Chapter 58
EVANGELINE
I’m past the point of crying. My tears and sadness will keep. Right now, I just need a distraction. I texted Mia as I left the paddock, and she convinced me to come to Shelby’s room for Sweatpants and Chill.
Every time I think Luca’s past indiscretions can’t get any worse, I’m hit with a new layer of betrayal.
He got another woman pregnant. While we were dating.
While I was bankrolling his lifestyle and rescheduling lives when he insisted we go out to a club.
While I was doing everything I could to make myself palatable for him.
I used to hope I was good enough for him. I always worried I was too loud, too needy, too high-maintenance, or too much.
It pains me now to think about how willing I was to mold myself into someone entirely new with the hope of pleasing him. The worst part about it all is that it still wasn’t enough.
I knock softly on Shelby’s door, thankful Pavo put her up in the same hotel Granata booked.
The moment Mia greets me at the door, a sob lodges itself into my chest. When she outstretches her arms, I practically collapse into her embrace.
My chest heaves as she holds me, but thankfully, I’m too dazed to actually cry.
When we finally break apart, there’s fury dancing behind her eyes. “Luca?”
Luca, yes. Luca always, unfortunately.
But he’s not the Steele man at the center of my heartbreak. Despite learning that my ex cheated on me for even longer than I realized, creating a child in the process, the real strain on my emotions is rooted in my failed attempt to make amends with Alaric.
I was so sure my plan would work.
Na?vely, I hadn’t even considered another outcome.
I can’t get into details about Alaric. Mia is my best friend, but there’s far too much at stake right now. After the media event, I imagine she suspects there’s something going on, but she understands that it can take a while for me to process things.
Pathetically, I whisper, “Yes. Luca. He got a woman pregnant. Nine months ago.”
Mia emits a feral, high-pitched growl. “What the actual fuck?”
“Whoa, there.”
Heart lurching, I straighten.
Kenji strolls through the door behind me, late as usual, giving me a placating smile, and heads straight for the massive spread of snacks and refreshments on the island.
He scoops up a bag of popcorn and a box of Coco Crunchies, Saint’s favorites. “Did I hear you say Luca got someone pregnant?”
I press my lips together and lock my arms across my chest.
“While you were together?” he clarifies.
My stomach twists into a knot. “Yes. I’d tell you to keep it quiet, but I don’t give a shit about his reputation anymore, so…” I shrug.
“Do you want a hug?” he asks.
I appreciate the question, because no, I don’t want a hug. Having another man’s arms wrapped around me is the last thing I want right now. So I shake my head, and when he nods once and moves on to the drink station, I let out a relieved breath.
“Come on.” Mia takes my hand and leads me to the living area of the suite.
“Finally. Did you bring my Coco Crunchies?” Saint yells, clearly expecting Kenji instead of Mia and me. But when he sees us, he rises to his feet. “Oh. Shit. Had a change of heart, Evan?”
Every eye zeroes in on me, and heat rushes up my neck.
“Wait. Why are you wearing a dress?” he asks, frowning. “That’s not part of the approved attire for—”
“Leave it, Lavoy.” Mia grips my hand harder as we wind through the sea of bodies lounging around the room.
Thankfully, he snaps his mouth shut and drops back to his spot on the floor.
I make a concerted effort to avoid eye contact with any of my friends. I’m too emotionally raw. Even a pitying look or curious stare could send me spiraling. Maybe I shouldn’t have come after all.
Prince rises from one of the overstuffed couches when we get closer.
“Here,” he insists, tipping his head toward the space he just vacated.
Lips pressed together, I shake my head. “You went seventy-eight laps today.”
He mutters, “true,” then adds, “but I could use a stretch.” He lowers himself to the floor, and Mia tugs on my hand again.
I curl up against the armrest as she settles by my side.
When Prince turns around and locks eyes with my best friend, I don’t miss the silent conversation passing between them. I stow the information away so I can ask about it when I have the bandwidth.
Kenji finally appears with snacks in hand, and Saint hits play on the remote.
