Page 3 of Off Trail Love
There. Typing out those words makes me feel the teensiest bit calmer. If he notices me, I will make him pay for what he did.
Brooke
Do you think that’s the best idea?
Chloe
The man broke her heart. It’s fair that she does whatever she wants to make him pay for that.
THANK YOU
But I hope he doesn’t notice me. I want to go and enjoy my hike.
Ava
What if he does notice you?
I’ll just first pretend he doesn’t exist.
Just like he pretended I didn’t exist that night. I push away the memory. A rule of mine is not to think about that night.Ever.Just because Jack Freaking Donovan is on my flight doesn’t mean I need to acknowledge his existence or remember anything I’ve spent so long forgetting about him. I can pretend I didn’t see him.
I set my phone down. I’m overreacting. He probably won’t even notice me, so why am I freaking out so much? Maybe because it’s been six years, and I didn’t plan on seeing him today. I don’t like when my plans go out the window, and Jack is not on the plan for this trip.
“So, will you tell me anything, or should I ask Jack?”
I grit my teeth as I turn to my seatmate. She’s staring at the back of Jack’s head. Not good. Not good at all.
“The only thing I’ll say is that he and I are ancient history. I’m not going to get into it more than that.”
“He must have really hurt you,” she surmises. “You don’t avoid good-looking men who read books if they didn’t do something to you. Did he cheat?”
I shift uncomfortably. “No.”
The thing is—at least in hindsight—what he did wasn’t all that bad. I’ve been through worse since then. But the sting of that first rejection still hurts more than it should.
The woman smiles, delighted. Then she grabs a notebook and scribbles something down on it. She hands me the paper. “That’s my address. Send me the wedding invite.”
I gawk at her. “There’s not going to be a wedding.”
She pats my arm. “Just send me an invite.”
CHAPTER TWO
jack
We’ve beenat our gate for almost five minutes, and the people on the plane in front of me are moving at a snail’s pace. If they’re even moving at all. They’re just sitting around like they don’t mind being in this cramped, small space with a hundred other people. I force my legs to stop bouncing. Let’s get a move on, people. Once I get off this plane, maybe my heart rate will go down and I’ll be able to relax.
Finally, it’s my turn to get off. I grab my backpacking backpack—the one that is still covered in dust from lack of use—and head off the plane. My philosophy when traveling is the same as that of living my life: be as quick and efficient as possible so you don’t disrupt anyone else. It’s easy, honestly, to just be courteous. It’s considerate. Anything else makes me cranky, which I’m feeling now. I was already feeling crabby about having to come on this stupid hike anyway, but flying made that much worse.
I take a deep, steadying breath as I look at all the people in the terminal. Where the heck am I supposed to go now? My cousin Graham was running this whole hiking thing and said he’d be waiting after I come up from the escalator. But I don’t seean escalator. Finally, I see a sign that says “Baggage Claim” with an arrow and head in that direction.
A flash of movement catches my eye as a small woman rushes past me, her head down. There’s nothing abnormally special about her. She’s wearing gray sweatpants and carrying a pack nearly as big as her, but she’s moving fast.
That’s my kind of woman.
Not that I want a woman or even have time for a dating life right now. If I want to earn the promotion of running my office, I must make sacrifices. And much to my mom’s dismay, that means no dating.
I stop walking again because I don’t know where I’m going. I pull out my phone and call Graham.
