Freezing, I look around, curious to see which unlucky bastard is getting chewed out, when I spot a gorgeous little blonde in a short blue sundress storming toward me, a pair of oversized sunglasses perched on her head and her eyes flashing emerald fire. Green… my favorite color. Same as my bag and my ribbon. For a moment, I just stare at her, stunned by both her beauty and her temper. The next moment, though, I recognize who she is… and my stomach drops.
Oh, shit.Her.
I’ve dealt with this little spitfire before. The last time I saw her, the Night Hawks — the hockey team I play for — had been in Nashville for an away game, and I’d gone to see my family afterward before meeting back up with the rest of the team in a downtown bar. I’d rolled up there expecting to have a relaxing night celebrating our win, but at almost the exact moment I walked through the door, this little troublemaker — this same green-eyed girl — had run into me, shitfaced, and proceeded to puke right onto me, then walked away without a care in the world.
I haven’t forgotten her.
This woman has haunted my nightmares ever since.
RyleeFuckingBenson.
At least she appears sober this time. I guess she’s running late for the wedding, too. Pretty sure she’s a bridesmaid. She comes to a stop in front of me and points at my bag.
“That’s mine, asshole,” she snaps, glaring up at me.
I open my mouth to say, “It’s you… ” but before I can get a word in edgewise, she lays into me.
“Are you out of your mind? I don’t know who you think you are, buddy, other than a luggage thief, but if you don’t let go of my suitcase, I’m calling the cops!”
Frowning, I blink as I try to make sense of her words and shake my head. Okaaay… clearly, she doesn’t recognize me, but I suppose that makes sense since she was so shitfaced the last time we met. I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about regarding my bag, though.
“Um, what are you talking about? This is my luggage. Look at the ribbon.”
I point, and her eyes drop to the green ribbon wrapped around the handle. She looks back up at me, scoffs, and rolls her eyes, irritation practically pulsing from her.
“Please, like you’re going to convince me with a stupid bow.” She wags her finger. “You put it on there yourself. Is this your scam? Put fucking ribbons on the luggage you’re trying to jack so people don’t believe the bags are theirs? Well, news flash, bucko! That stupid trick isn’t going to work on me! Now give me my bag. I’m in a hurry and have somewhere important to be.”
Jesus Christ, this is only the second time I’ve met this woman… and I think I preferred when she was puking on me. I know my friends love her, but she seems absolutely insane to me.
“I’m not trying to trick you!” I take a deep breath and struggle to keep my cool. “Look, this is my bag, okay? Yours must just look like mine. It happens, and it’s no big deal… ”
“Open it.”
My eyes go wide. “Excuse me?”
She crosses her arms, which amplifies her generous cleavage. I can’t help sneaking a look before forcing my gaze back to hers so she doesn’t accuse me of being a perv, as well as a thief.
“Open the bag,” she demands. “Show me what’s inside.”
“I’m not going to do that,” I reply.
“Why? Because you’re trying not to get caught?”
Sighing, I answer, “No, because I’m not super keen on showing off my underwear to an airport full of strangers.”
She grins, her eyes flashing triumphantly. “No? Well, I’ll just call over a security guard and have them open it instead.” Turning, she starts looking through the crowd, and I know she’s not bluffing.
“Fine!” I groan, laying the suitcase down on the floor. “If this is the only way to get you off my back, I’ll open the damn thing.”
Rylee turns back to me and puts her hands on her hips, gazing down expectantly as I squat and unzip the bag. Her arrogant smirk fades at the sight of my clothes folded neatly inside.
“See?” I wave my hand over the open suitcase. “Mine.”
“The fuck it is,” she snaps, dropping to her knees next to me. Before I can stop her, she starts rummaging through my stuff.
“What the hell are you doing?” My anger bursts inside me as I stare down at this crazy woman in shock.
She shoots me a glare. “How’d you get your stuff in here? You have connections with airport staff? Is this some sort of luggage-stealing crime ring?”
