Page 113 of Mr. Swoony

“You’re gonna be the one to ruin it,” Henry says. “If you keep this from her and handle it on your own, she’s going to find out eventually. She’ll know something is amiss, then she’ll grow suspicious, and it won’t end how you want it to. Trust me.” Henry gets up on his skates and practices his stick work.

“Think about it,” Rowan says. “I know you’re a fixer, but this time, you can’t just be Prince Charming on your white horse.” Rowan pats my shoulder and joins the other three.

“Now put on your helmet. We have to beat Buffalo tonight.” Tweetie passes the puck to Henry.

I put my helmet on and do a few exercises before telling them I’m ready for them to shoot at me.

After the practice, we head back into the locker room.

I understand where Henry and Rowan are coming from, but I’m going with Tweetie on this one. He’s had a relationship fail because of this bullshit, and he’s right, I need to keep this as far from Eloise as I can. So, I hammer a message to the last anonymous text I received.

Meet me eleven tomorrow at Beans.

The three dots appear immediately. It’s as if she sits by her phone and waits to hear from me even though I haven’t responded once.

I knew you’d come around.

Then I send a message to Eloise.

I miss you.

I miss you too, but I’ll be naked in your bed when you get home. Feel free to wake me up. ;)

Send me a picture of you right now.

She sends it to me, and I think she’s at a department store based on the mannequins behind her. Her blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail I’d love to have wrapped around my fist right now, and her smile is wide and happy.

Fuck Henry and Rowan. She’s been through enough shit. She doesn’t need my drama.

Forty-Six

Eloise

A knock sounds on the door of the condo, and I wipe my hands on the dish towel, padding across the floor to answer.

Kyleigh has two to-go cups of coffee from Beans in hand, one of my favorite cafés. “I got you one.”

I take it from her. “Thank you so much.” I sip, hoping the caffeine hits my veins and magically makes me a better baker.

“Oh, cake.” She walks in and sidles up to the breakfast bar.

“I’m making Conor a cake. Or trying to.” I go back to trying to measure out the ingredients for the frosting. He may only eat a small slice since he’s in season, I’m not sure, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“I thought this was already off your list.” She cups her coffee with both hands, watching me.

“Yeah, but since the last one never rose, I figured I’d try again. Especially to celebrate his big interview today. He said this is his first solo article and cover.” I can’t help the huge smile on my face.

“I know, I just saw him. I’m so proud of him. He’s waited a long time to be recognized in the league like this. Rowan always says how much more attention Conor deserves. Hopefully this will be the start of it.”

“Did you say you saw him?” I ask, not letting my eyes leave where I’m trying to carefully measure the ingredients.

He texted earlier and said the interview went great, and that he was heading to the gym to get in a workout.

“Yeah, he was at Beans. The two of them were tucked into a corner, deep in conversation, so I bought the coffees and snuck out before he spotted me. I didn’t want him to think I was spying on him, although he’d spy on me.” She laughs, but I’m still confused because he should be at the gym. “She’s a little younger than I assumed she’d be, but maybe I’m just getting older, and everyone looks young now.”

“Younger? How so?” My mind is now far from how much to measure out for the frosting recipe and more on if I put Conor’s dick in the mixer, would it chop it up or just spin it around.

She shrugs. “Just younger than me. She did have the cutest brunette bob though. Makes me want to cut my hair short.”

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