Page 3 of Owning Eva

Oh, God.

Eli steps forward, every movement deliberate, his presence so intense it feels like he’s sucking the oxygen out of the room. Up close, he’s even hotter. Deep brown eyes, straight, masculine nose, full lips surrounded by just the perfect amount of scruff, chiseled jaw, tall, broad… everything, and a quiet intensity that makes my nipples stand to attention.

“Eli Jackson,” he says in a deep, rough voice. He doesn’t offer his hand. He just stands there, looking at me like he’s trying to figure me out.

“Eva Carter,” I manage, praying my voice doesn’t betray how much he’s affecting me.

His dark gaze drops briefly, lingering on my body under the thick coat and tight leggings before sliding back up to meet my eyes. It’s subtle, but it feels like he just undressed me with a single glance. Oh Lord.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to keep my composure. “Nice tomeet you.”

“Likewise,” he rumbles, his voice so low it’s almost a growl. Sweet Baby Jesus.

“Okay, enough standing in the doorway,” Emily chirps, breaking the tension. “Liam, take Eva’s bag and show her to her room. I need to catch up with some of the girls.”

Shaking his head at his wife’s bossiness, Liam grabs my bag before I can protest, and Emily disappears with a wave, leaving me standing there awkwardly.

“You’re coming to the reception tonight, right?” Liam asks as he leads the way down the hall.

“Reception?” I glance at Emily’s retreating figure, realizing she definitely forgot to mention the fancy shindig is tonight.

“It’s casual,” Liam replies, smiling. “Mostly just the team, some of the staff, and the WAGs. It’ll be fun.”

I’m not so sure about that. Especially with Eli lurking behind us, silent and intense.

I can feel his gaze on me the entire walk to my room. When we finally stop in front of my door, I let out a small breath of relief.

“Thanks,” I say to Liam, grabbing my bag.

“See you tonight,” he responds easily before heading off, leaving me alone with his teammate.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just stands there, watching me with those dark, unreadable eyes.

“What?” I ask in a sharp voice.

His lips twitch with a hint of amusement. “Nothing.”

“Then why are you still standing here?”

“Because I wanted to see if you’d ask me to stay.”

My heart skips a beat. “I wouldn’t.”

“Good.” His voice drops even lower, and for a moment, I think he might step closer. But then he turns, walking away without another word.

I stare after him, my pulse racing. His faded jeans hug his tight ass just right, big shoulders and strong back muscles rolling under the fabric of his coat. His thick dark hair catches the above light. Long legs eating the distance to the end of the hallway in a confident, unhurried gait.

What the hell just happened?

Four

Eli

The event hall is too fucking perfect. Golden lights, soft music, and a fake-ass buzz of polite conversation that’s supposed to make everyone feel warm and fuzzy inside. Yeah, right. This whole thing reeks like the kind of place where people talk bullshit deals over drink and pretend they give a damn.

I fucking hate it.

I pull at the collar of my suit jacket, nursing a drink I don’t even want. Russo’s voice grates in my ear as he breezes past.

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