Chapter 2 - Emilia
Emilia
Prom:
You’ll see…
What the heck does he mean by that? I don’t know, but something tells me I’m going to like it.
Honestly, I can’t believe he’s doing this for me.
We barely speak anymore and when we share ice time, he seems to go out of his way to avoid me.
Things were so different when we were younger, before I hit puberty and started lusting after him.
Maybe that’s what caused the tension between us—and believe me, I feel his tension.
The second I walked into my living room and saw him in his suit, looking like every woman’s dream—which naturally he is—I could feel him pull back. Which is why I wanted to call this whole thing off. The truth is, he doesn’t like me the way I like him, which makes being around him hard.
When he called me Millie, it was a reminder that he’d always see me as his best friend’s kid sister. He started calling me that one day when I was young, and I’d come home from skating practice in pig tails. That’s how he thinks of me, and always will.
Yet here I am, lusting after my brother’s best friend. God, could I be more of a cliché?
But my brother convinced me to go to prom, otherwise I might regret it for the rest of my life, and the icing on the cake was to walk in there with an NHL superstar on my arm.
Maybe that was the selling point, or maybe I’m simply a masochist. How else can you describe a person who’s willing to spend time with a man they’re crazy about, a man who will never reciprocate those feelings?
I sink back into my seat and glance out the window. I am looking forward to seeing my friends, and dancing. I spend so much time at the rink practicing that I don’t have a lot of spare time, so at the end of the day I guess I am glad Ryder talked me into this.
I give a sigh and catching me by surprise, Gabe reaches across the seat and takes my hand in his. “It’s going to be okay.”
The warmth of his palm burns through my veins and settles deep between my legs. God, what would it be like to have this man’s hands on other parts of my body? It’s not the first time that thought has jumped into my brain, and it certainly won’t be the last.
“Yeah,” is all I can manage to push out as my throat grows tight.
He lets go of my hand and we fall silent as he drives to the museum. Cars fill the lot and many of my classmates are hanging out, not to mention sneaking drinks before heading inside. Gabe eases his car into a spot, and I unbuckle.
“Stay put,” he orders in a voice that does the craziest things to the needy juncture between my legs.
All eyes turn to him, and a hush falls over the crowd as he gets out, circles the car, and opens the door for me. Jeez, is he putting on a show for my friends, or is he a gentleman with all his dates? Not that this is a real date.
He holds his hand out and I take it, allowing him to pull me from the car. He closes the door behind me, and slides a strong arm around my waist, tugging me tight against his rock-hard body.
“You good?”
I eye him and work to find my voice as his fingers press into my hip. “I’m good.”
“Emilia,” Cassie calls out, and I turn to see her wave us over.
“That’s Cassie,” I tell Gabe. “We don’t have to go say hi if—”
“Oh, we’re going to say hi.” His hold tightens on me, and I’m shocked at the possessive way he’s holding me. If I didn’t know he was putting on a show for my friends, I’d think he enjoyed touching me, pressing me against his body. But this is all a show, right?
We reach my crowd of friends, and all eyes turn to Gabe, as he stands well above me, exuding hotness and confidence. “Introduce me to your friends, Millie.”
“Right,” I begin and do the introductions. Just then, Jenna Garrity, a frenemy of mine, comes up to us, pushing her way into our circle.
“Gabe,” she coos as she runs her fingers through her long blonde hair. “I thought that was you.” She puts her hand on his chest. “What on earth are you doing here?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. The man has his arm around my waist. Why is she asking such a ridiculous question when the answer is right in front of her face?
She presses her other hand to her chest, and turns her attention to me, gazing at me with sympathetic eyes.
“Oh I get it. You’re taking your friend’s sister to the prom because Braxton…
well, we all know what Braxton did.” She blinks at Gabe.
“That’s so sweet of you, Gabe, and how lucky for you, Emilia, that your brother’s friend stepped in. ”
Ah, okay. I guess now I know why she asked a ridiculous question. It gave her the chance to belittle me. Dammit, why did I ever agree to this? Everything about this does make me look like a charity case. I should go home.
“Are you kidding me?” Gabe shoots back and pulls me impossibly closer.
“Braxton did me a favor.” Jenny’s hand falls from his chest as he turns to me and lightly touches my chin with the tip of his finger.
He brings my eyes to his as he tips my face up.
A second later, his soft lips land on mine.
