Page 31 of Billionaire Bachelor
Sylvie doesn’t keep me waiting long.
Sylvie:Um, DUH. You know damn well I’ve been waiting for all the spicy tea. Hudson’s here, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Noon at our usual spot?
I mentally calculate how long it’ll take me to get to the parking garage once the plane lands. Our favorite brunch spot is a café in Manhattan Beach, so it’s a quick drive from LAX.
Me:I should be able to make it by then. I’ll text you when I get to my car.
My thoughts won’t stop wandering during the flight. Memories from the weekend play on a loop in vivid detail. Logan’s laugh, theway his fingers laced with mine as we talked late into the night. Logan’s touch. His absurdly talented tongue. I can’t stop grinning like an idiot, and my cheeks feel like they’re on fire. If the expression on my seat neighbor’s face is anything to go by, I’m guessing I look a little crazed.
I try reading for a while, but considering I’m working through a brother’s best friend romance, it’s not exactly helping keep my mind off Logan. Its trope is a pure coincidence considering I started it on the plane ridetoReno, but I’m sure Freud would have a field day with the fact that at least a third of the books in my library have the same theme. I’m getting antsy, anxious to get everything off my chest with Sylvie, so when the city below comes into view, I breathe a sigh of relief.
Once we land, I flip off Airplane Mode and find another message from Logan already waiting.
Logan: You just spent the last two hours imagining me naked, didn’t you?
I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see me and send a quick reply.
Me:Nice try, but this little fishy still isn’t biting… (Just landed btw. We’re taxiing to the gate now.)
Logan: Glad you made it safely. (I’ll get you to admit it one of these days. )
Me: Meeting Sylvie for brunch on the way home. Do you want me to text you when I’m done?
Logan: You’d better.
I chuckle, unable to resist the urge to mess with him.
Me: And if I forget?
Logan:Oh, Pip. You really wanna go there?
Me: I’m sorry, I’m not following. I’ll need you to rephrase the question, please.
Logan: Sure. I can do that. Enjoy your brunch, Rosie. I know you’re dying to unload on your cousin, so have at it. But when you get home afterward, if you don’t text me, or better yet, FaceTime me, I’m going to hop on the next flight to LA, drive over to your place, strip you naked, and spank your ass until you’re dripping wet and begging me to fuck you. That clear enough for you?
Dear god.
Why is it so damn hot in this plane all of a sudden? I fan my flaming cheeks before typing my reply.
Me: Well, now you’re just tempting me to go radio silent.
Logan: Good to know.
I blink rapidly when I realize he’s texting me from the cabin.
Me: How are you texting me from a dead zone anyway?
Logan: Who said it was a dead zone?
Me: Uh…the zero bars on our phones said so.
Logan: YOUR phone may have had no reception. We must have different carriers because mine’s been fine this whole time.
My jaw drops.
Me: What?!
Logan: You didn’t put it together when I used my phone as a hotspot so we could watch Netflix?
