“I don’t have a good answer right now.”
“You sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend hidden on the side?”
I grabbed my phone before I could lose my nerve.
NICO: Miss you. This sport sucks sometimes. Every time we get a night together, we pay for it with ten days apart. I played like my head was hundreds of miles away. Probably because it was. I’d rather be with you arguing about who’s stealing the blankets. Are you in your room? Need to see your face.
I sent it.
While I washed my face, the doubts sneaked in.What if he went out? What if he met someone?
Fuck. When I reached the bed again, my phone was glowing.
PACK: Hey, babe. We’re at the hotel but they screwed up our rooms. I got paired with Harpy. Total clusterfuck at the desk.
Another message followed.
PACK: Can’t talk freely and don’t want to give him a free show. Let’s talk tomorrow when we’re both home? As long as we want. I miss you like crazy.
A selfie popped up. Pack and Blanton were making dumb faces, with two messy beds behind them. My stomach relaxed.
NICO: Totally get it. Tell Blanton thanks for cockblocking me. Tomorrow will be perfect. Sleep well.
I took a quick selfie with a sad look and tapped send. Pack wasn’t sneaking around. The guy could barely keep track of his gear, so there was no way he was hiding a secret life.
The bed was cold when I slid under the covers. I missed Pack’s solid bulk keeping me warm. I picked up my phone and opened some of the naughty photos we’d exchanged for the hard, lonely nights. Ten minutes later, I used tissues to wipe up the worst of the mess, then turned on my side. I closed my eyes and took a long breath. In a few days, I’d try again. I’d ask the right question this time.
33/
packy
Mid-April
We werein Chicago for our last away game, and in two days, we’d close out the season at home. The Warriors had worked our way to the best record in the Eastern Conference and clinched our playoff spot in March. The Condors had made it too, which meant if we both won our first rounds, we’d face each other in the second.
After morning skate at the Icehouse, Harpy, Edwards, Dog, and I went to lunch at The Dearborn. We were walking back to the Fairmont, still arguing about whether lobster made a good pizza topping, when my phone dinged.
NIX: Ready for the big meeting?
The HFNA’s PR initiative had ended a week earlier, and Marissa had set up a video conference for all the ambassadors for this afternoon.
PACKY: Not really, but no choice. It’s at 2, right? Pushing back my pregame nap?
NIX: Yes. It’s 1 now. Want to talk until 2? I’ll help you relax since it’s game day. Where are you?
I grinned. Relaxing with Nix? Of course I was in.
PACKY: Just finished lunch, walking back to the hotel. Call you from there?
NIX: Can’t wait.
“Pregame nap with Nico?” Dog asked, smirking.
“Why would I tell you about it?”
“You just did,” Harpy said.
Edwards backhanded my arm. “Lucky. I’ll be beating it by myself.”
