Page 38

Xander, March 13th

G oosebumps cover my skin as I hurry down the sandstone steps. The air is cold against my bare skin, but I only clutch the towel around my hips more tightly. I ignore the looks and whistles of other students as I dash past them.

“Nicko, wait!”

“Go away!” he shouts over his shoulder, but his steps slow and he finally comes to a stop halfway across the grass patch outside of the building.

“Please, Nicko, don’t–”

“You knew! You knew and didn’t tell me!” He whirls around to glare at me.

I raise one hand, needing the other to make sure I don’t flash him—and anyone who happens to walk by.

“I know, I’m sorry,” I say, reaching for his arm and sighing when he yanks it away before I can even touch him. “Just...just listen to me for a minute, okay?”

He presses his lips together, but at least he doesn’t run. I nod toward an alcove around the corner. When Nicko doesn’t budge, I make my way there to be out of view. He joins me a few seconds later, and that’s enough to set off tentative sparks of relief.

At least he isn’t shutting down by himself. At least he isn’t locking me out.

“Yes, I knew,” I start, wincing when Nicko’s face instantly draws into a deep frown. I tilt my head to find his eyes, holding the contact even as there’s a storm of anger and betrayal raging in them.

“Nate told me in January, but only because I found a brochure for these online MA courses.” I let him do the math. It’s a while ago, yes, but it’s not last fall.

“You should’ve told me,” he insists and I hum, reaching up to cup his cheek. I smooth my palm against his warm skin and the slight scratch of his jaw. He allows the contact this time, but only for a moment before he pulls away again.

“I wanted to; I really did.” I bite my tongue, feeling the guilt swirl in my stomach when I think back to the night where I almost did—and then kept quiet. “But Nate’s my best friend, and he made me promise not to. And...well, I thought this was something between the two of you, and it wasn’t my place to take away his chance to talk to you. Which he wanted to!” I hurry to say, feeling some need to defend my best friend. “He just didn’t want to distract you during the season. Not that that’s an excuse, but you know him.”

Nicko chews on his lip, making me want to gently tug it out from between his teeth, but I refrain, waiting for him to digest the news. Any minute he isn’t running away from me is already a win.

“What...what online courses?” he finally asks, brows still drawn together.

“He’s going for a master’s degree in creative writing.”

“So he really wants to write books, huh?”

I hum and nod. “Yeah. And...and you know he...I think he really needs to have a plan B. Something other than hockey.” I raise one shoulder. “Just in case.” In case he doesn’t make it to the NHL. In case Nate isn’t as lucky and can’t come back from tearing a tendon or ligament.

“He wouldn’t need a plan B if he played for the Pioneers,” Nicko mutters, but there’s no real heat behind it, no fight.

My heart clenches with how hurt he sounds.

“We all know that they might have benched him for eternity,” I say quietly, trailing my hand down to lace my fingers with Nicko’s. He huffs but holds on to my hand.

I squeeze gently, leaning closer. “I’m not saying it’s okay what Nate did, believe me. I’ve been pretty upset with him too, but you should think about whether you’re angry with him—and me–” I add, tilting my head, “–or if you’re sad that things are going to be different than what you imagined.”

“I…” Nicko starts but then breaks off. There are unshed tears glistening at the corners of his eyes, his breath shaky as he inhales. “What even is a Utonagan?” his voice trembles, and my throat hurts in sympathy.

“It...it’s a type of dog.”

“What?” He shakes his head. “Nate doesn’t even like dogs!”

I chuckle, well aware of the irony. “Yeah, serves him right, huh?”

For a few moments Nicko chews on his lips, then those tears start to slide down over his cheeks. It kills me, but I wait until he leans closer before I wrap my arms around him.

“Ugh,” he groans, protesting, but I just hum and hold him closer. After a few moments, he takes a handful of deep breaths, letting his head sink against my shoulder. I nose into his hair, sighing when I breathe in his familiar scent.

“I just...what if...what if he’ll leave me behind?” Nicko’s voice is so small and quiet that I barely make out his words through the soft sobs. When I do, I shake my head right away.

“He’d never. Nate would never leave you behind,” I say, utterly sure. I might be speaking for my best friend, but there’s no way in hell he’d ever leave his brother behind.

