It's a sleek white monument to her usual organized chaos. There are at least a dozen stacked folders, a laptop, and three open bags of candy scattered across the surface. Sour straws, gummy bears, and chocolate-covered pretzels.
Delaney's legendary candy addiction has its own line item in the team budget, but three bags in one afternoon? That's wild.
Paige is perched on a chair across from Delaney, her signature red lipstick perfectly applied despite whatever bedroom acrobatics apparently happened last night. She's clutching a Frost Café coffee cup, and I'm seriously wondering how they considerthiswork? Are they getting paid right now? Seriously?!
"For the record," I say, settling into the empty chair across from them, "I'm going to need therapy after what I just overheard."
"Oh God." Paige buries her face in her hands. "How much did you hear?"
"Enough to know Jensen's a lucky man." I wink at her. "Three times? Really?"
"I hate you," she mumbles into her palms.
"Don't blame me," I chuckle and snag a sour straw from Delaney's stash.
"Forget him, babe," Delaney snorts, collecting a chocolate pretzel for herself. "I think we're both just jealous. I've been running so dry while Tate's gone that my vibrator is starting to give me judgmental looks."
"I didnotneed to know that," I groan, but I'm laughing.
"Please. You've heard worse in that locker room." She pops the pretzel into her mouth and points at me. "Besides, when's the last time you got laid?"
Paige suddenly perks up from behind her coffee cup. "Oh, this should be good."
"I've beenconcussed," I protest. "Doctor's orders. Now… why am I here again?"
Delaney pulls up something on her laptop. The nervous energy I've been carrying around my empty apartment all morning crackles under my skin.
Whatever this meeting is about, Delaney's got that look in her eyes. The corporate one that means she's about to engineer a player's entire life.
"So." She spins the laptop to face me. "We've got some ideas. About what you're going to do while you're benched."
The screen displays a presentation slide. Big bold letters read:SNOW LEOPARDS LOCAL PARTNERSHIP PROGRAM.
Beneath the title: a photo of Main Street Chilmore, all charming storefronts and twinkling string lights. And right in the center of the image, a familiar sage-green door with a golden whisk painted on the glass.
My heart does something complicated.
"What is this?"
"This," Delaney says, leaning back in her chair, "is the team's new community initiative. We're partnering with local businesses. Player ambassadors get assigned to specific shops for daily involvement, social media presence, community engagement. The whole nine yards."
"Okay..." I drag the word out, eyes fixed on that green door. "And?"
Paige jumps in, red lips now smiling. "Big Mike wants to strengthen our connection with Chilmore. Make the team feel like part of the town, not just visitors who happen to play here." She taps her own tablet. "We've identified several flagship partners. Frost Café, Shear Trouble, the bookshop..."
"And Butter Batch Bakery," Delaney finishes, watching my face like a hawk.
Zoey's bakery.
My brain rattles for approximately three seconds before rebooting with a single, crystal-clear thought:Hell fucking yes.
"You want me… to be the ambassador for Butter Batch?" I say slowly.
"Got it in one." Delaney pops another gummy bear. "You're already a regular there. The owner knows you. It's a natural fit."
A natural fit.The woman who's been haunting my thoughts, who smells like my dreams and has eyes that make me more excited than I've ever been by a woman before in my life?!
And now I'm going to have a legitimate excuse to see her?
