Work Text:
Garrett POV
I’m finishing up practice and getting dressed after my shower when my phone buzzes. I pull it out and immediately frown.
Allie.
That’s weird. Allie almost never texts me. A shot of panic immediately goes through me. Something happened to Hannah. Did she get hurt? Is she sick?
I unlock my phone so fast I almost drop it.
Allie: What’s the plan for Friday?
I stare at the text.
What?
I read it again. Still confused. What the hell is Friday?
I open my calendar. Nothing. No game. No practice. No exam. No anniversary. No clue.
I look over at Dean.
“What’s Friday?”
Dean looks up from tying his shoes.
“Uh… the day after Thursday?”
I throw a sock at him.
“Helpful.”
“What do you mean what’s Friday?”
“I got a weird text.”
Dean shrugs.
“Maybe somebody’s throwing a party.”
I look back down at my phone.
Garrett: What’s so special about Friday?
Three dots immediately appear.
Then:
Allie: Umm…
Allie: Hannah’s birthday?
I freeze. My stomach drops.
Oh my God. Oh my God. It’s Hannah’s birthday.
How did I not know it was Hannah’s birthday?
I stare at the message in complete horror. I don’t know whether to laugh or throw myself off a bridge.
Dean notices my face.
“What?”
I slowly lower my phone.
“I didn’t know it was Hannah’s birthday.”
Dean blinks. Then starts laughing. Actually laughing.
“You are such an idiot.”
“Shut up.”
“You didn’t know your girlfriend’s birthday?”
“Shut up, Dean.”
He laughs harder.
I text Allie back.
Garrett: Shit.
Garrett: I had no idea.
Allie: Clearly.
Garrett: Am I the worst boyfriend alive?
Allie: Top five.
Garrett: Awesome.
Allie: Relax. Hannah doesn’t even remember her own birthday half the time.
That actually sounds like Hannah.
Garrett: Any ideas?
Allie: I was thinking a bonfire with everyone.
I immediately smile. Hannah would love that. No giant party. No hundred people. Just her favorite people.
Garrett: That’s perfect.
Allie: Great.
Allie: I’ll tell everyone.
I stare down at my phone for another second.
Hannah’s birthday. I really had no idea.
Jesus. I need to step my game up.
***
A few days later it’s Thursday and Hannah still hasn’t mentioned her birthday once. Not once.
I decided pretty early on that pretending I don’t know is probably my best option. If Hannah figures out something is up, she’ll start asking questions and I’m a terrible liar.
Allie has Friday morning covered. Apparently they’re getting their nails done, shopping, getting lunch, and doing whatever girls do when they spend an entire day together. Honestly, I don’t want to know.
Allie also packed an overnight bag for Hannah without her knowing. Which is slightly terrifying. I don’t know how she managed it. I don’t want to know how she managed it.
I’m taking Hannah to a cabin a few hours away after the bonfire Friday night. Just a quiet weekend for the two of us. No hockey. No school. No practices. No studying. Just us.
She’s been buried in school and music lately and I’ve been buried in hockey. We haven’t had a lot of time to just breathe together. And honestly, I miss that.
“What are you doing this weekend?”
I glance over from where I’m stretched out on her bed. Hannah is sitting cross-legged near the foot of the mattress with her guitar in her lap.
God, she’s beautiful. Her hair is a mess. She’s wearing one of my hoodies. And she’s completely focused on adjusting one of the strings.
“Not sure.”
I shrug casually.
“Maybe Malone’s.”
She smiles. And there goes my heart. Every damn time.
“Sounds fun.”
Tomorrow is your birthday. Tomorrow. And you’re suggesting Malone’s. Unbelievable.
“Any big plans?” I ask.
Her eyes narrow immediately.
“Why?”
Shit.
“Just asking.”
She continues looking at me suspiciously. Then shrugs.
“Nope.”
That’s it. Nope. Nothing.
I have never met anyone less interested in their own birthday.
“How’s music theory going?”
A dramatic groan leaves her.
“There she is.”
She immediately throws a pillow at me. I catch it before it hits my face.
“Bully.”
“You’re the one bullying me.”
“I’m asking a question.”
“You’re attacking me.”
I laugh.
“That’s dramatic.”
She points at me.
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand you’re spending six hours a day crying over a music theory textbook.”
She gasps.
“I do not cry.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Hannah.”
“Okay. Once.”
“Twice.”
“Maybe.”
I grin. She rolls her eyes.
“But it’s getting better.”
Immediately my chest swells with pride. I don’t think Hannah realizes how impressive she is. When she’s struggling at something she doesn’t quit. She works. And works. And works until she figures it out. It’s one of my favorite things about her.
“I think I’m finally getting it.”
I reach over and rub my hand along her thigh.
