Page 30 of Cross the Line
“It’ll hurt, and it’ll be ugly. But, Eli…” He tugs at my fingertips. “Look at me.”
I do.
“Finley loves you, too. More than any awful feeling the past or the truth might make her feel.”
I’ve been repeating that to myself for hours, but every second without a message from her, the louder the voice in my head gets with all theI told you so’sI’ve been working so hard to silence.
“Eli… Sweetheart…” His voice gentles, a brush of air. My chest squeezes at the endearment. His hand skims my jaw, soft as breath, and my lungs twist around my heart. “Fin’s smart and strong, and you have to trust that. Trust her.”
His gaze pins me in place, steady and sure. When I look at him, I see her, too.
Jayden and Finley. Together, they’re the two halves of my safe place. I never realized how much their love for each other etched them deeper into my bones. When I see them together, the world feels possible.
I cup Jayden’s hand against my jaw, leaning into it, breathing him in.
“I love you.”
The words fall before I can stop them. I don’t try to anymore. Saying it feels like stepping out of the shade. Like sunlight finally finding my skin.
Jayden beams, that radiant grin that could stop time. I’m weightless, drunk on it. This is how he makes Finley feel, too. Like we’re not stuck anymore. Like we’re the swallows. Our feathers so smooth that we pass through the air without the friction of where we came from dragging us back.
The elevator pings open, forcing space between us.
We haven’t talked about what we are yet—not in relation to the team. Hockey is still our profession, and the rules are written in invisible inkall around us. And we don’t know what they mean for us yet. We don’t know what they mean for the team…
“You guys getting in or what?” Matheo’s voice cuts through the moment, his heavy steps vibrating the floor.
Someone’s clearly in a mood.
“Good morning to you, too, buddy,” Jayden sings as we step inside. He starts pressing the button for every single floor between ours and the lobby.
I fight a laugh when Matheo glares, blue fire blazing in his eyes. Typical Jayden—poking the bear like it’s his morning workout. The familiarity almost steadies me.
“What the actual fuck, seu cona de sabão?” Matheo swats at Jayden’s hand. “Vai para a puta que pariu, gajo!”
Yeah.Definitely grumpy if he’s resorted to Portuguese curses.
He jabs his knuckles into Jayden’s ribs while Jayden laughs and keeps pressing buttons like a hyperactive kid. The mirrored walls turn us into reflections of chaos; two overgrown schoolboys in matching clothes, horsing around before class. Except Matheo is a two-hundred-and-twenty-four-pound enforcer.
Even though Jayden’s taller and heavier, it takes everything in me to stay still, hands shoved in my pockets, pretending I’m unaffected. Pretending I don’t want to rip Matheo off of him for laying a finger on what’s mine.
Breathe. Let them have their normal.
Jayden’s making exaggerated “ouch” noises with every jab. They spar like this all the time. If Matheo’s going to throw hits, Jayden can take them.
“What’s that name you like to call me again? Palerma?” Jayden teases when the elevator stops and nobody gets on. “That’s it, Palerma… get it out of your system.”
“Youare the idiot. A fucking annoying idiot that can’t keep his stupid fucking head in the game and?—”
“Are you mad at me?” Jayden cuts him off with a smirk. “Feels like you’re angry, buddy.”
Matheo flips him off. “Chupe-lá, corno.”
The elevator stops. Starts. Stops again. Each time, Matheo’s breathing gets rougher, angrier.
Jayden leans back, eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “What did I do?”
There’s only one thing that comes to mind:the loss. Last night wasn’t Jayden’s best, and that’s on me.
