Page 11 of Faking It For Real

"That's the spirit. Really lead with that 'or whatever' part. Women love that." Dylan clapped me on the shoulder. "Look at you, being all mature and responsible."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. I'm your best friend and your conscience, all wrapped up in one devastatingly handsome package."

Before I could respond, Tyler rejoined us, now changed into street clothes. "Hey, the photographer and her friend are waiting outside. Thought you might want to know."

I stared at him. "Why would I want to know that?"

"Because you're going to apologize?" Tyler suggested. "And because her friend is kind of cute, and I think Dylan should meet her."

Dylan perked up. "Is she the brunette who was sitting in the stands? The one taking notes?"

"That's her," Tyler confirmed. "She's a reporter for the paper."

"Perfect." Dylan grinned. "Wright needs to make nice with the photographer, and I need to charm the reporter. Two birds, one stone."

"I didn't agree to this," I protested, but they were already gathering their bags.

"Too late," Dylan said cheerfully. "Operation Public Relations is a go."

Ten minutes later, Dylan, Tyler, and I were outside the arena, approaching Mia and her friend, who were engaged in intense conversation that halted abruptly when they spotted us.

Mia's posture immediately stiffened, her hand moving protectively to the camera bag at her side. Despite myself, I noticed things I'd missed in the heat of our confrontation—the delicate line of her jaw, the determined set of her chin, the way her dark hair fell in waves around her face. She was actually quite pretty, in a fierce, challenging way.

I shoved that observation firmly aside.

"Hey," I said, my voice gruffer than I'd intended.

"Hey yourself," she replied, wariness evident in her tone.

A hush settled over the group, but Dylan—never one to let silence win—stepped forward, flashing an easy smile.

“Clearly we need proper introductions,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m Dylan Parker—defenseman and Ethan Wright’s far more approachable roommate. That quiet type next to me is Tyler, our goalie.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow before taking his hand. “Olivia Martinez—campus reporter and Mia’s equally charming roommate. And you’ve met the incomparable Mia yourself.”

Dylan’s grin widened. “Well then, looks like we’re already on common ground.”

Olivia looked unimpressed. "Yes, our taste in friends is equally questionable."

"Ouch." Dylan clutched his chest. "And here I thought we were having a moment."

"The moment has passed," Olivia said dryly, but I caught the hint of a smile she tried to suppress.

Another silence fell, more awkward than the first. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to remember what a proper apology sounded like. Before I could figure it out, Dylan jumped in again.

"So, we were thinking of heading toBrewed Sunshinefor coffee—to properly welcome you to the world ofWolveshockey coverage. Would you like to join us?”

"We actually have class—" Mia began, but Olivia cut her off.

"We'd love to." She ignored Mia's glare. "I have some questions about the team for my article anyway."

Dylan beamed. "Perfect! Lead the way, Tyler."

The walk to the campus coffee shop was excruciating. Dylan and Olivia walked ahead, already engaged in animated conversation that occasionally erupted into laughter. Tyler meandered alongside them, occasionally contributing to their discussion. Which left me walking next to Mia, both of us maintaining a careful foot of space between us.

"So," I finally said, desperate to break the suffocating silence. "You're the new photographer."

---