“I knew you would.”
Her expression softens.
“You have way more faith in me than I have in me.”
“Someone has to.”
She smiles again. And suddenly I’m even more excited for tomorrow.
Because she has absolutely no idea what’s coming.
***
It’s Hannah’s birthday and Allie has Hannah right now, pampering her. Meanwhile, I’ve somehow become responsible for making sure the hockey house doesn’t look like a landfill. Which is apparently impossible.
“Tucker, pick that up.”
“I’m literally holding it.”
“Then why is it still on the ground?”
“Because I haven’t picked it up yet.”
I stare at him. Tucker stares back. Dean snorts from across the backyard.
“You’re becoming Coach.”
“Shut up.”
The backyard had empty cans everywhere this morning, but after several hours of forced labor, it’s actually looking pretty good. String lights are hung. The firepit is ready. Food is on the way. Allie had Dean pick up cupcakes and dinner. Everything is set.
The plan is simple. Allie brings Hannah over after their day together. Everyone surprises her. We spend the night hanging out around the bonfire. Easy. Perfect.
At least it was supposed to be.
My phone buzzes. I immediately grab it.
Allie: We have an issue.
My stomach drops.
Garrett: What happened?
Allie: Hannah won’t come back out.
Allie: She says she just wants to stay in tonight.
Allie: She’s wallowing.
I frown.
Wallowing?
Garrett: I’m on my way.
Before Allie can even respond, I’m already grabbing my keys. The entire drive to Hannah’s dorm I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong. Maybe I should’ve mentioned her birthday. Maybe she’s overwhelmed. Maybe she’s just tired. I don’t know.
But I do know one thing.
If Hannah’s upset, I want to be there.
I pull into the dorm parking lot and practically jog inside. By the time I reach their room, Allie is already waiting. She opens the door immediately.
“Thank God.”
“That bad?”
She winces.
“Not really.”
That doesn’t make me feel better.
“Then what’s wrong?”
Allie sighs.
“I think she’s just in her feelings.”
That is the most Hannah answer ever.
Allie nods toward Hannah’s room. The door is cracked open slightly. I walk over and knock softly.
“Wellsey?”
I slowly push the door open. Hannah is sitting on her bed scrolling through her phone. The second she sees me her face changes. First surprise. Then happiness. Then guilt. Definitely guilt.
“Hi baby.”
I walk over and lean down to kiss her. She immediately smiles.
God. There’s my girl.
I sit beside her and she immediately looks back down at her lap. Something is definitely bothering her. I gently brush my thumb across her cheek.
“Happy birthday, Wellsey.”
Her head immediately snaps up.
“You… you know?”
I laugh.
“Of course I know.”
She narrows her eyes.
“You did not.”
“Okay.”
I grin.
“Allie knew.”
A voice immediately shouts from the living room.
“Rude.”
I laugh. Hannah does too.
Good. That’s progress.
“She told me a week ago.”
Hannah’s eyes widen.
“A week ago?”
“Yep.”
She stares at me. Then her expression softens.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I was trying to surprise you.”
Her smile grows. Then it slowly fades.
There it is again. That guilty look.
I gently brush my thumb across her cheek.
“Okay.”
She immediately groans.
“What?”
“What are you feeling?”
“Nothing.”
“Hannah.”
She rolls her eyes. I wait. Eventually she sighs.
“I just feel bad.”
“For what?”
She gestures vaguely around the room.
“All of this.”
I blink.
“All of what?”
“Allie spent her whole day with me.”
She starts counting on her fingers.
“We got coffee.”
“One.”
“We got our nails done.”
“Two.”
“We went shopping.”
“Three.”
She points at me.
“And now apparently you’ve been planning things.”
I shrug.
“Okay?”
She groans again.
“See, that’s exactly what I mean.”
I can’t help but smile.
“You’re upset because people care about you?”
“Yes.”
I stare at her. She stares back.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I know.”
“It’s actually one of the dumbest things you’ve ever said.”
“I know.”
I laugh.
She doesn’t. Which means she’s serious.
I take her hand.
“Baby.”
She looks down.
“I just feel guilty.”
My chest softens immediately.
“There it is.”
She shrugs.
“You guys have your own lives.”
“Hannah.”
“You have hockey.”
“Hannah.”
“Allie has school and work and—”
“Hannah.”
She finally looks at me. I gently squeeze her hand.
“Do you know why Allie spent the day with you?”
She blinks.
“Because she’s my friend?”
“Exactly.”
She opens her mouth. I cut her off.
“And do you know why I planned something?”
Her cheeks immediately turn pink.
“Garrett.”
“Answer the question.”
She tries not to smile.
“Because you’re my boyfriend?”
“Correct.”
I nod.
