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Icebreaker: Long Distance


Thank you for such lovely feedback on the last bonus chapter! As promised, here is another chapter. Like I said last time, this is totally unedited but we're just going to collectively pretend we don't see the errors, right?

Edit: not every bonus chapter will be smutty lol. I already had this one half done from a while ago... I promise my brain doesn't live in the gutter!


Not to be dramatic, but long distance is the bane of my life.

I was spoiled last year, not lucky, totally and utterly spoiled. No relationship starts with co-habitation but mine did and now I know how good it is to wake up next to Nathan every day. FaceTiming every morning—or afternoon, depending on which part of North America he’s ventured to with the team—isn’t cutting it anymore.

Which is why, on this unusually rainy California day, I’m skipping class to drag my ass to LAX and hop on a flight to Vancouver.

I haven’t told Nate I’m on my way, mainly because he’ll give me a lecture about being distracted in my final year. Apparently, now he’s a real adult, he suddenly likes to give me shit about things he did the entire year we were together.

His tolerance for me being distracted changes depending on totally selfish reasons, like how needy he’s feeling or how bored he is. He practically jizzed in his pants the weekend I forgot to pack my iPad, because in his head, no iPad means no planning, which means more attention for him. He gave me a really sweet speech about how proud he was that I wasn’t freaking out. How my ability to overcome my planner codependency and borderline obsessive need to be organized was inspirational, and he loved me so much.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him I have the same planning app on my phone, and that’s why I wasn’t freaking out. I decided to just take the win and let him praise me.

For some reason, traveling doesn’t give me the same excitement when I’m alone. Maybe I need to bring that up with Dr Andrew in our next session, because the fifteen dollars I just spent on a mediocre fruit plot and yogurt just isn’t hitting the same. Maybe I don’t need to pay for a therapy session when I know the answer is that I just like bossing people around.

The flight to Vancouver from LA is surprisingly pleasant; I blow a kiss to Seattle as we pass over and ignore the weird look I get from the suited up guy beside me. I love Maple Hills but I can’t wait to move back when I graduate, a statement that caused Henry and Russ to both stare at me wide eyed when I casually dropped it into conversation last week.

I’m not sure how I became an accidental big sister to two grown men, but here we are. It feels a lot like when ducklings attach themselves to the first thing they see, but I’m not complaining. I always wanted siblings when I was a kid, so I guess I sort of got my wish.

My phone starts blowing up the second we land and I take it off flight mode, and I regret not buying the in-flight Wi-Fi as soon as I see all my missed messages from Nate.

Nate Hawkins

Can we get a dog when you graduate?

Where are you? You don't have class yet do you?

I miss you come back

Give me attention

Getting groceries

I'm back. That was hard. Are you alive?


Robbie said you're not home. 🧐

Sorry! I was in the library.

My phone was in my bag on dnd.

I miss you too bub.

Thought you'd been kidnapped.

You heading to class?

Yeah, ring you after?

Yep. Love you

Love you too

I might complain about Nathan being so far away to literally anyone who will listen, but I’m proud of us for making it work. We’ve managed to see each other pretty frequently since he moved in the summer, even with our killer schedules we’re doing our best.

I swear my dad gets to see him more than I do; he’s finally conquering his fear of flying, and regularly takes the hour-long flight up to Canada to watch Viper home games. I’m not sure who benefits from it more, but I’m so grateful the two most important people in my life love each other, and Nate finally has a father figure who supports him the way he deserves.

The giddy, love-sick feeling in my stomach starts the second I take a seat in my Uber. Part of me wants to ring him and announce that I’m on my way but I suppress it, because it’s going to be so much better when he finds me waiting for him.

I thought after a year the soft, melty feeling would wear off but if anything, it’s getting worse. I know how lucky I am to have a best friend and boyfriend all rolled into one, but I definitely have to pinch myself sometimes.

The Uber comes to a stop outside Nathan’s building and I might actually combust with excitement. I wait until I’m in the elevator to ring him, watching the numbers count all the way to sixteen as the phone rings in my ear. “You’re alive!” he yells, the distinct sound of a wrapper rustling in the background.

