is making any sense.

“Mat wait.” you interrupt him, walking up to him and placing your hands on his shoulders to stop him. He looks down at you with glassy eyes and if there’s a piece of your heart that hasn’t broken yet now it does. “You didn’t do anything I promised. If anything I should be the one apologizing. I’m sorry I’ve been a little off lately, it’s just that- I don’t know how to explain it. There’s this one thing that kinda got in my head and I don’t know I haven’t been myself lately, at least not with you. But I promise you didn’t do anything Mat.”

He doesn’t respond, instead without a second of hesitation he leans down and puts his arms around you, pulling you against his chest in a tight hug. You feel him let out a deep breath and every bit of tension leaves his body, showing how much all of this has affected him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks as one of his hands goes to gently stroke your hair.

“It’s not a big deal, don't worry.” you mumble, face still glued to his chest.

It is a big deal, it’s a huge deal because as he hugs you all you can feel is yourself falling deeper and deeper for the amazing guy that is supposed to be just your friend. But how could you not? He was right there begging you to forgive him for something he didn’t even do, just wanting to be there for you. How could you not fall for Mat when in your eyes he is the best man you have ever known?

“I’m here, you know? For anything you need, I’m here.” you hear his whisper against your hair before placing a sweet kiss there. That gesture moves something inside of you and words leave your mouth before you can even process them.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” he simply replies, clearly not noticing the new meaning behind your words.

It takes you less than a second to decide your next move. You could pretend everything is normal and those three words have no added meaning beyond platonic love behind them, or you could once and for all confess what you have been keeping inside for too long now and not even dared to confess to yourself. Once again there really isn’t a choice to be made, your heart has already decided for you long ago, all you have to do is finally follow it.

“No, Mat. I love you. I love love you.” You pull away to look at him, needing him to see how much you mean it. He looks at you confused as you gather every bit of courage you have left to say those 5 words you’ve been trying so hard to push down. “I’m in love with you.”

You can see the wheels turning in his head as he processes what you have said. In a second his eyes go wide and he looks down at you in shock. Mat cannot believe what he’s hearing.

“You love me?!” is all he can say, almost as if he needs confirmation he heard it right, he isn’t dreaming it.

“I do.” you reply in a regretful tone, feeling almost as if you should apologize for it. “Tito sent me this lame article about friends that are more than friends and I should’ve ignored it but I got curious and I read it and I regret it so much. That’s why I’ve been so distante, because that stupid article made me realize I have feeling for you.” You try to explain yourself, trying to justify these feelings even though you know it doesn’t work like that, you can’t blame the article for making you aware of something that was already there.

There’s no answer from Mat and, unlike you normally could, now you can’t read him. You just confessed your feelings to your best friend and there’s no sign whatsoever of what he could be feeling. That’s when that anxious feeling in the middle of your chest starts building, you can feel your heartbeat racing, mouth gets dry. You have to fix it, somehow you have to fix it because the only thing worse than having to love your best friend in secret is losing him and you can’t lose him.

The mere thought of him not being there brings tears to your eyes and Mat is trying so hard to tell you he feels the same, he loves you, but words aren’t coming out and all he can do is look at you speechless as you break down in front of him.

“It’s okay if you don’t love love me, I really don’t want to ruin our friendship. We can pretend this never happened. You know I’m probably just confused, I’m sure these feelings can go away, I’ll make them go away-”

“I love you too.” he cuts you off.

Now you’re the one looking shocked. You aren’t sure what you expected would happen when you confessed your feelings. Part of you obviously hoped those feelings were reciprocated, but you didn’t know how Mat would feel and somehow him telling you he loves you back baffles you even though it’s the best outcome you could’ve imagined.

“You do?” you ask with doe eyes full of hope that warm him to the core.

“I do.” You can’t help but smile at the way he’s feverishly nodding his head as he says it, or maybe is the fact the man you love loves you too and you don’t have to hide it anymore. Either way the brightest smile appears in your face and warms Mat to the core. He cups your face in his hands bringing you closer, needing you closer. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” you repeat but it ends up sounding like a whisper, all your breath is taken away by the way you’re getting closer and closer. Your gaze drifts from his eyes to his mouth, back to his eyes just in time to catch him doing the exact same.

He starts leaning down slowly and trying to be gentle, to take his time after waiting so long for this moment, however you can’t wait. You raise yourself on your tip toes and finally connect your lips to his; you accidentally bump his nose with yours and nearly miss his lips since you closed your eyes before going for it, but nevertheless you finally kiss him. He’s surprised at first but then you can feel him smile, a small chuckle leaving his lips and dying in yours. It makes you giggle, turning the kiss into something far from the straight out of a movie first kiss you imagined but not making it any less perfect.

You both dreamed about this moment too many times but it’s better than anything else you could have dreamed of. He can taste that strawberry chapstick you always use like he knew he would if he ever had the privilege of finding out what your lips felt like against his, and now that he knows he’s sure it’s his new favorite flavor.

You title your head slightly, your lips now fitting perfectly with his, like it's meant to be. One of his hands moves to your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer as yours meet in the back of his neck. The kiss becomes deeper, it’s no longer clumsy and shy like in the beginning. You’re past that. You’re feeling a thousand different emotions at once and trying to express them wordlessly with your lips.

It could’ve lasted forever, neither of you would’ve complained, but eventually it ends. He pulls back sheepishly and playfully rubs the tip of his nose against yours, then kisses it. You open your eyes to see his shining bright. He’s beaming down at you and heat rushes to your cheeks but for the first time you don’t feel the need to hide it or deny what he provokes in you, this time you embrace it as your lips curl up in a smile just as big as his.

“That was long overdue.” he says, arms still wrapped around each other, not wanting the moment to end.

“We have to thank Beau’s article for that.” you joke, but is it really a joke? If you think about it, reading that lame article weeks ago triggered the whole domino effect that ended up with the two of you right now standing in your living room, bodies glued together, lovestruck looks written all over your faces.

“Oh no we’re never telling him it was because of his article, he’d never shut up about it.” Mat dramatically rolls his eyes making you laugh but you have to agree, Anthony doesn’t need to know the key role he unknowingly played in getting his two friends together.

“Deal.”

“Wanna seal the deal with another kiss?” He wiggled his eyebrow with a playful grin on his face.

“I’d love to.” you reply, smile matching his as you start leaning closer.

aaaaand the end! hope you liked it! like and reblogs and any type of feedback is obviously appreciated, thank you for reading!!

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[youunravelme]

I would love to see  jealous barzal but won’t admit to it would find it so cute

ANON! I ALSO WOULD LOVE TO SEE JEALOUS BARZY

so here goes nothing

it shouldn't have been that big of a deal, honestly, you were wearing his jersey, everyone who mattered knew who you were going home with.

everyone but the 6'2" blond you were talking to.

truth be told, mat never considered himself a jealous person, he was pretty easy going as it was. but there was something about seeing the love of his life laugh at another guy's lame ass joke that pissed him off.

"take a deep breath, barzy," tito said. "she's coming home with you at the end of the night."

"yeah, but does he know that?"

“i don’t know—“

mat put his drink down. "he's about to." he was shoving his way through the crowd until he got close enough to hear the conversation.

"you wanna go home?"

mat watched as the smile on your face dropped and you took a step back. "i need to go find my boyfriend."

the blond's face dropped its smirk. he reached out and grabbed your arm. "you don't have to pretend to have a boyfriend, baby. i'm a good guy."

mat had had enough. he crossed the final few feet till your back met his chest. "take your hand off my girlfriend."

the blond looked at him rather unimpressed. maybe it was the two inches of height he had on mat.

it didn't seem to matter to mat though. he'd throw hands the second you were out of the firing range.

"or what?"

you spoke up before mat could say anything. "there are a few hockey players in here who would willingly join in an ass beating if they need to. so listen to my boyfriend, and let me go."

the blond was gone a second later.

you turned around and smiled at mat, and it was like any initial frustration at the situation had disappeared from his mind. there was only you and him.

"you know," you said, sliding your hands up his chest until they connected at the back of his neck, playing with the hair there. "you're really hot when you're jealous."

mat scoffed. "i wasn't jealous."

but you hummed, clearly not buying it. "okay, so i can let that guy take me home?"

his hands snaked around your waist. "not a chance."

"and why is that?" you asked.

mat leaned down until his lips brushed yours. "because you're mine."

[matwith1t]

A/N: ‘Tis been a while 🤧 But life has slowed down a bit for me to finish my attempt at a 4+1 fic! Yay! I treasure all of your thoughts so dearly 🥺 Whether it be in the tags, an ask, or a reblog 🥺 I love them 🥺 I hope you’ve all had a wonderful day so far!! Sending everyone good vibes 🥰 I also like to think the ending of this fic is the ending to the 2021 season we deserved  🔪

Summary: The four times you watch Mat lose a hockey game, and the one time you watch him win // 4+1

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: Few Swear Words  // WC: 11.3K // Fluff

ONE

“You’ve never really watched a hockey game?”

Settling in your seats, you shrugged your shoulders and took a sip of your drink, “I’ve watched hockey, just not…actively.”

