Page 35 of The Prince and the Puck
The rest of Rock’s session went just fine. He was happy when we finally asked him to take off his jersey and pads and pose looking over his right shoulder, his hockey gear still on display.
It took several hours to get through the Wombats’ lineup. And because there were more than twelve players, we were obviously going to have more than twelve pictures—something I hadn’t really considered. I didn’t want to be the one picking and choosing who made it into the final twelve months. I made a note to talk to Joey about it. Of course, it was possible some of the pictures would be unusable—like the one where Freddy Elks insisted on bending down, looking between his legs while standing on his skates, and sticking his tongue out. Not very sexy.
Declan was the last to shoot.
He skated onto the ice, looking taller and broader than usual, thanks to the skates and pads. And for a second, he took my breath away.
Literally.
The prince was so handsome, I often forgot what kind of effect he had on me. And if I didn’t steel myself properly before seeing him, there were usually a few seconds where I found it difficult to think, breathe, or speak.
“Lizzy, are you okay?” Declan had spoken to me. I hadn’t noticed, because I was overwhelmed.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“So, how do you want me?”
Oh, the ways I could answer that question.
But no. This was my job. Part of my job. At least, this was my fake job. And I was going to take it seriously. Declan was not asking me how I wanted him in general.
“I’ll defer to Janice. She’s the expert.”
“I’m an expert at taking shots of kids with bunny ears in front of Easter balloon arches,” Janice whispered behind her hand.
We’d been battling Janice’s impostor syndrome all afternoon. It didn’t help that she found every single Wombats player attractive—even Garrett Ackerman, who was literally missing two of his bottom front teeth.
In the end, Declan was a natural. Maybe it was all those royal family portraits he’d sat for as a kid, but he seemed to instinctively understand what the camera wanted. When Janice suggested he strip down to his boxer briefs and come back out with just his jersey and skates, I thought I might have a heart attack.
The boxer briefs did nothing to hide the fact that the royal jewels were more plentiful than I had imagined. Declan, for his part, was not shy. He wasn’t Rock Stevens in terms of exhibitionism, but he wasn’t embarrassed either. He turned and posed, waving the package around until I was struggling to breathe.
“I think that’s enough,” Janice said. I could have kissed her in gratitude.
Declan looked at me then, and it was hard to hold his gaze, knowing that he was standing there nearly naked from the waist down. It was also hard to not let my gaze skitter lower.
But I think I managed admirably.
“Lizzy, will you wait for me? I’m gonna get changed.”
It surprised me that Declan hadn’t figured out by now that I always waited for him—or that I followed him home to make sure no one else followed him home.
“Yeah, of course.” I ignored the raised eyebrows Janice was shooting my way, but as soon as Declan disappeared toward the locker room, she had questions.
“So… you and the winger. Are you a thing?”
“No,” I told her. “We’re just… we’re friends.”
“Sure,” she said. “You seem very interested in your friend.”
The blush was back. “No, no, I’m not. I hope I didn’t give him that impression.”
“You wouldn’t be alone,” she said. “’Cause I’m pretty sure he’s only got eyes for you too.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I didn’t.
Later, when Declan found me outside, he hesitated, like he was nervous about something. “There’s a party tonight over at Klaus’s house,” he said. “I wondered if you might wanna come with me?”
I wanted to scream yes. I wanted to run to him, throw my arms around his neck, wrap my legs around his waist, and show him yes. But I settled for, “Yes.”
