Page 53 of Sliding into Love
Maybe Gil is right. I have to step up and make myself known. Getting Royce to notice me as more means taking a leap and hoping they’ll jump in with me.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ROYCE
My first gameworking for the team is electric.
I can feel it humming through every inch of the stadium, vibrating through the concrete floors and up into my bones. The energy is intoxicating. Thousands of voices blending together, the crack of the bat during warm-ups, the smell of hot dogs and beer wafting through the corridors.
This is what I've been working toward. This moment right here.
Except I can barely focus on any of it because Kenneth Meyer won't stop looking at me.
It started this morning when I arrived at the office to find my spare clothes missing from my closet. I only noticed because I accidentally spilled coffee on my top when Kenneth startled me.
Then I discovered my computer password had been changed. After being told I had to wait several minutes before attempting to log in again, it hit me that I wasn’t typing anything wrong.
Separate, they were no big deal. They were small things. Irritating things. Things that forced me to track Kenneth down, to interact with him, to stand close enough that I could smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his body.
As a whole, it was aggravating me to a level I rarely allowed.
When I’d asked for his help, Kenneth had smiled at me like he knew exactly what he was doing.
Because I suspect he did.
"You're going to give me my password," I'd said, crossing my arms.
"Am I?" He'd leaned against his desk, all casual confidence, his tie slightly loosened. It was barely eight in the morning, and he already looked like he'd been working for hours. "What's the magic word?"
"Kenneth."
"Not quite." His eyes had traveled down my body slowly, deliberately, before meeting my gaze again. "Try again."
I wanted to strangle him. I also wanted to kiss him. The contradiction was maddening.
Now, hours later, as we move through the final pre-game preparations, I'm hyperaware of everywhere he is. We've been together all morning—reviewing the schedule, coordinating with security, doing walk-throughs of the luxury suites to ensure everything is perfect for our high-dollar guests. Every interaction has been professional on the surface, but underneath, there's a current of tension building and building until I feel like I might explode.
I'm moving through the stadium, checking details, greeting early arrivals, but my mind keeps drifting back to Kenneth. He went to check on a vendor so I’m alone with my thoughts. And boy are they all over the place.
Visions of a future with him run on repeat. I can’t stop them, nor do I really want to. The Kenneth of now is so different from our younger years. Back then, I’d never even consider talking to him, much less think of giving in to the desire to touch and taste him.
Plus all the stolen moments we’ve had lately… well, they’ve been nice. They’ve put ideas in my head I can’t seem to shake.
I'm in the executive corridor outside one of the luxury suites, waiting for a suite holder who texted that he was on his way, when I hear a familiar cadence of footsteps.
Kenneth must have circled back, must be nearby. Sure enough, I catch sight of him as soon as he turns the corner at the end of the hall. The moment he spots me, his gaze turns heated.
He starts walking toward me, slow and deliberate, and I know I should tell him to stop, that we need to maintain a professional distance, but I can't seem to form words. At least I can’t until he’s close enough to reach out and touch.
It’s better to speak than to do anything I might regret.
"The suite holders will start arriving soon," I tell him. "We need to make sure?—"
"Royce." His voice is low, and when I look up, he's closer than he was a second ago. Close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "Can we talk? Privately?"
My heart kicks against my ribs. "We are private."
"More private." He glances down the hallway. "We can go just around the corner. It'll take two minutes."
