Chapter 5
SCARLETT
I GET THE EMAIL WHILE I’m eating breakfast in the dining hall. The subject line reads Team Photographer Position, and I open it immediately.
We are pleased to offer you the position of team photographer for Northstone Hockey.
I read it once and close my laptop. It worked! Gabriel must’ve pulled some strings to make sure I got this job since I didn’t even have to interview for it, which means he thinks he’s in control.
Perfect.
AS I WALK INTO THE athletic center with my bag over my shoulder, I think about how carefully I picked what to wear. Jeans and a Northstone hoodie are casual but professional. It’s the kind of look that says I’m here to work, not to impress anyone.
Coach is waiting for me in the hallway. He’s a tall man with graying hair and a no-nonsense expression, but he shakes my hand firmly and gives me a small smile.
“Scarlett. I’m glad to have you on board. The team’s getting ready in the locker room. I’ll introduce you, and then we can start with the profile photos before practice.”
“Sounds good.”
He leads me down a hallway and through a set of doors into the locker room. The space is loud with conversation and laughter. Players are getting changed, taping their sticks, and joking around with each other.
Coach claps his hands twice, and the noise dies down.
“Listen up. This is Scarlett. She’s our new team photographer, so you’ll be seeing a lot of her at practices and games. Treat her with respect, and do her whatever she needs to get her job done.”
There are a few nods and murmurs of acknowledgment, and then Gabriel steps forward. His grin is wide and easy, as if this is the best news he’s heard all day.
“Welcome to the team, Scarlett,” he says, and his voice is smooth and warm.
“Thanks,” I say. “I’m looking forward to working with all of you.”
The other players introduce themselves, and I smile and nod at each one, trying to memorize their names and faces. Taj is the one who threw the party. Cory is the guy from the quad. There’s a goalie named Ron, who seems quiet, and a forward named Leonardo, who won’t stop cracking jokes.
They seem friendly enough, and a few of them ask about my camera and what kind of shots I’m planning to take. I answer their questions, acting as if I’m just thrilled to be part of the team.
But the whole time, I can feel Gabriel watching me. His eyes never leave my face, and his grin stays plastered on his lips.
Coach clears his throat. “All right, Scarlett’s going to take profile photos before you guys hit the ice. Line up outside, and we’ll get this done quickly. Equipment room has a camera setup for you, Scarlett.”
I follow Coach to a small room where professional camera gear is waiting. A high-end DSLR, several lenses, and lighting equipment... This is much better than anything I own.
The players start filing out into the hallway.
Coach has set up a spot with decent lighting, and I position myself with the camera ready.
I’ve done this before. Back in high school, I shot portraits for the yearbook and for a few local sports teams. I know how to make people look good and how to find the right angle and lighting.
Cory is first. He’s relaxed in front of the camera, and I get a few solid shots of him.
“Turn your head just a little to the left,” I say, adjusting the angle. “Perfect. Now give me a serious look.”
He does, and I snap a few more frames. When I show him the screen, his eyes light up.
“These look great.”
“Thanks. You’re a natural.”
He grins, and for a second, I think he’s going to say something else, but then Gabriel speaks up from down the hallway.
“Cory, Coach wants to talk to you about tomorrow’s lineup.”
Cory glances over at Gabriel, then back at me. “Uh, yeah. Okay. Thanks for the photos, Scarlett.”
He walks away, and I watch Gabriel’s face. He’s still smiling, but there’s something cold in his eyes.
I move on to the next player. Taj steps up, telling me all about his summer and asking where I’m from. I answer politely, keeping the conversation light, and I get some great shots of him laughing.
“You’re really good at this,” he says when I show him the photos.
“Thanks. I’ve had some practice.”
“You should come to more of our parties. Maybe we’d have something better than drunk selfies.”
I laugh. “Maybe.”
“Taj, can you grab that extra stick for me?” Gabriel asks.
Taj’s brow furrows, but he nods. “Yeah, sure. Scarlett, see you around.”
He leaves, and I glance at Gabriel. He’s pretending to examine his stick, but I can see the satisfied smirk on his face.
Every time one of the guys lingers too long or tries to start a conversation, Gabriel finds a way to interrupt. He calls them over for something, or he walks past and makes some comment that pulls their attention away from me.
It’s subtle, but I notice, and it pisses me off.
He thinks he owns me already and that he can control who I talk to and when.
But I just smile sweetly and keep working, acting as if I don’t see what he’s doing.
By the time I’ve photographed the entire team, they’re all thrilled with their shots. A few of them ask if they can post the photos on their own social media, and I promise to send the edited versions to them soon.
Gabriel is the last one to step up for his profile photo. He takes his time, and when he finally stops in front of me, he leans against the wall with a big grin on his face.
“Saved the best for last,” he says.
I force a smile. “Let’s get this done.”
