Page 14 of Come Fly with Me

“What time?” I ask without preamble, without a moment’s hesitation.

“Seven?”

I don’t have a chance to answer because, in that second, a car pulls up and out comes a few of the flight attendants from our plane and some guys they’ve obviously picked up. But that doesn’t stop them from blatantly hitting on Jake. I don’t turn around to take in the scene that’s now unfolding and as I’m entering the hotel, I catch, “Were you just with Taylor Patterson?” There’s simplicity to the question, but I don’t miss the snide tone that’s hidden below the surface. “People say she’s the reason they call it the Friendly Skies.”

There’s a laugh, one that doesn’t come from Jake, but it doesn’t matter. He now thinks he’s just another guy in a long list that came before him.

Before him…

I’m not one to wait around wondering what else will be said, what other judgments will be made. While I’ve always enjoyed the company of the flight crew, girls can be petty, and I’ve met my fair share. It doesn’t matter what I’ve accomplished or what my title is or that I’ve turned over a new leaf; my reputation holds firm.

So I don’t hang around to see what more is said. I just walk into the hotel and up to the front desk to check in, but damn me because as the woman at the desk is locating my reservation, my eyes wander to where Jake is still standing and chatting with the flight attendants. And now I’m left filling in the missing pieces on my own.

Even though it’s not late, only a little past eight, I take my key and head to my room with the intention of hiding out there until morning.

It’s your typical hotel room: king-size bed, small desk, flat-screen TV, and a bathroom. I toss my bag onto the desk and flip on the TV, but after about ten seconds of flipping I find nothing, and boredom is already beginning to set in.

In the past, I would’ve hit the hotel bar, but I’m not really up for company, so I head to the one place I know I won’t encounter anyone I know.

The hotel gym.

I walk in, and find it empty which is unsurprising given the hour, so I put in my earbuds and hop on the treadmill.

I’m about thirty minutes into my ten-mile run when the door swings open and in walks Jake with that perfectly cocky smile on his face, all straight white teeth and dimples.

I yank one of the earbuds from my ear and shoot him a filthy look. “Are you stalking me?”

“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“In most places, it is,” I quip back, this playful banter making it hard to concentrate on my run.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, motioning to the treadmill next to mine.

“If I said yes, would you leave?” My head is cocked to the side as I await his answer, my run slowing to a jog.

“You wouldn’t mean it though.”

He hops on next to me and takes a look at what the digital display on my treadmill is set to and sets his one higher.

I close my eyes and shake my head as I begin my run again with Jake picking up speed next to me.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I tell him, as I watch him run effortlessly, his form impeccable, every muscle in his body flexing, and the room suddenly feels a hell of a lot warmer than it did just five minutes ago. Why does he have the body of an Olympic swimmer with the mind of the devil?

“A little wager,” he says, slowing to a jog next to me, but I shake my head and continue running.

“I already played your game today,” I say, cutting him off, but my breathing has grown labored and it’s not due to the running.

“And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a great time.”

“Fine. What’s the wager?”

What am I getting myself into?

“For every mile I run faster than you, you have to…”

Again, I cut him off. “If this is about sexual favors you can keep on running until you find someone else.”

He laughs, his head falling back, but when he looks over at me, his deep green eyes pinning me in their gaze, I practically shoot off the back of the treadmill.

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