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“Do you have a disco ball?” I asked, now curious.

He let out a surprised laugh. “Do I have what?”

“A disco ball? You know, those mirrored balls that hang from⁠—”

“I know what they are, but why would I have one?”

I shrugged. “Because it would be cool. I mean, your living room is large enough to have a dance party.”

The lights flickered on, illuminating the most stunning kitchen I’d ever seen. Holy shit, it was impressive, with glossy white cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and a sink large enough for me to bathe in.

Dalton’s eyes tracked me rounding the marble island from where he was leaning against the wall, hands stuffed into his front pockets, looking far too good for my health. His attention was like a physical caress on my skin. A shiver ran up my spine from the attention.

God, where was the parental supervision when you needed it?

“Holy shit. You have a drink fridge?” I asked, dropping into a crouch in front of the small refrigerator.

Small empty refrigerator.

Not having anything personal in his apartment was one thing, but not stocking a drink fridge? That was a crime.

“Why is it empty?”

Dalton moved to lean against the counter, looking slightly out of place in the swanky apartment, standing there barefoot in his white T-shirt and well-worn Wranglers, an easy smile on his gorgeous face.

“Maybe because I have a perfectly good fridge right behind you, and I don’t have to drop into a squat for that one,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes. He was missing the whole point. Luckily, I was there to enlighten him.

“A well-stocked drink fridge is the height of luxury.” I pointed at it. “It’s the symbol of wealth. That and those ice machines that make the little pellets of ice.”

His shoulders shook with laughter as he unfolded his arms and moved closer. “Those are the symbols of wealth?” he asked, offering me a hand.

I yelped when, instead of helping me stand, he lifted me and set me on the island. The chilled surface helped cool my heated flesh as he stepped between my thighs. There was no missing how perfectly aligned we were in that position.

“Well, Ari, I have both of those,” he whispered, pulling back far enough to wink at me.

Everything about Dalton being that close was overwhelming. The clean scent, his sure touch, the heat radiating from his body—the way his voice washed over me, so deep and soothing.

I swallowed, desperate to fix my suddenly dry mouth.

His smile was so delicious I shivered. “Now, tell me, Sunshine.” There was that name again. “What would you stock the fridge with?”

This was a good topic, yeah—something to think about besides the fact that if I were naked and scooched forward half an inch, this island would be ideal for fucking on.

“Ari?” he prodded, his rough hands landing on my bare thighs. Asshole was purposefully trying to fluster me if his smirk was anything to go by.

Two could play that game.

Against my better judgment, I hooked my legs around him, yanking him closer. It was intimate. Way too intimate. His jaw ticked, and I noted how he pulled his hips away just enough so we weren’t touching—but there was no hiding the bulge tenting the front of his pants.

Oh, how I folded so quickly.

I was one move away from dry-humping my team’s captain.

Oh god, it sounded so much worse when I thought of him that way. Also, so much hotter.

I cleared my throat, focusing on how to form words and unstick the syllables lodged in my esophagus.