I’m so gobsmacked by his words, paired with a rising heat in his eyes, that it takes me a minute to realize that he hasn’t released my hands from his.

I clear my parched throat and pull my hands away, straightening my spine and holding my head up to look every bit the professional that I am.

“If I didn’t say it before, then allow me to say it now, Mr. Donovan,” I make a point to clearly enunciate his last name so he knows I mean business. “Neither flattery nor flirtation will win you any brownie points with me.”

“Are you sure?” He snickers with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Because it’s kind of hard to take you seriously when you blush like that any time I do flirt with you.”

“I am a grown woman, Caleb. I do not blush.”

“No?” he says, brushing his knuckles lightly on my heated cheek, taking the very air out of my lungs.

I slap his hand away and give him a stern look.

“I see that you’re in high spirits today. Am I to assume that it’s because you have solved your little problem?”

I know it’s a cheap shot and extremely unprofessional of me to highlight something that could be triggering for him. Still, it was the only thing I could come up with that might restore some kind of power dynamic balance between us.

“Ha, Roxie. There’s nothing little about me.” He smirks, coaxing me to cross my arms over my chest imposingly. “But now that you mentioned it, I did find a surefire way to fix the issue.”

A bone-deep disappointment that I have no business feeling assaults me with his confession.

“I’m glad to hear it,” I lie. “I guess your phone really does come in handy when the occasion calls for it.”

“Actually, I didn’t use it.” He smiles proudly. “In fact, I deleted all those numbers. Don’t need them anymore.”

My expression alone must say that I don’t believe a word he’s saying because the next thing Caleb does is make a show. He pulls out his phone and unlocks it, handing it over to me.

“Don’t believe me? See for yourself.”

With my brows furrowed, I start scrolling through his phone, shocked to see that, aside from his family, teammates, and other sports-related names, the only female name in his contact list is me—under Foxie Roxie, no less. Usually, I would reprimand him for the nickname, but I’m too stunned to reproach him about it.

“But then… how… I mean how—”

“How did I sort out my little problem, as you so eloquently called it? I decided to take matters into my own hands. Pun intended,” he drawls and then surprises me further when he leans in so close that I feel his warm lips brush my earlobe. “And all I needed was the right muse to get me there. Want to venture a guess who I’m talking about?”

To my chagrin, I feel my cheeks heat up even more at the salacious statement.

Did Caleb Donovan just imply that he … that he … came thinking of me?

“There it is,” he coos in my ear before pulling away, his cheek lightly caressing mine.

It takes me a good long second to step away from him, but the damage is already done.

I open my mouth to say something, anything to regain my power back, but Caleb doesn’t give me a chance.

“I’m kind of bummed that I have that lame-ass photoshoot tonight and will have to miss our session. I was really looking forward to telling you every little detail about how you helped me through this particular rough patch. Guess we’ll both have to wait until Monday for the play-by-play.” He winks. “Have a nice weekend, Roxie. I sure intend to.”

And with that, he’s off while I stay rooted to my spot, stewing in my own embarrassment.

Caleb has always been a defiant, but today… he’s crossed a line.

Even if what he said is true, he should have never confided such a sordid thing to me, especially in such a public setting.

Not wanting to give the odd interaction any more thought, I decide to push it out of my mind and do my best to spend the rest of my day not thinking about Caleb Donovan.

Of course, it’s easier said than done.

Especially when my first session of the afternoon is none other than Nathan Wilder, his best friend and the new captain of the Guardians.