21. Eloise
21
ELOISE
“ O h my God, it’s so loud in here that my body feels like it’s vibrating.”
“That’s because it is!” I yell over the crowd.
“Tell me again why we’re not in the box,” Dash yells as the Kings skate onto the ice.
“Because I want a front-row seat when my man sees me wearing his jersey and no hat for the first time since high school.”
Last night at dinner, I told him I’d step into the light for him. I’ve been coming to his games for the past few weeks, but I’ve been coming incognito, wearing a hat and no team gear, never sitting in the same spot. The week following our lunch at the Bronson Estate, the press cornered Cal about the picture of him and Blair on the airplane, and he told them the photo was taken out of context and that he was indeed seeing someone, but that it was not Blair Wyndham. I wish I could have seen Blair’s face when that broadcast aired. I bet she stomped her foot like a petulant child before screaming. She’s been surprisingly quiet, almost too quiet. If it were not for Cal’s PI following her, I’d be worried. I’m not convinced she isn’t still scheming, but at least I know where she is. Like now, for example, she’s in the skybox, another reason there was no way in hell I was using my pass to get in. Fuck that. I don’t want any drama tonight. I’m here to support Cal and tell the world he’s mine. Ever since his “I’m seeing someone” sound bite aired, the paparazzi have been hunting for her.
“How long do you think it will take him to spot you?”
“More than ten, less than twenty since the lights are going crazy.”
“That fast, huh?”
“He doesn’t need to see me. He’ll feel me.” It’s how he was always able to find me when I thought I was getting away with giving him the slip at school. It’s been there since we met, this inexplicable force, the type you only read about in fairy tales, writing our destiny and sealing our fates. I may not be sure what tomorrow holds, but I’m sure I was always meant to be his.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dash practically spits his beer when he sees the moment Cal finds me amongst the crowd. He’s wearing his helmet, and from this distance, I can barely see his eyes, and the lighting is totally working against me. Damn. “What’s with the look? Why do you look like you just drank flat beer?”
“I wanted to see his face when he saw me wearing his jersey. This is a big deal, or at least for me it is.” I wave my hand up at the lights. “Now I can’t even tell if he noticed.”
“Oh, he noticed,” Dash says as he nods to the ice. I turn back just in time to see Cal skating up to the glass.
I can’t help the goofy smile that takes over my face. He reaches the glass and puts his glove up, and I close the distance, taking the two steps it requires to meet him there and do the same. The stadium gets impossibly louder as the realization of what he’s doing and who I am to him sets in. Out of my peripheral, I can see camera lights flashing, and the crowd roars excitedly. They’re getting their story, but I only care about the one I see reflected in the golden-brown orbs before me. The flecks of gold in his gaze catch in the light, and I see his elation. Last night, I told him I loved him, but now I’m telling the world.
“You realize Adler’s at home, and he probably just witnessed every bit of that, right?”
My eyebrows tug together. Dash knows we’ve been in contact with Adler and he knows why I’m here and what Cal and I are trying to accomplish.
He sees my confusion. “You just announced to the world that you’re his girl, and you’re sitting in the first row at second round finals. The kid is going to be jealous. That’s his dad out there. He’s going to want to be here for him too.”
“Yeah, I know. I wanted to do this first. I’m going to bring him up after the gala this weekend. This could be Cal’s only shot getting this close to a cup. I want Adler to experience it, and I know Cal does, too.”
This game has been a nail-biter. The Kings have only maintained a two-goal lead for the first two periods, with both teams playing their hearts out. Two goals are better than none, but we’re four and two. We score, and then they score. Everyone wants to go into the best of seven with the first win. Cal has looked like a different man out on the ice tonight. I know I’m partial, but he’s playing some of the best hockey of his career.
“Oh shit,” Dash says at the same time I clench my fists and we both shoot up out of our seats to get a better look at Cal.
