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“Close the door, Graham.”
Jensen studies him for a long moment before speaking. “You wanna tell me why I’m nervous about this weeks games?”
Garrett shrugs, dropping into the chair opposite the desk. “Could be because St. Anthony’s are assholes?”
“That too.” Jensen exhales sharply. “But mostly because the last time we played them you nearly killed Deleny.”
Garrett’s jaw tightens instantly.
“There it is,” Jensen mutters. “That look right there is exactly what I’m talking about.”
Garrett stares at the floor for a second before dragging a hand through his hair. “Look, Coach—”
“No. You listen first.” Jensen points at him. “The bruins coaching staff will be watching this game. The playoffs matter. Your future matters. Another fight like that? Another suspension? You are not untouchable enough for that to disappear.” Jensen sighs before continuing “I need your word there’s gonna be no funny business.”
Garrett laughs once under his breath.
“Graham.”
“I can’t promise that.”
The coach’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”
Garrett leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Any time I play Deleny, I’m gonna beat the shit out of him.”
“Why?”
“Not my story, Coach.”
“You keep saying that.” Jensen’s voice hardens. “But I’m running out of patience with it.”
Garrett looks away toward the office window.
“Did he say something to you?”
“No.”
“Did he do something to one of the guys?”
Garrett stays quiet.
“Then what the hell is this about?”
Garrett’s jaw flexes. “I said it’s not my story.”
“And I said if you won’t tell me, I don’t have a choice but to bench you.” Jensen rubs a hand over his face. “And believe me, Graham, I do not want to bench my best player before playoffs.”
“Sorry, Coach.” His voice is calm now. Certain. “Either I play and beat the shit outta Deleny…” he pauses shrugging his shoulders “…or I’m benched.”
Tucker made baked ziti, which somehow means every available surface in the apartment is covered in cheese, empty soda cans, and Dean complaining about carbs while eating thirds.
Hannah sits beside Garrett at the counter, legs tucked underneath her, stealing garlic bread off his plate.
Logan checks his phone first. “The fuck?”
Dean looks up from his food. “What?”
“You’re not starting.”
Garrett keeps eating.
Tuck nearly drops his fork. “Wait— what?”
Dean blinks. “Holy shit.”
Logan looks between Garrett and the screen. “Coach actually benched you?”
Garrett shrugs. “Looks like it.”
“Why?” Tucker asks immediately.
Dean narrows his eyes. “This about Deleny?”
Garrett takes another bite, ignoring the question.
Across the counter, Hannah slowly turns toward him, Her expression is perfectly neutral to everyone else, But Garrett knows her, Knows the slight narrowing of her eyes and the tiny lift of her brows ment they were gonna be talking about this later
Garrett suppresses a smile.
Dean notices. “Why are you smiling? Dude, your NHL career is actively imploding.”
“Relax,” Garrett says lazily.
“Easy for you to say,” Logan mutters. “You’re psychotic.”
That night, Hannah stands in Garrett’s bathroom rubbing cleanser across her face while Garrett leans against the doorframe watching her. He’s been staring for almost five minutes.
“You’re being weird,” Hannah says finally.
“I like your face.”
She rinses off the cleanser. “I am mad at you right now.”
Garrett grins immediately. “Why is that, Wellsy?”
“Because I don’t want my issues messing up your future.”
His smile fades a little. “Hannah—”
“No, seriously.” She grabs a towel. “You’re basically benching yourself because of me.”
Garrett pushes off the doorway and walks toward her slowly. “Baby, you are not messing up my future.”
He takes the towel from her hands and tosses it aside. “You are my future.”
Hannah’s expression softens despite herself “That is sweet and all,” she says quietly, “but you’re still risking everything.”
Garrett reaches up, brushing damp hair behind her ear. “Would you rather we have a repeat of the last St. Anthony’s game?
“No.”
“Then I’m benched.”
She exhales. “You should tell the guys,” she says suddenly.
