by Aven Ellis
“I’m so going to kill you,” I declare.
Aubrey laughs wickedly. “Just making sure you keep your underwear on tonight. Did you wear a pair with Minions on them so you aren’t tempted? Hello Kitty? Something equally off-putting? Although I doubt anything would put Landy off you, my friend.”
Now I know my face is flaming.
“Shut up,” I say, laughing.
Aubrey leads me down a long corridor, and it’s cold and very stark. All concrete, with no décor or anything. The WAGS lounge must be like the basement den off the side of the laundry room, I muse.
“When we turn this corner, we’ll find the WAGS lounge,” Aubrey says softly, so only I can hear her. “And that’s where the guys will meet us.”
I nod.
We turn the corner, and I see signs designating several rooms. There’s the ‘Media Lounge’ for the press, then the ‘Buffaloes Family Lounge’ to designate the area for the WAGS.
I see several players walking around, all dressed sharply in suits. I excitedly look for Landon, and then I spot him.
I stop dead in my tracks. He’s oh-so-sexy. He’s wearing a dark-gray three-piece suit, white dress shirt, a vest, and his black cashmere overcoat. His hair is tousled and he’s smoking hot.
I’m about to go up and greet him when I hear a woman say his name.
“Landy,” the voice calls out.
I watch as Landon turns behind him. A gorgeous woman approaches him, one with glossy, chestnut hair that is stunning even in this crappy tunnel lighting. She’s tall and willowy, and she’s wearing a pair of super skinny leather jeans, fantastic over-the-knee leather boots-shit—are those Louboutins?—and a V-neck sweater that is tight and shows off her ample breasts.
She flashes him a brilliant smile and moves to hug him. And as he hugs her back, my stomach completely bottoms out. My heart is pounding, but not in the delicious, excited way it was before. I stand frozen, wondering if this is what being with Landon will always be like, wondering if these girls are part of his past? Or, I realize with a heavy heart, last night? Or is she a woman he has lined up for tomorrow?
Panic starts to swirl in my chest. This is bad. I can’t do this. Not after what happened with Tr—
“Kayla Paine,” Aubrey says, her eyes locked straight on her.
I blink. “What?”
I watch as Landy and Kayla step out of their hug. Kayla has her hand on his arm, holding it as she talks to him.
Aubrey leans in toward me, so she can speak privately. “She’s dating the goalie,” she explains.
“Mountain Man?” I ask, incredulous.
Mountain Man is the nickname we’ve given Ben Reese, the goalie for the Buffaloes. He’s gruff. In his media interviews, he bluntly answers the question and nothing more and he never seems joyful, even off the ice. Like in charity events I’ve seen him pose for pics, but there’s no expression on his face. Zero. Even with cute children or puppies. It’s blank. I know Beckett hates public stuff, but even he can smile for a picture. But not Mountain Man. I really think he’d be happier living back in a cabin in remote Canada, where he’s from, than be in the spotlight for the Chicago Buffaloes.
But what makes him Mountain Man is his incredibly long, straggly, black beard. Gah, it’s horrible. He’s nobody I would find attractive, looks-wise or in personality.
So the fact that the gorgeous Kayla Paine is his girlfriend is mystifying.
And if she is dating Mountain Man, why is her hand still on Landon’s arm? Kayla is smiling up at him, nodding to whatever Landon is saying. She seems very comfortable with him.
Too comfortable.
“Trouble.”
I wrinkle my nose as another warning blares in my head. This is stupid. Kayla and Landon might be old friends for all I know. I shake the thought from my head and move forward, toward Landon.
Suddenly Landon turns his head and sees me. And as soon as he does, his face lights up with a huge smile.
The tension leaves my body, and the butterflies resume their dance in my stomach. That smile tells me everything I need to know right now.
Landon is happy to see me, just as I am to see him.
“Oh, I think I see Beckett,” Aubrey says, breaking through my thoughts. “I’ll talk to you later, Livy.”
“Okay,” I say, my gaze still on Landon. “Good night.”
Then Aubrey leaves me to meet Beckett.
Landon has all my attention now. He immediately steps away from Kayla and moves toward me.
“Livy,” he says, his eyes shining at me. “Good to see you.”
Then, to my surprise, he embraces me in a hug.
As I feel his arms move around me, I’m acutely aware of so many things: how warm his body feels against mine. That his chest is solid and muscular underneath the fabric of his vest and dress shirt. And that oh-so-sensual leather and vanilla cologne of his deliciously wraps around me.
But most of all, this feels good. Right. I immediately know these arms are the right place for me to be.
Landon steps back and smiles at me. “Hi.”
I see that he has stitches over his left eyebrow.
“Is your head okay?” I ask, concerned.
“This?” Landon asks, briefly putting his fingertips near the cut. “This is nothing.”
I resist the urge to touch his face in a soothing way and refocus on the conversation.
“I’m sorry about the game.”
Landon shakes his head. “I hate losing. Hate it.”
