The odds aren’t in your favor
Me
Good. I like it that way. It makes winning that much sweeter
Unknown
Safe word is pineapple
Chapter Four
Knox
“This is probably one of the most outlandish things you have ever suggested we do,” I mutter, watching as Jagger practically bounces with excitement.
“It’s what she wants, Knox. She literally asked for it.”
“And what happens when she finds out it’s us?” I fire back.
“He has a point,” Riven quips as he joins us. “She wants this, and who are we to turn her down?”
I shake my head. “You guys are taking this too lightly.”
“Am I?” Jagger replies. “Because I’ve been texting with her all week, and trust me, she’s interested.”
“You’ve been what?!”
“Texting. Flirting. Sexting. You know, normal interactions between two people.” He waves his phone at me. “And she hasn’t blocked my number, so that’s something.”
“Jesus Christ, Jagger.” I run a hand through my hair. “You’re going to get us all arrested.”
“Relax. She has a safe word.”
“A safe word?” Riven sounds amused. “What is this, Fifty Shades of Fucking Hockey?”
“Pineapple,” Jagger says, ignoring Riven’s comment. “If things get too much and she says pineapple, we back off.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “You established a safe word with Levi and Landon Kane’s little sister?”
“Hey, safety first.” He shrugs. “Besides, it was her idea. Something about being fucked in the ass with a pineapple, whichIdecided was not a good idea.”
I hesitate because although I hear the words he is saying, I don’t want to derail my chances at the NHL because he wants to revenge-fuck her.
“She’s a Kane,” Jagger adds, like he knows exactly what button to push.
If it were anyone else’s sister, it wouldn’t be so tempting. But the Kane brothers have been thorns in our sides for years. Every game, every god-damn interview, they act like they’re God’s gift to hockey. The chance to get under their skin through their precious little sister is almost too tempting to pass up.
“Fine,” I say, adjusting my mask. “But if this goes sideways, I’m blaming both of you.”
“It won’t go sideways,” Jagger says confidently. “Danny owes me big for those playoff tickets I got him. He’ll keep the building secure.”
“And the security cameras?” I ask.
Riven holds up a small device. “I looped the recording. It’s a twenty-minute cycle of empty hallways.”
Of course he’s already thought of that; Riven plans everything. The athletic center is shut down for the day, dark except for a few emergency lights. It’s past ten on a Sunday night, well after closing time. The parking lot is empty except for one car in the far corner.
“That’s Levi’s car,” Jagger says, pointing to the truck. “Told you she’d be here.”
