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Bennett took another bite of the cookie, smiled, and wrote, No, I don’t think I will. And did you leave me any other presents when you broke into my apartment?

NM: It is not breaking in if I have the security code.

Bennett: A loophole if ever I’ve heard one.

Nico didn’t respond, so Bennett grabbed another cookie and took a bottle of water out of the fridge. When he looked at his phone, there was no text from Nico. He debated whether to keep typing. Did it seem too needy?

He was still debating as he slid into bed moments later. Bennett always enjoyed their banter and it seemed Nico did too. But this was more than banter, more than fucking. This was becoming something else. And maybe Nico wasn’t such a terrible choice after all. Maybe this mob boss and his secret softness could be exactly what Bennett needed.

His phone, weighted with possibility, rested in his hand. Bennett didn’t like to think of himself as a coward in terms of his professional life. He’d faced down enforcers, game sevens, reporters after a losing streak. He never shied away from the hard things when it came to hockey. Maybe his personal life deserved a little bravery, too.

Opening their thread, he took a deep breath and held it, typed, I wish you were here.

There, he thought as he exhaled. He’d said it. Let Nico ignore him or whatever. But at least Bennett had done the hard thing, even though it was terrifying. Briefly, he considered shutting his phone off. That way, he wouldn’t be listening for a buzz⁠—

His phone buzzed with an incoming message. Bennett unlocked it and saw Nico’s response waiting.

NM: I wish I was too.

A wide grin overtook Bennett’s face as giddiness exploded in his chest. “I’m fucked,” he confessed aloud to the empty room. But strangely, this time he didn’t care. This felt . . . nice. Scary, but nice.

The question was, what to do about it. He didn’t have the first clue. The search for the teammate who drugged Nico’s cousin was ongoing, with Bennett working to quickly eliminate the innocent players. The problem was Nico and what he might do after falsely accusing Noah in Chicago. Bennett was too afraid to ask.

But after the cookies, after these texts, he wanted to do something. See Nico, spend time with him. Nothing public, of course, but a gesture, maybe. Fuck, he didn’t know.

He needed help. And there was really only one person to ask.

Finding his text thread with Lauren, he wrote, Are you awake? I need advice.

Then he realized how late it was and he winced. Shit, it was really late.

Bennett: Never mind. We can talk about this in the morning.

Lauren: I’m awake!

Lauren: I watched this scary movie and I can’t sleep

She sent him a knife emoji and it made him chuckle.

Bennett: How many times have you checked the security system?

Lauren: Seven, but who’s counting?

Lauren: Now, what’s up? What do you need advice about?

Lauren: OMG is it Thirteen????????????

Bennett grimaced. He never should’ve told her that Nico was a thirteen on the hotness scale. He typed, Don’t get too excited.

Lauren: Too late!

Then his phone buzzed because Lauren was calling him. Rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, he pressed the button to connect. “I told you not to get too excited,” he said.

“I need to know what happened and I need all the details. If we text, you’ll skimp on the good stuff. So, tell me everything.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you and in exchange you’re going to help me figure out what to do next.”

“Deal,” she rushed out. “Now, talk.”