Capture the Moment (Moments #1)

1. Blake

one

Blake

“Fuck, the flash is on, I just need one more…”

CLICK!

CLICK! CLICK!

CLICK!

My head feels as if I’d been punched in the back of my skull by Rocky Balboa as the sounds of a camera clicking and cursing snatches me from the shitshow of a dream I’d been having. Out of instinct, my arm reaches out toward the pink phone in the air; I groan as the girl beside me yelps.

So much for sleeping in…

I can feel the shock radiating from her as she sputters, trying, and failing, to come up with an excuse as I unlock her phone and go through the camera roll. My head pounds harder as I scroll through each of the pictures she’d taken, deleting them all.

Twenty-seven pictures in the span of… two minutes?

“Chelsea…” Her name falls from my lips in a rasp. She perks up and then lies on top of me. Her breasts are cold and hard as they press against my bare chest. I groan and close an eye at the sight of her.

“Twenty-seven,” I croak.

“Huh?”

“You have twenty-seven seconds to put on some clothes and get the fuck out.”

That sounded harsh… Maybe I should have softened the blow?

“But… But Blakey , I thought we were having a good time together. You wouldn’t kick me out like this, right?” she stutters, and I can feel those big ass bug eyes staring at me. My headache grows pounding against my skull, and I groan again.

“You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. My niece should be in the living room right about now, so I’ll walk you through the back.” My tone is stern, more than I’d thought it would be and I’m thankful because I feel like Earth has fallen off its axis drifting helplessly throughout the galaxy.

“You’re such a dick, Blake Wilder,” Chelsea says through gritted teeth, yanking on her underwear.

“Are you done?” I ask, shielding my eyes as she pulls back my curtains. A total dick move on her end, might I add.

I’m annoyed as she stares at me from the other side of my room, now fully clothed in her pink mini-dress from last night. As much as Chelsea likes to call me a dick, she also likes to ride it. So, I never take anything the hypocrite has to say seriously.

She knows that Friday mornings are reserved for my niece Delilah, I don’t know why she’s acting all weird this time around.

Sneaking Chelsea down the stairs without the guys noticing her is a piece of cake. I make sure to avoid all family areas such as the kitchen and living room and sneak her right out the back. We make it all the way to the back gate in complete silence before she decides to open her mouth once again, annoying the hell out of me.

“You know…you can call me sometimes, Blake. I’m always here,” she purrs.

Literally.

I don’t know how one can roll the r in the word “here”, but Chelsea manages to do so and leave my already limp dick, limper than a dog that’s been hit by a car.

“Yeah…I know.” And with that, I close the gate’s door in her face.

As I re-enter the house, my headache seems to wash away as loud child-like giggles sound from the living room. A smile lifts on my cheeks as I make my way towards the angelic noise. I pause in the doorway of our living room and snap a photo of Braxton, Charlie, Derek, and Delilah sitting around Delilah’s princess table in the center of our living room. The sight of four grown men dressed head to toe in tiny princess gowns with crowns and tiny cups in their hands brings me to my knees as I double over in laughter. I snap another photo of them and chuckle to myself as I send it to the hockey team chat.

“Shut up. You’d be in a dress too if you were on time for tea,” Charlie, a senior defenseman and probably one of the most unserious people in the world, scolds me.

I stifle my laughter as he gives me the meanest mug he can muster, though it resembles an angry puppy. Charlie's long dirty blonde hair is pulled into a small bun on the top of his head, being held together by a fluffy pink scrunchie. If there was an award for the least intimidating person in the world, he’d win it.

But the reminder of me being late for teatime with Delilah does break my heart. I frown as I look down at the brown-haired princess beside her father and sigh because she’s truly a gift in human form. Delilah looks up at me with a wide toothy grin, her large doe brown eyes sparkle as she sees me.

My heart melts.

I’d die for this girl.

And I’m also her favorite uncle everyone, don’t listen to what that fucker Jace says.

“Deli, I’m so sorry for being late. Can you forgive me?” I stoop down to match her eye level. Delilah gives me her biggest smile to date before narrowing her eyes at me.

“Only if you get me a new plushy. Daddy says that I can’t get anymore.” She pouts, folding her tiny arms over herself, and oh if that doesn’t make my heart swell even larger…

“Well, we just can’t have that now, can we?” I match her pout, scooping her up in my arms. “Do you want me to beat your daddy up?” Although I already know the answer, I ask anyway and earn a slap to the back of my head from her father .

“Bad Lakey.” She pouts, jutting out her bottom lip as I tickle under her chin. Delilah giggles lightly and forgets what I said about her dad as I sit her back down. She hands me my own teacup, pink with little bows on the handle.

