“Another game, Zanders. Another game, you left the arena alone. What the hell is going on?”
With my phone held tightly to my cheek, I plug the opposite
ear, attempting to block out some of the noise from the busy tarmac here in Phoenix. But regardless of the airplane engines buzzing or my teammates shuffling past me to get on our plane, I can still hear Rich loud and clear. His raised and frustrated voice helps with that.
“Rich, I’ve told you plenty of times to stop setting up girls to wait for me outside of the locker room. The media gets the narrative. They don’t need more pictures with more chicks to help sell my image.”
“Really? Because you haven’t been pictured with anyone since mid- November, and I need to know what’s going on. You refuse to leave the arena with anyone. You haven’t been caught out on the town. So, what is it? You need to fill me in.”
For fuck’s sake. I want him off my back. This season is the first time I’ve realized how over the whole “unlovable bad-boy” image I have. And I haven’t been pictured with anyone since mid-November because that’s when Stevie commented on it while we were trick or treating for Ella. I haven’t slept with anyone since her, but I didn’t like her thinking I had. So, I decided to make it loud and clear that it’s been her and only her.
“Nothing is going on, Rich. I’m just tired of it all.”
Maddison pats me on the shoulder as he shuffles around me, heading to the airplane stairs. “You good?” he silently mouths, turning around to face me as he continues to the plane.
I nod in agreement, but there’s a whole lot of frustration when I roll my eyes. Maddison knows what’s up. He’s been trying to convince me to fire Rich for weeks now. But firing your agent during a re-signing year, no matter how frustrating he is, is career suicide.
Turning my back to the plane, I continue to pace the tarmac as my team boards the aircraft.
“Tired of what, Zanders? Tired of making millions of dollars a year? Tired of having people fawn all over you? Tired of women throwing themselves at you?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
“What is going on with you? You’re doing this now? You’re five months away from a possible re-signing with the only team you want to play for in the NHL. You want to throw that away? Be my guest. Chicago pays you the money they pay you because of the image you and Maddison bring to the table, outside of just hockey. But I’ll find you another team who will probably pay you a whole lot less if that’s what you want to do.”
“Pay me a whole lot less or pay you a whole lot less?” I mutter under my breath.
“What was that?”
I contemplate giving him a piece of my mind about how I know he only cares how big my paychecks are because he’s getting a percentage, but I don’t. I keep my mouth shut.
“Nothing.”
“Who’s your date to the gala?”
Now, that’s a question I’ve asked myself multiple times over the last few weeks. The only person I want to take is Stevie, but there’s going to be too much press there. I know she couldn’t go with me due to that pesky fraternization rule. But regardless of that, I don’t even know if she’d want to go with me.
“No one. I’m going alone.”
“Fucking hell, Zanders. No, you’re not. There will be too much media there for you to be alone. I’ll set you up with a date if you don’t want to find your own.”
“No, Rich. I’m holding my ground on this one. That night is way too important to me to be faking it with some fucking puck bunny for some pictures. We’re not messing with Active Minds. Do what you want with my
image when it comes to hockey, but if it starts affecting the foundation or the kids, then I’m out.”
Silence lingers on the line between us.
“Fine. But you have five months to amp back up to the Evan Zanders Chicago knows and loves, or I can guarantee you, you’ll lose your contract and be on a plane to bum-fuck nowhere playing for a city you don’t want to be in.”
The line goes dead. Dick.
“EZ!” Scott, our team manager, calls out from the top of the stairs, right outside the main door of the airplane. “You ready?”
Looking around the tarmac, I realize I’m the last to board the plane. I hustle up the stairs just as the lead flight attendant closes the door behind me.
“Everything good, man?” Maddison lightly knocks me in the chest as I take my seat next to him.
“Rich is fucking killing me.” “Fire him.”
“I can’t. That’d be worse for my career than what he’s threatening me with now.”
“Which is?”
“The usual. Chicago not wanting to re-sign me if I fuck up our little duo we have going. That if people start to figure out that I don’t give a shit about owning the persona the media has me made out to be that the fans won’t want me.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
Actually, I don’t know it. Rich is on the money with one of my biggest fears that if people figure out I’m not the EZ they’ve grown accustomed to, they won’t love me anymore.
“I swear to God he’s way too obsessed with your personal life that I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s getting a payout from the tabloids or newspapers to leak information about where you’re at or who you’re with.”
Shrugging, I stay silent. At this point, nothing would surprise me, but regardless, it all feels real defeating, like I’m stuck with this image for the rest of my career.
“Zee,” Maddison says, slightly under his breath. “Rich works for you. You’re in control here. As much as he likes to make you think you don’t,
you hold all the power.”
Nodding in agreement, I lean my head back on the headrest behind me, drained. As if the grueling overtime win wasn’t wearing enough on my body, that phone call with Rich has taken its toll on my mind.
