16. Lance
sixteen
Lance
Present
What the fuck am I doing?
I’ve become a full-fledged stalker.
I’m not kidding.
Like a creep in the shadows, I’m standing behind a column by the stadium entrance, lurking, just to catch one last glimpse of Gwen as she flits around the stadium working before I hit the road for a series of games in Colorado.
Even though we came to a truce in the closet, Gwen still doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. She hasn’t asked me to do any PR stuff with her. Nothing.
It’s as if I don’t exist.
The one time I tried talking to her, she blew me off. Made up a meeting and then scurried off like a scared little animal before I could utter anything more than hello. I’m tempted to get her information and hire her to help me with my social media accounts, just so she will talk to me again.
Nico enters the building, and just my luck, I watch Gwen turn the corner and walk right into my buddy. My feet twitch to walk over and insert myself, but I stay planted and watch.
As usual, I can’t tear my eyes off her as she chats with Nico.
I can’t take my eyes off Gwen anytime we are in the same room. She’s got me under her spell, and I’m starting to think it’s hopeless to stay away from her.
Gwen’s demeanor changes when Nico asks her something, and it puts me on edge. I fight the urge to stomp over there and punch him for upsetting her.
Nico says something else, and like a switch, she’s back to her bubbly self. He leans in for a hug, spying me over her shoulder. Gwen chuckles, and a low growl rumbles in my chest as I scowl at him. I’m pathetic. Getting jealous of my friend when he’s in a relationship is absurd.
What is wrong with me?
They exchange a few more words before Gwen walks away and disappears down one of the other corridors, and I can’t help but glare at my friend.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he warns, walking past me.
“What was that about?” I ask, catching up and falling into step beside him.
We head toward the meeting room, where the team is meeting with Coach Anson for his ritual motivational speech.
“Nothing, you fucking lurker. Ask her yourself.”
“Tried. She doesn’t want to talk to me.” I sigh, rubbing my hand over my chin.
“That’s your fault,” he says, rubbing salt in my wounds.
Nico isn’t wrong, but what am I supposed to do? She’s the owner’s daughter. I can’t jeopardize my career.
“I know.” We fall silent as a group of rookies walks past us.
Taking pity on me, Nico says, “She was just telling me about my new contract and intel on Kyle. Are you ever going to tell us what happened?”
I slip my hands into my pockets and slouch. “The less you know …”
“Fair. If you ever want to talk—”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks, man.” What more can I say? Unless Gwen miraculously gets adopted by a new family, I’m fucked.
“Anytime.” He slaps me on the back as we take seats next to the rest of the guys for the team meeting.
The anguished look on Gwen’s face pops back into my head, and for some inexplicable reason, I need to go find her and see if she’s okay.
Before Coach Anson starts his speech, I jump out of my seat.
“What the fuck, Taylor? Where are you going?” Reed hisses.
The first thing that pops into my mind is to hold my stomach and say, “Bathroom.”
“Damn, dude, you need to change your diet.”
Cam looks in my direction with confusion and a hint of curiosity. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Cover for me?”
“Good luck.” Cam smirks as if he knows what I’m about to do. Freaky mind reader.
I rush out of the meeting room and take off in the direction I last saw Gwen. The hall leading to the front office elevators is empty. The elevator dings, and the Evaders’ office manager walks out.
“Hey, Sylvie,” I greet her.
The older woman smiles softly at me as she steps off the elevator. “Hello, Mr. Taylor. What can I help you with?” Sylvie asks. She always calls us players by our last names, and it always reminds me of my mother because it’s something she would do.
“I’m looking for Gwen. Have you seen her upstairs?”
“I’m sorry, I haven’t. Anything I can help you with?”
“No, no. It’s nothing big. I just had a question about my socials. I saw her do something for Cam, and I was thinking about doing it myself.”
“Gwen’s a genius, isn’t she?”
She’s more than that.
“Definitely.”
Sylvie grins at me. “Try one of the conference rooms. She sometimes likes to sit in the quiet while she works.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“Anytime, Mr. Taylor. See you around.” Sylvie shoots me a wave and walks off.
I look around the space with a groan. There is a ridiculous number of small offices and conference rooms.
“Fuck.”
Six conference rooms later, I find Gwen sitting on the floor in the corner of a dark room, with her arms on her knees and her head down, chin on her chest.
“Gwen?” I whisper.
She lifts her head and squints. “Lance?”
The crack in her voice leads me to believe she’s crying. I open the door wider, and the light from the hallway catches the tear tracks on both her cheeks, confirming my suspicion.
My palms curl into fists as my protective instincts kick in. Whoever made her cry is about to get clobbered.
I close the door behind me, not wanting anyone else to see Gwen in this state. She was looking for privacy for a reason. “What are you doing down here?”
“Shouldn’t you be in a meeting with Anson?” Gwen asks, deflecting my question. She sniffles and dabs at her nose with a tissue.
“I asked you first.” I take a second to let my eyes adjust to the dark before crossing the room to where she’s sitting.
