Hockey Isn't Life | Jack Hughes

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#86, Center for the New Jersey Devils
Word Count: 3.2 K

"Babyyyyyyy."

I grin, spinning my chair around to see Jack. He had an early practice this morning, so I didn't get to see him before he left. "Hey, handsome." I greet and he leans down to kiss me. I squeak when he picks me up effortlessly and starts carrying me to our room. "Jack, put me down. I'm working." I tell him, but he doesn't listen, just continues to carry me to our room.

He tosses me onto the bed—gently, but still—and rips his shirt off before lying on the bed on his stomach, groaning.

"Jack? Are you okay?" I ask, running my hand over his shoulders lightly. He's obviously in pain, if all the whining is any indication. And I'm sure picking me up didn't help, but he's a stubborn man.

"I'm so sore. After the game last night and practice this morning, all I wanna do is cuddle with you." He tells me, rolling over and giving me his puppy dog eyes. "Will you cuddle me? Please?"

I sigh. "What's hurting?" I hate it when he's in pain. I mean, as a professional hockey player, it's pretty much guaranteed, but it doesn't make it any easier. I'll do anything to ease the pain for him.

"My shoulders, pretty much. And my thighs some, but that's pretty normal." He tells me.

"Roll over." I tell him, and he does as told. I work for the Devils as the team's massage therapist—which is how Jack and I met—so whenever Jack is any pain, I try to use my knowledge to minimize it for him as much as possible. Today is my one day of the week off, but it doesn't matter because Jack needs my help.

I use my thumbs to find the knots in his shoulders, and use the lightest amount of pressure to relieve them. It isn't long before Jack's relaxed on the bed, so still I'm sure he either asleep or close to it.

When I'm done with his shoulders, I do the same for his thighs, and I hear several happy sighs as I do. Once I'm done, he rolls back over, happy but tired smile lighting up his face. "I love you, you amazing woman." He tells me, making me laugh.

"And I love you, Mr. Hughes. How are those bruises?" I lightly run my fingers over a couple bruises littering his ribs from last night's game. They don't look too bad, but that doesn't mean they don't feel it.

"Not bothering me. Now, can I get my snuggles that you promised me?" He sticks his bottom lip out for dramatic effect. I roll my eyes, but move so I'm sitting up against the headboard, and he immediately moves to lay his head on my stomach, one arm under my back and the other across my hips. He sighs contentedly, and I smile down at him. I don't know why, but he just loves laying his head on my stomach.

"Play with my hair?" He whispers, opening his eyes just enough to peek up at me through them. I smile, but oblige, knowing he loves the feeling of someone playing with his hair. It's still slightly damp from the shower he took after practice, but it doesn't bother me. Not at all.

"You're more quiet than usual." I observe. "Is everything okay?"

He nods. "Of course it is. I'm laying with my favorite girl in the world." He leans up slightly to meet me halfway for a kiss, and I'm smiling the entire time. He makes an annoyed noise. "Stop smiling. I want a kiss." He whines, and I laugh but kiss him again, this time concentrating my complete attention on connecting our lips.

- - - - -

"Hey!" I hug my sister tightly. It's been a few weeks since I've seen her, so I'm glad we're getting this opportunity to see each other. "How have you been?" I ask curiously.

"Jack!" My four-year-old nephew, Jase, yells. Before I know it, Jack has appeared out of nowhere, scooped him up and is spinning him around, making the boy laugh like an idiot. Jack finally stops, knowing from personal experience that if Jase is spun too many times, he'll get sick. He sets the boy on his hip, smiling down at him and making funny faces to make him laugh. I smile at the sight. Jack is the best with kids.

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