“Why were you askin’ after my background, then, love? You got somethin’ that needs fixin’?”
CHAPTER2
Kayla
Okay,even I couldn’t deny that sexual innuendo.
“No, I don’t have anything that needs…” Forget my cheeks. My entire face was burning now. “I wasn’t trying to… I was honestly just asking because, quite frankly, I don’t belong here. I won this trip, you see. And since you appear… appear to not belong here, either, I was just wondering about your background. That’s all.”
He dragged his eyes up and down my face, obviously not convinced.
Then he just stared at me in a way that felt like getting completely dissected. But for the life of me, I couldn’t bring myself to look away from his black gaze.
Luckily, the flight attendant chose that moment to reappear with more champagne. This time on a tray filled with flutes for everyone.
The stranger in 1B shifted his intense gaze away from me to accept another glass of bubbly from the flight attendant, and I could finally breathe again. Honestly, it felt like getting released from some kind of hypnotic trance.
“Yay, more champagne!” Trying to shake off the feeling that 1B had just straight-up stared into my soul, I all but snatched the flute of liquid courage from the attendant.
However, this time, instead of knocking back the alcohol, I leveled my voice and my rampaging thoughts enough to say, “Cheers. I’m Kayla, by the way.”
Another long pause. Then: “You can call me Mick.” He clinked his plastic flute against mine. “And yeah, cheers. Here’s to movin’ on.”
I took a sip, but then had to ask, “Moving on?”
“That’s what you’re doin’, right?” He leveled that direct gaze of his on me again. “Movin’ on from the last guy? Why else would you be cryin’ into your window if you don’t bloody hate planes like meself.”
I hesitated. The smart, practical payroll administrator inside of me was sending up all sorts of warning flares about getting too personal with some guy I'd just met on a plane.
But why not?I thought. The champagne felt nice and warm in my stomach, and I’d probably never see Mick again after the plane landed.
“Something like that,” I admitted. “I was stupid enough to date a football player.”
He regarded me with a confused squint. “You say you were datin’ a football player, then?”
And I remembered, “Oh, you guys call soccer football. I forgot. I meant I was stupid enough to date anAmericanfootball player. Do you know anything about American football?”
“Only that I’m bollocks at it,” he answered.
“Well, I work as a payroll administrator for this American football team called the Los Angeles Suns.”
Again with that up-and-down look. “You don’t look like any money person I ever met. Guy who does up the money where I work has a pocket protector and a terrible hairpiece. Looks like a raccoon decided to make his final home up there. Know what I mean?”
I laughed. “We have a guy that looks exactly like that in our payroll office, too! It’s actually a pretty unglamorous job. The only difference between our office and yours is that fifty-three of the employees we cut checks for happen to be football players. That’s how I met my ex.”
“The wanker who made you cry.” His expression tightened in a way that reminded me of the old Clint Eastwood Westerns my dad loved to watch.
“Yeah, the wanker who made me cry.” I couldn’t help but laugh again.
“You said you won this trip to Paris.” His expression softened. “Let me guess, it was a trip for two, and I took his seat. That was why you were cryin’, right? Not because you were given the grand prize of gettin’ to sit next to me for an hour plus.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or ask him if he was being serious about assuming a grown woman would burst into overwhelmed tears just because he’d sat down next to her. Like, had that actually happened to him?
Though, if we’re keeping it real, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the answer to that question was yes. He’d only flirted with me a little, and I could barely keep it together. Imagine how someone—anyone from a less glamorous city than L.A.—
would have felt.
In the end, I decided to just answer Mick’s question honestly. “No, it wasn’t because of you. I don’t even know you. But I was with my ex for four years. I thought we’d take this trip, and he’d finally propose….”
