MILE HIGH

38

My head is on a swivel as I enter the dark club, looking around. This place is packed, even for a Saturday night, and it’s hard to see through the crowded space. The music is so loud and overbearing that I’m about two seconds away from turning around and going right back to my hotel.

“You following me?” someone yells over the music.

Chasing the sound, my eyes wander to the corner of the club to what looks like a VIP area. It’s sectioned off from the rest of the room with red velvet ropes, and the reserved space is littered with beautiful women.

Really, they’re stunning. Tall, thin, all different beautiful skin tones and hair colors.

What the hell am I doing here?

“Stevie.” Zanders stands from the couch, finally coming into view. “Hey.”

I walk towards him as he removes multiple grabby hands from his body before meeting me partway. He nods towards the security guard in charge of the velvet rope, ushering him to move it and let me inside.

“Come here,” Zanders says, loud enough for me to hear over the crowd as he grabs my hand and guides me to follow behind. His fingers lace between mine as a pulse of electricity flows up my arm.

He leads us to the very back of the dark VIP section, earning some privacy and fewer vibrations from the pounding music coming through the speakers.

“Is anyone else from the team here?” I nervously ask.

“No, just me.”

Looking around the room to be sure, I nod, thankful he had the foresight not to invite me to a place that would be packed with my clients. This thing I’m about to do is bad enough. I don’t need everyone on the airplane to know about it. Especially his teammates. I hear the way they talk about their hookups, and even though I’m about to be one, I’d rather no one else know.

“Ready to do this?” I look at him with pleading eyes, needing to get this started before I chicken out or come to my senses.

“Whoa there. Eager, are we?” Zanders laughs. “At least buy me dinner first, sweetheart. I’ve never felt so used.”

His humor breaks my nervous tension as a small laugh escapes me. That is until I look behind him at the countless model-esque women who are currently giving me the death glare for taking away their jersey for the night.

“You have quite the room full of options.”

He doesn’t turn around. Instead, he keeps his focus on me. “I always have options.”

That puts a bitter taste in my mouth as I look anywhere other than at him. Especially since less than an hour ago, I heard from the guy who always reminded me that’s all I ever was—an option.

“But I’m glad my first choice showed up.”

Zanders’ hazel eyes are soft yet full of fire as he looks down at me, causing some of the nerves to disappear. His words fill me with the bit of that confidence I need to do this tonight.

“What made you change your mind?” he asks, softly brushing my curls away from my face with the edge of his thumb.

“Honestly?”

“Always.”

“My vibrator died, and I didn’t pack my charger with me.”

Zanders studies me for a moment, questioning my authenticity before his deep laugh leaves his chest and fills my ears. “You really know how to keep a man’s ego in check, Stevie girl.”

I can’t help but smile right back at him. It’s all good. Tonight is going to be fun.

“Should we go then?”

“Eventually,” Zanders says. “But first, we’re going to hang here for a bit.”

Shifting behind me, his large hands splay over my hips, urging me to walk forward. But he stays close, his chest at my back.

“Where is here?” I ask over my shoulder as Zanders leads us to the private bar in the corner of the VIP section.

“Here is one of my favorite stops on the NHL schedule. A pair of brothers I went to college with own this lounge. One does the business side of things, and the other’s band headlines every weekend. He’s crazy talented. I think you’ll like his music.”

“This music?” I furrow my brows in question, referring to the atrociously loud bass vibrating the entire room.

“No. This music is shit.” Zanders releases me from his hold when we reach the bar. He casually leans one arm on the counter, effortlessly looking hot as hell. “But when Nicky’s band comes on, you’ll get it.”

“What can I get you, Mr. Zanders?” the bartender asks.

“She’ll take a beer.” He motions towards me, and I have no idea how the hell he knew that. “IPA, yeah?”

“Yeah...”

“And I’ll take the same.”

Instead of interrogating him on how he knew my drink order, I question, “What are your other favorite stops on the NHL schedule?”

“Fort Lauderdale is always a good stop because, after about twenty cities of bitter cold, South Florida is a perfect seventy degrees in the middle of winter. You’ve been there before with other teams you worked for, I’m sure.”

I shake my head to tell him no. “Miami, yes. But I’ve never worked for a hockey team before.”

“Well, we all stay right on the beach when we’re there, so it feels like a mini-vacation during those trips. And New York City is a good stop, too. But I’d have to say that Columbus is my favorite on the schedule.”

“Columbus?” I ask in surprise. “Like Ohio?”

“Ohio State is in Columbus. I went to school there, so my old college teammates usually come out for the game. It’s the closest thing to home besides Chicago.”

“So, you grew up in Ohio? You have family there?”