Page 24 of Striking Heat

“What do you meantravel mate?” I ask him, confused.

He chuckles and I instantly want to smack him. It’s arrogantand all-knowing. I hate being kept in the dark, but it seems like some deal was struck and now he’s following my every move.

“August invited me here to tag along, get a good sense of the team. What it’s like to be on a travel day. Thought it might be fun to spend some time with you.” I roll my eyes, which only causes the grin he’s wearing to grow. “What, are you a nervous flier?”

It’s teasing and I can tell by the shit-eating look on his face that he thinks it’s funny. Irritation is growing in my tone, and I hate that I now have to be civil. All I really want is a nap.

“Why are you flying?” I ask him with another eye roll. “Don’t you just sprout wings and talons and fly to Chicago all by yourself?”

My irritation and change in attitude only seem to spur him on. “Tell me something, baby, is rolling your eyes a part of your cardio or something, because damn, you sure do it a lot.” He teases, avoiding my question.

“No.” I’m fighting the urge to roll my eyes again. “Fuck you. Why are you here again?”

“I already told you, August has me traveling with the team.”

“Yeah, but why are you comingnow? The game isn’t until Friday, and since when do the local reporters fly to Chicago to cover the local team? That just seems like a big fat waste of money and space and…” I’m ticking the reasons off on my fingers when he puts his fingertip on my lips.

“Because I’m going to be writing an article about you, and I’m getting the full experience.”

I hate the way his touch causes me to shiver. I hope my body didn’t give it away. But the huge-ass grin on his face tells me that he noticed.

I groan. “Where is a soccer ball when I need one?”

“Now, now. You promised Cromwell you were going to behave,” he reminds me.

I know I did, but even still, I’d love to rip that smug look off his face.

His photographer, who I remember meeting the other night, comes up beside him. “Hey, how long until we board?”

Of course he’s traveling with him. How would Danny ever be able to properly report on us without his wingman? Nick still doesn’t seem to acknowledge that I exist, just like the other night, causing my already shortened temper to flare some more. Danny remains in front of me, watching me.

“Soon,” he says without even glancing in his direction.

“You may have to wait awhile,” I say. “I don’t think you have priority boarding.” I know the team does, and there are a lot of us, so it will take some time for everyone to get on the plane and get situated.

“What is he doing here?” Cassidy says to me as she joins us. “Starbucks finally got my order right.”

“He’s flying over to Chicago for the story, apparently,” I reply, making sure she can see the annoyance written all over my face.

“Really?” Cassidy stares over at him in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? The paper is paying for that?”

“Well, kinda,” the cameraman says.

“Nick,” Danny snaps.

“What does kinda mean, Nick?” I ask him, turning my attention to him.

“He paid for our tickets,” he explains. “We’re in first class because that’s how Danny wanted to fly, so he upgraded us.”

“Dude!” Danny exclaims.

“What? She looked all scary!” Nick says, holding his hands out in front of him like he might have to hold Danny back. Even though we both know he’s just instigating.

“I see. Thank you, Nick.” I grin and turn my attention back to Danny. “Had to fly first class, did ya?”

He shakes his head. “It seemed like a good idea.”

“Uh-huh.”