Plopping down onto the seat beside me, Alyssa dug through her leather backpack for her own comfort items. Once she was settled, she looked over at me, and her eyes lit up when they landed on my book.
She held up an identical copy in her hands. “What are the odds?” she joked, knowing how close I was to Dakota.
Nervous laughter left my lips as the rest of the seats filled, and there was a loud thud, indicating the door was closed. We were sealed inside.
“How about that?” I gave her a weak smile.
Alyssa turned in her seat as I tried to tighten my seatbelt even more. It was digging into my hips, but I didn’t care. “So, tell me. Do you get to read any of her work early?”
“Not when she’s writing. She says it’s too distracting when I ask questions about what scenes are coming up next. Her process is that she doesn’t have one. She flies by the seat of her pants. Her characters are fully in charge and tell her where the story is going. Those are some of thebestscenes where they take over.”
Completely entranced by my description of Dakota’s writing, her eyes widened. “Really,” she breathed out.
“I mean, it makes sense. It’s their story; shouldn’t they have a say in how it goes?”
“Huh. Never thought about it that way,” Alyssa mused.
“So, even though she doesn’t let me read it early, she always makes sure I have a copy on release day.” I flip open the front cover and show it to my new friend. “And it’s always signed.”
Alyssa leaned over to read the inscription. “That’s awesome. Do you think—do you think she would sign mine?”
“Of course. She loves connecting with readers.” I threw her a wink. “And I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you.”
“That would be incredible.” She gripped her copy tighter. “I’ve seen her around the rink after games, but I’ve always been too afraid to ask. I didn’t want to overstep the line of the players’ private lives.”
I waved my free hand. “She’s the best, seriously. Maybe we can all get together sometime after a game. Have you ever been to Pipes?”
Her jaw dropped. “You’vebeen to Pipes?”
Why did she say that like it was strange that I had been? Was it because I was new?
“Uh, yeah.”
Alyssa huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Man, perks of being friends with a player’s girlfriend.”
My hackles raised. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just that”—she peeked around the cabin—“the press is kind of not allowed in there. Especially after games. It’s the players’ place.”
“Oh.” My stomach bottomed out. The last thing I needed was to give off the appearance of getting special treatment.
She placed a hand on my arm when she saw me deflate. “I’m sure if they invited you, it’s fine.”
“I would never abuse my relationship with Dakota and Braxton for a scoop,” I vowed. “That’s not how I want to get ahead.”
“Of course not.” Alyssa nodded sympathetically.
Great. First, I sleep with the head coach. And then I find out the only reason that became possible was because my best friend and her boyfriend took me to the one place that was off-limits to the press. It was a perfect storm, and I’d been caught right in the middle of it.
No wonder Maddox thought I had ulterior motives for taking him home that night.
The engines roared to life, and my breathing hitched. My book lay abandoned on my lap as both hands gripped the armrests as the plane rolled forward.
“Nervous flier?” Alyssa asked, eyeing my white-knuckled death grip.
“Something like that,” I muttered, willing my racing heart to settle.
She placed a warm hand over mine on our shared armrest. “Only downside to flying with the team is no booze. That usually helps take the edge off. But it’s a quick up and down to Pittsburgh. We’ll be there before you know it.”
