Picture Perfect (11 page)

“Junior. Next year, I’ll get to student teach.”

The warm eagerness in her tone was a nice contrast that seemed to warm her whole body. “That’s awesome. What grade do you want to teach?”

A genuine smile turned up her lips. “Not sure. Kindergarten or first grade would be fun, when the world is new and school is still cool. I’d like to eventually do guidance counseling and help troubled kids.”

“That’s amazing. I couldn’t be a teacher.”

She gave me a wry look. “No?”

“Nah. Wouldn’t have the patience for it.”

“But you have the patience to photograph people for hours on end.”

“What can I say? It’s my passion.”

The smile fell off her face at that last word, and I fumbled for a recovery, anything to bring back the happy version of my muse.

“Ah,” I said, spotting the neon sign of Logan’s. “We’re here.”

With midterms being this week, there weren’t that many people out. Sanhope was a typical college town, shutting down in the summer when a lot of the students went home, and booming during the school year.

Parking was easy to find. “Sit tight,” I told her, hopping out.

I hurried around to the other side of the car, but she had already gotten out and closed the door.

“I would have gotten it for you if you’d waited another five seconds,” I said, locking up.

A perfectly arched brow rose as she followed me to the door. “Guys still open car doors for girls?”

“Where I’m from they do.” I opened the door
to the bar and she smiled, saying thanks before ducking inside.

The hostess seated us quickly and we slid into a booth.

“So what’s good here?” she asked, looking over the menu.

“The chili-
bomb fries are out of this world,” I said, pointing to them. “So is the fried chicken sandwich.”

Her eyes widened. “And expensive too.”

“Don’t worry about the price. I’ve got this covered.”

Her head flashed up. “What? I can’t let you pay for mine.”

“It’s not open to discussion,” I said smoothly, enjoying how she colored and chewed on her lip. If she wasn’t careful, I was going to pin her to the table and kiss her right here.

I blinked.
Easy boy. Remember what happened with Darcy?
That was like splashing a cold bucket of water over my face.

Angel’s mood lightened as we ordered beer and made light conversation.

“Have you always wanted to be a teacher?” I asked, taking a swig of my brew.

Something shifted in her eyes, but it passed too quickly for me to be able to tell what it was. “No. Not exactly. It’s a passion I discovered later in life.” After a moment of silence, she added, “What about you? You always wanted to be a photographer?”

A warning went off in my head. “Sort of. I guess you could say I was born into it.”

“How so?”

“My father is a photographer.”

“Oh, well, that’s good. At least you have someone who understands your passion.”

I smiled tightly, swirling my beer.

Her e
yes narrowed as she studied me. They flicked up as loud laughter spilled into the room behind us. The moment her posture tensed, I looked over my shoulder - and froze.

Son of a bitch.

Three of the guys from my hockey team entered the room, with Brayden in the center. They laughed and joked as they meandered toward the bar, in direct line of view of our booth.

Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up
, I willed my brother.

A
s if sensing me watching him, his eyes found mine and his smile rolled up into a sneer. “I’ll be damned. If it isn’t the asshole who cost us the play-offs.”

I glared back at him, preparing for a fight. I knew when my brother was drunk from having to cover it up to Mom and Dad so many times; widened pupils, talking loudly, and all around acting like a gigantic dick.

Brayden looked past me. “Hey,” he said, staggering closer. “Isn’t that the slut on all those Fox Hunt advertisements?”

Angel’s face turned bright red and she looked away, stilling as if in doing so she’d disappear.

Jaw flexing, I set my beer down with a hard clank.

“Holy shit, Dev. You’ve graduated from Darcy and moved on to picking up trash. Oh
, how the mighty have fallen.”

I shot out of the booth so quickly I nearly sent my beer flying across the table.

“Whoa, easy Devin,” one of my teammates said, coming up between us. “Just back off.”

“Get out of my way, Trevor,” I growled, staring at my baby brother. “We need to have a talk.”

“I need you to get out of my life!” Brayden shouted. Alex, one of the other hockey players, grabbed him by the arm while Jason held him back by the other.

My face burned as people turned to stare. The memory of flashing cameras and hungry media brought on that crashing sensation, like everything was going to hell and nothing would be normal again. Backing up, I spun on my heel and sat back down at my booth, silently fuming and trying to tame my need for a bottle of whiskey and a pack of cigarettes. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t help but look back at my brother as the others dragged him away.

“I still owe you one,” Brayden said, touching the bruise on his jaw from where I’d clocked him the other day. His eyes flicked to Angel and he licked his lips, making her shudder, before disappearing back in the pool hall with the other guys.

“Can we go? Please?” she whispered, shaking slightly.

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “Of course.”

I held her jacket up while she put it on, trembling so badly it took her a few times to get her arms in the sleeves. I paid the bill and we hurried outside into the crisp
, early March air.

Neither of us said much on the way back, except when I asked her for directions to her place. It wasn’t far, thankfully. I felt ready to explode into a million pieces, too anxious to get back to my place and drown away the memories in the bottom of a bottle.

“Thanks for the outing,” she said, unbuckling her seat belt when we pulled up to her apartment building. “Sorry it had to end so soon.”

“That makes two of us. Oh, that reminds me. Could I have your cell phone number?”

She stared at me.

“In case I need to tell you about a location change for our photo
shoots?” I added politely.

“Oh.” She blinked. “Yeah. Sure.”

“I feel pretty stupid,” I said as she fished in her purse. “I meant to add that into the contract, but it slipped my mind.”

