14. Willa
CHAPTER 14
WILLA
The arena was absolutely buzzing with energy from the moment I arrived up to and including when Noah made the winning shot. The sound of the fans screaming in unison around me was absolutely amazing, even if it almost blew my eardrum.
Navigating my way through the crowd as folks begin pushing their way out of the arena, I point myself in the direction of where Noah and his teammates from the Ice Breakers are filing off the ice. The chill in the air makes me grateful I kept my coat on. With my hand wrapped around my camera, I snap away, taking as many photos of the crowd as I can, wanting to parlay this palpable feeling from the arena to anyone who sees my photos. I’m thankful I’ve got my camera as my crutch at the moment, it’s my safe place; no one can see the ridiculous smile I have plastered on my face because I got to see Noah make the winning shot.
When I get to the floor, I’m greeted by Dawson as he moves past, with their assistant coach Scotty close by chatting with him, probably about the game. I see other players I recognize from taking their photos earlier in the year—all looking worn out but ecstatic to be bringing in a win .
When I turn around, still looking for Noah, I see a twelve-year-old boy wearing an Ice Breakers jersey gripping his mother’s hand. When I catch her eye, she smiles my way, kindness reflected in her eyes. This pair would be great for a photo op.
“Hi,” I say, approaching the mother cautiously. “My name is Willa and I’m taking pictures here for a few publications, like Athletic Edge magazine.” Inclining my head toward the boy holding on to her hand, I ask, “May I take a photo of the two of you for them to maybe use on their social media or in the magazine?”
The boy tilts his head at me. “Do we retain all rights to these images in the future?”
“Andrew!” She eyes me warily. “We’ve been doing a lot of photos for all of the media already. Are you sure they’d want another one of me?”
Doing a double take, I look at her again, wondering if I should know her. Then I remember doing my own briefing the night I arrived, thanks to a lack of information that was shared with me; if memory serves, she’s the woman in charge of the charity.
“Wait. You’re Angelica Davis, with Happy Horizons Ranch?” I venture, crossing my fingers.
“The one and only, for better or for worse.” She winks, a wall beginning to slide down. “But everyone calls me Angel.” She thrusts her hand in my direction, letting go of the boy, who takes off into the crowd. “My son. He’s at that age where he knows everything.”
Smiling, I watch as he makes his way to the railing, leaning against it and watching the guys who are left on the ice skate around. “I’ve seen that age in their rebellion mode before.”
“You have kids?”
“No, not yet, but one day.”
She smiles, her eyes trained on her son. I can tell she’s not in the mood for a photo, so I decide not to push any more. Instead, I step back and give her a wave. “Nice to meet you, Angel. I really hope your charity gets everything it deserves out of these games.”
“Me, too,” she calls out over her shoulder as she begins to make her way over to where her son hangs onto the railing and swings back and forth with his heels as he pivots. “Me, too.”
Chuckling to myself I look up, not expecting to find Noah, and prepared to head back to the locker room. Which, even as I think it, makes me feel like a puck sniffer … or is it a puck bunny? Either way, yuck. I don’t want to be one of those people, but I’m excited to see him. Especially after that game.
I scan the groups clustered around me, my eyes finally spotting his familiar face. Noah’s a stone’s throw from where I’m standing, so I toss my camera in its bag, throw it over my arm, and start literally swimming upstream through the throng of moving bodies when I see the strangest thing.
As I’m approaching, there’s a small sprite of a girl with raven-black hair and crystal-blue eyes who looks surprisingly familiar. In my line of work, everyone starts to look familiar, though, but it’s not so much her as it is her actions that stump me. I watch as she stands on her tiptoes and plants her lips directly on Noah’s.
The sting that hits my gut is real. Like a slap in the face. Instinct tells me to run, as if I’m seeing the evidence that he is the guy I thought he was. I even go so far as to start to walk away, but I stop myself.
I’m not listening to that voice anymore, as much as I can help it. Even with my armpits starting to leak water like they’re my eyes and I’m peeling an onion, I try to tuck my anxiety to the back of my brain and, instead, I do the opposite of what I want to do. No flight for me.
I march over to where the duo stands. Noah’s eyes slam into mine, showing what I think is relief as soon as he sees me. A wave of emotions and thoughts seems to cloud across his face, but even I can tell from the small amount of time we’ve been spending together that he’s uncomfortable. Whether it’s because of me or her, I have no idea, but I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Hi,” I say, walking up and standing beside him. I ignore the fact this woman is wearing a jersey from his old NHL team with his name on it. Actually, I find it rude. I want to say, “Duh, he’s with the Renegades now,” but I keep my mouth shut.
