Chapter Text
Wrong Side of Midnight
The party was already loud by the time Hannah arrived.
Bass rattled through the old off-campus house, shaking the floorboards beneath her boots while bodies crowded every inch of the living room. Someone had spilled beer near the staircase. A hockey player she vaguely recognized was attempting to crowd surf and failing miserably.
Typical Briar Friday night.
“Remind me why I agreed to this?” Hannah muttered.
Beside her, Allie grinned. “Because you’ve been buried in studio work for three weeks and your boyfriend threatened to drag you out manually.”
As if summoned, Garrett appeared from the kitchen carrying two red cups. His backwards cap shadowed amused blue eyes.
“There she is.” He handed Hannah a drink before pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Thought you ditched us.”
“I considered it.”
“Rude.”
His hand settled automatically on her waist, warm and familiar, and Hannah hated how easily he could steady her entire nervous system with one touch.
Garrett leaned closer. “You okay?”
And there it was.
The real reason she almost hadn’t come tonight.
Tomorrow morning was her interview in New York. Huge recording studio. Huge opportunity. Potentially life-changing.
Potentially relationship-changing too.
“I’m fine,” she lied.
Garrett studied her for a second too long. “You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The overthinking thing.”
“I do not have a thing.”
“You absolutely have a thing.”
Allie snorted into her drink before escaping toward the dance floor. Coward.
Garrett tugged Hannah toward the quieter hallway near the laundry room. The sounds of the party dulled slightly there, replaced by muffled music and distant shouting.
“You wanna talk about it?” he asked softly.
Hannah crossed her arms. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Babe.”
That one word nearly cracked her open.
Because Garrett always sounded sincere when he said things like that. No games. No ego. Just him.
She exhaled shakily. “What if I get it?”
His brows lifted. “The internship?”
“Yeah.”
“Then we celebrate?”
“In New York.”
A beat of silence.
“Oh,” he said.
There it was. The tiny shift in his expression he tried to hide.
Hannah stared down at her cup. “It’s six months.”
“That’s not forever.”
“But hockey season starts.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“You say that like it’s easy.”
Garrett stepped closer until her back nearly brushed the wall. “Who said easy?”
The tension between them tightened—not angry exactly. Just raw.
Real.
“You want the truth?” he murmured.
She nodded.
“I hate the idea of you leaving.” His jaw flexed. “But I’d hate you giving this up for me even more.”
Hannah’s chest ached.
Because this stupid, beautiful idiot always knew exactly how to love her properly.
Her fingers curled into the front of his hoodie. “You’re making it really difficult to be dramatic.”
He grinned faintly. “Yeah, I’m the worst.”
“You really are.”
But she kissed him anyway.
Slow at first.
Then not slow at all.
Garrett’s hand slid into her hair as the party noise disappeared completely beneath the rush of heat between them. Hannah melted into him, into the familiar taste of beer and mint and Garrett.
Someone wolf-whistled from down the hall.
Neither of them moved.
“Get a room!” Dean shouted.
Garrett pulled back just enough to call, “Mind your business!”
Dean cackled somewhere in the distance.
Hannah laughed breathlessly against Garrett’s mouth.
And for one perfect second, tomorrow didn’t exist. It was just them basking in each others presence.
The feeling of being home.