“I don’t know. You’re not smiling like usual.”
“Can’t smile all the time.”
Nico pulls up his pants, wiggling into them. I take his wrist and gently pull him into my lap.
“What’s wrong?”
He holds my gaze, chewing his bottom lip. I’m not sure he’s going to tell me. Why would he? He has no reason to talk to me about his problems, but I wish he would.
“Nico,” I say gently, running my hands up his smooth back. “What’s going on?”
“It’s just hitting me that we only have a few days left.”
I nod, understanding that all too well.
“Yeah, I get that,” I say.
“Are you bothered by it?” he asks cautiously. He sounds so unsure and I don’t like that. He’s sure about everything, all the time.
“Of course I am,” I say firmly. “I’m not afraid to admit I’m going to miss you… miss this.”
He nods, sighing, and leans in to hug me. We stay like that until I have no time left.
He goes, leaving behind a melancholic feeling as I shower and get ready to head down to meet Connor for breakfast.
He’s grinning as I reach the table with my plate of food.
“Well, you had a good night then?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, sitting down and forcing a smile.
“Oh no. What’s wrong?” he asks. “Is he mad I saw him?”
“Do you even know who you saw?” I ask.
“Not at first, but I’ve put two and two together.”
“He’s not mad,” I say. “He said he doesn’t care.”
“Do you?” he asks carefully.
“No. Not at all. Why would I?”
He shrugs, hunching his shoulders slightly as he digs into his food. “Being gay and a hockey player doesn’t really go together.”
“I don’t give a fuck about what goes together,” I say more harshly than needed. “Sorry.”
I don’t mean to snap at him, but I’m tired of the stereotypes, and Nico bringing up us parting ways soon and seeing how upset he is about it is bothering me.
I’ve been upset about it; I can handle that.
Knowing he’s upset? I don’t fucking like it.
But what can I do about it? Nothing.
I live in the US, all the way in Colorado. Almost two thousand miles away from him, in Montreal—another country. Our schedules are crazy busy with me traveling all over, and honestly, I don’t know what he does during the year because I’ve never really looked into that. Do they have competitions throughout the year? Does he just practice all the time? He must do something that brings in money, right? He mentioned having a busy schedule. Tours and stuff, but I don’t know how aggressive they are.
“Hey, you good?” Connor asks.
