Chapter 19
MATEO
“I’m sorry you guys lost the game yesterday,” Emmie said as she stood at the island, chopping basil for dinner.
“We had to get one loss under our belt before the season started,” I said with a shrug, stirring cream into the sauce pan on the stove. A loss stung no matter the time of season. After all, losing was part of the game.
“Is it true Jennings is leaving for another team?”
I glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow, a little thrown that she knew that.
“Yes, I know football and what's going on,” Emmie shot back. “Just because I’m a figure skater doesn’t mean I don’t know other sports.”
“Oh, I know you know other sports, I’m just impressed you’ve heard the rumors.” I leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. “Jennings has been pretty tight-lipped about it.”
“You think he’ll really leave?”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. He hates being on the team and only playing a short amount of time per game. Not sure if he’ll be a starter anywhere else, but there are teams that need a quarterback.”
“I take it you guys don’t get along.” Emmie turned around to face me, resting her back on the island counter to mirror my pose.
“We are…cordial.” It was a lie, but at least I was doing what I needed to on my end. Even when he made digs at me after the game yesterday, like I was the one who caused us to lose. I wasn’t the one that gave up three touchdowns and fumbled the ball multiple times.
“Yeah, that’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard in my life,” Emmie scoffed. “When someone says they’re cordial, it means they hate each other.”
“I’ve tried to be his friend, but he has a chip on his shoulder that he won’t let go of.
” I couldn’t truly fault him for being upset at losing his starting position.
Working your whole life to be a professional football player wasn’t easy, so it must have been hard having someone new come in and take that away from you.
That didn’t excuse being a dick to everyone, though.
“Want me to fuck him up?” She punched her fist into her palm.
I smiled before schooling my features. “I would appreciate that. I can have you come to the locker room with me as my bodyguard.”
Her own lips twitched as she fought to keep a straight face. “I’ll be the best bodyguard you’ve ever seen.”
“I have no doubt about that.” For such a small thing, she could be a little scary. “How about you? Must have an enemy or two in the figure skating world.”
“There is one actually. You’d be surprised at how cutthroat it is.”
“Oh, spill the tea.” I grinned at her expression. “What? Just cause I’m a guy, I can’t get the gossip? I want to know which bitch we need to hate.”
Emmie shook her head. “You and Erin would be menaces together.”
“That’s because no one touches my girl.” Those words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. I could have taken it back or said something else to gloss over them, but I stopped myself before I could do either.
I wanted Emmie to know I liked her. That this wasn’t just some fling—or at least I hoped it wasn’t. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t trying to run away from what was standing in front of me.
Emmie’s cheeks turned the cutest shade of red. My words lingered in the space between us. She looked as though she didn’t quite know what to do with them.
“The sauce is going to burn.” She gestured to the stove. I gave her a smile, hoping she could see I wasn’t upset at her changing the subject before I turned around to continue making dinner for us.
Like other things, I wasn’t about to press her to react or say something. I’d let her work out what my words meant and go from there.
“Can you grab the pasta from the cabinet over there?” I asked, gesturing my head toward said cabinet.
When she came back with spaghetti noodles, I did what I did best—broke the tension with humor.
“So, tell me the figure skating tea.”
For the next thirty minutes, the two of us worked on dinner while Emmie filled me in. I learned about someone named Keira who tripped her right before the Olympics. I asked for the girl's address for research purposes, but Emmie just shook her head and promised that Erin already got her revenge.
She told me all about who was secretly screwing who, who her biggest competitor was, and which coach was known to cut corners with their athletes.
By the time we sat down to eat our parmesan fettuccine, I learned that the figure skating world was even more intense than I ever thought possible.
“So, you have regionals coming up, and then what's next? Tryouts for the Olympics?” I asked between bites of pasta.
“Regionals first, then we do nationals, then worlds, which determines who goes to the Olympics,” Emmie explained. “There are a few other competitions throughout the season, but it's not do or die to be in those. It just gives more experience on the ice, but I won’t be doing them.”
“Okay, so basically like the playoffs before the final game,” I concluded. Emmie hummed as she took a bite of her food. “Makes sense. So only three competitions to go. That’s doable, but the one we need to focus on the most is worlds.”
“We?” Emmie raised her eyebrow at me.
