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I close my eyes. "I don’t know."

He sighs. "Mandy... talk to me. Please. You’ve been off all week...when I was away and we talked on the phone, and you barely looked at me tonight. Did I do something?"

I swallow. My throat tightens. "It’s not something you did. It’s everything around you. Around us."

"What does that mean?"

I sit on the edge of my bed, fingers twisting the hem of his hoodie. "I saw the pictures. The ones from the team night out. The girl who looked like she belonged on your arm. I heard what that woman said at the meet-and-greet. I heard my sister’s voice in my head saying I’m an idiot for thinking you’d want me for real."

"Jesus, Mandy—"

"I’m not done."

He goes quiet.

"I’m trying so hard not to let it get to me, but I don’t know how to live in your world. I don’t know how to keep pretending it doesn’t sting when people look at me like I’m a temporary fix. Like I’m a bookmark until the next blonde in a tight dress smiles at you."

"You’re not temporary. You’re it. And it's fucked up that you're down the hall thinking otherwise."

"But they don’t know that. And honestly? Some days I’m not sure I do either."

He’s silent for a long beat. "Mandy, you’re not some random girl in a picture. You’re the one I think about during every away game. The one I want next to me when the world shuts up. I know I haven’t said it right. Or enough. But damn, I should’ve seen this coming."

My eyes sting. "That’s the problem, Nate. You didn’t know. And I didn’t want to say it. Because the second I do, I feel like I’m the clingy girl in a hoodie asking too much."

"You’re not clingy. You’re mine. And I want you to say everything. Even the hard stuff. Especially the hard stuff."

I blink back the tears. "Then prove it. Because I’m not the girl who chases. I never have been. I never will be."

"You don’t have to chase," he says, his voice low. "I’m already running toward you."

I huff out a shaky breath. "Yeah, for now you are..."

His voice sharpens. "What the hell does that mean?"

I hesitate. "I don’t know. Just... that maybe this is easier for you than it is for me."

Silence stretches between us. Heavy. Awkward. Not like us.

Finally, he says, low and tight, "Yeah? Well, it sure as hell doesn’t feel easy watching you pull away like this."

I have no answer to that. Nothing that makes it better. So I just sit there, hoodie wrapped tight, and let the uncertainty scream between us louder than anything either of us said.

"I'm going to study now, Nate."

He exhales, quiet for a second. "Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

I hang up. The screen goes dark, and the distance between our apartments suddenly feels bigger than a hallway.

Chapter twenty-three

Nate

Ican barely lace up my skates without picturing the way she looked last night. Distant. Smiling like it cost her something. I’d rather take a slapshot to the ribs than see Mandy pull away like that again.

Practice starts early. Coach has us running through warmups before sunrise, but I might as well be skating through fog. My timing is off. My passes are half a beat too slow. Every time I shift direction, my mind boomerangs straight back to Mandy.