I stare at the computer screen, eye the project guidelines with disgust, and tap angrily at the odd-looking graphic with my mouse.

"This stupid thing!" I bark, thrumming my fingers over the keys, leaving a senseless string of consonants and vowels in the center of my website design. With a grumble, I set my laptop on the couch beside me and wander into the kitchen.

There, I find Bas with his nose in a container full of Christmas cookies. He glances up, looking like a chipmunk with his face half-stuffed with sweets where he offers me the box. "Wan' one? Cookies ma' every'n be'er."

That makes me laugh and I pluck up a peanut butter cookie. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

He obediently chews and swallows. "Want some milk?"

"Sure."

"I'll get it." He opens a cabinet and plucks a glass off the top shelf. The sight of him in our little kitchen makes my heart soar. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to how dinky he makes everything seem. "Can't have cookies without milk."

"Learn that from your mother?" I tease.

I swear, one week with his family and I gained five pounds. The sheer amount of food Odette Killfeather managed to force down my throat still amazes even me. I'd felt like a blowfish when we boarded our plane home.

Bas sets the glass of milk down and tugs on my wrist, thumb brushing old scars. I glide into his touch, press my face into his chest, and sigh, feeling warm and protected. He rests his chin on the top of my head, heartbeat thrumming against my cheek.

"It was great having you meet them," he says, hands traversing my back and hips tenderly.

I nod against him, content to remain in his arms and say nothing. With Bas, everything's brighter, easier. I've never felt more comfortable with someone like I have with Bas. Not even Kaila. With him, I don't have to hide or pretend that everything's fine.

We stay like that for several more moments until somewhere in the apartment, a door opens, and voices echo down the hall. I slip from Bas's hold as Kaila and Spencer appear in the doorway.

Kaila's wearing Spencer's shirt, the material just barely managing to reach her mid-thigh. He's at her side, shirtless but at least with sweats. They both look sex-tousled and startled at the sight of us.

Beside me, Bas chuckles under his breath and eyes his friend with dark amusement. "Up before noon, I'm impressed."

Spencer flips him off.

"You're back!" Kaila cries, flinging herself at me. Her hug almost knocks me off my feet.

"Well duh," I deadpan, returning her embrace for a long minute. "Happy New Year!"

She laughs and pulls back, bouncing on her tiptoes. "Happy New Year Reeciecup!" Then, in a more subdued voice, "When did you guys get in? I didn't hear anything last night." Kaila glances over her shoulder with a mischievous smirk on her lips.

Spencer meets her look, affection all over his face as he claps Bas on the shoulder. "If anything, Blue, they heard you."

Kaila flushes with delight, making me equal parts happy for them and uncomfortable with the mention of their sex life. Spencer, unconcerned, turns to his friend, "Back from the big leagues, you remember us little people?"

Bas feigns confusion. "Who are you, again? I swear we went to college together."

Spencer clutches his chest. "Ouch."

The two banter back and forth so Kaila grips my hand and drags me from the room. "I want to know everything about your trip!" She gushes, leading me to her bedroom and plopping down on the disheveled sheets. I opt for the desk chair, spinning it around to face her excited expression.

"I had a good time," I concede, wondering just how many details she's going to make me spill before being satisfied. I have no problem hashing out details about the Killfeathers. All the toe-curling private time with Bastien, though, that's my secret.

Kaila groans and shoves her face into a pillow, then promptly tosses it at me. I throw up a hand to block it just in time.

"Having a decent conversation with you is like pulling teeth." She remarks flatly. "What is his family like? What kinds of things did you do?" Kaila pauses, eyes catching around my neck. "Ah!" She squeals, hands clapping together with glee. "He got you the necklace!"

I touch my throat, feel the cool pendant between my fingers and smile. "It's beautiful."

Kaila matches my expression smugly. "Well of course it is, I helped him pick it out." She states as if Bas had very little to do with the decision at all, which I highly doubt.

"You give yourself way too much credit." I say, laughing at her dubious look.

"I maintain the statement that this relationship happened because of me, thus," Kaila waves her hand through the air. "Anything that happens because of it happens because of me."

"If you say so," I choose not to argue the issue and instead regale her with tales of my trip, from the game of broomball, to my blooming friendship with Claude, Christmas morning, and finally, New Year's. She listens with rapt interest, only slightly thrown off by the mention of my new friend in Bastien's sister.

