Page 47 of Guarded Love

Fuck. That’s the last thing I should be thinking when it comes to my brother’s best friend who rejected me years ago.

13

WILLOW

Imanage to push those thoughts to the back of my mind and straighten my shoulders. I’m prepared for whatever he’s going to throw at me.

"Sanchez," he says.

"Dalton," I reply.

“Here to complete your article or to write another one?"

"Same one. Sports isn't my beat." I resist the urge to fidget with my bag. "Congratulations on the win."

"Thanks," he says, but his blue eyes say a whole lot more. They stay locked on mine for another beat before he gestures to the mark on his jaw. "Worth it, though."

I find myself nodding before I can stop myself. "That hit you laid out in the second period was...impressive."

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly. "You actually watched the game?"

"Hard not to when I'm sitting in the media section."

"Right," he says, running his free hand through his damp hair. "Journalism duties."

The hallway feels smaller suddenly. I'm also very aware of how close we're standing and what this could look like if thewrong person walked up on us. Not to mention I’m supposed to hate him.

Supposed to? I do.

Blaise opens his mouth to say something else when a burst of laughter echoes down the hallway. We both turn to see Wilder making his way to the locker room.

"Anyway," I say quickly, desperate to end whatever moment was building between us. "I should let you go. You probably want to shower."

His eyes widen slightly at my comment, and I immediately want to crawl into a hole. "I mean—you know—after the game—" I stammer.Calm the fuck down, Wills.

"I know what you meant," he says, and there's that twitch at the corner of his mouth again. Not quite a smile, but something close to it.

"Dalton!" Coach Johnson's voice bounces off the walls but it’s coming from further down the hallway. "Need you for a minute."

Blaise nods in acknowledgment, then turns back to me. "See you around."

"Yeah," I get out and I do everything in my power to stop myself from watching as he walks away.

What the hell was that? One minute I'm enjoying hockey like a normal person, which is weird in itself. And the next I'm...what? Noticing the way sweat makes Blaise's hair curl slightly at the nape of his neck? Pathetic.

"Earth to Willow," Isla's voice cuts through my thoughts.

I jump because she's standing beside me, and I hadn’t heard her approach.

"Fine," I say too quickly. "Perfectly fine.”

"Uh…okay,” Isla says. "Bailey should be here soon with whoever this content creator is. I'm hoping it won't take long."

I nod, grateful for the change of topic. I’m glad she doesn’t know me as well as Ari does because she would have given methe third degree. "Maybe I can catch Coach Johnson before he gets too wrapped up in post-game stuff."

"Good luck with that." Isla laughs. "Dad's probably already deep in stats and game footage. But we can try."

We start walking toward the coaching offices when I hear a familiar voice that makes my blood run cold.

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