Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Minerva

I dragged my suitcase down the hallway at four fifty in the morning, eyes still heavy from barely sleeping. My shoulder ached from how tightly I had packed everything last night, and my head pounded with the leftover anger from yelling at Liam.

The facility exit loomed ahead, the automatic doors already sliding open to the cool early air. I checked my phone again. Five o’clock sharp. Kendrick better not be late after all that talk.

“Minerva, wait up.” Liam’s voice cut through the quiet like he had been waiting there the whole time. He stepped out from beside the vending machines, hair messy like he had not slept either.

His eyes looked desperate, the same way they did when he wanted something from me. He grabbed my arm, not hard but enough to stop me. “You cannot do this trip. Drop it right now. Tell Coach you are sick or whatever. I will back you up.”

I yanked my arm free and kept walking toward the doors. “Liam, leave me alone. I told you last night I am done. This is my job. I am not skipping anything because you suddenly feel guilty.”

He followed right behind me, talking fast. “Guilty? Baby, this is not about guilt. That guy Kendrick is trouble. He does not care about anybody but himself. You saw how he looked at us yesterday. He is going to make your life miserable the whole three days. I know him. He is the captain but he is cold as hell. Please, just stay here with me. We can fix things. ”

I spun around near the exit, my suitcase wheels squeaking loud on the floor. “You kissed my stepsister right in front of me. Do not stand here acting like you are saving me. I am trying to be professional and do my internship. You only want me back because you hate seeing me around someone else.”

Liam stepped closer, his face all twisted up. “That is not true. I still love you. Years together, Minerva. You cannot throw that away. And Kendrick? He will chew you up and spit you out. Drop the trip. I will talk to Coach myself if I have to.”

Before I could snap back, heavy footsteps came from behind me. Kendrick appeared at the door, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, looking tall and annoyed in the dim light. He took one look at Liam’s hand reaching for me again and stepped right between us. His voice came out low and firm, the kind that made people listen on the court.

“Back off, Liam. She is my PT for this trip. You got a problem with that, take it up with Coach. But right now, you are not cornering her at five in the morning.”

Liam puffed up his chest like he wanted to argue. “This is none of your business, Dola. Minerva and I have history. You do not know what you are getting into with her.”

Kendrick did not move an inch. He crossed his arms, staring Liam down. “I know enough. She is here to work, not deal with your mess. As captain, I am telling you to step back. We have a flight to catch and a game to prepare for. Do not make this a bigger scene than it already is.”

I stood there, heart racing, watching the two of them face off. Liam looked ready to swing, but he knew better. Kendrick was bigger, calmer in that scary way, and the whole team respected him even when he was being a jerk. Liam muttered something under his breath, shot me one last pleading look, and finally backed away.

“This is not over, Minerva,” he said before turning and walking off.

Kendrick glanced at me, his jaw tight. “You good?”

I nodded, grabbing my suitcase handle again. “Yeah. Thanks. I could have handled it.”

He snorted a little, already heading toward the waiting van. “Sure looked like it. Come on. We are already cutting it close.”

The ride to the airport was quiet except for a couple other players yawning in the back seats. I kept my eyes on my phone, pretending to check notes for Kendrick’s shoulder routine. Every few minutes I felt him looking over, but he did not say anything. I did not need more lectures about drama this early.

At the private jet, things moved fast. We boarded, and I found my seat in first class, right next to the window. Kendrick ended up in the aisle seat beside me because of course the league put us together for easy access if his shoulder acted up.

I buckled in, trying to ignore how close his arm felt when he sat down. The engines started humming, and my stomach flipped. Not just from the takeoff.

Everything from the last two days crashed around in my head, Liam’s words, Kendrick’s cold shoulder in the hall, the way he had pinned me against the wall. My breathing started getting weird, shallow and fast.

I closed my eyes, telling myself to chill. This was just a short flight. Three days in Chicago. I could do my job and stay out of his way like he wanted. But my chest tightened more.

My hands shook on the armrest. Air felt like it would not go in right. Panic hit me hard, the kind that made everything blurry at the edges.

Kendrick noticed right away. He shifted in his seat, turning toward me. “Hey. Minerva. Look at me.”

I tried to wave him off, embarrassed. “I am fine. Just… takeoff.”

“You are not fine.” His voice stayed low, rough around the edges but not mean this time. He reached over and gently took my hand, placing it on his chest so I could feel the steady rise and fall. “Breathe with me. In slow. Hold it. Out slower. Come on.”

I wanted to pull away, tell him to stop acting nice after being such a jerk, but the panic had me frozen. His chest felt warm under my palm, solid, moving even and calm. I followed his breathing, in for four, hold, out for six. My eyes stung with stupid tears.

“There you go,” he said, leaning closer so only I could hear. “Again. You are okay. Nothing is falling apart right now.”

I sucked in another breath, shaky. “Why are you being decent all of a sudden? Yesterday you called me a drama bringer.”

He sighed, thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand without thinking about it. “Yesterday you were yelling at your ex in the hallway. Today you are about to pass out on a plane. Different situation. Just breathe.”

I let out a weak laugh that sounded more like a sob. “Great. So you only help when I am dying. Noted.”

“Smartass even when you cannot breathe straight,” he muttered, but there was a tiny hint of a smile in his voice. He kept guiding me, counting the seconds under his breath. “In. Good. Out. You got this.”

The plane climbed higher, and my heart rate started dropping thanks to him. His face was closer now, checking my pulse at my wrist with two fingers. Heat from his body rolled off him, that same clean smell from his shower the other night hitting me again.

My stomach did a different kind of flip. Fear mixed with something warmer, something I did not want to name. His low voice rumbled near my ear. “Pulse is coming down. Keep going.”

I shivered, not from cold. His chest was right there, inches away, and every breath he took I felt it. The way his shirt stretched over his muscles, the rough edge in his tone like he was trying not to care too much but doing it anyway. It woke up parts of me I thought were buried under all the Liam hurt. I hated how good it felt.