Page 15 of Player Misconduct
“I’ll take her,” I say to Theo before I think about it.
Theo gives me that grin that knows too much. “You sure, Romeo?”
His desk agent slaps his newly printed ticket in front of him. “Sir, they are boarding. You have to go now if you’re going to make it through security in time.”
“Do you have a better plan?” I ask him as he stares at the ticket now in his hand.
He doesn’t. He just takes two steps towards me and claps my shoulder with his hand. “Then she’s all yours. Try not to let her hyperventilate during takeoff. Let her have the window seat, it helps if she can see out the window.”
“I know what I’m doing,” I tell him. And I hope to God I’m right.
“Yeah,” he says, walking off, “that’s what I’m afraid of,” he says over his shoulder.
When the tickets hit the counter, I sign the receipt, stuff them into my pocket, and glance over my shoulder. Kendall’s just coming in, still juggling two med bags and her own carry-on. She looks like she’s ready to collapse and keep going anyway.
I jog toward her, weaving between other passengers, duffel banging my hip. “Doc!”
She looks up, startled. “Aleksi. What are you—”
“Here.” I hold out one of the boarding passes. “We have a flight.”
Her forehead creases. “We?”
“I got two seats. Vegas connection, first class. It starts boarding in ten minutes. We have to go now.”
She blinks. “You bought me a ticket?”
“You said that you weren’t leaving my side tonight.” I grin, even though my head still throbs. “I’m making sure you keep your word.”
Her mouth opens, closes. “Aleksi, that’s… that’s insane. You didn’t have to—”
“Come on,” I cut in, catching one of her bags and tossing it over my shoulder before she can protest further. “We’re going to miss it.” I say, spinning around and start jogging towards TSA.
“Wait. What about Theo—” she says running after me.
I can hear her still struggling with her bags and keeping up. I yank another bag off of her and slide my hand into hers to pull her along with me.
“He’s rerouted. I’ve got you.”
Hearing myself say that last sentence to her outloud feels right. Feels like I’ve been holding it in for too long.
“Aleksi, you can’t carry all of that weight. Give me something back,” she demands, but she doesn’t pull her hand out of mine.
“Not a chance. I can handle it. We just need to get to our flight.”
She glances down at the ticket in her hand. “Vegas? You’re routing us through Vegas?”
“It was that or tomorrow morning,” I say over my shoulder. “You hate flying. I figured you’d rather get it over with, and I need to get back for morning skate.”
The terminal is loud, a mess of delayed flights and boarding calls. Every few seconds, a voice on the PA threatens to close the gate. I thread through the crowd and feel her nerves kick in causing her to grip onto me like a lifeline, her fingers weaving in between mine, our fingers locking.
It’s for balance, maybe. Stability, or safety. But her palm fits against mine like it’s been there before, our fingers weaving together.
We reach TSA, both out of breath. The agent behind the podium has the personality of a tax audit. “Tickets and IDs,” he barks.
I hand over both. The man barely glances before snapping, “You’re with her?”
“Obviously,” I say, then soften it with a grin. “She’s the doctor. I’m the patient.”
