Page 24 of The Flight Risk

“You don’t get enough credit. You didn’t have to take on the responsibility of looking after a teenager. You did it anyway. You are her support system. You are that connection she needs and I can see how much she looks up to you, Tess.”

“You are sweet for saying so. I do love Lottie. I would do anything for her.” She sticks another fry in her mouth and diverts her eyes from me to watch the screen again.

“That’s the reason you never went, isn’t it? To Paris?”

“What do you mean?”

“Lottie.”

She shrugs. “She needs me. My sister needs me. Plus, I’m afraid of flying.”

“No, she doesn’t.” A rush of anger and frustration courses through me. “Don’t get me wrong, Lottie is the luckiest girl in the world to have you as her aunt, but your sister could’ve figured it out without you. Not that you aren’t important. Ugh, this is coming out so wrong.” I anchor my elbows on my thighs and press my clasped hands against my lips. “All I mean is, you don’t have to be your sister’s keeper. You have every right to live your life the way you want to live it. You don’t owe anyone anything. You especially don’t owe someone who doesn’t fill your cup in return. Even if she’s family.” A single tear escapes her eye and she wipes it away immediately. Fuck. I take a tissue from the box and hand it over to her. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m not crying because I’m sad.” She reaches for another tissue. “I’m crying because you see me in a way no one else has ever seen me. Thank you for what you said because I’ve been going crazy thinking that I should do this because she’s family. But the truth is, she’s never invested in my life. She’s always been focused on hers. Tara has been handed everything in life. Jobs always miraculously fell into her lap. New relationships would pop up like wildflowers and she would fall head over heels so quickly and then get upset when they didn’t want to go as deep as she wanted them to go. Ever since I can remember, she has looked after herself and I was perpetually waiting to see how I could help or to pick up the pieces when everything would go to shit.” She wipes away more tears. “Sorry. So much for a fun binge-watch of my favorite show.”

I helplessly want to reach over and wipe the tears trickling down her olive cheeks. Even when she’s crying she is achingly gorgeous.

She sniffles. “Anyway, I want to find something soon in terms of a job. I’m not going to sign my contract next year. Brooke has been suggesting for months now that I go work for her, but that’s not where my heart lies. I love her to death, but I don’t want to be her associate or employee. I want to be the fucking CEO and girl boss.”

An idea pops into my head, and before I can fully explain my train of thought, I blurt out, “Be my CEO.”

She snorts and a smile finally returns to her pretty face. “What?”

I adjust in my seat, turning fully toward her. I grab her hands and hold them in mine. “I have been thinking about next steps in my career and the most logical one, the one that means the most to me, is to have a foundation where I help kids who need extra support. Medical bills. Living expenses. Bullying. Really any challenge that arises in their life. You hit the nail on the head earlier when you said everyone needs more support and love. I want my foundation to be that safe space people can turn to for help without judgment.”

“That sounds amazing, Oakley. But what does this have to do with me?”

“I will obviously be the owner of this foundation, but with my hockey schedule and endorsement meetings, press, and photoshoots, I won’t have time to run it full-time. That’s where you come in.”

Her eyebrows crinkle together but I see a small twinkle in her eye, some hope that she might be on board with this.

“It’s a win-win for both of us,” I continue. “You get to have a job that helps kids be happier and create those connections you love so much. And you can be involved in any part of the process. You can run the socials and help promote the foundation or curate your own team to do any of the tasks you want them to do. You’d be perfect for this, Tess. I may be the face of the foundation, but you will be the brains of it. You know how to talk to people in a way that makes them feel seen and important. That’s what I need.”

She is slowly nodding along to my proposal. It’s a long shot, but I know she would be perfect for this role. We would be co-workers but I will risk that potential messiness for the sake of making her happy.

“Just think about it,” I tell her. “You don’t have to answer me right now.”

“I will.” She reaches for the remote and presses play. “You up for another one? Or are you too tired?”

Relief settles into my stomach and calms any inkling of doubt or worry. “Not too tired. Go ahead.”

14

Ifeel a large, calloused hand brush against my bare legs. I look down and there’s Oakley, in all his shirtless glory at the edge of the bed, watching me pleasure myself with my trusty vibrator. My breath hitches as he props one of my legs up on his bulky shoulder. He kisses my entire leg until he reaches my center and my chest heaves. His lips feel almost as good as they did on my lips the other day. “Oakley, what are you doing here?” I feel so exposed, yet I’ve never felt safer.

“I wanted to see what you look like when you come for me. Plus, I wanted to play with you.” His hand firmly grasps my hand that is holding the vibrator and follows my lead. His deep voice sends shivers across my entire body. “Can I play with you, Tess?” His tongue grazes my inner thigh and he takes control of the vibrator. “Please. Let me.” He holds down my hip against the bed and I’m completely at his mercy. I’m not used to not being in control, but with Oakley, I don’t mind it. I’m so turned on by him moving the vibrator the exact way that I like it and then he does something I was not expecting him to do–he removes the hand that is pressing my hip down and starts fingering me. My toes curl under and I take in the satisfied smile spreading across his face. My hands clutch the soft silky sheets and my back arches. Oakley curls his fingers up and...

I sit up, gasping for air. I’m in full body sweats. I glance at my phone screen. 6 A.M. on a Saturday. I crash back onto my pillow. My skin is covered in a sheen layer of sweat, like I put on body oil. I have never been this turned on after a sex dream and I am extremely disappointed that’s all it was–a dream. I kick my feet under the covers in frustration because it has been way too long since I’ve slept with anyone. Living with a teenager is a major cock block and I have been so busy with life. There is also the small insignificant detail that I can’t get a certain hot, and nerdy, goalie out of my mind.

I want to relieve this ache in my core, but I hid my vibrator in my closet at my apartment when I was getting my place ready for Lottie to move in. I didn’t want her to stumble across it accidentally and spark an entire conversation I’m not ready for. Though if she ever had any questions about sex, I would probably be the safest person she could come to with no judgment and complete honesty. I never want Lottie to feel ashamed when it comes to sex and I know she is entering a stage where that reality is on the horizon.

I accept defeat this time and make a mental note to go out and get a vibrator at some point and expertly hide it from both Lottie and Oakley. Although, I would not mind Oakley finding it. Images flash both from my dream and the steamy kiss we shared and my body is tingly all over again. “I need to go on a walk,” I say out loud, hoping that will kickstart my day on the right foot.

I know Lottie won’t be up for at least a couple of hours, and I know I won’t be able to go back to sleep with almost naked, spicy Oakley on my mind. I stretch my arms up on my way to the bathroom and start to vigorously brush my teeth. Stupid dream. I don’t think I can look Oakley in the eye for at least twenty-four hours. He was too sexy in that dream. And I already know that he is a damn great kisser. He may have the reputation of a good boy, but based on how he kissed me, I sense he is a freak in the sheets.

After I finish my multiple step morning skincare routine (yes, I am that girl) I set my hair in a large claw clip, throw on my favorite workout set and quarterzip, cropped crew socks and tennis shoes. My large headphones are fully charged and I press play on my Main Character Playlist. Luckily, Oakley lives next to a beautiful nature trail and I have been taking advantage of the crisp fall air finally setting into Dallas. I’m totally immersed in my music, halfway dancing along my walk. My body can’t seem to shake off the effects of my dream so I begin to do something I have sworn I’ll never do– jog. How bad can it be?

Turns out very bad. There’s a reason I walk and not run or jog in any fashion. It’s awful and I instantly regret it when my feet hit the pavement with an impact that does not feel good on my body whatsoever. I last maybe two minutes before I call it quits. How people electively run marathons is beyond me–good for them.