Chapter 204
EMILIA
I’m upset about so many things, I don’t even know where to start.
One: Tessa should be here. But then again, I did hijack her ride when I bolted straight to Liam’s, so I don’t exactly get to whine.
Two: I opened Liam’s gallery and discovered he’s somehow managed to take over fifty photos of us – mostly me and I had zero clue.
—
Three: I only went snooping in the first place because of that article. Everyone was actually saying nice things about us for once, which made me so stupidly happy I didn’t even clock the photo attached until later – Liam, caught in the act, sneakily taking a picture of me mid- rant about leafy greens.
And four, the kicker: I can’t even sulk properly about any of it, because I’m too nervous to even breathe straight. My stomach feels like it’s preparing for Olympic–level gymnastics.
Liam throws me a sideway glance when we pull up. “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Relax,” Liam murmurs, steering me up the path like I’m a stray dog that might bolt. “It’s just a barbecue.”
“Right,” I say, “Just a barbecue. Just me meeting a houseful of men who know you better than anyone, who also happen to be elite athletes with functioning social skills, and who will definitely clock that I’m sweating like a criminal.”
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“You’re not sweating.”
I swipe at my forehead. “Then what’s this? Free hydration?”
—
He hull’s a laugh, clearly amused at my meltdown, which rude. “They’re going to love you. Half of them already stalk your bakery anyway.”
“Okay, first of all, don’t say ‘stalk‘ when I’m about to meet them. Second, what if they don’t like me? What if they hate me? What if they’re all secretly Team Raisins?” Just the thought of those shriveled wannabe grapes makes me shudder.
Liam stops, deadpan. “There is no Team Raisins.”
“Wow. You say that with the same confidence Apple uses to sell forty- dollar chargers.”
Liam cracks a smile at that, and it makes me feel better for about three seconds, until the front door swings open and the sound of male laughter pours out like an alarm bell.
“Oh God,” I mutter. “It’s happening. I’m about to be judged by an entire hockey team.”
—
Technically, I’ve met a handful of his teammates – mostly the ones who wandered into the bakery for sugar fixes – but never all at once. And sure, I’ve watched enough of Liam’s games to recognize the back of his head anywhere, but that’s about it. Cam, the goalie, is the only one I can spot without needing commentary. Everyone else? Mystery meat in pads.
The guy who opens the door proves my point. No clue who he is. He grins at Liam, does one of those bro–handshakes that looks like an interpretive dance, and then before I can blink – hauls me into a hug that could snap a rib. While I’m still suffocating, he calls back into
–
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the house, “Banks, the Calloways are here!”
The Calloways?
I try to glare at Liam, but it’s wasted – I’m too busy being flattened against a stranger’s very solid chest.
“Did you bring cookies?” he asks, like we’re lifelong friends, and has the nerve to reach for the bag in Liam’s hand. He actually pouts when he finds the bottle of wine we picked up on the way. “Really? I would‘ ve preferred cookies. Or those muffins you made at the start of the season — God, those were good.”
I blink up at him – because of course he’s a skyscraper, maybe half a foot taller than Liam. Not bad looking either: blue eyes, dirty blond hair, annoyingly boy–next–door and a hint of an accent. But even with the height advantage, he pales next to Liam now that they’re shoulder to shoulder. “Are you the one hosting this barbecue?”
He has the audacity to shake his head. “Not really?”
What does ‘not really‘ even mean? “So I guess the wine isn’t for you, anyway.”
“Banks,” he groans, turning on the dramatics. “Emilia’s bullying me.”
And right on cue, Banks makes his entrance. He comes down from the porch, practically peels his teammate off me, and pulls me into a hug I return with relief. I know this one: Owen Banks. He’s the guy who once brought his wife into the bakery and she half–tried to recruit me into WAG life. Back then Liam and I weren’t even dating, so the offer felt more salt than sweet. Now, though? Now it feels like something I should take seriously- who better to lean on than the people who already know what this circus is like?
“She’s not lying,” Owen cuts in, shooting his teammate a look. “You’d
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think this was his house instead of mine. Don’t mind him. And thanks for actually bringing something – everyone else showed up empty- handed.”
–
“Hey!” Skyscraper protests, genuinely offended.
Owen ignores him. “Did you bring the Russian with you? Heard you two are best friends. Roommates, too, right?”
I smile, a little shy. “Yeah, we are. But she didn’t come with us tonight.”
–
That’s when Liam finally speaks, leaning into my line of vision — and of course he’s talking to the one familiar face I vaguely recognize as Owen’s wife. “And whose fault is that?”
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Owen waves me off. “Don’t worry about it. We can kick Liam out as a sacrifice. I only wanted you and Tessie over anyway.”
I tilt my head, considering. “So he’s just… a bonus?”
“Exactly.”
Liam chuckles, like he’s used to being the punchline, and strolls over. “Cam’s on Tessa duty, so they’ll be here soon. Hopefully. Hands off, both of you – you’re gonna make me jealous.” He says it with a smile, but he doesn’t bother waiting until they’ve stepped away before draping an arm over my shoulder.
–
Freja, Owen’s wife, laughs at the sight. “Really? Jealous? You? Emilia, you’re lucky — this man never gets jealous no matter how many times I mess with him.” Her voice has this warm, accented lilt that makes me smile.
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Owen snorts. “How could you leave me for anyone else? Completely unthinkable.” His voice dips into something rough that makes me want to grimace. “Besides, we both know-”
Liam clamps his hands over my cars before I can hear the rest. Judging from Freja’s sudden blush and Liam’s wince, it’s for the best.
The skyscraper stranger starts gagging dramatically. Liam finally drops his hands from my ears, and Freja sighs, still flushed. “Alright, Jesper. That’s enough.”
–
Ah. So that’s his name –
Jesper.
Jesper doesn’t look like he’s planning to shut up anytime soon, which is probably why Liam doesn’t bother waiting. He swoops in, steals a kiss while everyone’s distracted, and suddenly the whole world shrinks to just him and me. My heart nearly gives out at the thought of someone actually noticing, but of course Liam must’ve already factored that in.
The kiss hits me like a spark to dry kindling, warming me all the way up, toes to ears, until I’m sure even my cartilage is blushing. Just when I think my heartbeat’s loud enough to give us away, he drags his tongue across my lower lip and nips gently, pulling back only when I gasp. His arms cinch tighter around my waist, like he knows I’d melt to the floor without him.
When he finally looks at me, head tilted, lips curling into that wicked grin, I want nothing more than to ditch this barbecue and find the nearest lockable door.
He dips his head, his yoice brushing hot against my car. “You look well–kissed, hm? Is that what happened, love?”
I let out a helpless little whine, darting a glance at Freja and the others
none of them are paying the slightest attention. Still, I manage,
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“Liam, this really isn’t the place.”
—
“Mm,” he hums, ignoring me entirely, tilting my chin toward him for one last stolen kiss. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he cases back though his arms stay locked around me. “Fine. But at least you’re less nervous. I’ll take that as a win.”
He fusses with the sleeves of my coat, frowns as if I’m already chilled, and then turns toward the trio still bickering. “Can Emilia and I head inside now? I’d rather she not catch a cold. You’re welcome to keep arguing out here if you’d like.”
Owen barks a laugh, leaving Jesper to keep yammering in Freja’s ear. “Whatever, man. You know how to get to the back?”
“Yeah.” Liam doesn’t even break stride as he steers me away
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