When Aria Monroe lands her dream job as the new photographer for Los Angeles's professional hockey team, the last thing she expects is to work with the cocky, arrogant center Connor Holden who rocked her world five years ago during a one-night stand...
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There's so much blood.
It's everywhere.
I'm scrambling on my hands and knees on the tiled floor, desperate to make it to the other side of the room. I don't even remember falling. How did I slip? How did I end up here with this sticky and warm substance coating my palms?
All I can hear is crying and screaming, but I don't know if it's coming from my mouth or not. My body is numb. No matter how much I seem to crawl, the room continues to get longer. I'll never make it. I'll never make it in time.
God, why didn't I check?
Why didn't I fucking—
Waking with a gasp, a hand flies to my racing heart as I'm surrounded by darkness. My heart is hammering away, a cold sweat sticking to my skin. It takes me a few seconds to recognize I'm not crawling on tile anymore in a cramped bathroom. I'm here. In my bedroom. Safe, while she is—
No. I won't let myself go there. Not today. The minute I start thinking about her will force me into a downward spiral that I'll never recover from, and today is an important day. It's my first time traveling by myself. I can't let my past haunt me.
Rolling my head to the side, the alarm clock reads three in the morning. I have a long day ahead of me, and something tells me I won't be getting any more sleep. Just great.
***
Five hours later, I'm wheeling my suitcase towards the private plane, my tiny legs racing to pick up the pace. I would have made it on time if it hadn't been for my incessant need to check on everything. Was the stove on? Checked three times. Was my door locked? Checked three times. Everything had to be checked, and even when I left the house, I still wasn't confident.
A man grabs my suitcase to stow with the others, and I send him a tight smile before I begin to ascend the steps leading into the plane. I've ridden only once on a plane, which also happened to be private, and that was when I accompanied Esme on their family vacation to the Maldives. Although, I don't remember much about that trip aside from...
Ugh. I will not think about Connor fucking Holden! Not again.
I brought a pillow and a blanket with me, which are clutched tightly in the crook of my elbow as I quickly glance around the plane for an empty seat. Most are taken, given the sheer size of the hockey players and how many are flying. This plane ride should be short, only an hour or two. We're flying to Arizona to play against the Phoenix Cardinals, a team I've heard can be difficult to beat.
Connor clears his throat when I reach the aisle he's sitting in, shoving his duffel bag off the now-empty chair beside him. "Aria," he drawls in a voice sexier than it should be, but when his eyes reach mine, the smile fades from his face. "Are you alright?"