The other team’s defensemen just slammed him hard into the glass. It’s not the hit that has my heart beating out of sync but rather how he took it. He just got blindsided. Cal drops to his knees, and the glass and ice between us feel like a thousand miles. I wish I could go to him, but then his right arm comes up and his glove forms an O before he slowly gets back onto his feet.
“That’s going to piss him off,” Dash adds as Cal skates over to the bench.
He doesn’t look at me, but I can see from his expression that he’s livid. The guy who hit him may as well not come back because I know the second Cal’s back out there, he’s going straight for him. He enters the bench. Coach Beck says something, and Cal motions out to the ice.
“There’re only two minutes left. That guy isn’t coming out of the penalty box this game, but you know Cal isn’t going to forget.”
“I know…” I say anxiously, squeezing my hands together at my front until finally, his eyes flash over to mine.
His irritation shrinks for a second when he sees the worry still etched on my face and he shoots me another O and mouths, “Give me a K.” I take a deep breath, so deep I question if I’d stopped breathing the second I saw him take the hit and make the letter K with my fingers. My man is out there playing his heart out. This is what he’s done his whole life. There are days when his anger is mine, and the hits he takes roll off me the same way they do him, and then there are times like now when it feels like I could lose what’s become my other half.
It feels like I blink, and he’s back on the ice for another face-off. The guy who illegally blindsided him is still in the penalty box, but I can tell from Cal’s stance he’s ready to send a message. Cal gets the puck and passes it to Roe, who takes his shot. The Stars defenseman blocks the hit and shoots it back toward the center line, but Austin manages to keep the puck in play and feathers it blindly back to Callum, a move that shocks the hell out of me. Austin is a glory chaser, and I know he wants to be responsible for getting points on the board in a playoff game, but apparently, he knows when to put his team over himself because Cal is open and in scoring position and takes his shot.
“That’s in!” I scream as the buzzer sounds, and the stadium goes wild. Dash and I hug and jump up and down. The energy of the fans is electric. Our bodies are buzzing, and all the anxiety I felt moments ago is washed away and replaced with pure elation as the team skates onto the ice to celebrate their first win against the Stars in the second round.
“Where do we meet Cal?” Dash yells over the roar of the crowd.
I’m just about to answer when Cal breaks from his team as they celebrate their win. They start skating toward the bench to exit the ice and head to the locker rooms when Cal veers right and comes around the partitions, causing a scene. Fans slap him on the back and try to get autographs, but once they see his destination is me, they start moving out of his way, eager to get a shot of him with his girl. His eyes finally clash with mine, and he purses his lips in an attempt to hold back the huge smile that can’t be contained as I close the distance and jump into his arms. He’s sweaty and musty, but his hug is everything. I wrap my legs around him, not wanting to let go but knowing I need to. The people got their pictures, and we need to get out of the spotlight before we get swarmed.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I say as he holds me tight. “It’s going to be a nightmare getting out of here.”
“I couldn’t help it. I had an important question to ask you that couldn’t wait.”
I pull back and look at him quizzically. “And what’s that?”
“Whose name is that on your jersey?”
I roll my eyes at his antics. “Balfour.”
“God, I love that,” he says, his smile growing impossibly wider.
“Your name?” I tease.
“No, you saying our name.”
Now I’m the one smiling like a fool. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You haven’t proposed yet.”
“Nah, proposing is overrated. It gives you the option to say no, and you, Eloise Grey, do not get to say no. My name was always meant to be yours.”
He pecks me on the lips, and the crowd goes nuts.
“Okay, Romeo,” Dash says behind us. “I think you staked your claim. Everyone knows who she belongs to. Now let’s keep it moving.”
Cal sets me back on my feet. “Mine.” He smacks my ass before grabbing my hand and tucking me behind his back, walking us toward the player tunnel that leads to the locker room. As we make our way through the throng of fans with flashing lights, whatever fear I thought I had of this moment fades. I was already strong on my own, but I feel invincible with him by my side. I might be his, but that means he’s mine, and what is mine is mine. I won’t lose him again.
