Page 34 of The Prince and the Puck
“I think the calendar’s a great idea. And I have a friend who’s a professional photographer. I don’t know her schedule, but I could ask about next week if you haven’t already lined one up?”
“That would be amazing. Thank you.”
I stepped closer to Lizzy’s side, my arm brushing against her elbow. Her skin was soft, and I could feel the slight tremble in her body. “Killed it, Lizzy.”
“Thank you,” she said, smiling and relaxing a bit. “I honestly think telling you first was good practice for presenting it to the coach.”
“Well, he bought in. Success and celebration.” I had no idea why I said that. It didn’t make any sense. I felt like an idiot.
But Lizzy made me nervous sometimes.
CHAPTER 20
LIZZY
DEEZ NUTZ
The next week,the Wombats had a bye, which was perfect because Derek’s photographer friend Janice had an opening. I met her at the arena in the morning, just as the guys were finishing practice on the ice. She set up some lights and a backdrop, though we ultimately decided it wasn’t necessary. The Wombats’ arena itself was a perfectly good background, but we kept the backdrop set up just in case.
“You know, I normally spend my days photographing children,” Janice told me as we set up. “So this is going to be a nice change of pace.”
I tried to imagine what a job photographing children might be like, and all I could picture was pure chaos. Once, I had orchestrated a picnic on the green in front of the palace for all the nearby children. To put it lightly, it was a shitshow. Toddlers running everywhere, screaming, literally pooping their pants. I mean, I know that goes hand in hand with having kids, but I just don’t think that’s something I could handle. At least not right away. Then again, I guess once you go through all the trouble of having a kid, you’re pretty aware that this comes with it.
But I digress.
“Yeah, although the Wombats often do act like children,” I pointed out.
“Yes, maybe,” Janice said. “But at least these children are hot.”
She had a point.
Rock Stevens was the first of the Wombats to be photographed, and the man had no compunction whatsoever about exposing his rear end. The idea was to have the players pose in various states of undress—wearing their hockey gear and sort of not wearing it at the same time. Rock skated out onto the ice, carrying all his gear and wearing only boxer briefs with a huge squirrel on the front and the words “Deez Nutz” pointing at the center.
I felt my face heat, and I didn’t even bother trying to stop it. But Janice? Janice was a special shade of scarlet I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen before.
“Rock,” I said, my voice coming out higher than I intended.
Rock stood before us, flexing and posing without any direction whatsoever.
“Yes?” he asked.
“I thought we’d start with all your hockey gear on, and then maybe take off a few select items as we progress.”
I had thought this through a little, and at least with Declan’s photos, I wanted to stay somewhere between G and PG-rated. Rock, on the other hand, was clearly prepared to go somewhere between R and X.
Rock’s face fell. It seemed we had crushed one of his dreams—one that apparently involved appearing nude in a calendar.
“Sure, yeah, whatever.” He skated back off the ice, took off his skates, and started putting on his full gear.
A few minutes later, Janice and I had both regained our usual skin tones, and Rock reappeared—fully clothed this time.
Janice took over. “That’s great, okay. Can you hold your stick?—”
“Oh, I hold my stick plenty,” Rock grinned.
“Rock, that’s enough.” Wow. I had just channeled a kindergarten teacher. I didn’t know I had it in me.
“Yeah, sorry, Lizzy.” Rock looked ashamed—as he should.
