* CURRENTLY EDITING.*
Luke Madden is a NHL superstar. But when an injury sidelines him, he's required to undergo physical therapy. With a stable family and girlfriend, Luke has all the resources he needs. Or so he thinks. As it turns out, there are...
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Rosalina
After work, exhaustion sets in the moment I step into Emyln and Hainsey's house. They live an hour outside of Toronto in Georgina, right on the shore of Lake Simcoe. Their lake house-style home has a rustic pallet, with darker shades of green and brown surrounded by white trim. Pine trees outline their driveway and provide enough canopy that their house stays in the shade for a few hours. It's gorgeous, and I'm insanely jealous of it. Mainly because parking isn't an issue, but also because they're on a freaking lake.
Pulling into my usual parking spot, I shift into park and cut the engine. Through my open windows, I can hear water lapping against the shore and birds chirping. We're at the end of March, and things are just turning green. Pops of colour and the desire for summer are chasing away my seasonal affective disorder. I enjoy snow and cold weather, but only to a certain degree.
Pivoting in my seat, I reach over and grab my large white binder. With Emyln and Hainsey's wedding on the horizon, it's my job as the maid of honour to help complete the details. Planning, compared to my job, is like a hobby. Emyln and I have been having lots of fun with choosing cake flavours, decorations, and colour schemes while drinking bottles of red wine.
After years of watching the romance blossom between Hainsey and Emyln, I'm excited to see them finally tie the knot. They've been through enough as it is. They deserve to be happy.
With my bag and the binder, I head across the gravel driveway to the stairs. They're cobblestone, with tulips outlining them. At the top of the stairs, I lift my fist to knock.
Hainsey opens the door before I do. His brownish-blonde hair is long, the tips just touching his shoulders. There's also a significant amount of facial hair present. He and Emyln returned from a hiking expedition in Ireland. His brown eyes are wide with fascination.
"Tell me you're working with Luke Madden," he says. "And don't fucking lie to me, Rosalina Walker."
I raise my eyebrows. "Still can't access a razor there, Hainsey?"
He rubs his beard. "Your sister thinks it's sexy. Especially when—"
I push past Hainsey and kick my shoes off. "Dear Lord, please do not finish that sentence. You know I ship the hell out of you two, but that is too much information."
To avoid answering his question, I head down the hallway towards their kitchen. Basil and oregano waft down the hallway, making my stomach grumble. With limited staff, today was a busy day. All I ate was a banana and some almonds.
Hainsey closes the door behind us. "Pros of a beard aside, you avoided my question. You can't lie to me, Rosa. The best player in the NHL is getting treatment at your rehab centre. It's all over social media and sports networks. You telling me wouldn't be breaking any rules."
I glance over my shoulder, shooting him a sly grin. "If you're so sure, then why ask questions?"
A grin splits his face, and he claps his hands. "I knew it! Holy fuck. Can you get me his autograph?"
