Already getting comfy with me, Mr. Voss?
“Sure am. Oh, and pro tip?” He tilts his head in response. “No hair pulling unless you plan to fuck me after. It’s one of my kinks, and I’m not sure doing it here would be very appropriate.” I wink.
If panic could talk, Easton would be an experienced auctioneer.
“Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“Relax,” I giggle. “It’s a joke. And in case you didn’t notice, I’m very forward. Sorry in advance if it’s ever too much for you. Please don’t take that as me saying I’ll stop because I won’t. But you get my point.”
He stills for a moment, refusing to show another side to him but seriousness. “Take it from me—dimming yourself for someone else is fucking pointless. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Red flag.Or maybe green? I still need to figure that one out.
“Anyway,” he changes the subject as first class begins boarding. “You should probably tell me your name.”
“Oh, yeah. Smart thinking on your part. Just in case I kill you in your sleep. You gotta have some ammunition in your pocket.” I laugh and still can’t register if he finds me funny or neurotic. “It’s Collie. Collie Meadows.”
Easton nods silently before handing me my ticket. “Let’s switch out your name and get ready to board, Collie Meadows. Gotta make sure they get your luggage on the right plane.”
“Sounds good,” I tell him. Seems simple enough. But the wordswitchtriggers something in my need to be nosy. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I glance down at theticket in my hands, reading the words of the absent passenger once attending this little trip with Easton.
Sydney Summers.
Was this his…?
I don’t even know what to do with this new information. But my initial judgement was correct. He’s a walking question mark, and I’m pretty sure intrigued is not how I should be feeling right now.
I’m the stand-in for what seems to be a broken love affair.
And I’m too invested to back out now.
One thing is for sure: I intend to uncover much more than I’d bet Easton is prepared to spill.
6
EASTON
“At what pointwere you gonna tell me you have a fear of flying?”
“Figured I’d let you find that out when I make proper use of this barf bag.” Collie holds up the disastrous flying aid in front of me.
My face must say it all because she barks out a laugh, her small frame lurching forward in hysterics. “You should see your face right now!”
We’re not off to a great start…
Or should I say…I’m not?
The fact that she can be so carefree in the presence of a stranger should be alarming. But then again, I invited said stranger, and I now have to follow through with my decision.
At least once we get to the cabin—I’m hoping there’s a cabin—we’ll have our separate quarters. Give us a little bit of space to get acclimated.
I sound like a bear prepping for hibernation.
“Do I really need to prepare for you to puke?” I groan.
Collie shrugs. “When in doubt, prepare for the worst!” she chants over the flight attendant’s safety briefing.
“Ma’am, please secure your seat belt for take-off,” the kind attendant tells Collie, suddenly standing beside us.