"Is Claude the one with kids or the baker?" Kaila presses, recalling the online stalking she'd done on all the Cyclones players.

"Neither, she's a therapist." I gloss over her specialty, knowing that if I tell Kaila, we'll never talk about anything else ever again because she'll be too interested in what that entails. She might even badger me for Claude's number.

When I bring up the job that Mia and Leo asked me to take on for their bakery, Kaila nearly falls off the bed. "What?" She barks, eyes wide. "That's amazing! You're only, what, a freshman, and already finding jobs?" Kaila shakes her head, lips pinched in mock jealousy.

I can't stop the blush that colors my cheeks. "It was kind of shocking. I don't consider myself that good but," I shrug, as if to say that if they're satisfied with my work then who am I to judge. Kaila nods in agreement, a sudden glow swirling in her eyes.

"That reminds me," she begins, becoming suddenly uncertain. "My term ends a month after we come back from break in a few days, and I'm graduating with my associate's. I interviewed at a salon and spa last week for my internship. They're supposed to call me anytime to let me know if I got it."

I smack my hands over my mouth, eyes bugging out of my head. "Really? Kaila, that's great!" I praise her, she brightens and nods eagerly.

"I know, I'm excited but," she cuts off, bites her lip. "I'll have to quit the café."

I'm still staring at her, waiting for more, when she finally scowls and shifts under her bed covers. "Well, I thought you'd be upset that I'm leaving."

I frown at her, half hurt by the assumption that I wouldn't want her to follow her dreams. "That's ridiculous, it's a filler job for both of us. You were always going to be a beautician and I plan on a future in graphic design." I explain, add, "Just don't tell Dad I said that."

Kaila smiles darkly, "Oh, I will." She promises. I scowl, scoop up the pillow from the floor, and hurl it at her. She deflects with a giggle.

There's a knock on the half-closed door. We glance over to see Bas and Spencer perching in the doorway, shoulder to shoulder. "You ready Blue?" Spencer inquires, I notice he's changed from his joggers to black jeans, exchanged the bare-chested look for a t-shirt and jacket.

Kaila bolts up from the bed. "Gimme like five minutes."

"You mean twenty." He translates with a sigh that's more affection than annoyance.

Kaila smiles adoringly. "You know me so well, now out!" She shoos Spencer from the door, attempts to close it, but Bas halts the action with his palm, eyes on me.

"I saw your assignment, want help?" Bas asks, refusing to budge even as Kaila throws the brunt of her weight against the door. He glances amusedly at her, though the majority of his attention remains solely on me.

"Oh that," I sigh, start to shake my head, when abruptly, my focus snaps to Kaila and her squeal of protest.

With a huff and an explicit motion, Kaila backs off the door. "Fine!" She barks and starts undressing, headless of Bas's presence.

"Hey!" I sputter and lurch up from the desk chair, scuttling toward the door with the intention of preserving Kaila's privacy. And maybe also a bit jealous of her scarless skin. Bas's gaze never deviates from me, to which I'm grateful for. "One day Kaila. One day your complete lack of boundaries will bite you in the ass." I chastise, slamming her door shut. Through it, I hear her laugh.

"She's a wild child," Bas comments as he pulls me under his arm, guiding us back toward the couch. I snort a noncommittal response. "It's a good thing," he counters, a smirk on his lips as he jerks his head toward the kitchen, where Spencer leans on his arms and browses his phone while he waits. "Keeps him young."

Spencer's mouth quirks, "I heard that Killfeather."

"Just keepin' it real Haart."

Spencer looks up and flips Bas off. "Whatever asshole," he comments, straightening up from the counter. "Johnson, Bower, and a few others, plus Kaila and I, are going out later tonight to hail in the new year."

Bas's lips graze my ear. I shiver, suddenly uninterested in the project. "Didn't you celebrate the New Year on New Year's Eve?"

"Well, yeah," Spencer scoffs. "I got blitzed. But I didn't celebrate with the team."

Bas keeps up his open-mouthed kisses. "Hm."

"You should come with, Co-Captain, reintroduce yourself to your guys." Spencer snarks.