Your friend, Grace, blinked at you, “That makes no sense.”

“Like, I’ve seen bits and pieces of games if I’m at a sports bar or I’ll have it on as background noise,” you let your shoulders fall and let out a sigh, ”but I haven’t actively sat down and paid attention to a game.”

Grace rolled her eyes and bumped her shoulder against yours, “You’re insane. At least the Isles have been on a winning streak so it’ll be a fun one.”

“How many have they won?”

“Fourteen,” Grace smiled as she turned her attention toward the ice to watch the players in white jersey’s skate around, “My cousin said that they’re so close to breaking a franchise record.”

You followed her gaze and stared at the ice, “Which one is your cousin again?”

“Number eighteen,” she lifted her hand to point on the ice with a smile on her face, “Tito.”

Just like you followed her gaze on the ice, you followed the invisible path of her pointer finger to where her cousin, Tito––number eighteen––was rapidly passing the puck back and forth with another player; a number thirteen.

From your seats, you didn’t have a clear view as to what the person Tito was warming up with looked like. You couldn’t see him clearly, but you could make out his general attributes. He looked taller than Tito, had a strong jawline, a youthful smile that you just knew was contagious, and flecks of brunette hair stuck out from the back of his helmet.

“Who’s that?”

Grace had her drink raised up to take a sip, but stifled out a laugh into her plastic cup before answering, “That,” she raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Is Mat Barzal.”

Your stare lingered on him as you saw a sparkle of light reflect the chain on his neck, “Mat…”

“I was banned from getting with anyone on the team,” Grace’s voice held a devious undertone, and when you broke your gaze away from Mat to look at her, her eyes matched her voice, “But you’re not related to anyone on the team.”

“Grace…” you said her name in a warning tone, but her eyes glistened even more as she plotted in her head.

She held her hands up in defense and snickered, “We’ll watch the game, go out for drinks after and then Mat––”

“Grace.”

“Whatever happens, happens!” She let out a laugh as the players skated off the ice and to their benches.

You glared at her and soon enough, the puck dropped, and the game started.

With shoulders touching for the whole game, Grace gave you a play-by-play of the game like she was your own personal announcer. While you appreciated Grace’s hockey crash course, you admittedly enjoyed the sound of the skates gliding across the ice and the puck slapping between sticks more. Captivated by the game, your eyes never left the ice, and as your eyes followed the puck, they also scanned the ice for a number thirteen.  

“What the fuck was that!” Grace yelled as she stood up with the rest of the fans in protest.

You were too lost in your head to know what had happened, but after you blinked a few times, you saw number thirteen––Mat––angrily exchange words with a Bruins player. And with a referee between them to ensure they kept their distance, Mat was off to the penalty box.

Grace sat down with a huff and crossed her arms, “Such a bad call.”

You wanted to ask her what exactly happened, but you felt the anger radiating off her. Instead, you averted your gaze from your friend and stared at Mat. He took off his helmet, shook out his hair and ran a hand through it.

“So now Anders…” Grace started off with another explanation, but your vision was solely focused on Mat breathing heavily from inside the penalty box.

The atmosphere of the arena, and being surrounded by a sea of orange and blue, was an exhilarating rush that you missed the moment the game ended. Instead of the excited cheers from when the game first started, fans exited the arena with disdainful words at the Islanders loss. You let Grace sit in silence, allowing her to collect her thoughts, and with one last deep breath, she faced you with a painful smile.

“Come on, we’ll go to a bar and wait for them.”

You nodded and blindly followed her out of the arena.

“Them?” you asked as you made it out of your section and into the concourse.

Grace’s painful smile turned into a mischievous smirk, “Yeah, I texted Tito and told him to bring along Mat.”

“Grace––”

“He had a tough game,” she covered up her plan with an excuse just as phony as her voice, “He needs a drink, or two…Or someone nice to talk to and––”

“Grace.”

“He’s a nice guy!” She defended herself as she opened the door for both of you to exit, the October chill hitting you extra hard with it being toward the end of the month, “He’s fun, carries conversation well, is very pretty, and painfully single.”

You snorted and followed her down the sidewalk, “Painfully single?”

Grace nodded her head admittedly, “Hasn’t a real relationship in quite some time.” You hummed in response, a hopeful feeling in the pit of your stomach rising, as Grace turned her head towards you with a smirk, “Hm indeed.”

You shoved her shoulder and changed the topic of conversation as you walked toward Grace’s car. And when Grace tried to casually bring Mat up on the drive to the bar, you shut her down. It wasn’t until the two of you got to the bar, and Grace received a text from her cousin saying that they were on their way, that you faced her and asked about him yourself.

Grace laughed, “He’ll be here soon to answer all of your questions about him.”

With a deep breath, you circled your hands around your water glass and glared at her. The whole night she was very clear with her intentions on teasing you about Mat. And now when you wanted to talk about him, she was the one who shut you down. But you followed her lead and chatted about a new restaurant that popped up in her neighborhood the other week.

Grace was in the middle of detailing the wine menu of the new restaurant when she abruptly stopped, stood up in the booth you were sitting in, and waved her hands above her head, “Tito!” Your eyes widened, “Mat!”

Your heart dropped down deep into your stomach.

You sat frozen in your seat when Grace left the booth and hugged her cousin, “What a tough loss,” she patted Tito’s back.

Tito shrugged his shoulders, “It’s just a hockey game,” Grace shoved his shoulder and he rolled his eyes, “Okay, fine, yeah it’s shit.” Tito’s eyes momentarily glanced down at you still sitting, you knew Grace said that she was with a friend, but you thought it’d be best to actually introduce yourself.

“Sorry for the loss,” you smiled sympathetically at Tito and stood up, “Grace told me you guys were on a winning streak.” Your eyes shifted over to Mat to see him intently staring at you, “I’m, Y/N.”

“I’ve heard about you from this one,” Tito slung an arm around Grace’s shoulder and pulled her in close, “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Tito, and this––” Tito lightly kicked the side of Mat’s calf, who blinked a few times to regain focus, “Is Mat, he also plays hockey on the Islanders.”

“Oh, she knows Mat.”

At Grace’s comment, your mouth dropped, Tito tipped his head back in laughter, and Mat’s face flushed as he let out a small laugh with his eyes falling down to the ground. But when he looked back up to your eyes, he bit the inside of his cheek to contain his smirk.

You glared at Grace, “Not before today.”

Mat’s face was the one to drop now, as he tilted his head with eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Tito let out another laugh––this one louder––as Grace joined in. Tito wiped tears away from the corner of his eyes and excused himself to go buy a round of drinks for the table.

Grace slid back into her spot, you sat down in yours, and Mat slid in next to you. You felt your body stiffen and moved your hands from the cushion to on top of the table.

“How’ve you been, Mat?” Grace rested one of her elbows on the table and leaned her cheek against her palm, “Any girls?”

Mat chuckled, and when he rolled his eyes, you saw him glance at you from the corner of your eye, “Always skipping the small talk, Grace,” Mat shook his head, “But no, just hockey.”

“You and Y/N are so boring,” Grace let out a playful dramatic sigh, but you saw the glint of teasing in her eyes as she glanced at you, “Both painfully single.”

Your mouth dropped at her bluntness and Mat laughed.

“Hockey looks like a commitment in itself, Grace,” your eyes narrowed in on your friend, trying to cover up her obvious set up attempt, “Where’s your boyfriend?”

Grace flipped you off and rolled her eyes, “You haven’t watched a game before today, don’t act like you know what kind of ‘commitment’ hockey is,” she raised her fingers to put air quotes around commitment.

Embarrassment was the only emotion you felt take over your entire body. And you felt yourself drown even more when you heard a hearty laugh from the person next to you.

Tito came back and put a tray of drinks on the table, “Did I hear that correctly?” He passed drinks around the table and raised his eyebrows at you, “Or was Grace lying?”

“Well, like––It’s not––I mean, I’ve seen hockey before but––”

Grace nudged her shoulder against yours, “I’m joking,” she offered you a supportive smile a–-you got this––message hidden beneath her tone, as she turned her back to you to catch up on the latest family drama with her cousin.

That left you and Mat alone.

With a deep breath, you circled your hand around the pint glass that Tito brought over and took a sip of the beer. And you didn’t stop siping your beer until Mat let out a soft chuckle.

“Have you really not watched a hockey game before today?”

With one last sip, you set the glass down on the table and fully faced Mat. He had a small smile on his face as he awaited your answer, “Yes and no,” he raised his eyebrows, silently asking you to explain. So you gave him the same spiel you gave Grace earlier about how you had never actively paid attention to a hockey game.

“So that’s why you didn’t know who I was,” Mat smirked, his ego seemingly repaired, as he took a sip of his own drink.

You scoffed, “You all look the same with your helmets on, I wouldn’t have recognized you even if I did watch hockey.”

Mat had his glass up to take another drink, but he laughed into it instead and set it down on the tabletop. He ran a hand through his hair, “That just means you should watch more games.”

“That depends,” you said as you felt Grace tap the top of your foot with hers, silently telling you that you were doing a great job. You felt excitement brew in the pit of your stomach because it looked like Mat was enjoying himself just as much as you, “Will you win the next one I watch?”

