Page 16 of Owning Eva

“Jackson,” our goalie, Dax says as he drops into the chair next to me, his plate stacked like he hasn’t eaten in weeks.

“What?” I bark, barely glancing at him as my eyes track Eva’s every movement.

“You’re doing that crazy thing with your eyes, man.” His tone is amused.

“I’m fine,” I say, keeping my voice even.

“Bullshit.” He smirks, shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth. “I know that look.”

“What look?”

“The one you get before you’re about to break someone in half on the ice.” He raises an eyebrow, following my gaze to Eva. “She’s not a fucking play, you know.”

“I know,” I snap. I grit my teeth, my hands tightening around the edge of my plate. Since when do these motherfuckers pay such close attention to my mood?

He claps a hand on my shoulder as he stands, chuckling.

* * *

By the time brunch winds down, the crowd has thinned, leaving Eva lingering by the fire pit. I make my move, crossing the distance before I can overthink it.

She doesn’t notice me at first, too caught up in whatever’s swirling in her head. But when I stop in front of her, she looks up, her dark eyes widening for a split second before she schools her expression.

“You’re avoiding me again,” I say, keeping my voice low and even.

Her shoulders stiffen, and she glares up at me. “I’m not avoiding you.”

I frown, stepping closer. “You’ve been running since the moment we met, Eva.”

“Maybe I’m just not interested, Eli,” she snaps back, crossing her arms.

“Liar.” The word slips out rough, and I let it hang there, daring her to deny it.

Her glossy lips part like she’s going to, but nothing comes out. I step into her space, brushing my fingers against her arm. Her breath catches, and it’s all I can do not to pin her against the nearest wall.

“You’re scared,” I murmur, leaning in just enough for her to feel the heat of my breath against her ear.

“I’m not scared,” she whispers, but the slight tremor in her voice betrays her.

“Then prove it,” I challenge, my lips brushing her skin.

* * *

The first taste of her is enough to obliterate whatever restraint I had left. She’s sweet and warm, and when her hands clutch my coat like she’s trying to anchor herself, I know I’m fucking done for.

Eva kisses me back like she’s been holding herself in check for too long, and I don’t hesitate to deepen it, my hands sliding to her waist, pulling her closer until there’s no space left between us. Our lips slide over each other, our tongues playing, teeth scraping. Her moans blending into the low rumble that vibrates from deep into my chest. Fuck. She tastes fucking amazing. Soft, warm, fucking intoxicating.

When I finally pull back, it’s only because I need to catch my breath. Her eyes are wide, her lips swollen, and the sight of her—fucking wrecked from one kiss—has me ready to drag her upstairs and finish what we started.

“Still not interested?” I rasp, my voice rough and edgy.

She glares at me, but there’s no heat behind it, just a spark of something that looks a hell of a lot like surrender. “Shut up, Jackson.”

I chuckle, brushing my thumb over her full bottom lip before stepping back. “See you around, Carter.”

I walk away, my blood still humming and my fists clenched to keep from turning back. Waiting for the right moment is going to be the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done.

Fifteen

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