Chapter Ten

Dylan and I didn't fuck again. Instead we fell asleep. Not intentionally, just out of sheer exhaustion. I guess we'd both had intense days.

When I woke in the embrace of his arms, it took me a minute to remember where I was and who I was with. But then I breathed deep, and memories of him making me forget everything for a few sweeter-than-sweet moments came rushing back. Damn, the guy was good.

And right now my hand was pressed over his hair-strewn sternum and my legs tangled with his. Perhaps I should wake him and go for round two.

I slid my hand lower, beneath the blankets, my alertness picking up from sleepy to anticipatory. I dipped into his navel and then found his cock. He was hard, fully erect.

When I wrapped my hand around his shaft, he stirred.

I looked up at his face.

"Morning, beautiful," he said with a lazy drawl.

"Morning yourself," I said, kissing his right nipple. "Seems you're ready to go again."

"I always wake up with a hard-on." He ran his hand over my hair. "Sadly, it doesn't usually get put to good use."

"So this is your lucky day."

"Tell me about it." He cupped the back of my head. "Should I know who you are? I'm not real up on music and movies and shit."

I shook my head and laughed. "You up on the major fashion houses? Dior, Armani, Prada? Ever been to London Fashion Week, Paris, Milan, or The Met Gala?"

"Can't say I have." He gave an apologetic downturn of his mouth. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I wouldn't have known who The Vipers were until yesterday, so don't sweat it." I stroked down his cock again, a long firm caress within my fist. "We're even."

"Fuck, that feels good." He closed his eyes and pulled in a deep breath that expanded his chest.

"Mmm, it does." I kissed the angle of his jaw and pressed closer. "Very good, and I have just the plan for it."

There was a sudden click, and the door burst open.

"What the…?" I dragged the duvet up over my breasts. "Who…?"

Ben, Theo, and Eduardo strode into the hotel room. One by one, they came to a halt at the end of the bed. Big. Wide. Filling the space utterly.

"What the fuck?" Ben said, his eyes wide.

"Jesus Christ." Theo ran his hand over his hair, causing it to stick up wildly. "What the hell is going on?"

"I knew you couldn't be trusted." Eduardo wagged his finger at Dylan. "I knew it! Merde ."

"Get outta here." Dylan sat bolt upright and pointed at the door. "Now. All of you. Fuck off."

"No." Ben put his hands on his hips. "I slept in the same room as Mr. Snore-All-Night so Pippa could have some alone time, some privacy, and you…you…fuck her, and in the name of…you're clearly hard for her now." He nodded at the duvet tented around Dylan's groin.

Dylan scowled, his eyebrows drew right together, and he slammed a pillow over his lap.

"It's not his fault," I said. "It takes two to tango."

Dylan gave a huff of amusement. "Sure does, Pip." He kissed the round of my shoulder.

No one called me Pip. I just didn't tolerate it, but hearing it from Dylan, in his deep voice and with his breath warming my skin, it was the sweetest endearment.

"I cannot believe this." Eduardo flung his arms high and then let them slap to his sides. "You swore off one-night stands after that rink bunny squealed to the press, and now this…you are your own worst enemy, Dylan."

"What happened with the rink bunny?" I asked with a frown.

Dylan shrugged. "The last one I hooked up with got paid by a reporter to spill the details of our night together and, well, it wasn't exactly vanilla."

"Ah, I see." So Dylan knew what it was like to get bad press. And perhaps that was why he'd said it had been a while since he'd fucked.

And not exactly vanilla? Now I was really intrigued.

"And what do you guys know," Dylan was saying. "Maybe this ain't a one-night stand."

"Are you fucking mad?" Theo tapped the side of his own head. "She was marrying some other dude two days ago. This is rebound."

"Hey." I didn't like having my actions judged, but he did have a point. I had practically bounced into bed with Dylan.

" Oui, it is, and we met Steven, what a batard ." Eduardo balled his fist and smacked it into his palm. "I would have liked to slam him into the Plexi a few times. Shown him who is boss."

"I think you did show him," I said, reaching for a glass of water on the bedside table.

"Not as much as I would have liked." Eduardo glared at his balled fist.

Ben checked his Apple watch. "You both need to get up and dressed, flight in three hours."

"What?" Dylan turned to the bedside clock. "Shit, I really slept in."

"That's why we are here." Eduardo rolled his eyes. "To get you up out of your lazy bed. You did not answer your phone."

My heart sagged. I had been expecting it, but it had happened just the same. These guys were about to get on a plane and cross the Atlantic Ocean. I'd never see them again. And that was a damn shame when they were all crazy hot, and truth be told, I'd have had a great time with any of them last night.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. What was the matter with me?

"You, too," Theo said. "Pippa, you need to get dressed and packed, too."

"Of course, yes, I'll get out of the room."

"No, not because of the room," Theo said, "You're coming with us."

"What?" My jaw dropped; I could feel the air rush into my mouth. Had I heard him right?

