Page 66 of The Rival (Looking to Score 2)
“I don’t know,” I admit. “It couldn’t hurt.”
Holt takes her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze as a look of understanding passes between them.
There’s a lot of history between Eden and me, but none of the loving fondness that these two share. It’s obvious they’re perfect for each other, and the more I’m around them, the more I believe it. I could never have given Eden everything she wanted, just like I know she couldn’t give me everything I needed.
“How did you know that Holt was your forever?”
Eden smiles, crossing one leg over the other. “We were eating popcorn at the movies. He looked at me and smiled, and I knew I didn’t want to eat popcorn with anyone else ever again.”
“Damn.”
She laughs, her eyes twinkling. “Yeah. I know.”
Holt squeezes her hand, and they share a sweet look.
I take another sip of coffee. Maybe it’s long overdue for us to be having this conversation. Or maybe we just weren’t ready until now. I’m not sure, but I know it has to happen for the sake of our working relationship, as well as any possible friendship we might have in the future.
“I know why you and I never worked. You needed a project. Someone to save. And I didn’t need saving, Eden.”
She offers me a sad smile. “No, I guess you didn’t.”
“I just needed someone to be there to cheer me on.”
I also needed someone who didn’t need anything from me. Who could just . . . be. And that girl wasn’t Eden. She was constantly striving for more, always daydreaming of her next big idea, the next project. I guess she gets that with Holt. The guy seems like he could use someone in his corner.
It’s another reason why I know that Aspen is perfect for me. She doesn’t have the constant need for speed that Eden does. Chill in Canada all summer on a whim? She was down. Jump into a freezing-cold lake? Why not?
God, I miss Aspen. I miss talking to her. Cooking for her. Holding her. Making love to her. I miss the person I was when I was with her.
“I’m going to talk to her, okay?” Eden says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Okay,” I say with a nod.
“Maybe it’ll help.”
“Maybe.”
Even if it is a big maybe, I have some hope for the first time in a long time. And hope is a very good thing. I have no idea how, but I’m going to show Aspen how good we could be together.
But first, I’m going to call Saint, because a man needs a plan.
27
* * *
ASPEN
When I first learned that our annual charity gala would be held in a historic hotel downtown, I was excited to attend because it would give me the chance to get dressed up and sip champagne. But once I realized the chances of seeing Alex here were statistically high, I wasn’t sure I should come.
Now that I’m here, though, I’m determined to make the best of it.
The cold fall air retreats as soon as I step inside the ballroom, which is filled with beautifully dressed people in evening gowns and tuxedos. I’m wearing a rose-colored number that I rented from a bridal shop down the street from my apartment. The long sleeves are made of sheer lace, the bodice accentuating my breasts with a delicate pearl outline. The lengthy skirts trail behind me slightly, so I hike them up with one hand, revealing the four-inch nude heels that I’m already regretting.
“This is incredible,” I murmur, reaching out to touch Eden’s arm.
She turns to me and smiles, absolutely stunning in her Vogue-worthy black velvet gown and matching gloves. “Honestly? Not as impressive as last year.” She sighs, plucking a flute of champagne from a passing caterer’s tray and bringing it to her red lips for a generous swig.
“I see Les,” Holt says from behind us, towering over our heads. He’s wearing a black tuxedo with velvet lapels, matching Eden.
I follow his gaze to a small gathering of familiar faces. That’s when I see him, and my heart gives a painful little leap.
Even though he’s got his back turned to us, I immediately recognize the familiar line of Alex Braun’s broad back through his fitted suit jacket. It hugs his shoulders possessively, and though I can barely catch glimpses of him through the moving crowd, I know he looks absolutely dashing.
My stomach turns itself into an intricate knot. I can’t face him tonight. My feelings for him are too big, too overwhelming.
I don’t know how long I’ve been standing dumbstruck in the entrance until I realize Eden and Holt have abandoned me to join the gathering.
“Aspen!” a man’s voice calls out from behind me.
I turn to see Reeves, one of the defensemen and the captain of the Titans, dressed in a navy-blue suit, the top few buttons of his white shirt purposely unbuttoned. He clearly saw the dress code as a loose guideline and ran with it.
