Loving the CEO (Whitley Brothers #7)

Chapter Sixteen

Leo

On Sunday, Spencer, Maddox, Cade, Nick, and I went together to watch the Red Sox play. We hadn’t gone to a game in a long while. The energy at the stadium was infectious even though the game was slow. But that gave us an opportunity to catch up.

"All right, who won yesterday?" I asked. I’d had to skip our weekly tennis match because I had a meeting with a developer.

"Gabe and me. I felt fantastic. I've actually slept great this week, so I'm invincible," Spencer informed us.

Cade and I looked at each other and laughed. We had a secret understanding that we didn't even realize was an understanding until we’d caught each other doing it. Since Spencer became a dad, his game had understandably faltered, what with lack of sleep and everything, so on occasion, we let him win. I mean, how many times in a row could a dude lose the game before throwing in the towel?

Lately, though, he was becoming more and more cocky—or should I say, he had the typical Whitley cockiness back. So next time, we’d go hard on him. Which was fine by me. I had so much energy lately that I could probably play tennis by myself the whole day and still not get tired. I was pumped up.

I also had far too much sexual energy I needed to get rid of. I was picking up Tory later this afternoon, and I needed to take the edge off before then. Her short time in New Orleans had been rough, and I needed to make sure she was okay before we took things any further.

We all started to watch the game. They were batting and doing a shitty job at it. Nick went to the bathroom, claiming he wasn’t sure if he was returning to watch the rest of this nightmare. He and I were the biggest Red Sox fans, so games like these were hard to watch. Fortunately, they were far and few between, but still, we wanted to see a win.

I started to laugh. “Anyone feel cheated? What are we even doing here?”

"Dude, you’re in a surprisingly good mood," Cade said.

"Hell yes, I am."

"Even with the Red Sox losing spectacularly? You’re usually insufferable when that happens," Spencer said. "What gives?"

"Why shouldn't I be? Everything is working out great.”

"How’s your roommate?" Cade asked with a shit-eating grin.

"Good," I said. "And she's not my roommate, just my housemate."

"Yeah, po-tay-toes, po-tah-toes."

"I think Gran is barking up the wrong tree this time," Spencer said.

"You would always think that, though," Maddox replied.

I snorted. "Let me guess: Gran thinks Tory and I are—and I quote, because I would never say these words myself—‘meant for each other’?" I started to laugh. "She never gives up, huh?"

“Never,” Cade assured me. “But you’re solidly hanging in there, considering how good your mood is. And how good your game was last time.”

“What’s one thing got to do with the other?” I asked.

Spencer cleared his throat. "Whenever one of us got whipped over a woman, our tennis game was for shit."

"But I’m different that way. I’m the calm in a storm and can focus no matter what. "

There was a moment of silence, and then Spencer said slowly, "Dude, that sounds a bit like a confession."

Maddox didn't say anything at all—he was just evaluating me. But Cade was also looking at me with suspicion.

"How about I fill you in?" I offered, recognizing defeat.

There was no need for secrets. My brothers weren't Gran. They'd understand what was going on.

"Well, well, a Whitley who finally fesses up without being coerced," Maddox said. "Good for you, bro. Actually, let me text Nick. He'll want to hear this."

"Christ, when did we turn into a bunch of gossips?" I asked.

"We've always been, bro," Spencer replied. "We just pretended we were above it. Now, we just admit."

"I don’t. It's not gossip, just... catching up on one another’s lives," Cade said.

"Exactly," Maddox replied. "Ah, Nick's still here. He’s coming back."

“What’s going on? Game improved?” Nick asked the second he joined us, handing Cade and Maddox beers.

“No, we gave up on it,” Cade explained. “But Leo here has news. We didn’t even suspect what was up after last week’s game. He's got supernatural powers, unlike us. Whenever we started seeing our women, we played like shit, but not this guy."

"Yeah," Nick said, "it was almost bizarre how that worked. I call it the Whitley Curse. " He looked at me. "Damn, brother. Tell me they're not talking about Tory." His voice was unusually harsh.

"So what if they are?" I asked.

Nick held his hands up, groaning. "Come on, man. Tory's different, you know that. She's not..."

"Careful there, brother," I said. "I feel like you're about to insult me."

"I’m not. But you and I both know that what Tory wants is something you'll never be able to give her."

That felt like a punch to the gut.

"Right, and here I thought this was going to be an enjoyable afternoon. On that note, I think it’s time for me to take off.”

Cade cocked a brow. "You're leaving?" He looked at Nick. "Dude, can you back off? He’s not going to hurt her."

But I knew Nick wouldn't because he had a point. Nick, Maddox, and I made a pact long ago that we wouldn't pull our punches.

He was completely right. I just didn't want to hear it.

Nick looked at me for a few more seconds and then said, "Whatever. It's none of my business. Just don't fuck her over, okay?”

“This is going nowhere fast," Maddox said.

"She's my friend. Of course I don't intend to hurt her. Are you trying to piss me off?" I growled.

"Right, you know what? I think it's best if we simply watch the game." That came from Spencer. He was usually the one to calm things down when they heated up.

"I think so too," I said.

Nick didn't reply at all, but I didn't expect him to. Unless he wanted to threaten me some more.

We watched the game until the end without bringing up our personal lives—and the Red Sox lost spectacularly.

