Several hours later, we’re standing in Printer’s Alley after midnight looking every bit as clueless as we feel. Or at least, as clueless as I feel. Eli’s just here for the free booze I’ve promised him, and a show.
“So, you know where she lives, right?”
I grimace. “Not exactly.”
“What? Dude, how the fuck do you expect to find her if you don’t have her number and you don’t know where she lives?”
“I don’t know, I thought maybe we could get one of those maps to the stars’ houses or some shit.”
“You know it’s not Hollywood, right?”
“Do you ever use your mouth for anything useful?”
“I do lots of useful shit with my mouth. Just ask the puck bunnies.” He frowns when I glare at him. “Hey, excuse me,” he says, stopping a group of women who’re wearing penis headbands, and very skimpy dresses. “Hi.”
“Hi,” says a hot blonde with a fluffy pink veil.
“Oh my god, you're you!” a sweet-faced brunette says.
“Yep, and you’re you.” Eli grins. I roll my eyes.
The woman points to me with a shocked expression and a shaking hand. “And you’re . . .” Her words trail off in an ear-piercing screech.
“Are you guys famous or something?” a bored blonde standing off to the side asks.
“Or something,” I say. I'm not being cute. I just have no intention of spending time with strange women when I came here to find Stella.
“No! I’d know you guys anywhere,” the sweet-faced girl says. “You’re Eli Boucher and Van Ross.”
Eli could blind astronauts in space with the smile he gives her. “We are. You know your hockey, eh?”
“I’m a huge fan.” She shakes her head. “I mean, I’m a Nashville girl first, sorry, but the Crushers are my next favorite team.”
“Well, you just made us the next happiest guys on the face of the planet.” He actually fucking winks at her.
“I can’t believe you’re standing in front of me right now.” She beams, her face turning beet red. “Hey, can I get a picture?”
“Sure, but you gotta do us a favor first, sweetheart.”
“Anything.”
Eli raises his brows. “You hear that, Ross? The lady will do anything.”
I glare at my best friend and decide I need to be the one to hurry this along. “Do you know where Stella Hart lives?”
“Oh, you came here for her, even after she called you a mistake?” She presses her hand to her heart and smiles. “That’s the most romantic thing ever.”
“Was she crazy? Look at this guy,” the woman in the bride-to-be sash squeezes my forearm, and I frown because no matter how many random women do this, I still never can get used to being treated like a piece of meat. Though, I guess it’s not that far from what the bunnies do.
“Do you know where she lives?”
“Isn’t she out at Brentwood?”
“Great. Don’t suppose you know where that is, eh?”
“Oh, it’s like eleven miles from here.”
I scrub a hand over the back of my neck. “Ah, shit.”
“Listen, we’re here on pretty urgent business, and we have to get back before our coach knows we’ve gone missing. Is there any chance you ladies have a car and want to drive us? We’d totally appreciate it. We’d throw you season tickets.”
I glare at Eli as if he’s lost his mind. He shrugs, and then sends me a pointed look as if saying, “Do you want to find her or not?” He’s right. I’d much rather just hire a car and try and find Brentwood on our own, but we’re pressed for time, and there don’t seem to be many cabs around.
“Please?” I beg the girls. “I’m desperate.”
“Oh, my god, that’s so sweet. I wish I had a man who would do that for me,” the bride-to-be says, and I make a face.
“Your fiancé wouldn’t do that for you?”
“No.” She pouts. “He’s kind of a douche.”
“Why are you marrying him them?”
“He’s okay for a first husband.” She shrugs, and Eli and I share a look. I hope the poor bastard knows what he’s getting into.
“Come on. I’m designated driver. I’ll take you there, but when you guys get married, I want an invite to the wedding.”
“Done,” I say at the same time that Eli says, “Whoa, marriage? He’s gotta get her to take him back first.”
The blonde loops her arm through mine and sets off down the street. “Well, if she doesn’t, you can be my second husband.”
“Thanks.” I raise my brows and as inconspicuously as possible, slip my arm from hers, and fall into step beside our driver. “Hey, what’s your name?”
“Oh, I’m Caitlyn. This is Stacey.” She points to the bride and the rest of her hens. “And that’s Liis and Camille.”
“Van and Eli,” Eli says.
“We know,” Caitlyn squeaks. There’s something about her that’s kind of endearing, in that uber-charged fangirl way.
