Six

ROSALIE

"Okay," I scream in anger, "how many times do you need to hit the buzzer."

I fling open the front door, holding my magazine, frustrated.

"Until you answer it," Emmett stands before me, smiling wickedly, "before you slam that in my face just know I come with gifts."

Surely enough he is holding a small brown paper bag in his hand.

I'm tempted to slam the door in his face. But I'm also curious.

"I ate your chocolate," he holds the bag between us, "so I went and got you more. As a peace offering. I also have no idea what you told your dad, but he kicked my ass today."

"Just that I saw you drinking at a party last night. I know he hates when you do that during the week during a season," I grin wickedly at him.

"Evil," he smirks, "I'll be feeling it until next week."

For a second I feel bad. Then I remember he ghosted me and so I stop.

"Well I'm sure Madeline can massage it better," I wave a hand at him, dismissively.

"'Pretty sure her name was Madison," he raises an eyebrow.

"Only pretty sure?" I scoff.

What a douche.

"Yeah I actually didn't end up going. I just used that as an excuse," he shrugs, "you see I had no clue you would be here. I felt like I had overstayed a welcome."

"Was I that insufferable when you were eating my chocolate?" I step forward, taking the bag from him.

"No that's not it. I just remember how nice of a time we had and how angry I am it didn't work," he shrugs.

"I thought you're all macho about no girlfriends? Besides, you ignored me," I say.

"I just don't want the complications. Especially when it comes to a girl like you," he scratches the back of his neck, nervously.

I'd known Emmett since freshman year. My father had been excited about his arrival on the team. He and Edward complimented one another. I'd never ever seen him nervous.

"Why thanks," I say blank.

"No. That's not what I meant," he holds his hand up, "I… has your dad seriously never said anything?"

"About what, Emmett?" I cross my arms.

"I really don't want to bad mouth him," he sighs, "he's my coach."

"Tell me," I step closer to him, looking up at him, trying to be intimidating.

"Well.. he.. maybe I should come in?" He sighs.

Rolling my eyes I step back into the house letting him inside. I follow him to the kitchen, watching him take a seat at the breakfast bar. He folds his arms before him, leaning forward onto the kitchen top.

"Well?" I ask.

"He found out we had been on a date. One of the guys was asking me about it and he overheard," he begins, "he pulled me aside after kicking my ass in practice. He told me to keep away from his daughter. I told him I thought you were sweet and I was planning to ask you out again. He thought the easiest way was just blocking you out and hoping you'd get the message. He had scouts coming that weekend and he warned me he would tell them to not look my way if I didn't."

"Wait what?" I shake my head.

"I'm sorry," he says, "it was easier for you to hate me than him."

"He was right about that," I sigh, "I wish he wouldn't do this."

"He's done it before?" Emmett raises an eyebrow.

"My mother died when I was a kid. Since he's just overdrive protective. He meddles without even realising it," I place my bag of chocolate on the counter and begin to unpack it.

"I'm sorry to hear that. At least he loves you to look out for you," Emmett smiles, "my mother is the same. Just less getting involved. My father is in the military. We rarely see him."

"That must be tough," I say.

"It can be and I miss him at games where I know he'd love to be," he shrugs, "but he's doing great work. He's in the Air Force."

"That's so cool," I dig out another bar of chocolate, "you know you only ate like half of one. There's like five bars here."

"I wanted to make more than just half a bar up to you," he shrugs, "I should have told you what your father said. I owed you at least an explanation even if it meant getting kicked off the team."

"Don't be silly," I rip open one of the wrappers, "I would have done the same. I'll be having words with him but."

"I don't want to cause trouble," he says.

"You won't," I shake my head snapping off a few squares before sliding the packet across the table to him, "have some."

"It's yours," he shakes his head, "I got it for you."

"Well I'm sharing it," I shrug, "thanks for coming here. I was prepared to bite your head off when I saw you standing at the doorstep."

"Oh I know," he laughs snapping a row of chocolate off for himself, "I pep talked myself in the car for ten minutes before getting out. I just hate letting others down."

