It was supposed to be a lazy Sunday.

You’d stayed over the night before — fell asleep during the third period of some random NHL game, legs tangled up with his on the couch, his sweatshirt far too big on your body. Gabe had made some joke about the “domestic vibes being far more than he could handle” before disappearing to crash at his girlfriend’s, and you and Will had just laughed, half-asleep.

Now it was morning. The off-campus apartment smelled like stale pizza and the cheap candle Will kept lit to make it not smell like a locker room.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table and he grabbed it without thinking, thumb swiping across the screen.

And then he froze.

You were sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, eating cereal from the box, but you stopped, spoon halfway to your mouth.

Will didn’t answer your confused expression right away. He just looked at you, like he was trying to figure out if this was real.

“They want me.”

Your stomach dipped. “San Jose?” you asked.

He nodded. “Summer development camp,” he explained. “They have an extra spot. They’re flying me out after finals.”

You smiled automatically. Of course you did. He deserved this. He’d earned this.

But somewhere behind your ribs, something pinched.

It was too fast. It was. One second he was pulling all-nighters to finish a psych paper and yelling at his teammates during line changes, and now—

Now, he had somewhere else to be. As happy as you were for him, something about it also made you… uneasy, to say the least.