Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Mollie
Staring up at the ceiling of Thorne's guest room, I watch the pale morning light blossom into full-fledged daylight.
It's way earlier than I usually wake up.
But then again, I'm not usually sleeping in my mortal enemy/brother's teammate's guest bedroom.
And I don't usually ask guys to take my virginity shortly before finding out that my apartment has gone up in flames.
I press my hands against my face and sigh deeply. Maybe if I never, ever mention the virginity thing to him again, we can both pretend that it never happened.
That's possible, right?
It takes some serious positive self-talk to get me up and dressed for work. Things like ‘I can do anything I set my mind to! (Except Thorne.)’ ‘Being here is not inconveniencing anyone! (Again, except Thorne.)’ I drag myself through the shower and then pause in front of my closet.
Should I dress up today? Or should I put on a habit, like a nun? That would be the Thorne-approved version of an outfit. Scowling, I intentionally go the other way. Pink crop top, high-waisted leggings, and matching pink Converse. Not scandalous in the least, but also not trying to dress modestly.
I'm trying to be happy and comfortable, that's all.
As soon as I trudge downstairs, Thorne looks up from the blender. He’s just poured two blue-gray shakes.
"About time," he grunts. "Here."
He slides one of the shakes toward me, then jerks a thumb over his back. "There's a to-go cup of coffee with some almond milk and honey in it for you. If you hurry, I can give you a ride."
"Uhh... thanks?" I pick up the shake and take a sip. Though it's a disgusting color, it actually tastes pretty good. Creamy, with a strong blueberry flavor. "Mmm."
Thorne's lips twitch as if he's repressing a smile. "Glad you like it, Red."
"Ugh, Red?" I pull a face. "That's what every guy I know calls me."
"I'll keep workshopping it." He shrugs. "Finish your shake, Squeak."
"That is so much worse!"
"Shoulda thought of that before you said something.
" He tilts his glass back and downs a third of it, his throat working in a way that makes me blush.
No reason why. It's not like I don't already know that Thorne is as gorgeous as a Greek freaking god.
He's six-four, thick with dense muscle, and his ass is ridiculous.
And yes, I'm talking from the experience of him walking in front of me in his suit. I might have tripped and fallen.
So I have a problem with Thorne's butt. So does half the population of Seattle, probably. Thorne is notoriously good-looking.
I gulp down the shake and grab a hoodie and rain jacket off the coat racks.
The ride to work is silent, mostly because Thorne turns up some mumble-rap rather than have to talk to me. Fine, he can have it that way. I sip my mug of coffee, trying to keep its disgusting nature to myself. At least Thorne tried.
Thorne parks between the practice rink and the arena, then promptly fucks off to go skate without saying a word to me.
Again, this is fine. I haven't forgotten the crying, or the embarrassment of asking him to take my V-card.
It's easier for me to pretend like it never happened when I don’t have to see his stupid Adonis face.
The first thing I have scheduled is an early meeting with Juliet, the five-foot-tall firecracker-in-heels that runs the PR department. She's already behind her desk when I knock gently on her open door.
"Hey! Come on in." She waves me into a seat. "Catch me up on what's been happening with TikTok and Insta for the last week."
I pull up the apps I use to manage our accounts and we talk numbers for a minute. Juliet smiles.
"Every time I get an update from you, I'm blown away, Mollie."
I blush. "I know the number of followers isn't as explosive as when I first started."
"You predicted that before you came on the team." She waves away the concern. "Say no more about it. I just want to talk about a few longer-term projects. Stuff that you can add to your schedule or possibly even do instead of some of the day-to-day posts you do."
"Oh." My brow bunches. "If I stop posting, we'll lose the followers we've gained."
Juliet's smile widens. "My suggestion is that we bring on an intern to take a lot off your plate. In exchange, you could work on a bigger project. Really focus on one of the players, try to get more in-depth. I was going to suggest your brother, to start."
I wince. "Beck is out sick with Rosie right now. I don't know how long he'll be gone for."
"God, I had no idea!" Juliet looks alarmed.
"Rosie has impetigo. It's like a mouth rash? Do yourself a favor and don't Google it. Anyway, it's hella contagious, but otherwise shouldn't be a big deal."
Juliet blows out a breath "How about we start with Alex Thorne, then?"
"Oh!" Heat creeps into my cheeks. "Well, I am staying with him for a bit."
