Puck The Halls | Jack Hughes

EIGHT

I coughed, hard, choking on my own saliva. "I'm sorry did you just say Wattpad?"

He chuckles, his cheeks tinging pink to match my own. "Hey, sometimes I get bored on road trips, gotta pass the time somehow."

"So you read fanfiction?" I gawk, eyes wide open as he continues to shrug it off casually.

"Only if it's about me."

In pure disbelief, I gasp. "Who are you?"

He laughs, dropping my waist and beginning to walk out of the store, tossing the tiara in a random toy aisle. We're quiet for a moment, me trying to figure out how I never knew Jack had read fanficiton about himself. I wondered what else I didn't know.

"What's your favourite trope?" I ask before I can stop myself, immediately regretting it. Jack stares at me like he's just discovered hockey for the first time. I look away, blush so intense it reaches my ears.

"You've read Jack Hughes fanfiction, haven't you, Miracle?"

I giggle, not being able to hold back the inner child as I pretend like I definitely haven't spent all night lying in bed reading about Jack. It wasn't my fault people had written books about him, who was I to ignore that?

"I've read Quinn fanfiction," I tell him, squinting through a glare.

He scrunches his nose. "I'm hurt, read about me instead, loser."

We're quiet again as I mull over his words, contemplating them. He wanted me to read about him? It's like he can tell I'm thinking about it, because he's suddenly smiling again, leaning out to grab my hips and pull me to him. He throws an arm around my shoulders, using his hand to ruffle my hair playfully before pulling me close again.

"What's your favourite trope?" He asks, eyebrows raised as he looks down at me, expression unreadable.

I consider giving him another sarcastic comment, but ultimately decide against it. This was Jack, it was all in good fun and we were laughing, I hadn't laughed with Jack in a long long time.

"Forced proximity," I tell him, sighing, and waiting for the insult that may follow.

He paused, stopping us both in the quiet aisle that I've now discovered is the Christmas section. Fantastic. Cocking his head, he seems to come to an internal decision and suddenly I'm being pushed against the nearest wall. His arms are either side of my face, his palms flat against the wall as his chest presses firmly to my own. I can feel every inch of his torso, his chest, his—my body is on fire.

"Like this?" He whispers, eyes hooded as his head dips to meet mine.

I look up at him, determined to prove that I wasn't complete putty in his hands. He was smirking, amused, as my lashes fluttered up so I could look at him.

Sucking in a breath, I realise our lips are inches apart. "Yes."

He laughs, it's low and sweet and music to my ears. His fingers are suddenly grazing the skin of my cheek, pushing the stray hairs on my face back behind my ear. "You wanna know mine?"

My heart does a hiccup, we're still whispering. "Yes."

Jack's lips pull to the left ever so slightly, his lips are dangerously near mine, and my heart feels like it could beat out of my chest. "Brothers best friend."

I gasp without meaning to, a tiny sound. "You are my brothers best friend.

"I know," he breathes. "Are you are mine, pretty girl."

"Um, excuse me?" A voice asks, breaking the tension between Jack and I immediately as we both jump apart, not prepared to be caught. It felt like we were kids again, sneaking around together just to spend a few minutes alone. I turn to the voice, it's an employee, she looks horrified. "My manager says if you guys aren't going to buy anything you have to leave."