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His eyes are big, bright blue, and dreamy, the kind I could get lost in.
“Perhaps the guy at the desk thought you were gorgeous and upgraded you to try to impress you.”
“Impressing a woman you’re attracted to is crucial,” he continues.
“What do you like about rom-coms?” he asks as he keeps his eyes on the screen in front of him. “Men who don’t talk during movies,” I whisper into my champagne glass.
“This is probably where you should tell me that all men hate Backseat Barbies, Jim. Don’t you know anything about polite plane-conversation etiquette?”
“I don’t understand how someone as hot as you doesn’t get fucked three times a day.”
His eyes drop to my lips, and the air between us zaps with electricity.
“Because I’d break that drought of yours and initiate you into the Miles-High Club.”
His big eyes hold mine, the same beautiful deep-blue eyes that hypnotized me twelve months ago. It’s him.
“Given any poor unsuspecting travel companions hickeys lately?” he asks.
Welcome to the Miles-High Club . . .
“He’s very abrasive and not good with people, but his mind is beyond incredible.” Like his dick.
Does being initiated into the Miles dick-riding club classify as a human resource issue?
“I met him.” I fucked his brains out too.
This particular meeting is of a private nature.
“But it was the way you kissed me that I remember the most.” My eyes search his. “How did I kiss you?” “Like you’d been waiting your whole life to kiss me.”
Dear God . . . the man can kiss.
For a long time, we kiss like we’re the only two people left on earth.
“And look how fucking beautiful you are,” he says tenderly as he cups my face in his hands.
“We’re not dating, Jameson. We’re just fucking. Get it right.”
We kiss like we’ve been starved of each other.
Tomorrow I start fresh with Emily Foster.
“Let me tell you this—disrespect Emily Foster again, and next time . . . I won’t just break your cheekbone. I will kill you,” I sneer.
“Oh.” His face falls. “Well, that’s going to be uncomfortable.” “What is?” “When I follow you to your parents.” “You are not coming to my parents,” I scoff. “Watch me.” His eyes dance with mischief. “You won’t talk to me; I’m going to keep following you until you do.”
“You know what’s unbecoming?” I whisper angrily. “Jerks who break girls’ hearts and think that they can snap their fingers and get her back at the drop of a hat.”
Have a good day. This is my burner phone in case of an emergency.
Cheesecake for my cheesecake. xoxoxo
“I can’t live without you, Em. I’ve been so fucking miserable that it’s been unbearable.”
