Page 42 of Make Me Yours

Font Size:

13

LILAH

The energy inside the Kingston Landry Arena is electric. Palpable in that bone-deep, pulse-quickening way only a sold-out hockey game can be. A sea of blue Railers jerseys ripples through the stands, and the crowd roars as the puck is dropped at center ice.

I’ve been in this building a hundred times, but tonight feels charged in a way I can’t explain. Maybe it’s because I’m watching Steele with fresh eyes. Or maybe it’s because I haven’t stopped thinking about the way he looked at me earlier in the car.

Like I’m not just his best friend.

Like I’m something more.

I adjust the sleeves of the oversized Sanderson jersey I’m wearing. The same one he left folded on the back of the couch this afternoon with a note that said?—

Wear me tonight. Don’t argue.

The man is bossy.

Thoughtful.

And hard to ignore.

Rina leans in from her seat beside me, holding a glass of wine and smirking like she knows something I don’t.

“Soooo,” she says, dragging the word out. “Cam sent over a few of the test shots from this morning.”

I blink in surprise. “Already? That was fast.”

She nods, tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “He was excited. Said the lighting was perfect and your chemistry with Steele was off the charts.”

Heat creeps into my cheeks. “We were just following his direction.”

“Uh-huh.” Rina chews thoughtfully, eyes pinned on me like she can see right through my casual tone. “Well, ‘just following direction’ is about to sell a whole lot of luxury watches.”

Before I can respond, Evelyn, who’s seated across from us on one of the sleek leather couches, chimes in, her lips curved around the rim of her wine glass.

“I saw the photographs,” she adds, “and they were absolutely stunning.”

I flush harder and pretend to focus on the ice. “I doubt the photos were any better than the ones with the model.”

Rina snorts. “Please. They were way better. You two looked hot. Like incinerate-your-panties kind of hot.” She waves a hand in the air, searching for the right word. “Combustible,” she says with a grin. “I’ve seen smolder before, but whatever you and Steele had going on was full-body heat.”

I press my lips together and try not to let her see how those words affect me.

“Well, that’s good,” I manage lightly. “At least the client will be happy.”

“Mm-hmm,” Rina makes a low sound of amusement before leaning in as if she’s sharing a secret. “Oh, the client’s thrilled.”

It’s a relief when the suite door opens, until I see who it is. Hugh Landry strolls inside like he owns the place.

Which, technically, he does.

The suit he wears is impeccable, and his dark hair, that’s threaded with silver, is neatly combed back.

“Evening, ladies,” he drawls, giving us a nod before his attention locks on Evelyn.

“You look lovely as ever,” he says.

“Thanks,” Evelyn replies coolly, not bothering to rise from her seat. She simply lifts her wine glass in a deliberate toast and then takes a sip.