34. Winnie
I have a lot of favorite moments that I’ve captured on camera, but as I sit on my bed and look over all the photos from today, I think they might be in my top three. Photo after photo, each one better than the last. Full of pure joy as the guys jump all over each other, celebrating their win. After the game, there was a chaotic slew of interviews, which I didn’t know happened in college hockey, but I stood corrected, and I decided to dip to the hotel to get working. Schmidt is amazing at running their social media account, and I’m so thankful for him because there’s no way I would be able to do what he can. He uses my photos and runs with them. I can take the photos and edit them to perfection, but it’s his witty captions that bring the people in. He’s gained over ten thousand followers since we started working with the team, and Mr. Kinnon seems more than thrilled about that.
I pull out my phone and click on Schmidt’s name. It rings a few times before he finally answers. Something loud crackles in the background, like a loud machine or something.
“What are you doing?”
The noise cuts out before he says, “Sorry, just in the studio. What’s up?” Schmidt is an art major, and how he got roomed in the athletic hall, I’ll never know. He doesn’t play any sports, and when I asked Reese about it, he didn’t know either. Apparently, he never thought to ask, but I digress.
“I am just going through the photos now. They are amazing.”
“Sweet. I know people have been getting antsy to see game snapshots.”
“Well, they aren’t going to be disappointed, that’s for sure. I’m going to spend the evening editing and should have a bunch to send you by morning.”
“’Ight, cool.”
A loud knock raps on my door, and I jump and scurry from the bed to see who it is. I have a pretty good idea, but just in case it’s not, I look out the peephole first.
Reese stands on the other side, his hair wet from a shower but tucked under a backward cap, per usual. Gosh, he looks hot. I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy that is causing the high sex drive or if that’s just Reese, but sheesh.
“Okay, I’ll let you go. Just check your email in the morning.”
“Sounds good. Later, Winnie.”
I tug on the door while saying my goodbyes. Reese narrows his eyes at me as I toss my phone on the bed behind me. Silence rings between us as he scans lower, and his upper lip twitches when he sees my bare legs. I removed my pants when I got here—not to seduce him but because it’s more comfortable being pantsless. However, the look Reese is giving me is merely an added bonus.
“Who were you talking to, pantsless, while your boyfriend stood in the hallway?”
He pushes through the door, and I back up, giving him room, but he follows me all the way to the bed. The back of my knees hit the mattress, and I fall onto my back.
“Schmidt.”
Reese stands above me, his feet wide and chest heaving. A stance of power. Images from the game flick through my mind. Seeing The Rapture on video was hot, but witnessing it in person… that was a whole other level. If I’m being really honest, I took my pants off and changed my underwear because they were soaked from watching Reese. When he’s off the ice, he’s the sweetest guy, at least to me, but when he’s on the ice, he’s so… rough. A shiver racks through me, and he leans down.
“You weren’t there when I got off the ice.”
My throat bobs as I swallow hard. “I, uh, came back here to work on the photos.”
“I was looking for you.”
Oh. I didn’t think he would notice my absence because he was so busy with everything else. We were meeting up for dinner later, and I knew he would most likely stop by my room when he got here. He’s already moved his stuff in, thrilled we would have a room all to ourselves. I don’t think that’s what Coach Swanson and Miller were thinking when they booked me a room, but I won’t be the one to get in trouble if he gets caught in here.
“I’m sorry.” I keep my voice soft and extra sweet in hopes of ridding some of his irritation. When he doesn’t budge, panic settles low in my stomach. I shift, biting my lip as my head scrambles to come up with something that will make him forgive me quickly. It doesn’t take long for me to figure it out. I lift my hand, but he must be able to read my mind because he snatches both my wrists in one hand and lifts them above my head before I can touch him. His sweatshirt rises and flashes my panties, but they’re not sexy. My white cotton granny panties are the opposite of attractive, but they are comfortable and what I wear when I’m alone.
Still, Reese’s eyes blaze as if I’m in lingerie.