“See? You’re getting it.”
A laugh escapes her.
Good.
I scoot closer.
“Nobody is here because they have to be.”
She looks down at our hands.
“They’re here because they want to be.”
Her expression softens.
“Especially me.”
That finally gets a real smile out of her.
There she is.
I brush a strand of hair behind her ear.
“So let people celebrate you for once.”
“Garrett.”
“No.”
I point at her.
“Your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
“To be loved on.”
She immediately groans.
“That is such a horrible phrase.”
“Too bad.”
I stand up and hold out my hand.
“Come on.”
She eyes me suspiciously.
“Why?”
“Because your friends are waiting.”
Her eyebrows furrow.
“What friends?”
Shit.
I grin.
She points at me.
“You’re hiding something.”
“Maybe.”
“Garrett Graham.”
I grab her hand and pull her to her feet.
“Trust me?”
She doesn’t hesitate. Not even for a second.
“Always.”
Jesus. That gets me every damn time.
Behind me I hear Allie sniff dramatically from the doorway.
“Oh my God, that’s disgusting.”
“Shut up, Allie.”
“No. You two are nauseating.”
For the first time all afternoon, Hannah laughs. A real laugh. And I know we’re back on track.
Twenty minutes later, all three of us pull up to the hockey house. I can barely contain my grin. Hannah immediately notices.
“You are being weird.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
Before I can answer, we walk through the front door.
“SURPRISE!”
Hannah jumps. Actually jumps. Then immediately starts laughing.
The entire team. Their girlfriends. Friends from campus. Everyone. They’re all here. Just for her.
I watch her face as she takes it all in. The smile that spreads across her face is worth every second of planning. Every single one.
The rest of the night is perfect. We eat too much food. Dean starts three separate arguments. Tucker wins every game somehow. Logan cheats. Allie gets emotional. The cupcakes are terrible. Everybody gets a little drunk.
Including Hannah.
Which is probably my favorite part.
Because drunk Hannah thinks everything is hilarious.
Hours later the fire dies down. People slowly start leaving. The house grows quieter. I find Hannah curled against my side on the couch. Sleepy. Happy. Perfect.
“Ready for bed?”
She nods.
I take her upstairs. I toss her one of my shirts. She disappears into the bathroom. When she comes back out, she’s swimming in it. My heart does that stupid thing it always does around her.
We crawl into bed together. Immediately she curls against my chest.
“Did you have a good birthday?” I ask quietly.
She tilts her head back. The smile she gives me could probably power a small city.
“The best.”
I kiss her forehead.
Mission accomplished.
Little does she know the cabin surprise starts tomorrow. But that’s a problem for future Garrett.
Right now?
I just hold my birthday girl a little tighter as she falls asleep in my arms.
Hannah’s POV
Allie and I have a great day. She drags me all over campus and town getting our nails done, shopping, grabbing lunch, and honestly just spending time together. I had a lot of fun and it was a really great way to spend my birthday.
But when we get back to my dorm, I start feeling guilty.
I never told Garrett it was my birthday.
I don’t really celebrate my birthday. I never have. It just never felt like that big of a deal to me. But I know Garrett. Birthdays would absolutely be a big deal to him.
Now I just feel kind of crappy.
I wish I had told him.
Allie keeps trying to convince me to go back out, but the last thing I want to do is be social. I just want to lie in bed and scroll through Instagram and TikTok and wallow in my own self-pity.
While I’m doing exactly that, I hear a light knock on my door.
“Wellsy?”
My head snaps up.
Garrett?
Garrett’s here?
Relief immediately floods through me. Followed almost instantly by guilt.
He still doesn’t know. I still haven’t told him.
The door opens and Garrett steps inside. The second I see him, I feel better.
He walks over to my bed and sits beside me.
“Hi, baby.”
He leans down and kisses me softly.
“Hi.”
His hand comes up and brushes my cheek.
“Happy birthday, Wellsy.”
My eyes widen.
He knows.
Of course he knows. He knows everything.
God, I love him.
“You… you know?”
A grin tugs at his lips.
“Of course I know.”
I groan.
“Allie?”
“Allie.”
I shake my head.
“Traitor.”
“She’s actually the reason I know.”
I laugh despite myself. Then the guilt comes rushing back.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
His expression softens immediately.
“Hannah.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t.”
I look down at my hands.
“I just don’t really like making a big deal out of my birthday.”
“Okay.”
“And then it got weird because I hadn’t told you and then I felt bad for not telling you.”
“Okay.”
“And then I felt worse because I felt bad.”
He laughs.
“Okay.”
I finally look up at him.
“Stop saying okay.”
“No.”
That earns a small smile. Good.
He gently squeezes my knee.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“I know.”
