It’s a good thing Matt’s gone home to Oregon for Thanksgiving. Maybe a week apart will give people time to find some other celebrity’s life to shove their noses in.
He can hope.
“How you feeling, kid?”
“I’mfine. But I’m gonna shove my hockey stick up your ass if you ask me that one more time.”
Marco barks out a laugh and leers. “Oh, baby, I feel like those kinds of kinks should be negotiated more—Ow!” He breaks out of his dramatics when Nick elbows him in the side. “Jeez, you’re grouchy today. C’mere.” Then, uncaring that they’re in the middle of a hallway, Marco loops an arm around Nick’s shoulders and pulls him into a solid hug. “Tonight’s gonna be great,” he promises, brushing a bristly kiss to Nick’s temple. He’s on a five-game point streak, which means he’s growing his moustache out, and Nick almost wants the streak to break just so he’ll shave off that monstrosity. “Just like any other game, yeah? Ignore everything the media says, and if LaPorte gives you shit, let me be the one to drop gloves, please.”
“He’s not gonna give me shit,” Nick says, groaning, though he doesn’t wiggle out of the embrace. “We’re friends, remember? Stop treating me like I’m gonna have a meltdown.”
“Hmmm.” Marco doesn’t sound impressed. Every time Nick’s brought it up, all he’s done is remind his younger teammate that he spent an entire year picking up the pieces Connor LaPorte left behind, andsomeonehas to look out for Nick since he clearly isn’t doing it himself.
It’s sweet, but it’s really not necessary. They’refine. He’s fine.
The word “fine” is starting to lose its meaning.
“I’m just saying,” Marco continues, “if youwereto have a meltdown about this, it would be okay. He really fucked you up, and you’re allowed to admit that, even though you’re friends again. But, and I say this with love, if youaregoing to have ameltdown I really need it to happen in the next, like, two to three hours tops. We’ve got a game to play.”
“I’m not going to have a meltdown!” He’s an adult, and he is perfectly capable of handling seeing his ex-teammate—ex-everything—on the ice wearing the opposing team’s jersey for the first time in his entire life.
His stomach churns ominously.
“I just need you to let me get on with shit, okay, man? It’s just another game. No crisis necessary.”
“If you’re sure.”
Nick and Marco part ways, and Nick slips into a nearby bathroom, locking the door and staring into the mirror. “I’m not going to have a meltdown,” he repeats, though it’s more like an instruction.
He hasn’t seen Connor yet. The Orignaux had a game in Arizona yesterday, so they’re on a tight travel schedule; they’re due at the rink in about an hour.
But Connor’s texted. He’s fine. Looking forward to seeing Nick. And Nick is…
Nick is not going to have a meltdown.
His phone buzzes in his pocket with a text. Wondering if it’s Lindsay checking up on him, he pulls it out with a scowl, prepared to send a very polite refusal in response.
It’s not Lindsay. It’s Matt.
Matt
Hey stud! Prev plans fell through, so good news… me & the band are gonna be at the game tonight! I’ll be wearing your jersey and everything ;) Good luck, kick ass, will text later x
Nick might have a meltdown. Just a little one.
Out in the arena, the crowd is ready. They’ve sold out tonight, Nick knows—with the most expensive tickets of the season to boot.
Everybody wants to be able to say they were in the room when the two shining stars of the QMJHL got their long-awaited reunion game.
Fidgeting with the hem of his jersey, Nick rolls his shoulders, taking a steadying breath. Ahead of him, his entire team is gathered, waiting. The music rumbling through the building changes and movement begins. Marco turns to him, bumping their foreheads together just like always, and then they’re walking down the mirror-lined tunnel and onto the ice.
During warm-ups, Nick didn’t let himself look towards the Quebec end of the ice.
He hasn’t told anyone, not even Marco—not evenConnor—but the prospect of tension with Connor isn’t what has him so anxious. They’re good, now, and he can say that with honesty. Being on the ice together isn’t going to change that.
No. What he’strulyworried about is the public—that they will take one look at him and Connor and seeeverything. There are already plenty of people out there who think they know exactly what went down in the Q. Nick’s terrified that they’ll see the way he and Connor interact, and the truth he’s spent five years hiding will be written all over his face.
He’s shared a rink with guys he’s fucked dozens of times, but never with someone he used to love, and Nick can’t shake the fear that he’s become so transparent that “bromance” won’t cut it any longer.
