Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
LYDIA
Lydia
Meet the newest member of the family >
Troy
You adopted a dog?!
Angie
Oh my God, Lyd! He is so cute!
Derek
Do you have time for a dog?
Mom
And in your apartment?
Yes. The adoption coordinator came out yesterday since I’m leaving today and said it would be more than enough room for him
Troy
Can we get a dog, Ang?
Angie
Baby first, then a dog
Troy
Damn
Angie
What’s his name?
Troy
You should name him after your favorite hockey player, Troy something…Hollins maybe?
I can’t name him Lydia. That would be too confusing
Troy
Ouch!
Angie
Yes! Go Lydia!
Troy
Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side!
And this is why Angie is my favorite
Troy
Rude
Mom
What are you calling him?
Derek
Way to change the subject, dear
Mom
I try
Biscuit
Troy
Fitting
Troy
Troy would have been a good second choice
Derek
Or tenth
Troy
Gee, thanks Dad
Troy
See if I give you grandpa of the year award
I’ll definitely be aunt of year
Troy
Maybe
Angie
You totally will
Troy
You’re killing me, Ang
Angie
Love you too
Gotta go! Off to Miami
I’ll send more pics when I get Biscuit
Mom
Have a safe trip. Love you
Derek
Safe travels. Love you, Lydia
Angie
Have fun at the shoot! Can’t wait to see pictures
Thanks! Take care of my niece
“Hey.”
Stuffing my phone in my bag, I look up to see Delaney in front of me in the private terminal for our flight.
Standing in a lightweight Rosebuds jacket that goes to her knees, her face is bare of makeup and a Rosebuds knit cap covers her head.
“Hey.”
“Looking at cute pictures of your dog?” She smirks.
“More like telling my family I’m getting a dog.”
“You got approved then?”
“Yeah. Jane came over yesterday to do a walkthrough. Only two weeks until he’ll be ready, and I’ll be able to bring Biscuit home.”
“That’s great.”
“Excuse me, Miss Bishop?” A young woman in a pencil skirt and blazer walks up to us. “We’re ready to depart if you’d care to follow me to the plane.”
“Thank you.”
Wheeling our bags behind us, we follow her to where a smaller jet is waiting by the hangar.
“This is what you get with your new sponsorship?” Delaney asks, jaw dropping.
“I wasn’t planning on this. I would have been just fine on a big ol’ commercial plane.”
We head up the narrow stairs to the plane, and once we’re inside, another crew member takes our bags and stows them for us. There’s one couch and a few seats lining the aisle.
“Can I get either of you something to drink for the flight?” our attendant asks us.
“I’ll take a glass of champagne if you have any.” I’ll need something to settle my nerves. Not only for the flight but for being in a cramped space with Delaney for the next three hours.
“A Dirty Shirley?” Delaney asks.
“Coming right up.” She smiles at both of us as we pick seats across from each other.
“I see some things haven’t changed,” I say.
Unzipping my jacket, I stuff it into the small compartment overhead and take my seat.
“What can I say? I like what I like.”
Delaney is sitting in her seat, eyes raking over me. Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?
I opted for a pair of leggings and a black cropped top paired with an oversized cardigan to travel in. I shed the cardigan, needing to cool off.
“I won’t disturb you, but if you need anything, just press the call button. I’m up front with the pilots,” our flight attendant tells us as she brings our drinks.
“Thank you so much.”
“Has anything changed since I last saw you?” I ask Delaney, double-checking to make sure my seatbelt is securely fastened as we take off down the runway.
I guess the one upside to traveling by private jet is there’s no waiting in line. Which means my nerves don’t have time to unseat themselves.
She smiles at me. “I see nothing has changed with you.”
“Hey.” I point a finger at her. “Having a healthy fear of planes is completely normal.”
“Is that why you’re breaking your ‘no drinking during the season’ rule?” She nods to the glass in my hand.
I take a sip. “Yes. It helps with the nerves.”
“Is the flight the only thing triggering your nerves right now?”
She smiles at me. The one that I always missed when she left. It’s soft, happy. Like she’s privy to a secret that not many know about me.
“What else would make me nervous?” I quirk a brow at her. The plane lifts from the ground, the city falling away around us.
“Can I confess something?” Delaney asks, sipping on her drink.
“Yes.”
A finger circles the rim of her glass. “Being around you makes me nervous.”
“Really? Why?”
“I mean, like here.” She waves a finger around the plane. “At the rink? I’m cool as a cucumber. But just the two of us? It feels…”
“More intimate?” I finish for her.
“Yeah.” She lets out a breathy sigh before taking another sip of her drink.
Dirty thoughts lodge themselves in my head. What I wouldn’t give to lean over to taste that sweet drink on her lips. To taste the cherries.
With only the two of us in the cabin on this plane, I could do whatever I want right now. But Delaney? She’s the rule follower.
I don’t want her to reject me. I lost her once. Being shot down again? I don’t know if I could take it.