“ H ey, pull over here,” Dash says, gripping Cal’s shoulder from the back seat. “This is the place. Are you sure you guys don’t want to come in? Moon, Roe, and a few of the others are inside. No Austin.”
I look at the packed bar.
“There’s a band tonight, too.”
“I’m not really dressed for going out,” comes out even though I fit in perfectly. Everyone from the stadium has flooded the streets, celebrating the Kings’ win tonight, but I can’t decide if I want to go home and have my man all to myself or go inside the bar.
“We’re coming,” Cal says, deciding for me as he pulls into a front-row spot where another car is vacating. “My girl is wearing my jersey, and I’m not done making sure the world sees it.”
I shake my head with a smile. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Shocking. Did you expect anything less?” Dash comments from the back seat before opening my door and hopping out.
He opens my door for me, and Cal says, “That’s my job.”
“Yeah, well, I’m only ensuring you do it.”
Cal scowls and exits, and Dash shrugs as I raise a brow. “What? I’m only trying to get you two out of the truck so you don’t spend the next half hour making out instead of coming inside.”
Cal opens the door wider and offers me his hand. “Come on. We can make out inside.”
I can’t help but laugh as the three of us head inside. The bar is a sea of red and black. We turn some heads as we make our way through the bodies, following Dash toward the back of the bar. With so many people wearing Kings jerseys, you wouldn’t know that one of the actual players is standing beside you unless you were actively looking for them. It doesn’t hurt that almost everyone is half-inebriated already. Finally, we get a little breathing room as Dash leads us to a roped-off VIP area to the right of the stage.
“Balfour!” Moon hollers as we approach. “We didn’t think you’d actually make it.” There’s a pretty brunette sitting between him and Roe. I don’t recall either of them mentioning a girlfriend the last time we all hung out, but that doesn’t mean that’s not exactly who she is.
“I don’t know what you mean. You guys act like I never come out.”
“You don’t come out with her,” Roe yells over the noise.
“That’s because he doesn’t want someone to steal his girl.” Dash squeezes his shoulder. “I’m going to grab a drink from the bar. Do you guys want anything?”
“Get me an IPA,” Cal orders as Moon and Roe hold up their almost empty glasses of beer.
“I’ll come with you. I don’t know what I want.”
Cal squeezes my hand and furrows his brow.
“I’ll be right back. It’s better I go anyway.” There’s not a lot of security here. Most people are staying behind the thick red velvet ropes, but with the number of people in attendance tonight, it would be easy for them to quickly become an afterthought. I’ve been out of the spotlight long enough my face isn’t as easily recognized. When my words aren’t enough for him to release me, I stand on my tippytoes and gently kiss his lips. “If you want me to take your name, you should probably first trust me to wear it.”
He clutches my chin. “I do trust you. It’s the world I don’t trust and with good reason. I like pretty things with smart mouths, and a wise man knows her worth and protects it, not because she’s weak, but because she’s important.”
I kiss his mouth once more. “I love you…” I brush his cheek with my thumb. “But I’m just going to the bar. Relax with the guys and let your woman get you a beer.”
He bites his pouty bottom lip and kisses my forehead. “Hurry up, woman.”
I shake my head and follow after Dash. As we squeeze into the corner of the bar and wait for the bartender to take our order, I notice a pretty redhead across the bar checking out Dash, and I nudge his arm. “ONS… five o’clock.”
He looks at me, bewildered. “What the hell did you just say?”
“There’s a redhead checking you out.” I nod in her direction.
He does a quick check. “What does ONS stand for?”
“One-night stand… duh.”
“Who said I’m interested in a one-night stand?”
“You’re not? Aren’t all guys interested in a one-night stand?”
He looks down the bar. “Maybe not me. Besides, I have someone.”
My eyes practically bug out of my head. “You do?”
“Look, it’s not what you think. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Just then, the bartender arrives. “What will it be?”
