Page 47 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

"Yeah, this was in the beginning when all his capital was tied up in starting his company."

After all that Chase had done to me and now Aria, how did his scumminess still manage to surprise me? "What a dick. Complaining when someone else is buying him his dinner."

"I agree. That should have been a huge red flag for me." She shook her head. "I don't know why I just ignored it."

Before I could respond, the flight attendants came out with a big spread, a charcuterie board piled high with gourmet cheeses and artisanal cured meats, plus some fresh fruit, slices of baguette, and smoked salmon.

"Speaking of food," I said, taking note of Aria's wide-eyed expression.

"Wow," she gasped. "This looks incredible."

Having a billionaire for a dad and growing up the way she had, I was pretty damn sure she'd seen plenty of beautiful meals being served. But that was one of the things I was beginning to admire about her, that she still could appreciate this kind of thing and didn't act like everything was beneath her. She was more humble and down-to-earth than I would have ever expected.

I wanted to pick back up on the conversation we'd been having about Chase and his red flags, but watching her downright radiant face, I decided not to go back there. Aria was clearly in the moment, enjoying this pre-bedtime meal.

We'd already discussed the idea of sleeping during the long flight so we'd hopefully wake up at the end ready to start our morning in good old Paris.

Her enthusiasm for the meal was contagious, and yet again, I forgot about my fear of flying, more specifically the fact that we were now over the ocean and could plunge to our deaths any moment.

Instead, I kept my focus on Aria which wasn't hard to do, especially since she seemed to be on a roll with the nonstop chatter, now reminiscing about that family trip to Paris. She spoke so fondly about them, it made me wonder more about them all.

I knew who her father was, of course, Alexander Stratton, rich as fuck lawyer who was known to be ruthless yet respected, with a client list that read like a who's who of Fortune 500 companies. But I didn't know much about her sisters who seemed to be super close to her. They hadn't seemed to capture the attention of the gossip rags as much as Aria had for some reason.

Listening to Aria talk about her childhood travels, I couldn't help feeling a pang of envy deep in my gut. It was such a stark contrast from my own upbringing with an asshole of an uncle and his family who never failed to remind me that they were doing me a great favor by taking me in. I'd been treated like an outsider by my own damn relatives.

Aria sat back in her large seat and sighed. "I can't eat another bite. And I'm exhausted." She stretched her arms over her head, yawning.

The flight attendants cleared away our empty plates, and we made our way to the back of the plane, ready to prepare for bed and catch some much-needed sleep.

We soon settled into our makeshift beds on the private jet, two beds pushed together with a large gap in between them.

"Well, this is cozy," I joked.

Aria let out a giggle, her eyes sparkling in the dim light of the cabin as she sat gingerly on her half of the bed. "Yeah, cozy is one word for it. I feel like I'm a kid again in the car with one of my sisters. Like don't you dare cross this line."

I smiled, shifting to get comfortable on my side of the bed. "Yeah, don't you dare cross that line. And I'm going to do my best not to fall through the crack in the middle of the night."

We shared a moment of laughter as we settled into our beds, the rhythmic hum of the engines filling the air. My mind drifting to what we'd been talking about earlier, I stared at the ceiling of the plane, not tired at all, buzzing with restless energy.

Great, the fucking insomnia. Why would tonight be any different though?

I tried all the tricks but nothing worked. All I could hear was the relentless ticking of a clock in my head, the seconds passing by, almost mocking me with the wasted time not sleeping.

Over the noise of the plane, I could hear Aria tossing and turning, her annoyed sigh as she tried to plump up her pillow, making me smile to myself. So I wasn't alone in my misery.

It was fucking weird to realize that... the fact that I wasn't alone. I'd been alone forever, something I preferred actually, something I actively cultivated for so long that it was odd not to be.

But right now? I found I didn't mind the company. And along with that realization came something else, a curiosity to know more about this woman.

"I can't sleep," she grumbled.

"Me neither."

"So talk to me then. Lull me to sleep. Tell me all your deepest, darkest secrets," she said in a teasing voice.

I laughed quietly. "So what's your family like?" I asked, not so subtly completely dodging her request.

"Nice change of topics. But I'll indulge you," Aria joked. "Where on earth do I start? You might have heard of my sisters. The three of us couldn't be any more different. Astrid, the baby in the family, is the absolute sweetest. She's a fashion designer, well, aspiring, and she focuses on plus sizes because that's her passion. She hasn't had the easiest time of it though."

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