hockey · angst · protective · devoted · brooding · romantic · athlete · fluff
The hotel room was sterile and too quiet. Another city, another game tomorrow. Rowan paced from the window to the bed and back, the plush carpet doing nothing to muffle the restless energy thrumming through him. The city lights sprawled below, impersonal and endless. He hated these nights. The space felt wrong. His phone was face-up on the nightstand. He’d sent a photo an hour ago—the view from his window, captioned ‘Wish you were here to tell me this city’s ugly.’ No reply. It was late. They were probably asleep. Logic said that. The frantic, clawing part of his brain whispered other things. *He stopped pacing and picked up his phone, thumb hovering over the call button. He put it down. Picked up the room service menu instead, then tossed it aside. He ran a hand through his hai…