Jake chews on his bottom lip, as if he’s debating something. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Of course. What can I do?”

“I’m sure Queenie’s told you she’ll be traveling with the team.”

“Uh, yes, she’s mentioned that.”

“Can I ask you to keep an eye on her for me? I don’t want to smother her, and I know she’s an adult, but some of your teammates are smooth talkers . . .” He lets it hang there.

“I understand, sir.”

He pats me on the back, his smile holding relief. “Thanks, King. I knew I could count on you to watch out for my baby girl.”

I would feel so much better about this request if I hadn’t already been naked with his baby girl, but I’m more than happy to keep the rest of my teammates away from her.

Our brief conversation means Jake and I are last to board the plane.

Queenie’s at the front of the plane, sitting in the aisle seat, laptop open and typing away. In the row beside her are Alex and Rook, who are deep in conversation. Queenie glances up from her laptop as we board and gives me a small smile, then moves the messenger bag from the seat beside her. I recognize it as Jake’s. I spot Bishop at the back of the plane, so I make my way down the aisle toward him.

“You can take the window seat if you want,” I tell Bishop when he makes a move to get out of his seat to let me in.

He makes a face. “You hate the aisle seat.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll take the window on the way back.”

“Suit yourself.” He slides over. We’re on the opposite side of the plane from Queenie, which means I have a pretty decent view when she leans on her armrest.

Bishop pulls a newspaper out of his bag, and I scroll through the movies. Sort of. I’m half paying attention to the movies and half paying attention to Queenie when I get an elbow in the side. “Ow! What was that for?”

“Dude. Stop being so obvious.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bishop leans over so he can see past the seat in front of us. “Really, King?”

“I’m looking for a movie.” I tap the screen in front of me.

“No, man, you’re not. Maybe that’s what you want me to think you’re doing, but the only way you could be less conspicuous is if you went up to the front of the plane and sat in her damn lap. Stop staring. It’s borderline creepy.”

“I’m not staring.”

“Yeah, man, you are. You’ve been doing it a lot, not to mention driving her home and hanging out with her,” he says quietly. “What the hell is going on between the two of you?”

“There’s nothing going on. We’re just friends.”

He gives me a look. “Why are you lying to me?”

“Can you drop it for now?” I glance to my left, where our teammates are sitting and potentially listening to our conversation.

He pokes at his cheek with his tongue. “You’re spilling it later. But you need to check yourself, King, before people other than me start to notice, if they haven’t already.”

“Right. Yeah.” I keep my eyes glued to the screen for the rest of the flight. Mostly.

Several hours later we arrive at the hotel. Bishop and I always room together, so we wait with the rest of the team for the elevators and head up to our respective floors. I lose track of Queenie along the way, partly because I’m paranoid that Bishop is right, especially since Jake just finished asking me to watch out for her.

When we get up to the room, I do what I always do: unzip my suitcase and find my portable steamer. When I turn around to retrieve the hangers from the closet, Bishop is standing in front of it with his arms crossed.

“Can I get in there?”

“Not until you spill it. What the hell is going on with you and Queenie?”

I open my mouth to speak, and he raises a hand. “And do not say, ‘Nothing.’ We’ve known each other for years, and I have never seen you tail a woman like you do her. Even Stevie has noticed, and she usually couldn’t give less of a shit about stuff like that.”

I rub the back of my neck. “Okay, okay. But this has to stay between us.”

“I’m antisocial as fuck, King. Pretty sure you don’t need to worry about me running my mouth to anyone apart from my cat and maybe Stevie, but she’s a vault.”

I nod and blow out a breath. “So you remember when I found out that Hanna is actually my biological mom?”

“Yeah, of course. You were appropriately freaked out, and then you did what you always do: you got over it in five minutes and moved on.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not quite what happened.”

“Right. You said you went to a bar. There’s no shame in getting drunk once in a while, King. No one is going to hold it against you, except maybe you.” He uncrosses his arms and leans against the wall.

“I didn’t get drunk by myself.”

“Also not a crime.”

“And I brought a woman home with me.”

“As long as that woman was a coherent and willing participant in whatever you got up to—which I’m assuming she was, because you’re you—that also isn’t something you should beat yourself up about. I’m not getting what this has to do with Queenie.”

“She’s the woman I brought home. But she left before I woke up the next morning, and I didn’t see her again until the first team meeting of the season.”

Bishop blinks, and blinks again. “Holy shit. Are you telling me you had a one-night stand with the GM’s daughter?”

“No. I mean . . . sort of? We agreed that night that we were just going to have fun and forget that our lives were kind of messed up. I would have given her my number, but I didn’t have a chance. And we didn’t have sex. Not really, anyway.”

“How do you not really have sex? You either do or you don’t, King. There’s no actual in-between.”

“There was some wet humping.”

His eyebrows lift. “Wet humping?”

“Like dry humping but without clothes.” I lace my hands behind my head and pace some more. “I sort of slipped for a second.”

“Slipped?”

“In. I slipped inside. But just the head.” This is more sharing than I’ve ever done before. But it’s Bishop. He’s good at keeping his mouth shut, because I’m one of the only people he actually willingly speaks to on a regular basis.

“Wow. I haven’t played just the tip since high school.”

“It’s not a joke, Ship. And we weren’t playing just the tip. We were both under the influence and not making the best choices, and we got carried away, but we didn’t have actual sex.”

“I can’t believe you’re just telling me this now.”

“It isn’t personal. I don’t talk about this kind of thing.”

He waves the comment away. “Yeah, yeah. I know, just . . . wow. I can’t believe you’ve been hanging on to that for this long. So what’s going on with you now? Clearly not nothing, since you’ve been spending time with her.”

“I told her I wanted to date her, but Jake made it clear he doesn’t want her getting involved with the players, so like I said, we’re keeping it platonic.”

He blows out a breath. “And you think it’s gonna stay that way?”

“Unless Jake changes his mind, it’ll have to. Besides, he asked me today to keep an eye on her.”

“Why would he ask you to do that?”

“Because we’ve been spending time together, and he trusts me, I guess.”

Bishop snorts. “Looks like that trust is misplaced, huh?”

I run my hand down my face. “If I’d known who she was, I never would’ve brought her home with me. I don’t even do that in the first place. I’m trying to keep a level head here, but it sure hasn’t been easy.”

“Because you feel guilty?”

“Sort of. Yeah. No. I don’t know.”

“That’s a yes.” Bishop crosses the room and flops down on a chair. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I brought a random woman home with me while we were both under the influence of alcohol. It could’ve gone incredibly wrong.”

Bishop gives me a look. “King, you’re the most conscientious person I know. Your moral compass is always pointed due north. I’m sure you asked about four hundred thousand times if she was okay with what was happening, and based on how you two can’t seem to stay away from each other, I’m guessing she sure as hell wouldn’t mind if it kept happening.”

“But it can’t.”

“But you would like it to.”

“What I want is irrelevant, since Jake has already laid the rules down.”

Bishop drops his head back, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. “Oh, come the fuck on, King. You’re a problem solver. Solve the fucking problem.”

I throw my hands up in the air. Annoyed. “The only solution is to stay away from her, and I can’t.”

Bishop snorts. “Get permission to date her.”

“But—”

He holds up a hand. “I know what Jake said, but you’re like the poster boy for freaking wholesome. If there’s anyone he’d be okay with his daughter dating, it’s you.”

“Not if he knew what happened between us already.” Or all the very wrong things I’d like to do with and to his daughter.