PACKY: I’ll take that as a compliment. Gotta go. See you in five days.
NICO: Until then.
I couldn’t shove my phone into my pocket fast enough.
“What’s with the blushing?” Riley asked.
Harpy leaned in. “Should we invite him to the next game?”
“The fuck are you talking about? That was my brother.”
“You always grin when you text your brother?” Riley asked.
Holky, sitting across the table, lifted his glass. “To Packo. May your next PR event include a kiss cam.”
The guys howled.
“We should get you a Packo locker plaque,” Gabe said. “Something like, ‘Reserved for media darlings.’”
I forced a laugh. “Keep talking, and I’ll pay Criswell to make you all skate suicides the next time I’m gone.”
They wisely let it go.
Five minutes later, Dog called out, “What’re you sitting here for, Packy? You’re single. You should be out there—” He paused and snapped his fingers with a big flourish. “I forgot. You’re saving yourself for the Condor, right?”
The cackles made my stomach churn. I set my empty glass on the table and stood. “Fuck you all very much. I’m going to find someone interesting.”
I stopped at the first stacked blonde I came to. “You alone?”
She smiled. “I was.”
“No more of that. I’m Kirby.”
“Marlie.” She tilted her head. “I know who you are. Can I get you a drink?”
This could turn out to be a good night after all.
“I’ll get one for both of us.” I placed a hand on her back and moved us to the bar.
“Go Packy!”
I recognized Riley’s voice and glanced back at our table. Every damn Warrior raised his glass. Bastards.
The bartender gave us our beers, and Marlie and I headed to a corner another couple had just vacated. Marlie was all smilesand laughs, even more beautiful than I’d first thought. We talked about the usual things, sizing each other up while we flirted.
Absolutely nothing happened. Marlie was exactly my type, but I wasn’t interested. When her hips brushed mine, instead of responding, my dick felt like it shriveled. There was zero spark.
When someone she knew stopped to speak to her, I escaped and dragged my tail back to the table. The guys greeted me with smartass laughs, and I didn’t even bother with a response.
Riley patted my still-empty chair, and I collapsed into it.
“I understand, buddy,” he said. “It happened to me too.”
At home, I kicked off my shoes, flopped across the couch, and stared at the ceiling. After a while, I checked my phone. No new messages. I reread the thread with Nico, hoping it hadn’t been as bad as I remembered. It was worse.
I’d been right before. Sunday morning at the hotel was nothing but proximity and morning wood. We’d both be over it by the time I saw him next Saturday.
“Not him,” I whispered. “Not ever.”
