Chapter 9 Mira #2
The campus tour was supposed to be a brief escape. Ninety minutes of showing prospective students around, talking about athletics programs, and definitely not thinking about three hockey players who were systematically destroying my sanity.
Of course, the universe had other plans.
I was midway through explaining the history of our athletics center when I saw him. Sam. Walking across the quad with his arm around a brunette who was gazing up at him like he'd personally hung the moon.
I froze.
"Mira!" Sam's face lit up like he hadn't destroyed my entire life. "What are the odds?"
The odds of seeing him again were exactly as astronomical as I'd calculated them to be. But apparently, the universe thought I needed more character development.
"Sam? What are you doing here?" I managed to keep my voice level. "Didn’t you transfer to Westwood?"
"I was just in the neighborhood." He was still smiling, and I recognized that expression—the one that said he wanted something. "This is Emilia. My new partner."
Emilia had that eager enthusiasm I remembered having once. She was clinging to Sam's arm like a barnacle, and I felt a pang of sympathy. Poor girl had no idea what she was in for.
"It's such an honor," Emilia gushed. "Sam's told me so much about you. About how you helped build his career. He says you were really good before... well." She trailed off, and Sam had the grace to look uncomfortable.
Before I got injured and became dead weight. She didn't have to finish the sentence.
"I need to get back to the tour," I said, turning away.
"Wait." Sam's hand caught my arm, and I fought the urge to flinch. "Mira, can we talk? I've been thinking about... us. I think I made a mistake."
Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
"You replaced me in three weeks."
"That was for skating. This is different." He glanced at Emilia, who was still clinging to him like plastic wrap. "I miss you. I miss what we had."
"What we had was you controlling every aspect of my life while I convinced myself it was partnership."
"That's not fair. I was trying to help you be the best."
"No, you were trying to make me smaller so you could be bigger."
Sam's expression hardened. "You're being dramatic. You always got too emotional about competition. That's why you never—"
He didn't get to finish that sentence because three very large hockey players materialized out of literally nowhere. One second I was standing alone with Sam and Emilia, and the next, there was a wall of muscle between us.
"Problem?" Logan asked, and his voice had that sharp edge I'd only heard when someone went after his goal.
Sam took a step back, his eyes widening. "We were just talking."
"Looked like harassing to me," Blake rumbled, and I'd never heard his voice that low.
Nolan didn't say anything, just looked at Sam with an expression that could have frozen lava. Sam actually paled.
"I—we were just catching up. Mira and I have history."
"Had," I corrected, finding my voice. "Past tense. We had history. As in, it's over. As in, I'd like you to leave now."
"You heard her," Logan said, and all three of them shifted forward in unison.
Sam looked between them, clearly calculating his odds. "This isn't over, Mira. We need to talk eventually."
"Actually," Nolan said pleasantly, "it's very over. And if we see you bothering her again, we'll have a different kind of conversation."
Sam grabbed Emilia's hand and practically dragged her away. She looked back over her shoulder, wide-eyed and confused. I made a mental note to find her later, maybe warn her about what she was getting into. But that was future Mira's problem.
"You guys didn't have to do that," I said, once Sam was out of sight.
"Yes, we did," Blake said immediately.
"He was bothering you," Logan added.
"And he's an asshole," Nolan finished.
"You don't know that."
All three of them looked at me with identical expressions of disbelief.
"Okay, fine, he's a cheating asshole. But I can handle my own fights."
"We know you can," Nolan said. "But that doesn't mean you have to."
"This is different from what Sam did," Logan added, like he could read my thoughts. "He tried to control you. We're just... backup. When you want it."
"You're standing beside me, not in front of me," I said slowly.
"Exactly." Blake grinned. "Though I'm happy to stand in front if you want to kick him and need cover."
Despite everything, I laughed. The tour group was staring at us, probably wondering why their guide had acquired three protective hockey players, but I couldn't bring myself to care.
"Come on," I said, starting to walk back toward the group. "Since you're here, you might as well make yourselves useful. Tell them about the athletics program."
"Are we allowed to mention the time Blake got stuck in the Zamboni?" Logan asked.
"That was one time!"
"Or when Nolan accidentally flooded the locker room trying to fix a pipe?"
"It was an emergency plumbing situation."
"Or that time Logan—"
"If you finish that sentence, I'm telling them about your karaoke incident."
I led my tour group away, their bickering fading behind me, and realized I was smiling.