Page 67 of War

“But check our website. My schedule is posted there. And you can sign up that way too.” His gaze volleys between me and the group of girls who are now running in circles in his studio.

“Great, I’ll look for that.”

He focuses on me again. “Or I could text it to you,Mrs.?”

“A-Ava,” I stammer. “Just Ava.”

His lips curl in a satisfied smirk. “Okay, Ava. I’m Benoir.”

“Benoir,” I repeat slowly with a nod and a smile, hoping the flush creeping up my neck isn’t visible. “It’s nice to meet you. How about you put your number in my phone, and I’ll text you so you have mine?” I hold the device out like I have the first clue what I’m doing. It kind of feels like he’s flirting, but honestly, before Xander, I barely talked to men, let alone flirted. I don’t even understand how Xander and I ended up together. He just appeared while I was out with the girls one night, and after that, he seemed to be everywhere I went. At the coffee shop and even the grocery store. We ran into each other so often it began to feel like a joke. Though he swore it was fate stepping in and asked if I’d run into him at dinner.

There was no need to try to flirt. It just happened. Butthis? It definitely feels like flirting.

And maybe it’s wrong, but I kind of like it.

“Can we get ice cream after ballet?” Josie asks as Benoir passes my phone back to me and strides back into class.

Ducking my head, I cup her cheek and smile. “Maybe after dinner.”

“Aw, man, I’ll never have room for ice cream in my belly after Maria’s lasagna.”

With a laugh, I press a kiss to her forehead. “Then how would you have room for Maria’s lasagna in your belly after ice cream?”

She shrugs. “Priorities, Ava. We eat the ice cream, but we don’t tell Maria.”

I arch a brow at her. We both know we won’t lie to the woman who does so much for us.

“Is Tyler going to be home tonight?”

Speak of the devil. The moment she says his name, a text from him appears. I lock my phone screen before I get dragged into something I don’t have time for.

“Tomorrow. But I think he has a game,” I tell her. “Now go. The break is over.”

“You’ll stay?”

I point to a bench behind the glass wall. “I’ll be right there watching you the whole time.”

With a grin, she skips back into class. And as I shuffle back to the bench, I take out my phone, preparing myself for whatever he has to say.

Tyler: Come to the game tomorrow night.

I stare at it for a few seconds, my stomach in knots, before hastily typing a reply.

Me: Are you summoning me?

Tyler: It’s been a week. We need to talk, and I’d rather not do it with the kids around. Come to my game. We’ll talk after.

Tyler: You signed the contract.

Me: And I told you what you could do with it.

Tyler: I signed it too. Now it’s binding. Come to my game tomorrow, Vicious. We need to talk.

Me: You’re an ass.

Tyler: I’m aware. For the record, the contract was a joke. Hall sent it. And if you’d pick up your damn phone when I call, you would know that.

Me: I’ll be sure to thank Hall for all the orgasms last night, then.

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