“Then you’re scared,” Kai said. “That doesn’t make it true.”
I nodded, though I wasn’t really convinced.
“Text him,” Kai said. “Tell him you miss him, then give him some space to reply.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Text him again in a few days. Something light. Let him know you’re still around.”
I nodded again.
Kai patted my shoulder. “If your brain starts lying to you again, or if you start thinking you’re easy to walk away from, call me.”
“I might be calling ten times a day.”
“We’re not friends just because we’re the two hottest guys on the team. Friendship means caring. Ten calls a day is nothing. Make it twenty.”
“Okay,” I said.
He pulled away and stood. “Let’s get some air.”
“I don’t feel like going out.”
“Come on, let’s go. I have to meet my mom for dinner later.”
After a short walk, Kai headed home. I went back to my place, curled up on the sofa, and hugged Pack’s hoodie tighter. His scent made me tear up again. Jesus.
“I miss you,” I whispered into the fabric.
Eventually, I got hungry, so I ordered dinner and ate it while the Warriors game was on. They finally won in double overtime.
Remembering Kai’s advice, I picked up my phone and opened the thread with Pack. His last message was still there:Thanks for coming. Talk after playoffs.
I started typing.
NICO: I miss you.
“Fuck!” I muttered, then deleted the message and tried again.
NICO: I’m thinking about you.
Delete.
I considered giving up, but the cursor kept blinking. One more try wouldn’t hurt.
NICO: I miss you and can’t get you out of my mind. Congrats on winning the game. How are you, babe?
Before I could overthink it, I hit send and went to bed. Sleep came in fits. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Pack standing in his doorway, wanting to say something but holding back.
“I can’t lose you again,” I whispered into the dark.
I stared at the ceiling, counting my breaths. Eventually, I drifted off.
The buzz broke the silence. I jerked awake, my heart pounding so hard I gasped. Slowly, I reached for the phone.
39/
packy