“But what if...and you’ll both...and I–” Nicko’s sobs are getting strong enough to shake his shoulders, and I pull him even tighter against me, rubbing over his back. I wait for him to calm down, running my hands over his back before I tilt my head to nudge his ear with my nose.

“That’s bullshit. Neither Nate nor I will leave you behind. You’ll be right there, kicking my ass with the Rebels, and as soon as Nate’s ready, you’ll kick his ass too at whichever club he ends up. In fact, you’ll kick so much ass that they’ll create a whole new category for it.”

Nicko hiccups, struggling to reach one hand up to cover my mouth.

“You’re so ridiculous, Hart,” he mutters, but there’s no more tears, and his voice is much steadier. “That isn’t even funny!”

“No, but it’ll be true.” I brush a few strands of hair off of Nicko’s forehead, cupping his cheek to tip his head up and brush our lips together. The contact is warm and comforting. When I blink my eyes open, his are still red but clear, and not swimming with unshed tears anymore. He leans back against me; his hair tickles my cheek and then my neck, and I wish we could stay right here forever.

“Okay, enough lecture. Get back to your room before someone calls the cops on you for running around naked,” Nicko says eventually but doesn’t move to let go, so I don’t either. Though I do reach down to make sure the towel is still there, wrapped around my hips.

“Somehow, I seem to have trouble keeping my clothes on around you.”

“Normally, I appreciate that, but not when you might catch your death.”

I chuckle and slowly loosen my arms, mentally preparing to let him go. It becomes harder the less time we have left in the season. I should worry about that, but I keep pushing it off.

As long as there’s a later to be had, I want as much of it as I can get.

“You’ll talk to him, right?” I can’t help but ask.

“Yeah,” Nicko sniffs, rubbing over his face with his sleeve. “Just...not now,” he says, blinking up at me and then looking away again.

I nod, even though my nerves strain at the prospect of having to deal with the twins arguing for another couple of days. I know it hurts them both, but I also know it’s something only they can fix.

“I understand,” I hum, once again burying my nose in Nicko’s hair as I press my lips against his forehead. He leans into the contact, sighing as—slowly—some tension leaves his shoulders. His breath tickles my neck, causing my heart to jump into my throat.

God, I can’t get enough of him.

“Nicko, I…” I clear my throat when my voice comes out rough and thick. It breaks the spell that almost had me bare more of myself than if I lost the towel.

“Text me, when you’re home?” I end a bit lamely. A breeze makes me shiver, and Nicko rubs over my arms and bare chest, making me aware of how warm his hands are—and how cold I feel.

“Yeah, of course. Now go!” He makes a shooing motion, though I see his eyes trail down my chest to my hips and legs. Then he nudges me toward the entrance of the building.

Without him to shield me from the wind, it’s freezing, and I’m eager to get inside. Before I pull the door open, I look over my shoulder though.

Nicko is walking backward across the lawn, raising his hand for a wave before he reaches up to tug his hood over his head.

Back upstairs, I hurry to put on some clean sweatpants and socks, shivering as I pull a sweater over my head.

“Where’s Nicko?” Nate’s voice reaches me through the thick fabric.

“Home,” I answer as soon as I have managed to push my head through.

Nate’s eyes glare at me, much angrier than I expected. They’re also a bit swollen, and I suspect that he too cried as soon as I left to chase after his brother.

“What? Why didn’t you bring him back?”

“He needs time to–”

“He’s my brother! I know him much better than you, just because you’re fu–hmpf,” he interrupts himself, but my eyebrows still shoot up into my hair. Nate gnaws on his lips.

“He’s my brother,” he repeats, gritting his teeth. He’s upset, not thinking straight, so I let it slide.

“I know,” I tell him, rubbing my cold hands together, “and because you know him better than anyone else, you know he needs space right now. You’re just not thinking clearly.”

He opens his mouth, but I grab him by his shoulders.

“I’m not trying to get between you two. And I’m also not explaining your own brother to you, man. You know this. You’re just angry this is how it all got out.”

Nate keeps glaring at me for a moment, but then deflates, shoulders slumping down. He lifts one hand to angrily rub at his eyes and I hum, pulling him in for a hug. After a moment, I can feel one of Nate’s arms around my waist.

“Aren’t you going to tell me I told you so? ” he asks when I let go again.

I shake my head; I really don’t need to lecture any more Van der Hoffs right now. “Let’s order some dinner, hm?” The evening has been exhausting enough; we both deserve to take it easy.