Chapter 38 Eva
EVA
I took a deep breath, and then another, watching the fog from my breath dissipate as I gathered my courage. My phone buzzed in my pocket, the third time in as many minutes. I ignored it.
Tristan had invited me to the hockey house to watch a pro game with him and the guys, like everything was normal, like my entire life didn’t balance on a knife’s edge. My hand hovered over the doorbell.
“Oh my god, Eva!” Katie nearly knocked me off the step, her arms loaded with grocery bags and a case of cider. She was grinning, genuinely happy to see me, and the tension in my chest loosened a hair.
“You’re back!” She didn’t wait for an answer, just shouldered the door open. “Hey, everyone! Look who I found!”
The weight of everyone’s gazes hit me at once, and I wanted to dissolve into nothing, to curl up and hide.
Haruto bounded out of the living room and enveloped me in a hug that lifted me off my feet. “How are you doing?” he asked, holding me at arm’s length, his brown eyes searching my face.
“Same as I was at practice yesterday? And workouts this morning?” I said, teasing him.
A throat cleared above us. Tristan stood at the top of the stairs, a towel in one hand, wiping his freshly shaved face. Our eyes met and held.
“Eva,” he murmured.
My heart kicked against my ribs—the irregular thump-pause-thump that reminded me it wasn’t quite as reliable as it should be.
“He shaved for you,” Haruto teased, gently elbowing me, careful to nudge my arm and not my side. “Must be a hot date.”
“Just the game,” I whispered.
Cole appeared in the kitchen doorway. All the air left my lungs in a rush that had nothing to do with my fucked-up heart valve and everything to do with the way he looked at me.
“Hi,” he said quietly.
“Hi.”
We stared at each other across the entryway. He looked good—so fucking good.
“Take her coat, you lovesick idiot,” Haruto teased Cole.
Cole’s fingers skimmed my neck and arms as he helped me out of the coat, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. He hung it carefully in the closet then reached for my hand before yanking his back.
He was nervous. The realization sent a thrill of power through me.
A moment later, Tristan joined us and gently steered me to the living room with his arm around my shoulders.
My phone buzzed again, and I tensed.
“You okay?” Tristan’s voice was low, just for me.
I nodded. We had a plan, I reminded myself.
Rami was already sprawled in the loveseat with a sweet-looking blonde woman whose name he probably couldn’t remember. One day, he and Katie were going to stop hurting each other and admit that hate and love were two sides of the same coin.
“I’m on snacks,” Haruto said, taking the bags from Katie. “Eva, what do you want?”
“Junk food,” I said.
“Coming up!”
Tristan sat down on the sofa and tugged on my hand, waiting for me to join him.
“This is awkward,” I murmured. “Pretending like nothing happened.”
His jaw tightened. “Yep.” Then, he pulled me down beside him, adjusting until my cheek rested against his chest, his heart beat steady and strong beneath my ear.
“Can you see the TV like this?”
I snorted. “It’s a little weird, cuddling so close in public after everything.”
“You’re mine again.” His voice was rough. “And I’m so fucking proud to be yours.”
Cole walked in just in time to hear it, and he flinched. Fuck. I hated the pain that flashed through his eyes and hated the smile he used to hide it.
“Cole—” I started.
“I’ll get you something to eat.” He was already backing toward the kitchen, putting distance between us.
“Wait.”
He froze.
My mouth was dry. God, this was so scary, because if I gave Cole an inch, he would take a fucking mile. Tristan’s arm tightened around my shoulders, but he remained silent, letting me make this choice.
And yet.
“Join us?” The words came out shakier than I intended.
Cole stared at me like I’d spoken in tongues. “Join you?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Eva, you don’t have to—”
“I’m asking you to sit with us, Cole. Are you going to make me beg?”
The fake smile disappeared, replaced by a raw vulnerability he usually hid behind swagger and sharpness. And then it turned into a real smirk. “If the shoe fits—”
Tristan threw a pillow at him, and he laughed, the sound so fucking genuine, I wanted to hug him.
“Let me get you something to eat first?”
I nodded, and the smile that spread across his face was real this time—like the sun breaking through a storm. He disappeared into the kitchen, and Tristan relaxed against me.
“Thank you,” Tristan murmured into my hair.
I laughed shortly. “Don’t thank me yet. This could still end in disaster.”
My phone buzzed again and again.
“Do you want to get that?” Tristan asked.
I shook my head. “I know what it is.”
“Carter,” he muttered against my hair.
Cole returned with a plate loaded with pretzels, cheese, grapes, and the low-sodium crackers I was supposed to be eating instead of the good stuff.
I couldn’t quite hate the warmth in my chest from the fact that he’d remembered, or my surprise that someone had stocked their kitchen with them.
He picked up my feet and settled them in his lap before draping a blanket over my legs.
Tristan maneuvered me until he was lounging in the corner, and I was on my side, with the plate sitting on his thick thighs.
I didn’t miss a single look the team gave us, but I was exactly where I wanted to be. Cole gently massaged my calves and my feet, and I had to hold in a groan at how good it felt.
Tristan fed me a grape, then a piece of cheese. His fingers lingered on my lips.
“Watch the game, asshole,” I muttered without heat.
He grinned at me, sweet and charming. “I’m watching something better, kitten.”
“Smooth,” Cole snarked, but his hands never stopped their gentle massage of my feet.
For the first time in days, my heart beat steady. Regular.
I lasted maybe ten minutes before exhaustion pulled me under.
“Princess,” Cole murmured, “it’s the second intermission.”
I blinked myself awake to find Tristan smiling down at me, his fingers still tracing patterns on my arm. “Sleep well?”