“Next time, wait for me. Unless there is an emergency, and in that case, have someone come get me. It fucked me up looking for you and not finding you, Win. You’re lucky I checked my phone and saw your text because I was ready to tear the building apart.”
My chest caves with his words. “I didn’t think you would notice. You were so busy. I’m really sorry, Reese. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
He drops his forehead to mine and blows a minty breath over my face. “There will never be a day when I won’t notice your absence, Winnie. Ever.”
Reese is tucked into my side, watching TV with his arm behind his head while I edit photos, and I can’t help but love how natural this feels. Every so often, he makes a comment on a photo, and it warms my heart that he’s interested in what I’m doing.
He absentmindedly drags his fingertips along my bare back under my shirt, and it’s distracting, but in the best way.
We have to get ready for dinner soon, but I’m so content, I don’t want to remind him. Unfortunately, someone knocks on the door to do just that. I let Reese answer it since I’m still pantsless. I’ve gotten a lot done in the last couple of hours, enough that I gather the finished photos and get an email going for Schmidt. I’ll need to finish the rest later, but these should be good for now.
Reese throws open the door, and before a word can be uttered, ten hockey players wander into my room. I shift, pulling the blanket further up, just in case, and shoot a look to Reese, but he doesn’t look any more pleased than I am by the intrusion.
“Get the fuck out.”
They ignore him, finding a place to sit anywhere they can. A few even sit on the foot of the bed, and I wonder if Reese is going to lose his mind, but Sawyer grabs his attention first.
“The girls want Snaps.”
Twenty-two eyes turn my way.
“What for?” Reese asks, because I can’t seem to get a word out. I see these guys all the time, but I’m usually wearing pants. Mind you, they all have probably seen my ass—something I keep forgetting.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know? Amy mentioned something about picking outfits or some shit. I don’t know, okay? I blacked out when they were talking.”
Oh, right. I forgot Amy made the trip for the game. Apparently, that’s what the call was about. She was planning on spending those few days before with Sawyer, but the storm made it impossible, and somehow that was Sawyer’s fault. Honestly, I’m not interested in helping her pick outfits, but I am curious to meet the girl.
Reese leans against the wall and crosses his arms. He doesn’t seem to care about being in his underwear in front of all these guys, but I suppose that’s because they share a locker room and have probably seen more than his blue briefs. We didn’t even have sex, though. He merely stripped before he crawled into bed. I wanted to, but I could tell he was tired, so I didn’t push it. Besides, it was nice just being with him.
He looks at me like I’m the only person in the world, and it never fails to swell my heart. “You want to go? Feel free to say no. Amy is a bitch.”
Sawyer scowls at his best friend, but he doesn’t deny it. A few of the guys out of Sawyer’s eyesight nod, agreeing with Reese as well.
“I guess,” I say with a shrug. I mean, how bad can one person be? I’ve met Zoey, so can Amy really be worse?
“Who the hell are you?”
Okay, so not the best first impression. Amy throws her short bottle-blonde hair over her shoulder and glares at me.
“Hi, I’m Winnie. You must be Amy.” Based on the bitchiness.
Her thin eyebrows pinch together, and she purses her lips like she just tasted lemon. She holds it for so long I wonder if her face is permanently going to stay that way. “Winnie? Like my boyfriend?”
“Uh… no. Winnie as in, Winnie is my name, and his last name is Winnifred.”
“How do you know his name?”
I stare at her with a blank face because what else am I meant to do? A sick thought occurs to me, and I’m tempted to tell her the story I told Elijah about how we slept together, but if she’s going to be here all weekend, I really don’t want to have to deal with it. How has Sawyer been dating her for years? It’s only been five minutes since she opened the door to what I thought was Emma and Laney’s room, and I’m already tempted to turn around.
“Amy, calm down. Winnie is dating Reese.”
Amy settles a smidge as Emma steps to her side. She smiles at me, but it’s obviously forced.
“So glad you could make it. Come in.” She tugs on my arm, despite Amy’s arguing behind us.