Instead, I keep my eyes locked on him, and I’m rewarded when his grin chases any and all storm clouds that were hovering above us away.
“That was a great game.” He taps his chest, drawing my eyes to where he’d pinned the present I’d given him. “It’s all because of this little guy.”
“Um, hi,” the petite female says, pushing herself in between us, as if taking a protective stance with Noah.
Noah glaces at the other woman with disdain. “Willa, meet Cecilia. My ex-girlfriend.”
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to notice that his words do not please this woman. Cecilia bristles, then points to the bird pin. “What is that?”
“It’s a lucky charm,” Noah says, going one step further and wrapping an arm around me. “Willa gave it to me at breakfast.”
Cecilia’s blue eyes widen at the mention of breakfast. Noah and I know we’re pretty much a PG-13 couple, but she doesn’t. It’s also this very moment that I put two and two together and realize who she is. “Wait, you’re Cecilia Grazer, aren’t you?”
She puffs up with pride, and I feel a little heat leave the air now that she’s been recognized. Bless her little peacocky heart.
“I saw one of your films, I think it was called Townies or something like that?” I mean, I did see it, but I think I was forced. To be honest, she’s not my favorite actress and isn’t someone who’ll be nominated for an Academy Award anytime soon, but I digress.
Cecilia’s face twists with irritation. “It was called City Girls .”
“Ah.” It’s fine. I wanted to poke at her, and I did .
“So, Cecilia was just leaving,“ Noah begins, but apparently she doesn’t get the memo.
“Noah, can we have a drink tonight? I’d love to meet you and have some …” She looks me up and down. “One-on-one time.”
It’s my turn to bristle. “Did you really just ask him out for a drink?”
She rolls her eyes. “I did. Why is it your business?”
I take a moment to pull my hair up into a bun on top of my head. “It’s not, but I think it’s plebian of you.”
Beside me, Noah grunts, stifling a laugh. In front of me, World War Cecilia looks like she’s about to have a conniption.
“Plebian?” she nearly shouts, looking at me like I have ten heads and all of my hair is made of snakes. “What does that even mean?”
My jaw goes slack as Noah steps in. “Cecilia, Travis told me you were trying to get in touch for tickets. This is my fault, I should have called. Thanks for your support, but I don’t have time to hang out while you’re here.”
I feel Noah’s hand wrap around mine. Solidly. I like it.
Cecilia sees it, too. Her eyes bounce down and take in our intertwined fingers, his thumb caressing the top of my hand, and then she slowly pulls them back up as she looks at Noah, then over to me, and back to Noah again.
“Seriously?” she hisses. “Who even is she, Noah, besides a girl who needs to brush her hair?”
Noah starts to defend me, but I’m feeling my oats. I fight the twerk of my lips and the urge to burst out laughing. “You’re going to attack my hair?”
Cecilia looks perplexed. I don’t know, but I’m guessing she’s not had anyone hold their ground with her before. I think she’s combusting. “What I mean is that you don’t fit in. Here. In Noah’s world.”
I pull my hand away from Noah’s grasp, much to my chagrin, only to cross my arms haughtily so I can look down my nose at her and do it well, too. “Considering I’m here for Athletic Edge and have been working in the sports industry for almost ten years now, you’d think I’d have a grip on how to handle myself …” Hoisting my hands in the air, I throw up some air quotes, continuing, “In Noah’s world.”
Her eyes narrow as she looks at me, stepping closer. “Oh, so you work in the sports industry?” She points to my camera. “I’m not an expert, but if you are a photographer and you’re taking photos of him for a magazine and you’re under contract, isn’t it bad form to date your subject?”
Huh. Well, she’s got me there. I have no poker face, so the moment she sees she’s got me, this sweet little angel of a human goes in for the kill.
“Fab. So you are here working and this,” she says, pointing a skinny little manicured finger at the both of us, “is for sure not something that should be happening.”
Someone calls her name from the side and she turns, waving to them. “Be right there.” Turning back around, she grins at us, a little too pleased with herself. “Well, this has been enlightening. Enjoy your night.”
With that, she turns literally on her heel and stomps away.
With a shudder, I turn to face Noah. “Wow. She’s a lovely thing. I don’t know why you two split up.”
