Chapter 7
ELIJAH
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I blow out a breath before pulling another deep into my lungs as Jayden and I leave my room to meet the rest of the team in the lobby before the flight.
Hesitation drags at my heels while I check my phone again for a reply from Finley.
Nothing. Only Lex’s updates lighting up my screen with what’s happening on his end.
“Relax,” Jayden says, snatching my phone and locking it before shoving it into the pocket of my chinos. “Fin’s still asleep. It’s only seven in the morning in LA, so… Relax. Okay?”
I nod, glancing up at him, taking him in. His eyes are still a little bloodshot from the night before, but no longer teary after his power nap while I spoke to Shayne about how to handle the press. Or rather, how to avoid them completely.
Before I do or say anything else, I need to talk to Finley. We need to talk. The three of us have to figure out what’s happening before the rest of the world barges in and makes its demands of us. Before its opinions are slapped on us.
I need to get my head straight.
Since talking to Connie at the gym and after last night, my mind’s been a carousel of questions that only lead to more questions. I can’t pin down what I like and what I don’t. What I want. What I fear.
All I know is I love Finley and Jayden. Being around them changes the rhythm of my heart, makes my lungs feel too big for my chest. They turn the noise in my head into something quiet, calm.
I don’t know what that means. Because I’ve never felt it with anyone else.
Sure, I like the guys on the team. Lex. Connie’s beautiful. Christina, too. But they don’t affect me like Jayden and Finley do. When I’m with them, I can breathe. When I’m not, it’s like I’m suffocating.
It’s like all my breaths are tethered to their existence. Like my world only spins because they’re in it.
We stop by the elevator, the air too still, too charged. I can’t stop glancing at Jayden’s profile. His lips are still red and swollen, his eyes flicking between mine with that crooked half-smile that makes my stomach clench.
We’re smiling at each other like a couple of idiots with a secret. My insides hum despite the heaviness in my chest. It’s giddy, and the longer we’re like this, the more electrifying it becomes.
The taste of his kiss still lingers on my tongue. The ghost of his hands still buzzes against my skin.
This relentless, magnetic pull between us has become something astronomical. Unstoppable.
I inch closer, letting the back of my hand brush his knuckles. Jayden’s smile brightens, slow and teasing, before he turns to face me fully. The moment stretches thin, airless. Time folds in on itself when our palms meet, skin to skin.
“Fuck,” Jayden groans, the sound guttural, setting fire to every nerve in my body.
My pores zing with awareness.
God, he’s beautiful.
His nails drag up my fingers to my palm. “This is going to be impossible.”
“What is?” I ask, though I already know. I’m still licking my lips, trying to chase the ghost of his mouth like it might dull the ache in my veins.
“God, Eli,” he growls, low and rough, eyes narrowing on mine. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing you. Wanting to lick and bite and suck and… fuck… you’re killing me.”
Every word hits me like a pulse. I feel it everywhere.
I wish I could give him what he wants right now—but loving him doesn’t change how I love Finley. How I’ve always loved Finley—with everything I am.
Until I talk to her, until the three of us address everything that’s happening, we can’t steamroll ahead.
It’s not fair to her, and I refuse to hurt her any more than I already have.
And that I will have to. Because Jayden is right; until I face my past, I’ll never outrun it.
I’ll never make her happy the way she deserves. The way I want to.
Like he can hear my thoughts, Jayden grips my wrist. “Everything is going to work out.”
“Will it?” I glance down at our sneakers—white and colorful, neat and scuffed.
Focus on something small. Center yourself. It’s what the Biofeedback sessions have taught me.
“It’ll hurt, and it’ll be ugly. But, Eli…” He tugs at my fingertips. “Look at me.”
I do.
“Finley loves you, too. More than any awful feeling the past or the truth might make her feel.”
I’ve been repeating that to myself for hours, but every second without a message from her, the louder the voice in my head gets with all the I told you so’s I’ve been working so hard to silence.
“Eli… Sweetheart…” His voice gentles, a brush of air. My chest squeezes at the endearment. His hand skims my jaw, soft as breath, and my lungs twist around my heart. “Fin’s smart and strong, and you have to trust that. Trust her.”
His gaze pins me in place, steady and sure. When I look at him, I see her, too.
Jayden and Finley. Together, they’re the two halves of my safe place. I never realized how much their love for each other etched them deeper into my bones. When I see them together, the world feels possible.
I cup Jayden’s hand against my jaw, leaning into it, breathing him in.
“I love you.”
The words fall before I can stop them. I don’t try to anymore. Saying it feels like stepping out of the shade. Like sunlight finally finding my skin.
Jayden beams, that radiant grin that could stop time. I’m weightless, drunk on it. This is how he makes Finley feel, too. Like we’re not stuck anymore. Like we’re the swallows. Our feathers so smooth that we pass through the air without the friction of where we came from dragging us back.
The elevator pings open, forcing space between us.
We haven’t talked about what we are yet—not in relation to the team. Hockey is still our profession, and the rules are written in invisible ink all around us. And we don’t know what they mean for us yet. We don’t know what they mean for the team…
“You guys getting in or what?” Matheo’s voice cuts through the moment, his heavy steps vibrating the floor.
Someone’s clearly in a mood.
“Good morning to you, too, buddy,” Jayden sings as we step inside. He starts pressing the button for every single floor between ours and the lobby.
I fight a laugh when Matheo glares, blue fire blazing in his eyes. Typical Jayden—poking the bear like it’s his morning workout. The familiarity almost steadies me.
“What the actual fuck, seu cona de sab?o?” Matheo swats at Jayden’s hand. “Vai para a puta que pariu, gajo!”
