Page 71 of The Fantasy League
“I’d be okay with that.” I planted my lips against his this time. “Are you sure you don’t want to have a quickie in the back seat?” I joked.
A roar of laughter spilled from his chest. “Don’t tempt me, Red. I’m a weak man.”
My cheeks turned rose colored at the fact that I’d even suggested it. I wasn’t a prude, but it’d been a while since I’d been with anyone—well, that wasn’t one of my beloved audiobook boyfriends—so I was more than alittleeager to jump Abel’s bones.
And by jumping his bones, I meant screw him into oblivion over and over… and over. Obviously.
Abel grabbed my bag from the back seat and walked me to the entrance. Pausing in front of the doors, he cupped my cheeks between his hands. I snaked my arms around him and tugged him against me, not wanting to let go as he pressed his lips to mine one last time.
I hated that every time something good began to happen with us, we got ripped away from each other immediately after.
“Don’t fall in love with anyone else until I get back, got it?” His mouth quirked against my lips. “I don’t want to hear about you going on any dates with any fuckers namedJohn, you hear me?”
Oh, if only he knew how much I’d fallen for him already.
Nobody, not even the Johns of the world, stood a fighting chance anymore. Not even freaking close.
“See you in a few days?” Hesitation coated my voice as I removed my arms from around him.
He nodded, giving me a quick kiss on the tip of my nose. “Bye, Red.”
Trudging my way through the automatic sliding doors, I turned around and gave him a small wave. Emptiness rang deep in my bones with each step that took me farther away from him.
I’d just made it to the front of the security line when all of a sudden I heard a shout from somewhere behind me. “Red, wait!”
Turning over my shoulder to see Abel barreling his giant frame through the crowd, my eyes widened in shock as he grabbed my elbow from behind and turned me around. When his lips found mine, he kissed me passionately for at least a minute, if not more, before pulling back. “I needed another one to hold me over.”
I stood there shell-shocked and slightly embarrassed about the fact that I’d just had a public make-out session while Abel turned around like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. His broad shoulders ambled back toward the exit and my eyes stayed glued to his back until the navy-blue Matrix shirt he wore was no longer visible.
And just like that, he was gone.
* * *
I madeit back to Miami in a tizzy.
After barely making it to the plane on time—which was Abel’s fault, not mine—I crashed to sleep in the comfy seat before the jet began taxiing.
I got great sleep whenever Abel was next to me, but I was so wired the entire time I was visiting him that I’d only slept a few hours total the whole weekend.
It was okay to still be alittlenervous around him even though we were together, right?
Once the plane touched down in Miami, the sweet flight attendant nudged my shoulder to wake me alongside a stream of apologies. Five hours passed by in a blink when you were dead asleep.
Hell, aside from the wake-up call, the flight attendant didn’t have to do a single thing for me. Must’ve been an easy flight for her.
How much did private flight attendants make anyway?
Hmm, maybe I should’ve gone to flight school instead of culinary school. I’m sure it would’ve been a hell of a lot cheaper and the job seemed a thousand times more interesting than quite literally watching bread rise.
Slightly jealous I missed my calling in life, I thanked the crew as I walked down the steps of the plane and settled into the black SUV that Abel said would be waiting to take me to my meeting.
When I opened the giant office doors to the Red Reading Publishing building, I looked around at the sea of empty desks. Aside from Gina’s office lit up at the end of the hallway, it didn’t look like a single other soul was there.
Granted, it was a Sunday in the middle of June and most sane people were out spending their time off at the beach or day drinking while trying to forget that they’d be glued back to their desks again at nine o’clock the next morning.
One glance at Gina and I thanked God that she was starting maternity leave tomorrow. By the looks of it, she could’ve given birth on the carpet any minute.
She stood over her desk rearranging papers when I thumped my knuckles against the glass door with a smile and she waved me in. She had a black pixie cut and always wore these enormous red-framed glasses that were two sizes too large for her head that she somehow made look stylish.
