27

B y the time the plane lands, there is palpable tension in the air. All of the six men who I know have been so on edge the entire flight that it made it hard to concentrate. Not knowing what is causing this kind of tension is even more frustrating; I want to know what they aren’t telling me.

While the rest of the men are visibly amped up for the game, the starting six look like they'd rather go to war. With the majority of the team whooping and hollering, the seven of us descend the steps of the plane in terse silence. I want to push them to tell me what's going on, but again, I know it's not the time or place.

Luckily, we've arrived the day before the game and have a couple hours before the team wants to get some ice time in later this evening.

The ride to the hotel is, again, silent to the point that I'm becoming uncomfortable. I spend that time sitting in the front seat while Roman drives, trying to keep my anxiety from rising.

What if it has to do with me?

Did I do something wrong?

Why won't they tell me what's going on?

I can feel the swirl of panic slowly taking up all the space inside my body. Just as I feel the threatening burn of tears, I'm only vaguely aware of Roman leaving the vehicle.

Weren't we driving down the road?

I try to focus on my surroundings, but all I can hear is the angry pounding of my blood. My surroundings are now a blur from the water collecting in my eyes.

All of a sudden, I'm being pulled from the car, lightning zapping up my arm, and then I'm wrapped in a solid embrace.

Roman, my soul seems to whisper.

“I'm so fucking sorry, Leera,” he says into my hair.

“W-wait, why are you s-sorry?” I whisper, trying to sound strong, but it comes out all nasally.

“Leera, baby, you're having a panic attack. What do you mean, why am I sorry? This is my fault. Fuck! Are you okay?”

I continue to just stare at him, my brain refusing to connect the dots; instead, all any part of my body can focus on is him.

“I didn't mean to not talk to you about this; I was waiting until we got somewhere that it felt safe for us to discuss what came up,” he continues.

All I can do is nod my head while the haze of the anxiety is slowly chased away by the cherry and leather protection of my mate.

He continues kissing the top of my head as he rubs circles on my back.

When I've finally calmed down, I realize we're literally sitting on the side of the road, the SUV idling next to us with the other five of our group.

“I-I'm sorry. I didn't even notice it setting in until it was too late. I knew something bothered you guys on the plane. I was trying to patiently wait for information, but my mind started spinning.”

“Shhh, you never have to apologize to me for this. I've got you.” He takes a deep breath. “I'm the one that's sorry. Things like this will be easier once we're mated and you can be in on our conversations,” he finishes with an ornery smirk on his handsome face.

“Come on, let's go; anyone could see us sitting out here. I'm okay.” I smile and pull on his hand, like I'm actually capable of helping him get up off the ground. “Let's go to the hotel and get settled, and then you can tell me everything at once.”

Roman just smiles and nods and helps me back into the car.

When we finally arrive at the hotel, it's freaking gorgeous. In my travels with my parents, we stayed in a lot of different locations, but they weren't the lavish ones. They were comfortable and homey feeling. This screams money that I cannot even fathom. For a moment, I'm plagued by thoughts of whether or not I'm good enough.

That moment is abruptly cut off by Benny.

“Do you like it, Leera? Roman wanted somewhere nice for you to stay on your first away game experience. We usually stay somewhere more basic, but someone”—he shoots Roman one of his sunshine smiles—"requested an upgrade from our usual quarters.”

My jaw drops, and I immediately whirl around to face Roman. “You did this for me? Roman, you know that doesn't matter to me!”

He takes my hands in his, brings them to his mouth, and kisses them, then says, “The fact that you don't is part of why I love you. I wanted to do something special for you. I knew it would be a nice surprise.”

I fly forward and kiss him in front of everyone, right in the middle of this gorgeous hotel lobby under a twinkling chandelier.

After kissing him senseless for this obnoxiously sweet surprise, but hearing him say those words, I remember that we're in a very public place when someone whoops from somewhere near us.

Embarrassment courses through my veins when I pull away to find a small crowd has gathered and is just sitting there watching us.

Oh, no, did they take pictures?

Will that upset Roman?

Andrei comes forward as Roman pulls me back into his body, smiling like a fool. “Alright, everyone, move along, beat it!” Andrei hollers as he approaches us with the hotel keys to our room.

I mouth a silent thank you to him before letting Roman whisk me away to the elevators. Only, we're not alone. All five of his men pile into the elevator with us, causing me to smother a giggle at all these men crammed into such a small space.

I notice the elevator just keeps climbing when we finally reach the top and it stops. Roman scans our room key on a pad within the elevator that I didn't notice was there.

That seems backward; aren't the card pads usually just outside the door to the rooms?

The elevator dings and the doors part, revealing a massive sparkling room with a giant circular cream-colored couch right in the middle. The whole space is circular and then branches off like one of those highway roundabouts.

“Is this like an upstairs lobby or something?” I ask with a huffed laugh as I tentatively step inside.

Roman's hand on my lower back increases pressure, pushing me farther into the space. “No, Sweetheart, this is the presidential suite of the hotel. Each of those”—he moves his arms, pointing to the branching doorways I noticed—"leads to each bedroom. You can pick ours, and the guys can squabble over what's left.”

“Will I ever get used to this?” I mean to say to myself as I stare at the space in total awe that this is my life now.

“Whether or not you do, it will still be real. I still have to convince myself every day that you're really here,” he says as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ears.

What the hell am I supposed to say to that?

He's always had a way with words, but it seems as of late, those words knock on my heart and race straight for my lower abdomen. I still melt into a gooey puddle of the sweet things he says and all, but now it also leaves puddles in my panties, and I can't seem to get enough of him. Is that what the L word is like, or is it just the mate bond? I'll have to ask Zoey.

I turn to him and smile before pulling away and venturing through the doorways to pick a room.

The men are all lounging on what used to look like a giant couch, but with all of them on it, it’s kind of lost its grandeur. I've got one more room to look at before making my choice when there's a ding noise coming from the elevator doors.

I shit you not, all six of them turn their heads and growl. I think one of them barked, and I can't help the snort that escapes me at the scene, which I immediately try to hide with a cough. They really are just a bunch of overgrown lap dogs.

Slate makes his way to the doors and checks a small digital screen to the right. “Looks like it's for you, Roman,” he begins. When he notices my change in body language, he quickly adds, “It's not her,” and I wish it didn't instantly remove the weight on my shoulders.

When Roman opens the door, it’s not someone I’d expect that comes through.