Page 27 of Forbidden Game

It’s September. There hasn’t been a snowstorm in Colorado in September in years. Literal years. But of course, the one weekend we need to fly there, there’s a snowstorm. Just our luck.

I blame climate change.

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll just…wait.”

The woman gives me a tight smile before returning back to the computer before her.

I purse my lips and take a deep breath through my nose. I hold it for a few seconds before letting out a loud sigh.

It’s fine. Everything will be fine.

Parker has his head down, still distracted by the game he’s been playing since the second we made it through TSA. Honestly, I was impressed that he never bumped into anyone on the walk to the gate. Then again, all the guys have multitasking down to a T.

My eyes dip briefly to his crotch, and I all but pinch myself.

“How long until we board?” he asks when I slump into the seat next to him.

I grimace as I try to come up with an answer I don’t have. “Uh, there’s a slight delay, so we have at least an hour or so.”

Parker pauses his game and furrows his brows at me. “That long?”

“Yeah. Roughly.”

He shoves his phone in his pocket and stands up, holding his hand out to me. His icy blue eyes spear straight into my soul as I look up at him before taking his hand. He tugs me alongside him while steering our luggage with his other hand. Heat travels through my palm, up my arm, and into my chest.

Sweat beads on my skin.

I must be wearing too many layers.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“The lounge.” He winks back at me.

Parker doesn’t even need to look where he’s headed because people move out of the way for him automatically.

A few minutes later, he leads us to a set of glazed doors. There is a long line of people who seem to be waiting to enter, but Parker pays them no mind as he strolls right by them.

An employee holds out their hand just as the doors slide open.

“I’m sorry, sir. You need to wait in line. The lounge is currently full.”

Parker side-eyes the line of people for a beat before slowly blinking back. He then reaches into his back pocket and slides a card out of his wallet, flashing it at the employee. They squint at the emerald-green card momentarily before their eyes widen and they move aside with a flourish of their hand.

“Apologies,” they mutter.

Parker lets out a soft huff before walking past them. When we get to the counter inside, Parker flashes the card again to the three employees behind the counter who are checking people in. The tall woman in the middle immediately straightens her back as she takes Parker’s card and swipes it before taking his phone to scan his boarding pass. She returns his phone and the shiny card with a million-watt smile.

“Mr. Covington, welcome to the Imperial Lounge. I see you’re flying to Denver today. The flight appears to currently be delayed, and I don’t have an estimated hour of departure at this time. Please feel free to use all our amenities, and I’ll send someone to find you once there is an update on your flight.” She gestures around the corner to an escalator. “If you take a right at the top, you’ll see the doors to our Emerald Elite Lounge. We hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you, Marigold.”

The woman’s smile stretches an inch wider, and I worry it might split. He’s not a mind reader; her name is printed on her name tag.

Parker takes my hand and guides me up the escalators. My eyes immediately begin to scan our surroundings. There is a large seating area to our left where people are snacking on little plates of tapas and tapping away on their devices. They’re all engrossed in their own world, and everything is generally quiet despite it being completely packed. It’s a little disconcerting.

I make note of the signs on the wall that explain which way the bathrooms, buffet station, bar, and children’s entertainment area are.

Children’s entertainment area?

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