Chapter Text
Their house smelled like beer and sweat. Which meant the party was dying.
Bodies still crowded the living room, music still thumped through the speakers, and someone was loudly arguing about video game hockey in the kitchen, but the energy had shifted hours ago, from drunk and chaotic to lazy and half-dead.
Logan leaned back against the couch with a bottle hanging loosely from his hand while Dean flirts shamelessly with two girls near the staircase.
Typical.
Tucker was passed out in an armchair.
Also typical.
And Garrett... “Get your damn feet off my table.” he said glaring across the room at a freshman defenseman currently ignoring him completely.
Logan snorted into his beer. “Y’know,” he drawled, “you get more aggressive every year.”
Garrett flipped him off without looking away from the kid. “I’m two seconds away from murdering half this team.”
“Only half?” Logan asked smirking
Before Garrett could answer, the front door swung open hard enough to hit the wall. Cold air rushed inside.
And then:
“Jesus Christ, this place smells disgusting.” a female familiar voice said overly dramatic.
Logan looked up automatically.
Rachel Graham stood in the doorway wearing leggings, an oversized Briar hockey hoodie (wich was, by the way, stolen) and the kind of expression that suggested she’d rather be literally anywhere else. Still… she was here.
Her duffel bag slid off her shoulder as she kicked the door shut behind her.
“Oh, thank God,” Dean said immediately. “An attractive person finally showed up.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Still using that line?”
“Still working?” he winked
“It’s really not.” she said casually
Garrett frowned from the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”
She stared at him blankly. “Hello to you too, sunshine.” she said sarcastically as she moved to give him a light kiss on the cheek
“Weren't you in practice?” he asked as he leaned down to receive it.
“Yeah… like three hours ago.” She said checking her phone for the time. “I texted you.”
Garrett pulled his phone out, checked it, then shoved it back into his pocket. “Didn’t see it.”
“No way,” she deadpanned. “You mean you ignored your phone during a party? That’s so unlike you.” she said sarcastically.
Logan huffed out a laugh before he could stop himself.
Rachel’s eyes flicked toward him briefly. Just for a second. Like she only now knowledge he was there.
Then she walked straight past the couch and headed for the kitchen like she owned the place. Which, honestly, she kind of did at this point. Especially when Dean instantly got her bag from the floor and takes it to the living room, like a second nature.
Nobody questioned it anymore.
Not when she’d been hanging around the team since their freshmen year, all along her high school visits and now in her freshman year. Not when she knew all their names, their habits, their schedules. Not when she walked into their house without knocking and immediately started stealing their food.
“Is that my pizza?” Dean yelled. Watching her take a container off the fridge.
Rachel opened the takeout container. “If you have to ask, they’re not yours anymore.”
“That 's stealing.” he complained
“That’s survival.” he replied already placing the leftover on the microwave
Dean pretended to be annoyed about it. But not really, already accepting the terrible fate that his leftover pizza didn't belong to him anymore. Garrett, meanwhile, was still watching his sister with narrowed eyes like she might spontaneously set the house on fire if left unsupervised for too long.
She was too much like Garrett. Same sharp mouth, same stubborn confidence, same tendency to look at people like she already knew exactly how to win the argument before it started.
It made her annoyingly difficult to intimidate.
Logan had learned that pretty quickly.
The first time they met, she’d looked him up and down and said:
“You definitely look like a hockey player,” she said.
Logan laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The hair. The ego. The vacant expression. Very on brand.”
That had been two years ago.
And now she was just… always there. Curled up on their couch during movie nights. Stealing all their hoodies. Yelling at the TV during games. Bullying Dean with terrifying efficiency. Part of the furniture, basically.
Rachel hopped onto the kitchen counter and pointed at Logan bottle. “Is that the last diet coke?”
“No…” he lied, looking away knowing she would fight for it.
“Give Me it” she ordered
Logan held the bottle out lazily. “Then come take it, Granham.”
Her eyes narrowed immediately.
Garrett didn’t even look up from his phone. “Don’t encourage her.”
