Page 30 of Make Me Yours (Chicago Railers Hockey #1)

STEELE

W e pull up to Gold Coast Table, the rooftop restaurant where we’re meeting my cousin and his wife. It’s one of Lilah’s favorite spots with one of the best views in all of Chicago. I booked it on purpose, hoping the setting would ease some of the strain still lingering between us.

The valet takes the car, and I round to her side, holding out my hand.

As soon as we touch, a spark zips through my fingertips.

We ride the elevator up in silence, the ambient music doing little to drown out my worries. Her perfume lingers in the air, subtle and warm, and I have to stop myself from leaning closer and inhaling a big breath of her.

When the metal doors slide open, we’re greeted by a wash of golden light and the low buzz of conversations. It’s the kind of place that slows time and makes the world feel smaller. More intimate.

I keep my hand at the small of her back as we walk, guiding her through the maze of white tablecloths and flickering candles. I probably shouldn’t touch her like this until she gives me her answer .

But I can’t seem to help myself.

I’ve waited too damn long for her.

And I really hope tonight changes everything.

The hostess leads us to a table near the railing where Bridger and Holland are already waiting, tucked into one of the best spots on the patio. Fairy lights twinkle overhead, casting a subtle glow across the table. Portable heaters hum, warming the crisp evening air.

Bridger rises with a grin and pulls me into a quick hug. “Good to see you, man. It’s been way too long.”

“We’ve missed you two.” I clap him on the back before leaning down to kiss Holland’s cheek. “You look amazing. Everything good with the baby?”

Beaming, the redhead rests her hand over her bump. “She’s doing great.”

“She?” Lilah asks, her voice touched with surprise.

Bridger nods, pride written in every line of his face. “Yup, found out last week. It’s official, we’re having a girl.”

I glance at Lilah. Her smile is tender, but there’s something behind it.

Something quiet and aching.

Longing, maybe.

Or maybe not, and I’m totally misreading it.

But it settles in my chest anyway as I imagine her swollen with our child.

Fuck.

My hands linger a beat too long on her shoulders before I pull out her chair. When she sits, I drop down on the one beside her, and my thigh brushes lightly against hers under the table.

“I’m glad you were able to make it into town,” I say to my cousin. “Will you be here long enough to catch a game?”

Bridger shakes his head. “Wish I could, but we’ve got an investors’ meeting Friday morning. Maybe next time, when you’re playing Mav or Hayes. I wouldn’t mind watching you hand them a good beating.”

“Yeah, we don’t get together like we used to,” I say with a chuckle.

Holland sighs. “Everyone’s scattered now. Careers. Families. It’s harder to keep up.”

The waiter arrives, and I order for both of us out of habit.

Espresso martini for Lilah and a beer for me.

She doesn’t question it. Just smiles like she’s still not used to being taken care of. Like it surprises her that someone remembers what she likes.

Conversation flows easily as we trade memories and laugh over ridiculous moments from college, slipping into a rhythm that feels effortless.

Familiar.

My hand finds the back of Lilah’s chair, and when my fingers brush her shoulder, she doesn’t flinch or pull away.

That simple touch anchors me.

It always has.

And I’m pretty sure it does the same for her.

She laughs at one of Bridger’s stories, the sound carefree as her eyes crinkle with humor. That’s all it takes for something inside me to twist. I want to be the reason she smiles like that.

Every damn day.

More than that, I want to erase every memory of Devon fucking Peterson for making her feel like she wasn’t enough.

Because the truth?

She was always way too good for him.

And the fact that she questions her own worth because that asshole couldn’t keep his dick in his pants?

I’d like to find him and make sure he knows exactly what he lost.

For now, I’m content to just sit beside her, our shoulders brushing, my fingers tracing circles across her skin as I watch her come back to life. I hope like hell I’m the one she chooses when she’s ready to let someone in.

I’m not sure she even realizes the way she leans into my touch as the four of us continue talking.

But I sure as hell do.

When it comes to her, I notice every little detail.

“I need to use the restroom,” Holland says, rising from her chair with a mischievous smile. Her gaze slides to Lilah. “Want to join me? That way I can grill you in private about your current living situation.”

The corners of Lilah’s lips lift. “Is that really necessary?”

Holland’s already turning toward the restaurant. “Oh, you bet it is.”

Lilah groans before standing and smoothing her dress as she follows. I don’t realize how long I’ve been staring until Bridger lets out a low, amused chuckle.

“Good to know nothing’s changed on that front,” he says, swirling his whiskey like the smug bastard he is.

I drag my gaze away from the door. “What front?”

He snorts. “When are you finally going to man up and tell Lilah how you feel?”

My fingers tighten around my bottle. “I’m working on it.”