“Can I have four IPAs? Whatever is on tap will do and…” He turns to me.
“Make it five, please.” I’m not typically a beer drinker, but nothing really sounds good, and I haven’t eaten since lunch, so a beer feels like the wiser choice. I bump his elbow. “You realize I’m not going to let that go. Explain.”
He picks up one of the cardboard coasters and spins it between his fingers. “I should have said that differently. I don’t have someone I’m talking to, but there’s someone out there, and that’s why no one has stuck. They’re not her.”
Well, now I’m hella curious. “Have I met her?” He turns his face away from me, and I know that’s to avoid my studying gaze. “I have met her, haven’t I? Dash, come on?—”
He holds up his hand. “Eloise, please…” His eyes flick back to mine, and I don’t like what I see there. “I shouldn’t have said anything, but now you know. Can we leave it at that?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “It’s left,” I add, hating the tortured look behind his generally playful eyes. The bartender brings back the beers, and I lay cash on the bar before Dash can pull out his wallet. “First round’s on me. Let’s go.”
I’m just putting the glasses down on the table at our booth when a hand skims over my shoulder, taking me by surprise, and I straighten. “Eloise, is that you?” a familiar voice I can’t place asks.
“Oh my God, Jagger,” I say, rushing out as I go in for a hug. “How have you been?”
Jagger was in most of my art classes in high school. If he could take nothing but visual and performing arts classes, he would have. The entire school knew who he was. He was hard to miss, standing out in any crowd with his unearthly pale green eyes, dark skin, and long black hair. He didn’t look like the typical preppy, spoiled rich kid who attended our private school, but that was part of his appeal. Jagger didn’t fit in because he wasn’t supposed to. He was writing his story, leaving his mark so that he’d be the one people talked about in their stories.
I spot a guitar strap wrapped around his front. “Wait, are you playing tonight?” I point to the stage.
His beautiful green eyes smile with his mouth. “Yeah, I am.” His smile fades slightly at the same time an arm wraps around my shoulder. I don’t have to look to know that Cal is giving him a warning look.
“Jagger, it’s been a while.” Cal holds out his hand to shake Jagger’s as he tucks me into his side, ensuring he knows who I’m with.
Without missing a beat, Jagger takes it. “Congrats on the win tonight. I was heading to the stage when Eloise’s bright blond hair caught my eye, and I thought I’d stop by and say hi.” He nods to the stage. “Wanna check it out?”
I look up at Cal and he says, “Where you go, I go.”
I turn to Jagger. “Yes, please.” I clap my hands in excitement. I’m not the least bit musically inclined. I can’t sing for shit, but I love to listen. “How crazy is running into you here of all places?” I say as we follow Jagger behind the stage.
“That’s what I thought when I saw you. I guess it’s a small world, after all.”
“Is this your first time playing here?”
He smiles. “You don’t know what band I’m part of, do you?”
I roll my lips, not wanting to say I have no idea, but I’m surprised he’s only playing in bars. I heard Jagger play back in high school. The guy always had a guitar strapped to his back and would play in the courtyard at lunch. He was really good even then.
“Do you play in a lot of bars?” I try to change the subject.
“Blondie, he’s the lead singer of Breaking Dawn,” Cal says, squeezing my hip.
“Holy shit, how did I not know that? I listen to your song ‘Stargazing’ all the time.” I really need to watch TV every now and again. “Wait, why are you playing in this bar?”
“We’re in town for a concert. One of my bandmates knows the owner of this bar, and it’s been a while since we played in a venue like this. We decided to do a pop-up show. Small venues feed the soul. They allow you to connect with the audience more intimately.”
“Jagger, it’s time. We’re going to do a quick sound check,” a guy I assume is his drummer says, walking up behind us carrying sticks.
“It was good running into you guys. Feel free to watch from back here if you want.” Jagger gives Cal a pound hug and then turns to me. “I’d give you another hug, but my face is too pretty to risk this guy’s fist.” I laugh, and he shoots me a wink before heading up the steps to the stage.
