Page 159 of It Happened on a Sunday
“Yeah, well, I didn’t die. And there’s no way in hell I’m letting you stay,” I toss back. “You’ll get slaughtered in the press for this.”
“Do you think I give a shit what the press says about me missingonegame?” he demands. “No, but I do give a shit about being here if something else happens to you—”
“One important game! And nothing’s going to happen to me. You heard Lena. I’m fine.”
“Actually, what she said is that youappearfine and that your doctor wants to run some tests to confirm it. That’s not the samething.”
It’s my turn to shrug. “It’s close enough.”
“I’m not going, Sloane. I couldn’t make it if I wanted to, and I don’t.”
“Oh, you’re fucking going,” I snarl. “Even if I have to break out of this place and drag your ass to the airport myself. Don’t make me call Marco.”
“It’s too late,” he tells me. “The team is already in San Diego. I’d have to find a nonstop flight that leaves in the next hour to even have a chance of making it to the game, and that’s not going to happen. I wouldn’t even make it to the airport in time, let alone through airport security.”
“Who said anything about the TSA?” I shoot right back. “What’s the point of having a pop star girlfriend if you can’t catch a ride on her private plane every once in a while?”
“I—” He breaks off and just kind of stares at me, like I’ve totally flummoxed him. Which is completely adorable, though I’m not about to tell him that.
“If my whole team is here—plus Roberta, who Jace would never ship—my guess is they flew the plane in from Chicago. Which means it’s probably sitting in a hangar at the Austin airport right now.” I hold out a hand. “Give me your phone. I want to text Marco and Jace and see how long it’ll take to get it gassed up and ready to go.”
“I’m not giving you my phone.”
“Fine.” I start for the door, trailing my IV behind me. “Jaime’s still out there, right? I’ll get him to text—”
“This is ridiculous,” Sly protests, even as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to me. “My gear isn’t even here.”
I give him anoh pleaselook. “So go get it. I can assure you the plane’s not leaving without you.”
“Listen to me, Sloane.”
“I’m listening,” I tell him as I text Marco.
“No, you’re not.” He puts his hand over mine, making sure to block the phone screen as he does. “The game doesn’t matter to me.Youmatter to me.”
“And you matter to me, Sly. And that means you playing that game matters to me. So stop arguing and get going. I promise by the time you’re back, I’ll be hale and hearty and waiting for you in bed.”
His phone dings, and I glance down at the text from my head of security. “Marco says the plane and pilot can be ready by eleven. Now give me a kiss and get your ass to the airport so I can watch you kick the Lightning up and down that damn field. Remember I missed the season opener, so I didn’t get it the first time around.”
Sly looks like he wants to argue, but in the end, he blows out a long breath. “Okay, fine.”
I narrow my eyes suspiciously. “Okay you’re going? Or…”
“Okay, I’m going,” he agrees. Then pulls me in for a long, lingering kiss.
I lift a brow. “Oh really?”
“Yeah.” He gives me the most lovesick and resigned sort of look. “No sense arguing with the queen.”
“Nice to know we finally agree.”
Chapter 70
Sloane
Six hours later, I watch Sly land at the San Diego airport—and by watch, I mean follow the dot that is my plane on the app that lets me track it.
It’s been a harrowing afternoon. He should have landed an hour and a half ago, but there was a storm here in Austin that grounded planes for more than half an hour. Then, according to Marco’s midafternoon weather report, the plane hit a massive headwind over El Paso and had to battle all the way to the Pacific.
