Chapter Fourteen
The night I caught Ellie coming into the house in her Boots attire, we forged a secret…and a bond.
I’ve kept my promise to not tell a soul that she works at Boots. I have no intention of divulging that bit of info to anyone, certainly not her brother. Though I do worry she’ll be found out at some point.
Still, it won’t be because of me.
I’m proving to her that she can trust me.
Even though I remained nonchalant that night in the entry hall, inside, a spike of jealousy reared its ugly head. I can’t help but hate that other guys get to see her dressed so fucking sexy.
The bikini she wore out at the pool covered less, but I was the only one who got to enjoy that.
So yeah, clearly sometimes I’m a possessive asshole.
And the girl isn’t even mine.
I remind myself of that all the time, which is getting harder and harder to do. It seems that, as time wears on, I want her to be mine.
It started with our secret and the bond it created. Oh hell, that’s not true. It started before that. But my desire for her has grown stronger.
And it’s no longer about pure lust.
When Ellie came to the first game I got her a ticket for, she sat in the front row along the glass. I scored a beautiful goal right in front of her, and the way she jumped up and cheered, I felt like we’d just won the fucking Stanley Cup.
It made my heart soar that much.
Our eyes met as I headed to the bench to fist-bump my teammates.
I’ll never forget that moment with her. It was brief but held so much emotion.
After that game, Ellie came down to the locker room. Not when we were undressing. She stopped in while the press reporters were still there. She claimed she was dropping in to say hi to Arden, but the funny thing was, she spent most of her time talking with me and Finn.
I was glad he was there. It was our chance to finally see if she flirted with him like she does with me.
She didn’t.
She just talked with Finn the way you’d speak with someone you’d just met.
And when no one was looking, she bumped my hip with hers, winked at me, and said, “Great goal, by the way.”
I replied with a soft and heartfelt “Thanks, Ellie.”
She left shortly after that.
And guess what? Someone had caught our interaction after all. Damn Finn.
Smirking, he leaned in and said to me in a low, mock-falsetto tone, “Great goal, by the way, you big, dreamy man.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” I hissed. “She did not say all that.”
“She may as well have.” He snorted. “I saw the way she was looking at you. And, dude…”
He trailed off, and that was the end of that conversation.
But I knew he was right.
It made me feel good, though.
But what was even more reassuring was that she hadn’t flirted with Finn.
So it’s not just the way she is.
It’s the way she is with me.
You got that right!
Ellie has come to a few more games since then. I always try to get her a seat along the glass. She likes it, and that way we can make eye contact and sneak in a few sly smiles.
Also, she’s up close and personal when I score a goal or get an assist. She still goes wild, too, cheering for me like I just conquered the world.
I love that.
Talk about motivating.
I guess that’s why selfish me likes it best when she comes to the games by herself. A couple of times she’s brought her friend Sammie. We had to play it cool then.
Oh, and one time, she came to a game with Willow. That really sucked, because they sat up in a luxury box. I couldn’t see Ellie at all.
But I knew she was there.
And really, that’s all that mattered.
More time passes, and October turns to November.
It feels like we finally have our early crazy lust-filled attraction under control.
Or maybe we just hide it better.
I know I do.
For as much as I’ve been on the road for away games with the team, Ellie and I still spend a good deal of time together.
I can say that we’ve truly become friends.
But in some ways, that’s worse. My longing for her continues to grow into something more, something deeper. It’s not just my body that wants her, anymore. My mind does too.
And dare I say my heart?
Fuck, I’m falling for her, aren’t I?
Or maybe I’ve already fell.
All I know is that I don’t even care anymore about that stupid bet.
I don’t think Finn does either. He never mentions it. He hasn’t since Ellie came to the locker room and he saw us interacting.
He knows this isn’t a game anymore.
This shit is for real.
Today I finally have a chance to find out how he feels. We have a home game tonight, but right now, I’m meeting Finn for lunch.
In fact, he just pulled into the parking lot of the Italian restaurant we chose so we can carb-load for the game.
I’m already parked, so I get out of my SUV and walk over to meet Finn at his Escalade.
We go in together, and I notice he doesn’t say one word about how he should be driving my Range Rover any day now.
I don’t mention it, either.
But, after we’re seated in a booth, I decide to bring up Ellie. We haven’t had the chance to talk much about her, as it seems our teammates are always around, including Arden.
This is the first time in a while that it’s been just the two of us.
We place our orders, and then I lean back and just bluntly state, “Hey, for the record, you haven’t asked in a while, but I still haven’t slept with Ellie.”
Finn is taking a drink of water and almost chokes.
Clearing his throat and setting his glass down on the table, he says, “Wow, that just came out of nowhere. To be honest, I haven’t even thought about that bet lately.” He raises a brow. “Is it still on?”
I rub my forehead as I murmur softly, “I don’t know.”
“Why?” he asks, smirking. “Did something go down with you guys and I’ve actually already won?”
I’m not sure if he’s serious or being a smartass, so I snap, “No, nothing has happened. Don’t get all excited. The Rover is still mine.”
Finn waves his hand. “Ah, dude, I’m just giving you a hard time. Really, though, fuck that bet. It was dumb to begin with.”
“Are you serious?” I ask.
“For sure, I am. I can see something is going on with you and Ellie, something more than the standard ‘we just want to fuck each other’s brains out.’”
“Well, there is still that,” I admit quietly.
“Yeah, but there’s more,” he states correctly. “And our friendship is far important than a fucking bet. So, talk to me, man.”
When you take away all of the joking and jabbing at each other, Finn really is my friend.
He’s a good guy.
I certainly can’t talk to Arden about this, but I can with him.
So I will.
Peering over at Finn from across the table, I say, “I think I’m fucked, man.”
He knows right away. “Shit, you’ve fallen for her, haven’t you?”
I nod. “I have.”
“So, how does she feel about you?”
I shrug. “I can’t be certain, ’cause it’s not like we’ve discussed it, but I think she feels the same way. I get that vibe from her, you know? We definitely have something building.”
“I feel you.” His brow creasing, he asks, “What’s holding you back from taking things to the next level? Is it Arden?”
I let out a sigh and, leaning back even farther, I cross my arms. “Yeah, there’s that, of course. I mean, I still don’t want to be the guy who said he could be trusted who beds the man’s sister. But also, like I said, I’m not 100 percent sure on how she feels. I don’t even know what her plans for the future are. Hell”—I throw my hands up in the air—“for all I know, she could be going back to Chicago in January.”
“Dude…” Finn blows out a breath. “Hasn’t she said anything to you about what she’s planning to do?”
I shake my head. “Not one word.”
“Have you asked her straight up what her plans are?”
Sheepishly, I admit, “Um, not really.”
“Okay.” He blows out a breath. “So that’s a hard no.”
“It is,” I confess. “But in my defense, the subject never comes up.”
“Well, it needs to,” Finn says. “You have to talk to her. At least about what she plans to do next. I mean, it’s not like she’s going to stay at your house forever.”
I feel a pang in my heart, and I murmur softly, “What if I want her to? Would that be so awful?”
Our food arrives then, so the conversation ends.
But not before I hear Finn mutter under his breath, “Fuck, you’ve got it bad.”
He’s right about that, and he’s also correct that I need to talk to Ellie.
Before I continue to allow myself to fall for her—not that I could stop even if I wanted to—I have to know she’s not leaving.
At the very least, if she is, I need to back way the fuck off.
Spending any time with her at all will have to stop.