Confident
Gentleman
Intelligent
Respectful
Sense of humor
Chase checks off every one of the items.
“What’s that?” A gravelly voice asks, whispering across my neck. Chase leans his head toward his shoulder, toward me.
I angle away so he can’t see. “What’s what?” I ask like I don’t know what he’s talking about.
“I thought I saw my name?”
Caught off guard, because I figured he’d fallen asleep, I tuck my list to my chest. “It saidCrush. Not Chase.”
“Plotting ways to crush your enemies?”
“Not exactly.” At the moment, I’m my own enemy.
“I thought I also saw the words handsome and honest.”
“Mhmm,” I confirm vaguely. “Well, these are prerequisites for your, um, suitors. Suitees? Sweeties?”
“Honest? Yes. Handsome? Nope.” His gaze hooks mine and then drifts as he speaks. “I’m looking for a woman with brown eyes, brown hair, and full lips. Lovely neck. Medium height. Preferably with a lovely accent. Likes candles, Ted Lasso, and football. The American kind.”
His lingering gaze gives me the heart fluffies despite how much I try to ignore them. Chase is a charming flirt and isn’t number one on my crush list. No, he’s theonlyone, even though I know better.
Chase lets out a long breath. “Forgetting about all of this would make me happy. Moving on would make me happy. You’d?—”
“Can I offer you a drink?” the flight attendant asks.
I ask for chamomile tea so I can take a nap, because I, too would like to forget about all this. But there are too many hands in our lives—his commissioner and coach, the team, our parents, and now the dating show.
I’ve hit critical mass for dealing with people and their wants, needs, desires and demands. I only have one and he’s out of reach, even though he’s seated beside me.
After a few sips of tea, I shut down in three, two, one.