“But I still feel bad.”
He studies me for a second.
Then:
“Well, that’s unfortunate.”
I narrow my eyes.
“Why?”
“Because I have plans.”
My stomach drops.
“Plans?”
“A few.”
“Garrett.”
He grins.
“Come on.”
“Garrett.”
“Trust me?”
I stare at him for a second. Then sigh.
“Unfortunately.”
His smile widens.
“Perfect.”
***
Twenty minutes later we’re pulling up to the hockey house. The second Garrett opens the front door I hear:
“SURPRISE!”
I nearly jump out of my skin.
Everyone is there. Everyone. Allie. Dean. Logan. Tucker. The team. Friends from school. People I didn’t even realize Garrett knew.
My hand immediately flies to my chest.
“Oh my God.”
Everyone starts laughing. Garrett wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“You okay?”
I look around the room. The decorations. The food. The cupcakes. Everyone smiling at me.
Nobody has ever done something like this for me before.
Ever.
I look up at Garrett.
“You did all this?”
His ears immediately turn red.
“Well…”
“Garrett.”
“Okay, Allie did a lot of it.”
Allie points at herself proudly.
“I did.”
I laugh. Then before I can stop myself I throw my arms around both of them.
They’re my favorite people.
The rest of the night is perfect. We eat. We laugh. We drink. We dance. At some point Dean and Allie end up dancing on a table. At another point Tucker somehow loses a shoe. Logan spends thirty minutes trying to explain something and nobody listens.
It’s chaos. Perfect chaos.
By the time the party finally starts winding down, I’m exhausted. The good kind of exhausted.
Garrett notices immediately.
Of course he does. He always does.
“You ready, birthday girl?”
I nod.
“So ready.”
He smiles. Then leads me upstairs.
***
I wake up to someone kissing my face.
“No.”
Another kiss.
“Absolutely not.”
Another kiss.
“Garrett.”
I crack one eye open. The sun is way too bright. The room is spinning just enough to remind me I definitely had too much to drink last night.
“Do you know what time it is?”
“Yep.”
His voice sounds entirely too cheerful.
“It’s time to get up.”
I groan and bury my face deeper into the pillow.
“You’re evil.”
“Nope.”
I crack my eye open again. He’s holding a coffee. And wearing a very suspicious smile.
That’s when I notice the duffle bag.
I sit up. Immediately regretting it.
“Why do you have a duffle bag?”
He hands me the coffee.
“Drink.”
I take the coffee. Immediately feeling better. Then I point at the bag.
“Explain.”
“We’re going somewhere.”
I blink.
“What?”
“It’s a surprise.”
I narrow my eyes.
“Garrett.”
He smiles. That stupid smile. The one that means he isn’t telling me anything.
I groan.
Twenty minutes later I’m in his Jeep. My own overnight bag already sitting in the back seat.
“When did you pack me a bag?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
“Allie.”
I immediately laugh.
“That little sneak.”
“Yep.”
The drive is beautiful. After almost two hours the city disappears completely. Trees line both sides of the road. A river runs beside us. The farther we drive, the more relaxed I feel.
Eventually Garrett glances over.
“We’re almost there.”
I smile.
Honestly, I don’t even care where we’re going anymore. As long as I’m with him.
We turn onto a long winding driveway and pull up to a little cabin sitting beside the river. The trees surround it on all sides. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Beautiful.
Garrett puts the Jeep in park. Neither of us move.
I look out at the river. Then at the cabin. Then at Garrett.
He’s staring straight ahead gripping the steering wheel.
Wait.
Is he nervous?
I turn toward him. He finally looks over.
“So…”
Oh my God. He is nervous.
I bite back a smile.
“So?” I repeat.
He rubs the back of his neck.
“I know you’ve been really busy lately.”
My heart immediately softens.
“Garrett—”
“No, let me finish.”
I close my mouth.
He takes a breath.
“You’ve had school and music and everything else.”
He shrugs.
“And I’ve had hockey.”
Another shrug.
“And it feels like every time we see each other lately one of us has somewhere else to be.”
I stare at him. Because he’s right. He’s completely right.
“So…”
His voice gets quieter.
“I thought maybe it’d be nice if we had a couple days where nobody needed anything from us.”
My chest aches. The good kind. The kind that only Garrett seems capable of causing.
He gestures toward the cabin.
“Just us.”
God. I love him. I love him so much.
“And if you hate it that’s okay.”
I immediately laugh.
His eyebrows furrow.
“What?”
“Garrett.”
“What?”
“You rented a cabin on a river.”
He shrugs. Nervously.
“You could still hate it.”
I reach over and grab his hand.
“You’re ridiculous.”
That earns me a small smile.
I squeeze his hand.
