17. Willow

Willow

"Rudy, set up over by the entrance so we can see fans' expressions when the players do their parade. Sheena, you're live streaming the meet and greet, show me those portable chargers." I nod when she lifts up two. "Great. I'll be moving around, but I've got my radio on if you need me." Clapping my hands, I move to the doorway of the conference room we took over at the hotel in Abbotsford to use as HQ for this stop on our media caravan. "Let's go make some Tridents fans happy!"

With the season officially opening in four days, this is the busiest time of year for me and the entire media department. We want every seat to be occupied at every game. We want rabid fans on social media and at the stadium, wearing the merch, cheering on the players, and we want the Tridents name and logo everywhere.

And all that comes down to this. Three days of us bussing a handful of players around to smaller cities and towns in British Columbia, hosting meet and greets, press conferences, even a couple of charity outreach events, all designed to generate buzz and excitement for the upcoming season. The boys only just returned from spring training the day before we started the tour, and it's clear they're ready to play.

I've managed to successfully steer clear of Ronan thus far. It hasn't been easy, since I'm basically running the entire event with Lydia opting to stay in Vancouver for the first few stops on the tour. But she's here today, which means my stress notches up a few levels. Although, where she is right now when the event is about to start, I have no idea.

Making my way from HQ to the main room that houses the local press that came out to interview our guys, I check in with a few reporters I've come to know over the years. "Hey, Kate," I say, approaching an online sports blogger who never misses a Tridents event. "Got everything you need?"

She turns to me, eyes wide with excitement. "Absolutely. Thanks, Willow, you always host a great event. You know I appreciate being included like this."

I give her a professional smile, but pride warms me. "Of course. Your write-ups are always fantastic. Honest, factual, yet somehow funny. How do you do it?"

Kate just shrugs. "Pure, unbridled talent, I guess."

We both laugh quietly. But she's not wrong. In the male dominated field of sports media reporting, Kate stands out. Someday, she's going to jump from blogger to reporter, I just know it.

"I promise to only ask this one gossipy question," Kate starts, leaning in closer. "Is Ronan Sinclair as dreamy in person as he seems in interviews?"

My stomach clenches. Yeah, he is, possibly even more than she's imagining. I manage to school my expression before I answer. "He's a great addition to the team." Giving her one more professional smile, I make my escape. Answering that kind of question about Ronan is not on my agenda for today, or ever. "Excuse me, Kate, I need to make sure the players are ready."

The press conference goes off without a hitch, and an hour later, we're moving on to the next event of the day, the fan meet and greet. This is more casual, with fifty lucky fans who entered an online contest from our newsletter lined up outside, waiting to come and meet their favourite Tridents. I circulate around the room, checking the water tables staffed by hotel workers, giving them a nod of appreciation. There are pens everywhere, Trident branded, of course, so the guys can sign whatever items the fans might have with them. A merch station is set up in the corner for anyone who wants to purchase things, and every fan has been given a Tridents game ball on the way in.

The door opens, and the players walk in: Kai Yamiko, Dan Montgomery, Luis Ortega, Rhett Darlington, and Ronan Sinclair. Five tall, handsome men, decked out in their Tridents jerseys, wide grins on their faces. After all this time, I'm immune to the physical attractiveness of the players. All, that is, except one.

God, he's beautiful. He shaved this morning, his strong jaw smooth and soft looking. His hair is neatly styled, and he's got an easy grin on his face. One thing is clear, Ronan is officially a Trident through and through. He talks and laughs with the other players as if he's been on the team for years, not a matter of weeks. Deep down, I'm happy for him.

"Hello, boys," I say, walking over once I've mastered some control over my initial reaction. Reminded myself of two simple things.

Look, but don't touch. And don't let anyone catch you looking.

"You've all got a couple of pens, but if you run out, there are more throughout the room. I'll be here the entire time and Sheena is live streaming, so best behaviour," I mockingly admonish, knowing these players don't need the reminder. They're all good guys. "The fans are pumped up for this, but please don't spend too long with any one person. Remember, there's only five of you and fifty of them."

