Page 44

Nicko, April 11th

I n a perfect story, the kind I would have liked to tell my nieces and nephews one day, we would have gone on to the Frozen Four final. Bonding over doing the right thing would have helped us rally together for the ultimate win.

In the real world, we lose our next game.

And by losing, I mean Michigan fucking obliterates us with a whopping 4-1.

We knew from the start that making up for the losses on our roster was close to impossible. Zollweg might be a raging homophobe who has gone on to tell “his side of the story” on several podcasts and YouTube channels, but unfortunately, he was also one of our best players.

Coach has upheld his suspension for Elrod, but word has it that he and Zollweg are trying to bring in lawyers to “restore their names.”

Bergerson only returned once to clean out his locker. He didn’t talk to any of us but posted a lengthy statement on his Instagram account to publicly explain how “insurmountable differences” led to him resigning from the team.

Jacob Dunn, my right winger on the fourth line, followed a few days later due to the pressure his parents put on him. Seeing Jacob pack up his things, lips pressed into a thin line and fingers shaking when he grabbed his skates, was depressing.

Aside from that, Aldridge is still out with his broken hand. His case is also up for review since, at the end of the day, he attacked another teammate. He wasn’t even allowed on the bench today but attended the game from the stands, his teenage brother next to him. We met the kid outside and signed his hockey stick. The rainbow tape actually answered a lot of my questions. I doubt we will ever become buddies, but Aldridge still slapped my back and wished me good luck for the game.

A part of me is glad this season has come to an end. Going on to the finals just wouldn’t feel right. Not even with Xander officially reaching out to us and explaining that he was grateful for the support the rest of the team showed.

Not all of our fans and classmates agree on that. Campus has turned into a minefield—we never know if we will get harassed or praised for our actions. Everyone, from the janitor to the dean, had their own opinion to voice. So it wasn’t surprising that most seats in our faction stayed empty today, be it to protest “wokeness” or homophobia in college sports. Actually, the biggest group consists of my family, my roommates, and Xander. Since the Frozen Four is hosted by Boston this year, all of them made the journey.

I hate to lose in front of people I love.

“That was an awesome goal!” Marisol cheers when I skate up to the plexiglass. My teammates are already heading off to the showers while Michigan celebrates on the other side of the rink. I feel a bit bad for them—even when their fans went all out, it’s simply not the same with half the arena showing empty seats.

“Thanks,” I laugh at her genuine excitement. Scoring B-Tech’s only goal tonight is a small consolation. This was my last NCAA goal, maybe even my last one on US soil.

I already know that I won’t be done with hockey. The Rebels still haven’t come through, but I have made my peace with being cut loose.

As expected, Xander already signed his contract. I was there when he did, watching with envy, yes, but also pride. I would have never believed it a few months ago, but seeing his awe over having his name printed out on top of the first page actually made my own heart jump with excitement.

I don’t know who will give me a chance once the Rebels officially drop me—with my injury and the current trouble around the Badgers, I don’t expect any other NHL team to pick me up as a free agent. But I might be able to snag a spot on an AHL roster before having to look at European leagues.

“Yes, yes, epic goal. So sad you lost, Nicko. Now can we please leave this place? My balls are freezing off,” Oliver complains, which earns him a stern reprimand from Linden about tact and empathy. They pack up their signs and banners while Nate is rounding up our parents. Mom tries to make eye contact with me several times, but my brother practically pulls her away while animatedly chatting about the call he had with the Utonagans’ offensive coordinator.

“Are you riding home with us?” Dad wants to know, and I hesitate for a moment, then shake my head.

“No,” I say, “I’ll be with the team.”

Dad nods in understanding. “Talk tomorrow then?” he asks, and I give him a thumbs up before he turns around to trail after my mom and brother.

And with that, Xander is the only one left on B-Tech’s side of the rink.

“Hey,” he murmurs, finally stepping closer and placing a hand on his side of the divider. A small smile tugs on my lips, and I bring my glove up as well.

“Hey.” My voice is barely audible over Michigan’s party music, but it also means no one is paying us any attention.

“How do you feel?”

I close my eyes at his question, leaning forward so my helmet knocks against the plexiglass. “Tired,” I say. “Really, really tired.”

And scared. I don’t say that last part out loud. I knew this moment would come: the end of my season. And while I hammered out a rough plan for my future, this thing between Xander and me finally reached its end. It feels strange, not only because of the past months but years. Even when we could barely stand being in the same room, he was a constant in my life, a corner of my mind always reserved for him.

“I can imagine,” he laughs, but the sound is hollow, the smile on his lips just an empty upward curve that doesn’t reach his eyes.

