Mile High (Windy City Series Book 1) -
Mile High: Chapter 37
“You wanna close your mouth, or are you planning on mopping up the galley floor after the flight?”
Indy’s words bring me out of my daze as I quickly shut my mouth, wiping the corners of my lips for good measure.
“If anyone should be drooling, it’s me. I’m the one working with my imagination here, wondering what’s below all these tight briefs. At least you’ve experienced it.”
My stare stays locked on the exit row as my shirtless boyfriend lays his suit flat in an overhead bin. “Trust me, Indy. I’m drooling because I’ve experienced it.”
As the boys change into their comfortable clothes for the flight to Fort Lauderdale, Indy and I remain hidden in the back of the plane.
“Is he the best sex of your life or what?”
“Oh, hands down. No comparison.”
“You lucky bitch.”
A content sigh leaves my lips as I watch Zanders’ beautifully built body pull his sweatpants on. The other guys are changing in the aisles as well, but my focus is lasered past them, staring at the alternate captain with gold jewelry and black inked tattoos.
He must sense my gaze on him because suddenly, Zanders’ head turns my way, his hazel eyes replaceing mine. Expression melting, he gets all soft and gentle, his smile tugging on his lips, and I can’t help but shyly grin right back at him.
That is until he seductively grazes a single finger down his lips, tugging on the bottom one as it trails south over his chest and stomach. He continues to look at me, acting all alluring, but in reality, he just looks like a giant dork.
Thankfully, Maddison smacks him in the head before Tara catches him looking at me while he’s not wearing any clothes.
“How are you doing since…you know?”
“Since I walked into my apartment and found my boyfriend of six years mid-thrust into some other chick?” Indy asks. “Yeah. Great. I’m great.”
Clearly, she’s not great, judging from the bags under her eyes or the pale color of her typically suntanned skin. Not to mention that her uniform is drowning her frame thanks to her lack of appetite.
It’s been a few weeks since the night she caught Alex cheating, but that’s nothing in comparison to the years she spent loving him. There’s no time clock on healing heartbreak, regardless of how things ended. Your heart doesn’t suddenly detach just because you want it to.
In the same way, there’s no time clock on how quickly your heart can grow attached to another. It happened to me far faster than I would’ve imagined. To be honest, it happened a lot quicker than I had hoped, but now there’s no turning back. I’m in too deep. I’m drowning in feelings I didn’t know I could experience, but at the same time, I have no desire to come up for air.
“What do you need from me?” I turn toward my coworker.
“I need a night out. I want to get drunk and not think about this bullshit for like two minutes. And I know it’s not the best coping mechanism”—she holds her hands up in defense—“but therapy takes a lot more time than it does for me to throw back a shot of tequila.”
Keeping my lips pressed together, I attempt to hold back my laughter, but thankfully Indy bursts into giggles before I do. She’s been upset and hurting more often than not lately, but every once in a while, I get a glimpse of my typically fun, happy friend.
“I think that’s a great idea. Let’s do it tonight. Ryan’s team is in Miami this weekend, so a few of them are either coming up or we can go down to them. Is that okay?”
“Are you shitting me? Is that okay? Do you think I have any complaints about partying with a room full of giant basketball players? I don’t know a single thing about that sport except they’re huge and known to be great with their hands.”
“Okay,” I laugh. “I meant I wasn’t sure if you were cool with hanging out with Ryan after that night—”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ll never be able to make eye contact with your brother again after I spent the entire night sobbing in his living room with snot bubbles coming out of my nose before crying into a tub of Ben and Jerry’s, but the rest of his team doesn’t have to know what a hot mess I was.”
Zee (Daddy) Zanders: Jesus, Vee. Can you come fuck me right now? You in that uniform? It’s giving me G-Wagon flashbacks.
All the blood in my body shoots straight to my cheeks but also to the spot between my legs, as my mind floods with thoughts of that wild night. Regardless, I don’t text back, needing to focus on my job.
Two minutes later, the blue light shines in the back galley as a ding echoes throughout the cabin. Looking up the aisle, the matching call light shines above Zanders’ head.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“Go take care of your boo,” Indy teases, but there’s less sarcasm hidden behind the phrase than the last time she said it.
“He doesn’t even need anything,” I whine, stepping into the aisle as I head to the exit row.
“Yes?” I ask Zanders as I turn the light off over his head.
His cheeky smile is on full display.
“You don’t need anything, do you?”
“You didn’t text back, and I needed to see you,” he whispers, his head on a swivel as he glances from the front of the plane to the back, making sure we’re in the clear. “You look so pretty.”
