A Hockey Player's Guide To Deception

Chapter Forty-Three

Six months later

Kayla let out one last sigh as she finished off the final braid, her fingers tingling from hours of work. She'd been on her feet since eight that morning and, truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to collapse into a chair and sleep. Outside, the usually blue sky had stretched into a soft blend of pink and orange...definitely past six.

Hair stylists deserved far more credit than they were given. She loved what she did, but she knew she couldn't do this for the rest of her life. The salon often closed later than it was meant to, and tonight was no exception. All she wanted was to go home, sink into a warm bath, and drink a hot cup of tea.

"Oh! That young man is still waiting for you," the older lady Kayla had just finished with exclaimed.

Kayla smiled softly and turned to look across the street. Louis sat on the bench, his head buried in a book. He always did. It didn't matter how far his school was from where Kayla worked and lived—he made sure he saw her every day. On nights when Kayla had to work late, he waited for her right there, across from the shop.

Her heart warmed at the sight of him

"He always does that," Cat, another stylist, commented, winking at Kayla.

"Come on, you can go now. That boy's waited long enough." Nolan's mother, Jessie, nudged Kayla in the shoulder.

"I'll catch up with you later," Kayla reassured her.

"Okay." 

Kayla slipped into the back room, the noise of the salon fading the moment the door shut behind her. The space was cramped and warm, smelling faintly of hairspray and conditioner. She reached for her bag, fingers fumbling as she shoved her phone inside, then tugged on her hoodie, shrugging it over her shoulders. Her feet ached as she changed out of her work shoes, moving on pure habit more than energy. After a quick glance at her reflection in the smudged mirror-tired eyes, loose strands of hair escaping her braid, she grabbed the rest of her things and rushed back out.

"I'll see you later, Jess!"

"Of course, darling."

Kayla flashed her one last smile before shutting the door behind her. A rush of cool air met her the moment she stepped outside, brushing against her skin and easing the heat she'd carried all day. Her hair had grown to her shoulders, the ends curling slightly; she'd been thinking about cutting it again. Louis had once said a pixie cut would suit her.

She crossed the street, her footsteps light as a feather. She wanted to scare him. Slowing her pace, she crept up behind him, careful not to make a sound. Just as her fingers reached for the edge of his book, he glanced up.

She groaned.

He grinned from ear to ear.

"Ugh, I wanted to scare you." She frowned as she plopped down beside him, which only made his grin widen.

"I think it's best you give up at this point, Kingston."

Her brows lifted at the name.

"Kingston? Since when you call me Kingston?"

"You don't like it anymore?" he teased, gently nudging her shoulder.

"No, I don't."

She met his gaze, her expression firm but playful. "I'd prefer it if you called me Kayla, Auclair."

"What about Mrs. Auclair?" he asked, leaning forward and lowering his voice.

A warm glow spread through her before she could stop it, heat rushing to her cheeks until they burned crimson.