I finish getting changed and grab my bits together, I feel a lot better now, but I have a thing about driving when even slightly under the influence, and I would never risk it, I order an uber and wait on the sofa.
I don't quite feel like I should accept James's offer of a lift.
He did exactly what he said and text me this afternoon asking how I was and if I needed him to pick me up.
I thank the driver and make my way to the entrance. The September sun is out which makes it warm in the sun but crisp in the wind.
I make my way through the arena and notice its very quiet.
I go to James office, but the lights are off and there's no one inside.
Maybe the rink.
I walk out to an eerily empty, half lit rink.
Nope.
I swear James said 4pm practice.
I make my way down the stairs to what feels like basement levels and notice a changing room with the gold platted team name etched into it.
I hear muffled voices coming from inside.
Phew.
I get to the door and freeze.
Do I just walk in?
I can't. It's a changing room filled with probably half naked men inside.
Oh god.
Half-naked hot men.
I look down at my outfit and make a mental note to buy some more figure flattering attire.
I'm sure Megs can help me on that subject.
She's always begging me show off my flattering curves and ample cleavage and to stop dressing like a teenage schoolgirl.
I snap out of my thoughts and knock on the door.
I hear silence from inside.
Oh shit.
God this is embarrassing.
I hear a muffled, "yeah?" come from inside.
"...oh..hi..it's uh me Liv, can I come in? I didn't wanna walk in if you boys weren't...clothed," I reply.
Fuck Liv get a grip.
Confidence.
Come on.
"Yeah, were all good, you can come in," I hear a voice respond.
Here goes nothing.
I step inside and see a large group of males sat around on the benches and gathered on one knee.
James and his other two coaches standing in front of them by the white boards with random drawings and arrows on.
All eyes are on me.
Gulp.
I smile at James, and he gives me the most incredible smile back.
This man really has two sides to him.
I like this side.
"Hi, sorry, please carry on," I gesture to the white board.
"No, no you're fine Liv...boys, this is Olivia, our new team photographer," he says.
The boys give out a collective round of hi's and hello's and nod their heads to me.
"Please call me Liv," I respond, giving a half wave to them.
YOU ARE READING
Love on Ice
RomanceOlivia is an aspiring photographer. She has spent her life dedicated to capturing moments. In her final year at uni she has managed to get a once in a life time job working as the official photographer for the city's ice hockey team. Things are fina...