Puck The Halls | Jack Hughes

THIRTY ONE

BEING ALONE WITH JACK HUGHES WAS EXACTLY WHAT I needed today. The sun was on its way down, we had music playing gently in the background of his speakers and my legs were tucked up under me as he drove us anywhere and everywhere. Aimless conversation filtered between us, talking about anything in the world that came to mind. It was perfect, because it was a moment just for us.

I'd never had Jack all to myself on my birthday, and despite having to endure anxiety filled conversations this morning, I couldn't help but think this was turning out to be the best birthday ever.

"I know this is probably the wrong time to bring it up," Jack spoke, his tone cautious. "But you know I only have one day left until I have to go back to hockey, back to Jersey."

I felt my heart sink, I did know that, I'd seen the roster, the scheduled game for New Jersey against Ottawa. I was actively trying not to think about it. "I know."

"I hope you know that just because I'm back to work, back to being Jack Hughes, it doesn't change anything between us."

I stare at him, blinking, because he was answering the questions I was too afraid to ask all on his own.

"I'm still yours and you're still mine," he breathed, lacing our fingers together in the centre console of his car as he drove. "I'm going to make it work, Miracle. I promise."

"I know," I whispered, and I did. I might have doubted Jack a few weeks ago, hell, a few days ago, but I don't doubt him now.

"I want you to know that my schedule is fucked," he admitted, laughing lightly at his own words, as if he was sort of dreading going back. "I love my job, I love Hockey, but damn, it's a lot."

Smiling at the boy beside me gently, I reached across to kiss his cheek. "You'll do so good, and I'll come watch some games."

Jack blushed at my words, hard. I hadn't watched him play a game since I was a teenager. "For real?"

"Yes," I giggle, squeezing his hand. "Obviously I want to watch my boyfriend play."

Somehow, Jack's blush deepens, reaching all the way to his ears and the back of his neck. "B-boyfriend?"

And suddenly I'm flustered, stumbling over my words and not sure what to do. Fuck. I'd just said that. Sure, we'd called each other each others, but we hadn't yet put labels on it. Fuck fuck fuck. "U-um, I mean, um, no, uh, maybe, I—"

I gasped as Jack cut me off by slamming on his breaks in the middle of the quiet residential street with no warning. He unclipped his seatbelt, reached across the dash with an ear to ear smile, placed a hand on either one of my cheeks, then kissed me slowly, tenderly.

It felt like we were kissing for eternity, not even the sound of a car beeping its horn and speeding around us could pull Jack and I from our moment. He deepened the kiss with ease, tongue slipping past my lips as a content sigh falls from my lips.

"J-Jack," I breathe between kisses. "What are you doing?"

He doesn't stop, but he does pull away for a fraction of a second to murmur against my lips: "kissing my girlfriend."

I feel my heart skip a beat and my stomach flip repeatedly at his words. Words I'd never in a million years think I'd hear from the mouth of Jack. He could kill me with those words. I suddenly never wanted this night to end. I never wanted to let Jack go back to work, never wanted to start college, never wanted life to go on. I just wanted to stay here, in the warmth of his car, with his lips against mine and his fingers tangled in my hair and his hands cradling my face.

"Here's an idea," Jack grinned, pulling away after what felt like a lifetime. "Quit college, move to Jersey, be my sugar baby."

I burst into a fit of laughter, knowing he wasn't serious but also sort of wishing maybe he was. I'd do it. I'd be a great sugar baby. "How about I just visit whenever I can?"