He grins. “If you say so. Did you run through your pre-travel checklist?” His gaze sharpens, and his head tilts. He’s not making fun of me.
I follow his profile from his maroon beanie down to his bearded jaw. The detour to his heavy lower lip zeroes in on the slow bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.
Stop it.
“My checklist,” I blurt, drawing his brows together. My hands smooth invisible creases in my leggings. Traveling across the country in jeans is not a testimony. “I went through my checklist.”
“It’s a good system. I use it for away games and vacations,” he says, his focus swinging above my face. “I like this. Your hair twisted up.”
Oh.
My fingertips trace my pink and orange headwrap. I twist my hair and tie a scarf before bed. Nothing groundbreaking or fashion-forward, but it has Antonio staring. He does this more now, compliments my appearance. I always assumed he was being friendly. Now, I’m not so sure.
“Thank you.” I give him a curt nod and fight the urge to purr.
I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m hyperaware of him.
His scent.
The weight of his undivided attention.
The planes of muscle contouring his Henley.
The friction of his jeans as they rub against my leggings.
The change in altitude must be the culprit. That, or Antonio’s knee digging into mine.
Since graduating, a floodgate has opened that’s hard to close. Sexual thoughts sprout like hot flashes, to the point I had a telehealth appointment with my doctor to weed out perimenopause. My kitty vibrates at random times and could win a strongest-person competition dangling a car from between my legs.
Antonio excites my pulse every time I’m around him. Noteverytime, but enough. I guess it makes sense. He is the closest man in my life, and he’s a walking vessel of hallelujah.
“Doe. Did you hear what I said?”
“Hmm?” My teeth sink into my lip. His eyes are on me when I chance a glance. Capturing his attention shouldn’t intrigue me the way it does.
Stop.
We both blink away.
“I, uh, I said that I’m happy you came,” he stutters and clears his throat. His eyes ping-pong from the front of the cabin to the flight attendant light.
“Me too. You didn’t need to buy my ticket. First class is spacious but overpriced.”
Not that I’m complaining about complimentary champagne and a food menu that goes beyond cookies, pretzels, and canned drinks. It’s nice, but it wasn’t necessary.
“I told you, it’s part of your belated graduation gift and now a congrats about your future job. Did you reach out about the position?”
“I did.” A smile sprouts at the grin spreading across his face. “I spent the last two days looking into the organization and its efforts to make healthier food more accessible on the East Side. I start next week.”
Ms. Amber and Aanya possess a synergy that drew me in before their pitch. A power from multiple elements coming together to yield greater results than the sum of their individual capabilities.
That’s shared purpose, and I want in.
I blow out a long breath. “I hope I know what I’m doing with the kids.”
“You will,” Antonio says with finality. “Now we celebrate.” He leans against the seat and pats my hand. “And first class was necessary. I didn’t want the guys overwhelming you. All the starters plus the seven reserves are coming. I’m already a handful. Multiply me by twenty-one, and you’d be looking for a parachute.”
I push the boulder that is his bicep. “You’re not that bad. Your team, either.”
