Chapter 19
Lex
Eli finds me in the common room on the third floor five hours later. I’ve been staring at the black screen of the TV for way too long, trying to make all the thoughts in my head fit together correctly.
Trying to find some way that Eli and I can move on from this, and I think I’ve come up with a few good ideas.
I’m not as smart as Eli. I’m not delusional enough to think I can ever come up with better solutions to practical problems, but the fact is that when it comes to emotions, I might be better equipped than he is.
Last night I didn’t act like it.
I think it’s because of what Lottie said, because I have always thought of Eli as perfect, and that’s unfair in so many ways.
Now, though, with a clearer head and a better understanding of what I actually want to build with Eli, I think I’m ready to fight for it. Not fight with Eli, but for him. For us.
It’s late enough that we don’t have as much time as I’d like to talk this out.
Our parents will be back soon and will expect us to have dinner with them.
I don’t particularly want them to know about what Eli did or about our fight, so I’m hoping things can go back to something resembling normal between us before that.
Dad went to work with Mom as it turns out, and I really want to be able to enjoy it when they tell us whatever ridiculous shit happened during his visit to the Lyla Beauty offices.
Eli stops in the doorway, looking painfully unsure and unfairly adorable.
I shift to sit on my side so I can look right at him and rest my arm on the back of the couch invitingly.
“Did you sleep well?”
He nods. “I did, honestly. No clue how, but my brain was pretty fried, so you were right sending me to bed.”
I cringe at the wording.
“I’m sorry about that too. I didn’t mean to treat you like a kid, I don’t want to. I only want—”
He waves that away.
“No, you were right, which is why I didn’t fight you on it. I guess you could see it as treating me like a kid, but I think of it as you caring.” He lets out a big breath and walks over slowly. “The fact that you still care is enough for me, or at least it was enough after lunch.”
I shake my head at his slight dramatics.
“Of course I care, angel.”
A beautiful blush appears on his cheeks as he smiles at that and finally sits. Not as close as I suspect we both want, but close enough.
“I love it every time you call me that.”
“I know,” I whisper, then suck in a fortifying breath and brace myself.
“I want to hear you out, Eli. But first just let me say that something like this cannot happen again.” It comes out with a finality that leaves no room for argument, and I don’t regret it.
“You can’t manipulate the world around me without at least letting me know first, and if you’re going to mess with my career, I need you to believe—to trust me enough to know that my opinion simply matters more there. ”
He sits up and nods vehemently.
“It does. Always.”
His quick agreement is enough to have me sighing in relief.
He closes his eyes, and clearly takes his time to choose his next words carefully—I appreciate that.
“I know now that you were right, Lex.” When he opens his eyes and looks right at me, those blue orbs hit me right in the chest, even while I’m surprised that that’s the first thing he says.
“I didn’t understand, and I can’t be sure that I’ll ever understand the hockey world as you do, but I spent a few hours last night researching. ”
A smile tugs on my cheek as Lottie’s words echo in my mind, then I reach over and grab his hand, finally feeling like the contact will soothe instead of sting.
“Of course you did, angel.”
He smiles before launching into his recounting.
“I learned a lot, but mostly I learned how much weight you already have on your shoulders. I thought I knew before but now I think I really understand. And I can tell you that I already have a few ideas of how I can help there. Not only on social media, or like you said, manipulating some perceptions, but also just everyday stuff. I want to learn more so you can come to me whenever a journalist is too much of an asshole or if things with your new team become too much. I want to tell you my ideas so we can talk them through, but I promise I won’t do anything unless you know and have okayed it. ”
I sigh again and sink further into the cushions, but I also bring his hand with me and raise it to kiss his knuckles.
“That’s the most Eli thing ever,” I murmur, but my adoration for him comes through loud and clear. There’s no way for me to hide it even if I wanted to. Even when I’m still reeling from all the changes to my reality in the last ten days.
His face falls suddenly and I see the regret painted all over every beautiful inch of it. “I just wanted to help.” He lowers his eyes to our intertwined fingers.
“I know, angel. Good thing is now you know a better way to help.”
That coaxes a small smile from him even as he sniffles softly. The redness in his eyes does nothing to stop me from being floored by his beauty.
I lean in. The sudden need to taste that smile, to own it, is something I can’t and frankly don’t want to resist.
