Page 25

Taking Off

Abi

It’s impossible to believe people actually live this way.

I looked around the luxury hangar and had a hard time believing this was in any way, shape, or form related to the airplane travel I remembered.

While normal people stood in security lines with donut-shaped pillows strapped around their necks and sat in crowded terminals, the privileged hung out here ?

Unbelievable.

The Monk Aviation hangar was ridiculously cool.

It had tall ceilings, shiny floors, and a wide-open warehouse feel that was the polar opposite of modern air travel spaces.

The furnishings were all next level, sleek and modern and actually comfortable, and I swear to God there wasn’t a speck of dust or piece of trash anywhere in this place.

Tables had been brought in for the brunch—tables that were covered in food. A huge buffet was laid out, but not the kind of buffet I was familiar with in my life. There were no sneeze guards dangling down in front of aluminum trays filled with precooked scrambled eggs and questionable bacon.

No, this was a carefully curated collection of exquisite breakfast foods.

A crepe station (manned by a chef, of course), gorgeous pastries heaped upon gleaming silver trays, a full-service bar, and a man in a big white hat carving prime rib—this was the shit.

And the second we walked in, we were approached by many familiar faces.

There was Warren, and Dex’s parents, and I could see all his fellow vice presidents wandering around, socializing with the elite shareholders who all looked like they were on golf vacations and preparing to return home to their mansions of choice.

“I think we should get some prime rib before we do anything else,” I said, sliding my arm through Declan’s and pointing toward the buffet. “All of your people are going to keep you busy, so you deserve some delicious meat first, don’t you think?”

“So you’re hungry?” he asked, glancing down at me with a smirk on his mouth, that mouth that was such a distraction now that I knew what it was capable of.

“No, I’m a good girlfriend and I think you need to eat. I mean, that’s kind of my love language, making sure that my man is well-fed.”

“Really?” He narrowed his eyes and looked at me like he wanted to figure me out, like he was trying to see more. I loved that look. It was intimate and made it feel like he actually appreciated the real me. “That doesn’t seem like it would be your love language.”

“Sure it is,” I replied, lowering my voice. “I think I know how to make three dishes, maybe even four, so I’m going to make some man really lucky someday.”

“Name the three dishes,” he said, grinning.

“Okay, maybe two,” I said, thinking through the things that I made when I felt like preparing something not from my freezer. “I make killer spaghetti and meatballs, I slay goulash, and I also make a really great pepperoni casserole.”

“So you only make pasta,” he said around a laugh, and I was a big fan of the way his eyes got squinty when he genuinely smiled.

“Yeah, I only make pasta,” I agreed. “Although I also make a really good Crock-Pot beef roast, too.”

“Isn’t that just dropping meat into a pot and hitting the power button?”

“I drop it really well , though.”

“Fine,” he said, his smile simmering down to just the slightest curve. “Let’s go get my girl some meat.”

We were just playing, I knew, but there was something about this indulgent side of him, when he gave me a look that meant he was going along with what I wanted, that was unbelievably charming.

It was so out of character for the all-business, vice presidential version of Declan that it almost skewed romantic.

He was a control freak boss who ruled everything, so the times that I wore the pants felt really fucking delightful.

We went over to the buffet, and I entertained myself by putting food on his plate that I knew he didn’t want. It felt very girlfriendy to say things like “Oh you need to try the crepes,” even though I’d already seen him eat three whole-wheat bagels after the 5K so I knew he couldn’t be very hungry.

But I liked the way it made his lips quirk, like he was trying not to laugh every time I plopped something unwanted on his plate.

“I should make you eat everything you’re loading up,” he said quietly, out of the corner of his mouth, as we walked over to a tall table.

“But it would look very unladylike for me to eat that much,” I said sarcastically. “Although you’re probably watching your figure and won’t eat anything I put on your plate, anyway.”

“Oh, I think you’re the one who’s been watching my figure,” he teased.

“No, I’m not,” I squealed, cringing at how much I sounded like a middle schooler. “I walked into your closet and you were half-naked; I had no choice but to look at your chest.”