We both linger in silence, too aware that when we break away, this will be it.

Season’s end.

The final horn.

Thrice Xander opens his mouth then closes it again without speaking a word. Every time I hold my breath, longing for him to say something and afraid of it at the same time.

We stay like this until the Michigan players start leaving the ice, throwing long glances back at us. I’m surprised Coach hasn’t come out to drag me off to the showers yet, half worrying they might have left without me.

Finally, Xander clears his throat. “You should probably go and refuel. Get a warm shower.”

My chest tightens beneath my pads, but I give an automatic nod as I drop my glove from the plexiglass.

“Yeah,” I agree as I roll my shoulders awkwardly. “I should.”

“I guess...I will see you around?”

“Maybe,” I say, already dreading my visits to Nate. He will have to come to the Nook more often now—my roommates kept asking about him anyway. Apparently, they have a rerun of America’s Next Top Model to finish.

“Okay, so...take care.”

“You too.”

And with that, I push myself off the boards.

***

The drive back to campus is a quiet affair. Even with a hint of relief surrounding us, a loss is still a loss, and there will be a lot of fallout to deal with. But I won’t be part of that, and I almost regret it.

I only pull my phone out to let my parents know that we have made it back safely. It’s been on airplane mode for the game, so now there’s a flood of incoming messages and notifications that I all swipe away without opening them. My heart aches when I catch the preview of the Nook’s group chat, Oliver letting me know that the house is mine for the night.

Use it wisely ;)

I bite my tongue hard at that. This would have been my absolute dream at the start of the season—being able to hide away from everyone and everything to wallow in my own misery. Now the prospect fills me with dread. I was looking forward to a cooked meal by Micah—because heaven forbid someone orders pizza in his presence—and Oliver reading to us from his awful books while I iced my overworked body. I debate calling them, but they probably thought they were doing me a solid, since Xander has become a regular visitor at our place. Explaining his absence is definitely not a conversation I’m looking forward to.

I take the longest route back from campus, deliberately going under the speed limit.

Our driveway is empty, but my brother’s car is parked in front of the house. A wave of relief washes over me at the sight of a dark figure leaning against it.

I won’t have to be alone tonight.

I close the door with a soft thud, careful not to wake any of our neighbors. It’s past midnight by now, the cool air softly grazing over my face. Spring has kept everyone waiting this year, but it’s finally chasing off the freezing temperatures I prefer.

“Hey, what do you think about pizza?” I call out as I make my way over to Nate’s car, my hockey bag slung over one shoulder. I have already pulled up DoorDash when the sound of an unexpected voice gives me pause.

“Nicko,” Xander murmurs, and my head snaps up. For a moment I think I’ve made this up in my brain, but when I close my eyes, then open them again, he’s still standing there, next to Nate’s car.

“What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you. Please, hear me out. If you don’t want me here afterward, I’ll leave.”

I take a deep breath, my eyes roaming over Xander’s appearance. His black hair is disheveled, as if he raked his fingers through it too many times, the zipper of his jacket pulled up only halfway. Underneath, I recognize the worn sweater from our first date.

“Okay,” I tell him, and he lets out a shattered breath.

“I know this thing between us was meant to be temporary, but–” he breaks off mid-sentence, taking a step toward me. “But. Fuck . I don’t know when or how this happened and believe me, I’ve stayed awake and picked my brain apart over it…”

My heart trips over its next beat, because I know exactly where this is going. There’s a treacherous tingle in my stomach.

“The morning run.”

“What?”

I bite back a laugh at the confusion in his voice. My fingers tremble when I finally stuff my cell into the side pocket of my duffel bag.

“The first morning run we took together. When I fell on my bad knee and you helped me inside? That’s when it happened for me,” I explain. It’s the one time I’ll be willing to admit this—here in the dark, tired and beaten.

Xander stays quiet for a moment, then huffs out a laugh. “And here I was hoping it was when you snuck a look at my dick.”

I snort at that. “Keep dreaming, Hart.”

“Actually, this would be the perfect time to call me The Great .”

“Pff,” I huff and shake my head at him, but my lips are already curling into a smile. Total idiot.

There’s another moment of silence, the air shifting around us as the humor slowly fades away.

“Nicko, I–” he starts, and I hold up my hand. It’s still trembling.

“Don’t say it, Xan.” There’s no force behind my words, just a pathetic plea, as I can already feel a lump forming in my throat again.

“Why not?”

“Because if you say it now, I’ll fucking cry. And I hate crying.”

“Being loved makes you cry?”

