She sighed. “Nothing, I swear. I just forgot how quiet the apartment is without you.”
“Are you calling me loud?”
“Well, I?—”
“Oh,shit.”
I had just decided to stop staring at the airport lounge like a raccoon locked out of a restaurant when suddenly someone emerged. It wasn’t the beautiful, perfect woman from earlier. No, it was someone much worse.
I could almost see the confusion on Kira’s face. The way her lips turned down and her brown eyes narrowed.
“What’s shit?”
“Noah Hansley is here.”
Oh, God, he wasn’t alone either.
Seconds later, the perfect woman exited the lounge and flagged Noah down to ask him for a selfie. I attempted to hide behind a pole as I watched the whole incident go down. Unfortunately, the woman was immune to Noah’s charms.
My neck cracked in two places when I peered around the pole to watch them. Should I visit a chiropractor about that? Wasn’t twenty-four too young to need the services of a chiropractor?
“What is that Instagram bad boy wannabe doing there?” Kira asked.
“No idea.” Probably relaxing and drinking martinis before boarding his first-class flight. “Listen, I gotta go, but I’ll see you at home, okay?”
Noah Hansley was the last person I expected to see at theairport, but I shouldn’t be surprised. The thought of him relaxing in classy airport lounges while I suffered in public areas made my eye twitch. It wasn’t fair.
Must be nice to be a tall, pretty boy who could get anything he wanted. Maybe it wasn’t so much the face as it was his million followers on Instagram.
Not that I kept track of his follower count. It frustrated me that all influencers had to do was show up at an event, snap a few selfies, and share a clever caption.
Meanwhile, I spent countless hours researching and writing long, in-depth articles. How was I rewarded? With smaller corporate checks and fewer press trip invites.
Noah had made it very clear that he didn’t like me. Which, honestly, didn’t bother me. The problem was that he didn’t respect me. When we met a year ago, we completely hit it off and even talked about doing a collaboration. I had DM’d him some ideas, which he never responded to. He ghosted me completely.
For a young woman trying to build her career, it was frustrating to be denied a basic level of respect from a man showered in it for just existing.
Noah’s adoring fans on social media may love him, but he was an asshole. Most of his fans were into the smooth, didn’t-give-a-fuck-about-anything bad boy image. I didn’t get it.
The last thing I wanted to do was try to play nice with Noah. We usually ignored each other, so if he knew I was here, that was what he would?—
Oh, he was looking in this direction. It was fine. He’d look away any minute and go back to pretending I was lesser than him.
Except he didn’t.
I blinked once. Then twice. Pretty sure my vision faded for a moment there, but when it became clear again, it was Noah’sbright green eyes I was looking at. So bright they were almost yellow. Like a warm spring day.
He took one step forward in my direction. On instinct, I dropped the remainder of my coffee cup into the trash and bolted toward baggage claim.
Not taking that risk.
Once I was safe in my new haven—baggage claim 7—I leaned against the wall and waited for my polka dot luggage to come swirling down. Unlocking my phone, I tried to catch up on all the social media posts I’d neglected while working this weekend.
I was grateful that I was invited—whale-y grateful, if you will—but I was so exhausted. Between writing about whales, spending long hours by the sea trying to capture the perfect video, and running, I hardly stopped moving all weekend.
I opened Instagram. I ignored my notifications, aka fifteen memes sent from Britney when she was supposed to be studying, and mindlessly scrolled through my favorite travel bloggers. Clever captions, cute selfies, and gorgeous sceneries. Rinse and repeat.
Don’t do it, Macey.
