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I relaxed a fraction.

“How did you figure it out?”

“How many women are going on dates with men who shut down restaurants and put them on ice the next day?” he asked, raising a brow. I refused to answer. “Plus, I was watching you out of my periphery, and you were coming out of your skin when I talked sweet to her, and looked like you were going to retire me when I touched her. But I’m not mad at you. I can see why you’re hooked, but that rocket is dangerous with a capital D.”

“No shit,” I replied, falling against my seat. “She has me so twisted, I’m hogtied.”

“Sounds like money well spent.”

“I’d pay it ten times over,” I admitted openly.

“Fuck me. I’m signing up tonight,” he proclaimed.

“Ten outta ten; I’d recommend,” I said around a yawn. Marlon grunted and volunteered to cover for me, warning me not to miss morning skate as I replied to Vera.

Me: Can’t wait.

***

Two hours later, our charter bus arrived at our hotel after we dropped off our gear at Scotiabank Arena. We filed off the bus, promptly got our hotel keycards from Hank, our Senior Travel Coordinator, then grabbed our carry-ons and duffel bags from the storage compartment beneath the passenger cabin. As captain and alternate captain, Marlon and I were always last to receive our belongings, and for once, I was grateful for it, especially when a low whistle, which happened to be the tune of my favorite Obsydian Trip song, caught my attention.

In the distance, Vera stood by a water fountain holding a small white bag in her hand. We made eye contact, and she smirked before setting the bag on the fountain’s edge and heading to the hotel entrance.

“Myers, I’m your captain, not your personal concierge—grab your damn bag, man.”

“My bad,” I apologized quickly, collecting my bag. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching as I approached the fountain and was relieved that everyone seemed to be minding their business. Brimming with anticipation, I stuffed the bag inside my jacket before entering the hotel.

I fidgeted anxiously and ignored Marlon’s yammering as I waited for the elevator to arrive. My mind was buzzing, wondering what my teasing sugar baby left behind. With Vera, I learned to expect the unexpected.

The elevator car finally arrived, and I was relieved when Marlon got off on the 21st floor and wished me a good night. The doors had barely closed when I ripped open the gift bag. I reached into the bag and groaned when I pulled out a two-piece black lace lingerie set, complete with garters.

“She’s killing me,” I murmured, shoving myself through the opening doors when the elevator arrived at the top floor. I quickly made my way to Vera’s suite at the end of the hall, used the hotel’s app to unlock the door, and let myself in.

I scanned the suite and was pleased by its luxurious amenities, proving to be worth every penny. The suite was 1,200 square feet and had a stunning view of Toronto’s cityscape and the CN Tower. It had a living-room fireplace, sophisticated furnishings in navy blue, gray, and cream hues, a dining room, a parlor, and a bedroom suite.

When I entered the bedroom, I heard the shower running and spotted another small bag in the center of the bed. I abandoned my carry-on and the lingerie shopping bag for the small envelope propped against it.

I tore open the envelope and read the card.

Hart,

I appreciate you.

-Sugar

“And yet, I’m not supposed to fall in love with her,” I murmured, emptying the black David Yurman shopping bag. I whistled when I opened a box and found a chevron Swiss Army knife, a chevron money clip, and, in another box, a sculpted cable sterling silver hooped earring. My heart squeezed in my chest as I gently ran a finger over the gifts before removing my earring and replacing it with the new one. I was about to shed my clothes and join Vera in the shower when my youngest brother called.

“What’s going on, Rat?” I answered.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” he asked hesitantly.

“No, I’m good,” I lied, erasing any tiredness from my voice.

“Are you sure? You sound like you might pass out.”

“Rat, I don’t have all day,” I replied, absentmindedly flicking the blade out of my new knife.

“Dad’s locked up.”