15. Emma

When I wake up, it's dark outside already, which means I've crashed for hours in the same position on the couch. Anna must've woken up and gone to bed already, so I haul my stiff, aching carcass off the couch with a low groan and stumble through the unfamiliar cottage to the main bedroom. Crawling in, still fully clothed and not giving a shit, I close my eyes again and drift back to sleep almost immediately.

The next time I wake up, it's morning, and a fucking rooster is cockadoodling its head off on a farm somewhere nearby.

"Fuck off, you cunt," I grumble, rolling over and pulling the pillow over my head.

But it's no use. I'm awake now and can smell coffee and toast, which tells me Anna is already up and about.

Strolling into the kitchen, I see her sitting at the big farmhouse table with her breakfast and phone. She glances up at me and then snorts. "You didn't bother with pjs then?"

"I woke up late and could not be arsed digging around for them."

"Fair point," Anna says. "It's raining."

"No shit," I mumble, heading straight for the kettle to make some tea.

Rain taps persistently against the windows, casting a dreary but somehow cosy vibe over the cottage. I plop down at the table with my steaming mug of tea.

"I think I'm going to get out for a walk today after being cooped up in the car all day yesterday. You coming?" Anna says.

"Sure. Do you know where?"

She shrugs. "I'm sure if we head out the door, we'll find a place."

"True." I grab my phone from the table and shoot off a quick text to my parents, letting them know we're here.

Dad messages back straight away.

Great. Thought we'd leave you last night after the long drive. See you soon to talk start dates.

Start dates.

It all comes rushing back to me that I'm here now to do this monumental thing, and I still don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing. Maybe I should take a pass on the walking and do some studying instead. Maybe I should message Keir and ask him to teach me stuff. All the stuff. Maybe even take me on the ice and show me… this leads to his arms being wrapped around me as he shows me how to hit a puck…

"Ahem," I mutter, clearing my throat as I sit up straighter. "Yes, walking sounds good."

I need to clear my head of these sexy thoughts. This is a professional setup, not some new way to find guys and date them.

After some toast, we disperse to our rooms to get ready.

Pulling out some leggings and a hoodie, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is sticking up in five different directions, and my face looks like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards. It's not a fantastic way to impress anyone. Stripping off and turning on the shower in the small en-suite, I step in, and the hot water invigorates me, making me feel like a new woman. After washing my hair and scrubbing up, I step out and dry off after a few minutes, getting dressed before I pull a brush through my tangled hair and then set the hair dryer on it.

After I'm somewhat presentable—or at least won't scare any small children—I grab my waterproof jacket and a pair of sturdy boots. Scotland's weather might be as unpredictable as a puck ricocheting off the boards, but I'm not about to let a little rain keep me shackled indoors.

Anna has that look in her eye, the one that says she's up for an adventure or five. We don't have a plan, but that's part of the excitement. I shove my phone and a small purse into my pocket, and we head out into the drizzle.

The rhythmic patter of rain on my hood is soothing, and the Scottish countryside is even more breathtaking than I remembered. We make our way down a narrow path that snakes along the river's edge, where the water is a churning ballet of eddies and whirls.

"Bet you can't skip a stone more than three times," Anna challenges with a cheeky grin.

"You're on! I grew up doing this. You're going down, Anna Ford."

She laughs, and while her attempts are valiant, she is no match for the skipping queen.

"That's seven!" I cry out and clap my hands, feeling like a child again.

"Show off," Anna grumbles good-naturedly.

We set off again, and our meanderings take us to the edge of the village, to the local café that has its specials stuck to the inside of the windows, written by hand on luminous coloured, star-shaped cardboard. "Fancy a coffee?" I ask Anna, who nods eagerly in agreement.

We step inside, shedding layers and shaking off the cold. The café smells like heaven if heaven were made of freshly baked scones and coffee. It's already busy, so we find a table squashed in a corner and look at the small, laminated menu.

Anna, being the decisive sort, is quick to order us both large cappuccinos and a plate of scones with clotted cream and jam before I even have a chance to protest.

"Figure we need the sugar rush," she says.

"I completely agree. I should probably call the estate agents and start looking for somewhere more long-term to rent," I muse as I stare out of the window, watching people bustle about their morning routines under umbrellas and raincoats.

"About that…" Anna starts but then chews her lip.

"What?"

"Are we going to continue being roomies?"

"Do you want to be?"

"If you'll have me?" she replies, looking down. "I don't know anyone here, and?—"

"Done," I say, cutting her off with a grin. "This is going to be fun!"

"Oh, yay!" she says, her relief evident. "I found a nice place not far from here if you want to take a look?"

"Sure," I say as Anna pulls out her phone, tapping away to show me pictures of the place. It looks decent enough—two bedrooms, a little garden out the back, and a living room large enough for both of us to lounge about in without stepping on each other's toes.

"Cute."

"Right?"

Our coffees arrive, and I say, "Let's check the place out after this. Might as well strike while the iron's hot."

Once we've polished off our food and downed our coffees, we head outside again.

The estate agent is just down the cobblestone street, nestled between a sweet shop and a butcher with sausages hanging in the window. We duck inside, greeted by a woman around the same age as us, her name tag reading ‘Fiona'. She's got a smile that could light up the dreariest Scottish day, and I immediately warm up to her.

"Welcome! How can I help ye on this fine drizzly morn?" Fiona beams.

"We're interested in the flat on Cherry Lane," Anna jumps in before I can get a word out.

"Ah, the wee gem with the garden? A lovely spot!" Fiona clasps her hands together as she speaks. "Let me pull up the details."

While Fiona taps away at her keyboard, I glance around the small office, my eyes landing on a framed photo of the local ice hockey team—the very one my dad left me, and that now counts as my biggest challenge. My gaze zeros in on Lachlan's face among the team members.

Fiona catches my stare and smiles.

"You're a fan of the Warriors?"

"My brother plays for them," she says with a soft chuckle.

"Oh, really?" Anna interrupts. "Who might that be, then?"

"Lachlan McLeod. The Captain."

"Hmm, well fancy that," Anna says, grinning at me before turning back to Fiona. "Emma here is their new owner."

Fiona's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "Ah, you're the high-flying Londoner then," she says with a laugh. "Causing quite the stir."

"Well, I was born and grew up here," I mutter, feeling my cheeks go hot.

She smiles, turns back to her computer screen, and prints off some papers. "Here we are," she says, handing over a leaflet with pictures of the cottage. "How soon do you want to view it?"

"As soon as possible," I say.

"I can do now if that's convenient? Harriet will be here any minute, and it's a slow day."

"Perfect," I say and look down at the cottage information, deciding that this will be a great place to set up base. It's only ten minutes from the Warriors arena by car, so it's an easy commute while still having all the glory of the Scottish Highlands on your doorstep.

Sharing a knowing look with Anna as Harriet arrives and she and Fiona have a quick discussion, and moments later we follow Fiona out of the agents as she tells us Cherry Lane is a two-minute walk away.