29. Tyson
twenty-nine
Tyson
I’m a stealth ninja warrior slipping through the hotel’s door, finding the lobby hushed and dim.
Midnight is coming fast, but I’m not the least bit sleepy.
My mouth still tingles from Lottie’s soft kisses.
I’ve imagined kissing her a million times.
Never did I think it would feel like that.
Years of wanting packed into one kiss. We just get each other.
No awkward fumbling, no searching for a rhythm.
It’s kissing perfection.
Halfway to the elevators, I slam straight into a solid wall of muscle. Or—nope. Not a wall. Just Bryce Chambers, my teammate. “Brah,” I say, looking him up and down. “What are you doing out so late?”
He lifts a crinkly wrapper as evidence. “Snack run.” He pulls a few more packages from the center pocket of his hoodie and grins as he fans them out for me to see.
“Emergency beef jerky. Emotional support chocolate. You know, all the necessities.” He looks at my hands hanging at my side.
“What about you? What are you doing out?”
“Oh,” I say too fast, and then pat my belly. “Yeah, same. I needed a food run.”
He looks me over and grunts. “Where are your snacks?”
“I ate them already,” I say with exaggerated confidence, which only earns me a suspicious side-eye. We enter into a bit of a stare down.
“Wait a second…” His head tilts as he ponders out loud, “Do you really think I’m that—I think you were out setting up a prank.”
“Me?” I scoff. “No way. I wasn’t doing that, but I bet you were. You’ve got that guilty face.”
“My face is naturally guilty,” he shoots back. “Unlike yours, which looks like you just—”
“Are the fastest guy on ice, ever,” I interrupt.
He squints. “That wasn’t what I was going for. You aren’t that fast.”
Chuckling, I gesture to his food-stuffed pockets and give it right back. “Well, maybe if you wouldn’t eat so much, you’d skate faster.”
That earns a laugh from both of us, and he mutters, “Whatever. I’m headed back to my room. You keep sneaking around to set up your pranks—”
I throw my hands up. “Do you think I’d sew my own jersey shut?
I'm not the one setting up the pranks,” I try to explain, but he’s already strutting away.
I wait until he’s gone before leaning my hand against the wall, exhaling a deep sigh.
I hadn’t realized how high my adrenaline spiked until the dip of release hit.
Tonight was the most amazing night of my life, but sneaking around with Lottie isn’t sustainable—not with so much riding on her professional life.
I’d feel terrible if we got caught. Hopefully, she ends this whole Bodan deal soon.
I push off the wall, straighten, and peer down the hall.
My attention wanders back toward the snack machines. I could use a little emotional support chocolate too. But not just any chocolate.
I need the plain M&M’s.