Page 68 of Forty, Flirty & F*cked

Instead I nod. “Yes."

And Connor’s smile is worth every broken rule.

Twenty minutes and several knowing looks from my family later, we're walking toward what appears to be a very sleek, very expensive helicopter waiting in a nearby park.

"Show-off," I mutter, but I can't help grinning.

Connor just smirks, offering me his hand as I step up onto the skids and into the plush leather interior. The scent of polished wood and expensive cologne fills the cabin, mingling with the crisp night air seeping in from the open door. A bottle of something chilled rests in a side compartment, two crystal glasses beside it.

"Wait until you see the view." He slides in beside me, his presence warm, solid—lingering. “A heads up: The height can take some getting used to."

"I'm not afraid of heights."

"No?" He buckles himself in, his stormy-blue eyes catching the dim glow of the instrument panel. "What are you afraid of?"

You, I think. How you make me want things I shouldn't.

But what I say is: "Running out of chocolate cake during emotional emergencies."

His low laugh sends a shiver down my spine. "I'll make sure the office is stocked."

The rotors hum to life, a deep, vibrating energy thrumming through the cabin. A moment later, we're lifting off, rising effortlessly above the city, Seattle unfolding below us in a glittering sea of light. The Space Needle glows in the distance, skyscrapers reflecting the moon, highways weaving luminous rivers through the night.

I inhale sharply. "Wow."

Connor watches me, not the view. "Worth breaking a few rules for, isn’t it?"

The way he says it makes my pulse stutter. I glance sideways, catching the way the city lights flicker across his face, sharpening the cut of his jaw, illuminating the silver strands in his dark hair. There’s something about him in this moment—self-assured, untouchable, yet utterly present—that steals my breath more than the altitude ever could.

He reaches for something, and a soft pop sounds as he opens the bottle from the side compartment. A moment later, he hands me a glass filled with something crisp and golden.

“To late-night adventures,” he murmurs.

I clink my glass against his. “And breaking just a few rules.”

I take a sip, the bubbles dancing on my tongue, but nothing fizzes through me quite like the way Connor leans closer, his voice dropping low.

“Just a few?”

I meet his gaze, and the city isn’t the only thing spinning beneath me.

17

HIGH ABOVE SEATTLE

CONNOR

Night has fully settled over Seattle by the time my helicopter touches down on Clearwater Tech's private helipad. The spring air is crisp, carrying the scent of cherry blossoms and possibility, and I can't stop looking at the woman beside me.

Ariana's dark hair is windblown from the flight, her cocoa-brown eyes bright with adventure, and every vein in my body seems to heat every time she glances my way.

"So," she says as we exit the helicopter, "which way to your normal-person office?"

I hesitate. "Actually..."

She raises an eyebrow. "Actually?"

"Maybe I could show you something else first?"

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