10. Bristol

Chapter 10

Bristol

"Are you excited to travel with the team for the first time?" Dakota's face filled my phone screen perched on my nightstand as I packed my overnight bag. The Speed had played their first preseason game at home a few days ago and were now headed out on a quick trip to Pittsburgh to play their first away game of the preseason.

"I guess." I shrugged, sniffing a pair of jeans to ensure they were fresh enough for casual wear later tonight when I went out with Alyssa. "We're not going to be gone very long."

"Worried about the plane ride?" she asked.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my hands not to shake. "Yes," I admitted on a whisper.

"Do you think it would help if Braxton sat beside you?" she offered.

"No." I opened my eyes, busying myself by placing travel-sized cosmetics into my bag. "He's already gotten into enough trouble over me."

I was still beyond pissed that Maddox singled him out during practice. Apparently, they'd gotten into it because Maddox thought Braxton was flirting with me, which in turn transformed him into a jealous caveman. That's when Braxton figured out that the two of us had slept together and went all "protective older brother" and screamed at his coach. Of course, he'd been publicly punished, and I was beyond mortified.

So much for leaving the drama in the rear-view mirror when I left Hartford.

But I couldn't think about that right now, when the elephant in the room was that I was less than two hours away from stepping onto an airplane for the first time in years. The last time hadn't exactly been a positive experience.

Okay, that might be a mild downplay. I'd freaked out so bad they almost landed the plane because I was scaring the other passengers by screaming that we were all going to die—no big deal.

And of course my bestie, Dakota, had been riding shotgun and witnessed the whole debacle.

"I'll be fine," I assured her, unable to keep my voice from wavering.

"Bristol." She sighed on the other end of the line, and I glanced at the phone screen to find her chewing her lower lip, obviously worried.

"I took this job knowing it required air travel multiple times a week. I'll put on my big girl panties and deal with it. It's mind over matter, right?"

She gave me a pointed look. "It's your mind that's the problem."

I cringed. She had me there.

My fear of flying wasn't completely irrational. I grew up slightly north of Hartford, close to the airport. When I was eight, there was a crash. Not an incidence of a plane sliding off the runway during icy conditions but a real "no survivors, only bits and pieces of the plane recognizable" crash.

It was so close that we heard the boom when it hit the ground. It shook the house. For weeks on end, it was all over the news; it was all anyone in our community could talk about as they searched for answers as to why the plane had gone down so close to landing. About half the passengers were local to Hartford, and there were countless candlelight vigils. Every volunteer organization in the area was hard at work, cleaning up the debris and offering support to the victims' families.

Needless to say, it was traumatic for a child, and it stuck with me.

Dakota must've seen the far-off look in my eye, reliving the events of the past, so she quietly offered, "Just remember there are thousands of flights every day. The number of people who die in fatal car accidents per day is higher than that of those who will perish in a fatal plane crash per year ."

I groaned. "Can we not say the words ‘plane crash' when I'm about to get on one of those death traps? Please?"

"Let logic and statistics win out, Bristol. It's your only hope of making it through this trip to Pittsburgh, not to mention the rest of the season."

"You're right." I nodded. Grabbing her newest release, I held it up. "Maybe I'll catch up on my reading."

She smiled brightly. "That's my girl. Distract yourself. You've got this."

I'm glad one of us thinks so.

"All right. I gotta go, or I'm gonna be late."

"Love you, babe. See you when you get back." She blew me a kiss and ended the call.

Finally, without an audience, I took a deep breath, shaking my limbs as I blew it out. The old Bristol freaked out on planes, but I'd left her behind in Hartford. The new Bristol could handle this. She was strong and in control.

Here goes nothing.

Alyssa waved me over as soon as I passed through the makeshift security setup inside the hangar of the private airstrip the Speed used for their travel.

"I just love road trips," she gushed. "Have you ever been to Pittsburgh before?"

I shook my head, twisting my hands as a nervous outlet. "No, but I've heard it's really pretty. Three rivers converging downtown and lots of bridges, right?"

"Just you wait. The airport is on the right side of the city that you have to pass through a tunnel, and the city magically appears on the other side. It's crazy and amazing. Like the city has its own little door."

