Page 318 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

The idiot’s right: somehow, without noticing, I’ve landed myself two or three steps away from marriage, and I don’t even know anything about Zach’s life before he went off to college. I’ve justified it to myself by thinking of it as “staying” with Zach, not “living” with Zach, but they’re the same thing.

Eventually, though, I come up with a passable rejoinder. “You know,” I say, “if what you were saying were true, then why am I on this plane right now? Why am I headed back to Mulholland to run the store?”

“Because you’re freaked out,” Naomi answers like she’s been waiting for the question. “I think part of you realized what was going on and used what happened to Troy as an excuse to start running.”

“You’re gaslighting me,” I tell her. “You’ve gone back and forth about me and Zach so much you have no credibility left whatsoever.”

“I’m just looking out for you,” she says.

“No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s one of those phrases that sounds nice but doesn’t mean anything. You’re doing what you always do. You’re looking out for you.”

“What you need is a fling with someone to take your mind off of Zach,” she says.

“Right,” I scoff. “Cheating on my CEO boyfriend sounds exactly like the right move to make.”

“See?” she asks, either missing or ignoring my sarcasm. “I knew you’d come around.”

“I’m not cheating on him,” I tell her.

“You know, it’s not cheating if one of you is out of town,” she says.

“You know you’re a moron?” I respond.

Naomi catches me with a quick elbow to the ribs.

“Hey!” I protest, only to be shushed by the woman sitting behind me. In a much quieter voice, I ask, “What was that for?”

“Nevermind,” she says. “You see that guy over there? The one reading the magazine but turning the pages the wrong way?” she asks.

“What about him?” I groan.

“He is so looking for it. Just sit back and watch,” she says. “I’m going to show you what you’re missing by not being single.”

While it can’t be airline policy to remove a passenger from the plane midflight, maybe they’d make an exception.

Naomi gets up from her seat and “accidentally” bumps into the man’s arm as she’s passing him. She leans forward and puts her hands together on her chest, saying, “Please forgive me.” Could she be any more obvious?

She keeps walking toward the lavatory and, sure enough, within a minute, the man she bumped into is on his way to join her.

This is my life.

By the time the plane lands, Naomi’s been back to the lavatory twice, both times with a man right after her. Every time she came back to her seat—face red and stinking like the cheap cologne of whomever—she’d go into why what she just did is what I should be doing.

I’ve never been someone’s excuse for a sexual binge on a plane before. It’s not as exciting as it sounds.

We deplane and find a driver holding a sign with our names on it. After collecting Max and Sammie, we’re on our way back to Mulholland.

After we drop the animals off at the apartment, I tell Naomi I’m going to go for a walk. Of course, she insists upon going with me.

We’re walking, and she’s still going on about how I’ve had all the fun I’m going to have with Zach and how it’s time to cut the cord. The longer we’re walking, the more ridiculous her arguments become.

If I engage her in further conversation, she’ll never stop, so no matter how stupid or offensive her words, I keep quiet. That silence ends, though, as we come within sight of the shop.

“Oh my god,” I mutter and take off running. I stop short before I reach the broken glass of what used to be the front windows of the store.

There’s glass on the sidewalk, even going out as far as the road. Inside the shop, it’s all rocks and beer bottles and glass from the windows. The glass is just everywhere.

“Naomi?” I ask.

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