Boston
1253 Words
Boston greeted them with cold rain and flashing cameras.
The Frosthawks had barely stepped off the team bus before reporters crowded the hotel entrance, shouting questions at every player who walked past.
“Carter! Over here!”
“Captain Hayes! One photo!”
“Liam! How confident are you heading into Game One?”
Camera flashes illuminated the gray afternoon like tiny bolts of lightning.
Ava instinctively stepped aside, allowing the players to take center stage.
She’d spent years on the other side of those cameras.
She knew the drill.
Keep moving.
Never stop.
Never let them smell weakness.
Especially if you were Liam Hayes.
He didn’t slow once.
He acknowledged reporters with a polite nod, signed two jerseys for young fans waiting behind the barricade, then disappeared inside the hotel with the rest of the team.
Professional.
Effortless.
Untouchable.
Exactly the image the world adored.
⸻
Inside the hotel lobby, Melissa gathered everyone together.
“Okay, everyone!”
She distributed key cards one by one.
“Training starts tomorrow at eight. Media availability at noon. Curfew is eleven tonight.”
Ava silently prayed.
Please.
Tell me the room assignment was fixed.
Melissa smiled.
“No changes to room assignments.”
Ava closed her eyes.
Of course.
“Here you go.”
Melissa handed her two key cards.
Room 1812.
Still.
Ava sighed.
“This is unbelievable.”
“I know.”
Melissa lowered her voice.
“Three nights.”
“It only takes three seconds to murder someone.”
Melissa laughed nervously.
“I’m choosing to believe that’s a joke.”
“It depends.”
⸻
The elevator ride was painfully quiet.
Just the two of them.
Liam stood beside her with one hand tucked into his pocket while the other held his duffel bag.
Neither spoke.
The numbers climbed.
Ten.
Eleven.
Twelve.
Ava suddenly became fascinated with the ceiling.
Anything was better than looking at him.
The elevator dinged.
Eighteenth floor.
Liam stepped aside.
“Ladies first.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I know where the door is.”
“I wasn’t questioning your navigation skills.”
She unlocked the suite.
The moment the door opened…
She froze.
It was enormous.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Boston Harbor.
A marble kitchen.
A spacious living room.
A fireplace.
Fresh flowers.
A dining table for eight.
And thankfully…
Two separate bedrooms on opposite ends of the suite.
“Well…”
Liam placed his bag beside one door.
“…at least they weren’t lying.”
Ava quickly claimed the bedroom farthest from his.
“Mine.”
“I assumed.”
She pushed open the door.
King-sized bed.
Private bathroom.
Walk-in closet.
Everything was perfect.
Except for one thing.
The connecting door.
Between both bedrooms.
Locked.
Thank God.
She tested the handle anyway.
Locked.
Good.
Very good.
She wasn’t paranoid.
Just cautious.
When she stepped back into the living room, Liam was unpacking his hockey gear.
Helmet.
Gloves.
Practice jerseys.
Everything looked meticulously organized.
He always had been like that.
Even in college.
Everything in its place.
She hated remembering things like that.
“You still organize everything by color.”
His hands stopped moving.
“So you noticed.”
“I noticed because it’s ridiculous.”
“It works.”
“It looks obsessive.”
“It is.”
For the first time…
He smiled.
Not the polite smile he’d worn for reporters.
Not the sarcastic smirk he’d aimed at her yesterday.
A real smile.
Small.
Crooked.
Familiar.
Because that smile belonged to the Liam she’d fallen in love with.
Not Captain Hayes.
Not hockey’s golden boy.
Just…
Liam.
The moment lasted less than a second.
Then his phone rang.
The smile disappeared.
Reality returned.
He answered immediately.
“Coach.”
Ava turned away, pretending to organize her camera equipment.
She wasn’t eavesdropping.
She couldn’t help overhearing.
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“I’ll handle it.”
Another pause.
“No.”
His voice remained calm.
“It won’t be a problem.”
Ava frowned.
What wouldn’t be a problem?
He ended the call.
“The coach?”
He nodded.
“He wanted to make sure the room situation wasn’t awkward.”
Ava let out a dry laugh.
“A little late for that.”
“He offered to move me.”
“You said no?”
“I did.”
She blinked.
“Why?”
His answer came without hesitation.
“Because you shouldn’t have to keep walking away from things because of me.”
Her heart skipped.
She looked away first.
Dangerous.
Everything about this was dangerous.
⸻
That evening, the team attended a sponsor dinner.
As the embedded journalist, Ava was expected to cover the event.
The ballroom sparkled with crystal chandeliers and expensive champagne.
Sponsors mingled with executives while photographers captured every handshake.
Liam looked painfully handsome in a tailored black tuxedo.
She hated noticing.
She hated noticing everything.
His laugh.
The way he loosened his bow tie halfway through the evening.
The way he patiently posed for every photograph.
He belonged here.
In a room full of influential people.
She wondered if he still remembered the tiny apartment they’d once shared.
Where dinner had usually been instant noodles.
Where they’d danced barefoot in the kitchen because they couldn’t afford dates.
“Ava?”
She turned.
A handsome man in his early thirties smiled warmly.
“You’re Ava Bennett, right?”
“Yes.”
He extended his hand.
“Ethan Brooks.”
Recognition flashed across Ava’s face.
Ethan Brooks. The newest broadcaster for the National Sports Network.
“I’ve read your articles for years,” Ethan said with a friendly smile.
Ava smiled politely. “Thank you.”
“I’ve actually wanted to meet you for a while. Your playoff coverage last season was incredible.”
“That’s kind of you to say.”
His smile was easy and genuine, putting her at ease almost immediately.
They chatted about hockey, journalism, and the playoff season.
For the first time all day…
Ava relaxed.
Across the ballroom…
Liam noticed.
He had been speaking with sponsors when Ethan laughed at something Ava said.
His eyes drifted toward them.
Stayed there.
Longer than necessary.
His conversation faltered.
One sponsor followed his gaze.
“You know them?”
Liam picked up his whiskey.
“One of them.”
His tone was unreadable.
Cold.
He watched Ethan place a hand lightly against Ava’s back as they moved through the crowd.
A perfectly innocent gesture.
Liam’s grip tightened around his glass.
Hard enough that his knuckles turned white.
A teammate standing beside him chuckled.
“You okay, Captain?”
Liam took a slow sip of whiskey.
Without looking away.
“I’m fine.”
The teammate followed his gaze.
“Oh.”
Understanding dawned.
“Should I be worried for the guy?”
Liam’s jaw flexed.
“I don’t know.”
A pause.
“He should probably keep his hands to himself.”
The teammate laughed.
“I thought you said your ex was ancient history.”
Liam finally looked away.
His expression unreadable once more.
“So did I.”
Across the ballroom, Ava suddenly felt someone watching her.
She turned.
Their eyes met.
The room disappeared.
Music faded.
Conversations blurred.
Just like always.
Five years hadn’t weakened the pull between them.
If anything…
It had made it stronger.
Neither of them realized it yet.
But this assignment wasn’t going to reopen old wounds.
It was going to expose the truth they’d spent five years trying to bury.
They had never stopped belonging to each other.
- Writer
