by Aven Ellis
“Go ahead. Confess,” I say.
“After we met, for real, in Denver months ago, and you and I followed each other on social media, I always checked your accounts when I woke up in the morning, hoping to get another glimpse into your world. Not the world the tabloids gave me, but your reality. I’d try to think of something to say, but I felt like an idiot who let you slip through his fingers twice and had no way to go back.”
I stare at his open face, the one sharing a confession with me from his heart. Maxime regretted letting me go and not making a move. He is confident, an in-control leader who always seems to make the best decisions on the ice, but he is admitting his vulnerability when it comes to me. He’s not trying to be brave in this moment, or projecting the image of a badass professional athlete, but he’s showing me his real self, the one he keeps locked away to everyone else.
The fact that he’s letting me into his world, his reality, unfiltered and raw, means more to me than he can ever know.
Despite my determination to go slowly, I know I’m willingly handing him over a piece of my heart.
“My turn,” I say, running my fingers through Natasha’s silky fur and taking a breath, “Every time I received a notification that you had liked a post of mine, I always hoped you would leave a comment so I could comment back.”
Recognition flickers in his blue-green eyes. “We both wanted the same thing.”
“We did,” I admit softly.
“Then I’m glad we have it now.”
My heart is racing from his admission. “Me, too.”
His eyes linger on me, and I know if we were side by side, he’d be kissing me with those slow, sweet, searching kisses.
He clears his throat. “New confession: You’re beautiful in your glasses and pajamas.”
“I like being cozy,” I say.
And I’d do anything to be cozy with you right now.
“Blankets, coffee, fireplace? Is that kind of your thing?” Maxime asks.
Oh God, I’m picturing this with Maxime, and I am losing all my focus.
“I’ll go retro on you with my answer. It’s totally my jam.”
He groans. “My jam. I never liked that expression.”
“Sounds like another confession.”
“At least I know that one. Between Gavin and Cade, I’m always using Urban Dictionary to decipher their speak,” he says, grinning.
“Hey, speaking of Gavin,” I say, “how is he doing? He’s been on my mind all day.”
“Nobody knows but his family, me, and you. I hope you don’t mind, but I told Gavin I told you and that you might be someone he can talk to when he’s ready. I know you would understand better than anyone what he is going through. You know what it’s like to be led to believe one thing and find out another by a person you care about. I know I should have asked you first, but he’s gutted by this. I don’t know how he’s going to get his head right to play on this trip.”
I nod in understanding. “Veronica makes what Wanker Tom did look like nothing, which in comparison to what she did to Gavin is just that—nothing.”
“I gave Gavin your number and encouraged him to talk to you. I hope he takes you up on it.”
“You’re a good friend, Maxime,” I say. “I’d be happy to talk to him.”
“Gavin and I didn’t get close until training camp. I don’t know what was different, but we spent time talking about the direction of the team, like how he wanted me to be an alternate captain this year because he thought I was already serving in that role in the room. We’re different. Sometimes what draws you to someone is their differences. Like us.”
“Like us,” I repeat happily.
We talk and flirt for hours longer, and I don’t care what time it is because I’m savoring every second I have with Maxime. Finally, the late hour catches up with me. I yawn, which Maxime picks up on.
“You need to get to bed,” Maxime encourages.
I nod with regret. “I know, but I don’t want our night to end.”
“I don’t either. It’s crazy, but I miss you, Skye.”
“I miss you, too.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Maxime says. “We’ll set up another video date.”
“Okay. Have a great game tomorrow. I’ll be watching.”
Maxime’s face lights up at the news. “I’ll try to score a goal. I need to impress the girl I’m dating.”
Oh, Maxime, if you never scored a goal again, I wouldn’t care, I think happily. You already impress me by being the man you are. The man who worried about me the second he saw me in Belgium and who could instinctively read my thoughts.
We say goodnight, and as soon as he signs off, I hold my tablet over my heart for a moment.