Mat scratched his nose and dramatically took in a deep breath as a joke, “I’d like to hope so, but I think you might need a new shirt,” he slightly leaned forward and took the material of the sleeve of your shirt between his fingers. Your breath caught in your throat as he rubbed the fabric between his thumb and index finger. And when he dropped your short sleeve, his knuckles grazed your bicep for half a second, “How can you go to an Islanders game and not wear any Islanders gear?”

With your brain still shut down and only thinking back to the way his touch felt on your skin, you tried to think of something quick.

“Grace asked me to go last minute,” the excuse flowed easily out of your mouth for your brain completely void of any thoughts except for the feeling of Mat’s touch that still lingered on your skin, “I didn’t have enough time to get a shirt.”

Mat hummed and kept his confident eyes locked on you as he took a sip of his beer, “We’ll have to change that for the next game.”

–––

TWO

You heard the seething rain pelt against the window as you made your way from the kitchen of your apartment to the living area. With a steaming cup of hot tea in between your hands, and a blanket hung over your shoulders that dragged on the ground behind you, you scurried to the couch where you heard your phone ringing.

With your socks shuffling along the hardwood floor, you moved fast to catch your phone before it went to voicemail, but tried to move as carefully as you could with a hot beverage.

When you reached for your phone on the couch cushion, you saw a selfie of Mat––his morning hair sticking up, one eye squinted shut, with a smug smirk gracing his lips, as a sliver of his collarbone was barely visible on the screen. The selfie of him in the morning took up your screen, and you fondly gazed at it for a second, but then slid your phone and lifted it up to your ear.

“Hey,” you smiled as you slowly sat down on the couch. But when you reached over to set your tea down on the coffee table, some hot water spilled over the cup, “Fuck,” you muttered under your breath and shook out your hand.

You heard Mat’s chuckle on the other end, along with a smile, “Everything good?”

“Yeah, yeah, just spilled tea on my hand,” you said as you wrapped the blanket further around your body and tucked yourself into the arm of the couch, “Ready for tonight’s game?”

Mat let out a sigh, “A little nervous.”

“Where are you?”

“Sitting on my bed in the hotel room,” you could picture him running a hand through his hair, “Alone.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together, “Where’s Tito?”

“I told him to head over without me,” Mat breathed out softly, “Wanted to call you before the game.”

You felt your heart swell in your chest as an immense smile lit up your face and caused your cheeks to hurt, “Are you in a suit at least?” Mat hummed in an affirmative response, “What are you wearing?”

Mat’s loud laugh caused your already enormous smile to widen, “If you ask me that, expect the question to be turned around to you.”

Your laugh mirrored his as you leaned the side of your head against the back cushion, “Well, I’m not wearing anything too exciting,” you played into his last comment.

“I’m all ears,” the smugness in his voice was as loud as the rain pouring down, and you could just picture him putting an arm behind his head, a shit-eating smirk on his face as he rested his head against the headboard.

You chuckled, “I’m only wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and wrapped in a blanket.”

“What shirt?”

“The one you bought me,” you rolled your eyes, “The blue Islanders shirt with your name on the back.”

“Ah,” Mat made a tsk noise in the back of his throat, “That’ll definitely give me motivation for the game.”

“Shut up,” you felt your stomach churn with embarrassment, but you couldn’t help but smile when you heard his sweet-sounding laugh.

Once Mat’s laughter died down, he cleared his throat, “Is Grace coming over to watch the game?”

You shook your head, “Just me tonight.”

“Will you know what’s going on?”

You scoffed at his comment, “With the games I’ve watched so far this season, I can follow along.”

Mat snickered, “If you say so…”

You let out an airy laugh, the conversation dwindling down as you knew he had to leave for the arena soon. And in the few months you had been seeing each other, you knew Mat would sit peacefully on the phone in silence if he truly wanted to avoid something.

You circled back to his early statement from when he first called, “Why are you nervous?”

He let out a deep breath, “I haven’t been playing well.”

“That’s not true,” you tried to encourage him, because even though you thought he was an excellent player, when you watched the games with Grace she did say how Mat was having a mediocre season. “You’ve set up great plays, your team is second in the eastern division–-You have nothing to worry about.”

Mat let out another deep breath, not convinced of your words, “Have you ever seen us win a game?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought back to all of the games you’ve watched on T.V. and in person. But you couldn’t find a specific memory of either the stadium erupting in cheers at the end of a game, or the sound of content broadcasters recapping an Islanders win.

“I’m sure I have…” your words weren’t as convincing as you’d like them to be.

“What was the last game you watched?”

“The Saturday game,” you answered him.

“Did you watch the game on Tuesday?”

You shook your head, “Got held up with work. Why?

Mat hummed, “Just wondering.”

The two of you fell back into silence, and while hearing him breathe on the other end was just as calming as hearing him talk, you knew he was cutting it close with his time. You didn’t want to leave him, but you knew he had to go. And it seemed like he had the same thought as you as he let out an exhausted breath.

“I should probably go soon.”

You fiddled with the corner of the blanket, trying to keep your dismal voice to a minimum, “Probably.”

You heard Mat get up from the bed as he let out a yawn, “I miss you.”

A delicate smile tugged the corner of your lips upward, “I miss you too.”

“We fly back early tomorrow morning.”

You knew he was coming back to New York tomorrow, but you still felt excited when you heard him detail his travel plans to you, “I can pick you up?”

The sound of a door closing on the other end clued you into how Mat left his room, but he didn’t leave your phone call yet, “There’s a shuttle picking us up and dropping us off at the arena. My car’s there.” You nodded your head, tightening the blanket around your shoulders, “But I have the day off,” Mat quickly added in, “I can head right to your place.”

“If you’re not too tired,” you wanted to spend time with him, but with how exhausted he sounded, you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted alone time.

“Trust me, there’s no place I’d rather be right now than in bed with you,” Mat said as you heard the ding of the elevator, “I’ll call you later?”

You nodded your head against the couch cushion, “Yeah that sounds good,” you could hear the exhaustion in his voice, “Good luck!”

Mat tried to let out a small laugh, but it sounded more pitiful and self-loathing than anything else, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When the call ended, you spent the rest of your time until the game started mindlessly scrolling on your phone. The TV was on the channel for the game, and when the commentators talked about how the Islanders played on their Saturday game versus their Tuesday game…your interest piqued.

Your thoughts went back to Mat asking about the previous games you had watched. You had watched the Saturday game…and they lost. But you did not watched the Tuesday game…and they won. You knew how superstitious some hockey players were. But in the three months you had been dating Mat, he never gave off the aura of needing to have certain practices in place to play a good game…but he loved to win.

He loved to win almost more than anything in the world.

You unwrapped the blanket from your shoulders and walked to your room to pull out a pen and notepad. Once you had those materials, you sat back down on the couch and opened up the NHL app. You documented every Islanders game you’ve attended in your camera roll, and did your best to remember which ones you watched on TV.

And when you finished organizing the games you’ve watched into columns of WON and LOST…there were no dates in the WON column.

A nervous feeling bubbled up in your stomach, but then the rational part of your brain weighed in and said no. Your mind told you there was no correlation between you watching and them losing. So you got comfortable on the couch and turned the volume up.

The first period was fine, the second period was bad, and the third period was a tragedy.

You debated on turning off the game, but you wanted to prove to yourself that you weren’t the problem. But that confidence dwindled away with each goal scored against the Islanders.

You waited a few hours until you figured Mat would be back in his hotel room. Biting a piece of loose skin by your nail, you sent a text to Mat: Are you up to talk tonight?

It took nearly twenty minutes for Mat to respond: Feeling exhausted, already in bed about to fall asleep.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach. It already sounded like he had an inclination that he lost a game whenever you watched.…Your thoughts only spiraled more negatively until you received another text from him.

Can’t wait to see you tomorrow :)

You crawled into bed feeling the tiniest bit better, but still had a queasy feeling in your stomach as you fell asleep with your mind circling about Mat.

It could have been twenty minutes, or ten hours later, you wouldn’t know. But what you did know was that there was a knock at your door. You thought it was something from a dream, but the knocking became progressively louder. Bleary-eyed, you kicked off your sheets and rubbed your eyes with your fist as you made your way to the door.

Peeking through the peephole, you saw a very exhausted looking Mat. Unlocking all of your locks, you opened the door and tiredly smiled at him.

Mat let out a soft chuckle, one that made you fall for him even more, and took your hand in his when he stepped into your apartment, “You look as tired as I feel.”

You blinked a few times, trying to wake up so you could fully appreciate the warmness of his hand in yours as he led you to your bedroom. Once you saw your bed, you dropped his hand and slid back under the covers. Mat wasn’t too far behind. He kicked off his shoes and took off his shirt, so that he was only in his sweatpants, and crawled in right next to you.

Immediately, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into him so that your back was firmly pressed up against his chest. He let out one of the biggest sighs of relief that you had ever heard, and it eased the doubts that swirled around your mind the previous night before you fell asleep.

