“How long is the flight to Vancouver?”
“Just over five hours,” I answer.
Five hours of uninterrupted time with Zoe where she can’t escape me, no matter how much she might want to.
9
ZOE
Five whole hours stuck on a plane with people I barely know.
Fantastic.
Scratch that, not just people, hockey players. Famous, professional hockey players with unlimited charm and sex appeal. How am I not supposed to want to jump out of this plane?
Sitting next to Dominik right now feels suffocating for many reasons, despite it being the ultimate fantasy for most women. I steal a glance at him, finding his presence both overwhelming and magnetic. His perfectly chiseled features and intense gaze make it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. His mere existence leaves me feeling vulnerable and exposed. Dominik is determined to dismantle the carefully constructed walls I’ve spent years building around myself, and the power he holds over me makes me want to rage. I hate that I’ve lost control.
I shouldn’t have come here. It wasn’t part of my plan, but as I paced my room, anxiously checking the time and biting my nails, I felt compelled to go. In the end, I hastily threw some things into an overnight bag and called George, asking him to help me find a taxi. I couldn’t resist the urge, even though I tried.
What is happening to me?
What happened to being mad at him?
But all those notes…his scribbles and thoughts in all those books.
He read the books.
What if he hired a professional romancer to do it? He’s crazy enough for that.
But why? What do you have to offer for him to want you this much? You’re a lost cause. A piece of shit. No one wants you, least of all Dominik.
Unfortunately for me, I agree with the voices in my head this time.
“Did you even crack open the books, or did you just throw everything in the garbage?”
Glancing down at my watch, I realize there is no way I’m going to dodge this uncomfortable conversation with him. We have four hours and forty-eight minutes left.
Fuck my life.
“I opened them,” I say, fidgeting with my ring.
Dominik remains silent for quite some time, and as I glance up, I notice his furrowed brows and intense gaze fixed on the digital map displayed on the seat in front of us. His eyes are locked onto the minuscule plane icon, seemingly motionless, despite the fact that we still have a considerable distance left to go.
“And you didn’t message me? There were no burning thoughts you wanted to talk about? Maybe even yell at me a little?” He turns, pinning me instantly with those eyes.
I wanted to talk to him about all of it. To tell him I finally caved and went through every single page in those books. I stayed up all night and read through the notes he had onThe Sorrow of Young Werther. I couldn’t believe how much I related to it.
I wanted to express to him that with every page turned and with every word read, I felt seen. As if it was safe to hide amongst his thoughts, like I finally belonged somewhere.
But I won’t be saying any of that.
“Did you pay someone to read every book and make comments?”
He shifts, turning to face me. His face looming inches away from mine. I instinctively lean back, feeling the side of the plane pressing against my back. The flight crew dimmed the cabin lights some time ago, and I quickly glance past Dominik, hoping no one notices his intimidating presence above me. To my relief, it seems everyone is either preoccupied or fast asleep. Darkness envelops us.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he grits out.
Pressing my lips together, I shrug. “It just seemed all too deep and rehearsed. Fake, much like the way we are.” I point my pointer finger back and forth between us.
