Page 51 of The Book Signing

I had all this energy and frustration that I took out on writing it, and in the end, I accomplished what I set out to do. It did better than I expected.

Except as I do my best to plot, I’m getting hideous writer’s block. Maybe it’s because my brain is full of chaos and has Jaxon’s name all over it.

Things started out fine, and then I had to go and get myself involved with him.

The excitement of feeling wanted after a long time of being alone was a welcome relief. I’d missed that feeling of fulfillment, not in my job, but with a man who wanted me, and one that I didn’t give myself over to straight away.

But even though I didn’t fall straight into the pattern of sleeping together on the first night, I got wrapped up in his charm and fell into bed with him in the end.

I rub my head, frustrated with my heart and brain, both driving me nuts. I need to shut off.

Closing my laptop–a little harder than I should–I put on my eye mask and do my best to force myself into falling asleep.

Despite a couple of people chatting away and a father trying to hush his baby, the quietness of the plane calms me.

I close my eyes harder, trying to concentrate on sleep. Not concentrating on Jaxon’s amazing body.His fine-looking ass I saw on the first morning, or the tattoo that he still didn’t elaborate on. Or his mesmerizing eyes that were filled with desire and want when he looked at me, and not just on the one occasion we had that night. Then to his genuine pride for me when it came to my hair color. Keeping it after everything it stands for. What it means to him, despite that fact, I barely know him. That he barely knew me.

He started out a little cocky, and damn, I hated how he teased me, but then turned into a nice guy. Like I slowly stripped layers as I got to know him.

Shame he turned into a dick in the end.

Two hours later, I wake up from a jostle; the plane hitting some turbulence. Once it settles down, I no longer find sleep possible. I flag down a steward and ask for some orange juice and a bottle of water, to which they nod and deliver.

Finding some mental energy, I open my laptop and my fingers take a life of their own as they type Jaxon Sunter’s Author into the search bar.The immediate response I get is images of his books, and a snippet of news about him going to Australia, and even a picture or two of him. I go to images and scroll through the page, wondering if I would find him in hundreds of pictures with hot legged models on his arm.

Of course, I do.

I try to get past the ladies attached to him and instead focus my eyes on Jaxon. Topless, with black board shorts and his familiar, tanned six pack. I notice the blue cap with the logo of my favorite baseball team and that brings a small smile, even though this is not the time to be happy. No, I’m on a mission.

When I see the next image, my jaw drops.

Am I seeing double vision?

I rub my eyes and look again. Nope. That is definitely two Jaxon’s standing beside each other. One of them with his arm wrapped around a shoulder, grinning at the camera. The only difference is that one is slightly taller, and the other is wearing a black cap.

I continue scrolling down and find another image, and zero in on the two Jaxon’s again. This time, one is standing whilst the other leans over the table, signing a book. The man is wearing a white-collared shirt and dark jeans, and sunglasses sitting on the top of his head.

I scrunch my eyebrows as I lean in to focus on the image again and see it’s linked to his social media account and notice the time stamp was only two days ago.

How much did that bastard really hide from me?

Another bump of the plane and my angered thoughts get interrupted. I shut the laptop, just as the lady beside me yawns loudly and hits me as she stretches her arms.

“And this is why I wish I bought myself a business class ticket,” I mutter to myself, unable to control it. The lady must have heard me since she turns and gives me a snarly look.

Whoops.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

JAXON

A gentle nudge on my arm awakens me from the second flight. The layover at Denver. My eyelids flutter open as I hear a soothing voice.

“We’re getting ready for touchdown into Chicago International Airport. Please ensure your belongings are stored away.”

I yawn, stretching in the minimal room I have, thanks to Greg’s economy purchase over the requested premium economy. It’s not that I need it, just some extra room for my height helps. I quickly set aside my remaining trash, seeing that I sleptthrough the cleaning up part of the flight. Then I shove my laptop into my bag and double check I cleaned up and left nothing behind. After losing my headphones and my designer glasses, I do my best to learn from my mistakes. Although nowadays, my phone and laptop seem to take priority.

It takes around twenty minutes until it’s our turn to leave the plane, and when I finally start moving, it’s at a snail’s pace. As I get closer to the exit, I notice something pink at the front of the plane.

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