CHAPTER SIXTEEN

L uke

I hurry from the arena, zipping up my coat as I flee the locker room. I don’t want to keep Sebastian waiting. The interviews were cancelled—I think Evan and Coach are going to speak to journalists later via Zoom or something.

I spot Sebastian at once. I recognize his bright blue coat. But last time I saw him he wasn’t holding onto Oskar’s hand.

My stride falters, then slows.

Maybe I’m imagining it.

But they’re definitely holding hands. They’re also laughing.

Something curdles in my gut. Maybe I didn’t drink enough water after the game. Usually I feel more dehydrated when I’m in a hot place, like Vegas or Dallas, but water is important all the time, even when I’m covered with the frozen variety.

Because I’m not feeling another emotion.

No way.

I mean, if Sebastian and Oskar like each other, just like Dmitri said—that’s great. I like both of them. It’s all wonderful. Totally wonderful.

I scowl and march toward the bus.

Life is awesome.

I’m pretty sure I’m still glowering by the time I reach the bus.

Oskar and Sebastian are separated. But that’s probably because Oskar is going to sit next to his dad like always.

My gaze is focused on Sebastian. He notices me at once, but instead of smiling or something, he ducks his head.

I plop down beside him. “Hi.”

“Good game,” he says.

“Uh-huh.”

“My producers saw it and are thrilled.”

“Cool.”

“The girls watched it too.”

“I thought they weren’t supposed to have access to the outside world.”

“You’re the exception.” His smile is brittle.

And then I get it.

He was waiting for me here because he wanted to update me for Mr. Right things.

“You don’t have to sit with me,” I say.

His eyes round, and he draws back. If I didn’t know he was holding hands with Oskar sixty seconds ago, I might feel apologetic.

But I do know that, so I don’t.

His gaze shifts toward me, his eyebrows somewhat higher than normal. I hate I know that. I shouldn’t.

My eyes narrow, and he jerks his gaze away from me. “I’m fine.”

He takes out his phone, and his fingers tremble. I have a strange urge to swallow them with my own, to tuck him against me so the nervous expression on his face dissipates, and he’s happy and smiling.

I cross my arms instead and stare in front of me.

My teammates file into the bus. They shoot curious looks at me and Sebastian, as if the tension between us is as visible as any wall. The air vibrates between us, air molecules rearranging themselves and trying to become solid rather than float between us.

I rip my gloves off and spread my hands over my thighs, staring down. I sense Sebastian’s gaze on them, but when I turn, he’s looking at the parking lot.

Well, I guess I can’t blame him. He hasn’t seen snow in a while. Must be a pretty weird concept. And I know for a fact he hasn’t been home since he was eighteen, because when I popped into his stepfather’s pawn shop this summer, the guy could barely remember him.

The bus finally jerks to a start. It inches forward slowly, crawling through the slush, then slowing to something slower than a crawl. The windshield is white, and when I turn to look out the window, Sebastian is staring at the equally white sheet of snow.

“Pretty different from California,” I say.

He jerks his head into a nod. Not multiple nods. Just one. His gaze remains fixed on the nonexistent view.

I press my lips together. I’m not sure why he decided to stay sitting next to me when he could have been sitting next to Oskar. Probably laughing or something. But Oskar is sitting next to Coach. Their heads are together, discussing who knows what.

The bus slides, and Sebastian’s phone slips from his hands. He scrambles down for it, but that’s not going to work. Not when the bus is careening over the ice. I pull him back.

He tenses in my arms, his breath heavier than I imagined. It’s the sound I hear late at night sometimes, when I’m thrusting in and out of somebody, and sweat has slicked our bodies together.

His eyes widen.

I hope he didn’t read my thoughts. My cheeks burn. “Sorry. Maybe you should wait until the bus stops sliding.”

“Like now?”

I blink, then realize the bus is continuing forward. Worse, I realize I’m still holding onto Sebastian. He looks wide-eyed and nervous, and I hate it.

I pull my arm away quickly. “Yeah. Um, let me.”

I scramble down and look for the phone, pressing my fingers against the grainy, snow-smudged floor. I move Sebastian’s legs to search for it better, then finally clasp the cold rectangular glass. I lift the phone up triumphantly.

“Thank you.” Sebastian hesitates, then yanks it from me. His face is pinker than before, even though he didn’t exert himself in an athletic manner.

I sit back in my seat. My heart gallops, thudding over unsteady ground, even though a high heart rate so isn’t my thing.

Finally, the bus pulls into the hotel.

My shoulders ease, eager to abandon the odd tension.

The mic crackles, then Oskar announces we’ll have to squeeze into fewer rooms than before.

I press my lips together. Will Sebastian room with Oskar? Will they explore their super special friendship?

