I Love This Series With My Whole Heart - Tumblr Posts

(i know they’re still in college)

BUT IF LIBBY AND QUINN DONT HAVE A CHILD I MIGHT COMBUST

anyways

libby and owen are the two cutest things ever!!

(thank you for something cute before you kill off sam!!)(i needed this)

the idea of jumping head first doesn't sound so bad with you | these michigan summers

series masterlist

FALL '18

"That's a baby."

"Toddler," Libby corrected, turning away from the TV to see a string of hockey players entering the house she'd infiltrated for the better part of the evening. She carefully reached into her pocket for Quinn's house keys that she'd borrowed, holding them out for him to retrieve.

"Why do you have a toddler?" Mike asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"Oh, my God, did you kidnap someone's child?" Dakota whispered.

Libby gave him a strange look. "No, I'm babysitting."

Quinn came up behind the couch, grabbed his keys, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. He couldn't hide his smile as he looked at the toddler curled up on Libby's lap. He wiggled his fingers against Owen's stomach, his grin stretching wider at the childish giggles echoing into the air. "Hey, little guy."

"Uncle Quinny!" Owen's small hands clung onto Quinn's. Libby bit her lip, staving off a smile.

"So, whose kid is he?" Josh asked, plopping onto the spot beside Libby. He leaned closer to get a better look at Owen. "'Sup, little guy."

Owen tilted his head, letting go of Quinn's hand in favor of reaching for Josh, eyes wide with wonder. Libby clasped onto Owen's waist before jutting him toward Josh. "A coworker of mine—Grace," she answered before poking, with her foot, the temporary playpen she'd set up in the living room. "Quinn said it was okay, but y'all don't mind, do you? It's just for another hour or so."

"Who could say no to a little baby?" Jack climbed into the playpen. "Can we play with him?"

"I wouldn't trust any of you with a kid even if my life depended on it," Libby deadpanned.

"Oh, c'mon, we'll stay right here."

Libby rolled her eyes, and Josh let out a sound of protest when she moved Owen away from him. She placed the toddler in the playpen, watching four college hockey players shrink themselves to fit in the cramped space. Her heart swelled and turned to mush all at once at how gentle they were in contrast to the aggressive plays they made on the ice.

She returned to her spot on the plush couch, and Quinn slid his hand to her jaw, gently tilting her head up. Libby met his gaze with rosy cheeks. He lifted the paper bag he was holding that she hadn't noticed earlier. "Got you dinner."

"Thank you," she murmured, but before she could grab it from him, he was already on his way to the kitchen, knowing she wouldn't follow, unwilling to leave Owen out of her sight.

A few minutes later, Quinn returned with a plate full of food and a glass of water. He took over Josh's seat and handed the plate and utensils over, holding onto the water for when she asked for it. Libby thanked him again as he slung his arm against the cushions behind her.

"How was practice?" she asked as they watched the others entertain Owen.

"Good," he said, snatching her fork to feed himself a piece of chicken. He smiled sheepishly when she narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow, though."

"I'll massage you later."

Quinn kissed her shoulder. "You don't have to."

"I don't have to do a lot of things, Squish." She took her fork back. "I do them 'cause I want to."

"I know. Just reminding you so you don't forget."

Libby continued eating, slowing down once her hunger began to feel satiated. As though he was expecting it, Quinn held his hand out, and they traded the glass of water and the plate with some leftover food. Libby swore he sometimes overfilled her plate on purpose, posing as the doting boyfriend when all he wanted was whatever she was eating.

Not a moment later, Owen's cries ripped through the air, and Libby was swift on her feet, slamming the glass of water on the end table.

"Auntie Reese!" Josh called out as the others cowered away. He picked Owen up and handed him off, features twisted with panic.

"She's Auntie Reese?" Dakota asked, pointing at Libby. "This entire time, I was wondering who that was."

Libby bounced Owen against her hip in hopes of soothing his deafening cries. "Southernism at its best. I mean, Reese Witherspoon's first name ain't Reese either."

"Wait, it's not?"

"It's Laura." She laughed at their shocked expressions as she quickly migrated into the kitchen, away from the low hum of the TV and the hushed chatter of the boys. Owen's cries quieted, and Libby scrunched her nose at him. "Yeah, were you just overwhelmed? I'm sorry, little O."

Owen reached for her face, tiny hands smacking against her cheeks, squishing and pulling at them. He beamed at her, showcasing his partially toothless smile with a cooing giggle. "Auntie Reese!"