Maddison snickers in the seat next to him. “Sorry.” He shakes his head, laughing. “Stevie, you do look great, but I can’t get over how much this guy sounds like me.”
“Shh,” Zanders hushes over his shoulder. “I’m busy being a couple.”
He brings his attention back to me and I crouch down next to his seat, making us eye level.
“I heard your brother’s team is in town tonight.”
“Yeah, I’m either going down to Miami, or he’s coming up. I’m not sure yet.”
“He’s coming up. Some of our guys are friends with their guys, so everyone is getting together.”
“Oh.”
“Is that not okay?”
“Well, no, not really. I can’t hang out with all of you.”
“I think it’s the perfect excuse. You can’t get in trouble for fraternizing when you’re just spending time with your brother.”
“And what about Indy? I was going to take her out tonight.”
“See if she’s cool with hanging out with the team, and if so, I’ll make sure the boys keep it quiet. If she doesn’t want to, that’s okay. I’ll steal you another night.”
I shoot him a grateful smile for understanding and not asking me to cancel my plans. “You guys feel good about this series?”
Zanders turns to Maddison, both of them sharing a look of humble confidence. It doesn’t often happen between the two arrogant men, but they’re good at keeping their heads level when it comes to hockey and the prospects of this post-season. And with the first round of playoffs already underway, they need to be.
They’re already two games up on Florida, and two more wins on the road will give them a first-round sweep.
“We’re ready,” Zanders confidently states before he looks up the aisle, clearing his throat, his eyes turning cold.
He doesn’t need to explain what’s happening. I already know.
“Sparkling water, you said?” I ask just as Tara walks by us.
“Extra lime,” Zanders adds as I hurry back to the galley.
The fresh ocean breeze blows my curls away from my face, and the warm sand slides between my toes as Indy and I step onto the beach right outside our hotel. South Florida’s evening temperature is perfectly warm, which is a nice reprieve after spending the last six months traveling to some of the coldest cities in North America.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” I ask my coworker as we make our walk over to one of the beach-front bars on the main strip in Fort Lauderdale.
“I’m good.” Indy shrugs. “I mean, I lost my apartment and my boyfriend. If we get in trouble and I lose my job, I’ll just add that to the list.”
Her tone has sarcasm embedded in it, but I don’t think she’s kidding. She’s been down and defeated these last few weeks, and keeping her job is relatively low on her priority list.
Fitting, really, because that same concern has been rapidly dropping for the things I replace to be important in my life while being allowed in public with my boyfriend is quickly rising.
“And I have no shame in throwing myself at a professional athlete,” she continues. “I’ll lose my job and let him pay for all the shit I can’t afford, like moving out of my parents’ house.”
I slip my arms through hers, eyeing her with a bit of worry. “Let’s go get you a drink and some attention from men who are ten times more attractive and successful than your ex.”
My brother’s teammate, Dom, rushes me the second we walk into the bar, a beer outstretched in his hand. “Little Shay! I got you a drink.” His attention slides to my left, replaceing my stunning blonde-haired friend. “Holy hello, ma’am.”
“Dom, this is Indy. Indy, this is Ryan’s teammate, Dom.”
Dom’s moment of shock shifts, transforming back to his typical swagged-out self. “What am I buying you to drink?”
Indy eyes the beers in his hand, one for him and one for me. “Alcohol,” she says, stealing a bottle from his hold and chugging it as quickly as possible.
Dom’s eyes widen in shock as he watches her. “I’ll um…I’ll go buy you another one, little Shay.” He scratches the back of his neck in bewilderment.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not sure that I’m drinking tonight.”
I hadn’t made that decision until now, but seeing Indy in this state and knowing Zanders plays tomorrow and is probably taking it easy tonight, the more I’d rather stay sober.
We follow Dom to the rest of his team, but the high-top tables scattered around the bar consist of an equal mix of Chicago’s basketball and hockey players. A few of the guys from the Raptors give a questioning look to my coworker and me, never once seeing us outside of the airplane or in different clothing other than our uniforms. But when my brother stands, taking two quick strides and wrapping me up in a hug, that’s when the eyes of the boys I work for begin to practically bug out of their heads.
I figured tonight would be the night everyone found out that my brother is the point guard for Chicago’s basketball team, and surprisingly, I don’t really care. The insecurities I once held about people using me to get closer to my sibling aren’t as strong anymore. Or at least, I now know how to spot the differences and stand up for what I deserve.
Regardless, too many eyes are staring at me in confusion as silence overtakes the somewhat crowded bar.
“You guys can all chill the fuck out,” Zanders calls out to the rest of his teammates as he stands at a table in the back with Maddison and Rio.
