Page 43 of Pucking the Team

“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 ofFemme Fatale, you know, becauseyou 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.