And he does. He’s dressed as a gladiator in a leather-like skirt and a molded copper-colored plastic chest plate with leather cuffs on his wrists and a sword dangling absently from his left hand. His dark, thick hair is pushed back except for a piece that falls across his smooth forehead.
I noticed him almost the second he got to the party, but I made sure to watch from a distance. He was smiling, dancing and laughing and didn’t seem to have a care in the world, which was the polar opposite of how I felt. It made me realize how incredibly different we really were and how doomed we probably were even if we didn’t work for the same team. That made me feel hollow.
I know he knows I’m here now, and I can only imagine that he’ll try to have some awkward conversation with me. Oh God, I have to get out of here. I push my sunglasses up on my head and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I grab my cane and open the door. And then I freeze as I cross the threshold. Elijah is standing there right in front of me in the dark hallway. His hair is still slightly askew and his lips are pink and his eyes are soft and sad. Basically, he’s breathtaking.
He takes a step toward me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“I heard everyone knows about you being a Braddock,” he explains. “And that the guys are giving you a hard time.”
“That’s not your problem,” I say softly, without venom. “I’m not your problem.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he declares suddenly in that voice that is impossibly low and incredibly rough and completely perfect. “I have to. I need to. I can’t.”
I feel a flood of relief at his words. It’s so strong it almost feels euphoric. Without thinking about it I take a step closer to him. My free hand grips the doorframe. His eyes drop from mine and he stares at the sword in his hand. He looks desperate and defeated. This is not the guy I was watching downstairs. Suddenly I realize that must have been an act for his teammates. This Eli doesn’t make me feel hollow, but he does make me ache. My fingers curl around the doorframe and my knuckles hurt with the force of my grip as I try to keep myself from reaching for him.
“I used to be good at things. Everything. Especially women and hockey,” he admits in a soft voice just barely above a whisper. “Now I don’t know which one I’m worse at.”
“You were really good with me,” I reply in a tone equally as soft and modest. “Really, really good.”
His head tilts back up, his chin level and his eyes on me. He blinks. I blink.
Two blinks are all we manage before we both lose all sanity. I don’t know if he kisses me or I kiss him, but we’re kissing. His hands are in my hair and mine are in his and that stupid plastic costume slams into my chest as my ass hits the counter in the bathroom. I push back until his ass hits the wall beside the door. His hands move from my hair to the front of my costume—over my breasts and down my sides and around to my ass, which he grabs and uses to push me into him.
I hate his fucking costume. I can’t touch any skin on his upper body except his arms. I cling to his biceps and let him hook the back of my knee and hitch me up so his hard-on fits solidly into the cleft between my legs. He pushes me back against the counter again. I wrap an arm around his neck and reach between us with the other. I want to get his costume off like it’s the answer to world peace. It is the answer to my peace—or at least it feels that way.
And then a sound fills the air between us. A gasp followed by a giggle. But neither of us is responsible for it. I recoil from Eli like he’s made of acid and spin to face the door we never closed. Thankfully it’s just Sadie and Winnie. My eyes dart past them, but I don’t see anyone else.
They’ve got their arms looped together and Sadie grins wickedly. “This must be the goalie.”
“If he is so off-limits, then why are you so on top of him?”
I run my hands through my hair and glare at both of them before turning to Eli. He’s wiping a hand across his mouth and looking frantic. He steps around me, careful not to touch any part of me, and slips by my sisters. “Sadie and Winnie, I presume? Hi. I have to go.”
He blurts it all out in a tight but friendly tone at warp speed and then he’s down the stairs before I can blink. Winnie frowns. “He’s not one for pleasantries.”
“He’s a Casco,” Sadie explains. “It’s like in their genetic code to be aloof and abrupt.”
“You know he’s Levi’s brother?” I hiss in shock.
Sadie nods calmly and steps into the bathroom to check out her reflection. “The minute you mentioned a goalie I did my research.”
“You cyberstalked him,” I reply flatly.
Sadie just shrugs. Winnie’s eyes are so wide I’m scared they might fall out of her head. “Oh my God, how did we not know Levi had such a fine piece of ass for a brother? Well, I mean, Dixie knew, because she’s banging him, but—”
I yank Winnie into the bathroom and close the door, shutting out the possibility of anyone overhearing us, I hope. I point my finger at my oldest sister the way Mom used to do when she was pissed. “Do not say that out loud ever again. Anywhere. For any reason. If people find out we hooked up, I lose my job and his struggling career gets even harder. Do you understand?”
Winnie looks offended. “Okay. Relax. I would never do anything to hurt you.”
She’s right, and I’m an ass. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just…this is a nightmare.”
Sadie leans in and hugs me. “Dixie, we’ve got your back. Always.”
“I’m glad you interrupted. We slipped, and I don’t even know why,” I explain and rest my head on her shoulder. “Last time we talked we were barely civil and then this. And nothing’s changed. We can’t be together right now.”
“Your HR department is dumb if they’re willing to lose you over a relationship,” Winnie says.
