“Messages?” I asked. “I’ve been getting them too.”
“They think…” He took a breath, and his voice came out hollow. “They don’t know what to make of this.”
I should have let it go, but his eyes were so shiny my chest ached. “They’re breaking our balls, Pack. They think we’re supposed to hate each other.”
“Duh!” He went quiet for a moment, then said, “I don’t know what I feel.”
“I don’t hate you, Pack.” I put a hand on his arm. “I don’t.”
He pulled away and stared at me, probably trying to decide what to believe. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat. “Good for you. I’m glad we’ll have some time apart.”
He turned toward the window. My throat tightened until it was painful, and I looked away too. What he said shouldn’t have hurt, right? So why did it feel like he’d stabbed me in the gut?
I leaned back in my seat and wondered if I’d only imagined a thaw between us. Since the PR program started, we’d swung between hostility and ease. One minute, we were close enough totouch; the next, we were braced for impact. I didn’t want to hurt him anymore, but he didn’t feel the same.
That was a major problem because I didn’t simplylikePack. Iwantedhim.My desires were working against my best interests. After what he said, I should have been angry, ready to ignore him for good. But instead, I was hurt. I’d sworn a long time ago that I’d never let Packy make me feel that way again. Epic fail. I sighed and stared out my window, trying to imagine being home with my friends.
At the hotel, we barely looked at each other during check-in. The elevator ride was short and quiet except when I asked if he was up for dinner.
He frowned. “Um…”
That was his entire response. When the bellman stopped at his door, I tried again. “So, dinner?”
He tugged his ear and let out a long breath. “I’m wiped, Nix. I need a nap, but I’ll call you.”
Yes, and if I have an ounce of self-respect, I’ll ignore the call.
The silence pressed in as I settled in my room. The next morning, Pack would leave for Buffalo, and I’d fly to New York. We’d be apart for a while, and I had no idea whether “I’ll call you” meant tonight or sometime in the uncertain future.
I collapsed on the bed and tried to sleep, but every time I started to nod off, I jerked awake, thinking, “Pack’s right down the hall, will he text?” After a while, I gave up on napping and checked my messages.
THEO: You in love, Romeo? Looked like you wanted to kiss Paquette after the game.
JACE: Faceoffs or foreplay? #PackoForever.
NOAH: Watched a TikTok called Top 10 Glances That Could Melt Ice. You and Packy were #2. Fix that. #PackoRules.
KAI: Sharing a room now or just hearts?
“Fucking hell!” I tossed my phone aside and stared at the wall. My teammates were the best guys I’d ever known, but they could be vicious. I considered replying with something poetic likeeat shit, but feeding them a reaction would only make things worse.
The room was quiet, and I was almost breathing normally again when my phone dinged. It was a message from one of our old college teammates.
NEILSTER: I always knew you two were fucking. I made you a playlist. It’s “I Will Always Love You” on loop. #PackoBromanceWithoutTheB
“Aaaah!” Yelling once wasn’t enough, so I shouted again and pounded my fist on the bed. Then I punched a pillow, imagining it was Neil’s face, before taking a hot shower.
While I was toweling my hair dry, the phone dinged. I went to see who’d sent another asinine message.
PACKY: Hungry but not feeling a restaurant. Room service and maybe a movie?
I covered my eyes and groaned. Was this a peace offering? Another mood swing? Pack’s unpredictability was enough to give me whiplash.
Fuck me. Whatever it was, I didn’t want to leave things where they’d been in the car.
NICO: Sure. Be there in a few.
PACKY: Burgers okay?