I want to stop with all the stupid games. I want to leave the arena alone without anyone questioning me. I want Chicago to re-sign me with no doubt of what I bring to the organization. I want Stevie to be allowed to hang out with me. I want Stevie to want to hang out with me.
I also really want to kiss her.
And tonight, I’m real tired of not doing the things I want to do.
“I’m gonna call Logan quickly before we take off.” Maddison turns towards the window, dialing his wife. “Happy New Year, baby!”
Oh, did I not mention it was New Year’s Eve, and we have a red-eye flight back to Chicago that will have us flying somewhere over Kansas at midnight?
Because it is, and the only girl I want to kiss when the clock strikes twelve just so happens to be on this airplane. But I can’t touch her. Not here, and maybe not at all.
“How’s Logan?” I ask as Maddison hangs up with his wife.
“She’s good.” He smiles to himself. “She got her dress for the gala.” I stay silent, knowing what’s about to come.
“I can’t wait to take it off her.”
Shaking my head, I can’t help but laugh. Giddy motherfucker. “Rich is on my ass about taking a date.”
“Then do it. We both know who you want to take, so why don’t you ask her? She’s right there.” He nods towards the back of the plane. “Here, let’s do it now.” Maddison’s hand reaches up to the flight attendant call light above his head, but before his fingers reach it, I swat them away just in time.
“Don’t.” My voice is quiet yet stern. “She can’t go with me.” “Why not?”
“Because there will be way too much press there, and she’s not allowed to fraternize with us.”
“That’s fucking dumb.”
“Tell me about it.” I exhale a resigned sigh as I lean back in my chair once again. “Besides, I don’t know if she’d even want to go with me.” My
voice is as hushed as it could be. “As far as I know, our little hookup was a one and done for her.”
Speaking of the sexy devil herself, Stevie comes to the exit row for the safety demo, showing the back half of the airplane how to use the safety equipment, just as she does before every flight.
“Let’s ask her.” Maddison leans forward in his seat to speak to my favorite flight attendant.
“Don’t you dare.” Once again, my volume is low, but my words are punctuated.
Stevie’s gaze narrows at us before resuming her safety demonstration. She keeps her eyes forward, holding the faux seat belt over her head, but speaks to Maddison and me. “Why do you two over there seem even more in love with each other than usual tonight?”
Maddison’s lips lift in a sneaky smirk. He opens his mouth to speak, and his eyes twinkle with amusement as he looks over at me, testing me.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” My voice is as quiet as I can make it. “If you say anything, I will end you. Then I’ll marry your wife just to spite you, and your son will grow up calling me Daddy.”
“Oh, fuck you!” Maddison isn’t trying to be quiet at all. “Stevie, Zee wants you to be his date to a charity gala in Chicago, but he’s too chicken shit to ask and doesn’t think you’d want to go with him.”
“I fucking hate you. We are no longer friends.”
Maddison sits back in his seat, his smug as fuck grin resting on his lips as Stevie’s cute giggle echoes from the aisle.
If my cheeks could change color, I’d be blushing like a little girl right now as I turn back to look at her. Thankfully, nothing about her expression seems all that thrown off. If anything, she’s purely amused by my ex-best friend and me.
“I can’t.” Which are the words I knew she’d say but hearing what I already knew doesn’t suck any less.
Also, that doesn’t clarify if it’s that she can’t because of her job or if she can’t because she doesn’t want to.
“That’s what I told him.” My smile feels tight and forced, but I’m trying to act as nonchalant as possible.
“No, I mean I can’t go with you.”
Yes, thank you, Stevie. Please bruise my ego a little more, sweetheart. “Because I’m already going.”
Well, that causes my head to snap up real quick. “With my brother.”
Oh. I didn’t think of that. Of course, Ryan Shay will be there. All the big names in Chicago sports will be.
Oh, this could be good. The hopeful glint in my eyes and the slight lift at my lips says precisely that.
This could be perfect.
I’ll be at the gala solo, and no one will be able to question why Stevie is there since she’ll be there with her brother.
Yeah, this is fucking perfect.
“Who’s your brother?” Maddison’s brows furrow in genuine confusion as he looks from Stevie back to me.
Stevie’s eyes connect with mine for a moment in confusion before they soften, realizing that I didn’t even tell my best friend. Sorry…ex-best friend. But of course, I didn’t. She was keeping it a secret even from me, so it’s not like I’m going to go around spilling her business.
And like I said, I don’t give a shit that Ryan Shay is her brother.
Except right now. Right now, I’m real stoked that he is because he’s going to get the girl to the gala, and that’s all I could ask for.
“Um…” she hesitates. “His name is Ryan Shay. He plays basketball for Chicago.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Maddison’s mouth drops open. “Okay,” Stevie laughs.
