Puck The Halls | Jack Hughes

EIGHTEEN

MIRACLE
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I'M RUGGED UP IN A PAIR OF SWEATS, A HOODIE AND my socks. My hair's just been washed so it hangs over my shoulders in loose, damp waves and my skin shines from my night time skin care routine that I barely ever followed through with, but tonight was different, tonight was Trevor and Jack's annual Christmas movie night.

I frequently reminded the boys that this was lame, but they'd been doing it on the first of December since they were kids. It was tradition, which meant Jack was over, he was staying over, and he'd been walls away all night.

I glanced over at the twenty four roses on my dresser, smiling to myself at the thought of them. Jack had never brought me flowers, and even though they were basically a bribe, the notion made my heart flutter nonetheless.

I grabbed my hairbrush, walking out of my bedroom and down the stairs to go and check on the boys, just in case they had decided to save my sanity this year and watch a normal movie. Something worth sitting through, and simply just because I wanted to see Jack in his black sweatpants I knew he'd be wearing and the t-shirt he'd probably left upstairs in the spare bedroom.

The movie was, unfortunately, Jim Carey's version of The Grinch, but Jack was shirtless either way, so I still made the effort to walk through the lounge room to get to the kitchen—which was knowingly the long way.

I strolled through the room casually, glaring at the television that played the dumb Christmas movie, my eyes only flickering to Jack and his bare chest once. Couldn't be too obvious. I could feel his gaze on me as I walked by, pretending not to notice the boys.

Jack was lying on his back, his neck curled awkwardly so that his chin touched his chest, his legs spread apart and his arms supported by pillows. He looked comfortable as hell, honestly, with a bag of potato chips on his lap. I silently wondered how to turn myself into potato chips.

He followed my movements, not even bothering to be subtle as his eyes raked over me, staring at me as I walked by.

I let out a breath the second I made it to the kitchen, a blush so deep it reached my neck spreading over my skin. It was suddenly hot in here, and I couldn't wear my hoodie a second longer. I knew what I was doing. I was being a little shit, but I did it anyway. I took off my hoodie, leaving me in just a plain black sports bra and my sweats that sat around my waist.

I grabbed a handful of cookies from the fridge, turning around and making my way back to my room, hoodie left on the kitchen bench.

Jack's eyes were on me the second I stepped into the room, though this time, he noticed the lack of shirt on my body. His eyes lit up as he sat up a notch, perking up at the sight of me, his own cheeks coated with a light pink.

"What are you watching?" I ask Trevor, knowing the answer, but wanting a reason to stay in the room anyway. I take a bite of one of my cookies, acting nonchalant.

Trevor raises a single eyebrow. "How the fuck do you not know what this is?"

I shrug, still not looking at Jack. His gaze is exclusively on me, while Trevor ignores my existence and watches the movie. "I don't watch Christmas movies."

"It's the Grinch," Jack tells me, forcing me to look at him. My bottom lip wedges its way between my teeth, nodding. He follows my movement, eyes landing on my mouth, causing him to suck in a breath. "You should watch with us."

I bat my eyelashes before stretching my neck, which draws Jack's eyes down a level, his gaze travelling down the length of my body. His blush deepens.

"I'm good," I tell him. "You boys have fun."