“How do you know Ryan Shay?” one of the younger guys, Thompson, from the Raptors asks.
Standing next to my brother, it’s got to be easy to figure out. Ryan’s eyes match mine. His skin shares the same tone and freckles, and the hair that’s not tightly faded on my brother’s head is as curly as mine is. Sure, his 6’3′ frame overpowers me, but still.
“Are you related to Ryan Shay?” another guy questions in shock, mouth gaped.
“No,” Zanders pipes up once again, casually sipping on his water. “He’s related to her. Can you guys stop acting like a bunch of little fanboys and leave them the fuck alone?”
A few questioning glances get tossed to the back of the bar where he stands, which makes me worried that the secret of my brother being who he is won’t be the only one uncovered tonight.
The bar of thirty or so athletes resume chatting amongst themselves and trying their best to pretend like they’re not freaking out a little bit.
My gaze wanders back to Zanders’ as he softly smiles from across the room before he falls back into conversation with Maddison and Rio.
“Can I get you a drink?” Ryan looks down at my empty hands.
“I’m okay. Ryan, do you remember Indy?”
He turns towards my coworker. “Oh. Yeah. Hey.”
“Hey,” she repeats, equally as uninterested. Or embarrassed, I’m not quite sure.
Ryan pulls his buzzing phone out of his pocket. “Shit,” he mutters before declining the call and hiding his phone away once again.
“What?”
He shakes his head to tell me nothing, but I know something is up.
“Ryan.”
He exhales a sharp breath. “Some of the old college guys made the road trip down from North Carolina for the game tomorrow. I got them tickets. Brett is with them.”
“Ry, what the hell?”
“I know, I’m sorry. I told them Brett wasn’t invited, but apparently, nobody listened to me because he’s here. He’s in town.”
“No shit!” Rio’s arms swing over both Indy’s and my shoulders. “It’s a playoff miracle. You two are out with us?”
I shrug out of his grasp, leaving him to hang on my friend before I look back to Ryan with worry plastered on my face about the bomb he just dropped.
“You guys look so hot. I mean so…beautiful. Pretty? What do girls like to hear?”
A light laugh is shared between Indy and me.
“We like to hear that our tab is covered from you buying all our drinks. Let’s go, Rico Suave.” Indy pulls him to follow her to the bar.
Rio turns back my way. “Oh. My. God!” he silently mouths, green eyes wide and way too happy.
“Interesting,” Ryan notes.
“Rio? Oh, he’s harmless. He’s practically a golden retriever.”
“I meant your friend. Indiana? The one who was crying to Celine Dion at three AM.”
A large hand slyly grazes my lower back, fingertips digging into my hip, but I don’t stiffen from the touch.
“You following me?” Zanders bends down, lips ghosting my ear.
Turning to face me, his hazel eyes rake down my frame, taking in every inch before he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.
I stare right back at him, wishing I could touch him. Kiss him. Hold his hand. Just about anything, really, but all I can do is look. So, I fucking look.
A white linen shirt has the privilege of gracing his upper half, the top few buttons undone, exposing his deep skin and gold chain. His pants are a shade of olive, the lightest pair I’ve ever seen him wear, but they look expensive as hell, nonetheless. This is different, seeing him in something other than his typically all-black structured outfits.
“Okay, just because you two are dating,” Ryan whispers for only the three of us to hear. “Doesn’t mean I need y’all to eye-fuck in front of me.”
“Can’t help it,” Zanders says without hesitation, his attention locked on me. “She’s stunning, and last night she did this thing with her—”
I quickly slap a palm over his mouth before regretfully pulling my hand back. My eyes dart around the room, but it doesn’t seem like anyone saw me touch him so casually.
Ryan’s eyes screw shut, attempting to unhear what Zanders started to say. “She’s still my fucking sister, man. And if this is how you two act while you’re trying to keep it a secret, I don’t even want to know what it’s going to be like when you’re finally public.”
That thought hasn’t crossed my mind in a while, mostly because I haven’t allowed it to. It gets my hopes up, and at the moment, that dream is too far off to wish for now. Zanders needs to get re-signed. And the only way that’s going to happen is for him to maintain his hockey playboy image. At least, that’s what his agent believes.
I can only hope that once the papers are signed, he will no longer care about keeping up appearances, and hopefully, by then, I’ll have thought about replaceing another job.
Zanders looks down at my hands. “Can I get you a drink?”
“I’m not drinking.”
“Why not?”
“Well, because you’re not drinking, and I’m hoping you’ll take advantage of me later, but I know you won’t if you’re sober and I’m not.”