I know I need to go slow with Maxime. I know this.
I also know I’m starting to fall for him.
My Maxime, I think, setting my tablet aside, is worth the risk of falling.
With that wonderful rush filling me, of a new relationship that could become something magical, I turn off my tablet and set it on my nightstand. I fall back into my pillows and close my eyes.
Ready to dream of all the wonderful things that are happening in my life.
Starting with Maxime Laurent.
Chapter Seventeen
Celebrate Life with Sprinkles—The Blog
Career Day!
I remember my first career day at elementary school vividly. We had Jasmine Jones, a TV hostess from Love Home Life Network, talk to us. I was in the fourth grade, and I remember sitting crisscrossed on the floor in the front row. When Jasmine walked in, I remember a sense of awe filling me. She was beautiful, with long raven-black hair and brown eyes. She was impressive in her suit and her high-heeled pumps. When she spoke, I was as enraptured with her as some kids are with reading Harry Potter books. She was full of energy and life and positivity. She talked about how much she loved hosting her home and family show and making people happy through her work, and I knew in that moment that’s what I was going to do. I was going to bring some light and joy into the lives of the audience through TV. I would show them how to make wreaths or bake something yummy, just like Jasmine did with her guests. I never lost sight of that goal. I worked on the student TV network in high school. Then I went to UCLA to study broadcasting. I did everything and anything to learn the business. I interned every year I was in college.
Today, my hard work has paid off. I’m starting my very first day on the job at Boulder Live, as a lifestyle correspondent. I’m excited to take this new road in my life! I can’t wait to explore Boulder and bring interesting stories and features on-air. If you don’t live in Boulder, you can still catch me, as all of our shows are available on the web (see link below). I’m thrilled to be a part of the Boulder Live family and can’t wait to be live today at one o’clock! XO Skye
I adjust the wireless mic pack on my back as I walk across the set. This is really happening. My dream is starting right here, right now. I move across the studio floor, mindful of the cables dotting my path. Adrenaline is surging through me, and I can’t wait to sit on that red sofa and talk to the hosts and TV audience.
I’ve had my hair made “TV News Show” ready, which is translation for puffier than I like. I’ve attended the morning staff meeting to discuss how the show is going to roll today and what segments and features will be in the blocks that make up the show. I’m in the second block, and the hosts of the show will interview me and roll some footage from my time on Is It Love? We’ll banter, and then I’ll join them in the last segment, where we will all learn how to force blooms indoors from a garden expert to bring some spring into dreary February snow days.
Of course, the day started off brilliantly, when I received a delivery at the studio of another bouquet of poppies from Maxime, wishing me luck today from the road. Last night, Maxime scored a goal in Vancouver, but Gavin was the one on fire—getting a hat trick on the road. Apparently, he’s fueling all his emotions about Veronica into his game, which
I give him credit for. They’re playing in Edmonton tonight, and I have plans to get some Chinese food and watch Maxime play. Hopefully, by the time we talk again, we’ll be celebrating another Mountain Lions win along with my first day on-air on Boulder Live.
Life is good, I think as I take my seat. And it’s about to get even better.
I turn my attention to my co-hosts Aly Meyers and Rick Peterson, who are sitting in two plush, oversized chairs, reading their tablets, while I take my seat on the guest sofa. Rick is in his mid-forties, with hair starting to gray at the temples, but Aly is my age, and this is her first year on the show, according to her bio on the station website. I met them both for the first time this morning. I felt that Rick was genuine, but Aly was reserved, telling me she might need to see what kind of person I am before embracing me and my role here.
“Are you nervous?” Rick asks, smiling at me.
I shake my head. “No. I’m excited,” I say. “I can’t wait to go live.”
“You dated on live TV; I’m sure a little show like Boulder Live is nothing, right, Skye?” Aly asks, her eyes locking on mine as she takes a sip of coffee from her bright yellow Boulder Live mug.