“This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
His smile grows. Just a little. But enough. I can practically see the relief leaving his body.
“Really?”
“Really.”
I lean over and kiss him. Slowly.
When I pull back his forehead rests against mine.
“I can’t wait to spend the weekend with you.”
His hand settles on my thigh.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I smile.
“No school.”
A kiss.
“No hockey.”
Another kiss.
“No roommates.”
His grin immediately widens.
“There it is.”
I laugh.
“What?”
“I was wondering how long it’d take.”
My cheeks warm.
“Shut up.”
He leans over and kisses me again.
“I missed you too, Wellsey.”
And somehow that makes me fall in love with him all over again. Again.
The cabin is gorgeous. It has floor-to-ceiling windows facing the river and trees. It’s small, but perfect. One bedroom. One king-sized bed that I’m sure we’ll be doing a lot more than sleeping in.
I’m standing in the kitchen taking it all in when I realize Garrett disappeared. I step outside to help him and find him unloading the Jeep.
“Need help?”
“Nope.”
“Garrett.”
“Nope.”
He grabs both duffle bags before I can even reach for one.
I cross my arms.
“You know I am capable of carrying things.”
He grins.
“I know.”
“Then why won’t you let me help?”
“Because it’s your birthday weekend.”
I roll my eyes.
“That’s not how birthdays work.”
“It is now.”
Before I can argue, he disappears back to the Jeep.
A few minutes later he comes back carrying groceries. Then another trip. Then another.
This time he’s carrying a suspicious-looking bag.
I immediately narrow my eyes.
“What’s in that bag?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s definitely something.”
“Nope.”
He quickly disappears into the bedroom.
My suspicion grows.
“Garrett Graham.”
“No snooping.”
“Now I want to snoop.”
“Exactly why you’re not allowed.”
The day is perfect. We swim in the river. Splash each other. Lay in the sun. Talk. Laugh. Steal kisses whenever we’re close enough.
At some point we both abandon our phones inside the cabin. Neither of us wants interruptions. For once, nobody needs anything from us.
It’s just Garrett and me. And honestly? It’s perfect.
Now we’re stretched out together on an outdoor daybed overlooking the river. I’m half on top of him, my head resting on his chest.
“How do burgers sound for dinner?”
I brush my nose against his.
“Perfect.”
He kisses me. Then kisses me again. Then one more time.
“For good measure.”
I laugh.
“Go make dinner.”
He groans dramatically.
“Fine.”
I start to get up with him. Immediately he points at me.
“No.”
“What?”
“You stay right there.”
“Garrett.”
“I mean it.”
He points back to the daybed.
“I want you relaxing.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“And what exactly are you going to do?”
“Make dinner.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes.”
I stare at him. Suspiciously.
He grins.
“Such a good listener, Wellsey.”
“Shut up.”
“Never.”
I throw a pillow at him. He catches it and heads inside laughing.
I settle back onto the daybed. The river quietly rushes by. Birds chirp somewhere in the trees. The sun warms my skin. And before I even realize it, I drift off.
“Wellsey.”
I hear my name somewhere far away.
“Baby.”
The sound of fingers running through my hair wakes me up.
I smile before I even open my eyes.
Garrett.
I slowly blink awake. He’s sitting beside me smiling down at me.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Dinner’s ready.”
I stretch and immediately nuzzle into his lap.
He laughs.
“Come on.”
“I live here now.”
“No you don’t.”
“Please tell the river that.”
He helps me sit up and leads me inside.
The second I step through the door I freeze. The lights are off. Fairy lights glow throughout the room. The couch is covered in blankets and pillows. There’s popcorn. Candy. Burgers. Fries. And Dirty Dancing paused on the television.
I just stare.
Garrett steps up behind me. His arms wrapping around my waist.
I turn around slowly. My eyes immediately fill with tears.
“Wellsey.”
His voice softens.
“Why are you crying?”
The asshole knows exactly why.
I laugh through the tears.
“Because I love you so much.”
His entire face softens. Then he kisses me. Slow and sweet.
“Good.”
I laugh.
“Good?”
His grin grows.
“Yeah.”
He kisses me again.
“Because I’m kind of obsessed with you.”
My heart melts.
“You are such a sap.”
“Only for you.”
I laugh again and wipe at my eyes.
God. Nobody has ever loved me like this. Nobody has ever made me feel this special. This safe. This cared for.
Garrett guides me over to the couch. I end up practically glued to his side.
The movie starts. At some point I end up stealing half of his fries. Then half of his popcorn. Then some of his candy. He complains about it the entire time while continuing to hand me food.
By the halfway point I’m pretty sure he’s watched me more than the movie. Not that I’m complaining.
Halfway through the movie I glance up at him.
“Do you think you could do that?”
“What?”
