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Authors: Camille Dixon

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BOOK: Picture Perfect
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“Nope. Erik told me if you’re a student, you just show them your ID and they let you in for free.”

Everything inside me screamed to go while my heart and my mind duked it out,
one screaming to play it safe and not stray from the sidelines of life while the other yearned for a taste of freedom. “Okay.” The word slipped out before I realized what I’d said.

Tam’s face lit up. “Really? You’re coming?”

“Um -”

“Yeah, girl! It’s about time you had some fun. I promise I’ll drop you back off at home before I head out with Erik, okay?”

I sighed, even giving her a small smile. “Okay. Thanks, Tam.”

“Don’t even mention it, babe,” she said, winking at me with a fox
y grin.

The car shuddered whenever she switched gears. As we drove
, I tried to ignore the rabid butterflies making my stomach flip, and telling myself over and over that I was only going for the hockey.

 

CHAPTER 11

 

Devin

 

THE ROAR OF THE crowd was deafening.

Over the course of
two long hours, our teams were tied, resulting in a shoot-out. Neither side had had much luck scoring one up over the other, and it was my shot at the goal. The determining play, the win or lose shot that could sink the game for us or send us to the play-offs.

The noise seemed to die out as I skated to my place, everything slowing to a memory around me as I positioned my stick. My heart beat loudly in my ears, one thunderous thump at a time, accented by the breath coming steadily out of my mouth. Sweat dribbled into my eyes, stinging my vision and blurring it before I blinked them away. I went into what Erik called “the Zone,” a black tunnel of awesome that only held room for me, the puck, and the son of a bitch protecting the goal down the ice.

I hesitated, unsure. This game should have been an easy win. Normally we schooled this team. We were faster, more strategic. And yet, my mind had wandered off in a thousand different directions, from my hanging-by-a-shoestring family, to Darcy, to photography, and to her, Angel. It always came back to her.

“Focus. Come on, Devin. Focus!” Coach yelled. “Take the shot!”

It was all on me.

Take the shot.

Mentally prepping myself, I charged down the ice, courting the puck as I went. I barely heard the noise increase. The goalie crouched, prepared to defend his team’s honor.

But he was going to fail. There was an opening, barely big enough, right beside his left skate.

Just big enough for a puck to go through.

Angling myself, I inwardly smiled like the wicked wolf about to eat Red Riding Hood when a flash of red caught the arena lights. God help me, my eyes flashed up for only a split second.

It was her. The Angel.

She
stood in the entrance behind the goal, staring at me and holding her breath.

My body’s movement’s became mechanical, the clack of the stick striking the puck surprising even me. It felt like someone had snatched my body, and I was standing on the sideline, watching it all play out.

The puck soared through the air. I knew before it even got close that the angle was off by about an inch, slamming right into the edge of the goalie’s skate and bouncing back out onto the ice.

The buzzer rang and the opposing team’s crowd went nuts. And hundreds of disappointed eyes stared at me.

I should have felt disappointed, shame, anything. But all I could feel was relief. Relief this game was over. Relief I could finally get the hell away from Darcy. Relief I wouldn’t have to deal with Brayden anymore. And a small trickle of something foreign and frightening at seeing my muse staring back at me, with understanding and sympathy in her eyes.

Coach was still shaking his head by the time we all circled the ice, exchanging “congrats” and “good games” with the other team before heading for the locker room. The tense, electric sizzle of anger rode the thin hallway as we walked, not talking. Someone shoved me, and my head slammed against the wall, followed by snickers. I turned, expecting Brayden but finding only my teammates, a wicked glint in their eyes.

Coach burst into the room, singling me out. “We should have won that game. You had that shot! What the hell happened?”

Thick silence filled the air after his question as I fought to keep my face from heating. “I don’t know, sir.”

He turned his head, as if he hadn’t heard me, and stepped closer. “
You don’t know
if you’ll win the lottery.
You don’t know
if you’ll die in a car accident on the way home. What do you mean
you don’t know
why you missed what should have been an easy shot?”

Once again, all eyes were on me. Some tried to look away, but most looked on with glee as Coach skewered me. They had turned on me, all of ‘em. Just like they always
did.

Numbness underscored by anger took over, and I set my jaw as I glared back at Coach. “Exactly what I mean. I. Don’t. Know.”

Now
everyone froze, holding their breaths as Coach’s face turned bright red. “I see,” he finally said.

Without warning, he slammed his fist against one of the lockers, denting it. Just about the whole room jumped. We were used to him venting by hitting stuff, but it still caught us off guard.

Seething, he stormed out of the room, pitching his playbook to the floor as he did.

With the show over, the others didn’t dally. Brayden, carrying a smir
k, looped an arm around a timid Darcy as they walked out. I watched her go with sinking despair, knowing a week ago that was me with my arm around her.

The moment my brother left, I grabbed my towel and jumped in the shower, hiding out there until the noise in the locker room died down to nothing. Erik was waiting for me when I came out, his face filled with concern.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said tightly, all my movements jerky as I fumbled with the lock on my locker. The hot water had done little to soothe my nerves.

An attractive girl with short-cropped black hair lingered by the door, talking with someone. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I mean, you barely know him.”

A pause. “I’ll be fine. You go have a good time with Romeo.”

The voice sounded familiar, but it was too subdued for me to clearly distinguish it.

“Sapphire?” I asked dryly.

