Twisted Collide: The new sports romance in the Redville Saints series

The early morning sun gleams across the sky, and I take a moment to appreciate the scenery.

Normally, I don’t come to work this early, but I have to help with a social media campaign today. All I have to do is take pictures of the guys during practice. Action shots are one thing I can do.

Easy enough, I think, as I grab my phone from my bag and head in the direction where I might find the team.

As I step inside and head toward the rink, skates slicing through the ice and pucks clinking against sticks echo around the arena.

They’re already practicing, which is a relief. The last thing I need is Dane’s attitude when I’m just trying to do my job.

I nod to Hudson, who skates by me, and then I take pictures rapidly. Hudson does exactly what I hoped he would—putting on a show for the camera. The man is nothing if not a showboat. He spins around, looking more like a figure skater than a hockey player, and I snort.

Idiot.

Although I’ve never taken pictures of the guys before, they don’t seem bothered by me. They are used to me doing weird tasks. Although most odd tasks are for the guys, Laurie sometimes asks for my help doing grunt work. Luckily, those times are few and far between because I don’t love moving equipment or collecting towels. Social media marketing is more my speed.

The last task was to essentially interview the guys, asking questions about how the Red Tails posted on their Instagram an old game where the guys were off, and wondered if the guys could pull off another championship this season. Needless to say, the answers were colorful.

Laurie then had me get inside information about each player to post to our socials. Dumb questions like their favorite food and the greatest movie of all time.

Dane’s answers were clipped and not genuine. I don’t know how I know this, but I just do. Hudson, on the other hand, kept to his typical flirtatious answers. Favorite food? Exotic fish, followed by a wink.

My nose scrunched at that one. I was not surprised that he would have some inappropriate response. It earned him a tongue-lashing from Aiden and a gut punch from Wolfe.

Today, when I look over at Dane, he looks more serious than usual. Which isn’t crazy ’cause the man rarely smiles.

Not true.

I’ve seen him smile.

A strange feeling lingers in the air whenever he’s around, and today, it’s worse. More tense.

Maybe it’s that he’s avoiding me. Or maybe it has absolutely nothing to do with me at all.

That’s more likely what’s going on.

My stomach twists at the thought, but I keep snapping away, hoping I won’t think about him if I take enough pictures of the other guys.

No such luck. No matter how hard I will myself not to look, I do. I can’t help it.

I’m obsessed, and I have to wonder if it’s actually him who has my attention or the fact he’s ignoring me, and I have some childhood issues about not being enough.

That’s something to unpack another time.

From across the ice, I see him look up. I’m not able to see his eyes clearly, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell he’s not happy. I click away, taking as many shots as I can.

Without even thinking, I head in his direction, swallowing hard to calm my racing heart as I continue to take picture after picture.

He glares in my direction, and as my hand hovers over the shutter, I look up from the camera and directly at him.

What did I do now? I’m just doing my job. Something I was ordered to do.

Why is he extra grumpy today?

My brain filters through the past few days. Have I done something to piss him off?

I haven’t really spoken to him since the bar.

He tears his gaze away, going about stretching. I force myself to take shots of the other guys, pushing Dane and his apparent irritation far from my mind, but before long, my eyes wander back to him.

He skates, and I watch as he does a few drills with his teammates. When he skates in my direction, I move in close.

“What are you doing?” he snaps, and I look up, a bit startled.

“Sorry?”

“Why are you taking pictures of me?”

I tilt my head. “I’m taking pictures of everyone. It’s my job.”

His eyes narrow, and he must realize he’s being ridiculous because his hard gaze softens.

“Are you okay?” I ask, not expecting him to answer me, but he moves closer to the ice’s edge.

“Yeah. Fine.”

“You sure? You look . . .” I try to find the right words. “Extra. Um, grumpy?”

His eyes go wide, and now I’m close enough to see the blue of his irises.

He really does have beautiful eyes. A stormy ocean turning and shifting with the wind and waves.

“Wow, you went there, Hellfire.”

I purse my lips and lift an eyebrow. “And you went there.”

He shrugs, looking not at all fazed by this interaction. “I did.”

“So . . . what’s the problem?” I ask, holding his stare.

“You.”

My mouth drops open, and I swear I look like a fish out of water struggling to breathe.

“Are you serious right now? Me?” My hand is wrapped tightly around the camera.

“I am,” he says so nonchalantly that slapping him seems like the best course of action.

But it’s not, and I can’t. Not if I want to keep this job.

“Okay, well, on that note.” I move to walk away, and a part of me thinks he will stop me, but he doesn’t.

Asshat.

I head in the direction of Hudson, hoping to rile up Dane in some capacity. Not because he cares about me but because he cares about his beloved coach’s warning to the team.

“Drinks tonight after practice?” I practically bat my eyelashes, laying on the flirtation a little more than I ought to.

He looks like the cat that ate the canary. “You got it.”

I offer my best smile, winking for good measure. “Great. See you later.”

I’m playing with fire, but it can’t be helped. The need to get a reaction from Dane, any reaction is so strong it’s damn near crippling.

If Dane can’t get his head out of his ass, it’s his problem. Not mine.

The days of locking myself in the guesthouse are over. If I’m going to make this situation work, I’m going to get a life.

Screw Dane and what he thinks.

I’m looking out for me from now on.