Page 29 of Guarded Love

“Because you care more than you want to admit.”

"I don't care about Blaise Dalton," I insist, tearing off another piece of muffin. "I care about completing my assignment properly. As I just said."

"Mmhmm."

"Stop mmhmm-ing me. It's irritating."

"And you're deflecting." She dusts crumbs from her fingers. "But fine, let's talk solutions instead of feelings. Have you texted him to set up a one-on-one?"

I fiddle with my coffee cup. "Not yet."

"Why not?"

"Because..." The words stick in my throat. How do I explain that texting Blaise feels like opening a door I've kept firmly shut for years? That the thought of sitting across from him, just the two of us, makes me want to lose my shit?

"Because you're avoiding it," Ari finishes for me.

"I'm not avoiding anything. I'm just..." I gesture vaguely at my laptop. "Prioritizing."

"Right. Prioritizing staring at your screen and having a mental breakdown in public."

I glare at her. "You're not helping."

"Actually, I am." She reaches across the table and flips my laptop open. "Text him now. Set it up. Rip the band-aid off."

“I don’t have his number.”

The look on Ari’s face tells me she knows I’m purposely being obtuse. “Email him. Text your brother for it.”

"But—"

"No buts. You need this for your article. He's just another source. Treat it like any other interview."

Just another source. If only it were that simple. If only Blaise Dalton were just another hockey player and not the guy who kissed me senseless in his room years ago, then pretended I didn't exist and just so happens to be my brother’s teammate, best friend, and one of his roommates.

I sigh and pull my laptop closer to me. "Fine."

Emailing seems to be the most professional way to do this, plus it meant not having to go through my brother to get his number. I open my email, fingers hovering over the keyboard. What's the most professional way to ask someone you've been actively avoiding for years to sit down for an interview?

"Don't overthink it," Ari says, reading my mind as usual. "Just be direct."

"I'm being direct," I mutter, typing out "Interview Request" in the subject line. Professional. Detached. Perfect.

To: [email protected]

Subject: Interview Request - Senior Hockey Feature

Blaise,

As you know, I'm writing a feature on the senior hockey players for the Crestwood Chronicle. I interviewed the rest of the seniors last night but understand you couldn't make it due to a prior commitment.

I'd like to schedule a brief interview to include your perspective in the piece. Please let me know your availability this week.

Thanks,

Willow Sanchez

Reporter, Crestwood Chronicle

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