“Holy shit,” Connor whispers. A strangled laugh wrings its way out of Nick’s throat.
“Yeah. And, uh… I need your help.”
Slowly, carefully, he explains his idea to his ex-boyfriend, waiting for the moment Connor calls him an idiot and hangs up the phone.
It doesn’t come. Connor is silent the whole time, but it’s a thoughtful kind of silence punctuated by the occasional hum. When Nick finishes, he braces himself.
“Yes,” Connor says immediately. Nick blinks.
“Yes, like…?”
“Yes, I’m in.”
“Wait, really?” Nick goggles at his phone. “Just like that?”
“I’m already one wrong move away from accidentally outing myself,” Connor points out. “I’d rather do it on my own terms. Besides,” he adds, softer, “we’ve always been in this together, Nicky. No matter what happened in the middle there. If you’re doing this, so am I.”
A lump rises in Nick’s throat, and he swallows hard. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “I… Shit, man, I really didn’t want to have to do this by myself.”
“As if I’d ever let you,” Connor retorts. “If they want to start a fight, they can do it with both of us. And anyone else who wantsto get on board.” Suddenly there’s a loud crash from Connor’s side of the call, and a quiet curse in French slips out. Nick snorts.
“Go deal with that,” he urges. “I’ll catch you later, give you the details.”
“Sounds good. Talk soon. Love you, Nicky. Proud of you.”
Nick’s eyes itch threateningly. “Thanks, Conn. You too.”
He hangs up, letting his phone drop to his lap as he runs his fingers through his hair, letting out a long, shaky breath.
Tony wants him to put his heart on the ice, huh?
He’d better be careful what he wished for.
Nick hates mid-roadie travel days. Going from one hotel to another, practicing on somebody else’s ice. Especially travel days that aren’t even game days. He’s got nothing to focus on, nothing to build his routine around. It’s the worst.
It’s especially bad today, sitting in a hotel room in Colorado, alone with his iPad propped on his knees because it’s March 18th and right now Matt is in New York City with the band, about to start their interview with StarlingFM any minute, and Nick hasn’t heard the man’s voice in way too long.
He’s been trying to distract himself, stay busy the way Matt clearly is since he hasn’t had any time to fuckingcallin the last week. God, has it only been a week? Nick feels like he’s aged a decade.
He wasn’t going to listen. He’d decided when he left Dallas that he was going to stop pining and let Matt have the space he evidently wanted. But then the plane had landed and his phone had beeped with a single text message.
Matt
Please listen tonight. If you can. I hope it explains things.
And, well, if Matt’s going to dump him for good over the fucking radio, the least Nick can do is tune in. So here he is, tangling the drawstring of his hoodie between his fingers, feeling so anxious he might puke before the band even comes on.
The song currently playing ends, and the show host’s upbeat voice cuts in.“All right, folks, I hope you’re ready, because we’ve got one heck of a treat for you this afternoon! I have in the studio with me the band Sticks+Stones, whose second albumCastles and Monuments, released in July of 2020, shot them headfirst into the spotlight of the pop-punk scene. They just released an EP which is, if I may say so, absolutefire.”
“Thank you, that’s so sweet of you to say,”Matt says, voice warm. Nick’s heart lurches.
“It’s just the truth, my friend! And you’re now gearing up to record your third album very shortly, isn’t that right?”
“We are, yeah,”Casey confirms brightly.“It’s taken us a little longer than planned to get there, but we’re headed into the studio next month.”
“Ooh, exciting stuff!”
Nick’s knee bounces impatiently as the band introduce themselves: Matt soundsfine, if maybe a little tired. Not that that means anything. He’s a performer, after all.