“Yeah.” Erik sheepishly ran a hand through his hair, lingering.

I growled a sigh, pulling my boxers on, then my pants. “You don’t have to say anything. I screwed up. I’m sorry, okay?”

“I wasn’t asking for an apology,” Erik said calmly.

I didn’t deserve a friend like him, someone who navigated the stormy waters of my temper tantrums with veteran’s grace. I didn’t deserve anybody.

“Well, have fun on your date.” I tried smiling at him, but my lips barely moved. Everything felt too heavy, like the weight of the world was dragging me down.

He reached for me. “Devin -”

“Just go,” I said quietly.

Erik released a breath, clenching his outstretched hand into a fist, before nodding and turning around. He said something to Sapphire before I heard retreating footsteps and all was silent again.

I thought I was alone when a boot heel clicked behind me, and I froze, slowly turning around to see my muse standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” she said lazily.

I let my eyes rove over her body. Tall brown boots
hugged her thin legs. I skimmed the short dark-red skirt, nude tights, and cream-colored sweater hanging partially off one of her shoulders, revealing a red bra strap. The image of my going to her and pushing her body up against the wall while I kissed her senseless filled my head, and I blinked, startled by it.

“Hey,” I replied gruffly, whipping my head back around and busying myself with pulling on my T-shirt, then my Sanhope hoodie.

“I… came to watch the game,” she said lamely.

My lips turned up slightly at the corners. “I noticed.”

Darcy would have said, “I’m sorry you lost the game,” but there were no spoken sympathies from her. It was fucking amazing.

“Why?” I asked, my back still turned to her.

“Why what?”

“Why did you come?”

“Because I like hockey?” she said with irritation. “Because it’s a free country?”

I yanked on some socks. “You get defensive easily, don’t you?”

“I… I do not.”

I smirked. “Okay.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Shoes came on next. “It just seems like you look for an excuse to start an argument.”

Her heels clicked as her weight shifted.

She didn’t say anything, and I couldn’t blame her. I was being an ass. “I’m glad you came,” I said, dropping all pretenses.

I heard her suck in a little breath, and when I glanced back at her, those green orbs had gone wide, staring at me with something akin to fear.

She blinked and cleared her throat. “Yeah, me too.”

I shut my locker, swinging my bag over my shoulder. “And thanks for stopping by after the game.”

“Yeah. No problem.”

Silence. Her foot was twitching, and she looked everywhere but at me. I thought maybe she’d leave and run as far away from here as she could, but she stayed, and I had no idea why. She looked almost nervous.

A guy like me didn’t deserve a girl like her. Darcy had already proven that.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she said quickly, “Well, see you this weekend.”

Seeing her start to leave, words tumbled out of my mouth before I could think.

“Do you want to go somewhere?”

I had no idea where that came from. I didn’t want to know, because knowing would likely make this harder in the end when whatever it was didn’t work out. So for now I would pretend this wasn’t something more than I made it out to be.

My heart nearly stopped when she paused, adjusting the position of her purse on her shoulder.

A hesitant smile spread across her face. “Yeah, sure. I’d like that.”

CHAPTER 12

 

Devin

 

I DROVE US TO the square, aiming to catch a late night dinner and maybe a brew from Logan’s because I thought it would be the last place I’d run in to anybody I knew. Even miles away from the arena, my face still burned from Coach’s outburst.

Angel had barely spoken. Her hands twisted the hem of her skirt, wrinkling it. You’d think she’d never seen this part of the city before with the way her gaze remained glued to the window.

Some pop singer I didn’t know the name of belted out some shit about unrequited love and breaking hearts over the radio, which was doing little to mask the silence stretching between us. Wetting my lips, I inhaled a breath, gearing up another attempt at conversation. “Did you work tonight?”

“Yeah.”

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel at her broken record answer. “Do they always let you off early? Isn’t it only open from seven to two?”

“Sometimes we get off early,” she said, each word edged with warning not to push the topic.

Intrigued, I looked at her sidelong. Even her profile was hot. It made her look feminine and sleek. Making a mental note to photograph her that way, I said, “You seem on edge.”

She tried to hide the fact she stiffened, but not before I caught it. “I’m just tired,” she said dismissively.

“Is that why you’ve tied your skirt into knots?”

This time she actually turned to glare at me. “You don’t know when to back off do you?”

“What can I say? You fascinate me.”

There it was, the fear in her eyes again. “So how far is this place anyway?”

Though the hostility was still in her voice, at least she was saying more than one word to me. “About another three miles away. We’re close. You ever been there?”

She shook her head. “I don’t have a whole lot of time for outings.”

“Me either.”

“You work?”

“Sort of. I sell my photographs and do the occasional wedding.”

“You like wedding photography?”

“It pays the rent.”

She nodded, chewing on her lip again.

“I’m guessing dancing is the same for you. A way to pay bills,” I ventured, keeping my tone as nonchalant as possible. Something told me that one wrong question, and she’d clam up again.

Her heel began tapping and her posture tightened. It hadn’t relaxed since she’d gotten in the car with me, as if she couldn’t wait to get out. Her
hand slid into her purse, resting there. “You could say that.”

By now I was used to the bitterness in her voice. It was the sadness I heard in those four words that made me listen more intensely. “Do you go to school? At Sanhope?”

She nodded, seeming to perk up. “I’m an education major.”

“What year?”

BOOK: Picture Perfect
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ads

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