Mat pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “I can’t tell you how happy I am to be here.”

“In a bed?” You mumbled, still feeling half asleep, as you picked his hands off you for a second to adjust yourself. Once your body was facing him, and you nuzzled your head into his warm chest, Mat’s arms wound back around your body.

“With you.”

You smiled and pressed an innocent kiss to his chest, “Sorry about the loss last night.”

Mat took in a deep breath, and you felt him hold it in for a few seconds before he let it out, “Let’s not talk about that. I wanna sleep.”

Without giving him a response, you nodded your head against his chest. And with one last kiss pressed to your forehead, you fell asleep with the one person who always brought out the best in you.

–––

THREE

“Let’s turn the game on.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on,” Grace whined as she took a sip of her wine, “I thought I was coming over to watch the game.” She gave you a pointed look, “But you have me looking at kitchenware.”

You pointed back to your laptop that was on the coffee table, an assortment of kitchen plates and glasses pulled up on the screen with full brightness, “Mat’s moving and I want to get him nice plates!”

Grace scoffed, “You do know why he’s moving, right?”

“Said he wanted a bigger place,” you shrugged your shoulders.

With a snort into her wine glass, Grace had to set it down as she threw her head back against the couch and cackled. “He is one person, why do you think he’d want a bigger place?” You shrugged your shoulders and waited until all of her laughter was out until she continued, “He’s going to ask you to move in with him.”

Your mouth dropped and eyes widened, “No, that’s––No. We’ve only been dating for like six months. He still likes his own space after a game, and––No. There’s no way.”

Grace’s smirk only widened at your denial, “Well, maybe not now, but give him a year or so and I bet you’ll be out of your shoebox of an apartment.”

You glared at her, “I like my shoebox.”

“He took you to see this new place before he bought it?” Grace asked and you nodded slowly, “And he made sure you liked it?” Again, you nodded your head, “He’s so far gone for you.”

“Grace.”

“I’m piecing together things you’ve told me of Mat and from what Tito has told me!” Grace held her hands up in defense, “It’s a good thing he’s seeing a future with you in it.” And with her earnest words, she moved toward you on the couch, and placed a hand on your thigh, “So why don’t you want to watch the game?”

With a sigh, you shut your laptop and faced her woeful eyes, “He always loses when I watch.”

“Ha,” Grace let out a single sound, thinking you were joking, but when she saw your eyes downcast on your crossed legs, she gave your knee a squeeze, “I guarantee you that that’s impossible for them to have lost every game you’ve watched.”

You held up your index finger, signaling for her to wait, as you hurried into your room and pulled out the notepad you started keeping track of three months ago. You dropped it on her lap and she looked down at it, looked back up at you, and then flipped a few pages over.

“Shit,” she chuckled, “They really do lose every game.”

You groaned, “And they’ve been doing so well recently, I don’t want to mess them up!”

Grace waved you off and placed the notepad on top of your laptop, “I can assure you Mat is not superstitious about that stuff,” she offered you a soft smile, “He would want you to watch the game.”

You shook your head in protest.

“I’m turning it on.”

“No you’re not––”

Grace swiped the remote from the coffee table before you could reach for it, and turned on the Islanders hockey game. And right when she turned it on, the camera was on a close up of Mat––who was smiling ear to ear––as the television screen went to a replay of the goal Mat just scored.

“See!” Grace gestured toward the T.V., “He’d want you to watch so you can tell him how nice of a goal he scored.” You flipped her off as you felt the insides of your stomach grow hot, but Grace didn’t pay any mind to your embarrassment, “It’s the third period, they’re up by three––The Flames have no goals––and there’s six minutes left in the game.”

Wringing your hands together in nervousness, you glanced up at the television, “I guess we can watch.”

Grace let out a satisfactory smile and moved right next to you to lean her head on your shoulder, “They’re a good hockey team, there’s no way they’ll blow a three nothing lead with barely any time left.”

But Grace had spoken too soon.

A minute after you tuned into the game, the Flames scored a goal. You turned your head toward Grace with a grimace, but she waved you off. Then Tito got a minor penalty for hooking, and the Flames scored again on a power play.

“Turn it off,” you buried your head in your hands, “They’re up by one, turn it off before they lose.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Grace chirped, “There’s less than two minutes, they can’t possibly––”

“And the Flames tie it up!”

You let out a groan and lifted your head to peek through the slits of your fingers to see the Flames celebrating the goal. The camera panned to the Islanders’ bench, and they all looked dejected, but also confused as to how they let the lead slip away that quickly.

You got up from the couch, “I’ll be in the kitchen for the rest of the game.”

“No you’re not,” Grace grabbed onto your forearm and pulled you back down on the couch, “It’s not your fault that they can’t keep a lead.”

“Explain to me how we’ve been watching for five minutes and the Isles blew it?” you whined pathetically, heart clenching in your chest because all you wanted was for Mat to succeed and be happy. But it was hard when you wanted to watch him succeed, but whenever you did watch him, he lost.

She dropped your arm and tried her best to comfort you, “Go to the kitchen and I’ll tell you what happens in overtime.”

Jumping up from the couch, you sped into the kitchen with your arms crossed over your chest. Pacing around in a small circle in your kitchen, you heard Grace shout at the television whenever the Islanders did something she liked and whenever she thought a poor play was made. But there were a few moments of silence, and then she walked into the kitchen.

With wide eyes, you awaited for the verdict of the game. She winced, “It’s going to a shootout.”

“Jesus Christ,” you swore under your breath, “See! I can’t watch the games––”

“At least watch the first shot,” Grace tilted her head with a sympathetic smile, “It’s Mat.”

You didn’t want to watch it. This game only solidified your belief that the New York Islanders lost every game you watched. But if Mat was up first, then you could turn the game off after him. Reluctantly, you nodded and Grace dragged you into the living area just as the commercial break went back to the game.

Holding your breath, you squeezed your hands into a fist as you watched Mat skate around in a circle before taking the puck. He skated from the center line, handling the puck well, and when he bought his stick back to shoot, the puck went wide. The camera zoomed in on him after his failed goal, and you could clearly read his lips yelling out, fuck, in frustration.

“I’m turning it off.”

“No!” Grace went to steal the remote from your hands, but you held it up over your head, out of reach from her, “I think Tito might do a shootout.”

“I can’t––”

“He’s my cousin,” Grace pleaded, “Family. I have to be supportive.” She dramatically batted her eyelashes at you, pleading for you not to turn off the game.

You knew it was a ploy for her to get you to watch the rest of the game, but you still easily fell into her trap. You wish you hadn’t listened to her because Tito didn’t get a chance to shoot in the shootout.

And the Islanders lost.

“Damn,” Grace side-glanced at you, “You might really be a bad luck charm.”

–––

FOUR

The Islanders had made it all the to the second round in their journey to the Stanley Cup.

And since the start of their playoff run, you’ve successfully steered clear of watching a full Islanders game. You would either always call, text, or see Mat off before a game to wish him luck. Before the first game of the first round, you promised him to watch––and you did––but it was the last time you made that promise after they were demolished by the opposing team. But you got along fine talking to Mat about the games he played…you just had to stay away from specific details.

Grace helped you out a bit and would fill you in if Mat had any stand out plays. And you always read every game recap and watch every post-game media availability. While you did try and watch at least a few minutes of every period, you never wanted to watch for too long in fear of whatever curse you had would come up.

But there was no way to escape this game.

You fixed Mat’s tie around his neck as the two of you stood by the door of Mat’s new apartment. After you were done fiddling with his tie, you placed both hands on his chest and looked up at him. He placed a hand on your hip and smiled, “I’m excited for you to be there tonight.”  

You let out a nervous chuckle and tried to conceal your painful smile as much as possible, “I’m glad my schedule has cleared up a bit…” you told him a little white lie, “You’ve been playing amazing.”

Mat wiggled his eyebrows and you swatted his chest. But before your hand made its way back down to your side, he caught it with his free hand and laced your fingers together, “And you’ll get to see me live finally.”

With a roll of your eyes, you squeezed his hand, “I won’t get the nice closeups of you like I do with the ones on my T.V. though”

“You’re having a close up right now,” Mat whispered as he leaned his forehead against yours, “And you can have one again tonight.”

“Oh, can I?” You raised an eyebrow.

Mat smirked and let out a single breathy laugh through his nose, “You can have all the closeups you want.”

You raised a hand and let your fingertips softly graze over Mat’s facial hair. With it being game five of the second round, his beard had grown out quite nicely and was now past the stubble phase. You cupped his cheek; and Mat closed his eyes as he nuzzled against your hand, his beard tickling your palm.

Leaning in slightly, you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Good luck,” you whispered.

Mat cleared his throat, an ahem sound coming from the back of his throat as he moved his face in front of yours. You blankly stared at him and he intentionally stared back at you.

He pinched your hip, “If you’re getting a close up tonight I want a real kiss.”

A monotonous laugh escaped from your lips, and you let the hand that was cupping the side of his face trail to behind his neck. You also let go of holding his hand, and brought it up to the side of his neck. An easy smile lit up Mat’s face as your fingers played with the strands of his long hair.

