Page 15 of Bliss

“Of course, Aunt Em.”

“Keep it that way,” she warned before turning her green eyes on Noah, whom she’d never met, as far as I was aware. “Ah, Coach Kavanaugh. I’ve heard so many good things about you. Mostly from my husband, and whatever they are saying about you on ESPN every day, but good, nonetheless.”

Whether either of us was ready for it or not, this was a part of the test I needed Noah to pass. If he couldn’t handle my family’s matriarch, there was no way we’d survive as a couple.

“Aunt Emmie, Noah is my date,” I informed her, and I held my breath as I waited for whatever came next.

She didn’t even blink as she turned her attention back to the man who rose to his feet. Emmie Armstrong was small in size, but the energy around her was always larger-than-life. Seeing her standing beside a man as tall as Noah was like seeing a kitten in front of an elephant.

Only this particular kitten was a hundred times scarier than the elephant.

Emmie sized up Noah in that way that always seemed to see beyond the surface and straight into a person’s soul. Her ability to read people was eerie. I’d never known of an instance when she’d been wrong about a person. It wasn’t as simple as her knowing whether they were good or bad. She could find their weaknesses, their fears, and their strengths. And despite her ability to read people, she never failed to get independent confirmation, having anyone who tried to get close to any member of our family thoroughly investigated to ensure they couldn’t hurt the people she loved most.

It never ended well for the ones who thought they could harm anyone who lived inside Emmie’s heart.

That I’d hidden my relationship with Noah back in college was a miracle. If she’d caught so much as a whiff that I was in a relationship with an assistant coach, she would have crushed his career aspirations. Not because of the age gap between us or that he’d been on the faculty at my school. She would have destroyed his whole world because he’d demolished me.

Noah’s hand spread over the small of my back, his palm warm and soothing. He gave me another one of those lingering, hungry looks before shifting his light gaze to my aunt and offering his hand. “A pleasure, Mrs. Armstrong.” He glanced at Nik, shaking his hand as well. “Mr. Armstrong.”

“Well, this evening just got more interesting,” Emmie murmured, a hint of a smile teasing at her lips before she blanked her face again. “Are Drake and Lana aware of this date?”

“I’m sure they are after the millions of pictures that must already be circulating of us from earlier,” I said dryly. “No doubt they will call before the night is over.”

“No doubt,” she agreed. “I’ll be on standby if anyone needs me.”

“Baby girl, I just spotted Hawkins. Let’s take our seats before he gets over here and you get stuck talking business for the next hour.” Nik took his wife’s hand, winked at me, nodded to Noah and then Evan, before saying goodbye to everyone else at the table. “We’re nearby if you need us,” he told me.

Retaking our seats, I slowly released the breath I’d been holding. Evan leaned forward, his eyes on Noah. “Coach, you have about ten minutes before Aunt Em knows your full life story. If there’s anything that might give her a reason to bury you alive, start running now.”

“Shut up, Evan,” I growled.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just trying to warn the man. That woman has more connections than any other person in this room. Combined. You better be serious about Bliss, dude. Because if you break her heart, they will never find your body. At least not all of it. There’s a minuscule chance of recovering the random rib or finger.”

I couldn’t argue with him on that since not a single part of what he said was untrue.

Harlem chuckled, thinking Evan was exaggerating. “You’ve got a wild imagination, kid. We never have a dull moment with you on the team.”

Xaden clapped Evan on the back. “Yeah, we’ve got a real shot at getting through the finals this year with Cutter and now Coach K. I can’t wait for us to be on the court together, boy.”

“Christ, Hawkins is working his way over here quicker than I thought he would,” the GM muttered. “I say we get some socializing done now so we don’t have to listen to that long-winded bastard until dinner is served.”

“Good idea.” Xaden stood, along with Evan and Shaya. “Harlem, let me introduce you to one of our legacy season ticket holders. I see him seated a few tables over with his wife. Evan, let Shaya help you make the rounds. My girl knows who needs extra attention and who to avoid.”

“But, Dad—” Shaya started to argue.

“The boy needs someone to make him look more approachable, darlin’. That’s not me.” He nudged Evan’s arm. “You two go on now before Ted reaches us, or you’ll be stuck listening to him go on and on about how you should be a cheerleader or some other bullshit that makes me want to punch his teeth down his throat.”

With a heavy exhale, Shaya grabbed Evan by the elbow. “Fine, let’s get this crap over with.”

“Play nice, kids,” Xaden called after them.

I stared up at my friend with wide eyes. “Are you punishing your daughter or something?”

“Nope,” Xaden said with a sly grin. “I’m doing a little experiment to see if I’m right about something.”

“Sounds like cruel and unusual punishment to me, but she’s your kid.”

Laughing, he followed Harlem toward another table. Beside me, Noah leaned closer. “What would you like to do, meleğim? Mingle, dance, maybe peruse the silent auction?”