She laughed, but the sound was short-lived, cut off by a sharp knock at the door.
“Someone’s popular,” I murmured.
Wren called, “Come in,” already distracted again, glancing at her phone. But it wasn’t a player or another member of staff at the door, it was a delivery guy with a slim black box and an apologetic expression.
“Uh… these are for Wren Foster?”
She frowned. “That’s me.”
He held the box out like it might bite him. “They’re from… a Rylan?”
Her whole body stilled.
I took the box from the guy, who lookedveryready to leave, and dropped a tip into his hand without breaking eye contact. When the door shut behind him, I looked down at the box, then back at her.
“You want me to toss it?”
Her lips parted, but nothing came out.
I opened it slowly. Long-stemmed, blood-red roses. Twelve of them. No card.
I didn’t speak.
Not for a long moment.
Butsomethingdark and cold unspooled in my chest, threading through the edges of my calm. I wasn’t angry that she got flowers. I wasn’t jealous. I wasaware.
The timing wasn’t romantic, because as Wren herself would say, it wasstrategic.
That prick knew exactly what kind of message roses from him would send to her, to anyone else who might scent them.
She reached for the box, but I stopped her with a hand on her wrist. Gently. No pressure. Just a question.
“You want these?” I asked softly.
She hesitated. Then shook her head. “No.”
I nodded. Closed the lid. Set it aside—nowhere near her desk.
When she finally looked at me again, something uncertain flashed in her eyes. And that was enough of that. I didn’t give her time to feed her doubts or her worries. I crossed the space between us, leaned in, and brushed a kiss against her temple, then her lips.
“If he thinks he’s still in this game,” I murmured, “he’s an even bigger idiot than we thought.”
Her breath hitched—just slightly.
When I pulled back, she was smiling again. This time, for real. I brushed my knuckles down her cheek. “I’ll take care of these. You eat and take at least ten minutes for yourself.” I didn’t make it an order because our girl did not do orders well. “You need a ride home after work?”
“I don’t know when I’m getting out of here,” she admitted and I smoothed away my frown even as it formed. This was herjob, her work, what she did and respecting that was important. Even when I wanted her to look after herself more.
“Tell you what,” I said, leaning my hip against her desk. “If you’re still here at five and it’s not looking like you’re getting out of here anytime soon, send me a message? I’ll grab dinner and deliver it.”
Lips pursed, she studied me for a moment. “Only if you promise to eat with me.”
“Deal.” I grinned, then pushed away from the desk before I gave into the urge to kiss all her worries away. Her door locked and her desk was really solid. My hard dick was not on board with my thoughtfulness though, it really liked the idea of just messing her up and letting us both get lost in the moment.
Tucking the flower box under my arm, I gave her a little salute as her phone buzzed and she already had it at her ear. “No, I said there will be no interviews until after the first couple of games. The players need to focus…”
She curled her index finger in a wave to me and I let myself out. The moment the door closed, my smile fell away.
