SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL, J.HUGHES

SIXTY SIX

JACK'S POV

I've been quiet the entire time until we get into the parking lot. 

I slide the window down for some air, feeling like I might puke any second. "You know I'm nervous as hell," I admit, glancing at Luke. My hand covers my mouth like that's going to help.

Luke smirks, totally unbothered. "Yeah, I know. I can tell," he says, his voice way too casual for what I'm about to do.

I tell him to hang on before we head into practice, trying to breathe and stop the nausea. "Imagine she says no," he adds, making me gag again. Why the hell did I tell him anything?

"That's the thing," I say, voice cracking a bit. "I'm scared she will." My mind runs through all the what-ifs. What if it's too soon? What if she's still haunted by her past?

Luke snickers until I punch him in the gut. "I'd trade you for Quinn any day," I grunt as I get out of the car, still feeling like I'm seconds away from losing it.

By the time we hit the locker room, I'm trying to act like everything's normal, but inside? I'm freaking out. Bratt spots me first, of course. He's grinning like a guy who's heard way too much. "You're so green, buddy," he says, shaking my shoulder.

I shove him off. "Yeah, well, I almost puked in the car, so..."

Bratt laughs, and then Mercer jumps in. "Dude, you gotta chill," he says, like this is some casual thing. Then Nico chimes in from the other side of the room, all confident. "She's gonna say yes, bro. You guys literally just signed a house together."

My palms are sweating, and I wipe them on my pants for like, the fifth time since I stepped out of the car. Even though it's cool inside the rink, I feel like I'm on fire. My heart's hammering in my chest, and I know my face must still be pale as hell.

I rub the back of my neck, feeling the tension coiled up in my shoulders. "It's not that simple, man. I'm not trying to be her rebound from that mess in Cali. She was engaged to that guy, they had a house. That's not nothing, you know?"

Nico narrows his eyes, leaning forward as he elbows Bratt in the ribs. "Yeah, with some dude ten years older than her. Come on, bro. You're Jack freakin' Hughes. She's got a house with you now, not him."

I clench my jaw, pacing in a tight circle. My skates scrape against the concrete floor, the sound making me more anxious. "I know, I know. But what if she freaks out? What if I'm moving too fast? She's been through all this before, I don't wanna be that guy who—"

Bratt cuts me off with a smirk. "That guy who what? Puts a rock on her finger and locks it down before anyone else gets a shot? Dude, she's all about you. You're just overthinking it. Besides, when you tell one of us, you might as well tell the whole damn team. We all know."

"Yeah, and we all know she's saying yes," Mercer adds, lacing up his skates. "If she survived your cooking on Valentine's Day, a proposal's nothing."

That makes everyone laugh, including me, but I still can't shake this gnawing feeling. My hands are practically trembling, so I shove them in my pockets to hide it. Nico slaps me on the back as we head toward the off-ice training area. "Trust me, man. It's gonna be fine. Stop thinking about Cali—think about tonight."

I nod, trying to focus, but my mind's spinning. The weight of the ring sitting in my bag feels like it's burning a hole through it. We reach the training area, and I take a deep breath, forcing myself to settle down.