Is that a dig? Throughout this morning’s staff meeting, I’ve caught her staring at me with a displeased look on her face. I thought maybe I was being paranoid, but now I’m wondering if I was right.
I keep a smile fixed on my face. “Actually, I’ve been used to cameras since my broadcasting days in high school,” I say easily. “I find that same energy every time I’m on TV doing what I love.”
“Of course,” she says, smiling back and putting her tablet aside and scooping some papers off the coffee table in front of us.
One assistant hands me a mug filled with water, and I take a sip and park it on the table. The stage manager begins her countdown, and we all look at the camera she’s directing us to. She flashes up numbers with her hands, and at zero, Rick begins reading off the teleprompter.
“We’re back, and we’re here to welcome the newest member of the Boulder Live family to our show,” Rick says.
Aly picks up the next part. “We’re thrilled to announce America’s Reality Show Sweetheart, Skye Reeve, is joining us as our new lifestyle correspondent. Welcome to Boulder Live, Skye!”
“Thank you so much,” I say, placing my hands over my crossed knees. “I’m happy to be here.”
Rick goes into a bit about my back story, and I answer questions about wanting to be a lifestyle correspondent and what drives me. Then we get to the part I’ve braced for.
My Is It Love? past.
“You are famous for being the, well, the one Tom rejected last season on Is It Love?”Aly says, nodding empathetically at me.
I manage a small laugh. “I lost Tom, yes, but looking back, I don’t think we were right for each other. Time gives you an amazing ability to see things clearly and an opportunity to learn from your previous decisions.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Rick says, doing the sage newscaster thing. “Getting perspective is an amazing gift, isn’t it?”
I love Rick.
“It really is,” I say, nodding. “So no matter how hard some moments were, I can’t say I regret it.”
“Especially considering being a reality TV personality opens doors,” Aly says.
I notice she’s trying to furrow her brow, but she has so much Botox in her forehead she can’t make a crease.
“It has certainly given me exposure,” I answer honestly. “But I also know I’ve studied and worked very hard for a career in TV.”
“Speaking of Is It Love?, what made you decide to go on the show?” Rick asks. “Were you looking for love?”
My stomach grows into a knot. I want to tell the truth, but I know I can’t say “to get exposure to land a job like this one.” I mean, I could, but that’s a truth better left unsaid if I want to build credibility with this new TV audience.
“I had just graduated from UCLA, and it seemed like a fun opportunity to do something different. I knew I’d meet people and get to travel. I wasn’t expecting to find love. That was a surprise,” I say.
“Mmm-hmm,” Aly says, nodding. “You know what else fascinated me on the show? Besides your love story, which I was so sad to find out was only one-sided.”
“I think Tom loved everyone,” Rick interjects in that jovial morning show host way.
“Oh, no, Tom loved Miley, and we’ll get to that in a moment,” Aly says, wrestling her question back from him. “But there’s one thing I always found interesting, especially considering your background and desire to be in broadcasting. When the show was filmed in the spring, you said you wanted to open a cupcake bakery. That’s a rather, um, unusual career switch, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes, I—”
“I’d almost say implausible,” Aly interrupts. “I can’t imagine the great newswomen we know saying right after graduation, after doing all these internships for a broadcasting career, that they suddenly not only want to be on a reality dating show but now want to bake cupcakes for a career. I’m curious about your thought process here.”
The single knot in my stomach now feels like a scout has tied it into twenty secure, hard knots. She has every right to ask this question, but I need to be very careful how I answer. I would love to scream the truth, to own it, to admit it was a huge mistake, but I can’t. Not if I want any credibility as a reporter.
I’ve never hated myself more for not fighting against Charlotte and the cupcake lie than I do now.
“Like I said, I was trying to discover who I was, and I did love cupcakes,” I say, sounding like a complete flake. “The show focused on that in the edit, but in the end, I knew my heart was in broadcasting.”
