Ethan sat on the edge of the seat, his leg bouncing up and down, moving faster with each passing minute. He glanced at his watch, frowned, looked back up and searched the waiting area. The crowd had grown in the last fifteen minutes. Each seat by the gate was taken, most of the occupants busy reading magazines or looking at their phones or even working on their laptops. And who the fuck took a laptop to the Caribbean?

Even more people stood around, clustered in small groups, talking in low tones or looking around impatiently. Ethan's eyes drifted past the crowd. He leaned forward, stretching, looking past the people waiting and searching the faces of those walking the concourse.

He sighed and leaned back, his leg bouncing again.

A large hand clamped down his knee, holding his leg still. Ethan scowled at Dillon and brushed his hand away. "What the hell is your problem?"

"You are. You're acting like a damn two-year-old with ants in his pants. Relax. There's still plenty of time."

"Easy for you to say," Ethan muttered. He looked around again, his gaze catching Brad's. The goalie was staring at him, the paper he'd been reading now resting in his lap. Ethan scowled and sat back. "What?"

"Nothing. Just wondering if you were thinking about pedaling the plane there, that's all."

"Just…shut up. I don't need to hear it."

"You need to hear something because I swear to fu—" Brad stopped, looked around, then cleared his throat. "I swear to Christ, if you act like this when we get down there, I'm going to drown your ass."

"Act like what? I'm not doing anything. I'm just ready to get going, that's all."

"You are so full of shit."

"Yeah?" Ethan looked over at Dillon. "And you're not nervous at all? Not afraid they won't make it?"

"No, I'm not. I know my wife will make it."

"Really? Because we're supposed to start boarding in fifteen minutes and I don't see her."

"She'll be here."

Ethan had no problem hearing the words Dillon didn't say. Yeah, Maggie would make it. But would Cindy be with her? Maybe.

Maybe not.

Cindy had sent him a text last night, just a quick one: was it still okay with him if she joined them? Them, not him. He stared at it a few minutes, trying to read into it, trying to figure out if it meant anything other than what it said. Then he typed back a quick reply: sure, no problem.

Cindy's only response had been a stupid fucking thumbs-up emoticon. Yeah, great. What the fuck was he supposed to make of that?

Nothing, that was what. Absolutely nothing.

Then Dillon had called and asked if Ethan could pick them up. Except, when Ethan got there this morning, it was just Dillon—because Maggie was over at Cindy's and would meet them there.

Did that mean Maggie was bringing Cindy? Or had Cindy changed her mind and Maggie had gone over there to change it back? Ethan didn't know, was almost afraid of the answer.

He shifted and grabbed his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, frowning as he looked down at it. No messages. No missed calls. Should he text Cindy? Or just wait? No, he should text her, find out now—

Dillon pulled the phone from his hand and shoved it into the side pocket of his cargo shorts.

"What the hell?"

"Leave it alone. Unless you're planning on playing games like Corbin over there."

Corbin looked up when he heard his name, then quickly looked away, trying to hide his phone. Brad laughed as Corbin's face filled with color.

"Trust me, he's not playing games. He's trying to get his ass kicked."

Corbin muttered something in French, the words too soft and low—and too fast—for Ethan to catch. But Brad must have understood because he tossed his head back and laughed, the sound catching the attention of the people around him.

"Yeah, you talk real big, lover boy. You just better hope Ian doesn't catch you. Or that it's not actually Ian you're texting. For all you know, he could have swiped his niece's phone."

The color drained from Corbin's face as he stared at the phone, holding it out at arm's length like he was afraid it might reach out and bite him. Then he frowned and gave Brad a look that was surprisingly ferocious.

"Non. I know I am speaking with Lori. She would not let him do that."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

"Are you seriously texting Ian's niece? After that last talk you and Ian had?" Dillon rolled his eyes in disbelief. "You need your head examined."

"We are only friends."

Brad nudged Corbin in the side, hard enough that Corbin jerked back in surprise. "Yeah, right. Uh-huh. Sure you are."

Ethan watched the byplay, saw the emotion that crossed Corbin's face. He shot the young goalie a sympathetic look, knowing exactly how he felt.

Just friends, when he wanted more.

Ethan started to move, thinking that maybe he could sit next to Corbin and give him some advice. Or maybe commiserate. He had just started to stand when a flurry of activity caught his attention. He looked over as Maggie pushed her way through the crowd, her backpack hanging from her arm. She stopped in front of Dillon, blew out a heavy breath, and pushed the glasses up her nose.

"Sorry. There was an accident on 695 near Security Boulevard. I didn't think traffic would ever clear."

