Mine To Love

A Worthy Opponent

CHAPTER SEVEN

Easton

Music blasts through the house, waking me up. I growl as I

throw off my covers and check the time on my phone. Five

fucking a.m. A solid half hour before I need to wake up for the game.

I exit my room, forgoing a shirt in favor of finding out what the f**k is going on. My feet stop as my eyes land on the object of my frustrations.

And I mean all my frustrations.

The mental kind. The physical kind. The kind making my d**k twitch to life in my shorts.

Eloise wears a tiny scrap of clothing better suited for a Victoria’s Secret runway. Her silky nightgown hugs her curves with the hem hitting her mid-thigh. The globes of her ass call to me, begging me to check out what’s underneath her tiny dress.

“Good morning.” She speaks in a singsong voice that doesn’t suit her.

The way she speaks and the look she sends me over her shoulder scream mischievous.

Either I’m experiencing the best f*****g dream or a living nightmare.

The smell of eggs and bacon tells me this is all very real. My d**k throbs in my shorts as I assess Eloise’s legs and arse. That f*****g arse.

Shit. This is actual torture.

“Do you want breakfast?”

Well, f**k. Who am I to say no? With Eloise looking like a wet dream, I’ll l take anything she has to offer. I sit at the dining table, hoping to hide my growing erection. My eyes track her every move. From the way she grabs the coffee mug on the top

shelf to her bending over to check on the bacon in the oven.

Every f*****g move she makes teases me. I honestly can’t wrap my head around her nice behavior, especially after me being a d**k to her every other day .

Her shining eyes fail to match the fake frown plastered on her face.

“Are you okay? Your face looks a bit pained.”

That’s not the only thing in pain.

She walks over, holding a full plate of food in front of her. I could

absolutely get used to this kind of treatment. Maybe having a babysitter isn’t the worst thing after all.

She leans in close, hitting me with the scent of strawberry shampoo.

“This situation can go two ways. Either we can treat each other with respect, or you can act like a d**k to me. But if you choose the second

option, be aware that I don’t take s**t lying down. There’s more than one way to torture someone.” Her eyes move from my face to my crotch, eyeing my erection.

Shit. This is both hot yet so f*****g wrong. “And I’m being tortured

how? Seems like I’m getting the better end of the deal with breakfast and a show.”

“Oh? You thought this was for your benefit? More like I scheduled you two back-to-back interviews after your game because everyone knows you love the spotlight. Although the added blue balls to your morning is a plus.”

She smiles wide.

The way she plotted for me to have the worst day impresses me more

than it annoys me.

“You played me.”

Eloise shakes her head. “Think of this as an enlightenment.” She walks toward her room with the plate of what should have been my breakfast.

“P.S. If you want breakfast, call room service for yourself. I’m not your maid.” Her smirk is the last thing I see before she shuts the door to her room.

Eloise motherfucking Denver proved herself a worthy opponent.

I've played in sold-out arenas since I was nineteen. Forty thousand people screaming my name and television cameras following my every move. The Xanax I took after breakfast has worked its way into my system, turning my anxiety into a temporary issue of the past. I take the right amount to dull the worries while staying alert because the last thing I need while chasing after a puck is a panic attack.

Eloise smiles at me from a corner of the garage, gloating about her move

earlier.

I take advantage of a busy Axel to talk to her. “So, that’s how it’s going

to be between us? I push, you pull?”

“That depends. Are you going to be an ass to me for the entire season?”

“I don’t know.” I genuinely don’t. It’s not like I can predict when shit

will hit the fan for me.

“How reassuring.”

I let out a low laugh. “Some call me unpredictable.”

A crew member calls me over to prepare for the game .

“I better get going. Enjoy the game.” I love getting under her skin.

Eloise’s smooth, tan, wouldn’t mind kissing every inch skin.

Yup. I’m so f****d.

“Good luck,” Eloise mumbles under her breath.

I throw her a smile over my shoulder before entering the rink.

My gear protects me from head to toe, ensuring my safety if

anything were to go awry.

Reporters asking the same recycled questions after every bloody game has ever bothered me yet somehow, one woman carrying a notebook has me distracted before I've even stepped onto the ice.

Eloise walks a few feet ahead of me, her press pass swinging around her neck as she disappears into a crowd of journalists.

Hayes bumps my shoulder as we head toward the tunnel.

"You planning on staring at her all morning?"

"I'm making sure she's doing her job."

He snorts.

"Is that what we're calling it?"

"It is."

"If you say so."

Bloody irritating man.

I shove my hands into my pockets and continue toward the dressing room.

Warm-ups end faster than I expect.

When I step off the ice, reporters immediately swarm the players.

Normally I'd find the quickest exit but today I stop because of her.

Eloise stands in front of Logan with a recorder in one hand and a pen in the other.

She smiles and it’s not the polite smile she gives me but a real one that reaches her eyes.

Logan says something that makes her laugh.

The sound carries across the corridor and I hate how familiar it still is.

Connor finishes next and he actually looks interested.

When she's done, he thanks her.

Thanks her.

I don't think I've ever thanked a reporter in my life.

"You're glaring." Hayes appears beside me carrying a protein shake.

"I'm watching."

"Same thing."

"I'm watching."

He follows my line of sight.

"Oh."

His grin widens but I don't say anything and he chuckles.

"I always wondered what she'd look like in a press pass."

"What?"

"Nothing."

He walks away laughing to himself.

Idiot.

A few minutes later, Axel corners her near the coffee station.

Of course he does.

He leans against the counter like he's starring in a bloody perfume advert and I feel like punching his perfectly sculpted face.

She laughs again.

He's smiling.

She's smiling.

Something unpleasant twists low in my stomach.

I don't like it. Not one bit.

He leans closer and whispers into her ear and she swats him off while still laughing lightly. I wonder what’s so funny about him.

"What are you staring at?"

Connor.

Again.

Apparently everyone has become obsessed with asking me that today.

"Nothing."

He looks toward Eloise.

"Oh."

Not him too.

"You're impossible."

"I haven't said anything."

"You were about to."

Connor smirks.

Practice resumes and I couldn’t be more excited to get away from that form of self torture.

Coach blows the whistle.

I miss a pass.

Another one.

Oscar notices immediately.

"Grey. You with us today?"

"Obviously." I say as I skate over .

"Then stop looking playing like you’re five and get your head into the game." I push off before he can say anything else.

After practice, reporters gather outside the interview room.

I finish my media obligations and head toward the corridor.

Eloise doesn't notice me.

She's crouched beside a camera, reviewing photos she's taken .

"You've got a good eye." The compliment slips out before I realise I've spoken. She pauses and looks at me.

For a second, neither of us says anything then she smiles.

"Thanks." I don’t even get to say my next words out before Axel appears.

"There you are, Lo."

The smile disappears from her face as she turns toward him.

"I need one last quote."

"Coming."

She gathers her notebook and walks away with him.

I watch them disappear down the corridor.

"Captain."

Connor nudges my shoulder.

"You planning on standing there all day?"

I tear my eyes away.

"No."

"You've been watching her since we got here."

"I've been watching the journalists."

Connor laughs.

"Sure you have."

He walks off before I can tell him to piss off.

I exhale slowly.

This is exactly why Oscar should never have put her on this team.

Because every time she laughs with someone else...

Every time another bloke makes her smile...

Every time she looks at someone the way she used to look at me...

I remember exactly what I lost.

And for the first time since she walked back into my life...

I'm starting to realise I don't like sharing her attention.

Not even a little.