Laney sits on a chair in the corner of the room, hugging her legs. Her eyes brighten when she sees me, but the moment Amy walks into the room, she cowers again. What the hell is this girl’s problem? I know what Reese told me, and while I get Amy probably isn’t happy about her boyfriend’s obvious feelings for another girl, she should have some self-respect and break up with him, geesh.
“So, you’re dating Reese Larson?”
“I am.”
She eyes me skeptically. This girl has some serious issues if she hates someone without even knowing them. “What are you, like, a buckle bunny or something?”
Emma drops her head to her hands, and I have to hold back a laugh to not piss her off any more than she already is.
“I think you mean puck bunny. And no. I’ve been around hockey my whole life. My dad was a coach and coached Reese all throughout school. I also photograph the team for their social media page, the local newspaper, and recently got asked to photograph the individual and team photos for the Emerson U magazine.”
“Did you?” Emma squeals.
I grin at her. “I did. Just got the email last week.” It was surreal getting an email from someone so high up at my university, but I guess everyone is pleased with my work. Everyone but Amy, that is. Her face is pinched, but I’m starting to believe that’s just her face at this point.
“So you’re the one who makes those posts sexualizing my boyfriend?”
“Uh, no? I just take photos at practices and games. No sexualizing going on, and I’m not even the one who makes the posts. That’s Reese’s roommate, Schmidt. Whatever he posts with my photos is none of my business.” But I know for a fact he doesn’t post anything inappropriate, so I don’t know what she is getting at.
Amy pulls her phone from her bra and scrolls for a minute, all while I’m glancing at Emma and Laney. They shrug, obviously not having a clue what is happening either.
After another minute, Amy whips her phone around, showing an Instagram feed. I lean closer, wanting to get a better look, then laugh. I don’t mean to, but I laugh hard and loud at the Sawyer Winnifred fan page. It’s not sexual, either. In fact, it looks like it was made by a twelve-year-old with a crush.
“Oh, you think this is funny? My boyfriend is being harassed and it’s funny to you?”
“No, what I do think is funny is that you are threatened by some random fan page that looks to be made by a child.”
“But those are your photos.”
“Yeah, they are, but that’s not my page, and I’m not into your boyfriend. In fact, I find him infuriating more times than not.” And now I’m really starting to question his judge of character.
Amy’s brown eyes blow wide as if I just said I was into her boyfriend. She stands, gets in my face, and snarls, “If I find out this is your page, I will make your life hell.”
I push to my feet, forcing her back, even though she’s taller than I am. “Don’t fucking threaten me again.”
Amy glares at me. She’s a bitch and makes Zoey look like an angel. Okay, not that far, but pretty damn close. I’m not a fighter, but Elijah taught me how to punch. He said it was just in case, and if this girl keeps threatening me, it will become a just-in-case moment.
Emma steps between us and claps her hands with an awkward smile. “I need help deciding between two dresses and could really use opinions.”
Amy continues her hateful stare, but I flick a friendly smile at Emma. “Sure thing.”
Emma has more than two dresses to pick from; she has a total of seven, and none of us can agree. Well, Laney and I agree, but of course Amy doesn’t, and I’m not saying she’s the worst human ever, but she’s totally telling Emma to pick the worst one on purpose. Thankfully, Emma isn’t an idiot and doesn’t listen to her.
“I think I’m going with the blue one.”
Laney and I smile, nodding in agreeance.
Amy scoffs. “Okay, well, if you want to look washed out, whatever.”
This girl isn’t even upsetting me anymore, she’s just annoying. I’ve been in this room for over forty minutes, and not once has one positive thing come out of her mouth.
“Okay, Laney’s turn,” Emma says, completely ignoring Amy, which seems to piss her off all over again. Or maybe it’s the mention of Laney. She shoots dirty looks her way, but for the most part, she’s ignored her existence altogether.
“Why does she need to dress up? Who is she trying to impress?” Amy is looking at Laney but asking the question like she’s not talking to her.
Laney lowers her eyes to her hands and twirls her thumbs. I don’t understand why she lets Amy speak to her this way.
