"Ah, the groupies," Connor said, sighing with mock-wistfulness until Lana punched him lightly in the bicep. "Those were the days." He laughed and ducked her next swing, then caught her arm and hauled her into his side, planting a loud kiss on her. "Just kidding, baby. You know you're the apple of my eye."
"Apple of your eye?" Lana repeated wryly, unable to hide a smile. "No wonder you never get the girls, saying shit like that."
Drew couldn't help laughing at them, trailing slightly behind as Connor insisted on walking with both arms wrapped around Lana's waist. They were met outside by a stretch Hummer limousine.
"What the hell is that?" Lana asked.
"Hey, you guys!" a loud voice called, and Carter Steele leaned out of the opening door. "C'mon. Let's go see our boy get it in!"
Drew eyed the extravagant vehicle before catching a look of annoyance on Connor's face. She knew if Heath were here, he'd throw his hands up and insist on walking rather than ride in the outrageously over-the-top luxury transportation. Connor seemed to be of a similar mindset.
"Hotel shuttle would have sufficed just fine," he called back, a slight edge in his voice.
Carter shrugged cheerfully. "This is how the big-time do it, bro. Get in!"
Connor sighed but pulled Lana after him, and Drew trudged after them. She let Carter help her inside, ignoring the little grin he gave her as he gestured to a leather seat.
"Sleep well?" he asked pointedly.
"Not well enough," she shot back.
He smiled and shrugged. "I don't make the rules," he said mildly.
"So how's he doing?" Connor asked.
"Good. You know how he is. The strong silent type. More like moody. Anyway. He's doing fine."
The ride to the Niagara Center was short and Drew thought the limo would stop in front at the main entrance where floods of people were gathering, waiting to be let inside, but it drove around to the back of the center. She started to relax a little, glad they seemed to be able to bypass any real crowds.
Her relief was short-lived and dismay filled her when she saw there was a horde of people at the back entrance.
"Press entrance," Carter informed them. "Well, press and groupie entrance. Security can't keep 'em away technically, they can only keep 'em back. They know this is the place to be since all the fighters come back this way."
"Why are we allowed to come through here?" Lana asked.
Carter shrugged. "It's also the friends-and-family priority entrance," he replied. "You can get to the dressing rooms and to the entrances to the floor, for ring-side seating, much easier this way." The limo pulled to a stop and he reached for the door. He looked at Drew. "Brace yourself."
She stepped out after him and waited for Connor and Lana to follow. In the next instant she was overwhelmed with shouts for their attention. Connor was instantly recognized and security stepped forward to help their little group past the small but seething crowd.
Somehow, she found herself separated from the group as three reporters converged on her and shoved tape recorders and microphones in her face.
"Who are you?" one of them demanded. "Are you with Carter Steele?"
"What?" Drew said. "No! He manages my boyf –"
"Heath Riley," another reporter interrupted. "He manages Heath Riley. Are you Heath's guest?"
"Something like that," she responded, trying to step away from them and rejoin her group. She couldn't even see them anymore; only several tall security guards.
"Are you his girlfriend?" the third reporter demanded. "Heath Riley has a girlfriend?"
"Drew!" she faintly heard Connor call. She ducked away from the reporters and tried to push through the crowd.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" an angry female voice said. Drew glanced over her shoulder and saw another group of women. "If we can't get in, you damn sure can't!"
"You that desperate for the dick?" another woman asked, laughing.
Drew glared at her and turned back around. She locked gazes with a guard.
"Please," she called. "I'm supposed to be in there."
"That's what they all say," he replied. "Nice try, though. You might want to come at me with a tight dress next time."
"Keep moving, Mr. Steele!" she heard. She tried to peek around the security guard.
"Carter!" she shouted. He glanced over at her, then turned away quickly. She watched him call out to a leggy blonde and trot after her. "Carter!" she screamed again.
"Oh, now she actin' like she know folks," another woman said, and several voices laughed at her.
Drew felt a confusing mixture of rage and anxiety start to build in her. Now she was feeling hands pushing at her back, shoving her against the security guard, who was turning to glare down at her. Did they not see her get out of the limo with everyone? Why wouldn't they let her through?