“Too late man” Dean said.
Rachel slid off the counter and walked over. Logan expected her to snatch the bottle and leave.
Instead, she stopped directly in front of him.
Close enough for him to notice the cold flush in her cheeks from outside. Close enough to smell winter air and something faintly sweet under it.
She tilted her head. And pounted cutely.
Logan grinned slowly. “That's not gonna work on me, princess, I'm not your brother… or Tucker”
“But… there is only beer left in the fridge.” she said sadly
She was close enough for him to notice the cold pink flush on her cheeks from outside. Close enough to smell winter air and something soft and sweet underneath it.
She tilted her head slightly.
“Come on, Johnny,” she said softly. “You’re really gonna let Garrett’s little sister die of dehydration?”
Logan grinned slowly.
“Pretty sure coke does the opposite.”
“Wow,” she said, unimpressed. “And they let you into college.” she said sarcastcally
Dean barked out a laugh somewhere behind them.Logan looked down at her, still smiling, and leaned the bottle in his hand willingly. She smiled and grabbed the bottle before moving to the living room. With his soda and Dean's pizza.
But across the room, Garrett was watching the entire interaction with narrowed eyes. He knew hockey players couldn’t be trusted around his sister. Good thing Logan agreed. And he had nothing to worry about.
“So… what are you doing here, Baby G?” Tucker asked sleepily, barely lifting his head from the armchair as Rachel practically threw herself onto the couch with Logan’s stolen coke still in hand.
“My roommate’s having her boyfriend over tonight,” she said easily, stretching her legs across the cushions. “She asked me to disappear for a few hours.”
Dean looked offended on her behalf. “And your first thought was to come here?”
Rachel took another sip of the soda. “Well, yeah. You idiots always have food.”
“That’s weirdly touching,” Dean admitted.
“It’s not meant to be.”
Garrett pointed at her from the kitchen. “You’re not sleeping here.”
Rachel blinked at him. “I literally wasn’t asking permission.”
“You should.” he replied
“Fine,” Rachel said dramatically. “I’ll just sleep in some motel then.”
Garrett looked horrified. “Absolutely not.” he basically shouted, she smirked seeing he felt for her teasing. “You are not staying alone in some random motel.”
Rachel threw her hands up. “You seriously need to stop acting like I require constant supervision.”
Garrett stared at her blankly. “Rachel...”
“What?” she askes knowing
“Two days ago you got suspended from practice for fighting another girl.”
Rachel scoffed immediately. “She deserved it.”
“Wait, what?” Dean perked up instantly.
Rachel scoffed. “Some girl at practice kept acting like I stole her routine or something.”
“You did steal her routine,” Garrett muttered.
“She wasn’t performing it correctly.” she said offended
“And you threw a skate guard at her.”
Her jaw dropped dramatically. “It barely hit her.”
Logan barked out a laugh. And Tucker and Dean joined.
Rachel pointed at them immediately. “Thank you.”
Garrett looked exhausted. “I hate all of you.”
“That’s not true,” Rachel said sweetly. “You love me.”
“I tolerate you because we share DNA.”
“Aww.” She leaned back deeper into the couch cushions, entirely too comfortable for someone who technically didn’t live there. Not that anyone was surprised.
At some point over the years, Rachel had stopped being Garrett’s little sister visiting campus and started becoming part of the house itself. He sat on the end fof that same couch and looked at her. She looked exhausted.
There was still faint glitter near her eyes from practice, her hair messy from being shoved into a rushed ponytail, oversized hoodie sleeves covering half her hands.
Cute.
The thought came and went so fast Logan barely registered it.
Garrett’’s sister.
Mouthy figure skater.
Professional thief of their food.
Human headache.
Nothing more.
“Hey,” Rachel suddenly said, tossing a pretzel at his chest. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
Logan caught it automatically. “I’m trying to figure out how Garrett and you came from the same genetic pool.”
“Easy,” she replied. “I got the personality. He got the anger issues.”
Garrett flipped her off from across the room.