I point at Patrick Swayze.
“Dance like that.”
Garrett snorts.
“You give me way too much credit.”
I laugh.
“Probably.”
The movie continues. The fairy lights glow softly around us. The river outside reflects the last bit of daylight. And somehow I fall even more in love with the man sitting beside me.
When the final scene starts and The Time of My Life begins playing, Garrett suddenly stands. I look up at him. Confused. Then he holds out his hand.
My smile grows instantly.
“Come on.”
“No.”
“Come on.”
I laugh.
“Garrett.”
He wiggles his fingers.
“Trust me.”
I shake my head.
“Always.”
Then I take his hand.
He pulls me to my feet. We sway together in the middle of the cabin. Neither of us attempting any fancy dance moves. Thank God. Because Garrett would absolutely drop me.
“I would not.”
I stare at him.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yep.”
I laugh and bury my face in his chest.
“You’re not even attempting the lift.”
He laughs.
“Wellsey, I value your life.”
I laugh harder.
The song ends. The credits roll. But neither of us stop dancing.
We just keep swaying slowly together.
The river outside. The fairy lights glowing around us. His arms around my waist. My head against his chest.
I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.
Garrett tilts my chin up. His eyes meet mine. Then he kisses me. Soft. Slow. Like he has all the time in the world.
I melt into him immediately. The kiss deepens. My hands slide up into his curls. His arms tighten around my waist. And suddenly the rest of the world disappears.
It’s just him. Just us. Exactly how I want it.
When we finally pull apart, I rest my forehead against his.
Smiling. Happy. Loved.
For the first time in a long time, it feels like we have all the time in the world.
Garrett’s POV
The day has been perfect since we got to the cabin. We’ve spent the entire day swimming in the river, laying out in the sun, laughing, talking, and doing a lot more than just talking.
Honestly, I don’t think I’ve looked at my phone once. And neither has Hannah.
For the first time in forever, nobody needs anything from us. No hockey. No school. No roommates. No obligations.
Just us.
Right now we’re stretched out together on an outdoor daybed overlooking the river. Hannah is curled into my side, drawing lazy circles on my chest while I run my fingers through her hair.
This is my favorite version of us. Quiet. Comfortable. Happy.
“How do burgers sound for dinner?”
She brushes her nose against mine.
“Perfect.”
I kiss her. Then kiss her again. Then one more time.
“For good measure.”
She laughs.
“Go make dinner.”
I groan dramatically.
“Fine.”
The second I sit up, she starts to get up too. Immediately I point at her.
“No.”
“What?”
“You stay right there.”
“Garrett.”
“I mean it.”
I point back to the daybed.
“I want you relaxing.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“And what exactly are you going to do?”
“Make dinner.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes.”
She stares at me. Suspiciously.
I grin.
“Such a good listener, Wellsey.”
“Shut up.”
“Never.”
She throws a pillow at me. I catch it easily. Then head inside laughing.
The second the door closes behind me, I get to work. I grab the supplies I’d hidden in the bedroom earlier. Candy. Popcorn. Blankets. Pillows. Everything I need for the perfect movie night.
I set everything up in the living room before firing up the grill and making dinner.
Once the burgers are done, I do a final inspection.
Fairy lights. Check.
Food. Check.
Dirty Dancing. Definitely check.
Perfect.
I head back outside to get Hannah. The second I step onto the deck, I stop.
She’s asleep. Curled up on the daybed. One arm tucked beneath her cheek. The late afternoon sun making her hair glow.
God. She’s beautiful.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how beautiful she is.
For a second I consider letting her sleep. I could honestly sit here and watch her for an hour. But the burgers are getting cold.
Reluctantly, I sit beside her and run my fingers through her hair. It’s ridiculously soft. I don’t know what shampoo she uses but I’m never letting her change it.
“Wellsey.”
She doesn’t move.
I smile.
“Baby.”
This time her eyes flutter open. The second they find mine, she smiles.
And Jesus Christ. That smile. That smile is going to kill me one day.
“Hi.”
Her voice is sleepy.
“Hi.”
“Dinner’s ready.”
She stretches and immediately nuzzles into my lap.
I laugh.
“Come on.”
“I live here now.”
“No you don’t.”
“Please tell the river that.”
I help her sit up and lead her inside.
The second she steps through the door she freezes. I almost laugh. Because I know exactly what she’s looking at. The fairy lights. The blankets. The food. The movie. Everything.
She just stands there staring.
I set her sweater down on a nearby chair.
Then walk up behind her. Wrapping my arms around her waist.
I bury my face in her hair and kiss her temple.
She turns around slowly. And immediately I see tears in her eyes. My chest squeezes.
I know they’re happy tears. I know that. I still hate seeing her cry.
