I could plow through the rest of my food and bolt upstairs. But then I’d risk leaving Tori alone with my brothers.
What could go wrong?
Instead, I take a deep breath and hope for the best.
“So, Tori — how’s it going?” Weston turns on his captain charm, his tone saccharin sweet. Like he’s fooling anybody.
“Very well, thank you.” She unfolds her napkin andplaces the white cloth over her lap. “Are you ready for the game tomorrow?”
“Absolutely. I enjoy away games. Lots of opportunity to rest and recharge. Not as many distractions as back home, you know?” He arches a brow at her, popping a piece of broccoli in his mouth.
She nods, giving him a wan smile. “Right. Makes sense. Especially after all the distractions during pre-season.” Tori glances directly at Harbor and Weston shifts uncomfortably in his chair.
Sent.
Tori fucking delivered.
My mouth twitches, and I’m equally impressed and turned on. Weston clears his throat and stares at his plate, suddenly fascinated by his mashed potatoes.
Across the table, Tori lifts her water glass like she didn’t just drop a grenade.
Calm and composed. But with a spark dancing in her eyes.
And it hits me right then and there — I’m fucked.
CHAPTER 26
BENNETT
Dinner was rough. Weston wouldn’t stop heckling me, Callum gave me the goalie death stare, then Tori showed up looking like an off-limits finance goddess. Now I’m keyed up — exactly what you don’t want before game day.
During the season, I respect my sleep routine. Meaning I stretch, shower, and go lights out by ten pm before a game.
But right now, my entire body’s humming. I strip out of my quarter-zip and jeans, throw on a pair of gym shorts. Then I grab my foam roller and try to roll out my calves, my quads. But they’re tight as fucking rubber bands, same as every other muscle in my damn body.
I massage up and down my calf with the roller, trying to ease the tension.
Knock, knock, knock.
Three light taps at the door.
Too quiet to be my brothers. No muffled voice identifying hotel staff.
Hopping up from the carpeted floor, I hurry over and peer through the peephole.
Tori.
And she’s alone.
Breaking her own rules.
“Hey.” I lean into the hall, scanning first to the left, then to the right. All clear.
“Curfew check.” Her words come out controlled, professional.
Her eyes are anything but.
Dark and dangerous, she stares up at me through lowered lashes.
