Fight or Flight - Page 15/72

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I’d never say this if you were awake because … well, we both know you’re an asshole … but I needed this. It’s … it’s been a shitty week. And this was nice. Uncomplicated. Thanks for being just the guy I could have sex with.” I smiled. “And thanks for living up to my grand expectations. Not that you need your ego stroked.”

I turned and moved across the room, grabbing my purse off the floor. Then I stopped and looked back at him, sleeping peacefully. “And P.S. You win when you realize that anyone can hurt you, even those you never expect it from. Once you know that … you’ll never be knocked off your feet long enough to lose.”

As I slipped out of the hotel room, I knew deep down I hadn’t said those words to a sleeping man who couldn’t hear them. I’d said them to myself. Because as much as I didn’t like the bastard … he’d somehow still taken something from me in there, and I couldn’t have that.

Even though he had slipped past my defenses, I needed the reminder that it didn’t mean I could trust him.

Seven

Although I had to get up early to catch my flight, I woke up feeling refreshed, realizing I’d slept better than I had in ages. I didn’t walk away from Caleb filled with regrets and I didn’t overanalyze. I truly appreciated our one-night stand for what it was: a major stress reliever. As soon as I’d gotten back to the room, I’d passed out on my bed, out like a light.

The overthinking came the next morning while I was in the shower. It wasn’t so much overthinking or regret as really the wish that I hadn’t said as much as I had about Nick and Gem. I wasn’t so drunk the night before that I couldn’t remember every second of it. I didn’t mind my inhibitions being lowered enough for me to have sex with Caleb, but I did mind that they’d been lowered enough for me to talk about Gem’s death. Reassuring myself that it wasn’t a huge deal because I’d never see Caleb again, I was suddenly hit with harsh reality. I would see Caleb again. He was on my freaking flight to Boston.

I really, really hoped we would not be sitting next to each other.

“Awkward” didn’t even cover it.

Still, it wasn’t worth getting worked up about, so I attempted to shrug that niggle off my shoulders and sweep away the nervousness in the pit of my stomach. To my relief, I didn’t see Caleb in the hotel as I checked out and headed along the walkway to the airport.

The more I thought about my epic sexcapades with the Norse God (in my head I allowed myself to call him that because, seriously, the man had found my G-spot), the chirpier I became despite my anxiety over seeing him again. I had not once in my life engaged in a one-night stand, but it would seem that I did it perfectly. I chose a seriously sexy (if unlikable) man to sleep with, he gave me the best sex of my life, and the cherry on top of the icing on that cake? He was from an entirely different continent, and after this flight I would never see him again in my life.

“What you grinning about, girl?” the cheery security personnel said, smiling at me as I handed her my passport and ticket.

I hadn’t even realized I was smiling. I lied, “I’m happy to be going home.”

“Well, you have a nice flight,” she said, handing my documents back to me.

“Thank you,” I returned sincerely. Seriously … good manners did matter.

And positivity really did attract positivity.

After I got through security, which was heaving with people—even the fast-track line for first and business class—I strolled into the busy terminal, heading for the nearest coffee cart. Miracle of miracles, there was only one guy in front of me, and soon I was holding a grande macchiato in my hand, relieved to be going home, and feeling so sexually satisfied that I thought maybe the universe was looking out for me after all. Last night with Caleb had been a much-needed diversion. Thanks, Universe. I owe you one.

Only a short time later, reality intruded far too quickly and I wondered if the universe and I really were on such good terms after all. It was awkward seeing Caleb again.

I looked down at him, sitting in the aisle seat adjacent to my aisle seat in the first-class cabin. His eyes pierced me as he sat there with his food tray out and his laptop open at the ready. Today he wore a black henley, sleeves rolled down, with dark blue jeans and biker boots.

“Excuse me,” an annoyed voice said behind me. I turned to see that while I was staring at my one-night stand, there was a line building up behind me.

“Sorry.” I moved to the overhead bin above my seat and had just bent down to pick up the carry-on when it was out of my hands and up into the bin. I blinked in confusion at finding Caleb standing so close beside me that our bodies brushed.

He looked displeased that we had to share another couple of hours together.

Well, why help me with my carry-on, then? I dropped down into my seat. As soon as he was seated, I said through the line of moving people, “You knew we’d be on this flight together, so I don’t know what the dirty look is for. Why are you going to Boston anyway?”

“Why are you?”

“I live in Boston.”

“Koto’s North American division is based out of Boston. I have a meeting there.”

“If your meeting is in Boston, what the hell were you doing in Phoenix?”

“It’s called a layover.” He smirked and turned back to his laptop.

“Ha ha ha.” I glared at him. “Your wit is unparalleled.”

Caleb shot me an assessing look. “You seem awfully upset I’m on this flight, considering you were fully aware I would be.”

“You have to admit, it is a little awkward.”

“Facing your sins, you mean?”

“Actually, yes.” I lifted my chin haughtily, my voice lowering as I lied, “I can be forgiven, however, because I was drunk.”

Indignation claimed his features. “You were as sober as I was. You regret it, fine. But own your actions.”

I stiffened at the derision in his voice and realized he was right. The truth was, I didn’t want to feel vulnerable around him, and that was pretty much how I was starting to feel. The lie had slipped out as a defense. “Fine, I wasn’t drunk.”

When no response was forthcoming, I side-eyed him and saw he was working on his laptop, ignoring me once again.

Sighing to myself, I pressed the power button on my e-reader, determined to ignore him for the duration of the flight. At least it was a short flight.

“Excuse me.”

I glanced up at the smooth voice to find a guy around my age looking down at me.

“I’m in the window seat.”

“Oh, of course.” Unlike Caleb yesterday, I got up out of my seat to let the guy in.

“Thank you.” He flashed me a flirtatious, charming smile. “Must be my lucky day.”

Normally I’d just wave a comment like that off, but I was too aware of the Scottish bastard, and I wanted him to know I was just as unaffected by our one-night stand as he was. “Some guys have all the luck,” I joked affably, hoping it came off as charming versus conceited.

The guy chuckled, moving past my seat and into his. He wore a suit that fit him so perfectly it had to be tailored. He hunched over a little in the space to shrug out of the suit jacket.

“Would you like me to take that, sir?” A flight attendant appeared at my side.

“Yes, please.” He handed the jacket to her. Handsome. Check. Well mannered. Check.

Not that I was interested, but it was safe to say today’s seatmate was a step up from yesterday’s already.

“Could you take mine?” I began unbuttoning the red peplum jacket of my suit. I’d had the hotel dry clean it too.

“Of course, madam.”

Ugh. Madam. I missed the days of being a “Miss.” Still, I smiled gratefully as I handed it to her with a thank you.

I slid back into my seat well aware of my new companion’s eyes on the black silk cami I wore tucked into my skirt. Turning to him, I gave him a small smile, which he returned. The guy had dark chocolate brown eyes, long sooty lashes any woman would have killed for, and a smooth Rob Lowe circa St. Elmo’s Fire look about him, minus the hair. This guy’s hair was thick, dark, and waved so perfectly back from his forehead he had to be using product. And a very expensive barber.