“No problem. I’ll call you, that way I’ll have your number and mine will show up in your call list. Shit.” The phone slipped from her hand as the corner caught on her purse strap, sending it toppling
onto the floorboard.

“I’ll get it,” I said, reaching for it at the same time she did.

We both froze the moment our fingers touched, looking up, our mouths a mere inch apart. This close, I could smell the sweet, soft scent of her strawberries and cream shampoo. Her lips parted as she sucked in a breath, her ruby-red mouth glistening in the lamp post light. God, just another couple inches, and my mouth could be on hers, sucking and teasing those gorgeous full lips of hers. A deep, carnal push blazed to life between my legs, nearly making me lose control. I wanted her. I had to fucking have her. I almost reached up to cradle her face when my phone buzzed, breaking the spell.

She snatched her phone up and snapped back into place like a rubber band. “What’s your number?” she asked, sounding a little breathless.

I rattled it off to her, and she hastily punched in the numbers, letting it ring twice before hanging up. “Well, have a good night,” she said, then hopped out of the car so quick it took me a moment to process she was gone.

I watched her speed walk up the sidewalk, waiting until she got safely inside before pulling away. The whole time, my phone hadn’t stop
ped buzzing. One glance at the caller ID made chills break out over my arms. A truck honked as I ran a stop sign, and I swerved to stay on the road after finally finding the
ignore
button. Merciful silence filled the car, leaving me feeling like the walls surrounding my perfect bubble were slowly closing in.

CHAPTER 13

Devin

FOR THE REST OF the week, I busied myself with working on my photos and trying to forget everything that had come before I met Angel. Mr. Stark approved of the shots, and thought Erik’s idea of my modeling was good. For a short while, things were fine because they were busy and I didn’t have any time to think. Then Saturday came and along with it hockey, and the first time I’d seen Brayden since the restaurant.

The atmosphere of the next hockey practice was as icy as the arena.
Despite the season being over, Coach kept us practicing year-round. He was always thinking ahead to the next season. This year, I wished he didn’t give a damn, because I sure didn’t. No one spoke to me at practice, and no one acknowledged me. The few times I was passed the puck, I only fucked-up the shot because my nerves felt so fried. The moment the whistle blew, signaling practice was over, I was the first to bolt for the showers.

“Hold up, Thompson. We need to talk.”

Reluctantly, I wheeled about and faced Coach. Brayden bumped into me as he passed, earning a frown from Erik. I still hadn’t told him what happened at the restaurant, not that he’d asked. Sapphire - or Tammara, apparently - was the new black, and the only conversation topic that interested him.

Coach waited for the others to file out, though a few lingered behind. One death glare from the coach sent them hurrying along.

“Listen.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t how to say this because I’ve known you since Varsity in high school, and you’re generally a good player, but you’ve just been off your game lately. Your teachers tell me you’re close to failing your classes, and you know you can’t stay on the team unless you maintain a 3.0 GPA.”

The cold lump of my heart sped up. “What are you saying?” I asked, my voice thick.

Coach’s expression sombered. “I can’t afford to lose another season because of you. You’re off the team.”

“What?” I started forward as he began walking away. “I can get it together. Please let me have another chance.”

He turned around. “Listen to you. Do you even believe the words coming out of your mouth? They sound mechanical, like something you know you’re supposed to say because it’s what the others would do. But is staying on this team what
you
want, Devin?”

Any space in my throat closed off. “I…”

Heavy silence spread between us.

“That’s what I thought.” Coach sighed. “Look, Devin, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to quit. Sometimes, we just need to close a chapter of our lives when it no longer enriches it.” He slapped a hand on my shoulder, which I barely felt. The numbness had returned. “Don’t be afraid of going against others’ wishes if it’s what’s best for you.”

He didn’t smile. In typical Coach fashion, he only grunted and nodded before walking away, leaving me standing alone and frozen like a statue.

The knowledge this was my last time on the ice hit me, and I wanted to throw my stick. But I didn’t. Instead, I put one foot in front of the other, forcing myself off the ice and down the hallway. With each step I gained strength. It felt good.

Right.

Feeling a sense of lightness I hadn’t felt before, I undressed in the now empty locker room, then showered. It was the most relaxed I’d been in months. Letting the water wash my cares away, I started humming a tune I’d heard on the radio and allowed my mind to wander where it wanted to go. Shampoo stung my eyes and I blinked, pulling myself out of a daydream. A very nice one that had dark green eyes ringed in gold and curves I could rest my hands on.

Killing the water, I raked the towel over my hair, then wrapped it around my torso. Steam hung around the room as I walked back to my locker, almost missing the dark figure standing in the corner. I whirled, preparing to take a swing, but when I saw who it was I nearly passed out from shock.

“Dad.”

Lionel Thompson stepped forward, decked out in his Sunday best. Every day was Sunday in Lionel’s closet. “Hello, Son.”

“Don’t call me that,” I spat, feeling my muscles knot again. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped forward, oblivious to my animosity. “You haven’t been returning any of my calls.”

“Guess there’s nothing to talk about that hasn’t already been said.” I turned, unable to stand the sight of him.

“You always were stubborn and proud, too much to see clearly.”

“I wonder where I get that from?” My hands fumbled to dig out my change of clothes. Every second in here with him made the air thinner. I had to get out. Now.

Lionel chuckled. “You get your talent from me, too.”

My chest pinched, knowing he meant “you couldn’t possibly have any talent of your own.” I remained silent as I dressed, hoping Lionel would grow bored and walk away.