“Wellsey.”
I brush my thumb across her cheek.
“Why are you crying?”
She laughs softly. Then shakes her head.
“Because I love you so much.”
And just like that, my heart completely melts. Every single time.
I lean down and kiss her. Slowly.
“Good.”
She laughs.
“Good?”
My grin grows.
“Yeah.”
I kiss her again.
“Because I’m kind of obsessed with you.”
Her eyes soften.
“You are such a sap.”
“Only for you.”
That earns me another smile. And I’d do just about anything to keep seeing that smile.
I guide her over to the couch. She immediately curls into my side.
The movie starts. Within twenty minutes she’s stolen half my fries. Then my popcorn. Then my candy. She claims she’s sharing. I know she’s lying. Not that I stop handing it over.
Halfway through the movie she looks up at me.
“Do you think you could do that?”
“What?”
She points at Patrick Swayze.
“Dance like that.”
I snort.
“You give me way too much credit.”
She laughs.
“Probably.”
The movie continues. The fairy lights glow softly around us. The river outside reflects the last bit of daylight. And I spend most of the movie watching Hannah instead of the screen. Not that she’d ever let me admit that.
Eventually the final scene starts. The Time of My Life begins playing. I glance down at Hannah.
Then stand.
She immediately looks up. Confused.
I hold out my hand.
“Come on.”
“No.”
“Come on.”
She laughs.
“Garrett.”
I wiggle my fingers.
“Trust me.”
She shakes her head.
“Always.”
Then she takes my hand.
My heart does that stupid thing it always does whenever she says stuff like that.
I pull her to her feet. Then wrap my arms around her.
We sway together in the middle of the cabin. Neither of us attempting any fancy dance moves. Thank God. Because I would absolutely drop her.
She laughs.
“You’re not even attempting the lift.”
I laugh too.
“Wellsey, I value your life.”
That only makes her laugh harder.
The song ends. The credits roll. But neither of us stop dancing.
We just keep swaying slowly together.
The river outside. The fairy lights glowing around us. Her arms around my neck. My hands on her waist. Her head resting against my chest.
Honestly? I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.
I tilt her chin upward. Her eyes meet mine. And suddenly everything else fades away. The cabin. The river. The music. Everything.
There’s only Hannah. There has only ever been Hannah.
I lean down and kiss her. Softly. Slowly. Like I have all the time in the world.
She immediately melts into me. Her fingers sliding into my hair. My arms tightening around her waist.
God. I love this girl.
I love her laugh. I love her smile. I love the way she steals all my food. I love the way she says my name. I love everything about her.
When we finally pull apart, her forehead rests against mine. She’s smiling. And suddenly every second of planning this weekend feels worth it.
I’d rent a hundred cabins. Plan a hundred birthdays. Sit through a thousand viewings of Dirty Dancing. Just to see that smile.
For the first time in a long time, it feels like we have all the time in the world.
I carry her to the bedroom as she clings to my body.
I lower her onto the mattress, the old springs giving a soft creak beneath her weight, and she moans straight into my mouth.
Fuck. I will never get tired of hearing that.
My lips curve against hers. Can't help it. The sound she makes—this half-catch, half-gasp thing that starts somewhere deep in her throat—hits me every single time. Like a shot of whisky straight to the bloodstream. Warm. Disorienting. Addictive.
I pull back just enough to see her. Hannah's eyes are already glassy, her pupils blown wide enough that the hazel ring around them has nearly disappeared. Her lips are parted, slick from kissing, and her chest rises and falls in these short, uneven bursts.
She's barely holding it together.
Good.
I kiss the corner of her mouth. Then the arch of her cheekbone, the skin there impossibly soft. She tilts her head, offering me more, and I take it—dragging my mouth slow to the shell of her ear.
"God," she breathes.
"Not quite."
I can feel my own smile against her skin as I kiss just beneath her ear, that spot I found three months ago that makes her whole body go liquid. Sure enough, her hips shift, pressing up against the thigh I've wedged between hers, and my hand drifts down her ribcage. Over the plane of her stomach. Fingertips tracing the waistband of her underwear.
Cotton. Pale blue. The ones I told her I liked two weeks ago when she folded laundry on a Sunday afternoon and I couldn't stop staring at her hands.
Her hips start moving—a small, unconscious roll—and the heat bleeding through that thin fabric is enough to make my breath catch.
I lean close to her ear. Keep my voice low. "What do you want, Wellsey?"
The last name thing started as a joke. She was just another paralegal at the firm, someone I passed in the hall with a nod and a coffee order. Then she became Hannah. Then she became mine. But I still pull out the Wellsey when I want to watch her unravel, because it reminds her exactly how far we've fallen.
