AVERY
Peyton wasn’t in bed when I opened my eyes the next morning. For a second, I was worried, but the sound of the shower running calmed me back down. He did have to go to the morning skate, after all, and that wasn’t a practice he could get away with bailing on. I was just amazed I’d slept through his alarm; he used the same alarm tone I did, so it should’ve woken me up too.
Huh. Weird.
Then again, I’d slept pretty damn hard. I hadn’t noticed Peyton getting up, either, so… whatever. I couldn’t complain after a night like that.
But a minute or so after the shower stopped, the alarmdidgo off.
My head snapped toward the beeping phone. What the hell? Maybe he’d forgotten to turn off his second and third alarms?
I grabbed the phone to shut it off. On the screen:
Morning skate Alarm 1
I couldn’t unlock his phone to see if his second alarmswere set, but I could at least shut off this one. If the others went off, well, I’d deal with those.
After I’d put his silenced phone on the nightstand again, I sat up and peered at the closed bathroom door. While I couldn’t quite explain the knot of worry forming in my gut, I couldn’t ignore it either. Peyton always needed two or three alarms before he got up.
Yesterday had been perfect. Why was I so sure today was about to be very, very different?
I was pulling on some sweats when he came out of the bathroom. He, too, had on sweats and a T-shirt, which didn’t help me unwind that knot of worry. At most, he’d wear a towel around his waist on the way out of the bathroom, and that was only when he hadn’t completely dried off. Otherwise, he strolled around naked just like I did.
Something was up.
It could wait until we had some coffee, though.
Coward.
Yeah, probably.
But I did need the caffeine to clear my head, so whatever. In silence, we went downstairs, and I made some coffee while Peyton pulled out a couple of slices of leftover pizza.
“Breakfast of champions?” I asked, testing the water.
He laughed, but it sounded forced.
“Come on.” I tipped my head toward the living room. “Let’s sit. My hip is still annoyed about yesterday.”
The nod to yesterday’s marathon sexcapade should’ve prompted a chuckle with some actual feeling. Or at least a little grin.
Nothing.
But he did join me in the living room, and silence hung between us as we drank our coffee and he ate his pizza. Ikind of wanted to get him talking now, but he did have to skate, which meant he needed to eat. This could wait a few minutes, if only so he didn’t faceplant on the ice later.
When he’d finished, he took his dishes into the kitchen. He put his plate in the dishwasher, then topped off his coffee. I was relieved that he returned to the living room, but unsettled by the ongoing silence, not to mention how he struggled to even look in my direction.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. And he had to leave soon, so we either did this now, or it had to wait until after tonight’s game.
“Hey,” I said tentatively. “You’re kind of on another planet. What’s going on?”
He chewed his lip and stared into his coffee.
“Did I do something wrong?”
His head snapped toward me and he seemed poised to tell me I hadn’t, but that second of hesitation didn’t leave much to the imagination.
My stomach wound around itself. “What did I do?”