Garrett freezes. “What?”
“You should tell them why.”
“Hannah.”
“I mean it.”
His eyes search hers carefully. “Wellsy…”
“I’m serious.” She swallows hard. “I don’t want them thinking you’re just some violent asshole.”
His hand slides to the back of her neck gently. “Only if you’re okay with it.”
“I am.”
“You sure?”
“No,” she admits honestly. “But I still think you should.”
Garrett stares at her for another second before nodding once.
“Okay.” Then softer “C’mere.”
Hannah steps into him immediately, wrapping her arms around his waist while he pulls her flush against his chest.
“You’re really annoying when you’re emotionally mature,” he murmurs into her hair.
She laughs quietly against him.
The next morning Hannah is halfway through class when her phone buzzes beneath the desk.
G: Gonna tell the guys. You sure you don’t wanna be here for it?
Wellsy: Nope. I would rather die.
G: You are the strongest person I know.
Wellsy: Love you.
G: Love you too.
The house is chaos as soon as the guys gets back from practice.
Dean and Logan are yelling at each other over a hockey game while Tucker attempts to referee from the couch.
Garrett stands in the doorway for a second watching them.
Then he says, “Pause it.”
Nobody looks up “Nah, bro,” Logan says.
“We can multitask,” Dean adds.
Garrett walks over, takes the controller directly out of Dean’s hands, and pauses the game himself.
Dean gasps dramatically. “Rude.”
“I need to tell you guys something.”
That gets their attention.
Tucker sits forward first. “Okay…”
“It’s about the game against St.A's"
“We assumed it was about what happened with Deleny last time,” Logan says carefully.
“Yeah,” Garrett says. “It is.”
Dean gestures impatiently. “Okay, then get on with it, dude. You made us pause the game for this.”
Garrett suddenly wishes Hannah was here, Or maybe he wishes she wasn’t.
He leans against the TV stand, crossing his arms tightly.
“Right, yeah, so…”
Nobody interrupts even when he stands there unable to say it out loud.
“He…” Garrett clears his throat roughly. “He raped Wellsy.”
Silence.
Dean’s face goes blank.
Tucker actually looks sick.
Logan stands up so fast the coffee table rattles.
“What?”
Garrett stares at the floor.
“It happened before I met her,” he says quietly. “High school.”
Nobody speaks.
For once, Dean genuinely has nothing sarcastic to say.
Tucker’s voice is the first one that works again. “Does she know we know?”
“Yeah.”
“And she’s okay with that?”
Garrett nods once.
Logan runs both hands over his face. “That’s why you almost killed him.”
“Yeah.”
Dean looks furious now. “And he still walks around completely free?”
Garrett laughs bitterly. “Welcome to the justice system.”
Tucker mutters, “Jesus Christ.”
Then Dean says quietly, “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Garrett shrugs helplessly. “Because it wasn’t my thing to tell.”
Logan’s jaw clenches. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
“Get in line,” Garrett mutters.
After class, Hannah heads back to her dorm exhausted.
Allie is sprawled across the floor surrounded by costume sketches and fabric swatches when Hannah walks in. Hannah drops onto her bed. “Garrett told the guys.”
Allie bolts upright. “He WHAT?”
Hannah quickly raises both hands. “I told him to.”
“Oh.”
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Hannah says quietly.
Allie studies her carefully before moving onto the bed beside her. “How do you feel about it?”
Hannah picks at a loose thread on her sleeve. “Scared.” she pauses for a moment trying to wrap her head around everything “What if they look at me differently now?”
“They won’t.”
“What if they pity me?”
“They definitely won’t.”
“What if they hate me because all this team drama is technically because of me?”
Allie stares at her for a full second. “Hannah Wells,” she says flatly. “As much as those guys are complete idiots…” She nudges Hannah’s shoulder gently. “…they are not that kind of assholes.”
“Movie night?” Allie asks.
“Absolutely.”
