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After hyping myself up, I ring the doorbell and square my shoulders back, keeping my head held high. It takes only a few seconds for him to swing open his door, but it takes me a full goddamn minute to recover from the sight.
And what a sight it is—Trent, bare-chested in only black silk pajama bottoms, will forever be branded in my memory for years to come.
Looks like I wasn’t the only one pulled out of bed tonight.
But where I must look like a complete trainwreck, he looks camera-ready.
It’s the little smirk that pulls on his lips that snaps me out of my lust-filled gaze.
“Give me a second, Arnold,” he says before touching his ear and pulling my attention to his phone’s earpiece. “Are you going to come inside anytime soon, Lee, or have you come all this way just to stand in the hallway and gawk at me?”
I throw him a dirty look before stepping inside.
Trent is quick to close the door behind me as I walk further into—what can only be called—a serial killer’s bachelor pad. With its bare white walls and equally cold black furniture spread out in the spacious room, it’s very reminiscent ofAmerican Psycho.
Just black and white.
Completely absent of color.
It surprises me that he decided on those two colors at all. I’ve always pictured him in nothing but pure black.
But I get why he feels comfortable here. The modern style in architecture and decor alludes to the characteristics Trent desires in his own life—simplicity, cleanliness, and prestige.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he says before clicking on his earpiece again to go back to his phone conversation. “I hear you, Arnold, and I share in your concerns. Yes, the club will make a stance as the club’s fans will expect some form of acknowledgment from us. Hmm… yes, I agree. No, we can’t condone this type of behavior. Yes, set an example… this type of behavior must have consequences. Of course. No, we can’t be seen showing favoritism to any one player. Yes, I agree.”
My blood runs cold at every sentence that leaves his mouth.
Fuck.
They really are going to nail Nate to the cross.
I can’t let that happen.
Guess my instincts to come here first were right on the money.
“Let me talk to Rex and Byrne first. They will also need to weigh in on this matter. I’ll call you back when I can,” Trent says before hanging up.
“Was that Arnold Ziegel on the phone with you? The NHL commissioner?” I ask, but I am met with nothing but silence as I watch Trent furiously text away on his phone. “Trent?”
“Have a seat, Piper. I’ll be with you shortly, I promise,” he replies on autopilot, focusing solely on his text.
“I’d rather stand if you don’t mind.”
This gets his attention.
“Well, you certainly have the right footwear for it.” He chuckles, placing his phone face down on his coffee table. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything that didn’t come with a red sole and a five-inch heel attached to it. Also, the hoodie and pink pajama bottoms are a nice surprise, too. I would have thought you wore only haute couture to bed. That is when you’re not given a good reason to sleep naked.”
“Cute.” I scoff. “Are you quite finished making fun of how I’m dressed?”
“I wasn’t making fun, Piper. I’m just not used to seeing you without your usual armor. Believe me, seeing you with your hair down is no joking matter,” he says, his penetrating gaze trailing over my blonde locks with approval. “You should wear it like that more often. It suits you.”
“When hell has frozen over, and I decide to take beauty tips from a man, I’ll think about taking your advice to heart.”
“Glad to see it’s only your attire that’s changed. Your witty comebacks are still on point, I see.” He chuckles, flopping onto his leather couch and stretching his arms wide across the headrest. “And though I’ve become quite a fan of that sharp tongue of yours, I’m more curious about how you knew where I lived. Keeping tabs on me, are you?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I rebuke with a roll of the eye. “It’s my job to know everything about the important people I do business with.”
“Just business? Not pleasure?
