Chapter 15 Packy
packy
After the flight attendant took my empty glass, I pulled my hat lower and tried to sleep.
It didn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Nico.
I’d never forget how he looked this morning—crazy hair, a crease on his cheek, and those gorgeous, irresistible lips.
I’d never had kisses like the ones we’d shared, and thinking about them made my toes curl.
The cabin was freezing, so I pulled the flimsy airline blanket up to my chin, hoping it would make a difference.
Nico. Holy fuck.
We’d been physical with each other in college, but never sexual.
There were always arm punches and friendly shoves.
We spent a lot of time correcting each other’s form in the weight room, and drunken arms over shoulders were weekend regulars.
But this morning was different. Nothing about what happened was friendly or casual. It was desperate.
Why the hell did I want him like that? The word bi had been bouncing around in my head for a while. I thought about Holky and Dog, and Riley and Logan. Half the Warriors had “accidentally” discovered things about themselves over the last few years.
There was nothing wrong with it. My closest friends were gay or bi, but I wasn’t.
Except… what about Nico? Does wanting one man change everything?
I pressed my forehead against the cold window. Outside, the clouds looked like a flat, icy tundra, and I imagined skating across them.
I’d never forget one night in our first year of college when Nico and I took one of our two-in-the-morning walks across campus.
“It’s chilly,” he says. “There’ll be snow on the ground in another week or two.”
I nod like a little kid. “Do you like building snowmen?”
“Oh yeah.” He bumps his shoulder against mine. “I’m the master.”
“The hell you are. Mine will put yours to shame.”
“Fuck off. That’s big talk from someone who’s never seen mine.”
“Bullshit. Between our room and the showers at the rink, I see yours plenty.”
He freezes for a second, then says, “I see yours too. You’re a healthy runner-up.”
“Runner-up?” I scoff. “You should be lucky enough to have one as big as mine.”
He glances down. It’s quick, and he’s grinning when he meets my eyes again. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, for sure.”
So, of course I check him out. “You don’t either.” I hesitate, unsure of how to say it. “Nix?”
“What?”
“I’m straight. You know that, right?”
He laughs so loud it bounces off the nearby fine arts building. “Kind of figured, as loud as you are when we take girls back to the room.” He swallows too hard. “I’m bi, Pack, but don’t worry about me. I’d never do anything to mess up what we have.”
“I know.” I asked a question I’d wondered about often.
“Do you have like… boyfriends?”
“In high school, I was with a guy a few times. Not here, though. At least not yet.”
“Well, I’ve got your back, buddy. If you meet someone and bring him back to the room, I’ll clear out and stand guard.”
He rolls his eyes. “Oh, brother. That’s all I need. You listening in from the hall.”
“Fuck you. I wouldn’t listen.”
“The hell you wouldn’t.”
“Would not.”
“Would too.”
We laugh and play-fight like always. Eventually, it gets so cold that we walk back to the dorm with our arms around each other.
I’m so glad he trusts me with his secret, and that makes me like him more than ever.
I had no doubt I was straight back then, but I couldn’t deny having feelings for Nix I didn’t understand. I knew I loved him, but it was brotherly, not romantic. If I had other thoughts, I assumed that’s how all guys felt sometimes.
After he went to the Condors, Nico came out as gay.
It made sense. He’d always talked big about women, but except for beating the shit out of me over one, his actions never seemed to match his words.
Even when we took girls to our room, he always finished quickly.
I’d hear his uneasy breaths across the dark room and wonder if he’d enjoyed it much.
Still, how did any of that explain what happened earlier? Nico was gay, but I wasn’t. I was just me.
This had to be about proximity and memories. I was tired, and waking up that close to someone I’d never stopped caring about triggered a false reaction.
I like women. I always have. And even if I’m not quite as straight as I thought, I don’t have to act on it.
Unwelcome memories surfaced. Women had always seemed to want more than I did, somehow.
I enjoyed the sex but never wanted the kind of deep relationships they did.
Mia was different. I’d felt a lot with her, which was why I married her.
But we were barely back from our honeymoon when she started pressuring me.
I made good money and bought her a mansion, but that wasn’t enough.
She wanted more endorsements, more events, more “connected” friends.
I was only a vehicle to get her what she wanted.
After she stopped sleeping with me, I quit trying.
I was done chasing women who looked at me like a contract instead of a person.
