Page 36 of Pucking the Team
Chapter Nine
Dylan led me into the hotel lobby with one arm still locked around me. I was glad of it. My knees were watery; I didn’t quite have control over them. I feared they might give out and I’d crumple to the tiled floor in a heap.
What the hell was Steven thinking? How dare he turn up like that? How dare he threaten to fill the gossip magazines with scandal about me when he knew I cherished privacy?
Theo studied me under the bright lights. “You okay? You’re real pale.”
“Not really…but I will be.” My voice also didn’t sound like mine. There was a quiver to it that rarely revealed itself.
“He won’t harass you again,” Ben said. “Not while we’re around.”
“Thank you, all of you,” I managed and swiped at a tear that had overspilled. It was a tear of anger and frustration more than heartbreak. “I’m so glad you turned up when you did.”
“Me, too.” A tendon flexed in Eduardo’s cheek. “That creep wasn’t taking no for an answer.”
I recalled the kiss. I’d had no say in it. He’d held me like he’d owned me. How far would he have gone? Was he planning on bundling me into his car and…
Another sob caught in my throat. I was embarrassed by it. I was usually in more control of myself.
“Do you want to go to your room?” Dylan asked.
“B…but it’s Ben’s…room. I shouldn’t even still be here and—”
“It’s your room.” Ben drew his eyebrows together. “I’ll bunk in with Theo again, no problem. It’s your room.”
I didn’t have time to say thank you, because Dylan steered me to the elevator and pressed the button.
While staring at the numbers as they made their way to the ground floor, I was attacked by a full-body tremble. The shock of Steven not being there one moment and then suddenly appearing had induced a large shot of adrenaline.
“Come on.” Dylan urged me into the elevator.
The doors closed, and I stared at our reflections in the mirror walls. We were nearly the same height—he was a fraction taller—and he was twice as wide as me, easily. And where my arms were long and lean, his were roped with muscles, as were his shoulders. His eyebrows were heavy and his dark eyes shadowed with a heavy brooding expression. His lips were a tight line, seeming to be holding in words.
“Ask me then,” I said.
“What?” he said gruffly.
“Why Steven thinks he can go to the press about me. Why the press would be interested.”
“That’s none of my goddamn business.”
I rubbed my brow. “Seriously?” People were always curious. Always wanting a piece of me.
“Yeah, seriously. I take people at face value ’cause that’s what I like them to do with me. I ain’t interested in gossip rags and the press. They just tell a load of shit about people.”
“You had that happen to you?”
“Once or twice.”
I closed my eyes and blew out a breath. An image of Steven reaching for me sprang into my mind. The doors pinged open. I stepped out, pulling my key card from my pocket. Frustration was mounting. Anger was churning inside me. The last thing I wanted was to have that idiot invading my thoughts and sneaking into my dreams. Not that sleep was likely now.
The curtains in the room had been drawn and two chocolates placed on the pillows. The bedside lamps basted the room in a sunset glow.
I toed off my shoes and sank my feet into the deep-pile carpet.
“You going to be okay?” Dylan asked from the doorway.
I didn’t answer. On the small occasional table was a magazine. It was the wrong way up, front cover facing downward. And on the back cover was an advert for Annapurna Extreme Clothing.
