𝅘𝅥𝅮 𝄠 Let Me Blow Your Mind – Eve, Gwen Stefani
THE DOOR’S unlocked when I get back to my apartment. The only reason I don’t freak out is because Ludvig is behind me. Then, the knob twists and the door pulls in to reveal Kow.
I was supposed to stay at my place again tonight, but when I shove past him and find Trent and Noah sitting on my couch as well, I forget about charging my dying phone or the fact I’m supposed to text Liam once I arrive home—I’m just tempted to turn around and leave.
I don’t even have to ask how they got in.
My bodyguards.
Makes sense now that I think about it—Ludvig didn’t exactly panic when the door opened, did he?
Making it a top priority to fire anyone who’s a hockey fan on mine and Liam’s security detail, I slam the door in the asshole’s face.
“Why do you have bodyguards?’ Noah asks.
“Why do you care?” His eyes widen but, ignoring him as I drop my bags to the side, I snap, “How did you even know who to bribe?”
It’s not like we advertise who our security is.
“Bribe?” Kow rolls his eyes. “That’s coming on a little strong—”
I hiss out a breath. “Andrews.” Liam’s agent, as well as Kow’s and Trent’s. “He told you.”
“Calm down, Gracie. It’s not a big deal.” Maybe not to my baby brother. “Seriously, though, why do you have bodyguards?”
‘Why don’t you ask Andrews? Seeing as he has all the answers,” I snap at Noah before demanding, “Have you seen Liam?”
“No, why would we have seen him? We’re not talking,’ Kow mutters as he leans forward, elbows on his knees, casting a serious expression my way. ‘Because of you.’
‘You sure he wants to talk to you after that stunt you pulled in Winnipeg?’ At his dismissive sniff, I try again, “Liam doesn’t hang out here.”
“We didn’t come to New York for him,” Noah grouses. “We’re here to see you.”
“Breaking into my apartment kind of gave that away but before I got my hopes up, I wanted to check,” I retort as I retreat into my kitchen.
Only to find a pig sty.
“You assholes,” I snarl. “Look at the mess you left behind!”
Trent calls out, “You had nothing in the refrigerator.”
“Haven’t you heard of trash cans? And if you ordered in, did you bother to get me anything?”
“We’re not animals,” Noah complains. “There are some leftovers in the fridge.”
“There better be,” I warn.
When I find a cold Vietnamese noodle salad, I stop huffing and snag a fork and dig in as I riffle through the bags of takeout in there.
Shit must be bad if they’re eating out, though.
Kow’s shadow darkens the archway that acts as a divider between the kitchen and my poky living room. “Mom called.”
So that’s why they’re here.
“I have one of my first exams tomorrow and you pick tonight to come and bitch at me about a conversation that happened with our mother a while ago, Kow?” I demand, hefting my ass onto the counter because that way, we’re at the same level.
There’s nothing worse than always looking up at someone during an argument—the curse of being short.
“This was the first time we could all make it into the city,” Noah excuses, shouldering past Kow who’s still leaning against the aperture.
Trent also pushes his way in and takes a seat at the kitchen table.
The apartment’s never been spacious, but now, these hockey hulks are taking up far too much of my oxygen.
“So, this is on your schedule not mine. Got it.” More like they all got tossed out of the playoffs. “My exams are important. If you think I’m going to waste time getting stressed about your reason for being here, you can walk out the door and come back when my finals are over.”
Kow frowns. “You told Mom that you were cutting the lines of communication with her.”
“You actually spoke with her long enough to find that out, hmm?” I inquire, entwining noodles around my fork before I shove it in my mouth. “Shame it’s old news. Like pre-playoffs old. Back when each of you were still in with a shot of winning the cup…”
His top lip curls into a sneer. “It’s all she’s been able to talk about since it happened. You hurt her, Gracie.”
“I didn’t know I was capable of doing that, to be honest,” I muse, hunting for a peanut and chomping on it. “Go me.”
“Gracie!” Trent chides, his voice deep and low.
“What?”
“That’s needlessly mean.”
More like she was.
“I don’t think it is. I thought my response was an intuitive reaction to the tenor of our conversation—”
“Stop talking like a lawyer!”
“Sorry to disappoint, Kow, but Cornell says you can suck my donkey dick because they awarded me with a juris doctorate,” I retort. “And if that’s too confusing for you, it’s Latin for ‘fuck you.’”
