Twenty One

                                    

                                          
"That's the last of it," Faye smiles, both hands on her hips as she looks at the new apartment full of her quirky furniture, green couch and all. She turns to Jack. "Thanks for hauling all my furniture up the stairs."
Nico sighs, coming out from the kitchen with a glass of icy water that Faye had gotten for him a minute ago. Faye keeps staring at him like he's a God, I can't blame her, even though Nico and I haven't spoken since our awkward end to what would have been a nice dare, he's still just as Disney-Prince worthy as the last time I saw him. 
"Could have at least done it shirtless," she huffs, nudging my shoulder. 
"I absolutely agree," I told her, smirking at Jack. "Why are shirts still on?"
"You tell me," he winked, gesturing down to my own shirt. 
My cheeks burned a horrendous shade of pink as I turned away from him, though they landed somewhere much worse. Nico. Faye was still staring at him, but he was staring at me. 
"Can I talk to you for a sec?" He blurted, probably immediately regretting it with the way Jack was suddenly glaring at him. His eyes flickered between everyone in the room, he shifts on his feet. "Alone."
I blink twice. "Uh, sure, Nico."
He sighs, but I'm not sure if it's a relieved sigh or something else. Regardless, I follow him to the next room, half thinking he's going to just ream me out for ever even entertaining him. 
I'm in my own head, worrying about Nico and Jack and Faye and having to go to court when Nico stops abruptly and I crash into his back. He turns over his shoulder, smirking at me. 
I clear my throat, taking a step back. "What did you want to speak to me about?"
He does the same, avoiding my eyes. "Right."
He's playing with his fingers in a way I recognise as a nervous habit. He's nervous. Knowing this does absolutely nothing to settle my heart. I don't know what comes over me, but suddenly I'm filled with an overwhelming amount of guilt for the way I treated Nico, without even meaning to. I knew how I felt for Jack, how I've always felt. I should have never gone on the date with him, lead him on. 
I guess he feels somewhat the same, because at the same exact time we both blurt. "I'm sorry."
There is a pause, neither of us knowing where to go from here or what to say. He's staring at me with wide-doe eyes, and I'm doing the same, staring up at him through my lashes, before I'm the one to crack, a tiny smile fluttering to my lips. He follows my actions, a smile of his own breaking out on his lips. It's glorious. 
I'm sure, in another life I could maybe love Nico. The thought makes me feel sick. No. I take it back. I could never. In every life, every world, every universe, I'd find Jack and I'd love him. No questions. 
"Are we good?" He asks, his voice breathy and light, like he's trying to hold back an even bigger smile. 
I nod enthusiastically, smiling at him. "I think we are."
"Good," he sighs, this time it's relief. "I was getting sick of pretending I didn't like you. You're a cool chick, Lyla."
"Sorry I couldn't be the one for you," I admitted, chewing on my bottom lip. 
He shrugs, a causal gesture that shows just how laid back he really is. "You're the one for Jack, though, and that's pretty fucking awesome."
And suddenly I'm blushing, hard. 
He bumps his shoulder against mine. "And hey, maybe you could set me up with Faye?"
My eyes go wide. "Faye is crazy, she'll have you whipped."
Nico shrugs again, this time, with a smirk. "Sounds just my speed."
Sending him a tiny lopsided grin of my own, I nod back in the direction of the lounge room. "Let's go back before Jack totally loses his shit."
"Now who's whipped?"
I scoff. "At least I admit it."
"Hey," he says, grabbing my wrist. He looks at me, like, really looks at me. My heart near stops. He's not going to kiss me like Luke did, right? He smiles, soft and sweet. "I'm really happy for you and Jack."
Oh.
"Thanks," I whisper, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. 
"I better be the fucking maid of honour at the wedding," he declares, popping a hip. 
I tip my head back, laughing. "Good luck getting through Stella Fuentes."
"Ste—who?"
***
Faye and I are screaming, there's less than a minute left of the third and both teams are tied 2-2. Jack scoops up the puck, weaving through the defence like it was as easy as walking. 
I'm up off my seat, so is the rest of the stadium, all screaming. I'm down my the glass, near the tunnel like a normal person tonight. Faye wanted to watch in the crowd like a fan and actually buy tickets, whatever works I say.
Ten seconds. 
He passes to Nico, who passes back to Jack.
Three seconds.
I barely see the puck as it flies into the goal, whacking the net at record speed. The horn sounds and I'm screaming again, jumping around with Faye in my Hughes jersey, her in her brand her captains jersey. Safe to say she's got a crush. 
The devils pile on Jack, all going ballistic over the win. I'm suddenly desperate to get to him, to jump over the side and into the tunnel and run to him, but I can't, so I don't. 
Instead, I wait with my hands over my heart, my eyes on his. He turns to the crowd, searching the place I told him I'd be. His eyes find mind and my heart beats out of my chest. I know the arena is loud, but my heartbeat sounds louder, and it feels again like Jack and I are the only people who exist. 
He skates to me, so fast it surprises me, but I don't know how, because he's always been fast. Since forever. People are screaming for him, trying to reach out the sides to touch him, high-five him, anything. Everyone is chanting his name, but his eyes stay focused, determined. 
He reaches me, I'm low enough to the ground that if I bend over—with I do—that he can get his hands under my arms, lift me up over the railing, and pull me down into the tunnel with him. 
Which is exactly what he does. 
His fingers find their way into my hair, one hand cupping the back of my neck, the other flat against my cheek, brushing my jaw and ear and temples. I'm looking up at him and he's looking down at me and his eyes are so blue that I find myself swimming in them. He's sweaty, really sweaty, his skin shimmering in the stadium lights. 
Everyone is cheering him on, and I think they're screaming kiss, but I can't hear them, all I can hear is my heart beat and his breathing and the breathless words he speaks to me. 
"Lyla Jones," he says, words only for me. "I love you."
I smile, but and cheesy and stupidly in love, and my lips are on his, my own arms being thrown around his neck as his find their way to my waist, pulling me as close as he can. 
The kiss doesn't last long, a few seconds, before he's being ripped from me and pulled to an interview. I'm sad for the loss of contact, but an arm is thrown around my shoulders, Nico's arm, and I'm smiling again. I lean into him, right as he ruffles my hair.
I'm about to congratulate him on his win tonight, and that awesome assist, when Jack starts speaking in a microphone that can be heard over the whole arena, the various screens above the ice showing his face.
"I'm dedicating that goal to Lyla Jones," he says, breathlessly, his smile contagious. "For those of you who don't know, Lyla and I are high school sweethearts. She's my baby girl and I'm going to marry her someday."
I turn to Faye, eyes wide as my mouth drops and a tiny squeak comes out. 
If the world didn't know who I was before, now they do.