I chuckle quietly to myself when, on screen, two dogs and a cat struggle to scale a mountain. He would pick Homeward Bound as a secretly soft lover boy cosplaying as an extroverted fuckboy.
“Saint. Put on the captions,” Lincoln reminds him.
I smile at today’s champ, my heart expanding in response to his thoughtfulness, and settle in, hoping like hell this movie can hold my attention.
For the next thirty minutes, no one speaks.
It’s one of the things I love most about the Eleven.
In such a fast-paced, loud, relentless world, we’ve curated a ritual where we can all just be.
I’m safe here, among my friends. I don’t have to worry about how they perceive me or expend loads of energy trying to fit in.
Our little group is a refuge I’ve only ever experienced with one other person.
A loud knock on the door interrupts the quiet that’s settled over us.
Grumbling, Saint pauses the movie. “Who’s missing?”
“No one. The gang’s all here,” Kenji confirms, stealing one of his best friend’s Coco Crunchies when he’s not looking.
Groaning, Shelby hauls herself up from the floor and heads for the door. Saint hops up to follow.
The room remains quiet, even as people stand to stretch or take a bathroom break.
“Yo. Evan,” Saint calls from the door. “It’s for you.”
I sit up like a shot, panic washing over me.
“What do you mean it’s for me?” I holler back. The only person who might even know I’m here is Luca, and there’s no fucking way I can face him again tonight.
Saint appears, eyes wide. “Luca’s dad is here to see you, I guess?”
Mortification rolls through me.
“You mean Alaric Steele, team principal of Granata, is at the door late on a Sunday night?” Ren exchanges a look with Kenji, then homes in on me.
There’s no plausible reason for Alaric to show up like this. His drivers aren’t here. Luca isn’t here either. Even if he is my boss, it’s late, and I’m off the clock.
Everyone’s sitting up now, pretending not to look at me.
The scrutiny is more uncomfortable than it would be if I were being directly perceived.
My hearing goes a bit fuzzy and my stomach rolls. I’m exhausted and overwhelmed; I don’t know how I’ll face the man at the door.
I’m considering begging Mia to intervene and send him away when he rounds the corner, looking disheveled but still so devastatingly handsome.
“Hi, all,” he greets with an awkward wave.
The room buzzes, yet it’s whisper quiet as he scans the familiar faces.
“Do you do this every weekend?” he asks, no doubt trying to make conversation.
When no one responds, he continues his search. Finally, he finds me, and when we lock eyes, my stomach whooshes, the sensation as nauseating as it is hopeful.
“Evangeline. Could I speak to you in private, please?”
Mia hisses between her teeth. “Damn, Ev.”
I stand and shoot her a glare. I may as well get this over with. Prince doesn’t even wait for me to cross the room before he’s reclaimed the seat at Mia’s side.
I carefully traverse the bodies of my friends sprawled around the room, avoiding eye contact once again. I don’t even look at Alaric as I walk past him.
“Don’t wait on me,” I tell Saint, who’s still hovering in the entryway, remote in hand.
Shelby steps into the doorway, stopping me with a questioning look.
“I’m fine.” I’m not, but I don’t want to make this into a bigger deal than it already is, and I don’t need the added pressure of my friends’ opinions right now.
“Follow me,” I tell Alaric as Shelby steps aside and I shuffle into the hall.
Back in the hotel suite, Flynn barks out a laugh. “Why do I feel like we just got busted by someone’s dad?”
Beatrix tells him to shut up. It should make me smile, but I have nothing left tonight.
“How did you know where to find me?” I murmur as I pad down the hall toward my room.
When he doesn’t respond, I peek over my shoulder. He’s following me, tracking my every move with an intensity that nearly bowls me over.
He extends one arm, like he’s going to reach out and steady me. Before he can make contact, I quicken my pace, determined to stay out of reach.
“I followed Kenji up and took a lucky guess,” he finally admits. “Where are we—”
“My room’s down the next corridor,” I explain, forcing myself to continue without glancing back again.