He takes my hand and puts it on his chest, like he needs my touch and I revel in the way his strong heart beats against my palm.
He angles his body and pushes his pelvis against me.
Holy crap, is this really happening? Collective gasps can be heard around me as he devours me, kissing me like it’s his damn job.
But wait, this is about making Braxton see what he’s missing out on. So yeah, this is his job.
After a long, mind-numbing moment, he breaks the kiss and I’m freaking breathless, when his gaze lingers a moment too long. My God, I’m sure he could beat George Clooney out of an Oscar.
“What the hell,” Jenna murmurs. “You’re with her?”
“Yeah, I am. So, you see, when I found out she wasn’t with Braxton anymore, I made my move.” He pushes my hair back. “Believe me, I’m the lucky one here.”
Jenna huffs out something discernable, and pushes through my friends, disappearing into the crowd.
I catch the way my friends are grinning. “I think I need a smoke after that,” Aislinn announces as she fans her face.
We all laugh. “You don’t smoke,” I remind her.
“I think I might have to start.” She comes to my other side, and slides her arm into mine, tugging me away from Gabe. As we start walking toward the doors, I glance over my shoulder, but Gabe, knowing exactly what to do, is following. He’s no insecure high school boy, that’s for sure.
He moves to my side as we enter the museum and make our way to the room reserved for our prom. The lights are dim, but with the way he stands out, he’s still drawing attention, from students and teachers alike.
“Punch?” he asks me.
“Sure.” I start toward the table and he stops me, dipping his head to whisper in my ear. God, everything in the way he does that sends shivers through my body.
“I’ll get it.”
His hand lingers on my arm, and the way he keeps touching me messes with my brain and body. His gaze holds mine for a second and when my synapses stop firing, leaving me senseless, I can’t help but wonder if he might actually be into me.
Do I dare hope?
I stare at him, unable to tear my gaze away as he weaves his way through the crowd and stops at the drink table.
He grabs two cups, and his eyes meet mine as he reaches for the ladle.
My heart jumps into my throat as he fills our glasses.
Jeremy, one of the guys from the hockey team, stops to talk to him, and Gabe nods his head toward me.
Jeremy follows his gaze and his eyes go wide when they land on me.
Gabe comes back, and I work to keep my hands from shaking as I take a drink. I note the way he’s glancing around. “You can’t give Braxton a black eye, Gabe.”
“I mean, I can. I just shouldn’t.” He produces that devilish dimple as he grins at me, and it’s all I can do to fill my lungs. If my brother knew how I felt about his best friend, no way would he have put us together like this. Not that I really think anything is going to happen.
The music changes, and he takes my cup and sets it on a table. He comes back to me, slides his hand around my waist and drags me to him. I inhale his scent and fill my lungs with it. What is it about his smell that makes me weak in the knees?
He dips his head, his mouth near my ear as we dance, and before he shifts his body, I’m pretty damn sure I felt something poke into my stomach.
Okay, maybe something is going to happen.
My heart races at the idea of that. I know I don’t look anything like the women I’ve seen him with over the years, the bunnies who throw themselves at him, but there’s no denying what I felt between his legs.
He inches back and I meet his gaze. “Not so bad having your brother’s friend here?”
“Not so bad at all.” I glance around. “This is actually nice. I’m so busy with skating, it’s become my life. It’s nice being here…with you,” I add bravely, just to see how he reacts to that.
“I can’t wait to see you perform in the Olympics, Millie.”
Okay, no comment on the ‘with you’ part. My heart sinks. Am I reading too much into this? “I didn’t know you were going to watch.”
“Hey.” He brushes my hair from my face, his gaze soft as it moves over my face. “Of course I’m going to watch. I’d never miss it.”
I probably am reading too much into this, but when he looks at me like that…holy God. “I sometimes watch your games,” I admit. A half lie. I watch all of his games.
“Do you root for me?”
“Of course I do. We used to be close, remember?”
“How could I forget? We had a lot of fun when we were kids.”
Yeah, it was fun until I started liking him, and then he went off to Boston and acted like I didn’t exist, because he didn’t feel the same way about me. “We did,” I agree, my voice light but laced with an edge of old hurt.
His gaze drifts away for a moment, lost in the past. “You loved playing games,” he murmurs, the faintest smile tugging at his lips.
“I did,” I nod, my heart stirring at the memory. “You did too.”