Yeah. Definitely grumpy if he’s resorted to Portuguese curses.
He jabs his knuckles into Jayden’s ribs while Jayden laughs and keeps pressing buttons like a hyperactive kid.
The mirrored walls turn us into reflections of chaos; two overgrown schoolboys in matching clothes, horsing around before class.
Except Matheo is a two-hundred-and-twenty-four-pound enforcer.
Even though Jayden’s taller and heavier, it takes everything in me to stay still, hands shoved in my pockets, pretending I’m unaffected. Pretending I don’t want to rip Matheo off of him for laying a finger on what’s mine.
Breathe. Let them have their normal.
Jayden’s making exaggerated “ouch” noises with every jab. They spar like this all the time. If Matheo’s going to throw hits, Jayden can take them.
“What’s that name you like to call me again? Palerma?” Jayden teases when the elevator stops and nobody gets on. “That’s it, Palerma… get it out of your system.”
“You are the idiot. A fucking annoying idiot that can’t keep his stupid fucking head in the game and—”
“Are you mad at me?” Jayden cuts him off with a smirk. “Feels like you’re angry, buddy.”
Matheo flips him off. “Chupe-lá, corno.”
The elevator stops. Starts. Stops again. Each time, Matheo’s breathing gets rougher, angrier.
Jayden leans back, eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “What did I do?”
There’s only one thing that comes to mind: the loss. Last night wasn’t Jayden’s best, and that’s on me.
Our off-ice mess followed us to the rink. Normally, we show up, no matter what. Last night, we didn’t.
Which, again, makes us complicated and potentially messy.
Matheo’s glare bounces between us before locking on Jayden. That’s when I move. I step to Jayden’s side, close enough that our shoulders brush. If he takes the hit, I take it, too.
“We lost the game because of you,” Matheo bites out, face flaming red. “We lost because you’re too wrapped up in him to actually play hockey, and now you’re… you’re… Fuck!”
Silence drops heavy between us. Matheo’s eyes flick down to where our sides touch. It’s nothing unusual, but he knows.
He knows even if he doesn’t acknowledge it.
“Fuck,” he mutters, quieter now.
“Feel better?” Jayden asks, tone stripped of humor.
Matheo exhales through his nose, runs both hands through his curls, pulling at his neck. When he looks up again, the fight’s half-gone.
“Call me whatever you want,” Jayden says. His voice is calm but trembling beneath it. “You think I’m a pussy-ass bitch, that’s fine, amigo. Hell, I don’t even care that you think I’m a cuckold. But you ever call my momma a whore again, and I’ll slap your teeth out of your head.”
I’ve seen Jayden lose it over less. The fact he hasn’t swung yet says everything about how much Matheo means to him.
“Jayden—”
“I don’t want your fucking apology, Matheo.” Jayden pushes off the wall as the elevator dings for the lobby. Without brushing past him, he strides out.
Every muscle in him is coiled tight, his fury vibrating under my skin like it’s mine, too.
When Matheo’s gaze drags to me, I lose the last thread of calm. I grab his jaw, forcing his eyes to meet mine. “We didn’t lose because of Jayden, or because he’s caught up in me. We lost because we played a terrible game, Rio.”
He nods, silent. I slap my other hand to the door-open button and release him, stepping out with him before anyone can notice.
Before he walks away, I block his path. “The team’s two men down, and Oliver’s still finding his feet. Those are the facts.”
“You’re not helping the shit show,” he growls, glaring me up and down. “Do you even see what you’re doing to him? The way he follows you around like a lovesick puppy? Always pining for your attention… Always—”
“Apologize,” I cut in, voice low. “And don’t ever bring up his family again. Because after he slaps your teeth out, I’ll make you swallow them one by one.”
I spin on my heel, pulse hammering, vision narrowing… and then, I stop. Dead.
Every cell in my body locks.
She’s standing there.
Finley.
The noise around us fades into nothing. I can’t breathe. Relief, fear, awe—they all hit at once, and I’m paralyzed.
She walks toward me, slow, deliberate. Her eyes are wide, dark. Even with her hair piled up in a messy cascade, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Loose jeans, cropped white tee. Simple. Perfect.
“Finley-James,” I whisper when she stops in front of me, that tentative smile tugging at her lips.
Dark circles ring her eyes. She looks older. Exhausted... As though she’s been holding herself together with sheer willpower.
My girl looks like she’s about to break.
I want nothing more than to grab her, to hold her so tight she doesn’t fall apart. But this has to be her move.
With a searching look, she closes the distance and throws her arms around my neck, pulling herself up against me.
“Oh my God, Elijah.” Finley’s sob rakes through both of us as I fold my arms around her, locking her in place, my hands gripping her waist.
I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in until my lungs burn with her fruity scent, and the relief of holding her is bittersweet with the downpour of her tears.
“Sweet, beautiful angel…” I press a kiss to the top of her head, shuffle her higher against me so my lips brush her ear. “I missed you.”
Her arms loosen. Her hands slide up my shoulders, fingers curling at the back of my neck, tugging gently. Her tear-streaked face tilts to mine.
And I’m gone.
I tilt my head, and our lips crash together before breath can get between us. The sound she makes—a sigh from somewhere deep in her chest—melts the tension from her body.
When her lips part, I taste her… coffee, peppermint, salt, longing. Finley fists my hair, pulling until the bite of it shoots sparks through me. I groan into her mouth, deepening the kiss.
Her sweetness floods my veins, cutting through everything else.
I just want her to know.
That she’s still the only girl I love. The only woman I will ever adore.
That no matter what happens, my heart beats in time with hers.
That my love—my need—will never stop growing.
As long as I breathe.
As long as I live.