Again, I shouldn’t even be entertaining the idea. It’s against the league’s no fraternization policy.
“Then let’s talk about something…not intimate.”
“Like what?” Delaney brings her legs up onto the seat, turning to face me fully.
“Like…” I grab my bag from the seat and fish around for what I’m looking for. “Friendship bracelets?”
Delaney’s laughter echoes around the cabin as we start to level off. “You still make those?”
“What?” I scoff. “They are fun to make.”
“And distract you from the flight.” She shakes her head. “I’m glad some things haven’t changed.”
Friendship bracelets—the old-school kind made with thread—was my way to make friends when playing hockey growing up. There weren’t that many girls’ leagues in Southern California. Travel was a regular part of life growing up.
Because of it, I met more people than I ever could have imagined. Which is why I loved making friends with all the girls I played with.
“Do you still have the one I made for you?” I ask, starting to make complicated knots in the thread.
“Maybe…”
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” I say, separating the threads and hooking it around the notch on the back of the seat in front of me.
I like to think that she still has a small piece of me. Even though we didn’t part on the best of terms, I never stopped thinking of her.
Out of nowhere, the plane takes an unexpected dip. It doesn’t stop shaking as we hit a patch of turbulence.
“Sorry, ladies. We’ve got some rough air coming up for the next thirty minutes or so. Please make sure your seatbelts are fastened,” the flight attendant says, popping her head out to let us know.
I grab the belt and tighten mine. Delaney, on the other hand, grabs her bag and drink then unbuckles hers.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
She steps over me, taking the window seat next to me. “Making sure you’re okay.”
“I don’t think that’s in your coachly duties,” I remind her.
“It’s going to be a long flight if you’re over here stressing.”
Another bump and my hands grab onto the armrests as I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Who says I’m stressed?”
“I do. Now, would you like an actual distraction?”
Turning my head, I peek one eye open at her. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well—”
“And don’t say join the mile-high club. We are not doing that.”
Delaney laughs and it slides over me like honey. God, I missed that sound.
“Don’t worry, Lyd. I wasn’t going to suggest that.” She fishes around in her bag and pulls out a package of markers. “Temporary tattoos.”
“You’re still doing that?”
Delaney pokes me in the bicep with her colored pen. “Like you, it was always a good distraction. I don’t do it as often, but I have them when needed.”
“Care to play a game?” I ask, taking the pen from her.
“Tic-tac-toe?” She smiles at me.
“Only if we can do it on you.”
Delaney quirks a brow. “Sure.”
Pulling up the sleeve of her gray sweater, she rests her arm across the armrest. Taking the red marker, I draw a board on her arm. “You know we can only play once. Unless you want X’s and O’s drawn all over you.”
“Maybe one game. Then you can draw on me.”
“I love that you’re still doing this.” I mark an X in one corner.
“You have your distractions. I have mine.”
“Because you’re too chicken to get a tattoo.” I laugh.
“Okay.” Delaney points the pen at me, not before making an O in the middle of the board. “You have a healthy fear of planes. I have one of needles. I can have a tattoo and it washes off.”
“After this, I’m giving you a tattoo.”
“Cherries, please.”
I make another mark. “That’s the tattoo you’d want?”
“Yes. It’s sweet and innocent, but sensual.”
“Kind of like you.”
“Is that how you see me?” she asks.
I draw a line connecting my three X’s. “I win. And mostly, but more sensual.”
“Are you going to draw my tattoo now?” Delaney asks, a teasing lilt to her voice.
“Where do you want it?”
The bumps of the plane go mostly ignored as she shifts, rolling up the sleeve on her other arm. “Here.”
Finding the two markers I need, I start tracing an outline of the cherry stems. Her skin is soft. So damn soft I’m having trouble concentrating.
This is the exact opposite of making things less intimate. Being in this enclosed space. Breathing her air. All it does is make me want her more.
Delaney looks at the drawing on her arm. “You know, if this hockey thing doesn’t work out, you could have a future as a tattoo artist.”
“You think so? Because that’s not exactly an award-winning drawing.”
I smile, tracing the poorly drawn stem.
“Eh. I like it because it’s from you.”
Her dark eyes lock on to mine.
Desire.
Want.
Need.
Her emotions are all over the place. It pulls me in closer. Drawing me in as her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip.
Her own eyes flash to my mouth. I bite down onto my lip. I want this. More than anything.
Just as I move even closer, the sound of the overhead chime causes me to jump back into my seat.
“We’ve found clear skies, ladies. If you’d like, you can unbuckle your seatbelts and I’ll bring you some fresh drinks,” the flight attendant’s voice rings out.
It breaks the swirling tension between the two of us.
“Right.” Delaney unclicks her seatbelt. “I should probably get back to studying film.”
“Good idea.”
She moves over me back to her seat. Headphones securely in place, the video playing on her tablet is the only thing she’s paying attention to.
Fuck.
We can’t cross that line. We got too close to it.
But I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to resist this woman.