Touch My Neck ✓

Chapter Thirteen | What was the hockey player's favorite part of his birthday?

Angel Huxley Novak

As I boarded the plane, I deliberately chose a seat towards the back, determined to avoid any awkward interactions with Eros. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of our previous encounter. I buried myself in my book, flipping through the pages, trying to distract myself from the anticipation of the journey ahead.

The low hum of conversations and the shuffling of bags filled the cabin as more of the team boarded. My attention lifted from the book, and my gaze inadvertently connected with Eros, who was making his way down the aisle. He carried a duffle bag on his shoulder, his movements commanding attention from the entire team.

He reached his seat and then, to my surprise, he paused and turned his head. Our eyes locked, and he set his duffle bag on the floor before striding purposefully in my direction. Confusion and curiosity knitted my brows together, and the hushed whispers from the team members heightened the unusual tension in the air.

"You have to sit next to me," he stated, his tone holding a blend of authority and expectation.

I scoffed, refusing to let his commanding presence sway me, and I continued to flip through the book nonchalantly. "I don't have to do anything."

Eros' words held an underlying implication that caught me off guard. "You have to, you're part of the schedule," he explained, the cryptic nature of his statement only deepening my confusion.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

Eros let out an exasperated sigh, his annoyance palpable. "You sat next to me on the first plane ride. It's part of the schedule now."

I glanced at our coach, hoping for some support, but his tired expression seemed to imply that there was no getting out of this. "Sorry, Angel, but when the goalie wants something, he gets it," he commented with a resigned shrug.

Frustration bubbled within me, and I slammed my book shut. With a defeated sigh, I stood up from my seat. Eros had already returned to his seat by then, watching me with an amused smirk. I made my way back to his row, and the eyes of my teammates followed my every step.

"Happy now?" I muttered as I begrudgingly took the seat next to him.

Eros leaned back with a satisfied grin. "Very."

Curiosity got the better of me. "So, what else is part of your schedule now?" I asked, my tone laced with a hint of playful skepticism.

He glanced over at me, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. "Our 6 a.m. sessions," he replied casually, engrossed in his book.

I raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. "Really?" I whispered, a small smile tugging at my lips.

He closed his book, turning to fully face me. "Yes," he said, his gaze steady. "I don't think you're a joke, Angel. In fact, I highly respect you, Doctor Huxley. I'm just not used to having you disrupt my schedule."

His words caught me off guard, and I found myself returning his gaze with a mixture of astonishment and something else I couldn't quite put a finger on. It was as if a new layer of his persona had just been revealed, one that I hadn't expected.

"Well," I managed to reply, my voice softer than I intended, "I appreciate your honesty."

He inclined his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Let's just say I'm willing to make an exception for the disruptor." 

A chuckle escapes my lips and he returns to his book, I, on the other hand feel my phone vibrate once again. 

I glance down and notice my dad messaging me.