Fifteen minutes later, Stacey snaps yet another picture and uploads it to Instagram, and I know we’re fucked once Coach finds out that we took an impromptu trip to Nashville, Tennessee. He’s going to kick our asses when we get back, but it will be worth it. I thought about asking them to delete the pictures, but what the hell is the point? It’s going to be everywhere come morning anyway. I just hope I can get to Stella before she sees them. If she sees them. She’s probably blocked all mention of me on social media sites, but I don’t want her thinking I’m partying it up now that she’s gone. Far from it.
“So, any of you girls know exactly where Stella lives?”
Silence falls over the Jeep and they all look at one another.
“Nope.”
“Can we Google it?”
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure she falls into that celebrity category that doesn’t like people knowing where she lives. Not like hockey players. You guys invite people over all the time to raging parties, right?”
“Er. He does.” I point to Eli. “Not me though.”
“Van lives like a hermit in the woods.”
“Oh yeah. I think I saw that in the pictures of you beating up that paparazzi,” Liis says. “Nice ass, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I deadpan and shoot a glare at Eli, who just shrugs. It takes some investigative work, but when we reach what we believe is Stella’s house to my surprise it’s not in a gated community, but it’s Stella all over. Or at least, it’s the Stella the world knows. It’s not my Stella. Not the woman who slept on my flannel sheets, or the one who seemed perfectly comfortable wearing only a plaid shirt and leggings with no makeup on.
Caitlyn brings the Jeep to a complete stop in front of an intricate wrought-iron gate. I stare at it, wondering how the hell I’m going to get past. I don’t remember Stella saying anything about owning dogs, so I don’t know if I’m going to have my ass chewed off once I climb over.
Eli shoves me. “Don’t puss out on me, Ross. Are you going in or not?”
“Yeah, I’m going.”
“You know, for someone who moved heaven and earth to get here, you sure look like you’re pussing out right now.”
“I’m not pussing out. I’m just . . .” I lick my lips, and stare beyond the gate at the small driveway leading to the house. “What if this is a bad idea?”
“It’s a fucking terrible idea. Are you kidding?” Eli says. “Your ideas always suck, but we’re here. And if I’m going to have my ass chewed out by Coach, we’re at least gonna see your girl.”
“Come on, Van,” Liis says. “She’s going to be so excited to see you. It’s super romantic.”
“Yeah, come on,” the bored brunette, Camille, says. I wasn’t even sure she was aware of her surrounds because she hasn’t looked up from her phone once.
“Oh, my god, if a hockey player showed up at my house in the middle of the night after crossing a million state lines in another country, I’d know it was true love,” Caitlyn crows.
“You guys, I don’t think I want to get married to George anymore,” Stacey warns.
“Oh honey, of course you do,” Camille says. “Have you seen the size of his investment portfolio?”
She sighs. “That’s true, but he wouldn’t travel to another country just to see me.”
And that’s my cue to leave, because if I stay any longer I’ll lose my nerve. I jump out of the Jeep and give Eli a long look. He raises his brows and sets his hands on the bride’s shoulders. “Well, I’ve never been one to break up relationships, but if you suddenly find yourself single, give me a call.”
Their chatter fades as I approach her gate with my heart thundering in my ears. There are hedges either side, but seeing as I don’t know what they’re hiding, I decide to do the only thing a man can do when he shows up to woman’s house uninvited: break and enter.
My shoulder twinges in protest as I climb over the gate and land like a cat on my feet—a very large and powerfully masculine cat, of course. A few minutes later I reach the front door, but before I can lift my hand to knock, an alarm goes off and the whole courtyard is lit up as if it’s broad daylight. Three things happen as I lift my hand to knock. One, Stella shouts from the other side of the door that she has the Nashville police department on the phone. Two, the sound of screeching tires echo through the quiet street toward us, and three, the Jeep takes off in a puff of smoke, roaring up the road as Eli jumps over the gate and lands far more gracefully than I did.
“Stella, it’s me,” I shout, but my voice is drowned out by a small security car shrieking to a stop. Eli melts into the tree line like a fucking ninja and I can only stand there and bang on Stella’s front door, praying that the security guard running towards me through the now open gate isn’t armed with a taser. “Stella, baby, open the door.”
The next thing I know I’m being crash tackled from behind by a linebacker, and I am not a small dude, so it takes some feat to get me down on the ground.
“Ma’am, stay inside,” a voice says by my ear, and I whip my head up to see the door open and light spilling out from inside framing an angel clad in sweats and a tank top, her hair is up and kind of messy.
“Van, what are you doing here?”