It'd been my designated cup for the past three days. I grin cheekily and take a “sip” from the cup. Although my fingers are way too large for the handle, I still do my job as an uncle and take a sip. For all the idiots out there, this is how you keep kids happy. For example, if a toddler hands you a toy phone and says, “This is for you!” What are you going to do? Decline it?! No, you answer the goddamn phone and act your ass off, that’s what you do.

The five of us sit and talk with Delilah; we listen to her rants about the latest sugar plum princess movie, and we laugh when she tells us the random joke she’d seen on TV. Over our almost three years as a team, and as friends, we’ve all grown to look at each other as family. Delilah included.

Delilah is Derek’s daughter. He had her in his junior year of high school and has been taking care of her as a single dad ever since. So naturally, the guys and I have adopted her as our niece. We do everything with her from tea parties to playing with dolls to letting her do our make-up. You name it—we probably did it.

Even though I’ve never met Delilah’s mom, I can tell that Delilah looks nothing like her. Due to the sheer fact that Delilah is the epitome of Derek from her deep brown hair to her bright brown eyes and the light freckles that twinkle across her cheeks like stars. There is no denying that Delilah is Derek Perez’s daughter.

“What was that about?” Braxton whispers to me. We’re on the other side of the “tea table” after Delilah decided that she wanted to sit between Derek and Charlie.

I raise an eyebrow at Brax and try to ignore him as he sighs.

“ Chelsea , we could hear her upstairs. What was that about?” the brown-skinned man prompts again, wrinkling his nose.

“She took pictures of me sleeping.” I grimace as thoughts of what she could’ve done with said pictures rack my mind.

“Pictures? ”

“It’s the price of being a celebrity,” I say as a joke but can’t help but feel how cringeworthy it is for the words to leave my mouth.

I’m not a celebrity, per se. But family is well known. My parents are practically every girl's teenage dream whether they’re 15 or 30 with my mom being a bestselling romance author and my dad being in the NFL Hall of Fame. Then you have my older sister, Juliette. She models for a big company in New York that you’ve probably heard of but I can never remember the company's name. I was teased relentlessly in middle and high school for my “hot sister” or whatever that means. Those guys haven’t seen Jules for the true gremlin that she is.

And then there’s me, Blake Nicolas Wilder, an NHL prospect, and a pain in my mother’s ass. Imagine Dad’s disappointment when he found out I wanted to play hockey instead of football. He refused to eat breakfast with me for weeks—

“Blake, did you hear me?”

“He’s daydreaming again…”

“ Uncle Lake! Look at my tiara!” Delilah jumps in front of me, pulling me completely out of my thoughts. I smile as she shoves a glittery-pasty thing in my face with a smile brighter than the sun. The glitter drips onto my lap but I overlook it as I pull the “tiara” into my hands, grimacing slightly at the gooey substance.

“It’s beautiful?”

“Did he just ignore us?” Braxton questions aloud, frowning at Charlie and Derek.

“I’m not ignoring you; I’m simply listening to the most important person first…”

That earns me a light punch on my shoulder from Charlie.

“Dude…we were talking about tonight’s P-A-R-T-Y. Cupid and Alec should be back in a bit with all of the K-E-G-S’ and we need to know if you’re going to be there.” Braxton stresses, folding his hands in his lap.

Ah…the infamous spelling out words bit. A wave of amusement flows through me as the big and brawny Braxton Oakley spells out simple words to hide our plans from the little angel in front of me. I nod at Brax as a response as Delilah’s large eyes travel between the two of us, trying to piece the words together.

“What about you, D?” Charlie asks Derek, his gaze focused now on painting one of Delilah’s fingernails as Derek takes over the other.

Derek shifts uncomfortably in his miniature pink seat, the tips of his ears reddening as he directs his attention to Delilah playing with a cup of water. “I’ll be there only after I meet Deli’s sitter. Mom’s going back to Texas for the weekend, so I’m outsourcing tonight,” he says catching Delilah’s water cup with reflexes faster than light, saving it from the floor.

“What about her recital tomorrow—”

“We’re home motherfuck– Party people! ” Jace’s loud voice booms from the foyer followed by a loud crashing and small expletives from Alec.

“Would it kill you to move out the doorway? People have shit to do, Heart!” he shouts.

“Well if you’d been paying attention, you’d see the God-like ass standing in front of you, Tu.” Jace retorts, waltzing into the living room where the rest of us are. He runs a hand through his blonde waves, smiling wildly as his eyes land on Deli.

