NHL Imagines

Brandon Bollig

You had known Brandon forever. The two of you grew up next to each other. Your parents were best friends, making the two of you inseparable up until you went to college.

Ever since he was little, he had dreams of NHL. You? You wanted to be anything but a housewife.

You never really had feelings for him until senior year of high school. The two of you were sitting in the back of his truck, sipping on a can of whatever beer you found in your family's fridge. He turned to look at you and smirked and you fell.

Hard.

That summer had consisted of practice and picking up Brandon when he was too drunk to drive home. You got to hear about all the girls he hooked up with, how all the girls just threw themselves at him.

"I'm going to miss you," he admitted one night.

"I know, Brand. I know." You mumbled as you turned down his street.

"No seriously," he slurred, grabbing your knee, "I love you."

You shook it off. He was drunk, who knows if he meant it. He silently got out of your car, not another word from him. Little did you know that would be one of the last times you saw him before college.

Fast forward almost 10 years and you were going through residency at one of the leading teaching programs in Chicago. You planned on being a trauma surgeon.

It had been years since you talked to Brandon, even though the two of you were in the same, large city.

One night, you and the other residents decided to go out for a drink. It was the first night in a long time you didn't have to work. You got all dressed up and went to some of the nicer places in Chicago.

A few drinks in, a familiar face appeared next to you.

"You've been in Chicago all these years but you haven't even tried to contact me once," he leaned up against the bar, not looking at you.

"Some of us have to do a little more than play hockey to earn money." The rum burned your throat and left a bitter taste in your mouth. "Didn't think you want a childhood friend following you around when you're with a model."

"You thought wrong." He smirked, just like he had that one night. The feelings came back all at once.

The next morning you woke up in his bed with a pounding headache. Fuzzy memories of the night before rushed through your mind as you searched for your dress.

"Where are you going?"

"To live my life, Brandon."

"But I want you here." He was now standing in front of you, eyes pleading for you to stay.

"Brandon, you want someone that will be there to cook you breakfast after practice. Be there when you get done with practice. You'll get that from the girl you're constantly with. You won't get that from me." You turned to leave but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you close. He tilted your chin, gently kissing your lips.

"You are the only one I want. Its been that way since we were 16. I don't care if you come home tired, cranky, and late. I love you. I want you."