ANASTASIA
When I returned to Kier’s apartment that night, I was very tired and my arms were completely sore from carrying my camera bag around the facility all afternoon.
I unlocked the front door and walked into the kitchen, and I was genuinely surprised to find him home. He was sitting alone in the kitchen with a protein shake in his hand, and the moment he saw me walk through the door and set his glass down.
"How did your first day go?" Kier asked, watching me drop my gear bags on the floor by the door. "Did you actually manage to do your work and stay out of the way like I told you to?"
"Yes, Kier, I stayed completely out of the way," I said, walking over to the refrigerator to find something to drink because my throat was dry. "I spent most of my afternoon in the media room editing the practice photos, and Mr. Hunts looked at them and told me my shots were excellent."
"Did any of the players on the roster bother you while you were down by the ice?" he asked, narrowing his eyes as he leaned forward on the counter. "I told you before that the team is under a lot of pressure this season, and the guys don’t need any extra distractions during a championship run."
"Nobody erred or bothered me at all," I replied, keeping my voice calm because at first, I successfully managed to avoid talking about Cassian or anything else that happened during the morning practice session. "Everyone was just focused on their skating drills, and I was just focused on doing my photography work."
But my good luck completely disappeared a second later when my phone suddenly started ringing loudly right on the kitchen table. The screen lit up brightly in the quiet kitchen, and Kier glanced down at the display and his entire face immediately froze.
The name was clear on the front of the screen.
Cassian Brooks.
That was all it took to change his mood completely.
"Why is Cassian Brooks calling your personal phone number at this hour?" Kier demanded, and his deep voice became very loud as he grabbed the phone off the table before I could even reach it. "Why does a rookie on my hockey team have your number, Ana?"
"I don’t know why he is calling me right now, Kier," I said, stretching my hand out to take my phone back from him, but he held it away from me and refused to let go. "He probably just got my contact information from the official staff directory or something like that."
I flatly refused to answer his questions any further because I knew exactly where the conversation would go if I kept trying to explain myself to him. Kier became increasingly suspicious, while I became increasingly annoyed by his constant questioning and his complete lack of trust in me.
Eventually, we started arguing.
"I warned you about this before you even took the job!" Kier shouted, slamming his hand down hard on the kitchen table. "I told you to stay away from my teammates, and I told you that they are completely off-limits, but you are already breaking my rules on your very first day with the franchise."
"I am twenty-two years old, Kier!" I screamed back at him, and my face turned very hot with anger. "I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions about who I talk to, and I do not need my older brother telling me what I can do with my life or my career."
"You are living under my roof right now, and you are working for my team," he said, glaring down at me with a stern look. "That means you need to listen to what I say."
"I am working for the Titans organization, not for you," I said, snatching my phone out of his hand as the call finally stopped ringing and went to my voicemail. "I am just trying to fix my career and take care of myself, and you are just making everything much harder for me."
Neither of us changed our minds during the long fight, and we ended the conversation completely frustrated with each other, and I grabbed my things and walked straight into my bedroom and locked the door so I would not have to look at his angry face for the rest of the night.
~
The next morning was complete and total chaos at the arena.
The entire team was actively preparing for their very first official road trip of the hockey season, and players were running around, trying to get all their bags and equipment ready for the bus departure. Luggages were piled up everywhere on the floor, and coaches were shouting instructions over the loud noise.
One defensive player completely misplaced his passport, and he was dumping all the clothes out of his duffel bag on the bench while screaming at the equipment manager. "I can’t find it anywhere!" he yelled, running his hands through his hair in a panic. "It was in my front pocket last night, I swear it was there!"
His mistake nearly delayed the entire departure schedule for the team bus, and the head coach looked like he was about to lose his temper completely.
Every single time I moved to a different corner of the room to take a photo of the trainers, Cassian somehow appeared again right beside me with a large smile on his face.
"Are you still mad at me about the phone call last night, Ana?" Cassian asked, leaning his shoulder on the wall near my camera equipment.
"I am trying to do my work, Cassian," I said, adjusting my lens and completely ignoring him. "Go pack your hockey gear and get ready for the trip."
"My gear is already packed and loaded," he said, laughing softly as he watched me work. "I am just making sure you don’t get lonely in the middle of all this team chaos."
The other older players quickly noticed his constant presence around me, and they started loudly teasing him.
"Look at Brooks go!" one of the senior forwards yelled, pointing at us and laughing out loud. "He has basically become the new assistant photographer for the team now."
"Hey, Photographer Boy, make sure she gets your good side for the official website!" another player shouted, and several others immediately joined in the loud laughter.
Cassian just laughed along with them and seemed completely unbothered by all the negative attention from the team, and he just flashed his dimples at them. "Don’t listen to them, Ana, they are just jealous because I am helping you," he joked, but I just rolled my eyes and kept moving my camera.
Eventually, it was finally time to board the team bus.
I climbed in the vehicle and searched for my assigned seat, fully expecting to sit near the staff section in the front rows with the other media workers. Instead, I stopped dead in my track and nearly groaned out loud when I saw the official seating chart taped to the driver’s partition wall.
The only available seat left on the entire bus was right beside Thiago Cruz.
I turned around to the staff member who was checking the travel assignments at the door. "Is there some kind of mistake with this list? I am supposed to sit with the media team up front."
The staff member shook his head quickly and pointed his pen. "There wasn’t another seat available on this trip, Anastasia, so you have to sit there for the drive."
Thiago didn’t look happy about the seating arrangement either. He was sitting by the big window with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, staring straight out at the window with a very dark look on his face.
I walked down and sat down in the empty space right beside him, placing my camera bag securely between my feet.
I spent several long minutes staring straight ahead in front of me, while he did exactly the same thing by the window. Neither of us spoke a single word to each other as the bus started and drove out of the arena parking lot. The silence between us was incredibly tensed up, and the hours seemed to stretch on forever as the bus moved toward our destination.
At some point during the long drive, the extreme exhaustion from the stressful week and the lack of sleep finally caught up with me, and my eyes became too tired to keep open any longer.
I tried my best to fight the sleep and stay on my side of the seat, but I accidentally fell fast asleep, and the very last thing I remembered before losing consciousness completely was my head slowly dropping right on Thiago’s shoulder.