"Perfect! He's the most marketable player anyway. He's the fan favorite. Everybody loves him."
Yeah, everybody but me.
"Sure." I deflate a bit. "That makes sense."
My job is the one space that belongs entirely to me, especially now that my apartment is gone. My office doesn’t belong to Beck or my parents or my skating history. In this building, I am Mollie Tate, social media coordinator. That felt like something real.
Now I'm the person following Thorne around with a camera. I can already feel the edges of my neat little space blurring.
"Great. I'm going to talk to the interns about posting content for you and shooting B-roll. You focus on Thorne. Interview him, get B-roll of him doing activities outside the rink. During games, you can relax. Everything is caught on the cameras."
"And eventually, you want... what, a documentary about him?" I can already see the fans lining up for that. Blegh.
"Kind of depends on what you get on film. Maybe you can do a series of thirst trap videos, a few where he talks about his passion for volunteering, and then something else."
"Hanging out with his King Kong-sized dog?" I muse.
Juliet's eyes light up. "That would be amazing!"
"Can do. Do you have a timeline?"
"Let's check in after a week. I'm willing to go for a month if you get the right footage." She pauses. "This won't be weird for you, right? I don't want to put you in any awkward positions trying to get thirst trap videos."
My face flames. "No. I'll be all right."
"Okay, great."
There is a knock at the open office door and Jessa pops her head in. "Am I interrupting?"
Chestnut-haired, angelic-looking Jessa is literally the sweetest person on earth. She's also the team-services coordinator. She beams at me. "I heard that Rosie is sick?"
I blink. "Yes, she is. How did you hear that?"
She ducks her head. "I texted your brother."
She hands me a tote. Peeking inside, I see Pedialyte pops, drinkable applesauce packets, a few coloring books, cheddar popcorn, and a handwritten note addressed to Rosie. My jaw drops.
"Whoa, Jessa. These are all Rosie's favorite things. How did you know?"
"Your brother mentioned them on his Insta." She turns red as a beet. "I follow everyone on the team."
She squirms a little and I can't help but laugh. "Beck is going to go nuts over this. Really."
"I figured you would see him before I do."
Juliet smirks faintly. "I'm sure Beck will be appreciative. Jessa, do you mind staying for a minute? I have a new to-do list for you. Mollie, go get some great film."
Jumping up from my seat, I give them both a salute. "I'll do my best."
"Hey, before you go. The Coven should meet up soon!" Jessa says. That's the nickname for the crazy women that work here. All of us try to get together and cackle together under the moonlight whenever we get the chance.
"I'd love that. Text me!" I make my way out of Juliet's office, my heart thrumming.
It's not that I don't want to hang out with a bunch of women who are infinitely cooler than I am.
But Juliet just handed me a huge assignment.
.. and it's to cover the one guy I should probably be avoiding.
We already live together and work together.
Now I'm supposed to follow him around and document him?
The only time I won't have Thorne in my face is while I sleep. And knowing my overactive imagination, even that's not a promise.
Sighing, I stop by my office and grab my work laptop. It's big and clunky compared with my phone, but I might need it to edit some reels.
Slinging a laptop bag over my shoulder, I lug my raincoat and my hoodie all the way over to the practice rink.
It's technically next door, but it’s enough of a walk that I'm covered in a light sheen of perspiration by the time I show my badge at the security checkpoint.
The second I step into the building's chilled air, I relax.
I've been hanging out at skating rinks since Beck's very first practice, all those years ago. When the local rink started offering ice skating lessons right before the afternoon hockey practices, I begged my mom to let me try.
I was hooked the moment I stepped out on the ice.
Taking my seat, I look out over the rink. There are fewer people here than usual, only Thorne, Connor, Jett, and Theo. It's not unusual for numbers to swell and shrink at random during summer practices.
And Thorne is a dedicated man. I'll give him that.
Since there aren't enough players to scrimmage, they are doing some kind of drill, skating as hard as they can to the end of the rink, then racing back and firing a puck toward the goal. The ping of the puck hitting the back and bouncing out again, in regular intervals, is almost musical.
Theo zips down the length of the rink, his face mottled pink with exertion. And he has a smile on his face.
That smile echoes in me, ricocheting around my body. I haven't skated since I broke my ankle in three places. The accident.
Five seconds in time that changed my life forever.