“You’re a barbarian,” I scold him playfully.
He spins me in his arms. “I thought you liked my savage behavior.” He slowly backs me toward the wall. “I have your nail marks scarred onto my skin to prove it.” Before I can smart back, his lips cover mine and he pins me against the wall. His tongue dives deep as his hands grip my ass hard, and any qualms I had about his barbaric, territorial behavior are dismantled. I love it when he loses control. It’s raw, untamed passion that says fuck the world, you’re all I see, all I want. “I need you,” he says as his lips blaze a trail down my neck, and he pumps his hard length against my pussy.
“Mmm… take me home,” I say, digging my fingers into his muscular back.
He nips my lobe. “No, I need you now. I’ve had a semi all night, watching you parade around in my jersey.” His lips find my collarbone. “I’ve wanted to fuck you hard for teasing me.”
“Cal, we’re in public. Someone could see us. This isn’t an empty stadium. This place is packed.”
“We’re backstage.” He sets me down, walks me toward the stage, and pulls back the curtain just enough so I can see. “Everyone’s out there.” He smacks my ass and pulls my hair over my shoulder, exposing my neck before dragging his tongue up to my ear. “No one will hear you screaming my name as I shove my fat cock in your tight little pussy.” His hands drift down my stomach, and heat pools low in my belly. Fuck. He knows I’m a sucker for unhinged dirty talk and a quickie. It’s why when his hands flick over the button of my jeans, he meets zero resistance. “Put your hands on the stage, blondie. You’re in trouble.”
I do as instructed, eager for what he’s about to give me. He pushes my jeans down, exposing my bare ass. “In trouble for what?”
“For thinking you get to wear my name and not take it as yours.”
“What? When did I say I wouldn’t take it?” I lick my lips and try to recall the words I gave him at the stadium. I know I said no such thing. I wouldn’t say no if he asked me to marry him, but he hasn’t asked.
His big hands slide over my cheeks, and he squeezes them before spreading them wide and sliding his tip through my lips. “Always ready…” he hisses as he slides his length between my folds. “Before you got drinks earlier, you said, if you want me to take your last name…” He brings his tip to my entrance. “I told you there is no if! You’re mine,” he says as he slams in hard and the air whooshes out of my lungs.
“Fuck,” I choke out from the intrusion that stretches me and hurts before it aches in the best of ways.
“Balfour.” Slam. “Is.” Slam. “Our.” Slam. “Name.” Slam.
“Okay…” I pant breathlessly.
“Okay, what?” he grunts.
“Balfour.” I turn my chin to my shoulder, ensuring he hears my words. “Is our name.”
“Fuck yeah, it is.” His hands dig into my hips, and I grip the stage harder, knowing what’s about to come.
He’s losing himself. I just told him exactly what he’s been waiting for, a spoken confirmation that I’m all in and willing to give myself to him in every way. I thought I’d made it clear through all the whispered sweet nothings we’ve shared in the countless hours we’ve spent in bed, but he wants it all. And now he knows I do, too. He’s going hard at a piston’s pace, but I can tell, like me, he’s on the cusp. I reach back the way I always do in this position, needing to feel connected to him on a deeper level, and the second my fingers graze his heated flesh, my orgasm takes root. The base of the drums and the guitar’s treble as Jagger hits his high note on the bridge have my legs stiffening. I can feel my spine dip as my body loses itself to the ecstasy Cal’s ringing from it. His thrusts hit out of sync as he holds himself deep, spilling every drop inside of me as my walls spasm around his length. My arms go slack, and he wraps his around my waist, holding my weight.
“I fucking love you, Eloise.” He kisses the side of my damp forehead. “Do you hear me? It’s you and me.”
I reach my hand back and run it through his hair. “You and me,” I repeat, breathless and exhausted. “Take me home.”