“See? I’m right.” Rachel smiled proudly. “Anyways,” Rachel said, taking another sip “you boys don’t mind me. Just finish your party. I can sleep on the couch.”
She sounded completely unconcerned about it already, like the decision had been made hours ago and everyone else was just catching up. Before Garrett could argue again, she shifted deeper into the cushions, grabbing one of the throw pillows and shoving it under her head.
Logan snorted softly.
“She’s nesting.” Tucker said
“I do not nest,” Rachel mumbled, eyes already half-closed.
“That's my pillow by the way,” Dean pointed out.
“Communism.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not how communism works.” he pointed out
Garrett crossed his arms. “You’re not sleeping down here while the house is still filled with people”
Rachel cracked one eye open to stare at him. “Garrett. I grew up with you. Trust me when I say none of your friends scare me.”
“That’s because you have terrible survival instincts.”
She smiled lazily. “Maybe. But I’m tired enough to care.”
And honestly, she looked exhausted. The dark circles under her eyes were faint but there, her voice rough with sleepiness after what was probably hours at the rink. Figure skating looked elegant until you actually watched the training. Then it just looked painful.
Logan had seen enough practices to know that much.
Rachel shifted again until her sock-covered feet ended up in his lap without warning.
He looked down at them. Then at her.
“…seriously?” he said annoyed
“You’re warm,” she said simply, not even bothering to move.
Garrett rubbed a hand down his face like this entire room was raising his blood pressure by the second.
Within minutes, her breathing evened out. Asleep. Even with the music and chatting around her.
Dean noticed first. “Wow. She’s actually dead.”
Garrett immediately grabbed the nearest blanket and tossed it over her without a second thought.
Something in Logan’s chest tightened strangely at the sight.
Not because Garrett was protective, that part was expected. But because Rachel relaxed almost instantly after the blanket covered her. Like she trusted, without even thinking about it, that her brother would always take care of her.
Garrett glanced toward Logan then. “Don’t let anyone wake her up.”
Logan frowned. “and why I am responsible to that” he asked annoyed
“Because I know you won't anyways,” Garrett said, clapping Logan’s shoulder once before heading to probably end the party.
It wasn’t even said like a warning. That was the worst part. It sounded like trust.
Dean followed right behind him, still muttering something about his stolen pillow, while Tucker dragged himself upstairs looking half-conscious.
And then suddenly, the living room was quiet. And Rachel asleep beside him. Or technically… on him.
Logan looked down carefully. Her feet were still in his lap, tangled under the blanket Garrett had thrown over her earlier. One of her hands was tucked under her cheek, hair falling across her face messily.
She looked peaceful asleep.
Softer.
Not like the sharp-mouthed girl constantly arguing with everybody in the house. Just tired.
Logan shifted slightly, testing the others to see if he could leave.
Rachel immediately made a small sound of protest and moved closer unconsciously, pressing her legs more firmly against him like she was searching for warmth in her sleep.
Logan frozen.
Completely frozen.
“…seriously?” he muttered under his breath. And throw his head back.
Because now if he moved, she’d wake up. And somehow that felt illegal. At how exausted she looked.
He leaned his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling with the exhausted resignation of a man realizing the universe hated him personally.
This was ridiculous.
The same girl who once laughed at him for walking into a glass door.
The same girl who stole his fries every single time she came over.
The same girl who called him “Johnny boy” specifically because she knew it annoyed him.
There was absolutely no reason for him to suddenly be hyper aware of the weight of her legs across his lap. Or the heaviness of her breathing, or the hair falling on her face.
And yet— His eyes dropped back to her face.
A strand of hair had fallen over her cheek. Without thinking, Logan reached over slightly to move it away.
The second his fingers brushed her skin, Rachel frowned softly in her sleep before relaxing again almost immediately.
Trusting. Comfortable.
Like she never once considered he could be anything except safe. Something twisted strangely in his chest.
Logan pulled his hand back fast.
“Yeah,” he muttered to himself quietly, staring back at the ceiling again. “This is exactly how people die.”