“Wait. You’re for real? Your brother is Ryan Shay?”
She nods, continuing to chuckle at Maddison’s excitement. But knowing him, more than anything, he’s excited to tell his wife and brother, who are huge basketball fans.
“Yeah. He owns the apartment in your building. I’m staying with him at the moment.”
“Holy fucking shit. My wife is going to lose her mind.”
Looking up at Stevie standing in the exit row, I shoot her an apologetic smile for my guy fanboying over her brother, but she doesn’t seem all that bothered by it. She’s more so amused. Maybe what I said to her, that I like her regardless of her sibling, sunk in.
“By the way, my wife Logan was excited to meet you that day we went trick or treating,” Maddison adds, bringing it back to Stevie, which I’m thankful for.
“She seems great.”
“She’s the fucking best.” This time it’s me chiming in, and Maddison wears a soft smile at the statement.
“The fucking best,” he agrees.
And apparently, we’re best friends again.
“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing her at the gala then. And both of you too?” Her eyes dart to me.
Of course, she’ll be seeing us both. Does she not realize that this gala is a fundraiser for Active Minds of Chicago, the charity that Maddison and I are co-founders of?
“Save me a dance?” My tone comes out a bit too desperate and hopeful but fuck it. I am.
She playfully raises a single brow before her counteroffer. “Stop pushing the flight attendant call light?”
“See, those two things don’t really seem equivalent at all.” “How badly do you want a dance?”
My lips lift in a knowing smile. The answer to that? Real fucking badly. I don’t respond because I don’t have to. She knows. That playful smirk sitting on her full lips tells me just that, and the light squeeze she gives my
shoulder as she walks by reaffirms it.
“Wipe that stupid grin off your face,” Maddison laughs.
I continue to smile, way too happy about this situation. “Can’t help it.” “You know you legitimately like her, right? I’m not sure if you’re
aware, but you do.”
A content sigh leaves my lips. “Yeah, I know.”
Most everyone is asleep a couple of hours into our flight. I’ve dozed off here and there, but for the most part, I’m awake.
Somehow my internal alarm wakes me up anytime Stevie walks down the airplane aisle, and I open my eyes just in time to get a perfect view. Whether it’s her amazing ass as she walks up front or her stunning face as she shoots me a soft grin each time she walks to the back.
It’s a ten out of ten either way.
The plane is pitch black minus the slight glow of light coming from the front and back galleys so no one can see that my head is on a swivel, constantly checking the rear of the plane, looking for an opening to talk to Stevie alone.
Talk.
Kiss.
Either or.
But it is almost midnight, and I wouldn’t mind starting my year with
her.
“You’re awake, huh?”
My head snaps back to the dark area around me, finding one of the other
flight attendants standing by my seat.
I don’t know her name, but it’s the one that has a problem with Stevie fraternizing with us. With me.
“Uh, yeah. Can’t sleep.”
She bends down, crouching next to my seat, and making herself eye level with me. “Can I get you anything?”
“Nope. I’m good.” My eyes dart to the back galley again, but I can’t see Stevie, though I know she’s back there. Indy, as Stevie reminded me of her name, stands in plain view in the rear of the airplane, her eyes flickering to my seat, watching.
“Any New Years’ plans?” the third flight attendant asks. “You’re looking at them.”
“You haven’t been out much while on the road. There haven’t been any tabloid shots as of late.”
“Um, yeah. Not really into going out these days.” “Well, that’s a shame because I was hoping—”
“Hey, Tara,” Indy interrupts. “One of the pilots needs one of us to swap him out so he can use the lavatory. If you want to go into the cockpit, I’ll watch the front and cover the door.”
“Oh.” Tara stands, brushing her skirt smooth, and acting as casual as can be as if she wasn’t dangerously close to teetering that fraternization line she’s so strict on Stevie about. “Yeah, we should do that.”
Tara turns on her heel, her shoulders straightening out and her resting bitch face coming back real quick as she heads towards the front of the plane.
Indy follows behind, but before she’s too far ahead, she shifts to look at me over her shoulder, shooting me a knowing wink. Turning back to realize the galley is empty sans one curly-haired girl, I offer Indy a cheeky smile before she’s up and out of sight.
Blondie is the captain of this ship, apparently.
As quietly as possible, attempting not to wake any of my teammates, I sneak my ass down the aisle to the back of the airplane, where I know Stevie is hiding away.
“Hey,” I softly say, unable to hold back my way too hopeful grin when I find Stevie alone. I place my hands on either side of the partition, separating the galley from the rest of the plane, casually blocking us from anyone else.
“Hey.” Her cheeks instantly flush under her freckles. “Happy New Year.”
Stevie checks her watch. “You’ve still got a few more minutes.” “So, this gala…”
“Yes?”
