Page 44 of Guarded Love

Wilder rolls his eyes. "Whipped."

"Like you wouldn't act the same way if you were dating someone," Knox says, dropping into one of the chairs.

"Bold of you to assume I'd ever settle down," Wilder responds back, but there's something off in his tone. Before I can analyze it further, Asher grabs the seat next to Knox, leaving me to take the chair facing the counter and giving me a perfect view of Levi greeting Hailey.

"What's everyone getting?" Asher asks, pulling out his wallet.

"The biggest coffee they have and whatever has the most calories," Wilder says, slouching in his chair. "Practice destroyed me."

"You say that after every practice," I point out. I’m still watching as Levi leans across the counter and says something that makes Hailey's face soften for a millisecond before returning to her usual stoic expression.

"Because every practice destroys me. It's a consistent problem." Wilder yawns and then stretches his neck to look at the menu board. "I think I'm getting the breakfast burrito. I’m so glad they added that to their menu. No, wait. A blueberry muffin. No. I’m getting both."

Knox snorts. "Your metabolism is going to catch up with you someday."

"And when it does, I'll deal with it." Wilder runs a hand through his hair. "Live in the now, bro."

I'm about to respond when Levi returns to the table. "Hailey says they're swamped, but she'll try to come say hi when she gets a break."

"She looked thrilled to see you," I say, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice.

Levi pulls a chair over and then plops down in it. "That was her happy face."

This turns into a back-and-forth between Wilder and Levi that I only half pay attention to. Instead, I pull out my phone to look over my schedule for today. Not that I didn’t check it when I woke up this morning just before getting ready for practice. I only have a couple more weeks until the semester ends, then the holidays will come and go, and then I’ll be on a plane to Puerto Rico.

Too bad I’m only prepared for two out of those three things.

12

WILLOW

I’m not fully sure why I didn’t expect the crowd to be going wild at this game when I originally agreed to meet Isla Johnson here, but I quickly learned my lesson. After all, why would the crowd be quieter when it’s the last hockey game of the semester?

The bleachers are packed. People are on their feet already and the puck hasn’t even dropped yet. Students in face paint scream across the rink and I hear chants that sound like, “Let’s Fucking Go, Red Wolves.” I do a double take when I see someone waving a giant cardboard cutout of my brother’s head.

What the actual fuck?

But you know what? Hell yeah.

Funny how I’ve avoided anything hockey related for years, and now I’ve been to two hockey games in less than a month.

“Willow!" I somehow hear Isla's voice and finally spot her waving from the media section. I make my way toward her and only have to dodge one guy whose beer sloshes dangerously close to me.

"This is insane," I say as I slide in beside her. She's got some of her camera gear spread out and I make sure not to disturb her process. “I thought Senior Night was ridiculous.”

"This is nothing." Isla laughs, adjusting her camera lens. "Wait until playoffs. Dad told me it makes these regular season games look like a cakewalk." She checks her settings, then looks up at me. "Thanks for coming here to meet up."

"No problem," I say, though my body language probably screams otherwise. "I had nothing better to do anyway, and this will allow me to add a few finishing touches to the article."

That's a lie. I have plenty to do like packing for winter break, finishing two papers, avoiding thinking about Blaise. I will say that being this close to the action due to Isla’s position is pretty neat though.

"I'll make sure to get you some great shots of the seniors for the article, and I can share their official headshots," Isla says, lifting her camera to snap a test shot of the ice. "So, article's almost done then?"

"Yeah, just a few tweaks." I fiddle with my press badge, turning it over in my hands. "Got all the quotes I needed besides you and Coach Johnson."

“Dad’s probably going to just end up emailing you his. But I can give you one. I’m honored you asked since I’ve only been the team photographer for the last couple of months.”

Hearing that Coach Johnson would more than likely email me when I was told I would get a quote from him here is slightly annoying, but I understand how busy he is. At least this wouldn’t be a complete waste. “I wanted a different perspective. Most wouldn’t even think to interview the team photographer. Which is weird because I figure you’ll probably know a whole bunch of things the guys don’t realize you know. Not that you’ll say anything negative."

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