When photography student, Willow Kennedy, gets offered an internship with her college's renowned ice hockey team, The Michigan Wolverines, she anticipates three things:
1) Her twin brother being an unbearable and over-protective nightmare.
2) Her...
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"I think I might be having a stroke. Seriously, call 911." I clasp my hands over my heart and carry on hyperventilating like an anxious idiot.
"You are not having a stroke." Tate deadpans and rounds the corner, the veins in his forearm bulging slightly as he grips the wheel tighter. "You're being insane and dramatic and irrational and ridiculous."
"I'm being completely sane and rational and this is a huge deal so let me freak out in peace, asshole!"
Tate laughs softly at me and rests his large hand on my knee, continuing to cruise us further down the street one-handed. "You have nothing to worry about, babe. They're going to worship the ground you walk on. I promise."
"Really?" I sigh and place my hand over his, anxiously fiddling with his fingers as we slow down at the end of the dead-end street.
"Really, really. Everyone who meets you adores you, Willow. My parents will be no exception."
Tate carefully pulls his truck onto a stone driveway. A perfectly manicured flower bed frames the front lawn that leads to a porch. An adorable white-washed swing seat and a log basket sit on the porch alongside a heap of potted plants and a Christmas wreath that hangs proudly on the old wooden door.
"Your house is so cute." I whisper as Tate kills the engine and adjusts the hat on his head.
"Just wait until you get inside. My Mom is obsessed with any cute furniture store and Blair is an aspiring interior designer. It's like a Pottery Barn catalogue threw up in there and then had babies with any and every potted plant or flower."
"Pottery barn?" I mutter as Tate hops out of the truck, rounds the car to my side and opens my door for me. "Fancy. Layne, Salma and I just decorated the apartment with Ikea..."
"Well, my Mom is in her fifties. That means she's qualified to spend hundreds at Pottery Barn every year." He laughs and wraps his arm tightly around my shoulder, leading us to the icy porch steps.
"So, this is your childhood home, huh? You've never moved?" I ask and smile at the small birdbath tucked away in the flower bed with hardly any flowers. But I can just imagine how beautiful it looks in the spring when the flowering starts.
"Never. And if you behave yourself today I might just let you snoop around my old bedroom. Hasn't changed since I was sixteen."
I gasp and can practically feel my eyes sparkle with glee. "I'll be on my best behaviour! I pinky swear!"
"Mm-hm." Tate hums and pull us to a stop just in front of the wooden door. "Just a warning. My Mom is... a lot. She's a whole crap tonne of excitement and energy and she will smother you in love instantly and-"
"Tate, she sounds incredible and I can't wait to meet her. I can already tell we'll be the best of friends." I assure and place a soft kiss on his cheek, the scarf wrapped around his neck tickling my skin.