"You're coming with us." Theo gestured at the door. "Brick's concussion has grounded him for seventy-two hours, which means there's a spare seat in Business, a spare seat for you."

"But…but…I can't…"

"Of course you can." Ben smiled at me in that reassuring way of his. "We've cleared it with Gina, she's cool about it, she just needs your details to change the name on the booking." He shrugged. "You wanted a ticket far away, and here it is. Fate or destiny or whatever it is you believe in has delivered."

"You guys…" I looked between Theo, Ben, and Eduardo. "You've already done so much and—"

"Some more than others." Eduardo rolled his eyes at Dylan.

Dylan ignored him.

"You need to get as far away from Steven as you can," Theo said, almost spitting the name Steven. "We won't rest if we leave you in the same country as him."

"That's all very sweet and thoughtful of you, but—"

"It's not sweet or thoughtful, it's practical." Theo shrugged. "You're coming to Florida, it's the perfect solution for you and for us."

"For you?"

"We'll be so fucking worried about you, sick with worry," Ben said. "We saw him last night, how he was. It was a good thing we turned up when we did. That was about to get very nasty and very non-consensual."

I couldn't disagree with that. It had been horrible.

"But where will I…when I get there?" I rubbed my temple. "Yes, I know. I'll get a hotel, Miami, lie low, catch a few rays. Perhaps down in the Keys would be better, it's nice there, quiet." I blew out a breath. This could work.

"A hotel!" Eduardo laughed. " Ma choue, we have enough space for you to have a bedroom in each of our houses, you do not need a hotel."

I stared at him. Was he really suggesting I bunk up with one of them?

"Don't be so shocked." Dylan shrugged. "It's a practical solution, and we won't cramp your style. We practice six hours most days and we'll be on the road soon, preseason games."

He said it as if it was nothing, me staying with him, one of them, as if I could. Easily.

"You don't have to make a decision now." Ben pulled my case from the corner of the room. "But you do need to get up, dressed, and ready to go to the airport."

"Airport. Yes." Travel nerves always struck me. Mainly it was miss-the-plane anxiety. "Three hours, right?"

"Yep." Theo folded his arms and nodded.

"Okay, I can do that." I threw back the duvet and stood. My head spun with all the things I needed to do. Shower, put on some long-acting moisturizer, find my shades, charge my phone, locate my neck pillow and book. Had I packed the melatonin? I was sure it was in my travel bag. "Give me fifteen minutes, okay?"

I strutted to the en suite, mind whirring, and shut the door.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

Fuck!

I clasped my hand over my small triangle of pubic hair. Shot my other arm over my breasts. What the hell? What was the matter with my brain? I'd totally lost the plot.

I'd just walked, stark naked, across a room full of hockey players as though it was the most normal thing to do. No wonder I hadn't had a response from them about giving me fifteen minutes. They all likely thought I was completely crazy, or totally in love with myself, or way too confident, or just a dumb blonde.

"Fuckity, fuck." I cranked on the shower and grabbed my shampoo. It wasn't that I was embarrassed, I was used to being naked—or mostly naked—in a room full of people. Behind the scenes of a runway was a maelstrom of bodies and clothes and dressers and makeup artists. The tension was high, urgency ruled, and no one took any notice of boobs and bums and anything else that got flashed.

And right now my lack of self-consciousness had bitten me on my bare ass. Now, not only had Dylan seen me naked, so had Theo, Ben, and lothario Eduardo.

I stepped into the stream of water and held my face to the coolness. Maybe the trauma at the church had addled my mind. Steven and Cheryl had done such a wicked thing to me I wasn't thinking straight.

I lathered my hair, rinsed and added conditioner, then reached for the shower gel while the conditioner did its magic.

Go to Florida?

Was that also crazy?

It didn't feel it. It felt like a solution to the fairly urgent problem of getting out of the country. And the guys did seem quite insistent, Theo especially.

I washed and rinsed and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a fluffy white towel to dry off. I had my flight routine down to perfection. I nourished my skin, combed my hair, and went minimal on makeup.

Taking a deep breath, and wearing a robe, I opened the door to the room.

It was empty.

"Thank fuck for that." I scooted to my case and set about finding sweats and a t-shirt.

"Welcome aboard Virgin Atlantic today." The air steward smiled at me.

"Thank you." I showed her my boarding card.

"You'll find your seat a few rows down on the left," she said.

I followed Eduardo down the aisle. When I found my seat, or rather personal space, it had a privacy screen, a TV, a lay-flat bed, and a variety of other features to make the nine-hour journey more comfortable.

"You want me to put your bag up here?" Eduardo asked.

"No thanks, I'll keep it with me." I took a seat and set it on the fold-out table.

"Hey, neighbor." Theo stuck his head over the screen next to me.

"Hi." I grinned at him and pressed a button to put the screen down. I had a sense of excitement I hadn't been expecting. It was partly the idea of putting distance between myself and Steven and also traveling with the guys.

"Champagne, madam?"

"Oh, yes please." I took a glass. Why not?

"Cheers." Dylan was sitting on the other side of the aisle to me. He held up his glass. "To new beginnings."

