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“She wrote the trash piece about Mr. King and Mr. O’Keefe?” Ari asks.

“And the one about Grayson,” Brant says, and Grayson nods.

“I’ll get her press pass revoked.” He spins on his heel and stalks away.

“I’ll shower quick.” Mav leads me into the dressing room, and I’m in awe. I’ve seen their room from news clips, but they don’t capture the scope of it. The purple-and-black logo on the floor, the labeled cubbies with each player’s name, and the stench. Hockey stench is its own animal. It definitely has four legs and can kill you.

Mav gathers his shower stuff while I fake being a normal human, sitting on the bench by his locker.

“We can go out if you want,” I say, examining his face to get a better read on his emotions.

“You’re the boss. You decide,” he answers with a grin, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Not me,” I disagree.

“Always you.” He lifts my chin and places a firm kiss on my lips.

“Hey, no kissy-face in—”

“Shut it, Benz,” Mav says in time with half the team.

Mav glares at Benz and kisses me again. Thankfully, I’m sitting, or my knees would give out.

Chapter 24

Maverick Maher

“It’s a happy surprise, but don’t get grand ideas; it’s a little thing.” Sky tugs me through the brownstone’s front door toward the upstairs.

“We’re not going into the kitchen. Is it a sexy surprise?” I ask, blocking out his scream echoing in my head. I worry our relationship is more stressful for him than it’s worth. He pretends he’s not on edge and doesn’t confide in me.

“No.” He smirks at me over his shoulder. “You’ll have to disclose your kinks for that.”

I stop walking. “What?” I ask in alarm. I’m not sure I have kinks. Will that be a deal-breaker? What if I’m overbearing and worse—boring? By his expression, he sees my distress.

“Arion, it was a joke.” He uses my nickname, infusing the power of a Greek god, and plasters himself to my body with his arms around my waist. “What’s going on with you?”

“I’m fine.” The words tumble out, and I don’t dispute them.

“If you remember the code to the door, I promise not to call you a liar.” He stands on his tiptoes but can’t reach my ear, and his breath tickles my skin.

“You trust me with your codes? You haven’t changed them?” I pick him up under his ass and carry him to the door, balancing him so I can push the buttons.

“I won’t dignify that with an answer.” He fails to keep the hurt out of his tone.

Once the door is open, he directs me to the front room on the opposite side of his bedroom. “Another mysteriously locked room.” I turn the handle, and it opens easily.

“Not mysterious, a storage dump, and I cleaned it out when you were away. Now it’s ready for use. Enter.” He flings his arm out toward a living room. A fully furnished room with a comfy couch, two leather club chairs, and a double recliner covered in a soft gray fabric. He accessorized the room with an extra-large TV, vintage lamps, and funky area rugs over the hardwood floors. It’s eclectic but also fits the traditional style of the house while incorporating his bold personality. “Do you like it?”

I’m too speechless to confirm I love it.

“You’re disappointed.” He unhooks his legs from my waist and slides down my body.

“No.” I pull him back against my front. “How did you do this without me knowing?”

“I’ve been sorting through the junk in here to make it a proper living room for us, and I did most of the work while you were out of the house. The door is always closed so you couldn’t see the progress, but it took weeks from start to a proper room. The reading nook is crowded, and we can’t have people over.” He’s speaking fast, giving away his nervousness.

I spin him around and throw him onto the couch, smothering him with my body. The soft fabric molds us in its cushions. “I love it. You did this for me?”