"Treat it like speed dating, gentlemen. Two minutes and move on to the next," Kai jokes, earning a laugh from the others and a head shake from me.

"Whatever works, Yami." My gaze darts over to Ronan, just in time to catch him staring at me. He looks away quickly, but it's too late. Just that flash of attention has me burning up inside.

God, this is so much harder than I want it to be. Being close to him, but not being able to touch him or even trust myself to talk to him without other people around. The day we went house hunting was the last time I was alone with him, and a part of me physically aches to be near him. Which, of course, leads to increasing levels of frustration at myself for not having better willpower. I'm stronger than this, for fuck's sake. I'm Willow goddamn Lawson. I don't let men ruin me. Not even sinfully hot ones like Ronan Sinclair.

The doors open and fans come streaming in, thankfully stealing my attention away from my self-flagellation. For the next two hours, I stay locked-in on my job, making sure everything is running smoothly and everyone is happy. This is the last stop on our tour. After this, we get a couple of days off before it's family day at the field for all players and staff, then the season opener right after that.

After the last fan leaves, I start cleaning up while the guys chat among themselves, giving the fans time to clear out before they head to the bus. I'm busy collecting pens from a table in one corner of the room when I sense someone walk up behind me.

"You did great, Willow. This whole thing has been run incredibly well, and I know it's because of you."

Good. Fucking. God. Ronan's deep, rumbly voice complimenting me on my job? Knees. Weak.

"Thanks," I whisper, not daring to turn and face him. My heart is racing, my mouth suddenly dry just from having him near. "You guys did a great job as well. It's easy to run a good media tour when the players behave."

Ronan chuckles. "That explains Maverick's absence."

Against my better judgment, I laugh along with him. I turn around, only to find him right there, leaning against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He's so effortlessly sexy, it's impossible not to be drawn to him. "Seems you figured him out quickly," I say, then quickly finish. "He's a good guy, I can tell, but he makes stupid decisions, like in Phoenix."

"He was defending a woman who was being bothered by some drunk idiot. That's never a stupid idea."

My eyes widen at his emphatic response even as my gut clenches at my own painful memories. "No, it's not. But when you're a public figure, you need to handle things differently."

He shifts forward slightly, still leaning against the wall but somehow closer to me. "Trust me, Cherry, if someone was disrespecting you, there's not a chance in hell I'd hold back. I'd do whatever necessary to protect you."

I gulp. What am I meant to say to that? The sound of Lydia's voice from close by has me stepping backward so fast, I knock into a tall table, probably bruising my hip. "Ow."

Ronan moves forward, concern on his face, but I move out of his reach just as Lydia approaches. "There you are. What's taking so long? The hotel staff will do the clean up, Willow, we need to get moving if we want to get back to the city on schedule." The reprimand is clear in her voice, and with a start, I realize the room has emptied of everyone except me and Ronan.

"Sorry. I just need to grab my bag from the conference room." Without a backward glance, I hurry from the room, mentally cursing myself the whole way. Did Lydia see us? It's not like we touched, but we were so close to each other, it had to look suspicious.

Sure enough, she finds me in the conference room.

"What's going on with you and Ronan, Willow?" Lydia stands in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. "If you really think you're ready to take over for me, then you had better think twice before leading one of the players on. That's not appropriate behaviour for the person in charge of media relations."

I bite my tongue at her chastisement. I didn't lead anyone on, and I already am in charge of the department, in every way except title. But she's not done verbally taking me down yet.

"I don't know if you think you're above the rules or just naive. Mike might have a soft spot for you, but his players will always come first. The team always comes first. And if you mess around with one of them, you'll be the one who will suffer the consequences."

My fists clench as I watch her leave. She has no right to come in here and accuse me of being naive. She couldn't be more wrong about that. But she's right about the other thing.

The team comes first.

Which means any feelings I might have about Ronan Sinclair have to stay stuffed in a little box and pushed to the back of my mind, never to be thought of again.