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
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