By ten o’clock, Hannah is curled under a blanket beside Allie while some terrible horror movie plays on her laptop, Half the lights are off.
And Hannah’s phone buzzes.
G: Finished evening skates.
G: Can I come over?
As she reads the messages another comes through
G: I know it’s game night and normally we don’t spend game nights together but I miss you.
Wellsy: Movie night. You can join if you want.
G: Be there in 15.
Fifteen minutes later there’s a knock at the door.
Garrett walks in wearing sweats carrying hannah’s favorite candy.
The second Hannah sees him she reaches for him automatically.
Garrett drops onto the bed beside her, pulling her into his chest with one arm while Allie throws popcorn at both of them.
“You guys are nauseating.”
Hannah laughs softly against Garrett’s shoulder.
An hour later the credits start rolling and hannah puts her laptop away,
“Am i good to stay here tonight” he askes kissing her head
“As long as you don’t complain about how small my bed is”
“I would never it gives me more excuses to be closer to you”
As hannah is in her bathroom getting changed garrett decided to check his texts most of which are from the hockey group chat.
Logan: If Deleny breathes near me tomorrow I’m taking the penalty.
Dean: Same.
Tuck: Guys Coach literally warned us already no funny buinsess
Dean: Coward.
Garrett groans. “Oh no.”
“What?” Hannah asks as she walks back in.
He shows her the messages. Her eyes widen. “Garrett Graham.”
“I didn’t tell them to do anything!”
“Yeah, but you told hockey players emotional information. That was your first mistake.”
The game is brutal from puck drop. Every hit is personal Every check against Deleny lasts a second too long.
Logan shoves him into the boards hard enough to draw a whistle in the first.
Dean chirps him nonstop between plays.
Even Tucker cross-checks him once or twice.
By first intermission, Coach Jensen storms into the locker room furious.
“What the fuck is going on out there?”
“We’re winning,” Dean says immediately.
“That is not what I’m talking about.”
“Well then does it matter?”
“Yes,” Jensen snaps. “Because I can’t afford to have my entire first line benched!”
Jensen looks between them slowly after nobody replies he continues. “Why are you idiots drawing penalties just to fuck with Deleny?”
Logan leans back against his stall. “We’re a team, no?”
Coach blinks once. “Excuse me?”
“You fuck with one of us,” Logan says coldly, “you fuck with all of us.”
“Keep off-ice activities off the ice.”
“Nah, fuck that,” Dean says. “You fuck with Wellsy, you’re fucking with G. And you don’t fuck with a player’s girl.”
Across the room, Garrett mutters, “Fuck.”
Too late. Jensen turns immediately. “Graham. My office. Now.”
Jensen shuts the locker room office door behind them.
“So this is all over a girl?”
Garrett crosses his arms. “I mean… not really.”
“Not really?” Jensen echoes incredulously. “Can you just tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Nope.”
“I will bench you for the rest of playoffs if you don’t.”
Garrett clenches his jaw.
“Not my story, Coach.”
“Then call your girlfriend and get her to tell me.”
Garrett’s head snaps up instantly. “Coach.”
“No. I’m done dancing around this.”
Garrett looks furious now.
Jensen softens slightly. “Graham… if something serious happened, I need to know.”
Garrett tries to wait jensen out but ther eis no luck the silence becomes too much.
“He raped Hannah.”
The room goes completely still. Coach Jensen’s expression changes instantly. “Oh.”
Garrett looks away, jaw tight. “Yeah.”
Jensen sinks slowly into his chair. “Deleny?”
Garrett nods once.
For a long moment neither of them speak.
Then Jensen quietly says, “And you’ve been carrying this around alone?”
Garrett laughs humorlessly. “Not alone.”
“Hannah knows you told me?”
“No. she told me to tell some of the guys tho,”
Coach sighs deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.”
Garrett stares at the wall. “So now you get why I can’t be on the ice with him.”
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I get it.”