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She looks cute. She looks tired.

I look down at the socks in my hand and toss them into her suitcase. “Packing?” I blush, being caught red-handed.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, joining me on the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of me.

“I knew you’d be back late, and I needed something to do,” I say, stretching out my back and rubbing at my bad shoulder.

“I didn’t expect Ben to keep me until after midnight. I’m sorry. You’re usually in bed much earlier.” She frowns, watching me intently. “How’s the shoulder?”

“Fine,” I say, but my face pinches even as the lie slips out.

She scowls at me and adjusts herself so she’s behind me, her fingers digging into my tight muscles.

“Fuck,” I groan, letting my head drop forward, chin to chest. “Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to the club president? Ben’s been giving you too hard of a time.”

She sighs and presses a kiss to the back of my neck. “I can handle it. I was thinking of talking to the manager myself and making a few…” She trails off.

“Complaints?” I supply.

“Mentions of inappropriate behavior.”

I stiffen, slowly looking over at her. “What?” I ask, my teeth grinding. If that son of a bitch laid a finger on her⁠—

“Not like that,” she says gently, resting her chin on my shoulder. She’s so close that I can count the freckles across her nose and cheekbones. Her hair is lighter too, from the sun. “I promise.”

I asses her face, deciding she’s telling me the truth. “Okay. In that case, we should go to sleep. There’s the flight tomorrow and a long few days ahead of us.” I stand and hold out a hand to help her up.

“I should shower.” She looks forlornly from the bed to the bathroom.

“Take a bubble bath in the morning. I’ll help you,” I whisper in her ear and grin at the way her hands curl in my shirt.

“Promise?” she asks, looking up at me through dark lashes.

“Promise.”

My phone buzzes on my nightstand and I let go of Hazel’s waist so I can reach over. Mike’s name fills the screen and I inwardly groan.

I quietly disentangle myself from the sheets, noting that both cats are asleep at the foot of the bed. A small smile starts to spread but it drops as the phone vibrates once more in my hand.

I tiptoe down the hall and softly close the door to my office, making sure I don’t wake Hazel up with this conversation.

“Hello?” I answer, scrubbing a hand down my face.

“Levi,” Mike says, all chipper. Bastard. I was asleep. “Just wanted to check in now that the pro-am is upon us.”

“Anything I should worry about?” I frown, not trusting this strange sense of security. Things are going too well.

“Surprisingly, no. Even the tabloids have been pretty quiet when it comes to you. The only articles out there are celebratory due to the U.S. Open win. I’ve got sponsors lining back up, man,” he says with a laugh.

I let out a shaky breath of relief. “Good. I’ll make sure to be extra nice to the media at the pro-am.”

“Please do. Oh, and when you and Hazel are ready to go public with your relationship, you let me know. I have some ideas. Until then, keep it on the down-low. We don’t want the pro-am board to get a whiff of it.”

I freeze at the mention of Hazel. “How did you know?” I ask quietly.

He tsks at me. “I have eyes. I’m pretty sure the whole team knew back at Shinnecock.”

“Jesus,” I groan.