“Ma’am, stay back.” The linebacker shoves his knee farther into my spine, and my shoulder screams in protest. “He could have a weapon.”
“No. It’s okay. I know this man.”
“You do?” the guard says, and Eli chooses that moment to casually sidle on up to us as if he was out for a damn nightly stroll.
“Both of them,” she says, glancing between the two of us. It’s then that I notice a fifth and sixth party have joined us from inside the house. One is the angry redhead from Stella’s interview, and the other is a man in his early forties, I’d guess, who’s shoving a fucking camera in my face.
“Hey, tubby. You wanna get the fuck off me?” I say to the linebacker.
Stella nods. “You can let him up.”
I shove off the ground and glare at the security guard whose mouth hangs open once he sees my face. “You’re, you’re—”
“Yeah, jackass, and you’re lucky you’re protecting a woman I care about, or I’d knock you out here on her front doorstep.”
He grimaces and dares another look at Stella. “Ma’am, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, thank you. We’re okay.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Not that I really thought she’d have me carted away, but then I suppose it would only be fair. I did throw her out of my house and force her to leave with a jackass who beat her up. The man with the camera swivels it back and forth between me, Stella, and the security guard
“What the fuck is this? Turn the goddamn camera off before I beat your face in.” I get up in his grill so he has no choice but to lower the device or lose it to my fist.
The cameraman puts his hands up in a placating gesture. “Lana, you said there’d be no more interruptions to filming.”
“Well, I hadn’t counted on a professional athlete showing up, now, had I?” Lana lifts the wine glass in her hand and drains the rest of the contents. “So, unless Mr. Ross here agrees to sign a waiver, I suppose you have to stop.”
“The studio is not going to be happy with this,” he says.
“Well, neither is the doctor who will have to reconstruct your nose, so you choose who’s the bigger bad guy here,” I say. He doesn’t move, though; he just stands there. “You can go now.”
He flinches and attempts to head back inside, but I step in front of him.
“Just leave, Grant. Please?” Stella says.
“But my equipment is inside.”
“And I’m sure you’ll be back bright and early tomorrow to get it.” Lana smiles, and I like to think I’m pretty tough, but the woman is downright scary.
“Fucking hell,” Grant mutters as he stomps down the drive. “They don’t pay me enough for this shit.”
When he’s gone, Stella turns to me. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“Why?”
I reach out and touch her face, but she pulls away. Without makeup on, I can see how bad the bruise is. I’m going to kill that motherfucker. “I didn’t know he hit you. I never would have sent you away with him if I had.”
“Yeah, well, the hitting is new.”
“Listen,” I say, staring at Eli and Lana in the hope that they’ll get the hint and give us some alone time. Apparently, they’re both dense as fuck. “I said some fucked up things, and I’m sorry.”
“Van,” she says.
“I care about you, Stella. A lot”
She shakes her head. “Don’t . . .”
“I’ve never said that to anyone, but I do.”
“It’s true. He hasn’t,” Eli says.
I glare at my best friend. “Can you please fuck off?”
“Right, sorry,” he says and steps away a few paces. A car roars down the road and comes to a screeching halt in front of Stella’s house. “Oh, look. The girls didn’t leave us after all.”
“Girls?” Stella glances at the Jeep and then accusingly back at me. “Who are they?”
“It’s a long story.”
“They helped us find you,” Eli says with an animated expression. I glower at him and he turns away again.
Stella looks confused. “What?”
“It doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. Listen, I watched your interview. Twice, actually. I was an idiot to let you leave with him. I’ve been going out of my mind since you left. I don’t care about that asshole. I don’t give a shit that you lied to me. I just . . .” I run a hand through my hair in frustration. “I want you, country. I want my snuggle bunny back.”
“Jesus,” Eli mutters.
“Dude, shut the fuck up.”
“Sorry. I’m just saying you’re never going to get her back with crap like that.” Eli gives me a meaningful look and shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Well, what the fuck would you say?”
“There is not enough liquor in the world to deal with idiot athletes at this time of night,” Lana says. Jesus, she’s a fucking ballbuster.
Eli smirks and the two share a tense and strangely charged moment, and then he turns his attention back to me and Stella. “I’d probably tell her that you’ve been moping like a little bitch ever since she left.”
I make a pffting sound. “I do not mope. Stella, I—”
“Van, stop.” Stella shakes her head.
“No. I need to get this out.”
“Well I, for one, am going to bed. All this mushy sentiment makes me want to stab someone.” Lana smooths the lapels of her jacket. The ballbuster is dressed in a fucking power suit, after midnight. “I think it’s time for you boys to leave.”