Quinn walked into the kitchen. "That was quick."

Libby looked up from Owen as Quinn turned the sink faucet on. "Hey, I can do the dishes."

"It's my house, Sunshine."

"I know, but I was the one eatin'," she said. "And I took up, like, half of the house today."

"Don't worry about it." He waved her off.

Libby grabbed one of Owen's toys from the counter before lowering him onto the floor to wander a few feet. She planted herself on the ground beside Quinn, shaking the toy in her hand, quickly capturing the toddler's attention. Owen carried himself over to her with stiff and uncoordinated steps, and when he finally reached her, Libby cheered, smothering him in hugs.

"He's adorable," Quinn said after he turned off the water, glancing down to his side.

"Yeah, he is."

Quinn leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. His gaze was awfully soft, delicate like the petals in Dorothea's gardens, and his heart melted like ice cream on a balmy summer day while watching the way Libby acted with Owen. "It's not fair," he mumbled.

She craned her neck, squinting to block out the warm kitchen lights. "What's not fair?"

"How are you this perfect?" he asked. "You're gorgeous, caring; you get along with my friends, and you're good with kids."

Warmth crept up Libby's neck and face, though her attention was swept away as she caught Owen before he could fall. She kept her gaze on the toddler standing in front of her as she asked, "Do you ever think about havin' kids?"

"With you? Yeah." Quinn didn't miss a beat. "Thought about marrying you too."

Libby's heart sped up at his words, and she brought her bottom lip between her teeth to mask the giddy smile begging to shine through like a diamond under the light.

"Wondered what we'd do for our last name, 'cause I know you wanna keep your mom’s name. Quinn Calloway-Hughes sounds pretty good, don't you think?"

"Calloway-Hughes?" Libby met his gentle gaze, his words catching her off guard.

He hummed his assent. "It'd be a little long on the jersey, but I want your name on there, too."

Libby's bottom lip jutted out, and Quinn couldn't help but chuckle at her expression. He uncrossed his arms to brush his hand over her hair, letting her head lean against his leg. Her attention was diverted when Owen grabbed her face again, vying for someone to play with him.

She scrunched her nose at him before fiddling with one of his toys. "I don't know how many hyphenated names I need, Quinn."

He laughed. "You can keep it at just Calloway if you want, baby. I'm just saying I want your name with mine."

"I want yours, too. It'll just be a mouthful," she pointed out. "Olivia-Reese Calloway-Hughes."

Quinn smiled, though his heart was doing flips inside his chest at the sound of her full name bearing his family's too. Hell, his entire soul seemed to flutter and melt at the thought of spending the rest of his future with her: the moment she'd walk down the aisle all dolled up, and he'd shamelessly start tearing up; the children that were equal parts him and equal parts the love of his life (though he hoped, for everyone's sake, they were more Libby than him); the dog (because Libby wouldn't marry him unless they had one) running around the backyard of their house that boasted photos from throughout their relationship.

It would all be perfect.

"I do have one condition, though."

Libby jokingly rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"If our kid has a tournament in Toronto, you're taking them down there."

"Up, Quinn."

He furrowed his eyebrows.

Libby laughed. "Canada's up there."

Quinn's expression morphed with feigned annoyance. "I don't wanna hear it."

Another laugh slipped past her lips. "You'd really send me to the tundra alone?"

"No, Mom would go with you." He grinned innocently, sliding down the counter to sit beside her.

"Oh, of course," Libby scoffed. "And that's assuming our kid plays hockey. What if they wanted to play soccer like their momma?"

"They could," he said, leaning his head on Libby's shoulder.

"But?"

A chuckle rumbled from his chest as he canted his head ever so slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief as he whispered with finality, "They're playing hockey."

Libby hummed with every ounce of dryness she could seep into her tone and patted his thigh. "Sure, darlin'."

Quinn's eyes fluttered close at the nickname, something she only used teasingly, yet the way it rolled off her tongue, doused in her sweet southern accent she’d stopped hiding as much, had him falling to his knees. He was jolted out of his thoughts when Owen crawled—practically jumped—onto his lap. He sat up straight and plastered on a smile.

"Can you watch him for a minute?" Libby asked, and Quinn nodded before she went to use the bathroom. She returned to Quinn playing with a giggling Owen, both so entranced they hadn't noticed her presence until she sat back down on the floor.

Quinn looked at her with his bottom lip jutting out. "Do I have to give him back?"