"That is cool," I mused, my eyes shifting to the giant jet that would take us to the place she described.

"Since you've never been, we'll have to take a trip up the incline to Mount Washington tonight. They have these overlooks where you can see the whole city from above." Alyssa seemed very excited about our destination.

"Sure, sounds great." I was checked out, trying to keep my panic tamped down.

"Oh!" she squealed, and I jumped with how tightly I was wound. "I forgot the best part!"

I was almost afraid to ask. "What's the best part?"

She held her hands up dramatically. "They put fries on their salads and sandwiches."

My nose wrinkled. "Fries?"

Alyssa's head bobbed enthusiastically, and she let out a loud moan that drew attention from a few of the players near us in the hangar. "Oh, yeah. Sooooooo good. "

I wasn't so sure, but I would have to take her word for it. Canadians loved poutine, so I suppose fries covered in dressing wasn't the craziest thing in the world.

She linked her arm with mine. "Seat buddies?"

We were the only two women in the press pack, so I didn't think twice. "Sure."

"I can't tell you how great it is to have another woman coming on the road," Alyssa admitted before lowering her voice. "Most nights, they're like a pack of hungry wolves, and it gets harder and harder every year to fend them off." She nodded toward our male colleagues.

Concern for my new friend trumped my internal freakout over getting on a plane. "They've never tried anything with you, have they?"

She waved me off as we trekked across the tarmac toward the waiting jet. "Nah. A few of them have hit on me, but when I turned them down, that was the end of it. Can you imagine how messy it would get if I caved? Talk about a hostile work environment."

"Yeah," I muttered. Wouldn't know a thing about that . . .

"Anyway"—she continued to chatter—"I'm just glad to have someone to hang out with. And it'll be exciting to share all my favorite haunts in the cities we visit."

That was one aspect of the job I was looking forward to. My hatred of air travel had been prohibitive. I hadn't traveled much to this point. Sure, I grew up a stone's throw from New York City and had taken the train there many times. Then there was that one spring break trip to Florida with Dakota where we'd had to drive home after I freaked out on the plane trip down. But I wanted to expand my horizons, discover new places. This was my chance to do so without breaking the bank. The Speed provided the plane while my publication paid for my hotel and food expenses. It was the perfect situation .

When we reached the giant rolling staircase leading to the open door of the large plane, Alyssa let go of my arm. She stepped ahead of me, saying something about finding a good seat for us away from the guy who snores. My hand gripped the railing, but my feet refused to move, and my knees trembled so badly that the shockwaves were enough to make my teeth chatter.

"Problem, Miss Cooper?" A voice I knew all too well taunted from behind me.

Of course. Because today isn't hard enough.

Thankfully, my irritation with Maddox Sterling was enough to overrule my terror, and I gritted out, "No problem," as I took the first step up the staircase.

Crossing the threshold into the jet, I clenched my fists until my fingernails dug into my palms. The pain provided a reminder that I was alive. I could do this.

Alyssa waved from her perch near the back, and I pushed past the filled seats until I reached her.

"Window or aisle?" She gestured to the empty row she'd secured for us. The plane had extra-wide seats, featuring only two on each side of the aisle.

That was a loaded question, and I wasn't sure which was worse.

A window seat meant I could look out at the world below as we climbed high into the sky, but if the wing broke or an engine caught fire, I'd have a front-row seat to my nightmare coming to life. An aisle seat would mean blissful ignorance, but not knowing if the end was near would only serve to ratchet up my anxiety.

It was an impossible decision, but one I was required to make. I couldn't very well stand in the aisle all day. I definitely needed a seatbelt to secure me to this death trap .

"Window, please." It was the lesser of two evils. If necessary, I could always slide down the window shade.

Alyssa winked. "Perfect. I was hoping that would be your answer. The aisle is better for me. I hate asking someone to get up so I can use the restroom."

All of the overhead compartments were open, so I threw my overnight bag above our row and slid into the window seat. Holding my travel tote in my lap, I pulled out my earbuds and Dakota's newest book before sliding the bag beneath the seat in front of me.

