You squint as you wake up, the sun shining brightly on your face. As soon as you see the view outside the glass, you know you’re not in your room. You look down at yourself to see that you’re not wearing anything, and there’s an arm around your waist. It looks really familiar, but you look at the face to see if you matched the arm to the person.
Crap, you whisper in your mind. Your best friend, Torey Krug, is the sleeping face that faces you. You’ve liked him since you two met at MSU, but you kept it to yourself. You went out with him and the other Bruins to celebrate the win last night, and as you retrace your footsteps from the evening before, you remember everything. The line of shots with Torey and Brad, the beers that Tuukka bought for the whole team, and the glass of Irish whiskey that you and Torey clinked to makes your stomach turn, and you promise to yourself that you will never drink alcohol unless it’s champagne for something special like an engagement party or something.
What confuses you the most is that you and Torey had sex with each other. Maybe he was just a horny drunk, but he could’ve taken anybody else home last night. After all, he WAS the one that made the first move. You just went along because you haven’t had sex since college, which was almost a whole year ago, and you weren’t going to turn down the offer, especially since it came from him and not some douchebag.
You start to move, but Torey’s arm tightens around you. You wiggle around a little and manage to get free from his grip. You pick up your underwear and slide it up your legs. You then find your bra and clasp it before adjusting the straps on your shoulders. You pick up your shorts and shirt and throw those on. You remember that your shoes were kicked off as soon as you stepped into the apartment, so you grab your phone from the floor and sneak into the hallway, hoping not to disturb his roommate, Bartkowski.
You’re about to grab your sneakers when you hear footsteps pad into the room, and his voice drifts into your ears, making you freeze in your spot.
"Y/N, what are you doing?"
You straighten up and look at him. He must’ve pulled on his boxers to cover up enough so that he didn’t scar anybody that was probably crashing for the night.
“I thought it would be easier than facing you when you woke up,” you admit.
"Did what I think happen actually happen last night?"
You nod, and you look down at your feet, missing the grin that stretches across his face for a few seconds.
"Can I go now?" you ask.
"Why? I don’t want you to leave," he confesses.
You stop and stare at him. You never thought you would hear those words come from his mouth. You expected to get with some asshat because they seemed to be the only ones that hit on you. Never in a million years did you expect your best friend to say that.
"Look," he says, and he steps forward, taking your hand in his, "I really, really like you. I remember meeting you and thinking that you are the most beautiful girl I have ever met. I always told myself that somebody as breathtaking as you would never get with some hockey geek like me, so I pushed my feelings aside and focused on my schoolwork and ice work. Last night was amazing. It was the best sex I’ve ever had, and that’s because I did it with you and not some random girl from the bar. Doing it with somebody you like and care about feels different than a one night stand. I don’t know why, but it is, and it feels amazing. Even though I was drunk as hell, j remember everything, and I hope you do, too. Here I am, putting myself out there while only wearing boxers, when you look like a deer in headlights.
You both chuckle, and he continues. “I really want you to stay, but I still feel like a guy like could never get a girl like you, so you can leave if you want.”
You’ve never felt like this before. You just want to tell him that you’ve always felt like the roles were switched, so you never made a move. You want to tell him that you feel the exact same way, but you don’t know how to approach it, so you kiss him instead. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer. You feel his body heat radiating off onto you, and you çan actually hear his heart pounding faster and faster as the kiss lasts. You wish he never shaved his head - even though it wad for a good cause - so that you could run your fingers through his hair. You fibnaly pull away and rest your forehead against his.
"Torey, I’ve been trying to tell you that since I met you. I’ve felt the exact same way this whole time, but I saw all the other girls that wanted you in college, so I pushed my feelings aside as well. I’ve been waiting for so long to hear this come from you," you whisper.
"So I’ve had a chance this whole time?" he asks you.
"Mhm. You still do," you say as you hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers. He picks you up and carries you to his bedroom.
As you lay there from waking up a few hours later, you realize that this relationship feels different. It feels right. He’s the one.
-Emily