"What? You're telling me the school's most eligible jock has feelings? The guy that's got five women hanging off his arm at parties," I joke.

"Please don't tell anybody," he slides the chocolate back to me.

"Your secret is safe with me," I laugh.

We chat for a little while longer before he needs to go to a class. We awkwardly wave, unsure if we hug it out or not. So we settled for the wave.

Once he is in his car I arrange dinner with my father.

"Daddy," I call out into the house, "I'm here."

"Rosie," he calls from the kitchen.

He lived just 20 minutes from campus in the house he raised me in. My different heights are still marked on the wall by my bedroom, my drawings still hanging from a magnet on the fridge. When I come here it feels like Dad has managed to freeze time.

He is pulling a tray from the oven, which is smoking. Dad had always been clumsy despite being built like Dwayne Johnson. I have no clue how he made a career from ice.

"Dad," I gasp, grabbing a tea towel racing to fan away the smoke.

"It's fine. I just forgot," he says, "it was meant to be pie."

"Oh dad," I smile hugging him once he puts it down, "it's fine. Really! What if we go out? Or I can order in."

"Order me Chinese food," he smiles at me, "while you do you can tell me how you have been. How's journalism? I got in touch with that tv contact I was telling you about. Jason? He works for PuckSport. They ran so many editorials on me back in my day."

"Okay mister celebrity," I smile, "I'd love to meet him. Maybe I could intern?"

"I'll invite him to dinner one weekend. Only you cook next time," he sits at the kitchen table.

Dad was a legend back in the day. Almost as good as Edward is now. He led his team to the last four winters championship - a tournament that all the leading college hockey teams in the country compete after the season is up. For the last few years we hadn't qualified. But with Edward as captain this year, dad thinks we have a good shot. Edward had settled into the leadership role perfectly.

After his college career dad moved onto pros playing for New York, Toronto and then taking up the coaching position after Mum died. We followed him most of the time. I looked forward to school holidays when we could spend weeks watching him on the ice. He was behind my love for sport.

"I actually wanted to ask you something?" I say sitting across from him.

"What's that, Princess?" He asks.

"Well. I have a friend and he told me something fairly interesting," I say casually, "you know him actually. He's on the team?"

"Oh is it Whitlock? That kid is a dream! Respectful too. I want to replace them all with southern kids," he smiles at me, "marry a man like that, darling. He's a charmer, doesn't race after the ladies like the others, doesn't get blind drunk every night of the week. Respects my no alcohol the night before practice and games and zero tolerance for drugs. He's a dream."

"I met him last night. He's great. But it's not him," I say, "Emmett McCarthy. You told him to not date me."

"He told you?" He glares at me.

Dad is where I get my resting and purposeful bitch faces. He's the king of 'it looks could kill'.

"He mentioned it was why he suddenly ghosted me," I say, "why would you do that, Dad?"

"He isn't good for you. The kid is an excellent player but he isn't right for you. He's not the guy you want around your daughter," he shakes his head.

"If that's the case I would have found that out eventually myself," I say, "you have to let me make mistakes."

"I do. But Emmett is just… he's one of those guys who just won't ever settle. You deserve someone who will see you as the only priority. He's had life handed to him, his family is wealthy. He won't be there when it counts," he says.

"Dad. It was just one date," I smile at him, touched by his love for me, "but I understand your concern. Edward is my roommate's sister. I might see a little more of Emmett. You know they're joined at the hip."

"See if he was more like Edward I'd walk you down the aisle to him right this second. Edward has a great head. He has known suffering and he is there when it matters. He's never let anyone down," he says, "Emmett has never let his team down but a girlfriend… it wouldn't top his list."

"No weddings at this stage, Dad. But I know that he isn't into commitment," I nod, "he isn't the boyfriend type. I'll just respect him for his skills in sport and leave it at that."

"Good," my dad smiles at me, standing up, "now how long till we eat? Do I have time to convince you to move back home?"

It's as if we were always at a point of difference. Boys, living situations. But he was there for me when it counted. The priority.

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