“Working on it?” He laughs. “Dude, this has been going on since college. At the rate you’re moving, you’ll be in a retirement home by the time she figures it out.”

I take a pull from my beer, ignoring the heat that creeps up my neck.

Bridger leans back in his chair, still grinning. “Look, I get it. She’s gorgeous, smart, and funny. Way too good for you, obviously.”

I huff out a laugh. “Obviously.”

“If you don’t do something soon, someone else is going to. You remember what happened a few years back? She was single, you hesitated, and some other guy swooped in before you could make a move.”

The memory hits like a punch to the ribs.

I haven’t forgotten.

Not even for a second.

The thought of her with someone else now?

It makes my stomach churn.

“That’s not going to happen this time,” I say, tone hard.

Bridger watches me for a beat before nodding. “Good. I love you, man. I just want to see you happy. And you and I both know… for you, that’s Lilah.”

He’s not wrong.

It’s always been her.

Before I can respond, the restaurant doors swing open again, and Lilah steps back into the light. Holland is beside her, still chatting, but she’s the only thing I’m cognizant of.

The breeze lifts her hair, and in that short black dress, with the muted glow of candlelight catching in her eyes, she’s a fucking vision.

Enough to bring any man to their knees.

I don’t even try to hide the way I look at her.

She slides back into the seat beside me, and my hand instinctively finds her knee under the table. She tenses for the briefest moment but doesn’t pull away.

That’s all the encouragement I need.

My fingers flex against her warm skin, and even through the noise of conversation and clinking glasses, my focus narrows to just this.

Her.

My cousin, of course, can’t resist the opportunity to needle me.

“So,” he says casually, “how long do you think you’ll play house with this guy?”

Lilah raises her glass, taking a sip of her espresso martini. “ I’m not sure. Hopefully not too long. I’ve been checking out apartments online.”

Excuse me?

She glances over at me when my hand tightens on her knee.

“He’s been great,” she adds. “But I don’t want to keep cramping his style.”

A growl builds in my chest. “You’re not cramping anything. You can stay as long as you want. Hell, you can stay forever.”

Her lips part as her eyes widen.

It’s almost a surprise when she doesn’t argue.

Bridger leans forward, clearly loving this. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about cramping his style. Steele hasn’t had a girlfriend in—what is it now? Three years?”

I shoot him a glare. “It’s been a while.”

My cousin laughs.

Fucker.

He knows exactly how long it’s been.

And the reason for it.

Holland rolls her eyes. “Behave, Bridger. Or next time, the kids are babysitting you.”

I take a moment to steady myself, trying to rein all the emotion back in. “Besides, how can Lilah move out when Waffles is just getting comfortable?”

Bridger frowns. “Who’s Waffles?”

“Our kitten,” Lilah says with a small smile. “Steele brought her home a few weeks ago.”

Bridger looks between us with interest. “You two have a cat? How’s that going to work down the road?”

“Shared custody,” I say smoothly. “Weekends and holidays are negotiable.”

Bridger whistles. “Wow. You two really are doing this whole thing backward.”

The table bursts into laughter, and the conversation veers off into lighter territory, but the tension between me and Lilah doesn’t fade.

It continues to simmer, low and steady, thickening in the air with every glance, every touch.

And it’s getting harder to hold back.

After dessert, Bridger’s phone buzzes. One glance at the screen has him muttering an apology before answering. A moment later, he slips the cell into his pocket with a faint smile.

“Sitter’s checking in,” he says, rising to his feet. “Looks like it’s time for us to head home.”

Holland stands as well. “Thank you for dinner. We needed a night like this.”

There’s a round of hugs and goodbyes, easy laughter, and promises to get together again soon. Then Bridger slings an arm around Holland’s waist, and the two disappear into the night, leaving behind the echo of a perfect evening.

Lilah moves to the railing and gazes out over the skyline, her hands resting lightly on the iron bar. The breeze toys with the hem of her dress as her long blonde hair slips over her shoulders.

She looks so fucking gorgeous it hurts. An ache coils low in my gut. All I want to do is slide my arms around her from behind and press my lips to the gentle curve of her neck, finally confessing everything I’ve kept buried for years.

I keep telling myself she needs time.

That I have to be patient.

But I don’t know how much longer I can do that.

Because I’m scared my cousin’s right. That if I don’t step up soon, someone else will. Some other guy will see the amazing qualities I do, and he’ll say what I haven’t, and take her before I ever get the chance.

I can’t let that happen.

Not again.

I’m being pulled in two directions .

Because I know the truth deep in my bones. Once I have her, I’ll never let go. There’s no pulling back. No pretending we’re just friends.

I want Lilah Monroe.

Not just for tonight.

Not just for tomorrow.

But for every damn day after.