Noah takes my other hand, clutching it tightly, and pulls me to him. “I’m so sorry, Willa, I was not prepared for her to show up here.”
Of course, I know and understand that he had no clue she was going to appear like vapors in the arena, but still. Her threat? It’s feeling pretty real.
“She’s got a point, Noah.” I can only mumble this because my mind is working overtime.
“Huh?” He looks at me with confusion etched across his beautiful features. “You really think that she’s going to make this a thing? ”
“I think she could cause trouble if she wanted to,” I begin, only to be interrupted. Again.
“Hey, Noah,” Travis says, walking up to us. “Willa. It’s nice to see you.”
“Same here.” Luckily, this person is more friend than foe. I’ve done a few photoshoots with one of Travis’s biggest and brightest hockey stars, Jake December. “I figured I’d run into you here. Nice to see you.”
My tone is flat, not reflecting who I am at all, and both men standing in front of me pick up on it. I can tell by the way they side-eye me before turning their attention to each other.
“Wanted to let you know that I’ve got good news. The Canadian Grizzly Bears want to talk to you about a possible position on their team in the coming season.” His eyes then bounce to me before he turns them back to Noah. “You’d be in Canada most of the year, probably making it a second home. But the money is excellent.” He stands back and crosses his arms, looking pleased with himself. “Can we make time to talk about it tonight?”
Noah’s eyes light up. I can feel his grip on my hand loosening. Funny that.
“I’d like to discuss it more, for sure,” Noah replies, his voice filled with excitement. I can’t blame him. He’s just made the winning point in tonight’s game, had an ex throw herself at him while witnessing another woman stand her ground for her territory, and now he gets an offer to go back to the NHL. Who am I to stand in his way?
But I don’t want him to let go of my hand. I don’t know why, but suddenly this small gesture in the midst of the sudden tornado is everything.
“Great.” Travis pulls out his phone and taps the screen a few times. “I’ve got to run, but I’ll text you in an hour and we’ll make a plan to meet up.”
With a quick smile my way, Travis disappears into the throng of people around us as quickly as he appeared .
Noah’s hand tightens around mine and I feel my little brush with anxiety start to melt away.
“So,” he says, stepping closer to me, brushing his lips across my forehead. “What were we talking about?”
Sighing, I open my mouth, ready to share with him all the fears about what Cecilia just said, how she could really take this away from me if she wanted. How it’s bad form for me to have started to be even remotely involved with the subject of a story, but all I can hear are Travis’s words.
“Wait. If you take this contract in Canada you’d live there most of the year, right?”
Noah shrugs. “I guess?”
“What about the camp?”
Noah’s smile fades, his jaw slackening as he looks at me. “I’m not sure. I hope Travis could get that time off for me so I could be a part of the camp still?” His eyes flick over my shoulder and he stares at the crowds around us. “I guess I’d probably not be able to have quite the lead role I think the Hart brothers were envisioning for me to have. I don’t know, I’ll have to ask.”
“I only mention it because you looked so happy talking about it,” I start to say. Only, once again, another person appears by Noah’s side with an agenda.
“Hey, Noah.” A man in a tight business suit stands beside us, nodding toward the player tunnel. “Coach Strickland asked you to be available for the press debrief. Will you come with me?”
Noah’s eyes rock around the tunnel, this super business-like individual, and me. In the back of my mind, even though I need to go back to work and get my last shots taken of the night, I want him to ask me to come with him. Isn’t it crazy? I want him to need me at this moment.
But, life has ways of changing its mind on us. Noah does one more sweep, looking at me, this executive, and the tunnel, and then in slow motion, I feel his hand slip out of mine as he steps away.
“I should go, Willa.” His voice is a little sheepish, but only I would know that. This other guy standing here would have no clue that the tone of Noah’s voice had just changed and gone down an octave.
“It’s all good,” I say, recovering quickly. I hold up my camera, reminding him I’m here to do a job, too. “I’ve got some shots to sneak in, then I need to upload before the deadline so they get them on the AP wire.”
The little executive is already making his way down the tunnel. He pauses briefly, waiting for Noah to catch up, then turning and walking away when he sees he’s coming.
My heart feels a little emptier than it did even ten minutes ago.
“Hey, Blackwell,” Noah calls out, using my last name like I’m a buddy. Cute. “Dinner tomorrow night?”
“Sure,” I say back, giving him a wave as he disappears out of my view, into a milling crowd of excited fans still fizzing from his winning goal.
Leaving me to stand alone and wonder if it’s all worth it.