And this time when you leaned in, you pressed a gentle, but lingering kiss to his lips. You felt Mat smile as he received a kiss exactly how he wanted. And you felt yourself begin to smile too as you felt his fingers creep around your waist. With your arms wound around his neck, you urged him forward, holding him close as he deepened the kiss. Mat made another noise in the back of his throat––a sound of content––as his hand inched its way under your shirt until his palm was flat against your lower back, pressing you even closer into him.

Just when Mat parted his lips against yours, you slowly broke away from the kiss.

Mat breathed heavily and you patted his chest, “You don’t want to be late.”

Groaning about how the kiss was cut short, Mat tucked his head into the crook of your neck. Starting at your collarbone, his beard tickled your skin as he peppered kisses all along your neck to just below your ear, “I’ll score a goal for you tonight.”

You stifled out a laugh because he promised you that before every game. And like the first game of his you watched after he first asked you out, you felt an excited swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

“I’ll be watching.”

With a sigh, and one last squeeze of your hips, Mat pressed one last chaste goodbye kiss to your lips before straightening up, “Make sure you wear the jersey I got you.”

You scoffed, placing both palms on his chest to push him out the door, “I’ll wear what I want.”

Mat tipped his head back and laughed loudly; he had a foot out the door, but still had his head leaned in towards you, “I love you.”

The phrase was still new––only having exchanged the words for the first time a couple weeks ago––but you still felt as giddy as the first night Mat told you. You bit the inside of your cheek, and tucked your chin into your chest to ease the glowing feeling you felt in the pit of your stomach.

Unable to resist his charm, you leaned forward once more, and pecked his lips, “I love you, too.”

There was no doubt Mat’s smile shinned just as bright as the feeling you felt in the middle of your chest. You were positive there was no greater amount of happiness you could ever possibly feel in your lifetime after he said those three words to you.

“If you love me, wear my jersey.”

And with that, he swiftly walked through the door. His happiness left you high in the clouds, but with his comment, he left you speechless. Even though you could’ve swatted his chest one last time, or provided him with a remark that would slash his ego in half…you still stood at the door with a blinding smile on your face.

––

The ride back to Mat’s apartment was silent.

You knew how the game would end as you fixed Mat’s tie before he left his place. You knew how it was going to end as you slipped on his jersey he asked you to wear. And you knew the night wasn’t going to hold as much banter like it did earlier after the Islanders were down by four points heading into the third period.

Unsurprising to you, the Islanders had lost a game you watched.

You had carpooled to the game with Grace, not wanting to have two cars in the arena, but now you were questioning if you should’ve brought two cars. You had been with Mat all day up until he had to leave for the game, and you knew that he liked to have time to himself after a game; whether they won or lost. And now you were driving his car back to his place, as he stared at the street lights in silence with a clenched jaw.

The overthinking churned in your head just as bad as the overwhelming negative nerves in your stomach. Did he even want you at the game? Did he want you back at his place? Did he even want to talk to you? You couldn’t help stop the insecurities that easily seeped their way from the depths of your mind, so you tried to take every short cut you knew back to Mat’s place to make the drive faster.

When you finally parked in Mat’s spot at his place, and he let out an agitated sigh, you looked over at him the same time you lifted up the emergency break, “Do you want me to leave?”

Mat unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to you with furrowed eyebrows, “Why…Why would I want you to leave?”

You shrugged your shoulders and gnawed on your bottom lip, avoiding eye contact with him, “I know you sometimes like to be left alone after a game…”

Mat’s stare continued to burn through you the longer both of you sat in silence in his car. And when the automatic lights on the inside dimmed to darkness, Mat placed a hand on top of yours, “I want you to stay.” You tore your vision away from your lap to look up at him. And even though it was dark, you could clearly see his earnest eyes the same way he clearly saw your uncertainty, “Okay?”

With a nod, you unbuckled and exited the car the same time as Mat. He met you at the trunk of his car and immediately slipped his hand into yours as the two of you walked to his apartment. The sound of the key echoed through the silent hallway just as loud as the insecurities that swirled around your head. And just as quiet as the drive back from the arena, the two of you did your bedtime routine in silence.

Mat was done before you, and when you closed the bathroom door behind you, you expected him to be curled up under the duvet. But he was sat on the edge of the bed––in just his sweatpants––with his elbows resting on his knees, head buried in his hands.

Carefully, you walked over and sat next to him. And when you placed a comforting hand on his back, you felt him shakily suck in a deep breath.

Your shoulders fell as you recognized the uneasy breathing, his usual prelude to burying his emotions until they got the better of him.

You moved closer to him, your thigh pressing up against his, as you leaned your head on his shoulder. You continued to rub circles along his back and pressed a featherlight kiss to his shoulder, “It’s just one game.”

You heard him gulp as he nodded his head that was still buried into the palms of his hands.

It broke your heart to see him this way; hiding away from you because he was ashamed of his emotions. But you loved him. You loved every fiber of his being so much that it almost pained you.

“You have Wednesday night,” you whispered, and again, he nodded silently to himself, “You played amazing offense tonight.”

Mat breathed out the deep breath he held in, and you felt his muscles contract under the tips of your fingers. Unlike all of the times Mat nodded his head to agree with you, he shook his head no in his hands.

Your hand tailed from his back up to his shoulder that you squeezed in reassurance, “Mat––”

Again, he shook his head no. But instead of hiding away from you, he lifted his head, and his broken-downed face caused your heart to clench. His nostrils flared as his chest heaved in the slightest as he failed to even out his breathing, eyes bloodshot, and he gulped.

“I played like shit,” Mat ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “And don’t tell me I didn’t, because I heard the crowd yell at me.” His voice dropped down to a whisper, as he looked down at his hands, “You were there tonight…I wanted to play well.”

Your heart squeezed at his defeated tone of voice, and you had no doubt that the thoughts in his head were beating him down more than you could ever imagine.

You circled your arms around his waist and hugged him tight. Even with the shirt you were wearing, you could still feel the warmth radiating off his skin, “I know you’re an amazing hockey player,” you placed your head into the crook of his neck and Mat rested a hand on your thigh, “You’ve made it way further than anyone thought you guys would this season. And you’re not out yet,” you pressed a lingering kiss to the base of his neck.

Mat squeezed your thigh as he leaned his cheek on your head. From the far off undertone in his voice, you knew he was blankly staring at the wall, “I feel like I never play good enough whenever you watch.” Your body tensed up, “And it––I feel like such a loser.”

What were you supposed to say to him? How could you say that you agreed with him without totally hindering his already waning confidence? And it wasn’t like he was the one who played poorly whenever you watched…The Islanders, as a team, never played consistently when you watched.

You took in a deep breath of Mat, and he traced unrecognizable shapes on your leg, “Want to know what I think?”

His fingers on your thigh paused, almost like he debated with himself if he wanted to hear your thoughts. But when he breathed out a small, ‘always,’ and continued to trace patterns on your leg, you lifted your head to look up at him.

With his eyes trained down on your thigh, you removed one of your arms from around his waist and cupped his cheek. You felt his jaw tighten ever so slightly, and you had an inkling that he probably didn’t want to look at you in this moment, but you wanted him to know how sincere your words were.

“Mat…” you softly murmured his name as you turned his head to face you. And while his head moved, his eyes didn’t pick up. Your thumb traced along his jawline, his beard scratching against your hand as he closed his eyes; seeking liberation from his thoughts in your touch.

“I have seen you play great hockey,” his eyes glanced up at you for a moment, before he looked away. You let out a sigh, “You’re still leading the series––”

“But did you see how many turnovers I had––”

“––And while tonight’s game didn’t go as planned, you still have more chances to prove yourself,” you interrupted him so he couldn’t tear himself down more than he already had, “You continue to keep proving people wrong. You continue to impress people with your talent.” Again, he picked his eyes up to look at you, and this time, he kept your eye contact, “I’m always so in awe when I watch you play. You’re so happy on the ice, you love your team, and you always go into a game wanting to put your best effort forward.”

A faint smile made its way onto Mat’s face, which in turn, caused you to smile as well.

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore because I know you’re tired, and you lost a game––” his smile dropped, but you kept your hand firmly in place on his cheek so he couldn’t move away, “But, if my opinion means anything, I’m always proud of you when you play.”

Mat offered you a minuscule smile as he pressed the softest kiss to the inside of your hand, “Your opinion is the only one that matters to me.”

Your shoulders relaxed, and you tilted your head to gaze at him with a smile that shined bright with adoration,”So please know that I’m proud of you.”

Mat mirrored your love-sick smile and brought both of his arms around you in a strong hug. Always feeling the safest in his arms, you let out a sigh and squeezed him just as tight. Mat rocked you back and forth until his fingers sneaked under your shirt and tickled your sides. With a laugh, you flinched at the feeling, and Mat only held you tighter against him when you tried to escape his embrace.

And with Mat’s chest rumbling with laughter whenever you tried to pull away from him, the two of you fell back onto the mattress. Mat had stopped tickling you, but his hold on you hadn’t lightened up. You stayed on top of the covers with Mat for a few more minutes until he complained about being too cold and wanting to get under the sheets.