He poses easily, and I have to admit he’s got that natural charisma that makes every shot look effortless. The lighting catches his eyes just right, and his jawline looks even more defined in the frame.
I take a few shots and lower the camera. “Got it.”
“Can I see?”
I turn the screen toward him, and he studies the photos with a critical eye. “Not bad. You’re great at this.”
“Thanks.”
“You should focus on me more during practice. The captain always gets the most attention.”
I tilt my head and give him an innocent smile. “I’ll make sure to get everyone equally. That’s what good team photography is about.”
His grin falters for just a second, and I can see the irritation flash in his eyes. But then he nods. “Sure. Whatever you think is best.”
When he’s gone, I feel a small surge of satisfaction. That got under his skin.
THE PRACTICE STARTS, and I follow the team to the rink. The cold washes over me immediately.
I move to the stands with my camera to get action shots. This is the part I’ve been looking forward to because I’ll be able to see what Gabriel is capable of.
And it turns out he’s incredible.
I hate admitting it, but it’s true. He’s fast, aggressive, and he moves across the ice with a precision that makes it look effortless. He scores goal after goal during the drills, and every time he does, his teammates cheer or tap their sticks against the ice.
He’s also physical. He checks players hard but clean, staying within the rules but making sure everyone feels his presence.
There’s an intensity to the way he plays, and a controlled aggression that makes it clear why he’s the captain.
When he’s on the ice, everything revolves around him. The plays run through him.
I take a few shots of him, capturing the moment he winds up for a slap shot and the way he celebrates after scoring. The photos are good. Really good. He looks powerful and commanding, and it’s exactly the kind of image that would make people worship him even more.
But I don’t linger on him. Instead, I turn my attention to the other players.
I get shots of the defensemen making blocks, the goalie diving for saves, and the younger guys who are working hard but don’t get as much attention.
There’s a freshman who’s clearly trying to prove himself, and I capture him making a great pass that sets up a goal.
These are the photos I’ll post on social media. Not the ones that make Gabriel look like a god.
Because I know it’ll piss him off.
I spend the rest of the practice moving around the rink, getting different angles and making sure I have a solid mix of shots.
The team is talented, and there’s a camaraderie between them that’s obvious even from a distance.
They joke around between the drills, and when someone makes a mistake, the others are quick to encourage rather than criticize.
It would almost be nice if Gabriel wasn’t at the center of it all, controlling everything.
By the time the practice ends, I have hundreds of photos to sort through. The team starts filing off the ice, and I wave goodbye to a few of them as they head toward the locker room.
Coach stops by on his way out. “How’d it go?”
“Great. I got some really good shots.”
“Excellent. Send me your favorites when you get a chance, and we’ll start posting them on the team accounts.”
“Sure.”
He leaves, and I settle back into my seat, scrolling through the photos on my camera. I delete the ones that are blurry or poorly framed and mark my favorites for editing later.
But out of the corner of my eye, I see that Gabriel is still on the ice. He’s skating alone now, running drills by himself. His movements are just as precise as before, and he looks completely focused.
I watch him for a moment, trying to understand what drives him. Is it ego? Ambition? Or is there something else underneath all that arrogance?
He skates hard, pushing himself through the sprints and stick-handling drills. There’s no one watching him now. No teammates to impress or a coach to please. It’s just him and the ice.
And he’s still going at it as if his life depends on it.
I pack up my camera and get to my feet, making a show of heading toward the exit, just in case he’s doing all this for me. But once I’m out of sight, I hide behind a column near the rink entrance.
Gabriel is still skating, and after a few more minutes, he finally stops and heads toward the locker room. I wait until he’s inside, and then I move quietly down the hallway.
The locker room door is cracked open, and I can hear the water running. I shouldn’t be doing this. I should just leave and go edit the photos.
But I step closer and peer through the crack in the door. Gabriel has his back to me and he’s completely naked. His shoulders are broad, and his back is muscled in a way that makes it clear he spends a lot of time in the gym. Every line is defined.
But then I notice something else.
A bruise spreads across his ribs on the left side, and it’s dark and ugly.
I stare at it, trying to figure out where it came from. A hit during practice? A fight? It looks painful, but he didn’t show any sign of it on the ice.
My eyes drift lower, and I catch myself staring at his ass.
It’s a nice ass.
Like, really, really nice.
Fuck.
I blink, forcing myself to snap out of it. What the hell am I doing? I’m not here to ogle Gabriel, think about how attractive he is, or how good he looks without any clothes on.
I’m here to destroy him.
I step back from the door and turn, heading quickly down the hallway before he can catch me. My heart rate speeds up, and my face feels hot.
That was stupid. I can’t let myself get distracted like that.
Gabriel is the enemy, and I need to remember that. No matter how good he looks or how talented he is on the ice, he’s still the person who drove my sister to her death.
And I’m going to make him pay for it.