“Look, you hurt Mom’s feelings,’ Noah rebukes. “We’re here to get you to apologize so that she’ll stop bitching about it to us.”
“Then you might as well leave now. I’m not saying sorry for something that she’s to blame for.” I stab my fork at him. “In her opinion, I’m not good enough for Liam.”
Kow shrugs. “Let’s face it. You’re not, are you?”
Each word winds me, acting like a slap to the face that amplifies every single insecurity I possess.
Because, deep down, I want to cry, instead, I blink at him. “Here was me thinking that maybe you guys meant it when you said you were defending my honor on the ice…”
“You’re you, Gracie. You’re difficult and outspoken. Liam needs someone who’ll put his career first.”
“If you weren’t standing over there, I would stab you with this fork.”
But my other brothers are nodding at me like they’re in total accord with Kow, the dumbest of our siblings.
“Liam doesn’t feel the same way. Or do you think I tied him to the bed until he agreed to date me?”
They don’t know me well enough anymore to recognize that the gruffness in my voice stems from the tears I refuse to shed.
First time I’ve seen them in years outside of on the ice and this is their welcome back to the fold…
The fuckers.
Somehow, it’s even worse because this feels like a double blind.
Did I actually like that they were hurting Liam? Did the sister in me feel as if that was proof her brothers cared?
God, that is so messed up.
Hockey—every. Fucking. Time—it turns me into a pick-me cunt.
Unaware of my thoughts, Noah pulls a face. “Talking about tying him to the bed is just plain wrong. You’re like brother and sister.”
“No, we’re not. At all. Not just because I enjoy doing a lot of filthy things with him when I can barely stand being in this kitchen with the three of you,” I snarl.
“Liam needs someone soft and caring,” Noah argues. “Gracie, I love you but that is not you.”
“After the kidnapping, he needs someone who’ll be there for him,” Trent concurs.
And I’m not?
“Funny how I’m hearing this from you three who, at the start of the season, barely called him and who canceled on him whenever he tried to make plans for you to catch up at his place. Do you even realize how small Liam’s circle is?”
“We fly in for the game; we fly out afterward. You know how it goes,” Kow states unapologetically.
“He’s a recluse but you couldn’t make time for him? Hell, you don’t even call and there’s no flight required for that. I think when Liam wanted to talk with you about our relationship, Kow, it took you nearly two weeks to get back to him.”
“We’re busy men, Gracie. We’re not girls,” Noah counters as he riffles through the leftovers. “We don’t need to talk every night to know that we’re buds.”
Because this is getting us nowhere, I settle a stony look on him. “If you need to convince someone that I’m no good for Liam, it’s the man himself and, like I said, he isn’t here.”
“This can’t go anywhere,” Trent tries to placate. “You’re just wasting your time with him, Gracie. We’re doing you a favor by telling you this now. You’re not wife material for a hockey player.”
My brow furrows. “Who said I wanted to marry Liam?”
“Don’t you? Isn’t that what all women want?”
Angrily, I toss the container into the trash. “Not all of us. Look, I get it—you agree with Mom. I, on the other hand, don’t.”
“He skipped her birthday meal because of you,” Noah grinds out. “You know how close they are. Do you think that’s fair? On either of them?”
“After everything that happened, you have to know that’s bad for him,” Trent concurs.
“I told him that he shouldn’t let my issues with Mom affect his relationship with her.” Pursing my lips, I jump down from the counter. “I repeat—you’re having this conversation with the wrong person. You can convince him that I’m bad for him because I’m not listening to this bullshit anymore.”
As I storm through the kitchen, Trent tries to grab my arm to stop me, but I avoid him.
Unfortunately, Kow’s blocking the exit.
“Move,” I snarl. “Or do you want to lose your balls?”
“Not until you listen to reason,” he bites out. “You need to break things off with Liam. He’s clearly not adapting to New York well and you’re taking advantage of him—”
“Fuck. You,” I spit, wishing I were taller so that I could get in his face instead of earning myself a crick in my neck as I glare up at him. “Don’t you dare tell me I’m taking advantage of a man I’ve loved for longer than I can put a number to.
