Page 14 of Drawn to You

He returns his attention to me. “Where’s the happy place? Is it a beach?”

He has no concern at all for my well-being. He just doesn’t want me puking next to him. The plane starts moving again and I take a deep breath in and out.

“It’s hot,” I say, my hands aching from squeezing the armrests so hard.

“Stop thinking about that,” he says, annoyed. “Happy place. Lapping waves. Frozen drinks.”

The plane is moving faster now and my stomach is in a free fall.

“That is my happy place,” I say, cringing. “It’s filled with flames. It’s a literal inferno.” I press myself against the back ofthe seat as the plane lifts off. “The guys who invented pantyhose and shapewear are there and it’s run by a guy named Lucifer.”

“Your happy place is hell?” he asks, confused.

“As long as you’re not there, yes,” I manage, bringing the bag up to my mouth.

“Real nice, Nosy,” he grumbles. “I’m trying to help you here and that’s the thanks I get?”

I can’t hold on any longer. It’s a good thing I didn’t eat this morning because my stomach won’t rest until it’s empty. I puke into the bag, tears running from the corners of my eyes.

“Poor thing,” someone says from behind us. “My son gets motion sickness.”

I turn away from Dane, keeping a tight hold on the bag. We’re flying from Minneapolis to Tampa, so I may be in for three hours of this.

And it’s just the beginning of this road trip. From Tampa, we’re flying to Boston, then to Toronto and then home.

I feel the heat of Dane’s body as he leans closer to me. “I’m putting my headphones on. Will you nudge me before you barf so I can try to move out of the way?”

He’s the most inconsiderate jackass I’ve ever had the misfortune of working for. He deserves to be puked on.

“Yeah, I’ll nudge you with my foot,” I fire back. “It might hurt.”

He chuckles. “With your little pixie feet? I doubt it.”

Somehow, I have to get my hands on one of those park bench photos. I’d never share them with anyone, but to get to see Dane in a compromising position?

That, I would enjoy a lot.

CHAPTER SIX

Josie

“Josie, wake up!”

With a gasp, I open my eyes and survey the scene around me. I’m sitting at a long table in a bar, the rest of the table filled with Mammoths players passing around shot glasses filled with amber liquid.

“You want one?” Dalton Lorenzo asks me, holding out a shot glass.

I recognize his voice as the one who woke me up. I can’t believe I fell asleep in a crowded bar.

Then again, I’m about to doze off again. After hardly sleeping last night and being sick for the whole three-hour flight to Tampa, I wandered off the plane in a daze.

The weather is nice here. It’s in the ’70s. Normally, I’d love to check out the local scenery. But after a two-hour dinner with the team at an Italian restaurant, I was ready for bed. Unfortunately, though, Dane wanted to go out with his teammates. So here I am, technically on the job but also unable to stay awake.

“No, thanks,” I tell Dalton, looking around the table for Dane.

He was right next to me, but now there’s another player sitting there. I think his name is Banks.

Banks gives me a tight grin and says, “Hey, you’ve got a little...”

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