I didn’t text the next morning, and I didn’t call. Instead, I packed a change of clothes, hailed a cab to LaGuardia, and got on the next flight to Buffalo. The plane landed shortly before ten. Afterdowning some coffee, I rented a car and plugged Pack’s address into the GPS.
The streets went by in a blur as I thought about how he might react to my visit. I didn’t practice speeches or arguments because there was nothing to plan. This wasn’t about winning a debate; it was about being honest. Either he wanted what I did, or he didn’t. I had to know.
My heart raced as I climbed the steps to his porch and rang the bell. Nothing. I took slow breaths while I waited, then rang again. While sweat gathered under my collar, I wrung my hands. Finally, I knocked.
Has he fucking left after saying he’d be here?
The door opened, revealing Pack in a hoodie and sweatpants, with disastrous hair and a pillow crease etched into his cheek. His eyes drooped with exhaustion.
“You’re here,” he said. No smile, no follow-up.
“I didn’t want to talk on the damn phone again,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “Needed to see you in person. Touch you.”
A smile tugged at his lips as he stepped back. “I’m glad you came,” he said. “I’m a mess from the playoffs, but… God, I’m sorry you guys lost.”
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight and burying his face against my shoulder. His body was solid and familiar, and he smelled like sleep.
“Missed you,” I whispered into his hair, fighting the urge to push him against the wall and fuck some sense into both of us.
“I know,” he said softly. “I missed you too.”
He lifted his head and brushed his mouth against mine, more like a question than a kiss. When I slid my hand into his hair and deepened the kiss, he responded with the passion I’d missed so much. Moaning softly, he pulled me closer and pressed his chest against mine. My knees nearly buckled.
I was so relieved. He needed me as much as I did him.
We only pulled apart to catch our breath. He rested his forehead against mine, then kissed me again. This time it was softer. I tried to hold on to every detail, terrified this might be the last time we’d share this. In my life, I’d already learned that hot kisses and missing someone didn’t always mean everything would be okay.
When he drew away, his voice was rough. “Come on. Let’s go sit down.”
37/
packy
I ledhim down the hall, wondering why he’d come. His kiss still burned on my lips, reminding me why I’d spent the last two weeks trying not to think about him. I needed to focus on the playoffs before I could think about the future, but had I waited too long? Had he given up and decided I wasn’t worth it? I was scared that’s what he was about to say.
I love you. What are we going to do?
The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I held back. Once I started, I knew I wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t let that happen because saying something without thinking it through could make things worse.Whyhad he brought up the move in the first place? If I went to New York without a choice, I’d be resentful, and it wouldn’t end well. And if he gave me an ultimatum like that, there’d be nothing left to move for.
I hadn’t found the best way to talk about this. The Warriors were playing our best hockey all season, and we had a real shot at the Laurentian. I couldn’t fuck it up for everybody.
At least that was my excuse for putting it off. But if things fell apart with Nix, it would break me. The last few years had been one blow after another. I thought I’d finally found my balance when Nix and I got together, but now that might be slippingaway. If I had to fall apart, it would be better after the playoffs than now.
The TV room was too quiet and still. Nix hovered behind me, and I forced a smile before turning to face him. His eyes were wide, searching my face for something I wasn’t ready to say. Was he hoping I’d talk first?
I wondered again if he’d had enough of waiting. Had he come to end things? The thought hit like a body check, and my vision blurred at the edges. Surely, I was overthinking. He wouldn’t have come to Buffalo to break my heart.
But have I already broken his? Has my distance made him think I don’t want him anymore?
I pointed to the sofa. He sat at one end, and I took the other. The space between us felt huge. Yet if I moved closer, I’d pull him into my arms, and all my feelings would come rushing out.
Nix shifted, folding his long legs at an awkward angle. When his knee touched mine, my body reacted instantly. I placed my hand on top of his.
His breath caught as his eyes went wide. Surprise? Disappointment?
I panicked and pulled my hand back.
He furrowed his brow, sending another unclear signal. What the hell was going on?
