10. Eva

Ten

Eva

I barely slept. Not because of the bed—it’s like laying on a cloud—but because of him. Eli Jackson. His words, his gaze, his entire overwhelming presence is still haunting me, no matter how many deep, calming breaths I take.

I tug on my boots and zip up my coat, deciding to take a walk before Emily inevitably shows up to drag me into something “fun.” Hopefully, some cold air will help clear my head.

* * *

The lodge’s skating rink is empty, tucked behind the main building and surrounded by snow-covered trees. The ice glistens under the morning sun, smooth and inviting.

I haven’t skated in years, but something about the quiet stillness calls to me. I spot a small cabin nearby, where a rack of skates sits waiting. The idea of gliding across the ice, letting my mind go blank for a while, is too tempting to pass up.

Minutes later, I’m lacing up skates that fit surprisingly well, wobbling slightly as I step onto the ice. It’s awkward at first, my legs shaky and unsteady, but muscle memory kicks in, and soon I’m skating slow, lazy loops around the rink.

For the first time in days, I feel like I can breathe.

Until I hear his voice.

“You’re full of surprises, Carter.”

My heart leaps into my throat as I whip around to find Eli leaning against the rink’s wooden fence. He’s wearing a heavy black coat, gloved hands hanging over the railing, and the small grin on his face is almost as dangerous as the way his eyes rake over me.

“Do you have some kind of tracker on me?” I call out, trying to hide the way my breath quickens.

He pushes off the fence, stepping on the ice. And, of course he doesn’t wobble. “Just good instincts.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Instincts?”

“Yeah, they told me you’d try to sneak off. And that I’d find you.”

There’s something in the way he says it—like it’s not just about this morning, but something deeper. Like he’s always going to find me.

I shake my head, turning away before he can see how much his words affect me. “You skate?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.

“Baby, I’m a hockey player,” he says, full-on smirking, now.

“Right. So, no?” I raise a teasing eyebrow.

That earns me a surprised laugh, and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips.

* * *

Before I can protest, Eli closes the distance between us in two long strides, his giant frame making me feel small in a way I’ve never experienced.

“You’re not bad,” he says, nodding at my wobbly movements.

“I guess.”

He reaches out, his large hand catching mine before I can react. The heat of his touch seeps through my gloves, and my heart thuds wildly as he pulls me closer.

“What are you doing, Eli?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Helping,” he says simply. “You were about to fall.”

I blink up at him, my heart beating wildly at the intensity in his eyes. “I wasn’t falling.”

“You would’ve.”

His grip tightens, and for a moment, I forget how to move. Forget how to breathe.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. “I got you.”

The words send a shiver down my spine, and I hate how much I want to believe them.

* * *

We skate slowly, his hand steadying me even though I don’t really need it. The silence between us is charged, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Why do you keep doing this?” I ask finally, my voice quieter than I intended.

“Doing what?”

“Following me. Watching me. Acting like…” I trail off, unsure how to put it into words.

“Like you’re mine?” Eli finishes, his voice so low it feels like a caress.

My heart stutters, and I stumble slightly, my skates catching on the ice. His grip on me tightens immediately, pulling me flush against his chest.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he says softly, his breath warm against my face.

I should pull away. I should say something sassy to break the tension. But all I can do is stare up into his soulful eyes, my lips parting as I try to calm the riot in my chest.

“You’re too used to being alone,” Eli says, his voice a rough whisper. “But you’re not anymore.”

The words hit me like a slap and a caress all at once, leaving me shaken.

“Eli—”

“Don’t fight it, Eva,” he interrupts me, his tone soft but firm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

The moment stretches between us, his dark eyes holding mine with a promise I’m not ready to accept. Then his head dips, his full lips so close I can feel the warmth of his breath.

“Eli…” My voice is barely a whisper.

Just as his lips brush mine, the sound of voices echoes across the rink, shattering the moment.

We both turn to see a group coming toward us, their laughter cutting through the quiet.

Eli steps back, his expression darkening, but the heat in his eyes doesn’t fade.

Before I can say something, he strides off the ice, leaving me standing there with my heart racing and my mind spinning.