“You’re going.”
“Yes,” she giggles.
“That’s cool.” Nodding my head like an idiot. “Or whatever.”
“Or whatever.” Her smile is bright, clearly recognizing I’m way too happy about this.
I take a step into the galley, and Stevie’s expression instantly shifts. Her feet retract back, keeping the same distance between us.
The playful smile on her lips is gone, most likely because mine is too. I can feel the fire and want in my eyes as I corner her by taking another step forward. Only this time, she has nowhere to go, so her back hits the wall behind her as her mouth drops open. But still, I keep about a foot between us, not bombarding her space too much.
Not until she tells me she wants me to.
“And if you weren’t going with your brother, would you be going with me?” My voice is low and thick.
Stevie doesn’t respond, but I watch her throat bob in a swallow as the pulse in her neck pounds against the delicate flesh.
“If you couldn’t get in trouble, would you be going with me?”
Again, she doesn’t respond, her pretty eyes filled with all the words she wants to say but won’t.
“Say yes,” I whisper. “Tell me you’d go with me. Tell me you want to go with me.”
I need her to say yes, not just to inflate my ego, but because I need to know I’m not crazy. I need to know that she feels it too. That she likes being around me just as much. That she likes talking to me just as much. That she likes fucking me just as much. That she likes teasing me just as much.
“Happy mother-fucking New Year!” Rio yells from his seat, waking up the entire plane and startling me, causing me to jump back from the flight attendant who could get in trouble for our position.
Rio blasts his boom box as loud as possible, music blaring through the aircraft as cheers and shouts echo throughout the airplane. I peek down the aisle, seeing all my teammates wake up, a few of them dancing to the loud as fuck music.
Stevie slips her hand in mine, bringing my attention back to her as she hides in the corner of the galley for no one else to see, her back pressed against the wall.
She tugs the fabric of my shirt, bringing me to stand only inches in front of her. My palms find the wall behind her on either side of her head, caging her in.
I’m painfully aware that my chest is rising and falling more rapidly than it should, but this girl has had me off my game for months now, and I’m nervously breathing like there might not be any oxygen left on board soon.
What is she going to do? What is she going to let me do?
Looking up at me behind those dark lashes, Stevie’s eyes bounce between mine. There’s a touch of uncertainty in those blue-greens. Like she’s not sure what’s she’s doing. Like she’s not sure if she can say it.
But she seems like she wants to say it. Say it.
“Yes.” She bites her bottom lip. “I wish I could go with you.”
“Good Day” blares through the aircraft, wafting from the boom box speakers as my mouth lifts on one side. My tongue slyly wets my lips as Stevie’s eyes trail the movement, asking them to come closer without saying a word.
And when she hooks two fingers into the gold chain around my neck, bringing my mouth to hers, I know it’s going to be a good day.
It’s going to be a good fucking year.
My mouth covers hers, needing, wanting, taking everything she has to offer.
Her hand curves around my neck, pulling me in, her metal rings cooling the heat of my skin. I lean into her, pushing her up against the side of the aircraft, needing to get as close as I can, needing everything.
My hands leave the wall, and instead, cup both her cheeks as her lips part open, her tongue sweeping in and finding mine. She’s soft and warm, and for someone who has never been one for intimate kissing, I can’t imagine not having this moment.
Her hips rhythmically push into mine with want, and the moan that leaves my throat is loud, but thankfully Rio’s music covers up my desperate and hungry sounds.
The plane is getting louder, the boys are getting rowdier, and I need to stop so I don’t get Stevie in trouble.
But, fuck, I don’t want to stop. So, I don’t.
My tongue explores her, swiping and tasting, our lips moving in perfect sync, not missing a beat, like we were made to do this with each other.
Finally, and unfortunately, Stevie pulls back slightly, breaking the connection. But the content smile she’s wearing on her swollen lips holds no sign of regret—just satisfaction.
Fuck, I like kissing her.
Keeping my tatted hands covering her jaw, I lean my forehead on hers, both of us trying to fill our lungs with the oxygen we deprived ourselves of for a little too long.
“Happy New Year,” I whisper into her lips. “Happy New Year.” She smiles.
The amount of eye contact going on right now would’ve been alarming a few months ago, but I can’t find the will to look away.
I want it.
I want her.
She holds my stare, both of us equally content in this place.
“I’ll take a sparkling water,” I softly say, ruining the moment because I have to before someone comes back here.
My cheeky smile is filled with amusement as Stevie playfully pushes my chest away.
“Get out of here,” she laughs.
Finding myself exceptionally hilarious, I chuckle right along with her before I head back to my seat. I take one step out of the galley before changing my mind and quickly turning back to steal one more swift kiss, away from anyone’s sight.
“Extra limes, sweetheart.” I linger right above her lips. “I hate you.”