Dillon rose to his feet and pulled her in for a quick kiss, not bothering to hide the smile from his face or the emotion in his eyes. Ethan looked past them, his eyes searching for a slight woman with swaying blonde hair and deep green eyes. Disappointment flooded him and he pushed it back, told himself it didn't matter.

Told himself he hadn't really expected Cindy to make it, no matter how much he wanted her to.

He leaned back in the chair, suddenly drained. No, not drained. Empty. His earlier enthusiasm—as small as it was—disappeared. The idea of spending four nights in the Caribbean with a handful of his teammates suddenly lost its appeal. He didn't need to go on this trip. He could cancel the appointment he'd set up and just spend the weekend around his place—

The gate attendant's voice came over the loudspeaker, the sound broken and tinny over the noise of the crowd. Ethan couldn't hear what she said, doubted if anyone else could, either. But everyone suddenly started moving, some more slowly than others, all of them anxious to get moving.

All except for Ethan.

Dillon leaned down and grabbed his carry-on. Brad and Corbin stood as well, their own bags in their hands.

But Ethan didn't move. Didn't want to move. Didn't want to go. Not now, not anymore. What should he tell Dillon? Maybe he could say he wasn't feeling well, or that he suddenly remembered something else he had to do. Yeah, because Dillon wouldn't see through that at all.

Then again, maybe he wouldn't, not with the way he was so focused on Maggie, one arm draped around her shoulders as they laughed and talked. No, Dillon didn't notice—but Maggie did. She tilted her head to the side, her brows lowering over her eyes.

"Cindy's on her way. She had to stop and use the restroom."

Ethan was suddenly on his feet, the disappointment from a few seconds ago vanished. "Cindy's here?"

"Yeah. I thought—didn't she send you a text last night?"

"Yes, but when I didn't see her, I thought she changed her mind—"

"I'm here."

He turned at the sound of Cindy's breathless voice, then had to physically restrain himself from pulling her into his arms. She looked different than she had the other night, when she was at his place. Healthy color filled her cheeks and a small smile hovered around her mouth. Was that excitement in her eyes? Or merely exertion from rushing? He opened his mouth, closed it again, not sure what to say.

Then his gaze shot to Brad. He was standing behind Cindy, rolling his eyes. Then he raised his right hand up to his forehead, his index finger pointing up, his thumb extending out as he mouthed a single word: loser. Ethan shot him a dirty look then felt his face heat when he noticed Cindy watching him.

He cleared his throat and moved, positioning himself between Brad and Cindy. Then he jammed his elbow into Brad's gut, biting back a smile at the man's small "oomph".

"I'm glad you changed your mind."

Cindy glanced up at him, her small smile shy and almost hesitant. "Yeah. Me too."

The gate attendant made another announcement and a smaller group of passengers moved forward. Ethan placed his hand in the middle of Cindy's back then just as quickly dropped it. He ignored the odd expression on Cindy's face and motioned toward the gate with a quick nod of his head. "I think this is us."

"But they called for First Class to board."

"Yeah, I know. That's us." He stepped forward, waiting for Cindy to follow him.

"Seriously? First Class?"

"Yeah. Actually, I think it's more like Business Class but whatever. I need the extra leg room. Didn't you look at the ticket?"

"No, I guess not." She hesitated, readjusting her grip on the small roller bag, then moved forward with everyone else, stopping to give the attendant her ticket before heading down the jetway.

Cold winter air seeped into the small tunnel, damp and chilly. Ethan watched as Cindy shuddered and pulled the jacket tighter around her. He moved next to her, offered her a quick smile.

"Just think: in a few hours, you'll be on the beach, drinking up the warm sun."

"Yeah." She smiled again then looked away, stepping forward.

Almost like she was trying to get rid of him.

Disappointment swept over him again and he pushed it away. Friends. Just friends. He had to keep telling himself that, had to keep reminding himself. And being friends with Cindy was better than nothing.

He took a deep breath, trying to get into the right frame of mind so he could survive this trip. Maggie leaned forward and said something to Cindy. Both women turned to look at him, then Cindy shook her head and said something back to Maggie.

What the hell was that all about?

"Dude. You are so fucked."

Ethan turned to stare at Brad. "Dude? Seriously? Are you trying to channel Mat now or something?"

"Usually, no. But in this case, it seemed to work." Brad stumbled like he'd been hit from behind. He glanced over his shoulder then spun around, pulling something from Corbin's hand. "And you. You are not going to be on this damn phone all weekend. I'll throw the damn thing in the ocean if I catch you on it. In fact, I'm taking it away. You can have it back when we get home."

Corbin reached for it but Brad was faster, jamming it down the front of his pants. A look of horror crossed Corbin's face and he quickly snatched his hand back.