I headed straight home afterward even though I didn't have much time to linger, as I was picking up Tory in an hour. Damn it, I was supposed to blow off steam with my brothers. Instead, I had even more pent-up energy.

After managing to get thirty minutes on the treadmill, I got in my car and drove to the airport. I checked my phone to see if Tory had messaged me about any delays—she had—and saw a missed call from Nick. I debated not calling him back—the last thing I needed was more warnings to piss me off—but that wasn't like me. I never ran away from confrontation, not even with my brothers, so I called. Three rings later, I figured he was too busy, but then he picked up.

"Hey," he said. "Listen, about earlier—"

"Don't start with me again."

"I wasn't going to. You know Tory better than I do. You know what you're doing."

I hesitated before admitting, "I actually don't."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, man. What's that even mean?"

"I'm playing it by ear."

"You cannot play with someone's feelings by ear.” He groaned. “I can't believe we're even having this conversation. Damn it, man. Maybe spending so much time with Gran rubbed off on me. Just don't fuck it up."

"Any other words of wisdom to add?" I asked in jest.

"I’d say to stay away from Tory.”

“Nick—”

“It’s my honest opinion. Then again, this is definitely not my domain. But if you hadn't taken off like that, maybe our brothers could have given you better advice. After all, they’re all in healthy relationships."

“I don’t need anyone’s advice.”

“Famous last words, brother. I need to go.”

“Sure.”

After hanging up, I noticed a new message from Tory.

Tory: We’re taking off now. Everything is on time.

I was excited to see her, but my brother's warning was ringing in my ears. The truth was, my brothers knew me well—Nick especially. Usually, when they said something, I listened. But staying away from Tory was impossible, akin to someone trying to convince me that the sky was green and not blue.

I had plenty of time before she landed to make a pit stop or two, so I googled a flower shop near the bakery where I planned to buy her scones. Fuck yes, this was a good plan. I was going to welcome her with flowers and scones, and I wouldn’t make a move on her.

I was determined to take things at her pace. There was always a chance that she’d tell me she wasn't ready for any of this, and I’d respect her wishes, of course. My dick might completely fall off, but I was going to respect her. This was about Tory, after all, not me.

***

Half an hour later, I walked inside the airport feeling fucking good about myself with the flowers and the scones. I waited right next to the arrivals area, eyes trained on the door.

The second Tory stepped through them, I swear to God, my breath caught. It was corny as shit, but it was true.

What the hell is happening to me?

She noticed me a split second later, and her face opened up in a huge smile. She walked toward me with quick steps, still smiling wildly and her eyes sparkling like she was happy to see me.

“You got me flowers? And are these—oh my God, scones! Just so you know, I like you a lot," she said, talking to the flowers, "but scones just taste better, and I really need to have some sugar right now.”

“Let's not forget the guy who made it all happen."

She looked up at me somewhat shyly and then said, "Thanks, Leo."

"My pleasure." I caught myself in time before wiggling my eyebrows .

Fucking hell, I wasn't acting like myself right now. I had absolutely no composure.

"I'll take this," I said, grabbing the handle of her huge suitcase. "And the carry-on."

She took the scones and the flowers from me, and then we walked toward the car.

"How are you doing? Happy to be back?" I asked.

"Oh yes. So happy!"

To my astonishment, relief seeped through my bones. Some part of me had feared that if she went to New Orleans, she’d decide to stay there.

She took a bite of a scone and moaned in satisfaction. "These scones are fantastic. Where did you get them?"

"That's a secret."

"Oh? What can I do to make you share it with me?"

"I have a few things in my mind."

She swallowed hard, licking her lower lip. I might not have meant it as an innuendo, but it clearly was one.

Fucking hell, she'd only just arrived. How were we on thin ice already?

"What do you want to do right now?" I asked her.

"What are the options?"

"I can take you out to dinner, or we can order in."

"I’m in the mood for a cozy evening in," she said.

Being home alone with her would make it that much harder to keep myself in check, but I was going to do my best.

There was zero traffic on the drive home, so we arrived in no time at all. Once we stepped inside the house, she said, "I'm going to put the flowers in water."

I pointed at her bags. "I'll carry these upstairs. "

"Thanks a lot."

As I went up the stairs, I yelled back, "Try to decide what you want to eat."

"Sure," she replied.

By the time I returned to the kitchen, however, she was still hunched over her phone, scrolling. Looking up, she said with a sheepish smile, "I'm sorry, I still can't decide. Besides, I've had some scones." She straightened up. "And I'm not really hungry."

"We don't have to order now."

"Do you want some scones?"

My eyes widened comically. "You're sharing your goodies with me? You must like me, huh?"

"Very much," she replied.

I took a scone, eating it slowly and choosing my next words carefully.

"Tory, I'll make things easy. I'll give you two options, and I want you to know that I'm good with whichever you choose, okay?"

"All r-right," she stuttered.

"Do you want to forget that night?"

She didn't say anything for a few seconds, and when the silence felt too unbearable, I looked up at her. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear with both hands, then took a deep breath.

"No, I don't want to forget about it. Not in a million years. I keep thinking about it. I keep wanting a repeat," she whispered.

"Fuck," I exclaimed. The next second, I tilted her chin up. She dropped her hands. "You mean it? I need to know that you do."

"Of course I do."