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I double-check it before sending it over, and if I’m being honest, I look damn good.

If I were still working the hook-up app, it would definitely be uploaded as one of my photos.

But as it is, I have a hot boyfriend who can stash them in his spank bank instead.

The thought of him pulling that up when he gets to his hotel and using it as inspiration as he jerks off sends fire racing through my veins.

I don’t get a reply this time, and I’m not surprised. While he can sneak a few messages to me while he’s with the guys, opening a photo that will give everything away is a little more risky.

Instead of showering here, I grab my stuff and head home. The kinds of images I want to send him to help keep him warm on his trip aren’t the type I want to pose for in a public shower room.

The apartment is blissfully quiet when I get back, and no sooner am I in my room than I put some music on and head to the bathroom, with my cell light ring in hand, to spend an hour creating art that will make my boyfriend very happy.

I don’t get a single notification from him as I undress and take a million shots of my naked body, both in and out of the shower.

By the time I’m done, I have an embarrassing number of images ranging from almost innocent to downright indecent. I even blush when I look back at a few of them.

Cooper is going to lose his mind when he opens these later.

I finish up in the shower and waste a little more time trimming my longer-than-usual facial hair.

It’s not until I’m sitting on my bed in only a pair of boxers, with my laptop open in front of me, that my cell finally buzzes.

But when I reach for it, it isn’t a reply from Cooper telling me how much he loves the locker room picture. Instead, it’s an email.

To: Garrett Wentworth

From: Cooper Nash

Subject: Will you be waiting for me?

“Holy fuck,” I gasp as I read the main body of the email and discover that he’s booked me a fucking flight to Denver.

I’m on my feet in a heartbeat, staring wide-eyed at the screen.

This is a joke, right?

That isn’t an actual plane ticket to go to Denver so I can be waiting in his hotel room tonight after the game?

Suddenly, my phones starts ringing in my hand.

I quickly swipe to connect the call.

“What have you done?” I demand, my words coming out in a rush.

“Well, it’s nice to hear your voice too, boyfriend,” Cooper teases.

“Cooper, I’m being serious. What have you done?”

“So you got the email then?”

“Yes, I got the email.”

“And are you packing?”

“No, I’m freaking the fuck out. Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack. Pack a bag; you need to get to the airport.”