“Honey, I didn’t say anything about that,” he said quietly, a sexy smirk on his mouth. “I was just joking, but apparently your brain is still on my chest in the closet yesterday.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I proceeded to cut into my prime rib and stuff my mouth, which made him laugh.

After eating we made the rounds, and it was actually pretty nice. I’d started to come around to a lot of Declan’s co-workers; I still thought they were pretentious and privileged, but I appreciated the kindness they showed me.

It was scary how much I felt like Daphne in the story I’d just started drafting. I was getting sucked into these people and their lives surprisingly quickly, my disdain morphing into something…warmer and less judgy.

I still rolled my eyes inwardly at the designer shoes and expensive handbags, but I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed the friendliness that came from their owners.

Throughout the course of the brunch, there was a steady stream of departures. There was a bag-check counter by the doors, and with a simple wave to the attendant, travelers had their luggage whisked away before they disappeared out the door.

Even as I watched the crowd gradually diminish, for some reason I wasn’t prepared for it to be Dex’s turn.

“Hey,” he said, leaning down to speak into my ear. “It’s about time for me to go catch my flight.”

I looked to his left and realized the shuttle driver was standing behind him, waiting to take him to the main terminal.

The plan was for me to drive his car back to his apartment, which I was so geeked out about doing, and a shuttle driver was going to take him over to the commercial terminal at Eppley.

“You have to go already?” I said, absolutely not acting. I’d been having a great time with him and found that I didn’t want him to leave. It was nothing big, no emotional thing to overthink, but I liked him.

“I do,” he said, looking at me with something in his eyes that kind of felt like regret.

And I don’t know if it was a boldness born from pretending all day, or the fact that I felt so much closer to him since he’d taken care of me earlier, but I knew exactly what I was going to do.

“Well, let me walk you out to the shuttle,” I said, giving him a look.

He must’ve understood, because he gave me a wink. “Let’s go.”

I held his hand and walked with him, which was kind of ridiculous when it was literally parked on the other side of the big glass windows, but I didn’t care.

As soon as we were outside and next to the black SUV, I threw my arms around him as if he was actually my boyfriend and he was leaving me to go on a trip. He hugged me back, that big body wrapped around me as his woodsy scent found my nose, and I said, “Safe travels.”

I set my hands on his cheeks and pulled his mouth down to mine, giving him the kind of kiss that I knew would be appreciated by any onlookers who might be watching from inside the terminal.

A simple press of our mouths together.

Once again, I was attempting a normal couple’s kiss.

And once again, I failed.

Because I stopped thinking about kisses and terminals and actual words the second he started kissing me back.

Damn , the way that man kissed.

His mouth opened over mine and his arms tightened around my body and he kissed me like he didn’t want to leave me. I felt it in the backs of my knees when his tongue stroked over mine, I felt it in the center of my body when his teeth dragged over my bottom lip.

And I felt it everywhere when he made a noise in the back of his throat that told me he wished we were alone.

It was the throat clearing of the shuttle driver that brought me back, that made me remember who I was, where we were, and who I was with.

Declan pulled back and looked down at me, his eyes hot.

“You make it really hard to leave, Abi Green,” he said with a little smirk.

“You make it really hard to let you go, Declan Powell,” I said back, reaching up to wipe my lipstick off his lips. “Text me when you get there so I know you landed safely.”

“You know no one is out here but us, right?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

I pressed my lips together and admitted, “I know, but still text me when you get there so I know you made it, okay?”

He swallowed and gave a nod. “I will.”

Then he turned and got into the shuttle.

Goodbye, Declan.

I stood there, wondering what the hell was wrong with me that I knew I was going to miss him. Instead of going back inside the fancy hangar and making small talk and saying goodbye to people I would never see again, I just went straight to Declan’s car on the other side of the building.

It didn’t make sense, the way I felt so emotional, but I wasn’t going to overthink it. The bottom line was that I was still getting paid a fortune, and now I got to drive a fancy car to the fancy apartment where I was staying till Friday.

Any emotion about Declan’s leaving was just silly and I needed to stop thinking about him and remember who I was and what the reality of our situation was.

But that was pretty impossible when, as soon as I got back to the apartment, I immediately got a text from him.