“CUPID!” she yells as she jumps into his arms.

Jace scoops up Delilah with a spin. “Hello little sunshine, have you caused any mayhem today?”

“Not yet…” She pouts.

“Well, let’s cause some! As your favorite uncle, I declare today—”

“That’s enough.” Derek sighs, plucking his daughter from Jace.

“Oh, shut up.” Alec waves Jace off.

“Who lied to you? I’m obviously the favorite.” I scoff.

Jace simply rolls his eyes at the three of us, plopping down on our large brown couch. He lays back as if he’s about to take a nap but quickly opens his eyes widely, resembling a crazed man. His light green eyes are wicked as he looks around the room. “Back to our debate from earlier, Tu Tu. I think the guys know the true answer.” He smirks.

“Who do you think will get the most numbers, Alec or me?” Jace asks .

Alec sighs exasperatedly throwing his arms in the air clearly annoyed with this topic. “For the fortieth time, I like D-I-C-K. Not P-U-S-S-Y. But I’m more than sure that I could get a girl's number quicker than you can.” Alec shrugs.

“Hush and let the others answer.” Jace rolls his eyes, gesturing for one of us to continue. Unlike Braxton and Charlie who love to debate with the two idiots, Derek and I would rather not. So while those four go at it, I sidle up to the father-daughter duo.

“What time’s the recital again? I got to make sure my ‘#1 uncle’ shirt is pressed and ready,” I say, sticking my tongue out at Delilah as she pokes her body up between her dad’s legs.

Derek frowns. I know he’s annoyed with us asking about Delilah’s first ballet recital. He’d been more nervous than Deli for her to perform. “It's at 5:00, please don’t be late,” he says, running a hand through Deli’s curls.

“When am I ever—”

“Last week, at move-in.” Jace shrugs.

“Yesterday for lunch,” Alec quips.

“At last year's banquet.” Braxton sighs.

Charlie laughs probably the loudest I’ve ever heard him. “You were late to your own surprise party which you planned!” he guffaws I can feel my cheeks redden at the memory of being late to my own birthday two weeks ago.

I’d never had a surprise party before, and I didn’t want my first ever one to be horrible, so I planned it. As for being late, my dear sister Juliette is to blame. She’d broken the internet with a photo of her and her ex-boyfriend, Carsin, in front of where we’d had our family dinner. Thus, resulting in us being surrounded by screaming fans and paparazzi. If I ever do become “famous”, I hope it’s never to that extent. I get hives just thinking about it.

“Well fine…but I won’t ever be late for something like that. Trust me.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Wilder,” Derek chuckles though his smile turns upside down with a quickness. I watch him curiously as he jumps up from Deli’s small tea chair, the chair sticks to his butt as he looks around the room frantically.

“Deli go get your shoes on, we’re late to meet your sitter!” Derek practically shouts, detaching himself from the chair as Delilah giggles running to the foyer with Derek in tow.

Seeing that reminds me of just how much I want to be a dad. I want to be the guy that chases his daughter around with little teacups and plastic tiaras and to have someone look at me as if I hung the sun, the moon, and all the stars in the universe. It’ll be my reality someday; unfortunately, today is not that day. Someone’ll love me soon just like that and I can’t wait. Well… I can but—ugh.

You know what I mean.

Anyways…

“So, what was Chelsea doing here? I know you didn’t fuck her.” Braxton chuckles, successfully stealing my peace at the reminder of Chelsea Myrtle and her god-awful pink phone. Who in the world needs a bright pink phone?

“And how do you know that?"

“You don’t do puck bunnies… That’s more Charlie’s style.” He shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and I cringe.

Though, Chelsea is a puck bunny…I wouldn’t call her one. (But she is. She’s definitely one through and through.)

Chelsea has tried numerous times to hook up with most of the team. She’d been successful more times than I can count but last night I didn’t go all the way with her.

She offered to give me a blowjob, and I’m not an idiot, so of course I let her give me one—and I’m not afraid of a little cuddle either. How she ended up completely naked, I have no idea.

I run a hand over my face, trying to stall for time, the feeling of my ears heating gives me away more than I want, and I sigh as Jace jumps from his spot on the couch.

“Oh my God! You fucked Moaning Myrtle!” he yells, appalled as if he were the one to do anything with Chelsea Myrtle last night.

“I didn’t fuck her!” I try but that just causes more uproar in the room

“She sucked you off!” Charlie claps, laughing like a horse .

Can I die now? Is there a hole for me to crawl into anywhere? I try to hide behind my hands, but Jace Heart has other plans as he pulls them from my face. “Oh, this is gold.” He laughs, patting my cheek, but I swat him away.

