Page 7 of Falling For The Billionaire Rockstar

I shook the thought off. “I’m listening.”

“Good. Head to the airport immediately after this call and find the MM2 terminal. I’ll be in the waiting area, sitting alone and dressed in a gray suit.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “That’s all? Gray suit, sitting alone?”

“What other description do you need?”

“Look, I don’t know, but what you gave is pretty vague, okay?”

“I’m about six foot two with blond hair. May I remind you that I don’t have the time to go into details about my appearance?”

“Fine then. I’ll just call you when I get there.”

“After this call, I’m going to need you to delete my number and all call logs and throw the phone through your window.” The line went flat before I could even respond.

I let out a heavy sigh as I grabbed my suitcase and walked out of my house.

Goodbye, New York.

***

My Uber pulled up in front of the airport, and I got off quickly, walking to the trunk and pulling out my suitcase before slamming the lid and rushing into the airport.

I hated being unable to contact him. My mind was a foggy mess, and I was hellbent on getting the fuck out of town. The main lobby was filled with people and chatter, the noise making it even harder for me to think.

I looked up at the signboards that held the terminals on them, and my mind immediately went blank.

“Fuck.”

My eyes fell on one of the signboards that had MM2 written boldly on it. I tilted my head to the side as I studied the signboard while trying to replay the agent’s instructions in my head.

I’d been so focused on what he’d looked like that I didn’t pay attention to the information he’d given me before that. Shaking my head and heaving a sigh, my fingers tightened around the handle of my suitcase as I headed for MM2.

I was grateful when I walked in and found the waiting area a little scanty—a few families clustered together on different seats, some couples. But only one man sat alone, and he was wearing a gray suit.

I sighed in relief as I made a beeline toward him. He looked up, and I was able to catch the features of his side profile. He sat cross-legged with a briefcase on the chair next to him.

He looked about the height, and his blond hair was gelled neatly. His suit looked expensive, and light glistened at the edge of his polished shoe. Either he was really good at his job or just doing this for fun. Rich people always have weird hobbies.

My mind flashed to Greg. He was hot on my tail, and I didn’t have time to question the reason for this man’s choice of occupation.

Finally, the man looked at me, and his eyes brightened as he got to his feet and offered me a warm smile. My heart stopped, and there was suddenly not enough air in the building.

His fine green eyes reminded me of the emerald bracelet Sam had gotten me as an engagement present. His fair skin appeared untouched by the sun, and his lips, which were small and pink, seemed begging me to bite them.

He moved with such grace as if he owned the fucking airport. With each step toward me, I found it even harder to breathe.

I shook the thought off immediately as I remembered the first day I met Greg, who charmed me in a similar way. In the end, it seemed that was all men were: good looks and graceful features.

Despite his unyielding smile, which didn’t waver as he approached, revealing a set of perfect white teeth, I didn’t reciprocate. He walked toward me, and as he finally stopped, he stretched out his hands.

“You’re a little late. It’s nice to meet you.”

I fought back the impact of his voice on me. It wasn’t that hard when I considered what he’d said. While I was the one who had made the impromptu change of arrangements, saying I was late when he had called me literally five minutes ago was just insane.

“Is that it?” I asked, ignoring his outstretched arm and gesturing toward the suitcase in his other hand.

His smile finally faltered as he looked around and withdrew his hand. “Is thiswhat?” His voice, less friendly now, still retained its impactful effect, albeit stronger.

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