Page 16 of Player Misconduct
Kendall shoots me a warning glare but the corner of her mouth twitches. The agent hands back our tickets with a grunt. “Gate B17. They’re boarding now.”
We scramble through security—me tossing my bag into the tray, her trying to explain the array of medical scissors and wraps she’s carrying. TSA waves her through once they recognize the team logo. I shoulder both duffels before she can argue.
“Give me those,” she huffs, jogging behind me to keep up.
“Negative.”
“You can’t carry all of it with your head injury,” she demands.
“You can’t carry it with your tiny arms or short legs. Just keep up, Doc.”
She knows I’m bigger and stronger than her. There’s no argument she can make that will cause me to give up anything. She’s just going to have to deal with it.
She might be the doctor that gets to make up the rules when we’re in the stadium, but out here, I’m in charge of her safety and I take that very seriously.
We sprint through the concourse, dodging rolling suitcases and late-night travelers. Every few steps she mutters something about professional boundaries; every few steps I pretend I don’t hear. Her hand finds mine again when the crowd thickens near the gate. Not flirty this time—it’s instinct. Like she’s trying to anchor herself to me in motion, making sure we don’t get separated. She doesn’t have to worry about that. I’d never let it happen.
“Gate B17!” the agent calls as we round the corner. The final group is boarding. I quickly scan my ticket and Kendall scans hers next, while the agent waves us through.
Kendall slows down halfway down the jet bridge now that we’re in the clear, breathing hard and I match her speed. “You really didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to.” I shift the duffel, glancing at her over my shoulder as we get closer to the airplane’s open door. “And if you think I’m letting you panic alone in coach with strangers, you’re wrong.”
Her voice is softer now, almost lost under the hum of the vent. “No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”
I shrug, trying to play it off. “Then you’ve been around the wrong people.”
Her eyes lock onto mine, and then I turn my head back as I take the first step into the airplane to board, “Don’t make me regret this,” she says as we pass by the stewardess and into the first class cabin.
Inside the plane, the lights are low, the air stale with recycled sleep. First class means wide seats and plenty of legroom. It’s perfect for someone who feels claustrophobic and needs a little extra space.
I shove our bags overhead, slide into the aisle seat beside her, giving her the window like Theo suggested. She’s already buckled in and gripping the armrest. The engines whine, and she goes rigid.
“Hey,” I say quietly. “Remember the podcast lady?”
“She’s not here,” Kendall mutters, eyes closed.
“Then you’re stuck with me.”
She cracks one eye open. “God help me.”
I offer her my hand. “Better grip than the armrest. Squishy and softer too.”
For a long moment, she stares at it like it’s a test. Then she slides her fingers into mine. Her palm is warm, pulse fluttering fast. I keep my thumb against her wrist. Not enough to make it weird, just enough to say I’m here.
The plane lurches, the kind that sends everyone’s stomach to their throats. She squeezes.
I don’t let go.
“Want to hear a fun fact?” I offer, trying to get her mind off of the take off.
I see her shut her eyes and chuckles under her breath. “Yeah sure, Mak. Let’s hear it.”
“Finland has more saunas than cars.”
She glances over at me like I made that up. “Honest truth. Over 5 million saunas in the country,” I tell her. “Also, we invented Santa Clause… you’re welcome. And we are also known as the happiest country on earth. See, I’m full of fun facts.”
"You're full of something, that’s for sure. I’m just not yet sure what that is,” she says but I know she’s teasing. I like to think of it as our love language, though she doesn’t know it yet.
