Page 14 of Passenger Princess

“Grumpy or not, I bet he’d be absolutely amazing in bed,” Jules says like she’s reading my mind. I shrug, handing her phone back even though I want to continue to stare at that screen indefinitely.

“I bet he would,” I say with a smile.

“You know, if this was a movie—” Jules starts, her common refrain, before Harper cuts her off.

“Jules, no. This is not a movie, this is reality.” Harper glares at me, pausing her packing. “Ava, you’re not allowed to date.”

I scrunch up my face in faux confusion. “You know, it’s so funny, because I don’t remember sayinganythingabout dating that man.”

Jules lets out another laugh before fist-pumping the air. “Yes! I say you fuck him into agood mood.”

“Jules! We’re supposed to be the voice of reason,” Harper chides, folding up a skirt. She’s used to our antics, though.

“I think I’m being reasonable! Sexual tension is bound to build the way sparks flew between you two.”

I think about how he looked down at me in the office, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips, just a few inches between us. The way his eyes moved to my lips before they shifted to my eyes. His quiet “Get home safe, princess”the night at the club.

Obviously, I’m reading too far into things, tearing apart tiny moments in time that don’t actually matter in the big picture.

“If by sexual tension you mean he’d like to leave me on a deserted island and never see me again, yes.”

“Bullshit.Everyoneloves you, Ava. You win literally everyone over. Why would he be any different?”

”Well, for one, I think he hates me.”

“Bullshit,” Jules says with a laugh, not believing me in the least. Fair, since I’m definitely exaggerating but…

“Okay, at the very least, he hates that hedoesn’thate me.” I shrug with a small smile playing on my lips, remembering the last words I said to him. “Maybe he hates that he wants into my pants.”

Silence takes over as Jules and Harper mull that over before Jules speaks with a shrug. “I mean, maybe, but we can work with that.”

“Jules!” I say with a laugh, throwing a makeup brush at her now.

“I’m just saying!”

We both continue in fits of giggles before it dies down and Harper, the logical one of us, speaks.

“Can I just ask why he would even hate you?” Harper asks, as confused as I feel. “He doesn’t even know you. “

“I don’t think hehatesme, per se,” I say, suddenly feeling like I have to come to his defense. “I just think he wants to do his job. He values…keeping the lines clear. He’s very professional, and there was tension between him and his boss. I don’t know. I think he just wants to do his job and move on.”

Jules snorts. “Then I wish him all the best, having to deal with you for three months.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask, throwing a pair of socks at her head.

She tucks it into my suitcase without even wavering before answering. “It means the lengths you will go to make someone your best friend are extreme.”

“Who, me?” I ask, hiding a smile.

They’re not wrong. But is itreallya crime to want people to like you?

“Fine, it’s not that I wanteveryone to like me.I simply love proving people wrong. Just because I look like an airhead doesn’t mean Iamone.”

“Well…” Harper says.

“Shutup, you guys are the worst,” I say with a laugh, and Harper laughs too. Taking another sip of my drink, I place it on the bedside table and fall back onto my bed with a groan. “I mean, why do I evenneeda bodyguard? Isn’t that a bit of overkill? It’s not like I’m a political figure or anyone important. I know they want to keep an eye on me, but can’tanyonedo that? I’m not Willa Stone or something, needing a security team.”

Harper and Jules take that moment to exchange a look, one I’m very familiar with. It’s thedo you want to tell our sweet, delusional friend the truth, or should I?

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