“How are you cold?” you scoffed as you slid under the covers. You pulled them up to your chest as you moved onto your side to face Mat, “You’re a literal furnace.”

Mat rolled his eyes at you and hooked an ankle around yours and tugged it towards him, silently telling you to move closer to him. You scooched over a few inches until the tips of your noses were nearly touching each other. He slung an arm around your waist, as his hand inched up your back, under your shirt.

“I bet this wasn’t the closeup you were expecting after the game,” Mat’s breath fanned your face, “Sorry.”

You rolled your eyes as you felt Mat’s fingers play with the elastic of your shorts, “That doesn’t matter,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I’m happy with this close up.”

Mat breathed out a laugh through his nose as the corners of his lips softly turned up in a small closed-lipped smile, “I love you.”

Every part of your body felt relaxed whenever those words passed through his lips. When you heard those words; no thought of yours felt trivial, no problem you experienced felt inconceivable, and you felt reassured that you put all of your trust in the right person.

Leaning forward just an inch, you softly touched your lips to Mat’s. Neither one of you initiated anything further, it was just the two of you enjoying being close to one another. When you pulled away, Mat readjusted himself on the bed so he was laying flat on his back. And he curled an arm around your shoulder as you stayed on your side, resting your head just below his collarbone, as one of your palms laid flat on his chest.

You pressed a gentle kiss to his chest, “I love you, too.”

Beneath you, you felt Mat let out a deep sigh of content. You imagined that he felt all of the same wave of emotions that went through your mind and body when you heard him say those words to you; Safety, acceptance, and an unconditional support system.

“Your arm will fall asleep if you keep it under me like this,” you whispered into his chest.

Mat hummed in acknowledgment, “It always does. But then you always move on your other side, and then I follow, and put my arm around you.”

And when he noticed minute details like that, you could hear that he loved you just as much as you loved him.

–––

+1

“I think I’m going to be sick,” you clutched Grace’s arm as the two of you walked into the concourse of the Coliseum.

It was reminiscent of the first Islanders game you attended with Grace. Fans were decked out in their best Islanders gear, the cheers and chants were louder than you had ever heard them, and the game hadn’t started yet. But this game had more on the line than the measly regular season game you first attended back in October.

Because it was now the month of June and it was game seven of the Stanley Cup final.

“Stop overreacting,” Grace glared at you as the two of you stood in line to get drinks before heading out your seats, “I swear Mat picks up on whatever nerves you feel.”

Your eyes widened, “You’ve seen my list––”

“And that’s why we’re only going to think positive thoughts,” Grace sternly said as she ordered two drinks; one for herself and one for you. When both drinks were poured, Graced handed over yours and you smiled, “Mat would never let you miss this game over a conspiracy theory you created for yourself.”

You sighed and fell into step alongside Grace as you made your way to your seats, “But did you see Tito last night?” Grace slowly nodded, “There were only a few people left after the team dinner. And when Mat mentioned I was coming, Tito’s mouth dropped, and Mat had to glare at him as if to keep him quiet!”

And just like how her cousin was last night, Grace remained silent.

Showing your tickets to the user, they directed both of you to your seats that weren’t too far behind the Islanders’ bench. And when the two of you were settled, and Grace sipped on her drink without taking a break to keep silent, you had your confirmation.

“See! His best friend even thinks I’m a bad luck charm,” you slumped down in the seat and pouted, “I’ll take a nap. That way I’ll be here, but I won’t watch the game so that way––”

“No,” Grace set down her plastic beer cup in the cup holder in front of her, “You’re watching the game.”

“But what if––”

Luckily, your drink was also placed in a cup holder when Grace slapped your wrist, “They’ve played well enough to make it this far, it’s like you have no faith in your boyfriend.”

You glared at her, “I do have faith in him,” you quickly picked back up your drink, seeing it as an item of safety because Grace wouldn’t dare cause a drink spillage on something she paid for. With a sigh, you took a sip of your drink and glanced up at her, “I’m so proud of him for making it this far, and all I want is to see him win. This game is a big deal to him.”

Grace offered you a closed-lipped sympathetic smile, “You being here is more than enough for him.”

“Grace, I’ve never seen him win a game,” you turned your head slightly to look at the players warming up on the ice.

Like the first game you attended with your best friend, you saw Mat and Tito rapidly passing the puck back and forth to each other, getting closer together with each second. But this time, you knew who he was. And even though he was still a distance away from you––and you couldn’t see him clearly under his helmet–– from the amount of time you spent learning to love him, you had every inch of his face memorized.

As you felt a soft smile slowly creep on your face, you felt an agonizing tug on your heartstrings, “I just want to see him happy.”

Grace placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed it in reassurance, “They’ve been playing well––Mat’s been playing well,” she said with a serious voice, “He’s on a goal scoring and assist streak.”

“I know,” your voice sounded as vacant as the thoughts in your head as you continued to concentrate your stare on Mat warming up.

“You know because I told you,” Grace snorted as she followed your eyesight to the ice, “And now you can know from seeing it yourself.”

Nervously, you took a prolonged sip of your drink and nodded your head.

As players skated back to their bench, and while you should’ve looked toward the flag as the National Anthem was sung, all you did was continue to stare at Mat. He stood in front of Tito, swaying back and forth as he rested an arm on top of his hockey stick. He shook his hair out a few times as he continued his unsanitary habit of biting his glove.

Enchanted by him, you jumped when Grace elbowed your side.

“The Anthem ended,” she smirked, “Everyone is sitting.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and tried to ease the embarrassment floating about in your stomach. While you probably looked foolish continuing to stand, there were other fans in the arena who were on their feet, ready for puck drop. But this was Grace; she knew why you were distracted and still standing.

Grace opened her mouth, but before she could make another remark at your expense, you glared at her, “Not a word.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything!”

“I know you––”

“––I wasn’t going to say anything about how that could be what’s waiting for you at his place when they win––”

“Grace.”

“Whatever happens, happens!” She held her hands up in defense with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. She then pulled down on your arm for you to sit in your seat, “Let’s watch some hockey.”

The Islanders played the first period well; they played aggressively, skated hard, and set up successful plays. The second period was fine, The Islanders scored two goals, with Mat receiving the sole assist on a goal made by Tito. But the third period…The third period was where the Islanders let their lead slip away. The game was tied up at two and Grace clutched your hand so tight you thought it would fall off.

She squeezed your hand out of nervousness, but she also saw through your lie when you tried to excuse yourself to the bathroom when there was thirteen minutes left in the third period.

“Don’t even think about it,” Grace sneered as she kept her eyes on the ice.

And while she gripped your arm, you anxiously bounced your leg. There were a few times the other team had come close to scoring a goal, but the puck had either bounced off the sidebar or Sorokin had caught it in his glove. But no amount of saves could ease your nerves. You would only know peace at the end of the game.

With two minutes left, and nearly everyone in the arena on their feet, you were still in your seat, not moving an inch. And when the puck was passed to Mat, he skated through two defenders, and it left him with just the goalie. The bile in your stomach churned as you felt the shouts in the arena vibrate through your body.

Grace’s hold on you dropped when she jumped up in her seat to get a better look at the action on the ice.

With your hand now free, and when you saw Mat wind his stick back for a shot, you buried your head in your sweaty hands, holding your breath.

There was a millisecond of silence where you didn’t know what happened. But when you felt the floor shake from people jumping around, screams so loud that they would break a decibel reader, and Grace pull you up by one of your hands into a bone crushing hug, you had a fairly good guess as to what happened.

Even though you were right next to Grace, you had to raise your voice to speak in her ear to make sure she heard you, “He scored?”

Grace pulled back from you, both hands gripping onto your shoulders as she nodded her head, “He scored!”

Her smile was wide, but you would bet all the money in the world that your smile was wider than hers. You broke her eye contact as you tipped your head back to look up at the arena’s screen that showed Mat’s goal on repeat. You saw the goal in slow motion, sped up, and in different angles… but nothing made you happier than seeing Mat jump up into Tito’s arms as the rest of the Islanders on the ice circled up for a hug.

As the entire arena still celebrated Mat’s tie-breaking goal, you stood still as you admired the pure glow of happiness radiating off him. As he high-fived the players on the bench, you saw him yell out a “Let’s go!”

The energy from the packed arena was contagious as the Islanders continued to fight hard for the remaining two minutes. They played smart, not drawing any penalties; played strategic, making sure they cleared the puck if it ever got too close to their net; and best of all, they played with smiles on their faces, savoring the last of their playing time on the ice before the end of their season.

And when the horn sounded, signaling the end of the last game of the Stanley Cup finals, gloves and helmets were thrown in the air as players excitedly skated over to Sorokin. You couldn’t hear them on the ice, but from the camera angle the screen was showing, you could tell they were shouting just as loud as the fans in the stands.

Everyone on the ice blended together, but you were still easily able to pick Mat out from the celebrations. The smile on his face and the gleam in his eyes was unparalleled to anything you had ever seen.

You leaned your head on Grace's shoulder as she wrapped an arm around you, “He’s so happy,” you mostly said to yourself, but Grace picked up on your words.

