1
MCASSHOLE
Poppy
“Thanks for the ride, Matt.”I lean in to hug him.
“No problem. I’ll be right behind you on Saturday and leave the car here since I’ll only be gone one night. Sorry I can’t go with you,” he says as he closes the trunk.
“Don’t be. We’ll be busy with the bachelorette party and rehearsal dinner anyway. I’m so excited to meet Cici’s friends.”
“Have fun and give her a big hug for me.”
“I will. See you soon.”With a final wave and smile, I head inside the airport.
Once I’m through the dreaded security checkpoint, I make it to the gate with fifteen minutes to spare and find a seat. I text another thank-you to Matt and message Cici that I’m here. I’m on my way to be a bridesmaid at her wedding. We met when she moved to Bozeman a few years ago and were at the same real estate company as new agents. It wasn’t long until we became inseparable and have been besties ever since.
She was the friend I never knew I needed—someone wild and carefree, who brought me out of my shell. She was the yin to my yang and pushed me while I reined her in.
Sadly, she recently moved back to her hometown of San Diego to marry Eli, somebody she’d dated before moving away. Super happy for her, but for me…? Not so much. I still have Matt, the third in our trio, but he’s not as good a wingman as Cici. It’s a little harder to pick up guys when you’re with one.
I put my phone down and glance around. Bozeman is still a small town, and it’s common to see a familiar face. However, these days, it’s less and less likely with all the tourists coming in because of thatYellowstoneshow. It never fails to amuse me when new clients ask if anything like that really happens. My answer is always the same: a shrug with a quick “I hope not,” leaving them to wonder.
I’m still perusing my surroundings when the hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on catches my attention. He’s in a suit, which is the first thing to make him stand out. Bozeman’s business attire is casual, and ties are rare.
His smooth, chiseled jaw contrasts with sideburns that should look that good on no one. His dark brown hair is perfectly trimmed and styled, like he’s about to do a photo shoot, not sit on a cramped plane for hours. He reminds me of the lawyers on the showSuits,and I can’t seem to drag my eyes away.
He catches me staring and raises one eyebrow. It’s like I can read his mind, asking me if I like what I see. My cheeks heat as I divert my attention to my phone in embarrassment. I’m sure the guy knows he’s hot, so I won’t inflate his ego any more than it probably is. It’s not as if someone like that would spare me the time of day anyway.
I’m not unattractive, but I tend to give off nerd vibes that turn men away. Could be the freckles that are basically unavoidable if your hair color rhymes with bed. Add in the glasses, since I’m too lazy most days to put in my contacts, and you’re left with a pretty librarian. Notice I didn’t saysexy. I’m just not the stereotypical idea of a hot date.
I’m twenty-five, single, have zero prospects, and expectations higher than a kite. I’m losing hope and I blame my parents. They metyoung, have been married for thirty years, and are still as in love, if not more so, than when they said, ‘I do’. They’re the main reason I’m so picky, but after watching Cici sampling all the goods before her happily ever after, I’m rethinking my thought process.
Though that’s hard to do with my brother’s parting words before he left for the Navy. He said every male is out for one thing and one thing only, and if you give it to him, you might as well kiss them goodbye.
So I’ve decided that when the right man comes along, I’ll know. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. Maybe my luck will turn, and a single hottie will be at the wedding. Sparks will fly, and we’ll have an instant connection. That’s how it works in the movies, anyway, so I’m praying it happens.
I chance another glance in Suits’ direction, and this time I catch him staring at me. He’s smirking, like he knew I’d look again. Jerk with an inflated ego, but then again, that’s to be expected when the guy looks that good.
I’m saved from any more embarrassment when the gate agent announces boarding. Suits stands up and walks over to the line for zone one, which tells me he’s blessed not only in the looks department but also the entitled one. Figures. He’s definitely way out of my league. Not that it matters, since we won’t be talking anyway, but sometimes it’s nice to fantasize.
Waiting for my group to be called, which is probably the last, I contemplate what I’ll need to do when I arrive. I won’t have much time before the bachelorette party tonight, so I wore my going-out clothes, a skirt with a cute tank top and a jean jacket. I’ll have to freshen up, though—apply some makeup, take my hair down, and replace my glasses with contacts. Other than that, I should be ready to go.
It’ll work out perfectly, since not only did Cici book and pay for my room where the wedding is taking place, but she insisted on having her driver pick me up from the airport. Did I mention she’s marrying a billionaire? She certainly chose well. But then again, do youreally have a choice where love is concerned, or does fate choose for you? I’m going with fate.
When what feels like group eighty is called, I pop up, anxious to board, but when I scan my boarding pass, the machine makes a loud beeping sound that causes me to panic. Thankfully, it’s short-lived since the gate agent grabs a small piece of paper that spits out, and hands it to me with a smile on her face.
“It’s your lucky day, you’ve been upgraded to first class, seat 2A.”
I take the slip of paper from her. “Wow, thank you!”
“Enjoy your flight.”
I’m beaming as I walk away. This has never happened before—not that I fly a lot, but still, this is so cool. It could be a sign that good thingsarecoming this weekend.
I’m giddy as I wait in the line of people on the jetway, excited to experience first class, already picturing the glass of champagne I’ll be greeted with. At least I think they do that. They might even serve a meal, though the alcohol alone makes it worth it.
The flight attendant greets me warmly, and I beam back excitedly as I go by. My eyes are trained upward until I spot my row and letter, when I glance down in surprise at the person seated next to me. It’s Suits. Quickly schooling myself to act natural, I sit to let the people behind me pass while my heart thunders in my chest.
