Chapter 20 Nico
nico
For a long time after the call ended, I stared at the screen. My place was quiet except for the hum of the fridge and faint whir of the ceiling fans. The louder sounds Pack and I had just made still echoed in my mind, and the lingering image of him working his cock had me at half-mast again.
I closed the computer, set it on the bed beside me, and put my hands behind my head.
I was grinning like an idiot, relieved as hell that he’d answered my call.
He’d gone silent as soon as we left Quebec City.
It had only been a day, but my mind was already spiraling, wondering if he’d come to his senses and decided I wasn’t worth the trouble.
Why would he wreck his straight life for a fling with a guy he’d hated for years?
But as soon as his face filled the screen, I relaxed. He’d wanted it as much as I had, the sex and the connection. He must have been confused, yet he still needed me.
Back in college, I liked Pack more than I could get my mind around.
Those feelings were part of how I finally realized I was gay, not bi.
The fight over Kayla hadn’t really been about her; it was about wanting someone I couldn’t have, and seeing him choose the only other person I was close to.
It made me feel disposable, like he was saying “fuck you” because I wanted anyone at all.
Things seemed different now, but were they really?
Pack and I were close again. The old feelings hadn’t simply returned; they’d been waiting.
Deep down, I kept wondering if I was setting myself up for the same heartbreak.
Was I only scratching a naughty itch for him?
Would he leave as soon as something easier came along?
It would hurt all over again, feeling like I didn’t matter.
Fuck me for wanting something real.
I wasn’t sure what we were doing. Hooking up?
Could he actually be interested in me, or had we slipped back into the same codependency we had in college?
Maybe it only felt different because we were older, more experienced, and less inhibited, yet still caught in the same need to use each other to prove something.
Toward the end of the call, we’d teased each other about tomorrow’s game in Buffalo: who should pick the fight, who should go down, and how we’d share the same penalty box. I wondered how much he was joking. Would we really fight? Was there a chance we’d spend the night together after the game?
On the call, we’d jerked off, and then we talked. What we didn’t do was have a genuine conversation to clarify our situation.
I should call him back.
As I reached for my phone, the doorbell buzzed. Twice. I froze, hoping whoever it was would go away, but they didn’t. Instead, someone started knocking so hard it sounded like they were breaking in. I headed for the foyer.
I jerked the door open, ready to unleash hell. But instead of a stranger, four of my teammates were standing there. Noah Parker’s fist was mid-swing and nearly connected with my face. They all burst out laughing when I ducked.
“The fuck are you doing, Noah?” I barked. “Trying to break the door down?”
He showed me his famous lazy grin. “We rang, but you ignored us.”
“You didn’t give me time to answer. What do you want?”
“Just dropping by.” He had all the sincerity of a plastic Ficus.
Kai Mercer, our resident chaos agent, bounced on his toes. “Let us in, Rosco. I’ve gotta piss.”
There was only one possible reason they were there, and I stepped aside because fighting them wouldn’t have looked good. These dumbasses were my friends.
Kai shot down the hall.
“Make yourself at home,” I called after him.
“Bathroom,” he yelled back.
Noah wandered in next, followed by Theo Grant and Jace Castillo. Jace went straight to the floor-to-ceiling window and whistled. “Goddamn, what a view. Feels like I can see the entire skyline.”
“Close,” Theo said, joining him. “Work your ass off, rookie, and maybe you can afford Midtown someday.”
I sat in my favorite chair and let them snoop. Noah sprawled on one end of the sofa opposite me, wearing an expression that said I know things.
Kai came back but detoured into the kitchen. “Got anything to eat, Rosco?”
Before I could answer, the refrigerator opened, then thumped shut a few seconds later. Kai joined us, munching on an apple. He plopped down beside Noah, looked me in the eye, and said, “Spill, Nico.”
“Spill what?” I asked. Just because they’d come over didn’t mean I had to make it easy for them.
Jace and Theo, sensing blood in the water, dropped onto a nearby loveseat.
Theo pinned me with his steely gray eyes. “Are you and Paquette fucking?”
“Don’t try to deny it,” Kai said, examining the apple core like he might eat it.
I blinked. “Why would you even think that?”
Jace snorted. “Hello? Have you been on Instagram in the last few weeks?”
“Or TikTok?” Noah added.
“ESPN? Sportsnet? The Hockey-fucking-Gazette?” Kai asked the questions through a mouthful of apple core.
Noah leaned forward. “We saw the pic where you had a handful of his ass, so make this simple and confess. We’ve talked about this kind of shit for years.”
Jace grinned. “I think you wanted to lick his chest in that locker room interview. I did too.”
They cracked up, and I laughed despite myself. Jace had been treating his rookie year like a citywide dating app.
When the noise died down, I shook my head. “I have nothing to say.”
“That’s not a denial.” Theo rubbed his chin like a professor deep in thought.
“It’s not a confirmation, either,” I said. How could I tell them what was going on with Pack and me when I didn’t know?
Theo’s smug grin told me I’d confessed without meaning to. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll try again on the plane tomorrow.”
“Can’t wait,” I deadpanned.
They exchanged a look, and Kai tried to sound serious. “So, are we allowed to beat them tomorrow, or am I supposed to let half the Wimpy Warriors’ shots through?”
Everyone howled. Kai was being a smartass because he was one of the most competitive players in the league. It would be a cold day in hell when he purposely let a shot through.
“You do that,” I said, “and I’ll make sure you walk from Buffalo to Detroit.”
“You gonna beat Paquette too?” Noah asked. “Wouldn’t be a game without a Rosco and Packy fight.”
“Oh, he’ll beat Paquette.” Jace elbowed Theo for effect. “He’ll beat him off in the bathroom between periods.”
“He’ll do more than that after the game,” Kai said, using his dude-bro voice. “Good thing we’re staying in Buffalo, right, Nico?”
“We’re taking bets on who kisses who at center ice,” Noah said.
Theo smirked. “Fuck that. I’m taking bets on who pitches and who catches.”
I wanted to scream, but somehow held it to a groan. “That’s enough. You’ve crossed into asshole territory.”
“Come on, Rosco,” Kai said. “You love us.”
I rolled my eyes. “Deeply. In controlled doses.”
Jace stretched his arms over his head. “You’re wound tight. Maybe Paquette’ll loosen you up tomorrow.”
Theo sighed. “Christ, Jace. Enough.”
“Just saying.” Jace pointed at me. “We expect fireworks.”
“Go home.” I tried to sound grouchy, but I smiled despite myself.
Noah stood. “Let’s go, boys. I still need to pack for the roadie.”
After Kai asked if I had an extra phone charger and Noah took a water from my fridge “for the road,” they shuffled out.
Theo paused at the door, the humor gone from his voice. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Tired.”
He nodded and followed the others to the elevator.
I straightened the couch cushions and went to the kitchen to sort out dinner.
The visit had left me uneasy. They were my closest friends, and they meant well.
Still, all I could think about was tomorrow.
I wasn’t sure what scared me more, Packy asking me to stay at his place or telling me to go back to the team hotel.