Page 38 of Penalty Zone

It’s not hard to understand why and who I actually want. I’ve been in an adult role for most of my life, and I’m wildly attracted to his carefree nature. I can’t suddenly act as if I don’t know right from wrong. Sometimes it’s a gray area, but this isn’t confusing. Things are crystal clear when I’m away from Caleb. When he’s close, my mind and body forget everything else.

Of all the men in the world, I choose him. I can’t lie and pretend it’s purely physical. He’s such a dichotomy of personality traits, and his talent is intoxicating.

The loud voices in the lobby draw my attention, and the team trickles in, all smiles and playful taunts.

“If you refuse to let me dress like you, gimme a ride.” Lucky jumps on Drake’s back and Drake reaches back to hold him up under the ass. I envy them. They’re completely unconcerned about other people’s opinions.

“We can only have one twinning couple on the team.” Caleb points finger guns at Ace and Grayson, who are wearing dark-gray pants and zip-up black Enforcers’ hoodies.

“We aren’t a couple,” Ace grumbles.

“The birthday boy needs another song,” Gray says, and they all start singing “Happy birthday” to Caleb.

My brain short-circuits—it’s Caleb’s birthday. For some reason, I feel like I should have known that to celebrate with him. No. But a pang in my chest says otherwise.

The elevator dings, and their voices fade as the door closes. The next group comes in, and Mason sees me and waves with a genuine smile. That’s huge progress.

There’s only one couple left in the bar with me, and the bartender’s doing inventory. It’s time to pay my tab and get to bed. I can send Caleb a happy birthday text when I get to my room.

In the elevator, I take out my card and realize I left the paper with the room number on the dresser. I can’t remember if I’m in room 501 or 510.

“Leo?” Caleb asks, coming out of a room a few doors down. “Everything alright?”

Disregarding the skip in my heartbeat, words tumble out without my permission. “Happy birthday, I’m sorry I didn’t know and say something sooner. I hope you enjoyed the night.”

A smile spreads across his face. He rocks on his heels and clasps his hands behind his back. “It was good, but it’s not over yet.” He tilts his head with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

“Oh.” I refuse to read that as an invitation. We can’t kiss again, and I have to deal with another matter. “I forgot which room is mine. I’m going back down to the front desk.” The whiskey has me talking too much.

He slings an arm around my shoulder, laughing. “Call from my room.”

The relief is short-lived after he shuts his door. The two of us are in his room—alone. I duck into the bathroom and lock the door. The bright lights above the mirror spotlight the gray hair on my temples. The signs of aging glare at me.

I intend to exit quickly, but Caleb’s suitcase is near the bathroom and he’s standing between me and the door.

“I can call down for you,” he offers.

“I can do it,” I say, striding over to the phone between the beds. Scanning the numbers next to the buttons, I hit the front desk. It rings and rings and rings.

“Try again in a minute. The person’s probably helping someone.” Caleb sits on the far bed, and I sit across from him.

The air between us is heavy with all the unsaid things and emotions. I’m afraid my tongue has been loosened, so I pick up the phone to dial the front desk again.

It rings and rings.

Caleb rises and riffles through his duffle bag, pulling out a black velvet pouch. I’m transfixed, wondering what could be in the bag, and keep the ringing phone to my ear as if moving will stop him. He unclasps a leather rope chain from under his shirt and slides a black hexagon stone about an inch and a half long into the pouch.

His eyes cut to mine as I stare and don’t look away.

The phone makes a blaring series of beeps, and I jerk it from my ear, placing it back in the cradle.

“What type of stone is that?” I ask.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t have anything.” He shoves the velvet pouch in a side pocket of his duffle and straightens with a guilty expression.

Now my curiosity rages. “It’s an interesting nothing.” I smile, hoping to seem nonjudgmental.

Caleb paces around the room. “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”