“In the game. Code word?” Callum snickers and I punch him in the biceps. He doesn’t flinch.
“Don’t hurt your hand, Puck Bunny.”
“You two are annoying, you know that? How about you mind your own damn business for a second?”
“Boring. Besides, we’ve made it our life’s mission to watch over yours.”
These two assholes.
My phone buzzes again, a photo of the second delivery filling the screen. Big and pink and very obvious.
Shit.
“Oh. Okay. I see you, Puck Bunny. Who’s the lucky lady?” Weston tips his chin at the phone, the roses in full view.
Callum leans over, getting a better look.
“Shit. That’s at the condos.” Realization spreads over Callum’s face like the sunrise. “You sent roses to Tori.”
“Whoa. Bennett’s down bad for his babysitter.” Weston grins and Callum shakes his head.
“I am not.” I try to sound convincing but fail miserably.
Callum drops his voice lower, leaning in closer to me. “Don’t fuck this up, Bennett. If you break Prince’s daughter’s heart, he’s gonna cut you.”
Like I hadn’t thought of that until now.
“I’m not going to break her heart. Damn. We’re talking, not getting married.”
“Talking or fucking?” Weston tips his head, one brow arched high.
My jaw ticks, prickly irritation rolling through me. “Talking, asshole.”
“Since when does Bennett Steele send flowers to women he’s ‘talking’ to?” Weston air quotes ‘talking’ and the irritation intensifies to anger.
“Drop it, okay? It’s nothing.”
He holds up his palms. “Heard. I won’t bring it up again.”
“Be careful, Benny. Seriously.” Callum’s eyes flick to mine. “You’re already on Prince’s short list.”
My chest tightens. My brothers are right.
But there’s no way in hell I’m following their very solid advice.
“Sure.” I grip my bag and hustle out of the locker room, even more determined to do exactly what they just warned me not to.
CHAPTER 21
TORI
I’m in the middle of a tense ROI call with investors when there’s a knock at the door. I hold up a finger, pausing the conversation. Hopefully it’s the delivery man with the overpriced salad I panic-ordered for lunch in between meetings. I’ve been so wrapped up with work and hockey, I haven’t had time to shop, let alone cook.
I rush to the door and fling it open. No one. Glancing down, I spot a gigantic bouquet of pink roses. They’re gorgeous and did I mention oversized?
Bending down, I hoist up the heavy vase and kick the door closed behind me. Staggering to the island, I carefully set the roses down next to the all-white floral arrangement from this morning. Both big and showy and beautiful. I stare at the flowers for a second, then pluck out the card. Smiling, I hurry back to the desk and slide into my chair, clicking the headset back on.
“Sorry — back. Where were we?” One of the investors rattles off assumptions and I try to focus on the data.
