She glances up at me for the first time since she walked through the door, and all I do is smile as relief fills me. She’s here.
She’s always here when I need her. And I have no idea what the fuck I’d do if she wasn’t.
I inhale slowly, letting my shoulders drop.
“Are you okay?” Keeley waves to get my attention. “You’re scaring me a little.”
Huh? My eyes focus, alerting me to the fact that I’d been staring at her while I contemplated the idea of her one day being gone. “Sorry. I was lost in my head. Thank you for coming. What were you saying?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Her lips lift into the most glorious smile, and I force myself to keep my eyes on hers instead of her mouth.“Anyway, I’m starving. There was a promise of dinner?” She changes the subject, rubbing her stomach for visual effect.
“Yes, there was. I’ll order now. Riccardo’s?”
Keeley raises an eyebrow, her expression stoic until I laugh. “What can I say? I’m kind of obsessed.”
“Are you ready to admit it’s better than any pizza you’ve had in New York?”
“Never.”
“Then I’m ordering. I have a feeling I can change your mind.” She bites her lip with a smirk, and my fucking cock twitches. Until I remember the mention of the owner’s son the last time she ordered.
“I’ll order. Just tell me what I need to get. It’s my turn.”
“What if my order comes with another free bottle of wine?”
That’s exactly why I’m ordering. “I’ve got wine here if we need it.”
“You do?” Keeley’s eyes widen before her gaze darts to the cabinet in the corner of my room. “Since when?”
Since I realized you like a glass or two to wind down.“Someone gave me a few bottles for Christmas. And lucky for you, it’s your favorite.”
“That’s convenient.” She grins, her gaze once again darting to my makeshift bar. The bar I stocked with her drink of choice. Just in case she needed it.
“It is,” I lie. “Anyway, what am I ordering?”
I order the gourmet special that Keeley insisted I try and my usual, just in case, then it’s down to business.
“What can I do for you?” Keeley asks, kicking her shoes off before crossing her legs and leaning back into the cushions. My mind conjures far too many inappropriate responses before settling on the correct answer. “As you’re probably aware, Gregory Winston is releasing a book. Turns out, he wasn’t afan of the Storm culture. Claims the players and staff were ‘not people he wanted his family associated with.’”
Keeley cringes. “I saw it. His views are all over social media. Or should I say his lies? I was here while he was here. There was nothing wrong with our culture. And if there was, it came from him and his sidekick, Tray.”
She tenses when she mentions Tray, the team’s general manager when I first took over, and my mind drifts back to when I sought her advice over whether or not I should let him go. I always sensed there was something she wasn’t telling me, and her reaction just now hasn’t changed my mind. “It’s like one thing after another,” she continues, mindlessly running her fingers through the strands of her hair. “We’ve barely come up for air after the Zane ‘scandal’ and now…” She trails off when her eyes meet mine, wincing before she laughs. “That’s not helpful. You know what we’re facing. You don’t need a recap.”
“I don’t, but it’s nice to have my anger reflected back at me. It makes my reaction feel justified.”
“You have every right to be pissed after everything you did for this team to protect them from the chaos he left behind.” Her cheeks flush from her anger on my behalf, making my chest knot. She only knows half of it. I wanted to protect her too.
“There’s more,” I tell her with a wince of my own. “Beckett’s seen the posts or somehow been told about the book, because he’s declined our offer.”
“God-fucking-dammit!”
“My thoughts exactly.” I huff out a laugh.
“Sorry, once again that wasn’t helpful.”
“On the contrary…your little outburst lifted my mood.”
“Good. Have you spoken to Wes?”