Libby chuckled. "No, not for now."

A knock reverberated through the house, and Mike shouted that he was getting it. Abby's voice then filled the entrance of the house—loud and sweet in every way that embodied the girl Libby had met early into her freshman year.

"Where's my girl?" Abby skipped into the kitchen, eyes landing on the couple on the floor.

"Yeah, just pretend I don't exist!" Mike called after her.

Libby opened her arms, making grabby hands at Abby. "C'mere!"

Abby practically flew into Libby's arms.

Quinn and Mike swapped glances, acceptance spilling into their sighs that neither of them would get the attention they wanted from their girlfriends. At least for the next few minutes.

"Grace's son?" Abby asked Libby when Owen whined out, crying for attention from the new presence.

Libby nodded just as the doorbell rang. She looked at Quinn with her eyebrows drawn together. "When'd you fix the doorbell?"

Quinn shrugged.

Mike returned to the door, and faint voices weaved into the air until he called for Libby. Confusion hung from her face as Abby climbed off her. She scooped Owen into her arms before walking toward the door, only to see a brunette woman that was a few years older than her.

"Hey, Reese." Grace tightly wrapped her arms around herself as her breath condensed against the chilly atmosphere.

"Momma!" Owen shouted, writhing in Libby's arms to get to Grace.

"What're you doin' here?" Libby widened the door to let Grace in and away from the cold before handing Owen to her. She closed the door, keeping the heat in the house. "I said I'd bring Owen back to yours."

"Date didn't work out, and I was in the area. Figured it'd be easier for the both of us that way," said Grace, mindlessly entertaining her son.

Libby frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Grace waved her off. "He didn't like that I 'had a child out of a wedlock.'"

"He said that?"

Grace hummed her assent.

"There's always Kevin from the store down the road," Libby offered.

Grace shook her head with a laugh. "No, I think I'm done for the rest of the year."

Libby led Grace further into the house, with Mike trailing them until the living room came into view. Grace clamped her hand over her mouth to hide her amusement when she noticed the overgrown men still cooped up in her son's playpen, conversing with each other and passing the toys around like it was the most natural circumstance to find themselves in.

"Don't be fooled," Libby muttered to Grace. "They're gentle giants. Don't tell 'em I said that, though."

Grace giggled, lowering her hand. "Oh, no, I thought it was cute."

At the sound of their footsteps reverberating against the floorboards, Jack, Josh, and Dakota averted their attention. Their smiles instantly dropped when Libby introduced Grace, and they scrambled to get out of the playpen, tripping over each other.

With the help of the boys and Abby, they folded away the playpen and cleaned up the toys strewn across the floor. Libby walked outside to transfer the car seat from her car back to Grace's, braving the cold air in nothing but a sweater, possibly the thinnest leggings she owned, and a pair of too-large slides over her sock-covered feet.

"Thank you so much for doin' this, Reese," said Grace, reaching for her wallet. "I know it was super last-minute, and—"

Libby shook her head, pushing Grace's hand away. "Don't even think about it. You know I love lookin' after Owen."

"Seriously, it's the least I can do. You're still in college; you need the money more than I do, especially considering who our boss is."

"Keep it. Raisin' a child's not cheap."

Grace sighed, relenting. "I seriously don't know what I'd do without you, Reese."

"Hey, us Tennessee girls have to stick together." Libby winked as Grace climbed into the driver's seat. "Drive safe, alright?"

"I'll text you when I get home."

With that, Grace pulled out of the driveway, and Libby jogged back into the house with her toes clinging desperately onto the slides she wasn't sure belonged to which boy. The moment she crossed the threshold, Quinn was wrapping a blanket around her.

Her nose crinkled as she smiled at him, cheeks windbitten and red. "You're adorable, you know that?" she asked him as his arms snaked around her shoulders.

Quinn rolled his eyes playfully. "Just don't want you freezing since you can barely make it through the night when it's summer."

Libby pouted. "I've gotten better."

"Yeah?" he teased, eyes sparkling. "Is that why half of my sweaters are in your closet?"

"They're comfy," she mumbled.

"Alright, lovebirds!" Josh shouted from the living room. "Hurry up and get back here. It's the girls' turn to pick the movie."

"When did we agree on that?" Quinn yelled back, waddling the two of them further into the house.

"We didn't," said Josh, voice shaky and uncertain. "We were threatened."

Libby looked at Abby, who winked.