Page 24 of Slap Shot Scandal
The nose of the plane lifts up, gravity forcing us to lean back in our seats. But still Weston keeps a firm grip on me.
“That’s a good sign, right? That we’re rising up?”
“Yeah, Harbor, that’s a good sign. Better than down.”
My body relaxes into his, nestled under his strong arm.
We fit just right.
“What do you think about sharks?” I ask.
“I don’t love them. Especially if we crash into the ocean.”
“You think we’re going to crash into the ocean?” My voice tips up, chest squeezing.
“No. I’m teasing you.”
“Oh, good.” I swallow down the panic. “For the mascot—hammerhead sharks. Because we’re the Coastal Crushers. Get it? Crush, hammer.”
His body stiffens. “Not sharks.”
“Why not?”
“The team can’t be a Florida cliché.”
The plane dips precipitously again and my fingers fly to his shirt, clutching at the solid wall of chest. His heart hammers beneath my palm.
“They’re apex predators.” I try to keep my voice steady, despite my frayed nerves and the turbulence. “Powerful, fast, respected.”
“Fine. Hammerheads. But don’t make the shark all cutesy. We’re elite athletes, not cartoon characters.”
“Deal.”
I practically sigh with relief as the plane levels out, the sky brightening and the lights blinking back on.
“That should be all the rough skies we hit today, folks. But keep those safety belts on, just in case.” The pilot’s voice crackles over the speaker.
I exhale a long breath. “Crisis averted.”
“Looks like.”
We sit in silence for a long minute, Weston’s arm still wound around me. My nervous system should be calmingdown now that we’re not careening into the Atlantic, but that’s not what’s happening.
Instead, I’m acutely aware of my racing heart, the heat of my skin where Weston’s making contact.
“Thanks. For talking me through that.”
He unwinds his arm from my shoulders and a tiny flicker of disappointment ripples through me.
“No problem. Should have asked if you were a nervous flyer before I took this seat, I guess.” He nudges my elbow, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Shut up. That wasn’t just nervous flying. We almost died!”
“So dramatic. We hit a rough patch. I thought PR people were calm under pressure.”
“There’s a difference between business challenges and facing down death, Weston.”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating his broad chest, and my pulse accelerates.