She swallows. I hear it. "I—I—"
A moan swallows the rest.
My fingers dip lower, just beneath the elastic, not quite where she needs me. "I didn't quite catch that." I kiss her throat, slow and deliberate, right over her pulse. The beat is frantic. "What did you say you want?"
I press the heel of my palm against her over the cotton, right where she's most sensitive.
"Oh God."
"No, baby." I lift my head, letting her see the grin I can't suppress. "It's Garrett."
Her eyes flutter open for half a second—narrow, indignant, desperate—before they close again. "I—I want—" Another shaky inhale. "I want you. Please."
That last word breaks on a whisper.
My hand moves. I slip my fingers beneath the fabric and find her, slick and hot, and stroke.
Her hips buck.
Her head falls back against the pillow, throat arched, lips parted on a moan that sounds almost pained. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her fingers fisting the comforter like she needs an anchor.
With my free hand, I catch her chin. Gently. Guide her face back toward me.
"Look at me while I touch you, baby."
Her eyes open. God, they're wild. Desperate and glassy and fixed on me with an intensity that sends a jolt straight to my cock.
"Do you want me to just touch you..."
I slide one finger inside her, and she clamps down so hard—so tight, so wet, so immediately—that my vision whites out for half a beat.
"...or?"
I don't finish the sentence. Don't need to.
Her eyes go feral. "Or," she gasps. "I want or. I need you, Garrett. Please—" She's already nodding, already pulling at my shirt. "Inside. Now. Please."
Watching her lose her mind like this—watching Hannah Wellsey, who color-codes her spreadsheets and alphabetizes her spice rack and once told me she "doesn't do casual" with such conviction I almost believed her—completely fall apart beneath my hands...
It might be the best thing I've ever seen.
I withdraw my finger and she whimpers. An actual whimper, high and thin, like I've just taken something essential from her. The sound goes straight to my spine.
Increased urgency overtakes us. I yank at her clothes—her blouse, her bra, the pale blue underwear—and she's doing the same, sitting up just long enough to tear her shirt over her head, and then I'm struggling with my belt, my zipper, my boxers, and in seconds flat we're both naked and I'm on top of her again.
The skin-to-skin contact nearly undoes me.
I line myself up, one hand braced beside her shoulder, and guide her leg to rest against my thigh, opening her for a better angle. Her eyes are locked on mine. There's a question in my face that I don't speak out loud.
She answers anyway.
"Yes, Garrett." Her voice cracks. "Please. I need you t—"
I thrust inside her.
The words die in her throat, replaced by a moan so loud it echoes off the bedroom walls. She arches up, fingers digging into my back—nails, actually, sharp little crescents I'll feel tomorrow—and I pause there, fully seated, letting her body adjust to me.
Jesus Christ.
"You're always so fucking wet," I breathe, forehead dropping to hers. "And so fucking tight. It's—" A laugh, disbelieving, punches out of me. "Unbelievable."
"Oh God, Garrett."
She starts moving first. Her hips buck, seeking friction, and I take the cue.
We settle into a rhythm. Steady. Deep. The kind of pace where every stroke drags against something electric, something that builds and builds until you forget your own name.
Her breaths go ragged.
Her legs tighten around me.
I feel her start to clench—that telltale flutter around my cock that means she's close, right on the edge—and I drop my mouth to her ear.
"Come on, baby." My voice is wrecked now, hoarse. "Let go for me."
"Garrett." She says my name like a warning. Or maybe a prayer.
"I know."
My hand snakes between our bodies, finding the bud of nerves I know better than my own reflection by now, and I circle it once. Twice. Press.
She spasms around me.
It's the most euphoric feeling in the world—her body gripping mine, rhythmic and involuntary, pulling me deeper. A white-hot vise that doesn't let go. The sounds she makes are half-sob, half-song, and they coat the inside of my chest like honey.
"Oh fuck. Hannah—"
My own control splinters.
"I'm gonna come." It's barely a sentence. A plea, really. "Can I?"
"Yes." Her voice is shattered glass. Her eyes find mine. "Please, Garrett. Fill me up."
That does it.
I go off like a rocket. Like a detonation. The kind of release that blanks out everything behind my eyes—no thought, no sound, no world outside this bed—just pulse after pulse after pulse until I collapse onto my elbows, shuddering.
The room goes quiet except for our breathing.
I ease out of her slowly, carefully, and she winces at the loss. Then I pull her against my side, and she curls into me like she was made to fit there. Our skin sticks together, slick with sweat, and neither of us speaks.
"That was—" she starts, eventually.
"I know." A breathy laugh. "That definitely was."
She tilts her face up to look at me. Hair a mess. Cheeks flushed. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"I love you so much," I say.
She kisses me. Soft now. Warm.
"I love you more."