“I can imagine,” I say softly. Landon never quit out there. He kept fighting and fighting, and I understand now this is his personality. When it’s something that means something to him, he fights for it. Like Beckett. Like stopping those shots. He’s relentless when it has meaning.
“But you get mad and move forward. You leave the past behind and go to the next game,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.
His words hit me. You leave the past behind.
Landon is right. Clean slate. Right here, right now, to see where we go.
“Landy, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Kayla says as she approaches Landon. “But again, I wanted to thank you for your advice. You’re so sweet, always here to talk to me. I appreciate it more than you know.”
“Sure, no problem,” Landon says casually, nodding at her. “Hey, Kayla, this is Livy Adams. Livy, this is Kayla Paine.”
I study her carefully. Her face is bright and smiling at me, but I see something different in her eyes. They aren’t light and happy like when she was looking at Landon. The gaze has shifted to dark and assessing. Fixed on me like a cat locks in on prey.
Trouble, I think. Kayla is trouble.
Suddenly her gaze abruptly changes, and her smile grows wider. “Hello, Livy, it’s so nice to meet you,” she says sweetly. “Are you a friend of Landy’s?”
I’m about to answer when Landon speaks first.
“She’s my date tonight,” he says.
My heart leaps from Landon’s words. He’s letting it be known that I’m his date. This is huge.
Kayla’s eyes narrow for a brief moment. Then they return to wide-eyed and bright-looking.
“Oh, great, well, I won’t keep you then,” Kayla says. “I’m going to wait in the lounge for Ben. My poor bear. He’s had a rough go of it lately.”
“Night, Kayla,” Landon says. “Hang in there.”
“Nice meeting you, Livy,” Kayla says. “Hopefully I’ll see you again!”
Hopefully. As if she expects me to go out with Landon once and never come back.
And maybe in the past that was common with the girls Landon took out.
But this isn’t the past.
It’s my now.
“Likewise,” I lie, smiling back
at her.
Kayla turns and goes into the WAGS lounge, leaving me with Landon.
Landon smiles at me as we begin walking. “So what are you up for tonight?”
Nerves shoot through me. I know Landon is big on the Chicago social scene, usually being snapped at bars and clubs after games.
And while I like going out for drinks with friends, that’s not what I want for this evening.
“I would like to do more of what we did last night,” I say. “Hang out at your place.”
“Yeah?” Landon asks, leading me down a different corridor.
“Yeah,” I say. “Don’t get me wrong, I like going out, but it’s hard to get to really know someone by shouting questions at them in a bar.”
We enter the area where the players park their cars, and I’m faced with rows of chic European sports cars, high-priced SUVs and luxury sedans.
I realize I’m entering a different world, the one that Landon lives in. It’s a world of money. Celebrity. Tables with bottle service at chic clubs. An endless supply of beautiful women for hook ups. Of people saying yes at every turn.
Which is very different from my world of living at home with my parents. Of struggling to get enough art classes booked and jewelry orders strung together to hopefully scrape up enough money to rent a crappy efficiency apartment one day. Of going on job interviews and being told it was a close call, but they hired the other candidate.
Landon stops walking. “So what exactly does ‘really know me’ mean?”
I pause for a moment. I gaze up into his eyes and see a questioning expression in them. Wondering where I’m going with this and exactly how much I want from him.
I realize this is the moment where we take a tentative step together, to see if our worlds can fit, or if Landon will take a step back.
“This is a part of who I am,” I say quietly. “I want to know more about you. I want to hear more about your past. Your family. Your disappointments. Your dreams. I know this is a lot to ask, but this is important to me. I want to know you. Not Landy. I need to know Landon.”
My heart pounds nervously. Landon’s eyes never waver from mine.
“People don’t want to know Landon,” he says softly. “Landy is who they want.”
My heart soars from his words. He’s not running.
“I already know Landy from social media,” I say firmly. “I want to know you.”
Landon is silent as he considers my words. Then he cocks an eyebrow at me. “That’s a dangerous proposition, DesignerA. And you don’t strike me as a risk-taker.”
Oh, if he only knew the truth. That I’m risking my heart by even entertaining the idea of seeing him. Potentially falling for him.
But Landon is a risk my heart is more than willing to take.
“Maybe I’m in the mood for danger tonight,” I say.
“Maybe I am, too,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.
Oohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
“Come on, let’s go,” Landon says, nodding in the direction of a red Ferrari. “Unless you want to get to know me in the basement of the arena.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
Landon escorts me to the passenger side of his sports car. I stare at it and shake my head.
“What?” he asks.
“This car,” I say, staring at it. “You have a Ferrari.”
I stare at the gorgeous, glossy red car in front of me, with the famous horse on the yellow background on the hood. And this sleek car oozes sex appeal.
Like Landon.
“Wanna drive it?”
I whip around and stare at him. “What? Oh, no. I couldn’t!”
“Why not? Do you know how to drive a stick?”
“Yes, but what if I wrecked it?”
“Are you in the business of crashing cars?”
“No, of course not. But your car is ridiculous expensive. It’s a supercar!” I protest. “I couldn’t afford to fix it if I did.”
