Instead of making fun of me like I expect, they both take a quick glance at each other, and Silja tilts her head.
“That’s really sweet,” she says. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”
“Yeah, it seems like you two mean a lot to each other,” Nils adds.
“Hold up, why do you think I mean something to him?”
Nils rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on. After every single game we play, I see you smiling at your phone in the locker room. Who’s texting you?”
“It’s Luke, and I get irrationally happy whenever I text him.”
“Hmm. You smile immediately when you check your phone, so that means he textedyoufirst,” says Nils.
“Yeah, he always congratulates me on how I played, even if I barely had any ice time.”
Nils clasps his hands together. “So he watches our games.” He isn’t asking, he’s making a statement. A true statement.
Silja recoils like someone sprayed water in her face. “Okay, let me get something straight. It’s been almost two months since you got back. He watches your games from across the world. He texts you first. He. Likes. You. Back.”
“What does it matter? Luke isn’t here.” I glower into my beer. “Fuck catching feelings, seriously.”
“You don’t seem like the kind of person to get attached so hard,” Silja says.
Nils agrees. “This Luke person must be a special guy.”
“He is. Luke is kind, funny, and holy hell, he’s smoking hot.”
Nils lifts an eyebrow. “He’s hot, huh? I mean, of course he is, but still.” He faces Silja. “Assess him.”
“Yeah, Erik, I think we need to see a picture.”
“Okay, fine. This—” I pull my phone out and go to the second picture on Luke’s social media. “—is Luke.” I slide the phone across the table, and they inspect the photo of Luke at his university graduation, wearing a suit and a charming smirk.
Nils speaks first. “Okay, I don’t need Silja to assess. He’s something else.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Silja squints at the screen. “Hold on, there’s more. What’s the picture above this one?”
Oh no.
She scrolls up, and two pairs of eyes widen as they bore into my phone.
It’sthatpicture—the hot tub photo that Luke posted a week ago on the night I accidentally fell asleep on a video call with him. When I woke up at three in the morning to a post notification, I zoomed in to inspect his annoyingly sculpted muscles like the thirsty idiot I am, instead of going back to sleep.
“Yeah.” Silja starts and falters, searching for words.
Nils finishes her sentence. “It’s very clear why you aren’t over him yet.”
“Do you flirt with him at all?” Silja asks.
“No, I don’t flirt with him!” I scoff. “What the hell would that do?”
Leaning toward me, Nils rests his head on his hands. “He’ll probably flirt back, but the worst case is you get some practice in for someone else. No harm to be had.”
Silja smiles and finishes her drink. “Go on, flirt with him, Erik. Have a little harmless fun. Who knows what might happen?”
As the three of us order another round, I sit back and get lost in my head. Flirt with Luke over text? Nah, I don’t think I will. Nils and Silja mean well, but I’m out here trying to avoid heartbreak.
By the time I get back to my apartment an hour later, I’m thoroughly sloshed, and I flop onto my bed and check my phone. Luke hasn’t sent me anything, so without a second thought, I fire off a series of texts.