The elevator doors open and I cringe when it dings loudly. Stepping out into the hallway to his door, I silently pray he’s not paying attention. “I’m so sorry. I was studying. Are you at home?”

“I was just worried about you. I’d struggle to get out of tomorrow’s game if I needed to Taken the situation. I love you but I’m no Liam Neeson…” he says through a loud yawn. “Yeah, I’m home. You finished with class now?”

I can hear the sound of the TV in the background, and if I had to guess, I would say he was sprawled out on the couch with a bag of chips that definitely aren’t in his approved meal plan. I’m trying to keep my voice down in case he’s suddenly developed supersonic hearing, but not be too quiet so that he gets suspicious, but all I can hear is my thudding heartbeat.

I’d make a pretty lousy spy because this is super stressful.

“Yeah, the weather sucks today. I wish I’d skipped class and spent the afternoon in bed. Hey, are you in the living room?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Can you check something for me, please?” Oh, shit. Didn’t think this through. “Uhm, can you go into the bedroom and look on my side of the bed, is my watch charger there?”

He groans a little. “Do I have to right now? I’m aching from the gym.”

“Yes, please please please. I don’t want to order another one if you have mine.”

“Urgh, fine.” The second I hear his feet against the floor I get my key ready in the lock. “Okay, there’s nothing here.”

“Check your side. Just in case,” I add as my hand works to open the door as quickly as possible. The adrenaline pumping through my body right now is ridiculous as I sprint as lightly as I can to the couch.

“There’s nothing here, baby,” he sighs, his footsteps getting closer. “I’ll just order you a new one n— oh my, fucking God.” His hand falls from his ear, our call still connected as he stares at me slack-jawed. Ten seconds slowly pass by before he shakes it off, his mouth finally closing. Nathan stays glued to his spot in the doorway between his bedroom and living area, and I stay glued to my spot, staring back at him until he eventually clears his throat to talk.

“You’re here.”

“I’m here.”

“You’re in Vancouver.”

“I’m in Vancouver.”

“I fucking love you,” he practically shouts, finally regaining control of his body and moving toward me. I don’t have time to react or even say I love you too before he’s diving on top of me, pinning me beneath him with the full force of his body. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He launches into a speech but I can hardly tell what he’s saying because his head is buried between my neck and shoulder so snugly, and it’s muffling every word he says.

Sensing he’s probably saying everything I want to say, I take a guess at what I should say back. “I’ve missed you too, bub. You’re surprised, right?”

Nodding, he climbs off, dragging me with him and maneuvering us until I’m straddling his lap. The palms of his hands rest against my face, and he gently pulls my face down to his. God, I’ve missed the feel of his hands on me. My whole body freaking hums as his mouth moves against mine, soft at first, then more urgent as his fingers travel across my skin and his fingers sink into my hair.

His mouth finally breaks from mine. “How long do I have you for?”

I can’t help but wrap my arms around his neck and sink into him, reluctant to discuss the ticking clock of doom. He looks at me expectantly until I can’t ignore his question anymore. “Until the morning. I’m sorry, I wanted to stay for your game but Brady threatened me—in a super intense and detailed way—with death if I don’t turn up tomorrow. My competition is i—”

“Stop, Stas. You don’t need to justify it. You’re here and I’ll take all the time with you I can get,” he says softly, pressing his lips back against mine. “What do you want to do?”

“I literally just want to look at your face.”

“My face?”

“It’s just so pretty.” I rub my hand against his stubbled jaw. “And it’s real. It isn’t on a phone screen.”

He kisses my palm and lets me prod at him a little more. “You seriously didn’t come all this way to just touch and stare at my face…”

“I’m hoping at some point you let me touch and stare at your penis too.” I run my thumb along the bridge of his nose as he snorts loudly. “Kidding! Well, no I’m not, but right now I just want to enjoy having you within touching distance.”

“You hungry? Wanna cook?”

“Will it involve being on you?”

Nathan gives me his best I’m thinking face. “I could wear you like a backpack?”

