His phone beeps, and his heart stutters—but it’s just Connor, wishing him Happy New Year from Quebec. He’s sent a selfie: him and some guy Nick doesn’t recognize, pressed right up against him, their cheeks flush together, a big smile on his pale face. Studying the picture closer, he’s got an arm tucked around Connor’s waist.
That must be Théo. Nick’s not sure what he was expecting, but it’s not that. He looks so… ordinary. So nice. Neat ash-blond hair, a nose that looks to have been broken at least once, freckles across the crooked bridge of it. Bright hazel eyes, a lean frame. He looks happy. They both do.
It’s the first time since the summer that Nick feels jealousy surrounding Connor LaPorte.
“Okay, that’s it, I’m sick of you moping.” Marco’s voice cuts into his thoughts. Nick looks up and sees his best friend dressed up in a nice green shirt. “We’re going to Hugsy’s party.”
“Cool, have fun. Tell everybody hi.”
“Nope.” Nick yelps as he’s grabbed by the collar and yanked to his feet. “We’regoing. My house, my rules. You’ve got fifteen minutes. Get pretty, Tiernan.”
“What?” No, absolutely not. The last thing Nick needs right now is to be surrounded by his teammates, having to play straight and be The Captain. Worse, surrounded bycouples, because that’s what Hugsy’s party will be. All the single guys are out on the strip, looking for company for the evening. Nick was invited to that, too, but that actually is the last thing he needs. Like, ever.
His best friend bullies him off the couch and up the stairs, where Nick discovers Lindsay waiting in his room with his outfit already picked out. She looks stunning in a tight little gold dress,makeup perfect and hair half in rollers. She also looks far too amused at her husband’s manhandling of Nick.
“I could just go home,” Nick threatens half-heartedly. Lindsay giggles.
“C’mon, you big baby. It won’t be all night. Home and in pajamas by eleven. Promise,” she swears, thrusting a shirt at him. “Don’t neglect your team just because you feel bad,Captain.”
“Low blow,” Nick mutters, glaring reproachfully.
Between the pair of Perezes, Nick is ready and presentable in the fifteen minutes he was given. In the car, Marco puts on some cheesy party playlist, and Nick’s grateful mostly because it doesn’t have a single Sticks+Stones song on it.
The short drive spent bopping along to pop classics is enough to get Nick smiling by the time they ring Hugsy’s doorbell. His wife is the one who answers, her dark brows rising in surprise at the sight of them.
“Trix! We didn’t think you’d make it.” He gives a guilty half-smile, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“Mom and Dad didn’t want to leave me at home by myself,” he says wryly, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “I guess I’m not old enough yet.”
She laughs, stepping aside to let him in and reaching out to greet Lindsay. “Well, we’re glad to have you. Come on through. Everyone’s in the den.”
The festivities are already well underway, and a cheer goes up at their arrival. Nick is immediately bundled into a hug between Hugsy and GJ, Hugsy ruffling his hair with a grin. “Glad you came, bro! We were worried about you, flying solo tonight.”
“Jesus, I’mfine,” Nick groans, shoving them both away gently, ignoring the pulse of guilt in his chest. They care about him, and he’s lying to them all. Worse than that, he’s letting his team down. As captain, he should be a given at these things. “If Iwanted mothering I’d have gone back to Jersey for the weekend, Christ.”
Nick hates to admit it, but the party is not actually as bad as he’d thought it would be. Everyone’s in the best moods they’ve been in all month, all tipsy and relaxed. With a game against Toronto tomorrow, no one’s getting fully wasted.
So sure, he has fun. It’s good to be surrounded by happy people. But he’s still glad when Lindsay catches his eye a little after ten and gives a discreet thumbs-up, then starts making noise about wanting to get an early night.
As soon as he steps through the doorway of the Perez house, his shoulders slump with exhaustion and the smile drops off his face. His cheeks ache from maintaining it.
“I’m gonna make hot chocolate,” Lindsay declares. Nick makes a noise of enthusiasm and heads upstairs to change into something comfortable. He finds the cats in his bedroom, tangled together in the center of his bed, and Dolly purrs happily at the sight of him. He fusses over her until Billy takes a swipe at his hand, then leaves the trio be.
Even his cat has a better love life than him. How depressing.
Nick knows that his friends won’t let him turn in early. But they’ll at least let him curl up with hot chocolate and get lost in his own thoughts, the TV on low with some New Year’s celebration concert thing, waiting for the fireworks to begin in an hour.
“Anyone got any resolutions?” Lindsay asks, not lifting her head from her husband’s chest. Nick scoffs.
“Get better taste in men?” he suggests ruefully. Marco tosses a box of tissues at his head.
“How aboutlearn to communicate my feelings,” the older man says pointedly, rolling his eyes when Nick flips him off. Nick only had about three days of sympathy from his best friendbefore the “I told you so” comments came out, Marco insisting he should have been upfront about things in the first place.
“I can still leave,” Nick threatens, though it’s half-hearted and they all know it.
A new singer steps onto the stage on TV, and Lindsay turns the volume up a little, ending the conversation there. Nick’s only half paying attention.
Watching musicians on stage reminds him of seeing Matt in his element, and a little seed of hurt sprouts between his ribs. God, this isn’t how he thought he’d be spending the last day of 2022. For the first time in years, he’d had hope for this one.
