Chapter 9 Packy
packy
The damn house was too big for one person. When I bought it, Mia and I talked about kids and how great it would be to fill the extra bedrooms with cribs and noise. Now the rooms sat empty, and every footstep on the hardwood floors was a reminder of how the marriage had failed.
It had been several days since I got home from Houston, and I still hadn’t unpacked my suitcase.
It sat in the corner of the bedroom, half-open, clothes spilling out like I might need to leave again at any moment.
If I waited long enough, I would. Our next trip was coming up, this time to Denver and Kansas City.
God, I didn’t need any more airports or hotels, and I certainly didn’t need more of Nico fucking Rossi.
I should’ve been dreading it, right? That would be the usual response to being forced to spend time with someone I hated. But the thought of seeing him again felt a lot like anticipation, which made no goddamn sense.
Hungry, I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. There was beer, some three-day-old Thai leftovers, and a nearly empty carton of eggs. Mia used to make sure we had plenty of food on hand, but now I only bought groceries when I had to.
The Thai food went in the trash, and I decided on scrambled eggs for dinner. But when I checked the carton, they’d expired last month. Fuck me. The eggs went in the garbage too. I opened a beer and stood at the kitchen island, staring into space.
“Get it together, Paquette,” I muttered, banging a fist on the island. “Nico’s still the guy who tried to turn everyone against you.”
Saying it out loud didn’t make me feel any better. I drained my beer and grabbed another before going to the TV room. The remote was lost somewhere under the couch cushions, but I didn’t feel like searching for it. Instead, I sat in the dark and let my mind wander.
The thoughts I’d been dodging came on strong.
I could still see him leaning over his stick, grinning at me like we were nineteen again.
Sweat trickled down his neck, and trash talk was rolling off his tongue like he’d invented it.
I could even smell his stupid cologne, the same one he’d worn in college.
His cologne? Jesus Christ. Now I’m thinking about how a man smells? What the hell is wrong with me?
I’d dreaded morning skate, but the hard work, cold air, and physical effort shut my brain up for a while.
My teammates were happy, chirping about everything from fantasy lineups to bad dates.
I was glad none of them brought up Nico, but as soon as I thought about that, Harpy skated over during a water break.
“Well?” He put on the grin that meant he was about to be annoying. “How was the trip?”
“Fine.”
“Only fine?”
“It was work.”
“Uh-huh.” He squirted water into his mouth and smiled at me over the bottle. “Luca and I saw some clips online.”
I shrugged. “Everyone’s seen those. They’re everywhere.”
“Looked like you were enjoying yourself.”
“It was work. I smiled because they told me to.”
Riley glided over, eyes wide and wearing a crooked smile. “Yeah? You smile like that at work, I’d be worried you were sweet on Harpy.”
I gritted my teeth so hard they ached. “Can we not do this?”
“Do what?” Riley asked. “We’re just making conversation.”
“For real,” Harpy said. “Why are you so sensitive?”
“You’re busting my balls.”
Holky and Dog, who’d been nearby, joined us. Holky backhanded my arm. “Seriously, buddy. After all the things you’ve said about Rossi, you go on a trip with him and suddenly become best friends? What happened?”
I slammed my water bottle down. “For fuck’s sake, we called a truce for the cameras, and that’s all.”
Harpy and Riley shared a dubious look.
“What?” I snapped.
Dog slapped my hip pads. “You seem different since you got back. Wound up.”
“I’m always wound up.”
“Not like this,” Harpy said. “Look, we’re joking around, but if the Rossi stuff is getting to you, you can talk to me. That’s what captains are for.”
His devil’s horns had disappeared, replaced by a golden halo. These guys were my best friends, and they didn’t deserve me being an asshole because I couldn’t figure out my own head.
“I’m fine.” I tried to sound like I meant it. “Really. It’s weird, spending time with someone I’ve hated for my entire adult life. My brain doesn’t know what to do with it.”
Riley nodded. “Makes sense. It’s a long time to hold on to something.”
Criswell announced the break was over and called for targeted shooting drills. The boys’ words stuck with me through the rest of practice, but there was something more: underneath the chirps was a reminder they had my back.
I needed to get my shit together. I’d spent years being furious at Nico, and I’d never once stopped to ask if I was wrong. Now I didn’t know what to think.