“How about I sit on your shoulders and tug on your hair like in Ratatouille?”

“If your legs are over my shoulders and you’re tugging on my hair, I don’t wanna be near anything hot unless it’s your p—”

“Okay, okay!” I interrupt quickly. “I suppose I could maybe stand on my own for a little while, but only if I have no other choice.”

“So brave. So noble. Do the military know about you?”

I’m still rolling my eyes when he’s moved us from the couch to the kitchen, and dropped me onto the counter beside a chopping board. I watch him, enjoying the way his muscles flex as he chops his way through vegetables and potatoes, and listen to him talk about hockey stuff I don’t understand, but love anyway.

It’s domestic and it’s wholesome, and it’s everything I needed today.

Nathan is everything I need, always.

When our plates are clear and we’ve run out of gossip, he tugs me back into his lap, and it’s his turn to stare. He brushes a strand of hair from my face, resting his hand on my neck gently. “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re mine. I’m so lucky.”

“Lies won’t get you into my pants, Hawkins.”

“I don’t need to tell lies to get into your pants. I just need to tell you you’re a good girl.”

It’s embarrassing how quickly my body reacts when his hand trails down my body, settling in the curve of my waist with a squeeze. Every roll of my hips coaxes a deep moan from his lips, and the soft cotton of his sweatpants doing absolutely nothing to hide how hard he is.

“I didn’t just come here for sex, I swear,” I say breathlessly, whimpering at the feeling of his tongue and his lips licking and sucking their way down my neck.

“Uhuh,” he chuckles, nipping at my collarbone. “Lying won’t get you into my pants, Allen. Arms up.” He tugs the dress from my body, launching it somewhere behind me, moving on quickly to the clasp of my bra. It feels like he’s everywhere; hand dragging my bra from my chest, mouth closing around an already hard nipple, another hand slipping beneath the thin lace of my panties. “You’re dripping, Anastasia.”

You’d think after a year I’d be used to hearing how good my name sounds when it’s coming from his mouth, but you’d be wrong. He teases me with his finger, just lightly brushing over my clit, adding to the throbbing and doing absolutely nothing to alleviate it. “Nate, please.”

A finger slips inside of me but is gone before I even have a chance to enjoy the relief. He tilts his head to look up at me, an irritatingly smug expression painting his annoyingly beautiful face.

“Did you come all this way so I could get you off?” he muses, pushing two inside of me. My hips move on their own as my head falls to his shoulder, and my fingers sink into his hair. His mouth nibbles at the shell of my ear, his breathing even in contrast to my strained pants.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers, causing goosebumps to spread across my whole body. “Use your words.”

I can’t even concentrate on remembering how to breathe properly while his fingers do some sort of freaking witchcraft that has me squirming and moaning, and he wants me to use words? The familiar, addictive building feeling is practically under my skin, my entire body feels like it’s going to combust.

“You,” I manage to say in what I hope is English. “I want you to make me come.”

“Do you think you deserve that?”

What? “Yes!”

“Why?” This man. I swear to God I’m go— Why is he slowing down? No, no, no. “Why, Stassie?”

“Because I’m yours. Please don’t slow down. I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours.”

He speeds back up and kisses my temple. “Such a clever girl.”

And that’s all it takes for my body to give in to him, spasming and pulsing around his fingers as he drags every last wave of pleasure and every last moan out of me until I’m slumped against his chest.

“I think I need to surprise you more often,” I mumble, head still spinning.

“I’d really like it if you did.”

“You need to stop interrogating me when I’m about to have an orgasm. It’s cruel,” I groan, sitting up to look at him.

“You like it.” His eyes lock with mine, and his lips tug into a smirk as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, sucking shamelessly. “And I like it.”

“I like you.”

For the second time today he snorts. “Even if I was a worm?”

“Especially if you were a worm.”

Nathan’s eyes narrow. “I feel like we need to unpack that.”

“Shhh.” My hands drop to his waistband. “I wanna touch and stare at your penis now.”

Snort count: three.

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