“We haven’t met yet. You’re the manager, right?” I ask, but I know exactly who she is. Lana preens. She holds her hand out to shake, but I ignore it. “The manager who ran Stella into the ground?”
She narrows her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“Van, that’s enough,” Stella says, and I glance between the two of them. “I appreciate you coming all this way, but . . . it was a mistake. Just like I said in the interview.”
“Bullshit. It doesn’t feel like a mistake. It never felt like a mistake.” I scrub a hand down over my face. I wanna hit something. I wanna shout that I know that isn’t true, but I have no desire to frighten her, not after that fuckhead Logan beat her.
Lana sighs. She turns toward the house as if she’s planning on going inside, and it dawns on me. “She put you up to this, didn’t she?”
“Oh, please.” Lana rolls her eyes.
“Hey.” My best friend steps closer, extending his hand to the dragon lady. She practically sneers at it. “I’m Eli Boucher, star forward for the Calgary Crushers.” That isn’t true. But I let him get away with it because I’m otherwise pre-occupied.
“I don’t care,” she says slowly and clearly, as if she’s talking to a child. “Why don’t you run along back to Canada and play with your stick?”
He chuckles. “Canada is an awfully long way away. How ’bout you and I go inside and you can play with my stick right now?”
She inspects her nails, looking every bit the cold-hearted bitch. “I don’t fuck hockey players. I’m smarter than that.”
Stella shoots her a look, and her manager has the good grace to at least appear apologetic. I tune everyone else out and take Stella’s hand. Her gaze darts back to mine. There are tears in her eyes. “Country, baby, I know you know this isn’t right.”
“I don’t know anything right now, Van. I’m a little confused.”
“You’re not confused about me—about us,” I say and pull her closer, but she backs away.
“Who are those girls at the gate? Who were the three women on the radio?”
“I told you, those girls helped us find our way here, and what women on the radio? Stella, I want you.” I gently take her chin between my thumb and forefingers and attempt to bring her closer, but she backs up out of reach.
“Yeah, until we haven’t seen one another in months and a bunny is more accessible.”
“What are you talking about?” I spare a glance at her manager, but she seems to be locked in a heated and very close debate with Eli.
“You should go,” Stella says.
“Stella.”
“Don’t come back here.”
“Stella!” She hurries inside and I attempt to follow, but Lana steps in my way. “Move.”
“She told you to leave. You best do as she asks and remove yourself from her property before you wind up in jail, and I know your coach wouldn’t be happy with that. In fact, I dare say you could get in an awful lot of trouble if he learns that either one of you are down here in Tennessee.”
“You just have to control every little facet of her life, don’t you? Does it make you feel better about your own to know that one day she might be as lonely and bitter as you are?”
Her eyes narrow, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. “Stella is free to date whomever she wants. She’s just not willing to settle for a player. I’ve taught her better than that.”
“I’m not a player,” I say through my teeth.
She arches a brow. “And yet the three women who spoke on live radio about it earlier beg to differ.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You’ll figure it out, lover boy.” She shrugs. “Or not—either way I don’t suppose it matters. You’re done here.”
This is bullshit. I could easily overpower Lana the fucking mega-bitch from hell, stalk inside, throw Stella down on the damn bed and insist that she talk to me. I could demand that she give in and admit that there’s something more here than two weeks of torturous foreplay and a whole week of fucking bliss, but I know after an asshole like Logan that’s not what she needs. She’ll come around. I know as well as she does that this is not a mistake. She’s lying. What I don’t know is why.
With my head pounding and my heart in fucking ruin, I walk away, back to the Jeep. The girl’s faces aren’t hopeful like they were a few minutes ago. The night has most definitely taken a somber turn.
“Boucher, you coming or not?” I yell as I climb in the back. A beat later, he emerges from the driveway looking smarmy. That son of a bitch. I come all this way to get the girl of my dreams back, and that asshole copped a feel of the angry ballbuster? This is bullshit. I wanna be back in my own house, in my bed. The one that smells like Stella because I haven’t washed the sheets since we fucked on them.
My head feels heavy, and all I want to do is just go beat down her door and fall at her feet, have her run her hands through my hair the way she did a few days ago, but I guess that’s totally out of the question right now.
Eli climbs in beside me, and Caitlyn takes off. She’s nice enough to drive us the extra hour to the airport, and after grabbing her email address so we can hook them up with tickets, we catch a red-eye back to Canada.