“Yeah, we. Clearly you haven’t been paying attention.” I heaved a dramatic sigh. “I’m competitive as fuck. Just because I’m not the one skating doesn’t mean I don’t want you to win. We’re a team, so that means we need to crush it at worlds.”
“I don’t see you doing triple axels and lutz jumps.”
“Nope, but I’ll be there on the sidelines as your cheerleader. I look great in a uniform.” I grinned.
“And how do you know you look good in it?” Emmie questioned.
“Lost a bet to the girls.” I shrugged. It wasn't the first time I embarrassed myself by losing a bet in our group chat.
“Girls?” Her tone was curious, but there was a hint of jealousy in it.
“My brother's wives,” I elaborated. “Josie and Lydia. The other two are Tasha and Mila. They’re married to Trevor and Bryton, who are basically my brothers, too.”
“Oh.”
I fought a smile off my face. Seeing her a bit jealous of the girls was adorable.
“All of us have a group chat together, but we had a separate one years ago when we made bets to see who would get together first—Landon and Lydia or Tasha and Trevor.”
Emmie froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. “You placed bets on your friends?”
I smirked. “We did. It was the Bang Bet Club.”
“And you had a group name?”
“Yep. My mom even got in on it.”
Emmie burst out laughing. “Your family is crazy, aren’t they?”
“We are.” But in the best way possible. “Ironically, that wasn’t the bet I lost that required me to dress up as a cheerleader.”
“Oh?” She leaned forward, an eager shine to her eyes. It was embarrassing telling the girl you liked that you had to dress up in such a way, but if it made her look at me like that, I’d gladly humiliate myself.
“We had this running bet about who’d get pregnant first—Josie or Lydia.
Completely behind their backs, of course.
But the longer the timeline stretched, the more ridiculous the wagers became.
” I huffed a laugh, shaking my head. “Tasha and Mila somehow talked me into betting that I’d wear a uniform to the next hockey game if Lydia didn’t announce she was pregnant within two weeks.
Turns out, they already knew she was. I never stood a chance. ”
Emmie stared at me wide-eyed for a whole five seconds before she lost it. She fell back into her seat, practically wheezing as she laughed. Her hands clenched the sides of the table as her body shook.
“Not that funny,” I said, taking a sip of my water as she continued across from me. Even though she was laughing at my expense, I didn’t mind. Not when her happiness filled my chest with something close to adoration.
“So, you sat in the stands at a hockey game in a cheer uniform.” Emmie barely got the words out, she was giggling so hard. “What I’d pay to see that.”
“I bet Josie has a picture somewhere,” I muttered. As a photographer, she always had her camera, so no matter what happened, she usually had a picture of it.
“Did you freeze your ass off?” She wiped a tear off her cheek as she calmed down enough to talk.
I gave her a look that screamed what do you think. “Pretty sure my leg hair grew a good two inches from the cold.”
Emmie giggled again, eyes sparkling in amusement. “I just know you made the Jumbotron.”
“They showed me every ten minutes.” By the third quarter, I decided to go with it and have fun. If my face was going to be on the big screen, I might as well have given everyone a show. And show I did. It was hilarious.
“You didn’t get kicked out?”
“After the second warning, the girls finally gave me one of the blankets they had so I could cover up,” I laughed.
“Wow. Just wow.”
“I’m a wild card, what can I say?” I shrugged. I wasn’t someone who was embarrassed easily. If something happened, I just rolled with it and trusted it would sort itself out.
“Never a dull moment with you, is there?” There wasn’t an ounce of judgement in her voice, only quiet amusement.
“Is that a bad thing?” I asked.
“No, definitely not. I need someone fun in my life.”
I didn’t look away when our eyes met.
“Good,” I said softly. “Because I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
“This view is incredible,” Emmie breathed out as she stared through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The city and skyline were spread out as far as the eye could see.
Dinner was all cleaned up, and our earlier teasing banter was long gone.
Now, there was a heated tension that seemed to fill the apartment.
I rested my hip against the arm of the couch and took in the way the lamp’s glow highlighted her face. She was breathtaking, standing there with the low lights showcasing her silhouette against the dark city.
For the first time, I wondered if this feeling—this overwhelming, all-consuming urge to mold my life with hers—was something my brothers felt when they met their wives. How the hell did I make it through life before her?