I frown, even though it would be totally awesome—really—if they hit it off. They could hold hands way more.

SEBASTIAN

The bus arrives at the hotel, and Luke springs forward. “I’ll get your bags.”

By the time I get out of the bus, he’s standing at the hotel entrance, with all my equipment flung over his sizable shoulders. My favorite Louis Vuitton carry-on rests on Luke’s suitcase.

“Sorry,” he says, when I join him in the lobby. “I would have waited at the bus entrance, but I didn’t know how waterproof these bags are. I think I heard that equipment can get damaged if left out in the cold and thought you might like having them close anyway—”

“Thank you,” I say quickly. “That’s n-nice.”

Maybe things are fine after all. He beams, and I look away because his smile is so bright, like he’s trying to burn into my soul.

Oskar heads to the reception, smiling at us when he passes. Luke’s smile lessens, and my growing joy falters.

I thought Luke was cool with gay people. I mean, he seems okay with me, and he does have gay friends...

But he definitely seems to be glowering in Oskar’s direction.

Oskar is more twinkish. Small-boned and pretty. More honestly, like me, and all my muscles stiffen.

The other hockey players pile into the lobby.

“First again, Luke!” Troy announces.

“That’s because he’s not a slowpoke like you,” Finn says. “I mean, you barely skated at all during the game...”

“I was guarding the goal!” Troy says, affronted.

“Sounds like an excuse to me,” Finn says, swinging an arm around Noah. “Don’t you agree, My Sweet Puck?”

Noah nods solemnly. “Guess you don’t have the energy for distance, Troy.”

Troy glowers, then in the next moment he slides into the splits and waves his arms over his head. “Ta-da!”

“If you ruin your suit pants, you’ll need to get a new suit before the next game,” Coach says.

“Hey!” Troy scrambles up. “I buy suit pants with plenty of give. I’m a man who thinks in advance.”

Oskar hands me a plastic card, then gives one to Luke. “You’ll be in Room 547.”

He then continues to walk by.

Luke stares at the plastic card, and I’m uncertain what he’s thinking. I shiver. Does he not want to stay in the same room with me?

One thing is sharing bus seats, but a bedroom is different.

“Wait!” Luke calls, and Oskar turns around.

“Is there a problem?” Oskar asks.

“These are for the same room?” Luke asks. “Like...the same one?”

I want to sink into the floor.

Oskar is all professional charm though. “The hotel didn’t have enough rooms for all of us. I’m afraid everyone is sharing this time.”

“I get that, but um, Sebastian is sharing with me?”

Confusion manages to settle onto Oskar’s face, before he shakes his head. “Yes.”

“Not with you?”

This time Oskar actually frowns. “I’ll be staying with my dad. I, um, didn’t think any of the other players would want to share with their coach...”

“You’re right...” Luke says quickly. “Sorry. I-I just assumed.”

“Is everything okay?” Oskar’s eyes round. “I think there’s a motel near here. I could check if they have space.”

I stare at the carpeted floor. My whole body droops. My heart pounds. I’ve heard this conversation before. I’ve been unwanted before. I didn’t think it would happen...now.

Luke picks up all the bags. “Come, Sebastian. Let’s find our room.”

I dart my gaze to him, confused, and he smiles back at me, but everything is still off.

“Cool. I’ll leave you to it.” Oskar wanders away, heading to give other keys to other players.

I follow Luke. “I-I can carry my things.”

“I know you can,” Luke says lightly, as if he didn’t just try to get me to room with Oskar. “But you don’t need to with me here.”

I frown, but he marches to the elevator, then hits the button with his elbow. The elevator pings, and a few of the guys rush toward it. I move closer to Luke. More guys enter, and I press against the wall, trying not to touch Luke as the elevator zooms up.

Luke slides his gaze at me. His nostrils flare, and his face is stony. I hurry to our room once the elevator lands on our floor.

I want to tuck myself under the covers and pretend he doesn’t look angry, doesn’t look like he despises me. I want to sleep and pretend this evening didn’t happen, and the day ended after Luke’s hockey win, and I could pretend if we had to share rooms, it wouldn’t matter to him.

I fiddle with the plastic card, but my fingers tremble.

He frowns. “Are you cold?”

Thankfully, the key pod flashes green, and I hold the door open for Luke. “After you.”

Luke frowns, as if he wants to carry all my stuff, all his stuff, and hold the door open for me, but he gives a curt nod, then enters the room.

I follow after him, my heart pounding. This will be fine. I’ll go to bed, and we’ll pretend in the morning we never had to do this.

But this is nothing like last night’s suite.

This is the same hotel, but the hallway is narrower, the carpet worn, the luxurious wallpaper replaced with plain paint.

A thought occurs to me, and my steps falter. Surely not...

But then I see it: one bed. One queen bed.