@mad_dog93: Bro that’s not a back, it’s an ass. #GoForItBoys #PackoPowerPlay
@thompson71: So THIS is what “hands-on leadership” means? The eggplant can’t be far behind. #PackoCheeks #HockeyForAdults
@Riles_32: I’d call that a penalty for holding, but who am I to C-block true love? #PackoForever
@holky_warriors: Hand placement, boys? Didn’t know the outreach program came with benefits. #PackoConfirmed #LowerBackGoals
@Foote_Condors: Yeah dude, now you know what a hockey butt feels like. #SendHelp #HandsWhereWeCanSeeEm
@Logan_Grayson: At least buy him dinner first, Nico. Wait, this was after dinner? Never mind. #PenaltyBoxBliss #PackoForever
“No more,” I said, flopping onto my pillow. “I can’t take it.”
Nico went back to scrolling, and his soft groans made me nervous as hell.
“Remind me to never stand within five feet of you again,” I said.
He looked over, wearing a crooked smile. “Too late. The internet’s already written our wedding hashtag.”
“Don’t tell me what it is.”
“#StickToEachOther.” He held up the phone, and I saw endless heart, eggplant, and hot-dog emojis. One had two guys in tuxes at a wedding chapel.
“I’m so glad the reception was the only thing we have to do this weekend,” I said. When he put a hand on my arm, I added, “I’m moving to Sweden.”
“I’ll find you.”
I jerked my arm away. “Are you fucking serious? After all this?”
He laughed, the same smooth, smug sound that had always made me smile. That morning, I wondered if I’d rather punch him or kiss him. Probably both.
“Nix, this is crazy.”
He tossed his phone aside, lay down, and rested a hand on my chest. “You have to admit, it’s kind of funny.”
“It’s a nightmare.” I didn’t sound convincing, which only proved how horrifying it really was.
“It’s free publicity.” He leaned up and kissed my cheek. “Do you think the league’s angry? Gasser probably bought them all champagne.”
“But our buddies are?—”
“Having a lot of fun at our expense, exactly like we’d be doing to them if things were reversed.”
“Jesus Christ. The game.” On Tuesday night, the Condors would play the Warriors in Buffalo. “They won’t give us a minute’s peace.”
“Come on.” He kissed my neck, sending goose bumps down my chest and back. “The teams won’t even see each other except on the ice. Andhello, we’ll be busy playing hockey. Will we take some chirping? Probably. But it won’t be more than that.”
“The fans will see us on the ice together. How do you think that’ll go?”
His lips twitched into a cute grin. “We could beat the shit out of each other again. Use our… um…sticks.”
“This is serious, Nico.”
He slung a leg over mine. “Relax, babe. We’ll ride it out. Tomorrow’s feed will have something new for everyone to freak out over.”
Babe? Now he’s calling mebabe? Fuck all.
“What if it doesn’t?” I asked. I didn’t have the strength to ask him why he’d called mebabe.