“Aly, move off this,” Stephen Wembrick, the producer, quickly interjects into our earpieces.
“Well, we’re glad you chose TV over frosting, aren’t we, Aly?” Rick says gamely, laughing.
“Oh, you bet, Rick,” Aly says, her voice dripping with fake happiness. She gives a pinched smile and pauses to sip her coffee.
Aly has just put on boxing gloves in my head. She hates me and wants to score the knockout punch.
Ha! If this past year has taught me anything at all, I’ve learned that I can take the punches.
Not only take them, but remain standing at the end.
“Let’s talk more about the romance on the show,” Rick says.
I remind myself we can’t talk about Is It Love? for the whole segment, and eventually, this torture has to end.
“Okay,” I say, smiling brightly.
“I have to be honest,” Aly says, leaning forward and turning her mouth into a serious, hard line. “Was there really love on Is It Love? It all seems, um, how should I say it? Rather unrealistic to find real love on TV.”
I’m beginning to hate how she does dramatic enunciation every five words whenever she’s addressing me.
“Oh, it can absolutely happen,” I say. “What I felt for Tom was real.”
“Love. Complicated enough on its own, probably more complicated on TV,” Rick says.
“So, you were really in love with Tom?” Aly asks, wearing her concentrated hostess face.
Bleurgh. She is going to ask me the same question on repeat.
“Or did you second guess that like you did your broadcasting career?” she asks as a pointed follow-up question.
I blink in surprise. Boom! She just landed one on my jaw. I keep my face arranged in a smile, but now my guard is up. She will not hit me again in surprise with a question like that.
“No. I didn’t second guess my feelings. It absolutely was love for me. The cameras disappeared, and it became my love story with Tom. Even though it didn’t end in the way I had hoped, my feelings were all real at that time.”
A TV screen comes up from behind us, positioned between Aly and me.
“Why don’t we let the footage tell the story,” Rick asks. “Skye, let’s take a look back at your season, if you’re ready.”
> “Oh, yes, let’s relive your love story with all those magical moments,” Aly says eagerly.
Right. I have a feeling her favorite magical moment will be the one where Tom sends me packing.
“Here we go. Our own Skye Reeve on Is It Love?” Rick says, turning toward the TV screen.
The footage rolls, showing me meeting Tom and going on dates with him. It’s as if I’m watching someone else’s life now, as what I’m starting with Maxime is so beyond this whirlwind I got swept up in on TV.
And it’s so much better.
When it ends, Rick smiles at me.
“Is it hard to watch?” he asks.
“No, not anymore, I’ve moved on,” I say, thinking of Maxime. “That seems like a different life.”
Which it was.
“I can imagine! Then, you were all about cupcakes and Tom, and now, you’re here in Boulder with us,” Aly says excitedly.
I want to shove a cupcake in her face right now.
“Yes, and I’m excited to be here as part of the Boulder Live family,” I say, using this opportunity to shut the door on my Is It Love? past and move onto my life now.
“Well, I’d be excited, too, if my life in Colorado involved a super sexy hockey player!” Aly says brightly.
My heart leaps out of my chest. I feel the color drain from my face. She must have seen the pictures on Snapchat and Instagram.
“A hockey player?” Rick asks, rolling with the change in topic, one we didn’t go over in the production meeting this morning.
“Yes, you’ve moved on with a certain European hockey player, isn’t that right?” Aly asks, her eyes sparkling with delight. “I guess celebrities attract celebrities, right? I figured you wouldn’t mind us asking about Maxime Laurent, the alternate captain for the Mountain Lions, you know, since you had intimate overnight dates on camera, right?”
“Aly, quit the crap; this isn’t a gossip show!” Stephen roars into our earpieces.
“Okay, my producer is telling us to move on to your role here on Boulder Live, but before we do, you two have looked awfully lovey-dovey on social media. Can we say, this time, it’s love? For both parties instead of just one?”
