Chapter 15
TORI
Istorm out of my father’s office, furious. Almost running down the hallway, I race toward the elevators, the click-click of my heels echoing off the walls.
This entire situation is beyond ridiculous.
I have an MBA. I run a multi-million dollar hedge fund. Own a penthouse apartment in the city overlooking Park Avenue.
Yet here I am.
Thirty years of doing things his way.
After my mother died, I promised myself I’d break free.
Still waiting on that.
I shouldn’t be reduced to a pro hockey player handler.
Especially one like Bennett Steele.
He’s too attractive. Too magnetic. Too charming.
Too risky.
After the movie night, I need to put a healthy distance between the two of us. Being close to him is reckless.
Fuming, I punch the button to the elevator and wait impatiently. I grip the strap of my bag so tight my knuckles ache as I try to get a hold of my breathing. Finally, the shiny silver doors slide open, and I stomp inside, smashing the L for lobby.
A giant hand darts out, and the closing doors pop open again.
Bennett.
All muscles and swagger, his sandy waves falling perfectly across his brow.
Before I can stop him, he steps inside and leans casually against the back wall. Left knee propped up, arms folded across his broad chest. The doors glide shut and I huff out a breath, bangs feathering over my forehead.
“I can’t believe this shit.” I shake my head, muttering more to myself than to him.
Bennett cuts his deep blue eyes at me but stays silent.
I continue my rant. “I mean, what do I tell investors? That I’m staying down in Florida for the entire season? That my father needs me to handle his business for him? That the hockey team is more important than the hedge fund?” My trembling hands fly through the air, punctuating each question.
He stares at me calmly, listening.
I keep going. “I mean — I don’t get it. The hedge fund makes money. The hockey team loses money. Which is more important? Plus, I’m damn good at my job. Mangus can’t do what I do.”
Simmering anger bubbles inside me. “He’s treating me like I’m disposable. Like I’m not the reason the fund fucking exists.”
Hot tears spring to my eyes and I swipe them away quickly, before they have a chance to spill over and humiliate me further.
In one swift move, Bennett leans forward and hits the Stop button on the elevator. The car lurches, grinding to a halt.
“Tori. Look at me.”
His voice is gruff, commanding. Heat flames my cheeks and I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze.
“Look. At. Me.” He repeats the words. Calm and controlled.
I take a quick breath, then glance up at him. He’s closer now, standing right beside me. The light scruff on his skin’s visible and he smells faintly of sweat with a trace of his alpine cologne. The scent sends my pulse into overdrive.
That and the heat radiating from his large, muscular body.
“Do you want me to let it go?” He arches a brow at the button and my breath hitches.
I bite my lip, stomach flip-flopping.
I should say yes.
Instead, I shake my head ‘no.’
He steps in closer still, his arms stretched out on either side of me, gripping the railing. My heart’s hammering so hard against my ribcage I’m positive he hears it. I can’t stop staring at his mouth, those full lips only inches from mine.
“You can do whatever you want. I don’t need you to babysit me.” His jaw ticks, the vein in his temple throbbing.
“Tell your dad to fuck off. Go back to New York, if that’s what you want to do.”
There’s a sharp edge to his voice I haven’t heard before. My eyes flick to his, his pupils dark and wide in the clear pools of his eyes.
Heat unfurls low in my belly, the air crackling between us.
I tilt my chin up.
Then I break.
I press my lips to his, soft and warm against mine. He tastes like mint and bad decisions and I can’t stop myself.
Bennett kisses me back, applying more pressure for one beat, two. My knees go soft, nervous energy thrumming through my system. His arms tighten around me and I’m aware—so aware—of his strong biceps flexing against mine, caging me in.
I reach up and curl my fingers into his shirt, the soft fabric a sharp contrast to the man underneath. He drags in a shaky breath, then pulls away slightly, eyes searching my face. Like he’s trying to read me, figure out what the hell that kiss meant.
I don’t know anything anymore. Don’t trust myself with him.
“Cameras…” I murmur, fresh panic racing through me.
Bennett shakes his head. “No cameras in the staff elevator, Sunshine. You’re safe.”
The last thing I’m feeling right now is safe.
Not with the whisper of Bennett Steele’s mouth still vibrating on my lips.
I need to get a freaking grip here.
“This never happened.” My control snaps back into place, sharp and formal.
Bennett steps back, hurt swimming in his ocean eyes for one brief second. Then he matches my vibe, going cold.
“You got it.” He jams the Start button and the elevator jolts back to life. Leaning back against the elevator wall, he shoves his hands deep into his jogger pockets. His jaw’s tight as he stares straight ahead and acts like I’m invisible.
My heart sinks, mind whirling.
I’m doing the right thing here.
The L lights up overhead and the doors slide open, bright beams of sunlight reflecting off the shiny linoleum floor of the arena lobby. Bennett strolls out of the elevator without so much as a backward glance.
I stare after him, my mind buzzing.
Somehow, things just got a lot more complicated—and I’m more confused than ever.