“Are you going to show your mum the photos? Of the games, I mean.”
Her laughter drops off. Her gaze falls to her lap.
“She doesn’t think photography is an actual job,” she admits softly. “She says it’s a hobby. Something that won’t pay the bills. She wants me to do something safe. Responsible.”
I frown. “That’s bullshit.” She looks up, startled. “You’re brilliant, Rose,” I say, not softening a single word. “Anyone with eyes can see that.”
She blinks rapidly. “You’ve only seen a few shots.”
“I’ve seen enough. And the team’s seen the rest. Every guy on that bus looked at those photos like you’d made them invincible.”
Her lips part, shock and a kind of pride blooming in her eyes.
“You don’t need her permission to be who you are,” I add quietly. “You choose your life.”
She exhales shakily, like she’s been waiting years for someone to say it. I want to punch her mum’s doubts into a wall. I want to protect Rose from the weight she carries alone.
“You make it sound easy,” she whispers.
“It’s not,” I admit. “But it’s easier when someone believes in you.”
She’s looking at me as though I just gave her something precious. And maybe I did. The atmosphere shifts around us, no longer awkward or new. Something settled. Solid. She reaches for my hand and I lace our fingers together without hesitation.
“Thank you,” she says. And it feels like more than thanks. It feels like trust.
I squeeze her hand gently. “Anytime.”
A soft, shy smile curves her lips, and I fall a little harder.
She finishes the last bite of egg and hops off the stool. “I should head back soon. My friend will wonder where I am.”
I don’t hide my disappointment well. She laughs and lifts onto her toes to kiss my cheek.
“I’ll see you later?” she asks.
“You’d better.” It comes out as more of a promise than a question.
I take her to the door, reluctant to let go of her even for a second. She pauses, fingers brushing my hoodie drawstring like she might change her mind and stay. But she doesn’t. She gives me one last lingering look, cheeks flushed, then slips out into the hallway.
When the door clicks shut, the flat feels cold. I stare at the door like my body wants to chase after her. Drag her back. Wrap her up and refuse to let anything hurt her, especially me.
My phone buzzes again. I grab it, expecting Talia, ready to unleash hell. It’s not her.
Ryan: Morning skate – 9am tomorrow. Turn up on time, lover boy. We can smell your ego from here.
I roll my eyes but a smile tugs at my mouth anyway. I shoot back a reply.
Cal: Eat shit. See you tomorrow.
Training. Focus. Season. That’s the plan. That’s my job. It’s what I’m good at. But I want more than the rink. I want the girl who slept in my arms and laughed in my kitchen. The girl whomakes me feel the future isn’t just pressure and noise. I scrub a hand over my face and let the truth settle as heavy as it is exhilarating. I’m falling for her.
Fast.
And I’m barely holding on to the brakes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CALLUM
