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I take in the dark atmosphere of his bedroom, the maroon sheets and comforter, the nearly blackout curtains, which are closed. Much like the rest of his house, it suits him. There’s something about this room that’s distinctly him.

I take in the photos he has on the wall, blurry shots from camping trips, a photo with him and Rhodes somewhere tropical, and another where Ezra’s arm is wrapped around his shoulder as they sit at a long and busy holiday table. Must be Ezra’s family.

I turn my gaze to him, finding him already watching me. As I take him in, all lean and tall, rubbing at his shoulder, I realize that I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t actually know what will help with his ache.

“Rest, huh?” Levi’s lips twitch as he questions my choice of words.

I chuckle. “I’m just here to tuck you in,” I tease, patting the side of his bed closest to us.

“The only way I’m getting into bed this early is if you’re joining me,” he says, taking a step closer, placing his hands on both my hips.

I suck in a breath and tip my head up at him. “Is that so?”

He nods, pressing his forehead against mine. We stand like this for a couple breaths, my hands sliding up his chest and fiddling with the collar of his polo.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he says, digging his fingers into my hips.

I shift on my feet, and my shirt rides up just enough that his thumb finds a sliver of skin to caress. “You can tell me anything,” I say, tipping back to see his face. There’s more stubble on his jaw than a few days ago.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks.” He breathes out the words against my lips.

In response, I rise up on my tiptoes and kiss him again. I take my time, exploring every inch of his mouth with my own. Unlike the kiss in the car, this one is not frantic, but it’s just as intense. His muscles shift under his shirt and I grip his collar harder, lightly scratching his chest with my short nails. His grip tightens on my hips, and he pulls me further into his body.

We’re both panting and grinning when we pull back. “I, uh…” He swallows, eyes dragging from my lips to my eyes. “I need you to know I don’t do one-night stands.”

My mouth opens and promptly closes. Nothing about his demeanor has ever hinted at him being a playboy. Ezra, sure, but Levi? Never.

I frown. “That’s not what this is.”

“Good.” He breathes a sigh of relief and kisses me again. It’s swift and gentle, but his hands continue to hold me firmly in place. “I want to date you, Hazel.”

My chest expands as I take a deep breath and smile up at him. “I want to date you too,” I say. Then, slowly, the reality of our situation comes into focus. “But⁠—”

“But,” Levi sighs, dropping his forehead against mine once more, “not while you work for me.”

I nod, the movement rubbing our noses together. “After the Shinnecock tournament, I won’t be working for you anymore. We’ll just have the pro-am to worry about.” I slide my arms up from his chest and loop them around the back of his neck. “But we can cross that bridge when we get there.”

My chest presses to his and he groans, dropping his chin on top of my head. “Stupid tournament,” he mutters, pressing the sweetest kiss to my hair.

“Oh no, the big hotshot player needs to travel to New York and compete in one of the biggest tournaments of the country!” I gasp dramatically, spinning us both around so his knees hit the bed. With a light shove, he falls back in a sitting position, his knees widening to make room for me.

“Whatever will I do?” he asks, grinning up at me.

I press my lips to his forehead for a lingering kiss, lightly scratching his scalp. He sighs and lets go of my hips to fist the edge of the bed.

“Go to bed,” I say, taking a step back, away from his heat and wandering hands.

“Will you stay with me?”

I narrow my eyes on him. “You just said⁠—”

“I mean sleep. Just sleep.” He raises his hands in defense. “Here, with me.” He nods over to the stack of pillows and I have to admit; it does sound tempting.

“I don’t know if that’s a great idea.”

“I promise to keep my hands to myself,” he says, reaching over his head and yanking his T-shirt off his body. “Can’t say the same about you. Maybe you find me a little too…” He leans in, grinning at me. “Irresistible.”

I huff in frustration as I take in his strong body. Toned arms, pronounced collarbones, and—yep, I was right…that is an eight-pack.