Chapter 25 Nico
nico
Fresh snow had fallen overnight, and the car slipped a few times on the way to the Hyatt Regency.
The driver, who’d asked for my autograph when he picked me up at Pack’s, handled the slick roads like a pro.
I was thankful because I needed to get back to the hotel before anyone noticed I’d been gone all night.
The last thing I needed was a day of nonstop chirping because they knew I’d been somewhere else.
Somewhere else? Fuck that. They’d know I was with Pack, and I’d never hear the end of it.
Yesterday’s embarrassing kiss, kiss, kiss chant would be mild compared to who fucked who, who fucked who, who fucked who.
Not that I hadn’t enjoyed the hell out of our night, but loving it and wanting my jackass buddies to know were completely different things.
Pack is my boyfriend.
It still seemed unreal. Such amazing luck usually happened to others. But it was true. We’d said it out loud and “sealed the deal,” as Pack had put it.
Before I left, he chewed his lip and glanced around the room. “We are boyfriends, right?” he finally asked. “You haven’t changed your mind?”
His voice was a little shaky, and I understood why.
When someone cheats on you, it rewires your brain.
You start wondering why you weren’t good enough for them, and then you question whether you’re good enough for anyone.
I went through that once, and it took a long time to rebuild my confidence.
I couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be with a spouse.
“Hyatt, right?” the driver asked.
“Yes.” I scanned the front of the hotel as we pulled in.
No team bus. I had cover stories ready in case I ran into someone inside.
If they were in the lobby, I’d say I stepped out to check for the bus.
Upstairs, I’d tell them I went down for breakfast. I’d been playing sports since I was four, and flying under the radar was a survival skill.
The elevator was empty, as was the hallway on the seventh floor. My room was two doors down. I was almost there when another elevator opened.
“Rosco! What’s up, man?”
I turned, then sighed with relief. Kai was alone.
“Not much,” I said. “Grabbed breakfast. You?”
He tilted his head. “Here at the hotel?”
“Yeah, where else?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I was screwed. “I, uh… ate earlier. Then went for a walk.”
He narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. “You went for a walk last night too.”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” His smile sharpened into a grin. “Two walks.”
“Great catching up, bud, but…”
“Don’t mess with me,” he said, lowering his voice. “You spent the night with Paquette.”
I scoffed. “Why would you—”
He rubbed his chin like a detective and leaned so close I could smell his shampoo. “You’ve been for a walk, all right. Walk of shame. Same damn clothes as last night, lips swollen. You look extremely well fucked.”
“Kai—”
“And you’re walking bowlegged, like you’ve still got something up your ass. I know that walk. I’ve had that walk.”
“Kai, you can’t—”
He smacked my arm and burst out laughing, loud enough to echo down the hall. “I’m proud of you. You and Paquette look great together.” He snickered before adding, “And I’ve never seen you look guiltier in my life.”
“Jesus, keep it down.” My head was spinning. I’d known Kai for years, and there was no telling what he might do. So I grabbed his arm and hauled him into my room before the whole team came to investigate. He whooped like we were on a carnival ride.
“Listen.” I kept my voice low and urgent. “This thing with Pack and me is brand new. You can’t tell anyone.”
Still grinning, he tapped my cheek. “Pack. That’s cute. You call him that while he was railing you?”
“Shut. Up.”
“Paquette’s hot, Rosco. Gasoline-on-a-bonfire hot. I’m happy for you. You’ve dated losers long enough.”
I raised both hands and spoke softly. “I know you’re excited, and I love you for it. But I like him so much it hurts, and I don’t want to scare him off. I need this to stay quiet. Will you help me?”
Something changed in his eyes. He straightened and took one slow breath, then another. I matched him until the buzz in the room eased.
Finally, he nodded. “I hear you. You deserve a good man, and I won’t mess that up.”
Relief rushed through me. “Thank you.”
“You know the guys already suspect. The shit on social media keeps it alive, and the looks you and Paquette gave each other yesterday in the loading dock? I thought you were actually going to kiss him.”
“We were freaked out,” I said. “Look, I should change before going downstairs, but…” I put my hands on his arms. “I really appreciate you. You’re a great best friend.”
“I’ve got you, but I’ll still have to chirp you. Otherwise, they’ll get suspicious about that.”
“Fair.”
He bumped my shoulder and flashed a crooked grin. “You still look bowlegged, though.”
I went to the door and held it open. “Out.”
He laughed all the way down the hall.
The boys were unusually quiet when we boarded the bus. I sat beside Theo and took out my tablet to read.
Jace was behind us, and as soon as we hit the highway, he announced, “Listen up, boys. Important bulletin.”
“Proceed,” Theo said, as solemnly as he would at a funeral.
Jace cleared his throat. “From Instagram. User is HockeyHeartsFan. ‘I don’t care what else is happening in the world, hashtag Packo comes first. The way Rossi looks at Paquette? That’s not eye contact. It’s foreplay with extra steps. Fire emoji. Hashtag EnemiesToBoyfriends. Hashtag PackoForever.’”
“Ha ha,” Kai chimed in. “You’d need foreplay with training wheels, Jace.”
“I don’t see you surrounded by puck-chasers after games,” Jace shot back. While everyone laughed, he added, “But tell me HockeyHeartsFan is wrong.”
Theo stood, gave me a look, and started reading. “PowerPlayPrincess2 says: ‘Paquette claims they’re just good friends. Said while his hand is on Rossi’s shoulder and he’s looking at him like a national treasure. If that’s friendship, I need new friends. Hashtag PackoConfirmed.’”
The noise barely died down before Kai spoke again. “BlueLineBard comments: ‘Somewhere a romance novelist is crying because Hashtag Packo already wrote the perfect love story in fights, whispers, F-me eyes, and slow-mo edits. Laugh emoji. Two hockey stick emojis.”
The guys lost it, and when I flipped them off, they laughed louder.
Noah popped up from the seat in front of me.
“Here’s one by WantNickJohnsonsStick. ‘The real sports stat we need is the number of heart attacks caused by the way Nico stared at Paquette after the loss.’ They looped the clip.
Finished the post with, ‘I’m fine. Totally fine.
Where’s my hockey dude? Hashtag SendHelp. Hashtag PackoFeels.’”
It didn’t stop. Kai and Theo paced the aisle like guides giving tours of my humiliation, shoving TikToks in everyone’s faces. By the time we pulled up at the airport’s private terminal, my face hurt from trying not to laugh and failing anyway.
Kai, goddamn traitor that he was, stopped beside me. “Relax. We’re saving the worst ones for the flight to Detroit.”
“Yeah,” Theo said. “Jace started a betting pool on when the first public Packo kiss will happen.”
When the door opened, everyone stood and stretched.
Coach Murphy stood at the front of the bus.
“Good trip, boys.” Then he glanced at his phone and grinned.
“ShipItAndLoveIt says, ‘The Packo chemistry could melt the ice in Alaska, Siberia, and Antarctica. Scientists are calling it Global Warming: Packo Edition. Melting face emoji. Two hearts emoji. Hashtag StickHandleMe. Hashtag PackoForever.’”
He stepped off the bus without another word.
While the guys howled, Kai said, “Congrats, Packo. You’re officially destroying the planet.”
I buried my face in my hands. “Please let the plane’s Wi-Fi be out.”
Theo slung an arm around my shoulders. “Won’t help, lover boy. We saved screenshots.”
I stood, shaking my head and grinning despite myself. If the internet didn’t kill me, my teammates probably would. At least I wouldn’t die unloved.