3. Eva

Three

Eva

The cold bites at my cheeks the second I step out of the car. Emily wasn’t lying about Lake Tahoe in December—it’s breathtaking. The kind of place that looks like it was plucked straight out of a Christmas card. Snow blankets everything: the tall evergreens, the luxury cabins, and the winding pathways lit with soft golden lights. It’s magical.

And intimidating as hell.

I adjust my scarf and try to keep my nerves in check as I follow Emily through the entrance of the lodge. She’s already chatting with the staff, looking completely at ease in her form-fitting coat and designer boots. And I’m just trying not to trip over the plush rug.

“Stop looking like you’re about to get kicked out of VIP,” Emily says over her shoulder, handing me my room key.

I shove the key into my pocket and mutter, “feels like it.”

Emily rolls her eyes. “Girl, please.”

Before I can argue, the door to the lodge swings open, and a gust of cold air sweeps in, along with deep, rumbling laughter.

“Liam!” Emily’s whole face lights up as she rushes toward her husband, who’s just walked in with a group of guys. And by the look of it, these are not just any guys. Big, broad-shouldered, impossibly good-looking men who radiate confidence and testosterone. Yep, they’re hockey players.

I freeze in place, clutching my bag like a shield.

Emily turns back, practically glowing. “Eva, you remember Liam, right?”

“Of course,” I say, offering a smile.

Liam grins, his easy charm making me instantly more comfortable. “Eva, it’s great to see you again. Emily’s been excited you were joining us.”

“I bet,” I say with a teasing look to my girl.

Then it happens.

My eyes shift, and lock on him.

He’s standing a little behind Liam, silent and watching, his towering frame impossible to miss. Dark eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the whole lodge disappears.

I know who he is. Everyone knows who Eli Jackson is. The Portland Blades’ star defenseman. The Blizzard. The guy who could body-check an entire football team without breaking a sweat.

And he’s looking at me like… like I’m a mug of hot cocoa after a long day walking in the snow.

I blink, breaking the connection. My cheeks heat, and I turn back to Emily, who’s too busy kissing her husband to notice the silent standoff happening a few feet away.

When their mouths finally disconnect, Liam clears his throat. “Eli, come say hi.”

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 to meet 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?