"Too many people."
He nods in understanding.
"Why are you here?" I ask him.
"This is my house," he answers, surprising me.
Now I remember who he is. He's Talon Ward, the coach's son. He graduated two years ago and had a "bad boy" reputation around the school. There were rumors always going around about him getting caught smoking pot on school grounds. There was even one that said he got into a fight with the quarterback after he saw Talon getting a blowjob from his girlfriend. If I remember correctly, there was something about the school's secretary.
"I better get back inside and find my boyfriend," I say, heading back up the stairs.
"Don't let me scare you off, Kitten. I promise I don't bite."
"Kitten?" I ask him, abruptly turning back to him.
He's moved closer now. I can smell the smoke on his clothes and his woodsy cologne.
"You're all fluffy and cute, but I think you've got some claws under there somewhere," he says, tucking some of my curly hair behind my ear. I can see his eyes clearer now. They're a mesmerizing green.
I feel like a deer caught in the headlights, staring at this man. He's quite a few inches taller than me, though not as tall as Cole or Foster, with a lean body. Black tattoos cover both his arms, from his t-shirt sleeves to his hands.
"I was just about to head up to my room. You could come and show me just how sharp your claws are," Talon's voice is a low rumble, sending chills down my spine. I can't take my eyes away from his as I try to come up with why I need to tell him no.
"Blake, are you out here?" I hear Cole call from the deck above us. It makes me jump and breaks the spell Talon has on me.
"Uh…I got to go," I mumble out and hurry up the stairs, and Talon's dark chuckle follows me.
My body is on fire, and my mind is so confused.
Chapter 3
Now
Walking into the ice rink makes me nostalgic. The smell of the cold coming off the ice is the same every time. The atmosphere for this game is very different than what I’m used to, though. There’s an hour left before game time, and the stands are already almost full, but the mood is quiet and solemn. Everyone here is in mourning for someone they see as a hero.
Tiffany, Coach Ward’s wife, called me a few days ago to ask if I would be willing to take pictures of the ceremony for her. She’d heard through the grapevine of small-town gossip that I was a photographer in my spare time. My well-meaning best friend showed her pictures I’d taken of her wedding and Cora's newborn pictures. The fee we’d negotiated was substantial enough that I couldn’t turn it down, even if I’d be uncomfortable being here.
I unpack my camera and try to find where my best vantage point will be. The equipment was a gift from my mom, bought with a portion of my dad’s life insurance. She wanted me to be able to pursue my photography, but it wasn’t possible to keep up with the bills and build a new business. As I’m setting up, a tall brunette approaches me. She has perfect hair and make-up and a modest black dress and heels. I feel like a bum in my dark jeans, a nice blouse, and hair pulled up in a ponytail. I remind myself I'm here to work. As a photographer, I need to blend into the background, not stand out among the crowd.
"You must be Blake. I'm Tiffany Ward. Thank you so much for doing this for us," her voice is surprisingly warm and husky, not the high-pitched shrill I had been expecting.
"It's no problem. Mr. Ward was a legend to this town, and it's an honor you would ask me. I am so sorry for your loss."
"Thank you. If it would be better, you can go out on the ice. A few media outlets will be covering the event, and you're welcome to the section we've made for them. The ceremony will begin in about twenty minutes."
I follow her to where a few other photographers and a local news station's cameraman stand. I introduce myself to them and then set my equipment up, getting a feel for where everything will take place. My chest constricts as I remember watching my childhood love build his career in this building. Lucky for me, he won't be here tonight. His professional team is playing, so he won’t be flying in until early tomorrow morning for the funeral.
The ceremony begins with Assistant Coach Carlson, now the interim head coach, and continues until the end of the school year, thanking everyone for coming. He's acting as emcee tonight. He gives a short speech about working with Coach Ward and his greatness, bringing the crowd to tears for the first time.
Then, the Ward family is introduced, and I struggle to keep myself together and professional. I stare through the viewfinder of my camera and steady my shaking hands. I snap picture after picture of Tiffany and her daughter Lily, now ten, coming down the carpet. Lily is her mother's little twin with flowing dark locks and a regal demeanor.
Behind them struts Talon, with a stunning woman on his arm. Her hair is a mix of blue and purple waves, her bright blue eyes are lined dramatically, and her lips are painted red. She's introduced as his wife, Mia. I cringe, even though I knew he’d married a couple of years ago.
Locking eyes with Talon through the lens of my camera steals my breath. His green eyes still hold the spark of mischief and wicked promises. His black hair is longer now but not unkempt. His tattoos can be seen on his hands and creeping up his throat, past the collar of his shirt. Even with the pressed slacks, black button-up, and wife on his arm, he still gives off all the rebellious rockstar vibes.
I compose myself and take pictures during Tiffany's speech. As Lily says a few words about her dad, the crowd sobs again. Talon doesn't speak a word. He only raises his hand to everyone. They all go wild. Springbrook is proud of one of their brightest stars, even though they were less than supportive as he was growing up.
Next is the introduction of the fifteen alum players that have come tonight. All went on to have successful college careers, and some even excelled at the professional level. Foster Holland is presented about halfway through the pack. Though his injury in college ended his NHL dreams, he became a nutritionist and exercise guru. His brand focuses on keeping athletes, especially hockey players, fit and healthy. He's followed Cole in his career, personally working for him and sometimes the teams he plays for. I'm thrilled that he turned that challenge into a success for himself.
