Page 38 of Penalties and Proposals

“Ah,” I say, finding the bright spot, “See! There’s a fine line between love and hate, isn’t there? We are the poster couple for that.”

Willa ignores my attempt at humor. “If I weren’t a factor, you’d probably take that NHL contract no matter what. So, I think you need to go and figure out whatyouwant. And I need to figure out some things for myself, too.”

The finality in her voice makes my stomach flip end over end. The happy butterflies that were there for the ride, coming up the elevator with me, have dissipated. In their place, a wave of sadness washes across me.

There’s nothing left to say. Willa walks over to her door and opens it. Taking the hint, I slowly make my way back out into the corridor. I turn around to say goodbye, and she kisses me on the cheek.

“I’m not saying anything is absolute,” she says, stepping away from me. It’s one step too far in my book. “I simply need a minute to catch my breath. It’s been fast with us. Intense.”

“This isn’t over,” I whisper to her, my hands flexing, wanting to grab her, but I don’t. “Right?”

Willa looks down at the floor for a moment before dragging her gaze to mine. “I hope not,” she says.

It’s honest. It’s brutal. It’s truthful.

But it hurts.

CHAPTER 16

WILLA

I have spentthe past few days working really hard to get Noah out of my head.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t work. Trying to be the smarter adult, I think I could have pushed him away. Yet there’s a part of me that thinks it’s logical that we take this time to think. I mean, I know I needed to. And part of my why has come to a head with today’s video call with Frank.

The week since I saw Noah last has flown by. I’ve been busy filling out loan forms in my spare time, trying to see if I could get help to surprise my mom while juggling my work schedule. My actual game day photos were done after the second game because of other assignments I was asked to do.Athletic Edgehad gotten someone else to cover the games so I could wrap up my other deadlines, and most importantly, finish all the edits on Noah’s pictures for the feature they’re running on him next month.

As I glance across the room to where Noah’s jersey still sits folded on the top of my suitcase, a pit forms in my stomach. I’ve not been to a game since the second one where Noah scored, but like the rest of the town, and the hockey fandom, of course I know they lost that third game. In my mind, I figure he forgot towear his Blue Rock Thrush pin, but never mind. I hope he took it okay, not that we’ve spoken. We’ve texted, but I’ve not heard his voice in days.

Sitting at the table in my hotel room, I tap the button on my computer to join the meeting. True to his usual form, Frank is already there, grinning as I log on.

“Willa!” he practically shouts. Bless his heart, this man thinks a video call means talk louder. Someone needs to explain mic placement to him.

“Hey there,” I say, trying to loosen my shoulders. “How’s New York?”

“The magazine is busy, but we’re loving all of the content you’ve sent. You know, we’ve heard rumors thatSports Illustratedwants to get a hold of you and make you a full-time employee.”

“Really?” I hadn’t heard that, but wow. I’ll take it. “All from the shots I’ve taken here?”

“All of it.” He laughs. “But, I’m hoping this conversation we have today will keep you from thinking of anyone else except us. First, though, are you almost done with the edits and tweaks to those pictures that are due?”

“You’ll have everything tomorrow morning, boss,” I say, giving him a little salute. “It’ll hit your shared folder by midnight at the latest.” I’d already planned a night hunched over the computer in pajamas making sure everything was ready. In reality, I’d rather be out trying to find that bird, but this needs to happen now.

“That’s why we adore you, Willa,” he says, his voice softening. “Now, before I get into my pitch to lock you in as our senior photography editor, you emailed saying you had something you wanted to tell me.”

I can’t stop my jaw from going slack. I’m surprised it doesn't hit the desk with so much force it breaks the table. I have to look comical; even Frank starts laughing.

“You gonna take the job, or what?” he asks.

“You bet I want to,” I say, holding my heart, “but, there’s something I need to tell you.”

I grab the necklace I’m wearing and clutch it like a good luck charm. Ugh. I should have kept that pin for myself. My eyes dart around the room, looking for an escape hatch. Anyone else in here about to throw themselves under the bus at the precise moment they’re being offered the job they want? Steeling myself, I clasp my hands and place them on the table in front of me. “I know in journalism it’s not a good look for someone who works for a publication to get involved with their subject.”

Frank’s eyebrows hike up. “Go on.”

“Well, I kind of … did.” I hold my hands up, keeping my game face. “I didn’t enter into a relationship with them, but I did go on a few dates and spend time with someone I was taking photos of for your magazine.”

Frank closes his eyes and goes quiet. Too quiet. I wonder if I was in the same room if I’d be able to feel the love he obviously has for my work starting to fade away already.

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