Page 125 of Cross Ice

“I know.”

“I can’t come inside. Can’t…” He ran a hand through his hair. “And you don’t know if you can live with this.”

I didn’t answer, because I didn’t have one yet. And saying I don’t know one more time felt like the cruelest possible thing to offer him right now.

“I should go,” he said. “Game tomorrow. I need to rest.”

“Okay.”

Neither of us moved.

Finally, I opened the door and got out.

Nico didn’t look at me.

I closed the door and watched his car disappear around the corner, the paparazzo’s camera clicking behind me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Nico

I didn’t sleep.

My phone was on my nightstand. I’d turned off the sound, but I could see it lighting up every twenty minutes.

Evan

I’m sorry. Can we talk?

Evan

Please. I know you’re angry. I just need to explain.

Evan

Nico. Please.

I didn’t respond. Didn’t know what to say.

Around four in the morning, I gave up on sleep and got up. Made coffee. Sat on my couch in the dark.

Game day. One o’clock against New York. I should have been resting, hydrating, and mentally preparing.

Instead, I was running on zero sleep, replaying the same moments on loop. The photo notification at the lunch table. The paparazzo in the parking garage. Evan’s face when he said I don’t know if being in love with you is enough. And the silence after, which was worse.

My phone lit up again.

Evan

I love you. I know I said it wrong yesterday, but I meant it. I love you.

I stared at that message for a long time.

Put my phone face down and went to take a shower.

I got to the arena at ten for pre-game prep.

André was already there, taping his stick. He looked up when I walked in. “You look like shit.”