His lips begin to lift mischievously, dirty words on the tip of his tongue, but Ryan cuts in before Zanders has the chance to speak up.
“Still here and still your brother.”
“I’m going to go pretend like I don’t know what you taste like while I hang with Maddison until he decides to head back to his hotel room.”
“Still here,” Ryan deadpans.
Zanders’ hazel eyes get all soft and sweet. “You’re beautiful, Vee.” He turns to my brother, knocking fists. “Good to see you, man.”
My boyfriend goes off to hang with his friend, and I can’t help but watch his backside walk away from me. Perfect hockey ass.
“Giddy as fuck,” Ryan laughs, swinging an arm over my shoulders.
“You should try it sometime.”
“Nah. I’m good.”
“And ‘good to see you, man’? What the hell was that bromance?”
“We share the same arena and locker room. We see each other around. Don’t make a thing out of it.”
“Are you guys…friends?” My eyes are wide, a smile overtaking my face.
“Don’t be weird about it.”
“Indy, please love me,” Rio whines, his arm hanging on her.
“Rio. No,” she laughs, five margaritas in. “You’re still a baby. I would destroy your life. I would destroy anyone’s life right now.”
“You can destroy my life. I’d be perfectly okay with that.”
“Your boy is a little desperate tonight,” I whisper to Zanders as we stand at a table opposite Indy, Rio, and my brother.
“Every night,” Zanders sighs, leaning his shoulder into mine. “I tried to teach him, but he’s learned nothing.”
“I think his eagerness is part of his charm.” My entire upper arm presses into Zanders’, the only form of touching we can publicly do with too many eyes around us.
He shifts on his elbow, fully facing me and blocking out the three people across from us. “So, what’s my charm?”
“Your charm?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Well, your humbleness, clearly.”
“Clearly.”
“Your giant dick, obviously.”
“I see we’re done with the sarcasm bit.”
“But other than the obvious stuff, you make me like me, and I haven’t felt that in a long time.”
Zanders’ brows pinch together. “Vee, you can’t be saying stuff like that when I can’t kiss you for it.”
“Well, it’s true. I like who I am with you.”
“For fuck’s sake.” He looks around the crowded bar before his eyes fall back on me, leaning down and whispering, “Later tonight, I’m going to show you just how much the man you’ve made me likes the woman you are.”
“Indy, you’re single now. I’ve been single since…always,” Rio continues to beg, pulling our attention back to the table. “I don’t see the issue.”
“The issue is you need a teacher, which will be some chick’s kink, I’m sure. But it’s not mine.”
“Oh, come on, Indiana,” my brother chimes in. “You can teach him how to belt ‘My Heart Will Go On’ at three AM and keep everyone in an entire apartment building awake.”
Indy’s brown eyes turn dark. “First of all, my name is not Indiana!”
Oh, she’s drunk.
“And excuse me for having feelings, Mr. I-Had-To-Hide-In-My-Room-All-Night-Because-There-Was-A-Hot-Girl-In-My-Apartment-And-I’m-Afraid-Of-Them.”
Ryan’s mouth has fallen open. “Trust me. I am not afraid of girls.”
“I said hot girls.” Indy grabs a clear liquid shot off the table, pounding it back. “Like me.”
My brother’s light brown skin has lost some color, slightly fearful of the woman on another level tonight, but not a single thing Indy said was incorrect.
A bartender shows up with a shot for Zanders, nodding towards a couple of beautiful women perched up at the bar. “From them.”
All five of us look their way, but they keep their eyes locked on my boyfriend, fingers waving.
“Holy shit, man,” Rio admires. “Go over there.”
I uncomfortably adjust, Ryan and Indy’s eyes watching me.
“I’m good.” Zanders brushes off his teammate.
“C’mon, man, let’s go. And take me with you. There are two of them. You can share.”
“Nah, Rio. As I said, I’m good.” Zanders passes the shot off to Indy, who throws it back without hesitation.
“You’re boring this year, EZ. You rarely go out anymore. At least last season, I was able to pull your extras.”
“Pull?”
“Okay, maybe not pull, but at least I was able to occupy them while you were busy with their friends.”
That earns a laugh from the group, including me.
“Not really into it anymore, sorry, Rio.” Zanders’ ring-covered fingers hold his water, as mine do the same, centimeters from his. He slyly reaches out, stroking his index finger over mine and making sure I’m okay.
But honestly, I’m good. Why wouldn’t I be? I got the guy, and all he’s done since we’ve gotten together is remind me that I’m his only choice. So, there’s no jealousy happening on my end. More so arrogance.
