Thursday morning hit with an impulse I hadn’t had since college: checking my social media. Ridiculous, yes. But apparently, sitting on the shoulders of a pro hockey coach in a WAG-approved outfit was enough to shake my wild side loose.
The photos had gone live last night. All eighteen of us from the shoot received the full drop and were asked—okay, heavily nudged by team- captain-turned-PR-activist, Asher—to post, tag, and blast the fun across every platform. Even the Tahoe West Panthers’ official account shared them.
I’d accepted more friend requests in the past twelve hours than I had in the last four years combined. High school acquaintances, college classmates I barely remembered except through blurry group shots, were suddenly “so happy for me”.
And the pictures were stunning: golden, vibrant, full of joy. There I was, on Sean’s shoulders, arms thrown out like a circus act, laughing as if my morning hadn’t started with a headline dissecting my love life. A few photos. A thousand ripple effects.
The second glances and questions that didn’t come yesterday definitely were coming today. Great.
What was the polite phrase forplease stop staring, and no, I’m not giving a quote?
My bedroom door crack opened, and Sam’s head poked through.
“Mel?”
She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. I could feel her excitement from my bed.
“Vince messaged me,” she said.
I bolted upright. “What?”
“I know. I had no idea he still had my number. He said he can’t reach you.”
“What a surprise. Of course, I blocked him.”
“Totally valid, but that’s not why I’m like this.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re like what?”
She sat on my bed and grabbed my arm as if to stabilize herself. “You, Melanie Boyd, are all over social media. Sitting on the shoulders of one of the most wanted GQ bachelors of the entire West Coast.”
“Oh my Lord,” I muttered, flopping back on the pillow. “Please don’t say it like that.”
“It’s a fact.” She pointed at me. “You’ve basically been claimed publicly, in a coordinated group photo shoot straight out ofTheSummer I Turned Pretty.Your life just got set to a killer playlist, sis.”
“I didn’t plan this.”
“No one plans this kind of thing. It’s the energy, the outfit, fun poses, you up there with glowing skin peeking under that cute top. Honestly, if youhadplanned it, my jaw would be on the floor, and I’d ask for your blueprint.”
My neck burned. “Can we not do this before coffee?”
She grinned. “Let me have my moment before I move halfway across the country.”
“Fine. Take five.” I smiled, but the shift in her expression pulled me back.
“Truth is…” Her hands twisted at the edge of the blanket. “Seeing you in these pictures, it makes me realize something.”
I tilted my head. “What?”
She let out a soft, almost embarrassed laugh. “I’ve been so focused on school, research… I left no space for anything else. You know, like dating. I always told myself there’d be time, but…” She waved her hand, brushing it off, though her voice caught and gave her away. “Now I’m not so sure.”
I reached over, squeezing her arm. “Sam, your time will come. You’re a total catch, whether you believe it or not. No amount of research could hide those killer eyes or that hair people would pay to have.”
“Thanks.” She smiled, but there was still a softness in her voice. “For now, I’m… a little jealous of my sister.”
The honesty landed, warm and bittersweet.
“Thank the Lord. If you didn’t feel anything, I’d be worried,” I teased.