“I’m obviously hiding so I can cry. Alone.” She sighs, laying her head against the wall.
“Want to tell me why you’re crying?” I slowly lower myself to the ground and take the spot beside her, close enough for our arms and legs to touch.
“Not really.”
“I’m a good listener.”
“That’s not all you’re good at,” she mumbles under her breath, making my cock twitch in my sweats. I try to push the inappropriate images of me and Gwen out of my head.
“What’s going on?” I ask, trying again to get her to talk.
She looks up at the darkened ceiling. “I just found out my dad won’t promote me because of some dumb clause my grandfather put in his will.
I always knew Ted Sr. was a sexist pig, but my dad too?
It’s just so aggravating, you know? And I can’t do anything about it.
So, I came in here—where no one would find me—to cry. ”
“But I found you.”
“You found me.” Her head rolls to face me, her sad eyes making my chest tight.
I wish I could fix this for her, but I can’t. “I’m sorry.”
Gwen chuckles. “It’s not your fault my father refuses to promote me because I’m an unmarried woman, and being a career woman doesn’t align with our”—she makes air quotes with her fingers—“family’s traditional values.”
My career choices didn’t align with my dad’s traditional values either.
“Wait, you have to be married to work here? Is that even legal?”
I focus on Gwen, ignoring the way my stomach clenches at the memory of my father’s disappointed face when I told him I wasn’t entering the military when I turned eighteen. She’s the one who needs someone to talk to without judgment. Someone on her side.
“Not to work here. Just to hold an executive position. And it only applies to female Montgomery heirs.” She sticks her tongue out, gagging.
“That sounds like bullshit.”
“It’s such bullshit. I can do this job with my damn eyes closed. I did everything I could to prove I’m the right person to take over after Maryse goes on maternity, but my father doesn’t care. At least now I know why he told me I had to start here as a marketing analyst.”
“He was trying to weed you out.”
“Exactly. He should have been honest from the start and told me how he really feels.”
Anger at her father bubbles in my chest. She’s his only daughter, and he doesn’t want to change some antiquated rule so she could work here. It’s fucked up.
“I know Ted is my boss’s boss’s boss, but your dad sounds like a dickhead.”
Gwen barks a laugh. “He is. But the sad part is that he is a wonderful dad. He’s just ...”
“A sexist,” I say, finishing her thought.
“Yup.” She pops her P. “Maybe my father was right?”
“About what?” I incline my head, staring at her silhouette.
“I should have stayed in New York,” she whispers.
“Don’t say that.” My ribs constrict at the thought of her leaving Los Angeles.
“Why not? At least, in New York, I could have an actual career. I’d be appreciated for all my hard work.”
The idea of her being anywhere but here feels like a lead weight in my stomach.
“Don’t make any hasty decisions.” I don’t know what I can do to help Gwen, but I also know I can’t let her leave.
Gwen faces me. “Why not?”
I don’t want you to leave.
The truth is on the tip of my tongue, but I keep it to myself. “Something will work out.”
Another tear falls from the corner of Gwen’s eyes. The room is too dark for me to see the beautiful aqua of her irises, and it kills me.
Instinctively, I reach out and wipe the tears off her cheek with my thumb. She grips my wrist, and the skin-to-skin contact sends a bolt of electricity zipping through me, where it settles in my chest.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“For what?”
“Sitting on the floor and listening to me complain. I know hearing about stubborn traditional fathers isn’t easy for you,” she says, making me chuckle.
The band around my chest tightens at the mention of my father. I push the ache away and focus on the warmth of Gwen’s cheek in my palm and the softness of her skin. “I like sitting on the floor and listening to you complain.”
“You do?” Gwen looks up at me with sad but hopeful eyes.
“I do.”
The temperature in the room ratchets up ten degrees as we stare into each other’s eyes, and my heart hammers, threatening to break through my ribcage.
As if bound by an irresistible magic that keeps pulling us together, our faces slowly inch forward toward one another. My gaze bounces between Gwen’s mesmerizing eyes and her pouty lips.
I know I should get up and walk away, but it’s been months since I tasted her.
Gwen swipes her tongue over her lips, tempting me to close the distance. She closes her eyes, waiting for me to kiss her.
What the hell am I doing?
At the last second, I turn my head and kiss the corner of her mouth. She gasps at the electrical shock that snaps between us on contact.
As much as I want to kiss her, this isn’t the right time. She’s sad and angry, and still trying to get her head around her father’s betrayal.
And if I ever get to kiss Gwen again, it will not be on the dirty floor of some conference room at work.
Cherishing the feel of her delicate face in my hand, I caress my thumb over the apple of her cheek one last time before dropping my hand and putting some much-needed distance between us. I can’t be trusted, and I’m pretty sure Anson is going to hand me my ass for ditching the meeting.
“Another time, little witch.”
I drop a quick kiss on Gwen’s forehead and then, with every bit of strength I have, I tear myself away from her and the spell she has cast over me.