“I’ve dealt with your shit for decades. You’ve ruined my life in so many ways that you can’t even know and if you did, you wouldn’t care. Here I was, thinking that you finally did give a damn, and more fool me because it’s always about YOU. But I’m the dumb one because you told me. You said it was because he broke the bro code and I didn’t fucking listen.
“The crazy thing is you’ve not only stolen friendships from me, but I have no identity because of you and now you’re trying to take Liam from me as well.
“You’ve robbed me of every single win I’ve ever had because it’s nothing in comparison to your achievements, to the point where I had to leave my home, my country, to get away from YOU. To make a space for myself. To be somewhere I’m not continually compared to you when I’m three times the friend, confidante, and partner any of you will ever be—”
“God, stop with the whining, Gracie,” Kow growls. “So, what? I fucked a few of your friends! What does it matter? It’s only sex!”
It’s a miracle steam isn’t coming out of my ears.
A few?!
Meaning more than Charlotte?
Ignoring him like he didn’t speak, I continue, “You come into my home, invade my space to tell me that I’m not good enough for a man who I make happy, who I bring peace to, who I make smile. Well, you can do your own dirty work because I’m not dumping him.”
“You’ve got some nerve, Gracie,” Trent rumbles. “He’s been off his game—”
“So off his game that he’s led the Stars to the playoffs for the first time in years. Unlike three Bukowskis I know…,” I mock. “You’re the ones who are out of line. You think you’re here to defend your bud, but you’re not.
“We’re an item—I won’t break things off with him, so he’ll have to dump me. And I won’t say sorry to Mother either.” I stab my finger at Kow. “You’ve just added yourself to the incommunicado list because if I don’t hear any of your fucking names for a decade, it’ll be too soon.”
With that, I put every ounce of force into it as I shove Kow out of the way.
Because he didn’t expect me to be strong enough, he staggers back. I head for the door, leaving them to deal with securing my apartment seeing as Ludvig will have gone home now.
At this point, I’m so mad that I don’t care if they abandon it unlocked.
Of the many offensive things they said, I’m mostly furious about the fact that the first time I verbalized my feelings for Liam, I didn’t tell him those words. I wasted them on the three men who didn’t deserve to hear them.
I race out of the building, unsure if they’ll come after me, and only when I’m on the street do I let the tears flow as I run down the block and away from them. Hell, away from everyone.
Turning into an alleyway, stopping at the mouth for safety because I’m upset, not an idiot, I sniffle into the lily I tucked in my pin this morning. The bunch was waiting in the passenger seat when Harvey, my other bodyguard, came to pick me up for school.
My thoughts are racing and the urge to sob is growing stronger as that scent permeates every inhalation I take.
All I want to do is call Liam but…
I can’t.
If I do, he’ll react to the sound of my grief and that will make everything devolve.
I can’t deal with that.
Not when a lifetime’s insecurities of never being enough are starting to worm their way inside of me.
“Liam’s different.” I practically snarl the words to myself as I swipe at my cheeks. “They’re wrong. I know they are. H-He won’t… They can’t convince him to leave me.”
But, like always, the three nightmares the stork brought to darken my door have already worked their insidious magic.
The fear is there and it’s real.
Sucking down air to calm my agitation, I snag my cell from my pocket and groan when I see there’s only 1% of my battery remaining.
Realizing I ran out of my place without any of my stuff, including the power bank or Liam’s business phone, I know my options are limited.
Thankfully, I have some juice to message someone who has enough distance from the situation to not judge either side.
Someone who, might possibly, be a friend one day.
If I can let her in long enough to trust her…
Me: Aela?
Then, because Liam will think I’ve been freakin’ kidnapped if I don’t loop him in, I message:
Me: Everything’s fine. I just have some shit I need to talk through with a girlfriend.
Relief hits me when Aela replies:
Aela: Hey!
Me: Do you mind if I come around for a coffee?
Me: I wouldn’t ask but I really need to go somewhere neutral.
Me: My brothers basically just told me I’m ruining Liam’s life, game, and everything in between. I can’t be where they are, and they’re probably on their way to Liam’s apartment.
Aela: Assholes. They need to keep their noses out of other people’s business.
Aela: This is my address.
I’m lucky I’ve got a good memory because as I step outside of the alley, my focus is more on her address than the sidewalk so when someone bumps into me, my phone goes flying.
Already battered and repaired from Ollie stomping on it, it gives up the ghost.
Fuck.