"Non. You did not—"

"I did. Yeah. Get over it. You need to be a little quicker next time, Grasshopper." Brad took a step forward, grimaced, then took another step. He frowned at Ethan. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Just remember, you're the one who shoved it down your pants."

"Yeah. Whatever. Go already, you're holding up the line."

Ethan looked around, surprised to see that Dillon and Maggie and Cindy were already stepping onto the plane. He hurried down the jetway, the floor bouncing beneath him as he caught up to them. By the time he made it past the smiling flight attendant, Maggie was already seated next to a window, her e-reader in hand. Dillon was placing their luggage in the overhead bin and Cindy was standing in the aisle, her head moving back and forth between the two rows.

Ethan hesitated, not sure what to do. Their seats were across the aisle from Dillon's. Did Cindy want to sit with Maggie? Maybe she'd be more comfortable—

Brad bumped into him with a grunt. Ethan caught himself before he ran into Cindy, then gave her a weak smile when she looked at him.

"Did you, uh, want to sit with Maggie?"

"What? Oh. No. No, that's fine."

"The aisle seat maybe? That way you guys can talk or whatever—"

"No, the window seat is fine. I mean, unless you want it?"

"Oh, for crying out loud. Would you two just move so I can sit down and get this damn phone out of my pants before it starts vibrating again?"

Cindy's eyes widened and a small laugh escaped her. But she didn't ask any questions, just slid into their row and settled into the soft seat. Ethan shot Brad a dirty look, placed his own suitcase in the overhead, then slid in next to Cindy.

He shifted around, trying to get comfortable. His elbow knocked against hers and he mumbled an apology when he felt her stiffen. And Christ, was it going to be like this the whole flight? With him afraid to move? Afraid of accidentally touching Cindy? Yeah, the seats were bigger. Yeah, the center armrest was more like a console. But he liked to spread out and get comfortable. Was it going to freak her out and make her uncomfortable if he did that? If he accidentally touched her again?

Maybe. So he'd just have to suck it up and deal with it. That's what friends did. He swallowed back the bitterness that came with the thought, then smiled as the attendant stopped by their row and asked what they'd like to drink.

He ordered an orange juice then turned, waiting for Cindy. She glanced at him uncertainly then said she'd have the same. The attendant left and Cindy leaned over, her shoulder brushing his.

"I think I could get used to this."

Ethan smiled, his first real smile of the morning. "Yeah, it is kind of nice."

Cindy nodded then settled back into the seat, her arm resting next to his, not quite touching. Her head was turned to the side as she gazed out the window. Ethan tried not to stare at her, tried to busy himself with watching the other passengers as they eventually filed by.

That only worked for a few minutes, right up until one passenger met his gaze and did a double-take as recognition flared in his eyes. Normally it didn't bother him, especially since it didn't really happen that often. And hell, the way he figured it, the fans were paying his salary.

But Ethan didn't want to be bothered that way today. Not now. Not this weekend. He looked away and leaned to the side, like he was getting ready to talk to Cindy. She turned her head and their noses nearly bumped. She sat back, startled.

"Sorry." Ethan muttered the apology then leaned back, his face heat in embarrassment.

"No. I'm sorry." The words were soft, so soft he almost missed them. He turned his head, his heart slamming into his chest at the expression on Cindy's face: remorse, sadness, regret.

He swallowed, tried to say something but nothing came out. It didn't matter because she kept talking, the words quiet and hesitant. Her gaze met his, flitted away, came back to his.

"You were right. The other night. Everything you said was right."

"Cindy—"

"I've been kidding myself, thinking that I was doing the right thing. Kidding myself about everything. I was just scared. And I'm sorry."

Ethan swallowed again, tried to force a smile to his face as he told himself not to read into her words. But he still couldn't stop the faint glimmer of hope that flared deep inside him. "You don't have to be sorry. And I understand."

"Do you? Really?"

Maybe. He wasn't sure. But this wasn't the place to ask more questions. Not here, not now. So he nodded and smiled again. "Yeah, really. I mean, that's what friends are for, right?"

Something flashed in her eyes, something that turned the green even deeper. She looked away and chewed on her lower lip for a few seconds. And when she turned back to him, the expression in her gaze took his breath away. Her hand reached for his, her fingers trembling as they threaded with his own and squeezed. And then she smiled, a small one filled with hope.

"No, that's what people who care about each other—who love one another—are for."

Ethan swallowed, searching for words—but he couldn't get them past the lump in his throat. So he didn't say anything, just leaned forward and caught her mouth in a sweet, gentle kiss, hoping that was enough.

For now.