Indy is offered a few more drinks when we migrate our way over to the bigger table in the back of the bar, where plenty of both my brother and boyfriend’s teammates sit. At this point, it’s pretty clear Indy is wasted, and I’m happy I stuck with water and can help her home when the time comes.
“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell us you’re related to Ryan Shay,” Rio drools. “I’m a professional athlete, but Ryan Shay? Even I’m fanboying.”
“Honestly, Rio,” my brother pipes up from the seat next to me. “Stevie is much more interesting than I am. Trust me. You have the cooler one of the two of us on your plane.”
“EZ, you’re up, man!” Thompson calls from a few seats down, motioning towards another table of women. They’re beautiful, with bodies barely covered thanks to the Florida heat.
Their focus is locked on Zanders at the head of the table, something I’ve become accustomed to, but this is the fourth time tonight one of his teammates has tried to test him, and it’s getting kind of old.
“I’m good. Just like I said the last three times,” Zanders reminds them before chugging back his water.
“But why not?”
Zanders hesitates in his seat, his eyes quickly darting to mine before averting back to the guys. “Because I’m not partying tonight. So, I’m good.”
“Yeah, you never drink during playoffs, but that hasn’t stopped you before. Come on, EZ! Give the tabloids something to write about!”
Unfortunately, Maddison is already back in his room, so he can’t help Zanders out of this one.
“Zanders, let’s go! Teach us your ways!”
Zanders’ jaw tics in annoyance.
“EZ, boy! Do what you’re best at!”
“Let’s see it! We want a show!”
“For fuck’s sake! Let it fucking go!” Zanders’ palms land harshly on the wooden table as silence overtakes the rowdy group. “I have a fucking girlfriend, okay? And she’s right there.” He motions towards me, completely fed up and frustrated. “So please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up.”
My cheeks heat from the attention. Mouths gape in shock, eyes are wide, and brows shoot up from every guy around the table. Quiet voices stir, mainly from the hockey team, as stares bounce between Zanders and me.
He shoots me an apologetic smile, throwing his hands up in defeat.
Those whispers among the boys grow to shouts as both the rowdy hockey and basketball guys start clapping and cheering.
“EZ has a girlfriend!”
“And it’s our Stevie of all people!”
“Have you guys fucked on the plane yet?”
“Okay, that’s my sister,” Ryan interjects.
Zanders’ moment of frustration has dissipated from his face, replaced with a boyish smile that makes me melt.
I can’t imagine how freeing it must feel for him to tell people, and not only that but for his teammates to be happy for him. Maybe that’ll give him the boost of confidence he needs to know that whenever he decides to show the rest of the world who he truly is, they’ll still love him too.
“If any of you say shit, I’ll fuck you up,” Zanders warns, his typical commanding presence coming back real quick. “Stevie will get fired if word gets out. So, don’t let it.”
“No fucking way,” Ryan sharply curses under his breath from the seat next to me, his eyes glued to the door.
My gaze follows his to replace a few of his old college teammates walking into the bar, most notably my ex.
Zanders must spot the blank look on my face because he trails my stare, and as soon as he turns around to the entrance, he takes off with lightning-quick strides.
“Oh no, no, no,” I mutter as I climb over the guys to my side, needing to get out of this booth before Zanders gets to Brett.
His muscular body is large and intimidating as I chase after his back.
“Evan fucking Zanders,” Brett taunts as soon as I grab the back of Zee’s white linen shirt, attempting to restrain him.
Zanders continues straight to the door, and I’m only slightly slowing him down by holding on to his shirt, but it doesn’t much matter because apparently, my boyfriend wasn’t the one who I needed to stop.
In a blink of an eye, Ryan charges past us, elbow cocking as he swings one heavy fist into my ex’s face.
The crack isn’t all that loud, but it silences the entire bar as Zanders and I pause dead in our tracks.
Brett grasps at his nose, the blood streaming past his fingers and onto the floor. “What the fuck, Shay!”
“That’s for my sister, you fucking piece of shit. And if you come around again when I tell you not to, the next hit you take will be for me.” Ryan turns towards his old college teammates. “Get him out of here.”
My brother’s anger is palpable, his chest rising as he turns back towards the table. “Fucking prick,” he mutters under his breath.
As Ryan passes by my boyfriend and me, Zanders holds his fist out, to which my brother proudly pounds.
Indy stops him in his path, halfway from the entrance to the table. “That was hot,” she drunkenly admits right before she keels over and releases every drink she had tonight all over Ryan’s shoes. “Oh God.” She slaps a palm over her mouth in embarrassment. “But that wasn’t.”
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