46. Evie
Evie
BOOK CLUB BANDITS
LAYLA
I can’t wait any longer
CINDY
thank God someone said it
BELLA
move Totti’s dinner to lunch today before the game?
EVIE
HAHA
count me in
It’s been four days since my first therapy session and only today I’ve woken up without feeling bone-deep tired.
My therapist warned me it would be grueling, warned me that going through the memories and talking about what happened would utterly exhaust me.
I just didn’t think it would have such an impact on me for so long.
I’m just grateful I feel like myself again.
Today marks the first game of the season, and despite Caleb still ignoring my calls and not speaking to me, I’m still going to show up. For Matteo, and for Caleb, too.
Although I don’t think he’ll see it that way.
I haven’t seen my brother play in person in over a year, which is far too long, a tidbit that has guilt eating away at me. But if my first therapy session has shown me anything, though, it’s that I am carrying far too much guilt on my shoulders.
Walking down the apartment stairs, I’m triple-checking I have everything I need in my purse for the lunch drinks and the game itself when—
“Fuck no.”
Lifting my head, I spot Matteo swiveled toward me in his office chair. Shaking his head, he stands, stealing my breath in doing so. He’s shirtless, his corded muscles rippling as he walks.
That’s not all, though.
He’s wearing sweatpants low on his hips, so low that I can see the V trailing down to his groin.
My stomach flips, butterflies taking flight as my core pulses.
That is a new sensation.
I’ve never been one to initiate intimacy, have always done it to appease a man and get it over with, but looking at Matteo, a hunger I’ve never experienced before awakens deep within my body.
Swallowing, I finally lift my eyes to his face and see the smug grin pasted across his lips.
“As much as I love watching you eye-fuck me,” he drawls, stopping before me and pinching the jersey I’m wearing like it’s a bomb that will go off at any moment. He pulls a face like he’s sucked on a lemon. “What is this?”
Frowning, I peer down at the IceHawks jersey I always wear. “Um, my jersey?”
Letting go of it, Matteo folds his arms over his chest. “Take it off,” he demands.
I scoff out an incredulous laugh…which is made a little less convincing by the pulsing in my core again. “Excuse me?” I say.
“You’re wearing Caleb’s number.”
“Yeah, because he’s my brother,” I say, matter-of-factly.
“I’ve dreamed of the day you would wear my jersey, Dove. I don’t want to dream anymore.”
The warmth that was flooding my veins intensifies. Deciding to do what I always do best with him, I tease, “Oh…is that right?”
His eyes heat at the cheekiness in my tone.
We needed this. We needed some lighthearted flirting.
And fuck, does he look so good right now.
Matteo’s tongue darts out, slowly licking his bottom lip. “Take it off, Dove.”
“Make me.”
The words are out of my mouth before I realize what I’ve said, but I’m glad I did. I want him, badly. I’ve never had this feeling before, this bodily reaction. And now that the Valenti charm is directed on me, now that he isn’t holding back anymore, my body is reveling in the attention.
Matteo’s eyes spark at the challenge, his grin slow to develop before turning into a dazzling smile.
At the mischief I see in his eyes, I spin on my heel, drop my purse, and run.
Heading for the stairs, I only make it two steps before his arm wraps around my middle, pulling me flush against his chest.
“Can’t run from a defense player,” he teases before whirling me around in one fluid motion. He lets go, but places his arms on either side of me, one on the banister and the other on the wall. He smirks down at me like he wishes to ravish me. “Take it off, baby.”
My brow arches. “Baby?”
“You can be called Dove again when you’re in my jersey,” he drawls, his voice so deep it makes a shiver rush down my spine.
“And why do you want me in your jersey so badly?”
“My woman, my jersey.”
My heart races, the blood rushing in my ears as I look up at the man I’ve always wanted and thought I could never have. “Is that what I am? Your woman?”
Matteo’s swallow is audible. “If you’d have me, I’d be honored to be yours officially.”
“Officially?” I ask.
“I’ve always been yours.”
He seems to stop breathing, seems to hold his breath as he slowly reaches blindly for the console table behind him. The forest of his soul pierces my ocean, earth and water colliding as we feed each other life.
Opening the console drawer, he pulls something out.
It’s a black and white jersey.
Valenti.
27.
