Page 106 of The Wildest One
And now, on the plane to Vegas, I was so spun up on him; I was barely functioning. I’d taken a seat near the back with the rest of the staff, the players up front, giving me the perfect view of Beck. Every time he looked across the aisle to speak to a teammate, I got the sight of that delicious profile. And when he was turned straight ahead, I got the broadness of his shoulder and his wide neck, the way his shirt and suit jacket hugged it from the back.
I needed to stop staring.
I needed to concentrate on the screen of my laptop and get some work done.
I needed?—
The vibration of my phone startled me out of my thoughts, and I glanced at my cell, which just happened to be resting in my palm.
Dad
Remind me again about the pink jerseys and what you want to do with them.
Me
It’s Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I think we should donate our half of the 50/50 raffle toward breast cancer research. In addition, have the guys wear pink jerseys for a home game. They can sign them at the end of the game and auction them off to raise more money to donate.
Dad
Your team can handle the logistics?
Me
Of course. I wrote out a marketing plan in hopes that you’d say yes.
Dad
How quickly would you need to order the jerseys?
Me
Today. Tomorrow at the very latest.
Dad
Discuss this with Beck. Make sure he’s on board. If it’s a go, order them today.
Me
On it.
Once the plane landed, we would be checking into the hotel, and the guys would have a little time to rest before we had tohead to the arena for the game. I didn’t know if I would have time to chat with Beck beforehand.
I had to have the conversation with him now.
The anxiety started to trickle in as I slipped my phone into my bag. Taking a haggard breath, I unbuckled my seat belt and stood, making my way down the narrow aisle. When I reached his seat, I held the top of the cushion to steady myself even though there wasn’t even the slightest bump in the air.
Since he didn’t look at me—he was staring at his phone—I said, “Beck, can we talk for a second? I just need to run something by you.”
As soon as his eyes began to take me in, it became even harder for me to breathe.
He popped out his white earbuds. “What’s up?”
He hadn’t heard me.
“Do you have a second to talk?” I repeated.
His stare didn’t stay on my face. It gradually moved down my entire body—something he dared to do because I was blocking the aisle, so no one aside from me could see him.