The boys had nicknamed her Moaning Myrtle after a five-hour Harry Potter binge. They coined the nickname since both Myrtle’s moaned louder than life…only one of them being a little more bearable than the other.

And we both know which one I’m talking about.

“Oh, shut up, I don’t need to be here for this! I’m going out, I’ll be back by the time the party starts,” I say waving them off as I stalk up the stairs to my room.

Fuck them and their stupid ass laughter. I’m getting donuts. Donuts never make fun of me for my sexual choices

I’d thought that donuts would never make fun of me.

I was wrong.

So very wrong .

Jace decided that he also needed to leave out with the excuse of us needing more beer for tonight's party, so he hopped in my passenger seat before I could tell him no. He’d spent the entire ride to The Sugar Hole, the donut shop ten minutes away from our off-campus home, making innuendos about my dick and donut holes.

Leave it to Heart to say something romantic…

Entering The Sugar Hole, we’re immediately met with the sweet aroma of fried dough and happiness. I sigh, content with my new surroundings until Mr. Heart sidles up to me with the biggest shit eating grin known to man.

“Don’t even think about it,” I chuckle, already knowing him and whatever is traveling through his mind.

In the beginning, Jace and I hated one another. Where he was overly loud and talkative, I liked peace and was far less talkative. Though, I think he’s slowly converted me into an extrovert like him, I still love my peace. There’s something soothing about being content with yourself and never having to talk to a soul whenever you’re on your own—

“Oh my Goodness, Cleo! Just pick one. We’ve been here for ten minutes. ” A loud voice that I recognize as Georgia Adams, the fashion chick that was in my English class last semester, yells at her friend who’s dressed in pink from head to toe. She even has a large pink bow in her hair.

What’s up with girls and the color pink? I mean I love red but you don’t see me wearing red twenty-four—

For a second, I lose my breath as the girl in the pink turns to face her friend with a large smile. She has the side-profile of a goddess . Her nose is perfectly sloped with a small stud adorning her nostril. The girl's smile is bright and welcoming…inviting, and I feel like putty as I stare at her while she laughs at her friend.

“But there’s so many options! Look, they have Strawberry Glaze, Pink Truffle… Oh! Is that a Pink Kit-Kat on a donut?! I’ll take two of those,” she says to the woman behind the counter in a sweet tone. I’m so enraptured by her that I don’t notice the blonde devil who’d been with me heading towards her.

What the fuck?

“Now, if I hadn't known any better… I’d say that you’re my best friend. But that would be crazy because Cleo Jones is in New York right now, right? ” He taunts her, twirling her ponytail between his fingers, smiling as if he is her best friend and not a stranger.

How the hell does he know her?

And why haven’t I met her yet?

I know every girl on campus, and she is definitely not one of them.

The girl, Cleo, practically jumps into Jace’s arms hugging him as if he wasn’t the cheeky bastard that I knew. She hugged him like he was someone who she’d known for a lifetime. When they pull back from each other, they’re still smiling and chatting about God knows what. I barely notice the daggers Georgia is sending Jace’s way as I stride towards them, standing next to him .

“Are you two coming to our party tonight?” I ask, smiling solely at the brown-skinned girl dressed like a sugar plum princess. Maybe pink isn’t so bad; I try to think and grimace viscerally but I have a feeling it’ll grow on me.

My confidence takes a small hit as she doesn’t give me the time of day. No, she turns back to Jace and gives him a small smile before focusing on the patient worker in front of her.

What the actual fuck?

“It’ll be small,” I try, my tone more hopeful than confident as I look to Jace for help. The bastard smiles at me but remains quiet.

“No pressure.” I look to Georgia for help next. Though she and I hadn’t talked a lot last semester, we weren’t complete strangers.

“If Jace isn’t there then yes but, if he is, you can count me out,” Georgia sasses, shifting her weight with folded arms.

“Consider him gone.” The joke is easy as it falls from my lips, the sugar plum princess quietly chuckles at that. I win.

One point Wilder, Universe zero.

“I don’t want her there either but CJ you’re more than welcome.” Jace shrugs, walking to the other counter.

“Um…we’ll think about it?” Cleo says more like a question than anything to Jace but it’s something. She glances my way fleetingly before focusing back on her order.

I watch as the girls leave. Jace chuckles from beside me, clearly finding my small interaction amusing. “Oh, Wilder, I’d pay good money to see CJ bust your balls. But for free? You’re giving me an early birthday gift.” He grins, opening his small treat bag filled with donut holes.

“Oh, shut up and eat your fucking balls.”