Unraveling it from its neat fold, he holds it up between us, revealing it to be my size.
“Will you do me the honor and wear my jersey?”
Matteo’s heart is on his sleeve, his emotions written stark across his face. The wall I always wanted him to drop around me is eviscerated as he shows me his vulnerability.
He’s scared.
Clasping the hem of the jersey I’m wearing, I slowly take it off. The moment my skin and bra are exposed, Matteo sucks in a hiss of air. My blonde hair cascades over my shoulder as I lean forward and gently take the jersey he’s offering me.
For the first time in my life, I’m not filled with anxiety or dread as I undress in front of someone.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes on my face as he repeats like an answered prayer, “So fucking beautiful.”
Smiling to myself, I slip into the new jersey. Once it’s on, I splay my hands across his chest, soaking up the warmth and contact of his skin against mine, savoring the way he stops breathing entirely at my touch and how right this feels between us.
How nothing has ever felt right unless it was with him.
I slide my hands up his body, my nails gently scratching the nape of his neck and scalp. My heart skips a beat as he groans, eyes fluttering.
It does something to my body to see him so turned on by me. The power is heady, and it oddly makes me feel in charge, to know that I affect him just as much as he affects me.
Lifting onto the tips of my toes, I whisper against his lips, “I’m yours, Matteo. Every part of me is yours. Are you mine?”
“I’ve been yours since I was seven years old,” he admits before bringing our lips together and kissing me in such a way I feel as if he’s pouring every emotion he’s ever felt for me into it.
The kiss is gentle yet demanding. Soft yet invigorating. Languid yet heated.
It’s a promise.
A vow.
One I doubt he will ever break.
He pulls back, resting his forehead against mine as he declares, “I’ve always been yours, and I’ll continue to be for as long as my soul exists. In every lifetime, I’ll choose you. Always you, Dove.”
I pour everything I have into the kiss, the tirade of emotions swelling in my chest, the need to touch him overpowering and the waves of love limitless.
Walking into Totti’s, the girls take one look at my face, then the jersey I’m wearing with the number 27 on it, before they all start clapping.
Rolling my eyes, I take a seat beside Cindy, chuckling.
It feels good to have girlfriends, ones that are genuine and kind.
Learning so much about them through the group chat has honestly eased my heart.
Soothed a trust wound I didn’t realize was there.
I suppose you can’t have your best friend backstab you like I did and jump into new friendships without some hesitancy, though.
Cindy lifts the fruity pink cocktail to her lips with a smirk. “I can’t fucking wait to hear this.”
Bella leans forward, grinning. “Layla said you and Matteo made out in the elevator.”
“Is it true Caleb caught you?”
Cindy snaps her head to Layla. “I didn’t hear that part. You were holding out on me! What the fuck?”
Layla’s cheeks heat, turning as crimson as her hair in its gorgeous half-up, half-down hairstyle. “I didn’t want to share details in case Evie didn’t want us to know.”
Cindy fixes me with wide, imploring eyes. “You want us to know, right?”
Snorting out a laugh, I scan the barcode on the table to order a cocktail for myself. “You girls are like a hurricane.” I nod at Bella. “Yes, we kissed in the elevator.” Next, I look at Layla. “Yes, Caleb saw.” Finally, I smirk at Cindy. “And of course I want you to know.”
Cindy hoots before peering down at my phone and nudging my shoulder. “Celebrate, but be careful. Most first-timers walk out of here like they’re on a boat.”
Bella cackles. “She’s talking about herself.”
“That’s frightening, Cindy can hold her liquor.”
“Precisely.” Grimacing, Cindy places her cocktail down before sighing at it longingly. “They’re just so tasty.”
Layla waves her hands in the air. “I’m sorry, but there’s more important things than cocktails, Cin.” Her innocent eyes bore into mine. “Is he still mad?”
I hit order on my phone before placing it face down and sighing. “Yeah, he hasn’t answered any of my texts or calls.”
“Caleb?” Bella asks. After nodding in answer, she gives me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure he will come around.”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I’ve never seen him that mad before. It certainly changed the dynamic of our relationship.”
“He’s being a baby if you ask me.”
“I understand his anger,” I tell Cindy. “He feels betrayed. He thinks it was going on a lot longer than it was but…”
“But?” she probes.