Plopping down onto the seat beside me, Alyssa dug through her leather backpack for her own comfort items. Once she was settled, she looked over at me, and her eyes lit up when they landed on my book.

She held up an identical copy in her hands. "What are the odds?" she joked, knowing how close I was to Dakota.

Nervous laughter left my lips as the rest of the seats filled, and there was a loud thud, indicating the door was closed. We were sealed inside.

"How about that?" I gave her a weak smile.

Alyssa turned in her seat as I tried to tighten my seatbelt even more. It was digging into my hips, but I didn't care. "So, tell me. Do you get to read any of her work early?"

"Not when she's writing. She says it's too distracting when I ask questions about what scenes are coming up next. Her process is that she doesn't have one. She flies by the seat of her pants. Her characters are fully in charge and tell her where the story is going. Those are some of the best scenes where they take over."

Completely entranced by my description of Dakota's writing, her eyes widened. "Really," she breathed out.

"I mean, it makes sense. It's their story; shouldn't they have a say in how it goes? "

"Huh. Never thought about it that way," Alyssa mused.

"So, even though she doesn't let me read it early, she always makes sure I have a copy on release day." I flip open the front cover and show it to my new friend. "And it's always signed."

Alyssa leaned over to read the inscription. "That's awesome. Do you think—do you think she would sign mine?"

"Of course. She loves connecting with readers." I threw her a wink. "And I'll make sure to put in a good word for you."

"That would be incredible." She gripped her copy tighter. "I've seen her around the rink after games, but I've always been too afraid to ask. I didn't want to overstep the line of the players' private lives."

I waved my free hand. "She's the best, seriously. Maybe we can all get together sometime after a game. Have you ever been to Pipes?"

Her jaw dropped. " You've been to Pipes?"

Why did she say that like it was strange that I had been? Was it because I was new?

"Uh, yeah."

Alyssa huffed out a sarcastic laugh. "Man, perks of being friends with a player's girlfriend."

My hackles raised. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's just that"—she peeked around the cabin—"the press is kind of not allowed in there. Especially after games. It's the players' place."

"Oh." My stomach bottomed out. The last thing I needed was to give off the appearance of getting special treatment.

She placed a hand on my arm when she saw me deflate. "I'm sure if they invited you, it's fine."

"I would never abuse my relationship with Dakota and Braxton for a scoop," I vowed. "That's not how I want to get ahead."

"Of course not." Alyssa nodded sympathetically .

Great. First, I sleep with the head coach. And then I find out the only reason that became possible was because my best friend and her boyfriend took me to the one place that was off-limits to the press. It was a perfect storm, and I'd been caught right in the middle of it.

No wonder Maddox thought I had ulterior motives for taking him home that night.

The engines roared to life, and my breathing hitched. My book lay abandoned on my lap as both hands gripped the armrests as the plane rolled forward.

"Nervous flier?" Alyssa asked, eyeing my white-knuckled death grip.

"Something like that," I muttered, willing my racing heart to settle.

She placed a warm hand over mine on our shared armrest. "Only downside to flying with the team is no booze. That usually helps take the edge off. But it's a quick up and down to Pittsburgh. We'll be there before you know it."

"Uh-huh." I could barely hear her over the buzzing in my ears.

A choked squeal left my lips as the plane lurched, speeding down the runway with the intention of taking off. Every muscle in my body locked as the front half of the plane tilted upward. I could tell we were half off the ground. That was, until there was a slight bob beneath my feet, and a quick peek out the window showed the buildings on the ground becoming smaller with each passing second. We were entirely in the air now.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

We passed through clouds, rising above them, and that's when I lost it. We were too high. All I could see in my mind's eye were those images of the wreckage that played on a loop on TV when I was a child—the shattered fragments of what had once been people and a jet larger than this one, along with the hole in the ground where the impact had happened .

My hands flew to my throat as I tried to draw in air, but my lungs never filled, burning with the need for oxygen. I clawed at the skin in my desperation. My mind battled between the need to stand up, to find a way to get off before it was too late, and the paralyzing fear that unbuckling my seatbelt would mean certain death.

There was no winning scenario. I was going to die on this plane.

That was the last thought I had before I lost my vision, the panic pulling me under.