I haven’t seen Riley yet, and when I can’t find him, I frown. “Where’s Mitchy?” “Did you miss me, Armstrong?” his deep voice says, and I jerk my chin to look up at him. “Eavesdropping, Mitchell?” I toss back, and he grins. “Hard not to when you’re practically shouting my name to the whole airplane.” Oh, I like this version of him. It’s the cocky, sarcastic side he doesn’t show too often, but when he does, it’s a sight. Fun, and definitely flirty. Light and carefree. I’m seeing more and more glimpses of this Riley, the guy he was before that night in June, shining through his personality
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