Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“In my next life, I’m getting a fancy job that wants to fly me to events first class and pay for hotel suites.”
“Let’s hope it continues to be amazing. I’ve only worked here for two months. There’s still time for it to go to shit.”
“You say that from your comfy seat in the front of the plane.” She sighs dramatically. “I’m going to call my mom and tell her she was wrong. Cheerleading could’ve paid off for me big time. I mean, all that math and science crap didn’t get me anywhere. I do hair for a living.”
“You’re doing just fine for yourself, Miss Salon of the Year for six straight years.”
“Yeah, but I could be flying to Columbus, drinking champagne, and wearing cute clothes while schmoozing on someone else’s dime.”
“Well, when you put it like that …”
“Face it. I’m never wrong.” She yawns. “I gotta go. Maddie will arrive soon, and I must mentally prepare for her drama.”
“Have fun.”
“You have fun. Be safe. Drink your water. And call me when you land.”
“Yes, Mom.”
She laughs. “Love you, Ror.”
“Love you. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I end the call and pull out my earbuds.
The sky is much brighter, and the rain is more of a mist than a shower. Steam rises from the tarmac below.
A spark of excitement flickers inside me. I sit with it, holding my book on my lap, and enjoy the peace in my body. Finally, I can breathe without wincing. I can hope without it feeling pointless. I’m able to look toward my future and dream about the possibilities.
I’m free to … be me.
“Here’s your water, ma’am,” the flight attendant says.
I turn to take my drink from her, but instead of reaching for it, my attention focuses on a man standing at the front of the plane.
Ocean-colored eyes. Square jawline. Sinful smirk.
Whoever is on the other end of his call must be getting an earful because the veins in his temple pulse.
“Thank you,” I say, taking my drink from the flight attendant.
She glances over her shoulder, then grins at me knowingly.
The man passes aisle one and then aisle two. The lady by the window nearly breaks her neck looking at him. Aisle three is full. Chaos floods my body as he gets closer.
He stops at the seat next to me, flashing a killer smile my way.
Jamie, I’m sorry I lied to you.
I return his smile.
First class could—and did—get a whole lot better.
Chapter Two
Aurora
Take a breath.
“Hey,” he says, his tone entirely too sexy for a random Friday afternoon on an airplane.
“Hey.”
His mischievous grin tugs at the corners of my mouth as I smile wider.
He sits, sliding his bag onto the floor. It gives me a moment to take him in—and get myself together.
A white shirt loosely hugs his torso, giving a delicious hint of the hard pecs and washboard abs that I’m sure lie beneath it. One wrist is adorned with a heavy-looking watch, and his waist is wrapped with a brown leather belt. It ties into the golden-brown blazer, highlighting his broad shoulders.
His warm, creamy cologne kisses the air as he settles into his seat. He sits with his knees slightly apart, and they almost touch mine. His fingers slide down his thick thighs clad in dark navy pants. I hold myself back from letting my leg “accidentally” bump his to feel the spark I’m sure would race through my blood from the contact.
“This is the moment when I say something clever and you laugh,” he says, his gaze dancing with amusement. “But I have completely lost my train of thought.”
“Why?”
“Because I expected to sit next to someone much older and much less attractive than you.”
“Oh okay,” I say, my cheeks growing warm. “That’s smooth.”
“I’m glad I haven’t lost my touch.” He lets his smile linger for a long moment, and its heat curls through my veins. “I’m Tate.”
And I’m screwed—and not in the way I’d like to be right now.
“I’m Kelly,” I say, uninterested in giving this twentysomething hottie my real name—just in case. Red flags aren’t always apparent in the first two minutes. Besides, so far, he seems too good to be true. “Kelly Kapowski.”
“Kelly Kapowski, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The pilot’s voice comes through the overhead speakers, interrupting our exchange. Tate watches me expectantly, as if he thinks I’ll be eager to reengage with him as soon as the takeoff instructions have been delivered. While I’m not adverse to flirting with a handsome stranger, I am uninterested in sitting beside him and frothing at the mouth.
Been there, done that, and have two divorces to prove it.
I open my book and find where I left off this morning, pointedly ignoring my seatmate. But no matter how many times I re-read the first line of the chapter, I can’t forget Tate is beside me. I can’t let the story overtake him. Every tap of his foot and wiggle of his fingers stokes a fire in my belly—one I’m desperate to ignore.