“Yeah, he’s happy now,” Grace let out a laugh, “but that smile is nothing compared to how he looks at you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to conceal your smile, but there was no use. And you stopped trying to hide your happiness when Mat was interviewed for his game winning goal and said, “I have a few people here that I love a lot, I'm just glad I can share this moment with them.”

As the Stanley Cup was brought out, and team pictures were taken, you and Grace stayed in the crowd to soak up all of the celebrations. But soon enough, with the crowd clearing out, and the islanders leaving the ice to no doubt continue their celebration in the locker room, you and Grace slowly walked up the steps and into the concourse.

Looking up from her phone with a smile on her face, Grace looped an arm around yours, “They’re all having fun in the locker room.”

You tipped your head back in laughter, “I can only imagine.”

“Tito texted me saying they’re going to a bar later to celebrate,” Grace smirked as she pulled you closer into her side, “The same one we went to after the first game you came to with me.”

A nostalgic smile easily made its way onto your face, “Lead the way.”

The car ride to the familiar place was full of laughter and singing along to the radio. The laughter and smiling continued as you walked into the bar. Grace saw her Aunt and Uncle sitting at a table with Mat’s family, so the two of you made your way over to them. Grace caught up with her family and you greeted Mat’s family with hugs. You sat in a free chair toward the back of the table, and so when the first of the Islanders started to trickle in, you had a clear vision of them.

Mat had texted you saying he was on his way with Tito, and you told him you were at a table in the back with his family and Tito’s parents. And only moments later, the bar erupted in boisterous cheers as Mat––the star player with the game winning goal––walked in with Tito. Mat thanked people who clapped his shoulder in congratulations, but when his eyes met yours, a small smile graced his lips as he moved through the crowd.

Mat’s dad was the first one to get up, bringing Mat into a tight hug before he even reached the table. Mat’s teary eyed mom was next to hug him, and his sister was all smiles as she poked fun at him for falling two times on the ice this game. Once you were sure Mat’s family was done congratulating their son, and they were sitting back down in their seats, you stepped around from the table to greet him.

Immediately, Mat’s arm curled around your waist as he brought you into the tightest hug. With your arms around his neck, you scratched his shoulder blades as he pressed a few kisses to the base of your neck. His beard tickled your skin, and while you preferred him with a clean shaven face, his beard was grown out in hopes of a Stanley Cup win… and you couldn’t be happier that the beard served its purpose.

With your arms still locked around his neck, you slightly pulled away, and offered him a blinding smile, “Congratulations.”

Mat chuckled as he dipped his head to give you a quick kiss, “I’m happy you were there.”

You nodded your head, and right as you opened your mouth to say something, Tito was quick to add his opinion, “The bad luck curse of you watching games is finally broken.”

You let out a loud laugh, hearing the humor behind his voice, but Mat whipped his head around to glare at his best friend, “You weren’t supposed to tell her that.”

“She already knew,” From the table, Grace shook her head with laughter, “You should ask to see her conspiracy chart.”

Mat scrunched his eyebrows together as he looked down at you. With a shrug of your shoulders, you playfully smiled at him, “You thought I was bad luck too?”

His eyes widened, “I uh––Well, not exactly––But there was this feeling––And you––”

You kissed his cheek as you took hold of his hand to lead him to the table. Mat pulled a chair up next to you and placed a hand on your thigh as he joined the conversation around the table. You sat next to him with a content smile, occasionally jumping in where appropriate, but you were just happy to be in his presence.

As the night went on, Mat slowly shifted in his chair to face you.

He slightly leaned forward and ran his finger along the 13 patch on your shoulder. He was silent as he traced his index finger over it a few times before looking up at you, “Glad you finally have an Islanders jersey for a game?”

And just like the first time you met at this bar nearly eight months ago, you felt your breath get caught in your throat as he trailed his knuckle down your arm. But unlike the first time, where he only grazed your arm before removing his touch from you, he let his knuckle trail all the way down your arm until he reached the tips of your fingers.

And unlike the first time you met him, instead of wishing he would touch you more, you flipped your hand over so your palm was facing up, and Mat slid his fingers between yours; holding tightly onto your hand.

“I look like a real fan now.”

Mat rolled his eyes as he let out a small laugh. He looked around the table, and when he saw his parents engrossed in a conversation with Tito’s parents, and Grace talking with his sister, Mat leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” Mat whispered as he gently pulled away from the kiss.

And with a smile that mirrored his, your tone of voice held just as much fascination behind it as Mat’s did when he told you those three special words, “I love you too.”

[sc0tters]

tysm for the crash course and 100% i agree with the idea of mat being fwb with gabe’s sister making everything complex 👀

also in love with gabe’s sister being a nicu nurse/working in a hospital to some degree bc maybe that’s why the fwb agreement was made—both their crazy schedules meant they didn’t want any commitment to anyone but just need to burn that energy with some GOOD sex

I’m glad that the crash course helped cause I forgot half of what we’ve done with them 😭 but you don’t know how happy I am to talk about these two!

They started their fwb agreement years ago! Mat was drowning in hockey with Tito having had been traded and she was in the midst of nursing school waiting for her assignment.

Mat loved the fact that she lived on the same street as he did because it meant he could shoot her a text and be there within ten minutes for the great sex that they had. Their schedules are SO rough on them both and getting that moment in bed where they think of nothing but themselves is like heaven “fuck baby just look at me.” Mat would hear plead as he was beneath her.

Having to listen to her male colleagues try to mansplain how to do her job all day meant that sometimes she was just craving a bit of power with Mat. And he wasn’t afraid to give it to her either.

[rosesvioletshardy]

overtime win celebrations - mat barzal

okay this is very unedited because i lowkey rushed it and i know it’s bad. also this is very bad smut because i haven’t written it in a while and i tried to read others and my old ones to get some inspiration and try to make it at least accurate in a way idk

also a very happy birthday mat today 

(isles win today or else i’ll fly to new york and 🔪) (jk ,,, unless)

this was requested by @gigissports​ who gave me the idea of this fic when i said i wanted to write a fic but didn’t know what to write about or who to write about so thank you to her and i hope you like it

(also idk what that title is it’s the first thing that came to my mind)

(ps y’all should also follow her as well she’s an amazing person)

masterlist

mat masterlist

warnings: mention of fights, SMUT (18+) (minors please don’t interact), fluff, little angst? (idk mat is a little upset so idk if that’d count as angst)

# of words: 1,941 (sorry it’s short i tried to make it somewhat longer but my brain decided to go into writer’s block so)

----

It was all going well, up until it wasn’t. You knew that playoff hockey got even more intense than the regular season and meant that more injuries were prone to happen. Mat told you the night the Islanders got clinched that he wouldn’t try to get into many fights anymore or get anymore penalty minutes seeing that he’s their star and that the top player shouldn’t have that many penalty minutes. He managed to not get into any fights or get any penalties the first 4 games. You would’ve gone to the game but you decided to stay at yours and Mat’s apartment to watch the game due to being busy earlier in the day and Mat was completely fine with however you wanted to watch the game. The only thing he did request before he left was that you wore one of his jerseys that he wasn’t going to be wearing for good luck. As soon as you came home from work it was the first thing you did and you sent a picture to him to show him. You knew he wouldn’t answer right away but you saw that he read it. 

The game was going smoothly up until the second period where the penguins were leading by 3. You knew that the team was frustrated by the way they looked as the camera panned over to the bench and that they were trying their hardest. Mat’s line was now playing and you felt as if they were going to score during that period. It wasn’t until moments after Anthony’s goal where a fight broke out and Mat got into the middle of it. You couldn’t tell what happened but you stood up on your feet and became really concerned. It wasn’t until you saw him walk towards the locker room with one of the medics before they showed the reply. The rest of the game you couldn’t focus on and only worried that something would happen even later into the game. Mat had said he was fine but you knew that he wasn’t from when they showed him. 

The only good thing to come out of the game was the double overtime win and you knew it was going to be a while before Mat got home. You hadn’t really had anything for dinner because of it and could only eat crackers because your mind was only worried for Mat and Mat only. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep seeing how late it was. Mat on the other hand was exhausted as well and it was just from playing almost 5 rounds of hockey. A sigh escaped his mouth when he reached the front door and took out his keys only to find you sleeping on the couch wearing his white jersey. He smiled at the site before dropping his bag and taking his shoes off before walking over to you and crouching down in front of you. Mat took a moment to analyze the details of your face before he started to caress your face and wake you up. Your eyes began to flutter open as you saw him crouched down to your height 

“Hey baby” he whispered as you sat up making room for him

“Hi maty, sorry you had to see me like this” you told as he sat down and pulled you into his chest

“It’s okay you deserve some rest.” he said trying to hide his eye

“Let me see, don’t hide it.”

“I didn’t want you to be mad”

“Why would I be mad?” you asked him confusion running across your face

“Because I promised to you that I wouldn't get into any fights or get any penalties during playoffs” he admitted

“I’m not mad, I was worried the entire time. It happens.” you affirmed him as you ran your fingers over the bruised eye lightly making sure that you didn’t hurt him. The two of you sat there in silence for a while taking in each other’s company before you both looked at each other and brought your lips together. You’ve been with Mat for over a year and a half and yet he still gave you butterflies every time you kissed. Straddling him, you continued to kiss as you ran your fingers through his hair.

