Page 135 of The Route to You

And I’m supposed to move out in two weeks.

As he opened his computer and logged into the online meeting, he lifted his mug of coffee and leaned back in his chair. Who knew how last night’s events would affect his plans, though. In a way, it felt like a weird, insanely sexy, fever dream. Between how wired Sloan had been, the paint, and the hot-as-hell shower blow job, his brain hadn’t completely wrapped its mind around the reality of moving into a physical relationship with Sloan.

If that’s what it was.

She’d said she loved him.

He hadn’t said it back.

Because he did, and he had, but . . . a part of him was still stuck on that moment, eight years earlier, when she’d screamed in his face, saying how much everything between them had meant nothing to her.

. . . and now it was a lot harder to say it again.

“The efforts you’re making in dressing for this business meeting are impressive,” Tomas’s voice came suddenly from the computer.

Kyle’s gaze snapped down to the screen to see Tomas’s face. He cocked a look at Kyle.

“I’m an outdoor influencer who focuses on adventure travel—just trying to stay on brand,” Kyle said with a smirk. He pushed back his hoodie, though.

“Oy. Put it back up again. Your hair’s sticking up every which way.”

“Bite me.”

Tomas burst out laughing. “Bit saucy this morning, are you, mate?”

Kyle lifted his mug. “Coffee hasn’t quite kicked in.”

They were interrupted as another person joined the meeting—the representative from Blue Ridge Sports, whom Kyle had been talking to for the last two weeks.

The man appeared painfully awake—clean beard line, pressed polo with a Blue Ridge Sports logo, smile just a little too bright for this hour. He made Kyle instantly hyperaware of his scruff and unkempt hoodie.

That bastard Tomas will never let me live it down.

“Morning,” the man said. “Kyle? I’m Shawn.”

“Yeah. Hey.” Kyle nudged the laptop back an inch and immediately nudged it forward again when the camera caught too much of the empty room behind him. “Good to finally meet you.

“Likewise. And, Tomas, you’re joining us from Tokyo, right? Must be late over there.”

“Vampires never sleep,” Tomas said with a wolfish grin. “And neither do actors.”

Shawn laughed. “Occupational hazard.”

Kyle took a swallow of coffee and set the mug down before his hand started doing that faint shake he experienced when he’d slept like hell. He wouldn’t change the reason for that lack of sleep, but damn the timing wasn’t ideal.

Shawn set his hands down on the table in front of his screen. “So, I went through your proposal again last night. The episodic structure, the behind-the-scenes angle . . . that stuff’s exactly what we’re trying to lean into this year with our sponsorships.”

Kyle felt a small, tight knot in his chest ease. He needed this sponsorship so much—for things to fall into place after all the time he’d spent the last few weeks. “Yeah, I think people are burned out on perfect highlight reels with awkward pauses that feel like commercials.”

“Exactly. They want the mess. The prep. The parts where things suck a little.”

Tomas’s mouth curved with a look that Kyle knew meant he believed Kyle was spectacular at messes.

“And your audience follows you because you actually do the things,” Shawn went on. “You’re not just narrating from the sidelines.”

“Most of the time,” Kyle said, shifting in the chair. His shoulder pulled, a dull, stubborn reminder that he’d slept on it wrong. Again. Since he’d crawled into bed with Sloan weeks ago, he’d chosen her over comfort, even though sleeping alone was better for his shoulder.

“Yeah, but you’re not precious about it. If something goes sideways, you leave it in. People trust that, especially athletes. Athletes don’t believe in perfection without sweat. They believe in grit. And that’s what we’re all about at Blue Ridge, so I’ll get straight to it. We want to sponsor you for five episodes—gear, budget, the whole package. You do you for three of those episodes.”