18. Shayla
18
SHAYLA
I hated flying.
It wasn’t the altitude or the act of flying itself. I didn’t like being trapped. Once those doors shut and the wheels started rolling, there was no escaping, and I hated that feeling.
I hated it even more that I had to leave my mother. She started chemo two weeks ago, and the infusions were already making her sick. Luckily, I hadn’t been required to travel with them for the preseason away games and was able to stay home and care for her. Now that the season had officially started, I was expected to go where the team went, at least for the first few weeks. The coaches and GM wanted me around to guide the players and help them maintain their diet while on the road. Most of them would be fine. They were dedicated and liked to stick to their regimen. The rookies, however, still wanted to eat like nine-year-olds at the county fair. I’d have to keep an eye on them to make sure they ate something other than fries and pizza.
So here I was, strapped into a seat on the Wraiths’ private jet with my fingers digging into the armrest. People were still boarding the plane, and we weren’t even ready for takeoff yet, but already anxiety twisted in my stomach like little worms wriggling through my insides. I wanted to puke.
“This seat taken?” The deep voice drew my attention up, up, and up until it landed on the twinkling hazel gaze that plagued my dreams.
“Yes,” I replied through gritted teeth. The last thing I needed was Easton witnessing me freak out during takeoff. I would never hear the end of it. Besides, I had been saving the seat for Claire who was currently immersed in conversation with Coach Bradford.
“Well, whoever you were saving it for isn’t coming. I was the last one on.” The door clicked shut, confirming his claim. Ignoring my glare, he plopped down into the seat next to me.
“Shouldn’t you be with the rest of your team?” I asked, not even trying to hide the snarkiness in my tone. I wanted to scare him off so he’d leave me alone to have my mini panic attack in peace.
“You’re part of the team,” he declared with a cheesy grin, and I fought an eye roll.
“You know what I meant.”
“I think those guys can handle one flight without me,” he said, securing his seat belt. Shit, he really was planning to sit here with me. “Besides, I wouldn't want to deprive you of my company on your first official team flight.”
“Yay me,” I deadpanned, and he let out a throaty chuckle.
“And I need a new audience for my dad jokes. They’re a tough crowd,” he said, motioning to his teammates.
“And you think I won’t be?”
“Oh, I know you will be, but if I can make you laugh, I’ll know which jokes are winners.”
I pressed my lips together to suppress a smile. The idea of Easton Walker telling dad jokes was oddly endearing. Before I could formulate a response, the flight attendant’s voice came over the loudspeaker and instructed everyone to take their seats. Claire made her way down the aisle, her brows lifting in surprise when she noticed Easton occupying the seat meant for her. I gave her a pleading look, unsure what I expected her to do. Throw Easton out of his seat? Instead, she shot me a mischievous grin and slid into the seat across the aisle.
Traitor.
The flight attendant went through her pre-flight spiel, but I tried to tune her out and relax. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep, calming breath, releasing it before opening them again. This was my last chance to bail before being stuck on this aircraft for the next few hours. I had to force myself to stay seated and not demand they open the door and let me out.
“What do you call a rude cow?”
“I-I don’t know,” I replied shakily.
“Beef jerky,” Easton said proudly, and I let out a nervous chuckle.
“That was pretty good,” I admitted.
“I’m just getting started.”
We won three to two in overtime with Easton scoring the winning goal. He seemed to be the missing link to the Wraiths’ success. The team operated like they’d been playing together for years, not months, all this just from adding him to the lineup. Along with Weiss and Kent, our first line forwards were nearly unstoppable. With them at the helm, the Wraiths had a fighting chance at making it to the playoffs. It was a noticeable improvement from the last two years. Maybe Easton was the key to a successful season.
He’d certainly been the key to a non-panic riddled takeoff. He distracted me with his repertoire of corny jokes. They were so bad, so ridiculous that they were actually entertaining. I laughed more at those terrible jokes than I had in the last month. It was refreshing and felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It was exactly the distraction I needed after being with Mom for the start of her treatment. And I had Easton to thank for it.
I smiled to myself at the memory as I made my way back to my hotel room from the lobby, a bag of almonds and a bottle of water in my hands.
“Shayla!” A deep male voice called excitedly from the other end of the hall. I glanced up to find three hulking forms sauntering toward me. A huge grin split Kent’s face as he approached, flanked by Easton and Slater. I swallowed hard as I took in their attire. Each wore board shorts and flip flops with towels draped over their broad, bare shoulders. They were a mural of sculpted muscles and smooth skin.