“Shit, I told you not to say it!” I curse, leaning my head back to rapidly blink up at the dark sky. There’s not a single star visible above us.

“But I have to, Nicko. I have to make sure that if you walk away from me, you at least know how utterly, stupidly in love I am with you.”

Oh God. I suddenly feel lightheaded. There’s not enough air in my lungs. My heart goes crazy in my chest, bumping around like an out-of-control rebound.

“That’s so fucking stupid of you,” I sniffle, bringing up one arm to wipe a sleeve over my nose.

“You’re terrible at this, Hoff. Normal people would say it back now,” he lectures me, but I can hear the tremor in his voice.

“Bold of you to assume I feel the same.”

“So you don’t?”

I meant to tease, but the insecurity in Xander’s voice makes my stomach hurt. I think back to our conversation in my parents’ kitchen, of the kid trying to be the polka-dotted puppy, and it’s then that I realize I can’t pretend anymore. Can’t let him go thinking I never loved him back, even when I will have to let him go all the same.

I drop my duffel bag to the pavement, then take a step forward, my hands reaching for his. They’re barely peeking out from under the loose sleeves of his sweater. It’s such a ridiculously sweet sight on him it makes me want to press a pillow to his face. How dare he look cute at this moment?

“Of course I love you, Lexi. I’ve never managed to get you out of my system.”

“You don’t have to get me out of your system. Not ever.”

Xander’s arms are around me, pulling me toward him, and I allow myself to be engulfed by him. There’s not a part of my body that doesn’t ache, but his embrace soothes the pain.

“Yes, I do have to. How will I function when you’re a thousand miles away but the first thing on my mind every morning? How will I play hockey when all I want to do is watch your games and pick on your mistakes?”

Xander snorts at that and the sound—half laughing, half crying—is so absurd that I almost choke on my own snot.

“You can always record my mistakes,” Xander suggests, his hands cupping my face. “But you also could be right there for them.”

I frown, ready to protest when he puts a finger against my lips.

“You don’t know they won’t sign you yet, Nicko. Your season barely ended a few hours ago. But even if they won’t, we can make it work.”

I close my eyes, trying to picture what that would look like—making it work with Xander. Possibly across different time zones, maybe even across different continents.

“What if no one here signs me? What if I have to leave the US?”

“Then I’ll talk to you the whole night and show up very tired to a lot of morning skates, but it will be worth it, Nicko. We are worth it.” There’s a resoluteness to his tone that almost tricks me into believing he’s right. That we could have a chance.

Almost.

“This is crazy, Lexi. You’re crazy. You deserve someone who can be right here with you and support you, someone who has the guts to be out with you in public. And I’m not that. After everything...I’m not ready.”

“But do you think you could be ready in the future? One day?”

“I hope so, but–”

“Then you deserve someone who waits with you until you’re there, Nicko. I would never ask you to come out when you’re feeling unsafe. Or force you to give up your dream for me. There’s room for all of it. And if not, we will make room.”

My head is spinning with all of the possibilities he’s painting right now. Having both at the same time—Xander and hockey. I know it can’t be as easy as he describes it. But I want it.

God, do I want it.

“I hope your signing bonus was huge,” I tell him with a wobbly grin, then huff when he just raises an eyebrow at me. This will never not annoy me.

“You know, to cover the bill from all the late-night phone sex?”

Xander just stares at me for a moment and then, just as I think he might have changed his mind, he kisses me. Not once, not twice, but all over. Tiny little pecks that cover my eyelids and nose, my forehead and brows, my jawline and chin, until I have to fight him off with laughter.

“Oh, I’ll pay for every one of your phone bills from now on,” he declares, and I snort at that very short-sighted promise.

“Nate will be happy to hear that. Now come on, I’m fucking starving, so you can start with paying for dinner.”

“So romantic,” he sighs, but then he jogs up the sidewalk to where I dropped my bag while I already trot up the porch steps.

“Throw me the keys?” I call out to him. “Oh, and my phone? Side pocket. I’m thinking pizza, family sized, no chilis, four cheese–”

“Uh, Nicko?”

Xander tosses me the keys. I catch them easily, then tilt my head when he’s waving my ringing cell at me.

“Pff,” I huff again, because I’m not in the mood to deal with the outside world right now. Not ever, really, but especially not for the rest of tonight. All I want is to eat pizza and curl up in bed with...my boyfriend.

“Just let it go to voicemail,” I demand, impatiently stepping from one foot to the other. “If you really want to be with me, you need to learn that food is more important than–”

But Xander interrupts me with a shake of his head, thrusting my ringing phone at me.

“No,” he says. “I think you need to make an exception for this one.”