“Listen, I swear I’ll take full financial responsibility if we get in a fender bender.”
“Landon, no. I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Landon challenges. Then to my surprise, he takes my hand, and when I feel his fingers against my skin, sparks shoot through me.
He turns my hand over and holds his keys over my palm.
“You said you wanted to be dangerous tonight,” Landon says, his eyes intense. Then he drops the keys to his Ferrari into my hand. “Prove it.”
My heart is pounding so loudly I can hear it in my ears.
He’s going to push me out of my comfort zone. Driving his car is symbolic of that.
And I’m ready to be pushed.
“Okay,” I say, flashing him a smile.
I turn around go to the driver’s side, open the door, and slip into the richest leather seat I’ve ever been in. The seats are body-hugging and the leather is like butter. Landon climbs in on the passenger side, and I sit transfixed at the dashboard.
“This is the Ferrari FF,” Landon explains. “The engine is in the front on this one. And you start the engine and shift by using the steering wheel.”
I tentatively place my hands on the ergonomic steering wheel. But I’m too scared to do anything else.
“Gah, I don’t know. It’s snowy out.”
“This Ferrari is designed to handle snow.”
“But it’s a Ferrari,” I protest.
“It’s a car. So you drive it like a car,” Landon teases.
“Oh, shut up,” I say, laughing. “But you have long legs. I’m going to mess up all your settings so I can reach the pedals.”
“According to the owner’s manual, I can move them back,” Landon says.
I shoot him a mock glare, and he laughs.
I take a moment to adjust everything with Landon’s guidance, and then I turn on the engine. The car roars to life in my ears, and the power of the car is beyond sexy. I inhale the scent of the leather, listen to the engine, and turn to the gorgeous man sitting next to me in this supercar.
What a moment. I can’t believe I’m about to drive Landon’s freaking Ferrari in Chicago.
“Argh!” I blurt out before I even shift into drive. “This is so terrifying! What if I hit a curb? Or a trashcan?”
“We just had this conversation, Livy. Would you please drive? I’m getting rather anxious for my personality assessment. Will I need a #2 pencil? Because we might have to stop at Walgreen’s so I can get one.”
“Would you stop?” I say, giggling. “It’s not a test, Landon. And you won’t need a pencil. A glass of wine would be better.”
“Then you need to drive so I have time to let the wine decant,” Landon gives back.
“Fine! I’m driving!”
Then I inch forward and tap the breaks, to get a feel for it.
“If this is the rate you’re going to drive, we should be back in my place in time for breakfast.”
“Don’t make me laugh,” I beg. “Or it will take me forever to drive to your place.”
Finally, I start driving. The car is a dream to handle, and I have this electric feeling inside as I cruise down the streets of downtown Chicago.
“This is so much fun,” I blurt out at a stop light. I turn to him. “I’m driving a Ferrari. I can’t thank you enough for letting me drive it!”
Landon’s expression is serious. “I trust you.”
My pulse leaps. I know he’s not talking about his car right now.
“Good, because I trust you, too,” I say quietly.
I hear a horn behind me, and I jump, as the light has turned green. Landon directs me back to the Jourdin Chicago, and I ease the Ferrari into one of his parking spots. His Range Rover, which I remember from the school parking lot, is
in the other space.
We make our way back up to his condo, and as soon as we step inside, Landon moves behind me.
“Here,” he says, “let me help you with your coat.”
Goosebumps prickle my skin from his nearness. I set my purse on his hall table and shimmy out of my coat, but then it catches on my bracelet.
“Hold on, I’m stuck,” I say, moving to free the silver chain from the fabric of my coat. “It’s my bracelet.”
Landon comes around in front of me, studying where I’m trying to free the chain link from the coat cuff.
“I’ve almost got it,” I say. And a moment later, I have successfully freed my bracelet. “There. I’m good.”
I remove my coat, and Landon takes it from me. He heads to his hall closet and hangs it up for me.
“So what is on your bracelet, anyway?”
I lift my arm up so I can show it to him. “It’s a fortune cookie message.”
“Yeah?” Landon says, moving in front of me.
We’re now inches apart from each other. My heart is racing. Butterflies are dancing wildly in my stomach.
“I made the fortune cookie,” I say, running my fingers over the delicate, silver charm, “then I made the link bracelet, and lastly, I stamped the message on a fortune.”
Landon reaches for my hand, and a breath escapes my lips as he brings my wrist toward him. He gently runs his fingers over the fortune cookie message, sending heat searing through every inch of me.
“Love is seeing inside,” he reads aloud.
My eyes meet his. Landon is staring at me. My heart races as I realize this message could be about Landon. That love will allow me to see the real man he has hidden from the rest of the world.
“I like this message,” he says quietly.
“I do, too,” I say, gazing up at him.
“I’m not avoiding serious questions,” Landon says slowly, “And I promise you I will answer every single one, Livy. But I have one I’ve been thinking about since last night. Since you left. And I have to ask you it. Now.”