I’d drooled on his shirt. “Shit, sorry—”
“Don’t care.” He kissed my forehead. “You needed it.”
I sat up, disengaging my calves from Cole’s grip and bringing my legs down in front of me so I could stretch.
“I’ll be back,” I promised my men, and stood, stretching and working the kinks out from dozing off in their laps.
If I’d known I were going to conk out, I might have insisted on a more comfortable position.
I made it to the kitchen before checking my messages.
The Devil
Tick tock.
Don’t ignore me again.
I was still staring at my phone when Haruto’s voice made me jump.
“What’re you doing, Eva?” He was at the counter, chopping vegetables with single-minded intensity.
“Checking my messages.”
“And how’s that going?”
“Fine?”
Chop chop chop.
“Haruto—”
“We care about you, Eva. The whole fucking team cares. You’re a friend, and I hate to see you hurt. I hate to see them hurting too.”
I didn’t know how to play this, wasn’t ready to admit I’d forgiven them, even though it was plain as day to everyone who saw it.
“Were you with Coach too?” he asked. I swallowed hard, unable to tell if his question was accusatory or concerned. “Are you with Coach? Or I guess we just call him Alek now that he’s quit,” he corrected himself, his tone bitter.
“Haruto, look at me.”
He cocked one eyebrow, as if he were ready to challenge whatever I had to say.
“Do I look unhappy?”
“No,” he muttered.
“Do I look like I’m barely holding it together?”
He laughed. “Eva, you’ve had your shit together since the first time I met you.”
If only he knew how close I was to falling apart.
“Then why are you interrogating me?”
“Because—” He set the knife down carefully. “I’m worried about you. We all are. And with Coach resigning, there’s more going on here than you’re sharing. There has to be.”
I pursed my lips, trying to figure out how to have this conversation without admitting something I didn’t want to. I rubbed my chest absentmindedly. “You know I have a heart condition, right?” I said softly.
“Yeah, we all found out after the accident.”
“Please believe me when I tell you that my heart has never been steadier than the last few weeks.”
Haruto continued chopping matchsticks of vegetables with single-minded intensity. “It’s not right,” he said quietly. “They’re taking advantage of you.”
Ah, so this wasn’t just about Alek. “Tristan and Cole?” I asked. “No, they’re not.” I took a deep breath. “You come from a family who could afford your hockey habit, right?”
He nodded.
“I come from the kind of poverty that can’t get help because the small jobs my dad got were off the books and illegal. Do you know who bought me a winter coat this year?”
Haruto remained silent.
“Cole Carter. Do you know who makes sure I have something to eat for breakfast every day that fits into my cardiac diet and doesn’t fill me with horror from its blandness?
Tristan Baptiste. And do you know who interceded with the school to get me yet another break when I missed class this semester because of my heart? ”
“Coach,” Haruto muttered.
“That’s right.”
“Even if he caused the accident in the first place.”
I couldn’t disagree with that.
Haruto continued to chop vegetables. “There’s no way to say this without sounding like an asshole, but those guys should be doing all that shit for you even if you’re not fucking them. You’re not with them for that, right? Because if you need help, we got you—the whole team does.”
Gratitude spilled out of my heart and through my chest like warm honey, sweet and sticky. “I’m not,” I said. “And I know.”
“You know I’m always here if you need a friend, don’t you?” Haruto turned abruptly so he was facing me. When he realized he was brandishing the knife, he smiled sheepishly and set it down on the counter. “Or someone to help you bury a body.”
Hot tears pricked at my eyes. “That means more than you know.”
He studied me for a long moment. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”
It wasn’t a question.
My phone buzzed again in my pocket. I didn’t look at it. “Has Jed Carter ever approached you about throwing games?”
Haruto blinked slowly before his lips curved up into a smile. “Looking for evidence?”
“Yes,” I said flatly. “Preferably the kind I can turn over to someone who’ll actually do something about it. He doesn’t put anything in writing.”
“You’re investigating him,” Haruto murmured.
I shrugged.
“Rami!” he shouted.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Rami trotted into the kitchen, annoyed, hands laden with paper plates.
“Do you remember when Jed Carter tried to get you to throw the game against the Horde last year?”
Rami’s expression turned serious. “Yeah, I refused, and he threatened to have me kicked off the team and my sister kicked off the women’s team if I didn’t cooperate.
” He looked at me. “So my dad donated a bazillion dollars to the women’s hockey program, and suddenly, AD Hall couldn’t touch either of us. ”
“AD Hall knows about this?”
“Eva, are you digging up dirt on Jed Carter?” Rami’s voice was sharp with worry.
I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Yes,” I admitted.
“You’re gonna turn him over to the cops?”
“To the bratva,” Tristan said from the doorway. I hadn’t heard him come in. He leaned against the frame, muscles pushing against his t-shirt in a way that should have been illegal.
Rami’s eyebrows rose. “It’s like that, is it?” he asked, looking at Tristan contemplatively.
Tristan swallowed and nodded.
“Lemme see what I can do,” Rami offered.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, the words feeling inadequate. “Thank you both, for being friends.”
Rami ruffled my hair as he walked past. “What’s a little blackmail between friends?”
I froze.
He stopped mid-step, looked down at me, and then at Tristan, who’d also gone still. “Oh shit,” Rami said. “For real for real?”
I couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up—slightly hysterical, but no less joyful. “For real for real.”
He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Is that why you’re so serious about taking out Jed Carter?”
I swallowed hard, not quite ready to spill all my secrets.
Haruto clapped a hand on Tristan's shoulder. “We’ll see if we can get any information for you.”