7. Eli
CHAPTER 7
ELI
Wind carried the crisp bite of early fall as I stepped onto the dirt path winding through Haven Hollow Park. Golden leaves clung stubbornly to branches, the last defiant holdouts before Michigan’s inevitable winter. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my hoodie, the weight of my phone a familiar presence.
I’d never been the guy who stopped to take pictures of scenery—hell, back in L.A., my camera roll was mostly screenshots and random selfies my sister took when she stole my phone. But something about this place made me want to capture it. Maybe it was part of the whole reinvention thing. New town, new school, new major, new… me.
Lifting my phone, I framed the lake on my screen. Sunlight bounced off the water, turning the surface into liquid gold. A few people were out—some jogging, a couple walking their dogs. Normal. Peaceful. I snapped a few shots, adjusting the angles, playing with the composition. When I lowered the phone, my fingers itched to post one. My Instagram had been practically dead for months, but maybe?—
A low, familiar voice cut through the quiet.
“Didn’t take you for a photographer.”
I startled, nearly dropping my phone. Turning, I found Niall standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t in his usual hoodie-and-joggers combo. Instead, a fitted black thermal stretched across broad shoulders, sleeves shoved up to reveal forearms dusted with light hair. His ever-present scowl sat in place, but something flickered in his expression—curiosity? Amusement?
I fought the grin tugging at my lips. “Didn’t take you for someone who sneaks up on people.”
“Didn’t sneak.” He shrugged. “You weren’t paying attention.”
Fair. I’d been too caught up in my little creative moment.
I slipped my phone into my hoodie pocket and leaned against the railing at Summit Pier. “What are you doing here? Didn’t peg you as a nature guy.”
Niall exhaled sharply, almost like a laugh. “I skate here sometimes.” He nodded toward the lake. “Not now, obviously.”
“Damn, I was hoping to see you do a triple axel.”
His mouth twitched, but he shook his head, exasperated. “Wrong sport, genius.”
I smirked, pleased to have cracked the fortress even a little. “So, what? You just stand here brooding at the water?”
“Something like that.” His gaze flicked over to me. “You actually into photography, or just bored?”
I hesitated, then pulled my phone back out and flipped the screen toward him. “Figured I’d start posting again. Just for fun.”
Beside me, Niall shifted, the quiet crunch of his steps against the dirt trail anchoring me to the moment. I was hyperaware of him in a way I hadn’t been before—of the solid weight of his presence, the faint scent of clean soap and something vaguely crisp, like winter waiting just beyond the trees. He radiated warmth despite the cool bite of the breeze, his broad shoulders blocking the sunlight for half a second as he stepped closer.
He took a second, peering at the image. “Not bad.”
“High praise from Captain Sunshine.”
Niall rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets, looking out over the water. A comfortable silence stretched between us, the kind that didn’t demand filling.
I tilted my head toward the nearby trail winding up a gentle hill. “You ever hiked that?”
Niall followed my gaze. “Yeah. It’s easy. Why?”
“Give me the grand tour?” I flashed him a hopeful grin.
He hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. But if you slow me down, I’m leaving you behind.”
“Noted. Let’s go, oh wise and noble guide.”
His responding grunt was pure Niall, but he started walking, and I fell into step beside him. As we climbed the trail, I took in the surroundings—the crunch of leaves under our shoes, the scent of damp earth, the way the light filtered through the thinning canopy. It was different from L.A. in every possible way, and I liked it.
A flicker of movement caught my eye. I turned just in time to spot a squirrel scampering onto a nearby rock, twitching its fluffy tail as it studied me with unbothered curiosity. My heart leapt with excitement. I’d seen squirrels before, obviously, but not like this. Not so close, so casual in its little woodland life.
I moved carefully, fumbling for my phone. “Holy crap,” I whispered, barely breathing as I snapped a picture. The squirrel twitched its nose, nibbling something between its tiny paws. I grinned, studying its every detail—the tiny claws, the alert eyes, the whiskers that twitched every time it chewed.
Niall watched me, unimpressed. “You good?”
“I’ve never seen one like this up close,” I admitted. “It’s just… doing its thing.”
“They’re everywhere.”
“Not where I’m from.”
He shook his head like I was a lost cause, but I caught the smallest hint of a smile before he turned back toward the trail.
“So,” I said, camera poised as I caught a shot of the lake from the higher vantage point, “tell me something about yourself. Something not hockey-related.”
He side-eyed me. “No.”
I laughed. “Come on. One thing.”
Silence.
“So, you liked the pancakes, right?” I asked, tilting my head toward him.
Niall exhaled, more breath than sigh. “They were fine.”
I gasped, clutching my chest in mock betrayal. “ Fine ? I slaved over that batter.”
“Mixing flour and eggs is hardly slaving.”
“Excuse you, those pancakes were perfection.”
He huffed a breath—barely a sound, but enough to make me suspect he wasn’t quite as unimpressed as he wanted me to believe. “They were good.”
I grinned. “Damn right they were. I like to cook.”
He glanced at me then, not quite turning his head, just a flick of his gaze in my direction. “Hm.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just didn’t expect that.”
I smirked. “What about you? What’s something I wouldn’t expect?”
He went silent for a beat. Then, in a voice like he already regretted saying it, “I build model ships.”
I blinked, the answer so unexpected I almost missed the way the tops of his ears darkened. “Like… tiny boats?”
He scowled. “Yes, tiny boats.”
A slow grin spread across my face. “That’s kinda badass.”
Niall looked away, feigning indifference, but the stiffness in his jaw had softened. “It’s just a hobby.”
“Well, I demand to see one.”
“Not happening.”
“We’ll see.”
Niall shook his head but kept walking, and I kept snapping pictures, each one somehow feeling like another piece of this new life I was slowly building.
As we reached the end of the trail, I slowed my steps, scrolling through the dozens of photos I’d taken. I bit my lip, narrowing them down. Definitely the lake. The squirrel—because who didn’t love a cute animal pic? And one of the trail, for good measure. After some minor edits, I typed a caption: Not bad for a morning hike. 8/10. Would be 10/10 if I didn’t have to wake up early.
Satisfied, I hit Post. Then, before I could overthink it, I turned to Niall. “Hey, what’s your handle?”
“My what?”
“Your Insta. Come on, don’t tell me you don’t have one.”
He looked vaguely uncomfortable. “I do. Just don’t use it much.”
“Perfect. Time to change that.” I smirked. “What is it?”
Niall hesitated, then muttered something unintelligible.
I blinked. “What?”
He sighed, his shoulders rising and falling with exaggerated reluctance. “N.Caldwell.42.”
I typed it in and grinned when his near-empty profile popped up. No posts. Just a blurry profile pic that looked like it had been taken by accident. “Wow. Riveting content.”
“Shut up.”
I followed him anyway. “Follow me back.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes, obviously. It’s in the roommate contract.”
Niall huffed out a breath. “There was no contract.”
“There is now.”
Niall sighed the sigh of a man who had accepted his fate. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. He opened the app, found my profile, and tapped ‘Follow back’ to return the favor. “Happy?”
“Ecstatic.”
He muttered something under his breath, but there was no real bite to it. And when we headed back down the trail, the silence between us felt lighter somehow.
The day wasn’t supposed to mean anything. But maybe it did.