But he’s acting like the man who watched my door.
“You gonna eat that?” Genny asks from across the table, not looking up from her book.
I unwrap the candy. The foil crinkles loudly.
“He’s trying,” she notes softly.
“I know.”
“He’s wearing the suit, but he bought the candy.” She finally looks up. “The suit is for them. The candy is for you. You have to decide which one matters more.”
I pop the candy into my mouth. It’s sour, then sweet.
It doesn’t fix the fear. But it quiets the noise.
By Friday evening, the team is gone. They’re two states away.
I walk my usual route back to the dorm. Shoulders tight. Hand in my pocket.
I check over my shoulder more than once. Half hoping I won’t see him. Half terrified I will.
No truck idling at the curb. No shadow in the dead streetlight.
He kept his word. He stopped stalking. He stopped lurking.
There’s a weird, hollow ache in my chest when I reach my dorm without incident. I tell myself that’s good. That this is what I wanted. Distance. Space.
Inside, the lobby is bright and ugly. I swipe my card, climb the stairs, and let myself into my room. The door clicks shut behind me with a soft, familiar sound.
I stand there for a second, forehead pressed to the wood.
Protection or obsession?
Peppermint tea on my desk. Candy in my palm. His hands on my waist in the players' box, askingCan I?before he kissed me.
And then the silence.
He gave me the space I asked for. He hasn’t texted. He hasn’t called. He hasn't pushed.
He just… waited.
He’s trying to be the version of himself that doesn’t scare me, even if it kills him to stay away.
I pull my phone out.
The thread is open. The last message is from Saturday night.
Declan:You in?
Me:In.
Since then, nothing.
He’s at the arena now. Pre-game warmups. He’ll be taping his stick. Putting on the mask. Shutting out the noise.
I stare at the blank text box until my eyes blur.
If I don’t send it, he stays away. That’s the deal.