Blowing out a raspberry, I confess, “He said things to me that I don’t think I can forgive him for.”
Layla reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry, Evie.”
Genuine warmth floods my heart at how much these girls care about me already. “Thanks,” I whisper. Shaking off the heaviness that has overcome the table, I brush my hair behind my shoulder and take off my coat, the attention on me stifling.
Cindy’s brow arches. “The jersey…does this mean it’s official?”
Heat crawls its way across my cheeks. “According to him, he’s always been mine.”
The girls burst with excitement as they scream in unison, “Awww!”
“But yes, we’re official now.” As soon as I see Cindy get a twinkle in her eyes, I quickly change the subject. “Enough about me.” Wagging my brows in Bella’s direction, I ask, “How’s engagement life?”
It was the right thing to bring up. Her eyes widen, her skin suddenly glowing. “Beyond my wildest imagination. Grayson is just so…”
“Sweet?”
“Attentive?”
“Golden retriever coded?”
Bella snorts at the last one Cindy threw out before smiling to herself and declaring, “Perfect for me. Nothing has ever felt so right. As if everything between us slotted together like pieces to a puzzle.”
Her words make Matteo’s face, with his charming smile, flash across my mind. Matteo is my puzzle piece, the other half of my soul.
Taking our seats by the home bench, I can’t believe I forgot how euphoric the arena feels during games. The air is energetic, the fans’ screams and cheers full of so much passion that it makes me smile.
I’ve always been proud of Caleb—both him and Matteo, actually. I remember the day Caleb told me that he and Matteo were both being traded to IceHawks.
My two favorite people were coming home.
Now sitting in the stands, watching as they skate out, both wearing the IceHawks jerseys, the fans going insane for the team, a sense of pride fills my heart again at the sight.
Matteo spots me first, his eyes never leaving mine as they skate around their side of the rink, moving into their warm-up stretches.
Cindy sits back, popping a kernel of popcorn in her mouth. “I always love the stretches.”
Layla sighs dreamily. “Me too.”
Laughing at them, I turn back to the rink, locking eyes on Caleb this time. He’s looking in my direction, but he’s not looking at me, though. He’s looking at…oh shit.
“What the fuck is up his ass?” Cindy murmurs beside me.
I grimace. “I think he just saw the jersey number I’m wearing.”
27 instead of 11.
Caleb’s head slowly swivels to Matteo, confirming what I thought.
“They get so territorial over jerseys,” Bella says as she leans forward.
Layla snorts beside her. “You’d know that best.”
Bella’s cheeks heat and I want to ask what Layla means by that but I can’t, not as I watch my brother shake his head and skate as far away from me as he can.
Grayson glances between Caleb and Matteo, worry creasing his brows.
Kieran then quickly makes his way over to Matteo, Grayson soon after heading in Caleb’s direction.
“They’re doing damage control,” Bella announces.
“No damage control could fix that.” Around another mouthful of popcorn, Cindy adds, “I wish I were a fly right now.”
“Asher will tell you everything later, I’m sure,” I say. He’s already watching from the sidelines, listening to Caleb and Grayson.
Cindy snorts. “I taught him so well.”
“The men gossip more than us,” Layla adds in.
“Point proven by Kieran running to you about the elevator,” I say.
Cindy’s smirk is downright devilish. “Babe, that piece of gossip was too juicy for even a nun to keep to herself.”
Laughing at her choice of words, the girls and I continue to chat amongst ourselves as I decide that this has gone on long enough between my brother and me.
Tomorrow, I’ll call him, try to actually speak with him.
If he keeps dodging my calls…well, he’s just a few floors up. I’ll turn into Irving and hound him.
Stubbornness isn’t just a hockey player trait.
Layla leans back in her seat, our gazes colliding behind Cindy’s head. “Do you think they can put their feelings aside and play well together?”
“They have to. It’s their job.” Cindy and Bella give each other a look that has me doubting myself. “Right?” I add.
Iwasn’t right.
They couldn’t sort their differences out for the game—or more so, Caleb couldn’t.
I’ve seen those two work together, how they practically flow as one, and tonight was nothing like how they usually are.
IceHawks still won, but I could tell by Caleb and Matteo’s grim faces that this wasn’t a good game for them.