"New beginnings." I took a sip and watched Ben settle in front of me, and Eduardo in front of Dylan.

The cabin was a buzz of activity. It seemed The Vipers had taken over the entire space. Rick was having a loud conversation with Dustin about a Polish player he'd spotted. Fiona was sitting on Raven's knee with her glass of champagne and looked very happy indeed. I guessed they'd had a great night celebrating being back together.

"I always feel nostalgic when I cross the Atlantic," Vadmir said with a shake of his head.

"Why?" Theo asked.

"Because it is where I meet my Sammy." He nodded toward the front of the plane. "For the second time."

"Second time?" Theo said.

I strained to hear the conversation.

" Da , the first time was outside the rink, did not expect to see her again after a night of fun, but then, suddenly there she was, offering me a drink and a blanket for my knees." He laughed. "And the rest is history."

"You're a lucky guy," Theo said. "To have found the woman of your dreams."

"She is my dreams, and my fantasies." He winked at Theo then dropped into his seat.

"Pippa Bentley?"

A curious face with wide eyes suddenly appeared before me—an air steward with bright-red lipstick and long fluttery lashes. "Is it really you?"

"I…er…yes." What else could I say?

"I'm such a fan," she said, squatting so she was at my level. "You're so beautiful, and your Dior advert was stunning. I actually bought a bottle of Femme Fatale , you know, because you just made me want it." She grinned but didn't blink she was staring at me so hard.

"Thank you." I smiled. "I appreciate your kind words."

"Tell me, did you really fly that hot air balloon? And was there really a zebra, tiger, and giraffe in it?"

"Er no, most of it was digitally created. I think the tiger would have eaten us all." I paused. "But I would love to have come face to face with a giraffe, they're my favorite animal."

"Mine, too!" She reached for the in-flight magazine. "You're in this. Your advert." She flicked forward a few pages. "Would you sign it for me, please?"

I glanced around. A sea of curious faces were turned my way, none more so than Theo, Ben, Eduardo, and Dylan.

"Have you got a pen?" I asked, feeling my cheeks heat. Which was unusual for me, I wasn't the bashful sort, but these hockey players had so far only known me as a runaway bride, not a highly sought-after supermodel. They were getting a baptism of fire here.

"Here you go, Pippa." Theo waved a pen at me. His attention was very much on the Dior advert I was now holding.

It showed a hot air balloon basket with me sat cross-legged on the edge and pouting. I wore only fig leaves for modesty, a bay leaf crown atop my wildly teased hair, and around me were the animals I was supposedly saving in this modern day image of Noah's Arc. The image was colorful and powerful, the African Savannah sprawled out in the background. It was proving to be a successful campaign and worth, for Dior, the high fee Trevor had negotiated for me.

I cleared my throat. "Who shall I sign it for?" I asked.

"Penelope, please."

I wrote her name and signed it. "Here."

"Thank you so much." She held it to her chest. "I'll get you a new magazine."

I nodded and flicked the pen point in and out in rapid succession.

"And can I have a selfie?" Her eyes widened hopefully.

"Sure, but on one condition."

"Anything."

"If you post it anywhere, you don't say where we're going. I appreciate privacy."

Quickly, she crossed her chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die. It will just be for me." She grabbed her phone and shoved her face close to mine.

I smiled for the camera.

"Thank you, thank you." She beamed. "And if you need anything at all. Just ask, just use the call bell. Anything at all. We have some Elizabeth Arden gift bags if you need any moisturizer or lip balms, just say the word, complimentary."

"That's very kind." I sipped my drink again.

After a final stare, she turned and walked back to the galley clutching her phone and the magazine.

"I guess that solves the puzzle," Dylan said, flicking open his magazine and studying the advert.

"What puzzle?"

"Come on?" Theo took the pen, probably to stop me being annoying with it. "You're famous, like us."

"No, not like you. You're famous for a skill, for being talented on the ice. I'm famous because I look like this and had some lucky breaks."

"Don't put yourself down, that's not like you," Eduardo said. "You are obviously very skilled at what you do, otherwise you would not be on this." He held up the magazine. "Being top of your game in any career takes talent."

I smiled, appreciating his words.

"I knew I recognized you," Fiona called over several seats. "It had been bugging me, but yes, Pippa Bentley, of course." She raised her drink to me. "Very honored to make your acquaintance."

I managed a smile and caught Gina standing and staring my way. She, too, had struggled to place me, knowing she'd seen me before but unable to recall where.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Ben asked from over the seat in front of me.

"Would it have made a difference to me being here now?"

"No." He shrugged. "I don't reckon so."

"So why say anything? Fame isn't tangible, it comes and goes, and it's other people's perceptions of you, it's not real. I don't feel famous, I have a job and occasionally people recognize me for that."

"I get you," Eduardo said. "That is how it is for us, too."

I smiled at him. He'd said the right thing to me. Being defined by fame annoyed me almost as much as being judged by my appearance. It seemed he got me, and that was heartwarming.