Get a grip, Paquette. You’re not gay. You don’t change teams mid-season.
Thank God.
Unless you get traded.
Shit.
I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, we were touching down in Buffalo. While we taxied, I pulled out my phone and switched off airplane mode. Three notifications: Harpy, Gabe, and Nico.
I opened Harpy’s first.
HARPY: Thinking about you today. I know how hard it must’ve been to say goodbye to Nico. Don’t worry, though. Reunion sex is the best. #Packo #PackoChemistry101 #MoreThanRivals
That was a hard ignore. Next came Gabe.
GABE: Hi lover boy. Check this out.
He’d attached an Instagram link, and I shouldn’t have clicked it. The video was a slow-motion edit from the locker room in Kansas City. Nico and I were shirtless and laughing, looking at each other like we wanted to throw down right there. And not “throw down” as in fighting.
The caption made me groan:
@FanCamFiend: They’re doomed. That look would melt steel. #PackoUnplugged #EnemiesToLovers #HockeyBrosDoIt
I considered deleting Instagram forever.
Switching back to the messaging app, I read Nico’s text. Then I stared at it, looked away, and looked back.
Still there.
Fuck.
NICO: Miss you, Pack.
The cabin emptied around me. I went home, but a night’s sleep didn’t help. Nothing did.
Morning skate was optional, and I stayed home to recover from the PR trip.
That evening, I showed up for the game ready for a full-scale chirp-storm.
The boys surprised me, though. There were plenty of sideways looks and smug grins, but not a word about Nico.
I made it through changing into my gym clothes, the pregame soccer kick-around, and the team meeting without a single shot fired.
Everything changed when we hit the locker room to change into our game gear. Riley, half-dressed at the stall beside mine, flashed a grin. “You’re glowing, Packy. Kansas City tan, or did Rossi text you?”
I flipped him off.
Holky called out from across the room, “We all watched the locker-room clip. Those hearts flying between you two weren’t regulation.”
“Shut up,” I said. “You’re being an asshole.”
Everyone hooted, but when Criswell walked in to announce the starting lineup, the noise died. I’d never been so glad to see him. After he left, there were no more chirps. We loved to raise hell, but games were sacred.
I finished dressing and tried to lock in for the Miami Sunrise, the league’s biggest bullies.
Something was off, though. My gear didn’t sit right, Riley’s pads smelled worse than usual, and Nico was a nonstop iggity-iggity-iggity in my head.
Every time I blinked, I saw his text: Miss you, Pack.
I still hadn’t answered, jerk that I was, but I would tonight.
The game was a bloodbath from the puck drop.
The refs were against us from the start with their phantom whistles and vague penalties.
The Sunrise played their usual ignore-the-rules-and-bulldoze game, and too many of our guys went to the bin for fighting while Miami’s men, the instigators, remained free.
Through it all, the teams passed the lead back and forth.
Before the third period, Criswell gave a short speech.
“Miami’s men are experts in provocation, so be careful about when and how you respond.
The refs’ calls have been frustrating. I think they’re calling things as they see them, but we’re making it hard for them to understand what’s really happening.
If we stay completely clean, it’ll be easier for them to make the right calls. ”
“Coach was right,” Harpy said when Criswell left. “It feels like the refs are against us, but that’s Miami’s strategy. Let’s give the refs a chance to see things as they are.”
We all cheered because when you’re in the middle of a tough game, and the coach and captain agree on something you don’t want to hear, you’d better think again.
When we took the ice for the third period, the Warriors were up 5–3.
Things started badly when Jeffers, a Miami winger, tripped Harpy while he was setting up for a shot.
Other Sunrise players began shoving our men and trying to goad us into a fight, but we stuck with Criswell’s instructions.
None of Miami’s men went to the box, but this time, neither did we.
A few minutes later, our line was up. Holky was at center with Logan on his right and me on the left. Riley and Brody were backing us up on defense. We were in the Sunrise’s zone, and Holky won the draw, sending the puck to Logan. One of Miami’s D-men closed in, and Logan passed to Riley.
I cut toward the slot, but Zimmer, a Miami winger, lunged and poked the puck free. Turnover.
I pivoted hard, skate edges biting into the ice. My teammates raced to defend our zone, and my legs screamed as I chased Zimmer down the wall, closing in. All I needed was one reach, one lift.