My chest swells with pride.
"How is she?" I ask.
“She’s… emotional,” Delaney says, her eyes suddenly shifting all over the place. “Like, happy-crying emotional. But she askedfor you. So you need to get your sweaty ass upstairs and control your woman. Now.”
I wave a hand down my sweat-soaked practice gear. “Um, I need to shower first.”
“Then showerfast. And don't even think about doing that thing where you flex in the mirror for ten minutes." Delaney winks and slaps my arm. "Trust me, Lane. You don’t wanna keep her waiting today… Celebration sex is the best.”
She gives me a wink and a shove toward the locker room, and with that kind of mouth-watering incentive dangling in front of me, I don’t need to be told twice.
Ten minutes later, I’m clean, dressed in my jeans and a white Leopards polo, but my hair is still dripping. I take the private elevator up to the executive level, my pulse kicking with every floor.
The doors slide open to a corridor lined with framed jerseys and team photos. At the end, the double doors to the box are still open.
I push them open, and step inside.
"Hi everyone," I call out, looking around.
“Ah. The man of the hour.” Big Mike is across the room, sipping from a crystal tumbler. He sees me first, a slow smile spreading across his face.
On the central table, there’s a spread that makes my stomach growl, but all I notice are the delicate pastries that I recognize from Butter Batch. And in the center, like a crown jewel, sits a single white box, its purple velvet ribbon untied to reveal something incredible.
Zoey is still over by the window, her back to me. She’s holding an envelope, kind of smiling but looking… tense.
When she turns, her eyes are red-rimmed, her mascara smudged. But she’s smiling a wobbly, breathtaking smile that makes my heart skip a beat.
"Hey Zo," I say softly.
“Colt,” she breathes, eyes starting to water as she shakes her head.
What the hell.
She doesn't look happy. She doesn't look like a woman about to engage in.. celebration sex… or whatever Delaney said.
She looks…sad.
I cross the room quickly, pulling her into my arms without even thinking, orcaring,about who's in the room.
"Zoey, what's wrong?" I ask, holding her against my chest.
But she doesn't say anything… she just launches herself into my arms and…
Kissesme.
It’s not a shy kiss either. It’s a desperate kiss, full of a joy so fierce it steals the air from my lungs. Her lips are soft and warm against mine, but there's a raw hunger in the way she presses into me, her fingers fisting in my polo.
She still tastes like whatever we shared last night, and I just want to drown in it all over again. My hands slide down her back, feeling every curve through her soft sweater, and when she pulls back, her eyes are shining.
“Colt… you won't believe it," she breathes, eyes twinkling in front of me. "They want to expand Butter Batch, Colt. Afranchise. It’s… it’s everything I wrote in the notebook.
“Oh my God. Are you serious?!” I brush a thumb over her cheek, catching a stray tear. "That's amazing!"
She laughs, a wet, happy sound, and presses her forehead to my chest. “I can’t believe it.”
“It’s real,” I agree, my lips brushing her temple. “So why the sad eyes when I walked in?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just…” She holds up the crisp envelope in her hand. “This is… um—"
