Page 114 of Guarded Love

His response comes immediately.

Blaise: Yes. Where do you want to meet?

I quickly type out the location where we should meet and grab my coat, phone, and purse. Before I head out the door I walk over to my closet and start digging through it quickly. It’s then that I find something I forgot I had until this very moment.

One of Blaise’s jerseys. I quickly toss it on the bed along with my other stuff just before I start removing the shirt I already have on.

Maybe there’s a chance I can salvage this day after all.

34

WILLOW

Two weeks, four days, a get together at the hockey house, and loads of cryptic text messages since we left Puerto Rico, and I find myself driving to the same Crestwood overlook where bored upperclassmen come to drink, fuck, or think about if there are other life forms outside of our universe. It's the middle of winter, and the trees give off a creepy vibe against the sky that is slowly turning to night. The lake is frozen solid, the parking lot a patchwork of black ice and snow. Nobody is out here.

And that’s the whole point.

I keep my engine running while I check my phone. No new messages. The silence between us lately is its own kind of communication. When I see headlights in my rearview mirror, coming up the hill behind me, my pulse flips. I already know it's Blaise, but I stare the vehicle down to confirm.

His car pulls up a few spaces away and I watch as his headlights that were cutting through the evening light go dark. My heart hammers against my ribs as I watch his silhouette through the windshield. Even from this distance, I can see thetension in his shoulders, the way his hands grip the steering wheel like he's fighting the same internal war I am.

The cold air seeps through my car windows, but my body runs hot because I know what’s coming. The memories of what he did to me in Puerto Rico have haunted me ever since, and I can’t wait for another round. It's been too long. Way too long.

I undo my seatbelt and grab my phone with shaky fingers. I somehow manage to quickly send him a message.

Me: Hi.

The response is immediate. I watch his door open before my phone even shows the message as delivered. He steps out into the frigid air, his breath forming clouds as he walks toward my passenger side.

When he reaches my car, I unlock the doors. He slides into the passenger seat, and for a moment, we just sit there in silence. This is the first time we’ve been alone since we hopped back on the plane taking us to Virginia, and it’s as if we don’t know what to say or do. Blaise pulls off his beanie, and I can’t help but think that his blond hair is about to get even more messy if I have my way.

"Hey," he says quietly, his voice sounds rougher than usual.

"Hey yourself." I do my best to turn in my seat to face him properly, but having a steering wheel in front of me makes that difficult. “Just got done with the call with Leo’s management company.”

“Doesn’t sound like it went that well.”

“Well, it went okay on the surface,” I say. “His manager was polite. Said all the right things. Promised to escalate it internally.” I pause. “But it was all bullshit. No follow-up questions. No sense of urgency. It felt like he was just there so he didn’t get fired. He did promise to reach back out to us withany findings so at least there’s that. But I’m not sure how much I believe him.”

I hesitate for a second, then add, “There was another person on the call named Talia from the company as well. She didn’t say much, but I’m not going to lie it felt good to have her there because it seemed like she got it.”

Blaise is quiet for a few seconds, then runs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to find the right words to say. “That’s good and hopefully the next thing you’ll hear is that he’s getting the boot. I hate that you even had to make that call,” he adds, glancing over at me. “You shouldn’t have to be the one chasing accountability.”

I study him for a moment and can sense the irritation and anger radiating off of him in waves. He’s angry for me. But there’s nothing I can do about the situation right now and I don’t want this to completely ruin this precious time we have together.

“Anyway,” I say, nudging his knee with mine. “How was practice?”

"Rough. Coach is pushing us hard for the next series coming up." He shifts, his knee bumping against the center console, but doesn’t comment on my changing the subject. "Knox mentioned you."

My stomach tightens cause I’m not sure where this is going. "What did he say?"

“Thanked me for looking out for you while in Puerto Rico, which is odd that he just brought it up. Too bad he doesn’t know how well I look after you, huh?”

This is the last thing I expected Blaise to say and I can’t deny that it takes my horniness up another level. I can already see where this is going, which is what I expected, but we should get the small talk out of the way.

"How's the team handling the workload?" I ask, trying to steer us into safer territory, Thankfully, it works.

"Fine. Good. Same as always." His answers come quickly, as if he’s distracted. He's staring out the windshield at the frozen lake now, but I can feel him watching me from the corner of his eye.

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