Page 19 of Grizz

He grabs his wallet, his grin returning.“You’re a lost cause, McAvoy.But don’t worry, I’ll eat enough steak for both of us.”

“Do me a favor,” I say, eyes still closed.“Stay out of the team group chat tonight.”

Tanner salutes on his way out.“No promises.”

The door shuts, and silence fills the room.I close my eyes and fall back to sleep.

By the time I wake again, it’s dark outside.For a moment, I’m disoriented as to where I am but then my stomach growls loud enough to echo, and I slam back into reality.I check the clock—8:47 p.m.My phone’s full of unread messages, mostly from Tanner, along with several photos of his dinner companions.They are absolutelyDallas tensbut I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything.Been there, done that more times than I can count.

I throw on a black tee, jeans, and a baseball cap for anonymity.The less recognizable I am, the better.I grab my room key and wallet and head downstairs.

The lobby’s quieter now.A handful of guests at the bar, some suits watching football highlights, and a couple on a date pretending to care about the wine list.I spot an empty stool and head over.There’s a half-finished drink in front of it with a napkin draped over the glass—a universal sign fortaken.So I slide one seat over.

“Steak sandwich, medium rare,” I tell the bartender after perusing a menu.“And a beer.Something local.”

He nods and disappears, not seeming to recognize me, but that’s not all that unusual.In New York, it would be hard to sit here without being approached by fans.But this is Dallas and most aren’t going to recognize an opposing player wearing a ball cap.I relish the peace.

The muted hum of conversation blends with the soft clink of glasses, a transient tranquility you only find in hotel bars, where everyone’s passing through and no one’s trying too hard to stay.The food comes quickly after the beer, and I remember that service in cities other than New York can actually be speedy.I’m halfway through my first bite when a voice beside me says, “Guess I should’ve known you’d sit right next to my drink.”

I look up, and there she is… Daisy Turner.Hair loose, dark waves brushing her shoulders.A tailored cream blazer over a black top, subtle gold jewelry.She looks nothing like she did in the gym—no oversized Vipers tee, no safety-pinned shorts.Just curves that look too good and the quiet power she exudes that I don’t think I’ve seen in other women.

“Didn’t see your name on it,” I say, eyes drifting up to the TV above the bar.

“There’s a napkin.”She slides onto the stool beside me and peels it off the glass.“Universal symbol forDon’t touch.”

“I thought it meant the bartender’s on break.”

Her mouth curves.“Do you always assume things belong to you until proven otherwise?”

Normally, I would take such a loaded question as a challenge, but my hackles aren’t rising like they usually do.“It’s served me well in the past.”

She takes a sip of her martini and looks up at the TV.I wait for her to ask me another question… to goad.But she remains silent and it puts me on edge.

“What are you doing here?”I finally ask.

“I’m with the team, remember?”she says.“Media obligations.Travel PR.My flight landed just a bit ago.”

I raise an eyebrow.“Langley’s really got you doing the full babysitter circuit, huh?”

“It’s called being thorough.”

“It’s called being a stalker,” I quip.

“Please,” she says, a manicured fingertip toying with the edge of her glass.“If I were stalking you, you’d never know.”

I almost choke on my beer, which is weird… almost no one has the ability to make me laugh or amuse me, except for maybe Tanner.“You always this charming off the clock?”

She twists her neck, lovely blue eyes landing on me.“Only with people who make my job harder.”

It’s tough to look at that simple beauty that absolutely gives off those girl-next-door vibes.I turn back to the TV.“That’s everyone, then.”

“Just you,” she says and takes another slow sip.

For a few minutes, we drink in silence and I eat my steak sandwich, eyes pinned to the football highlights.It’s not comfortable, but it’s not bad either, and not once do I consider picking a fight or trying to assert control over my new jailer.

When she breaks the quiet between us, her voice is soft, almost soothing.“You do realize your public reputation is about one suspension away from implosion, right?”

“Glad we’re keeping it light.”