"I was only gone two weeks, not nearly enough time to forget how great I am." Bas rolls his eyes. "But we'll think about it."

We settle deeper on the couch together, legs and arms tangled up under a blanket as Bas pulls the laptop toward us. I groan and cover my face.

"Don't look, it's bad." I beg, lashing out blindly for the keyboard. Bas chuckles and deflects my grasping fingers.

"It is not, it's just unfinished." Bas argues, starts tapping on my computer.

"We're outsies!" Kaila twirls by in a short blue skirt and dark wool leggings complete with a black long-sleeve crop-top. Her long blue hair falls in perfect waves down her back – of course it does. She sweeps me into a hug on the couch while Bas continues to type, whispers, "I'll text you about the thing."

"Sure." I hug her back, glance at Spencer. "Keep her safe."

He winks at me. "Always."

The two exit in a gush of cold wind from the front door. I shiver and snuggle closer to Bas's warmth, getting a hit of his crisp alpine scent.

"You'd better check this before I screw it up." He taunts. I jerk my head from his shoulder.

"What're you talking about?" I demand, readjusting the laptop so it lays across my legs.

Bas shrugs, drapes his arm around my shoulders and rests the other on my hip, pulling me closer. "So, what're you trying to do?"

We spend the next while debating graphic design. I'm using the website his siblings asked me to make as my final project, but I don't know enough about them or their business to make it authentic. That leads us to him entertaining me with stories about Mia and Leo as kids having flour fights in the kitchen, baking cookies so black and burnt they tasted like coal, when their mom had to cover them in burn cream because they forgot the stove was hot or that the oven takes a while to cool down.

His stories make me laugh and help to create a persona in my head, one that I can match with their business. I use their experiences, add graphics, and upload photos that showcase them having fun while working. A page dedicated to shots of their previous work, and some details about how they started and where they are now. By the end, I've got the bones of a functioning website.

Bas clicks through the tabs, from the home page to the contact page, their bio, and then a menu page of things they carry in shop all the time, and a cart for placing orders. I can't fill in all the details, but that's what Mia and Leo are supposed to do anyway. In baker's terms, I build their cake and they cover it with icing and flowers.

It's not until my phone chimes with a text that we finally pull ourselves away from the computer. My screen flashes Kaila's name and a short text in all caps. I squeal and type a rushed response, stumbling to my feet and drawing Bas up with me.

"What's up?" He wonders as I skip off toward my room.

"Kaila got the job!"

"What job?"

I wave him off, change into something more presentable for celebratory drinks. I mean, I mostly have jeans and hoodies, but somewhere in here must be a nice shirt. Kaila's always been trying to taunt me into dressing nicer.

"Reecie," Bas protests, hands around my waist as I wiggle into a pair of skinny jeans. "I was hoping we could get undressed." He nuzzles my neck, and a delirious part of me almost gives in.

"Hey now," I chastise, slipping reluctantly from his arms. He looks disappointed as I start chasing a missing converse amid the mess on my closet floor. "Where did Spencer say they were going tonight?"

Bas crosses his arms, smile soft where he watches. "The Lighthouse on Park, but—"

I liberate my shoe from the wasteland of abandoned clothing and turn to face him. "Kaila got a new job, which is a big deal for her."

"I hear that, mon belle." He steps close to me; pulls my long hair from the messy bun it had been in and starts arranging it around my shoulders. "But that place is about to be packed. An entire hockey team, their significant others, and fans."

I know what he's saying and it's not for him. Bas loves attention and interacting with compete strangers. He's charismatic like that.

He also hasn't forgotten the last time I was by his side and suddenly thrown in the spotlight. Only I'm not that scared little girl anymore. How can I be? There's no darkness to hide from with Bas's shining light. Pain and fear seem like someone else's fever dream.

"The least I can do is pretend crowds don't make me squirm and get a drink with her." I state emphatically. "I can do this. I want to do this."

Those gorgeous hazel eyes search mine. "Okay."

"Okay?"

He shucks his sweats and I shriek out a giggle. "Guess I should get dressed, then."

I finger the elastic on his boxer briefs. Because evidently, I'm a tease when I'm not scared of people. "We can do the opposite when we get back."

Bas growls, the sound instantly igniting my blood. "I'm holding you to that."