"Hello," she said, trying to shake the sleep from her voice.
"Look outside."
Hillary got out of bed and pulled back the curtains. Everything was blanketed in what looked to be a good 10-12 inches of snow, and it was still coming down.
"I knew we should have left last night," she grumbled.
"The airports are closed down. We have an extra day in the schedule since we don't play Vancouver until the day after tomorrow, but it looks like we are grounded here."
"It's only November," Hillary groaned. "I'm not prepared for this level of snow yet."
"It's November in Calgary," Sasha reminded her.
"The players and the coaching staff are meeting after breakfast to figure out what to do. But it looks like we are snowed in, at least for the night."
"Yeah, let's meet at breakfast and game plan."
"Good," Sasha said. "I think this is a really great chance for some behind-the-scenes footage, maybe filming some get to know the player's video, or day in the life—" Sasha continued listing content ideas. All of which Hillary was sure would be fantastic ideas, but she had stopped listening.
There was a part of her that loved the snow. A tiny part called to her and wanted to go play in the snow, but that was silly. And honestly, that part was overshadowed by the part of her that hated disruptions to the schedule. This would be a headache for the travel manager and the meetings they had scheduled in Vancouver.
She pulled up her calendar to see what needed to be moved around. But then something caught her eye against the backdrop of white. There was a blue hat and coat, followed by another. She would recognize it anywhere. She'd had the jacket last night.
A smile grew across her face as she watched Murphy and Wes out in the snow. They threw snowballs at each other, and beforeshe knew it, they were joined by two other players. She knew Sasha would be sad to miss this, but then she saw a head of red hair out there with his phone trained on them. It looked like Conner had it taken care of.
She should go get in the shower and get ready for the day. Yet she couldn't stop watching the guys out there in the snow. When was the last time she did something like that? She couldn't remember the last time she just let go and gave over to the joy of it all.
The gala.
That night, she had let herself live in the moment. She had let herself live her best life, repercussions be damned.
There was a blur of movement and laughter with the other players. He’d tackled Sven into a drift, white flakes dusting his dark hair, his grin wide and unguarded. Something inside her had cracked—bittersweet and dangerous.
They were too different. He was all beginnings and open roads. She was . . . not.
She stayed at the window until Murphy had gone in. There was a part of her that wondered what it would look like to give things a go with him. One thing she knew was that she would smile every single day.
After getting ready, she made her way to the banquet hall. The organization had turned it into a makeshift meeting room with tables pushed together, staff and players scattered in little groups, and a half-hearted buffet steaming against one wall.
Hillary tucked her phone into her blazer pocket, her call about snow-day filming opportunities still buzzing in her mind. She’d been efficient, all business, just the way she liked it.
“Morning,” Sasha said as Hillary slid into a seat next to her with her camera already out to film some behind-the-scenes content.
“Morning. Let’s keep the players engaged—snow or no snow, we can spin this as bonding content,” Hillary replied. Crisp. Controlled.
And then Murphy walked in.
He was still a little damp from outside, cheeks pink from the cold, hair messy in a way that made him look even younger. He carried two plates from the buffet, balancing them like he’d done it a hundred times, and scanned the room. His eyes found hers instantly, brightening in a way that was entirely too obvious.
Hillary’s stomach twisted. She looked away, focusing on her muffin as if it required all her concentration.
“What a wonderful morning,” Murphy said as he made his way over to her table. He plopped into the chair beside her, already stealing one of the sausages off his own plate. Around them, conversation buzzed, but it felt like everyone had gone quiet, watching.
Hillary cleared her throat. “We’ll be filming some team content later. Snowball fights, maybe a sledding challenge. Sasha will organize it.”
Murphy leaned back in his chair, completely unbothered. “Sounds fun. Want me to pull you on a sled?”
Her eyes snapped to him. Teasing, warm, just between them. Hillary’s pulse jumped. She forced her lips into a tight smile. “I’m clearly not included in player bonding.”
