I chuckle to myself as I slip my glasses off and place them on the counter behind me, massaging my temples. My bun is starting to hurt my head as it always does when I have it up for too long. I pull off the hair-tie, letting my brown hair tumble down my back. It’s really long—just below my waist—and a mousy sort of brown, the kind that isn’t shimmering or exotic or anything, it justis. I’ve never given it a great deal of thought, but as I run my hands through it now I wonder if maybe I should dye it or something. The new me would do that.
The more I think about this Harriet 2.0 plan, the more I like it. I feel empowered, like I could do anything. I’ll have to thank Steph for pushing me to try this.
“Wow.” I glance up to see Luke in front of me, his eyes wide. “Your hair.”
I cock my head in confusion. “What?”
“It’s…” he trails off, taking another step closer to me. He shakes his head, a smile building on his lips. “Harriet, whoever told you that you weren’t pretty was way off. You are. You’re beautiful.”
Oh.
There’s a flutter behind my ribcage. Is he serious? No one has called me beautiful before. Once a guy said I was “kind of cute,” but that was years ago. And he was drunk.
I gaze at Luke, with that gorgeous smile on his mouth, and all of a sudden I’m hot everywhere. I just want to reach out and grab—
The plane jerks and Luke’s smile vanishes. He presses his eyes shut again, one hand gripping the edge of the counter, the other instinctively reaching for mine. But the second he touches me, I lose all rational thought. My body takes over and I push up onto my toes, brushing my lips over his. The electric current inside me sparks, zapping right down through my center.
Wow.
Then I come to my senses and stumble back, grimacing with horror.
Oh my God. What the hell iswrongwith me? I’ve never done something so brazen in my life.
I open my mouth to apologize, but stop when I see Luke’s face. His eyes are open, and even though the plane is still rocking, that smile is back. He lets go of the counter and grabs me by the waist, pulling me hard up against him, pressing his mouth back onto mine.
Holyshit.
“Is this okay?” he asks against my lips.
My brain is short-circuiting. I can barely reply, I’m so breathless. “Yes,” I manage, kissing him harder.
Oh, yes.
4
Iclose my eyes and submit to the desire sweeping through me. I cannot believe I’m kissing a stranger on an airplane, but I can only blame Harriet 2.0.
Luke turns me and nudges me up against the counter, angling his head to deepen the kiss. When I part my lips, I feel his tongue lick against mine and fire burns hot through my veins. I’m overcome with the urge to jump up onto the counter and pull him between my legs, and that’s when I remember that we’re in public. A flight attendant could come back here at any moment. Shit, would we get in trouble?
I spy the bathroom door over Luke’s shoulder and before I know what I’m doing, I take his hand and lead him towards it, slipping inside and turning back to face him. He hesitates in the doorway, eying me, and I wonder if I’ve gone too far.
I mean, what the hell am I doing? My pulse is ringing in my ears, my body is vibrating with adrenaline, my thighs are squeezing together with want. I don’t even recognize myself.
But after a quick glance down the aisle, Luke steps into the space and shuts the door, locking it. The dim light pings on and he turns around, his gaze colliding with mine. And in that shared moment of understanding, everything shifts into high gear.
Our mouths crash together. He kisses me with a new kind of hunger, biting down on my bottom lip, tasting me. My hands move over his back, feeling the firmness of muscle under cotton. I tug at the bottom of his shirt, loosening it from his pants. I’m not sure how long we have and I don’t want to waste a second.
“God, you’re hot,” he growls, dragging his mouth over my neck and raising a hand to cup my breast. His fingers tighten on my nipple through my dress and goosebumps race across my skin.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” I whisper back with a giggle. I slide my hands up the front of his shirt and grope for his buttons, dying to see his body, to touch him. I’ve never needed to touch someone so badly in my life.
“Shit.” Luke draws back, his forehead pinching. “I don’t have a condom.”
Disappointment is a sharp, jagged tear right through me. Ofallthe times to not have a condom—
Wait.
I reach into my bra and fumble awkwardly, praying it’s still there, that I didn’t lose Steph’s silly gift, that—
