“I’m sure you’ll be effective,” Jeanette said. “You look great together, and a lot of women will be thrilled to meet you. Men too.”
The thought of us being inseparable had gotten under Packy’s skin, so I twisted the knife. Grinning at him, I said, “You’re a looker, all right. I guess we’re hockey’s answer to a pair of fairy-tale princes.”
He looked into my eyes, and his lips formed the smirk I remembered all too well. “I think you meanI’mthe fairy-tale prince. You look like my weird brother who fell off the ugly truck.”
I laughed before I could stop myself, and the reporters cracked up again.
Packy had always been good with one-liners, but I was better. “I think you’ve got it backward, except you didn’t fall off a truck. You ran into it head-on.”
The reporters lost it, and Marissa, standing behind them, gave us a proud smile.
The man from NBC Sports scooted forward. “If we could get serious for a minute…”
The fucker thinks I’m not serious?
“What do you think the response will be to the league’s outreach effort? Can you sell it?”
“Overwhelmingly positive, no question.” Packy cut his eyes toward me, and I read his thoughts:We’re almost done with this one.
“We don’t have to sell anything,” I said. “Hockey’s thrilling for playersandfans. If we can convince people to watch one game, they’ll be hooked for life.”
“Nico’s right,” Packy said. “We’re excited about sharing what we love. The sport will sell itself, not us.”
CSN’s reporter spoke again. “I’m still thinking I’ve only seen you together during games. Are yousureyou’re friends? Because you wouldn’t have to be to work together.”
Seeing my chance to needle Packy more and shut the reporter up, I put an arm around Packy’s shoulders. He stiffened, and his eyes went as wide as moons.
“Packy and I have been like brothers since the first day of college training camp. I don’t know where you’ve been, but if you see one of us, the other won’t be far behind.” I pulled Packy closer and used my other hand to tap his cheek. “Right, bro?”
His smile looked as sincere as a concrete post. “Oh yeah. This guy’s the peanut butter to my jelly.”
The reporters nodded. Were they actually buying this shit?
Packy leaned over and whispered, “Let go of me, and if you ever fucking touch me again, I’ll whip your ass.”
I nodded and whispered back. “Oh, you’d like that. You’ve always had a thing for my ass.” I paused for effect, then added, “If you whip mine, I’ll return the favor.”
“I… the fuck? You’re sick. I wouldn’t… I’d never touch your filthy ass.”
I’d said it as a joke, but in the weirdest moment of the day, he hadn’t lost his smile while he sputtered. The stress must have been getting to him.
Ten minutes later, Marissa walked us out of the office. “You’re naturals,” she gushed. “I knew you would be. People are going to love you.”
Packy scoffed. “Unless we beat each other up in the middle of some event.”
“Channel what you did with those reporters, and you’ll be fine. Have fun out there.”
We rode down in the same elevator, too busy glaring at each other to say anything. In front of the building, I waited while he did something with his phone, and then asked which way he was going.
“Anywhere away from you. My flight to Buffalo is in two hours, and I just ordered an Uber to take me to the airport.”
I looked into his two-tone eyes. “Safe travels. See you tomorrow in Atlanta.”
Walking away, I peeked back over my shoulder and caught him mid-stretch. Damn, he’d put on some muscle in the last few years. I was still bigger than him, but it wouldn’t be so easy to hold him down if we got into it.
4/
packy