Everything in that moment just felt perfect. Mat pulled away and stood up, picked you up and took you to yours and his room. After laying you down on the bed, he began to slowly push up his jersey while pressing small kisses along your jaw and down your neck, leaving marks, making you moan before pulling away to take the jersey off. His breath hitched when he saw the lingerie you had on underneath and smiled and you spoke up

“I was going to surprise you when you got home but i ended up falling asleep, so this isn’t exactly how I planned it” you told him sitting back up

“Well I’m still surprised don’t worry and you still look beautiful” he said before giving you another kiss and laying you back down after you took off his suit jacket, shirt and pants leaving him just in his underwear as you traced your fingers down his body

“I love you so much. Thank you for everything you do. From supporting me at home and away games to dealing with me and my antics” 

Mat unclipped you bra as he pressed light kisses over your collarbones as his hands roamed all over your body and stopping at your thighs, Pushing your legs apart, his fingers hooking onto your underwear before sliding them off and inserting two of them inside you. His eyes never left yours, curling his fingers more and while his thumb rubbed your clit, causing you to moan

“Maty, please” you let out

“In all time princess. It’s all about patience” he whispered in your ear before removing his fingers as soon as he felt you clenching. 

Removing his fingers, he brought them up to his mouth and sucked off your juices and sank down to his knees and kissed the soft skin of your thighs, feeling scruff from his playoff beard he was finally allowed to grow out. He wasted no time when it came to eating you out as he sucked back on your clit. One of his favorite sounds was hearing your moans and whimpers, as a smirk plastered onto his face, gripping your thighs tighter. You became more and more frustrated as you tugged on his hair wanting more. Pulling him closer onto you,  his hands grabbed your breasts making you gasp and moan his name more. He began to slowly lick your clit before starting to suck on it. You can feel him slowly pull away before going back and inserting his finger again

“Oh god. Oh fuck. Mat that feels so good. Please don’t stop”

“What do you need princess?”

“You. I need you.”  

“Fuck, maty i’m so close please” you told him as you could feel him humming against your clit, sending shivers down your spine. The familiar feeling began to coil in your stomach as you tugged on his hair harder and him licking you as his name left your lips, almost to the point where the neighbors would probably hear.

When he pulled away, he pressed a kiss against your lips, making you taste yourself. Mat leaned over to grab a condom from the nightstand next to the bed as you began to palm him through his boxers before pulling it down. You helped him roll the condom on him as he then lined himself in between you and grabbing your legs to hook against him

“You ready?” he asked looking into your eyes, making sure you’re still comfortable

“Yes” you told him as you curled your fingers at the bottom of his hair as he pressed his lips against yours while pushing himself inside you, groaning into his mouth.

His hips rolled with every thrust he gave, his lips leaving yours and pressing kisses along your jaw as he whispered in your ear as the occasional moan left his lips when you marked up his back or tugged his hair more. His hands gripped around your waist as he 

“I love you so much.”

“I love you so much too”

“Are you close?” he whispered pulling away from your neck “Mhm” you nodded as a whine left your left as he thrusted harder, 

“It’s okay, let go” he whispered in your ear as the both of you let go of your highs. Mat came out of you and fell on the bed next to you. The two of you stayed quiet as you both breathed heavily trying to catch your breaths.

“Well that was-”

“Yeah” he finished as he took the condom off and threw it in the trashcan when got up and went to the bathroom

When Mat came back, he started to clean you up with the damp towel, making sure that you were alright and that he didn’t hurt you. He took his time making sure to stop as soon as you started to feel uncomfortable or started to wince. You kept trying to fight off the sleepiness that was taking over so you had a chance to talk to Mat about everything he wanted just so he can get his mind over it. Your eyes were starting to slowly close once again until you felt the bed dip and Mat’s arm pull you so your head was on his chest

“What’s going on through that mind of yours?” you asked him knowing that he was thinking about the game again

“Just the game, the fight, how much my eye hurts” he laughs off but you can tell he’s still somewhat upset causing you to get up and face him

“Mathew, you did your best, and you’ll keep doing your best. I know you know this but you go close to a goal each period and in overtime. Yes, it’s not going well, but you need to have some faith in you. There’s still some positives that happened, you assisted a couple of goals from Tito and Scott, plus the game winning goal. Those are still something-” you told him before he cut you off

“Yeah but they’re not a goal you know? Everyone, from commentators to interviewers have been on my ass about not scoring and it’s frustrating to listen to and when it happens it gets blocked” mat exclaimed, as he ran his hand through is hair trying not to show his frustration

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but that will happen and things will get better. Remember you were struggling towards the end of the regular season and then you got a goal straight out of the penalty box?”

“Yes but-”

“But nothing. You still have game 6 and I know that you guys will advance to the next round and you will get that goal that you want.” you finished as you now sit on his lap staring into his eyes and grabbing his hands

“Okay, mainly because I trust you and I love you.” he said as he gave you a small peck on the lips

“I love you”

“Now, do you still have enough energy for another round or are you tired?”

“I don’t know, I’m not the one who played 5 periods of hockey and got into a fight” you smirked as he flipped you onto your back

“Well then, you shouldn’t have said that missy” he whispered to you smirking as he went back down on you

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Road Trip | Isles Drabble

“Who decided this was a good idea again?”

Casey and Matty wear the same concerned faces, unsure about the road trip ahead.

“Relax Zeeker it’ll be fine,” you promise throwing a bag into the back of the car in which both boys roll their eyes at you.

“Boys! Let’s go!” you yell out to the remaining few isles stars who are taking forever.

Barzy, Tito, Oliver, Noah, and Anders bound out of your house, bags in hand and ready to head out.

Casey and Matty make sure everything is set and the eight of you climb into the rented SUV. You and Casey up front, Anders and Matty behind you, Barzy and Tito behind them, and Noah and Oliver all the way in the back.

“Why are we all the way back here?” Noah shouts.

“Because our princess has to sit up front,” Mat jokes and you whip around with a mischievous smile.

“You’re damn right,” you respond and the boys laugh.

“Also, seniority,” Anders chimes in and the rest of the boys roll their eyes.

“Everybody set?” Casey asks looking in the back through the rear view mirror.

The boys all respond in affirmatives and Casey sets off. The eight of you had planned this road trip for after the off season and as the isles schedule wound down, you became more and more excited.

You decided on Myrtle Beach, somewhere you had been plenty of times but the boys had never really been. It was a solid 12 hour drive but between the eight of you, it would hopefully be a breeze.

You grab the charger in the car, your phone somehow already dying in the 20 minutes you’ve been driving and it effectively steals aux. You scroll through your music, the boys not being totally checked out yet so you knew you could mess with them.

You scroll through your music, instantly clicking on Auston Matthews by Svdvm. The boys groan in unison and you can’t help but cackle loudly.

“Casey!! Why did you let her have aux?” Noah yells from the back.

“Suck my dick Noah, it’s a good song!” you yell back.

“Hush children!” Anders yells and you and Noah laugh ridiculously loud.

You continue through a rotation of songs that annoy each boy individually. By the time you’re finished, Zeeker pulls over and switches with Marty. You hop into one of the back seats, popping on a pair of beats and diving into one of the many books you brought with you.

You’re three quarters of the way done when someone taps your head and you look to see Anders staring at you.

“How did you do that?” he asks in awe.

“What?”

“You read that entire book in an hour.”

“It’s been that long already?” you ask, grabbing your phone to check the time.

Anders continues to stare like you’re an anomaly he’s never seen before just as Marty pulls over to get gas. You all get out, running to the bathroom, stretching, grabbing snacks, and switching seats.

You hop into the driver seat, deciding to focus on the road for a bit and tune out by yourself. When the boys come back out to see you, they stare.

“And what if I don’t want to see (y/n) drive? Is this where I catch a flight?” Oliver asks and you lean out the window to flip him off.

“Alright dorks,” Casey says, shoving Oliver into the car.

“(y/n), please go the speed limit,” Barzy asks and you gape at him.

“I’m the best driver out of all of y’all.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

You end up driving for a good 2 hours and only stop when Noah offers to drive. You two switch off and somehow you end up in the far back with Beau sitting next to you.

“You okay bubs?” he asks and you realize your eyes had slowly been fluttering shut.

“Just tired,” you wave it off.

Beau frowns, leaning over to unbuckle your seatbelt and pull you in. Your head lands on his lap and the comfort is so strong you’re asleep in seconds.

“Should we wake her?”

“Nah just let her sleep.”

Your eyes fight to open but ultimately stay closed, the boys' voices floating around you. You feel hands around you and suddenly you’re lifted into the air.

You assume you’ve finally made it to your happy place, excited to start vacation with your best friends in the world.

“She really suggested a road trip just to fall asleep in the end?” Mat asks extremely close, no doubt being the one holding you.

“Yeah,” Marty says. “But she is kind of adorable.”