When he parts his lips invitingly, I realize that now that I know he’s not perfect, I somehow love him more than I did yesterday.
January 12
Early Tuesday morning, Austin and I pick up Patrick on the curb of the Certon Hotel where he’ll be staying for a week. He’s here to help me with the transition to the Demons, yeah, but he also has a bunch of other athletes he represents who play for teams in the tri-state area.
Since it’s still too early to formally hire any of the bodyguards Troy and Austin recommended to Michael—who I gave my full permission to last night to pick someone for me—Eli decided to go to work from his father’s offices today so Troy can keep an eye on them both.
That means Mom still has her two bodyguards and Dad with her—which is needed since she’s not only a supermodel known worldwide worth millions, but also the wife of a guy who regularly pisses off dictators.
Patrick climbs in quickly and nods Austin’s way when he’s buckled in.
“Hi.” He sits sideways to look directly at me. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.” I nod. “Pain’s almost gone now, though I still look like shit.” I motion unnecessarily to my mostly purple face.
“You’ll be back to being pretty as ever in no time,” he teases, and it’s weird how it doesn’t sting at all coming from him—the reminder of my pretty face—because he doesn’t use it as a weapon. To him it’s just something about my appearance, not something that affects my skills or my fame.
“You’re just jealous,” I snarl back and smirk at his bark of laughter.
“Speaking of, around twenty million brands want to sign you.”
I throw my head back against the headrest and groan. There’s no use in fighting the inevitable, so I take a moment to really think about what I want.
“Only one new one this summer,” I declare. “If there’s still so much interest next season, then we can talk.”
Patrick shakes his head. “You don’t even know what brands reached out—”
I wave that away.
“You know me, you know what I like to represent. You pick and let me know.”
“Fuck, kid.” I look back at him when I can’t identify the tone.
He’s grimacing, looking almost pained.
“What?”
“You trust me too much.”
I roll my eyes at him. “You’ve never led me astray, you’re always looking out for me, and you know my family yet you haven’t tried to put any of us in an asylum. Why wouldn’t I trust you?”
He tilts his head, contemplating. “That’s a low bar.”
“And,” I add with feeling. “If you did wrong by me, then your wife would divorce you and take all your money.”
His face falls while I just keep smirking.
“Cindy loves me the best,” I throw back in triumph.
“You’re a brat,” he deadpans.
“So which one are you choosing? I know you’ve already picked your favorite.”
“You’re a New Yorker now, so we’re going with style, but I’m actually between Montblanc and Patek Philippe.”
That surprises me.
“You really haven’t chosen one?”
He shrugs, turns to look out the window.
“I think Montblanc could be better long term, they have a history of keeping their partners for longer, but Patek is offering more money upfront.”
I think about it for a few minutes while we’re stuck in downtown traffic.
“Hell, say yes to both if they can coordinate shoots in the city. But you better buy Cindy something fucking blinding with your ten percent,” I warn jokingly.
He smiles indulgently.
“You got it. Now, tell me how you’re doing with the trade. I’m surprised Ruko isn’t here with you.”
“Oh, Mom’s making him go to work with her again so he’ll actually learn how to use all the lotions and serums and stuff she’s always sending him.”
He snorts and shakes his head.
“I’d pay good money to see that.”
“They’re ridiculous,” I say with a fondness I can’t hide. “And I think Dad doesn’t want to put any kind of pressure on me the way he thinks he did when I joined the Empire.”
Patrick only hums, clearly waiting for me to get to it.
I sigh, I know I have to talk about this.
I can’t tell him about the biggest thing on my mind—I’m still scared of what the consequences of Eli and Tucker’s actions will be—though maybe Patrick is the one person I should tell about this.
He works for me, he makes sure my career thrives and that anything that threatens that career can be taken care of.
I won’t tell him, though, because I refuse to have anyone else know. There’s no way I could look him in the eye again if he knew I was traded because my boyfriend made a deal with the owner’s son.
But I can at least admit to my other fears.
“I’m nervous.” I shift on my seat, letting that simple fact settle.
When it does, it feels easier to say the rest. “I have no idea what it’s going to be like to play with these guys, what they all expect from me.
I know how management is, I’m not na?ve there.
The big question mark is the players, the vibes in the locker room. ”
“That’s understandable.”