“Boyfriend?” I froze, my heart skipping a beat. “What boyfriend?”
“I dunno. You tell me.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“That’s not what your dad said,” he teased. “He said you were ‘spoken for.’”
I sighed, trapped and frustrated by a situation I couldn’t possibly begin to explain.
“Well, I’mnot,” I said.
We stopped outside the penthouse suite. I reached into my bag for my keycard. Dakota stood closely behind me, his knuckles grazing the sides of my arms, setting my nerves on pins and needles.
“Good,” he said, his breath warm on my neck. “Then he won’t be waiting for us in there with a knife.”
“Right?” I snickered.
But deep down, I panicked.
Crap—Leo—what if he’s home?
I swiped my keycard, my heart racing as the door opened.
Dakota walked in and whistled. “Damn. You got this whole place to yourself?”
“Yeah, um, it’s a welcome home gift from my dad.” I excused myself to take a quick look around the rest of the suite—and let out a breath of relief when I confirmed Leo wasn’t home.
I found Dakota where I’d left him, his brow furrowed as he poked around the living room.
“Should we have some wine?” I asked, feeling a lot more at ease now that I knew we were alone.
“Sure …” he said, seeming both distant and preoccupied as he followed me into the kitchen.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Sorry, I’m just having my mind blown over here.”
“Why’s that?”
“I just realized this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this suite,” he said, his grin spreading.
“It’s nice, right? My only complaint is the wine rack iswaytoo high.” I pointed at the bottle of Tuscan red I wanted. I needed a step ladder to reach that high, but Dakota simply walked up to it and effortlessly nabbed it for me. “Thank you!”
“No prob.”
“So do you stay here often?” I asked.
“No. I didn’t stay here. My teammates, Brock and Connor, stayed here,” he said, chuckling at the memory. “It’s kind of a funny story, actually, if you’d like to hear it.”
“I’d love to hear it!” I said as I set out two wine glasses.
Dakota began uncorking the bottle of wine while he told me a story from the Vegas Sin’s very first year. During the summer, the team aggressively pursued the league’s two top free agents, Brock Benning and Connor Deadmarsh. Brock and Connor were teammates who were seeking “a package deal,” meaning they wanted to sign on the same team so they could keep playing together.
“Aw, cute!” I said.
“We were a total long shot at signing those guys, because we were a completely new team and everyone expected us to be horrifically bad,” he explained as he poured two glasses of wine. “So the team really had to roll out the red carpet for them. Yourdad flew them here on his private jet so they could see the city. And he put them up in this very same suite, which is how I know about it.”
“And so, is that what convinced them to sign here? Staying in this suite?”