“She can dress up for whoever she wants. Or maybe she just wants to dress up for herself,” Emma snaps.
Amy rolls her eyes. If she continues to do that, I wouldn’t be surprised if they rolled out of her head.
“I only brought one outfit, so no need to decide.”
Emma groans. “Bor-inggg, but go put it on!” She spins to me. “What about you, Win?”
I tilt my head at the other dresses lying on her bed and study them for a hot second. I can see Emma grinning from the corner of my eye. She’s tall, like her brother, and curvier than I am, but a few of the dresses were bodycon and would probably mold to my body as well, and the thought of Reese seeing me in something like that causes giddiness to run throughout my body.
“Well, I was just going to wear this. But would you want to lend me a dress for the night?”
She squeals and claps her hands. She picks up all the dresses from the bed and tosses them at me. They are heavier than I thought they’d be, and I grunt with a smile on my face.
“Go try them on!”
I don’t know what we are dressing up for. As far as I know, we’re simply going for a nice dinner. That’s hardly the occasion for what I would classify as a going-out dress, but oh well.
I slip into the third dress and know this is the one. It’s the tightest and the shortest, but I don’t look like Reese paid me to be there. I look sexy. The red satin looks like melted rubies against my body. It brings out the warmth in my hair and eyes, and the freckles that cover my body. Yeah, this is the one.
I open the door, ready to defend this dress because I know Emma loved the first one and Laney liked the second. Amy doesn’t like any, surprise, surprise.
“Okay, this is it. I know you guys liked the other ones, but I think I like this one.”
I stop and look up to find their mouths open and Amy glaring at me.
“Yep, definitely that one,” Emma comments, and Laney nods. “Boy, am I glad I don’t have a boyfriend on the team knowing you look like that and are with them all the time.”
Emma flicks her eyes to Amy, and I have to cover my chuckle with a cough behind my hand, knowing she’s saying it on purpose to rile up Amy. And it works because she stands and storms from the room without another word.
I turn to the girls, and we laugh to ourselves. Emma links her arms in ours and tugs us close. “Let’s go find dates for the sports ball.”
I pause. “The what?”
Laney cranes her head around Emma’s body. “The sports ball. It’s like a big, fancy dance to raise money for the athletic departments and other charities.”
“Hasn’t Reese asked you?” Emma asks.
My heart sinks, and I shake my head. “Uh, no. He hasn’t.”
A beat of silence falls over us.
“Well, I’m sure he’s going to.” Laney is such a sunshine human, ready to brighten anyone’s day.
“Yeah, it’s not for, like, three weeks anyway.”
Three weeks? That’s it? Why wouldn’t he ask me? I guess we only officially got together recently, but he hasn’t even mentioned it. Does he not want to go with me? He has no issues being with me anywhere else, so why not at some fancy fundraiser thing? A dark thought clouds the back of my mind. In three weeks, I’ll still be early in the pregnancy, but it’s possible I could start showing…
Nope. Not doing that. Straightening, I swallow back everything I’m feeling. And not even a second later, my phone goes off like he knows what is running through my head. I read the text across the screen.
Reese: Amy mentioned you wanting to meet us there. Is that true? We are in the lobby if not.
Of course she told him that. She really is insane, but oddly, I’m thankful for her insaneness right now. I need to straighten myself up before the dinner.
Me: Yeah, running a little behind.
Reese: I can wait.
Me: No, you go. We will be there shortly.
I drop my hand with my phone in it and meet my friends’ eyes. It’s obvious they are worried.
“I’m fine.”
“He probably just assumes you’re going together. Maybe doesn’t think asking is all that important,” Laney tells me with a halfhearted smile.
Yeah, that actually sounds like something Reese would do. He demanded I be his girlfriend, didn’t ask. So maybe he is thinking the same for the fundraiser.
Still, I can’t help but wonder if maybe he’s not as proud about becoming a dad as he seems to be, but that could just be my nerves about becoming a mom rearing their ugly head.