My throat went dry as my gaze landed on Easton. The other men were cut, but Slater was a rookie and Kent had only been in the league a few years. Easton had been in the game for a decade, between college and professional hockey, and it showed. His muscles were well honed, the deep V of his torso highlighted by the waistband slung low on his hips. His chest and shoulders were broad and well defined. He had the long, strong arms of a man who could toss me around without even breaking a sweat.
“We’re about to hit up the hot tub,” Kent announced, and I snapped my gaze up to meet his. I hoped nobody noticed how long my eyes had lingered on Easton. My cheeks heated at the thought.
“Yeah, I’m hella sore from the game,” Slater added. “I need a good soak to ease the tension in these muscles.” He gripped his shoulder and rubbed. He played hard during the game, taking a couple of brutal hits on the ice. There was no doubt he was starting to feel it.
“You guys played great. You deserve a little rest and relaxation.”
Kent beamed at me, flourishing under my compliments.
“Aw shucks,” he replied playfully, eliciting a giggle from me.
“I’ll let y’all get to it,” I said and attempted to move to the side to let them through.
“You know…” Kent began, his gaze flashing to Easton briefly. Easton hadn’t said a word since approaching me and I wondered what happened to the playful jokester from the flight. “You’re more than welcome to join us.”
Easton shot a sharp look at Kent who was now studiously ignoring him. Was he angry that Kent invited me to join them?
It was on the tip of my tongue to turn him down and retire to my room to watch true crime and eat my snacks, but Easton’s reaction sparked my defiance. The prospect of him not wanting me to come just made me want to join them more. I’d force him to suffer through my company just like he’d forced me to suffer through his. Although, it wasn’t exactly a hardship to sit with him through takeoff and part of the flight. About thirty minutes into it, he was summoned by the coach and made to join his team so they could discuss strategy since there wouldn’t be much time between us landing and faceoff. But for the brief time he sat with me, I forgot all about my dislike of flying.
And of him.
That made his current standoffishness all the more confusing. What changed between then and now? Maybe he hadn’t enjoyed our conversation as much as I had. Either way, he didn’t have to be so aloof and clearly opposed to me joining them.
“You know what? That actually sounds great.” A nervous look settled over Easton’s features, and I smiled triumphantly. “Let me get changed, and I’ll meet you down there.”
We parted ways, and I headed for my room, dumping my wares on the bed before going to my suitcase. Claire warned me I needed to bring my swimsuit whenever we traveled since most of the hotels had swimming pools and hot tubs, and I was thankful I’d listened. I shot off a quick text to let her know where I’d be in case she returned to the room, and I was gone. She’d gone to check up on Quinn who’d taken an awkward fall after losing an edge and hurt his ankle during the second period.
I rifled through the pile of clothes until I found what I was looking for. Plucking the bathing suit from the bottom of my suitcase, I quickly changed and inspected my reflection in the mirror. The suit was a pin-up inspired two piece with high-waisted bottoms and a bustier-style top. It hugged and accentuated my curves exquisitely. The shape was flattering and highlighted all my best assets. It not only made me feel comfortable in my own skin, but it made me feel sexy. My boobs were pushed up to the sky, and my stretch marks were covered. My thighs were thick but shapely thanks to the hours spent in the gym each week. All in all, I felt good.
Slipping on a pair of loose shorts and a tank, I grabbed my room key and headed for the pool area. The guys were already submerged in the hot tub, splitting the distance equally between them. I debated where to sit. Due to his earlier apprehension over me joining them, part of me wanted to sit right next to Easton. He clearly hadn’t wanted me here, and because I was me, I wanted to rub it in his face that I was invited anyway.
However, self-preservation took over. I didn’t want to be so close to him with so few clothes on. Despite my conflicted feelings toward the man—one moment he was insulting me, and the next he was caring for my injury or distracting me to keep me calm during takeoff—my body knew exactly what she wanted from him. Desperate little hussy .
Straightening my spine, I headed for the hot tub, my sights set on the spot between Kent and Slater. That would put me directly across from Easton, but that was better than being next to him.
“There she is,” Kent announced as I approached and placed my phone and room key on the bench.
“Hey, fellas. How’s the water?”
“Perfect,” Slater sighed blissfully, sinking lower into the bubbly depths. I kicked off my shoes before pulling my tank over my head. Slipping my fingers into my waistband, I shimmied my shorts down my legs and tossed them on top of my other belongings. When I looked up, Easton’s gaze bore into me, his jaw flexing before looking away. He almost looked angry, as though the sight of me in a bathing suit irked him.
I rolled my eyes and straightened my shoulders. It would be a cold day in hell before I let him dampen my confidence again. I was in too good of a mood and quite frankly, I was feeling myself in this bathing suit. It was the first one I’d bought myself in years, and I was going to enjoy it.