The Spiral Down (The Fall Up #2)(13)

Because…well, he’d literally saved my life.

Now was definitely not the time to revisit that day.

Shaking off the memory, I tipped my head at Evan. “Drink? Yes?”

His confusion showed in the tiny creases between his brows. “No. I mean, yes. I could use a drink. But are you sure you’re okay?”

“Positive.”

His eyes searched my face.

But he wasn’t going to find anything. I’d made sure of that.

I held his brilliant, blue stare with every ounce of false confidence I could muster. At any other time, it wouldn’t have been false. At a lower altitude, without a death-defying landing in my not-so-distant future, I would have launched full-on defilement mode on him.

Patience. It might have been the only virtue I possessed.

I cleared my throat and jutted my chin toward the flight attendant waiting for his order.

“Right. Yeah. Beer. Domestic,” he requested, unfortunately snapping out of my trance.

We sat in silence until she returned with our drinks.

Hiding the shake left in my hands, I shoved the SkyShop magazine back into the pocket in front of me. “Thank you, gorgeous.” I smiled, dropping my eyes to her chest.

She was completely covered, but her breasts were no less noticeable. If I hadn’t been already pushing my limits with this woman, I would have asked if they were fake. Not that I cared. Tits didn’t do anything for me. But I found it fascinating, the lengths women went through to enhance those worthless chest ornaments.

I lifted my eyes back up to her face and found that her cheeks had pinked. Game on.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about that mess when we first boarded. That’s not who I am. Fear is not a pretty color on me.” I raked my teeth over my bottom lip and strategically leaned across Evan so my chest brushed his arm.

His thick bicep flexed at the contact.

My smile spread. “I just feel terrible about the way I acted. It was unforgiveable, really. Any chance I could bribe you with front-row tickets to accept my apology?”

Her eyes flashed wide, and I knew I had her.

“Perhaps dinner afterward?”

My sexuality wasn’t a secret. Yet, for some reason, women were always easier for me to charm. Men often fell under my spell, but women were intoxicated by it. The thrill of the possibility that they could be the one to change me, no doubt. It was a mindset I understood completely.

“You don’t need to do that,” she breathed, unconsciously swaying toward me.

We were hovering over Evan’s lap at this point. It would have been awkward as hell if his clean, masculine scent hadn’t been filling my lungs.

But, then again, maybe my deep inhales as I drank him in were the only awkward part—at least for him.

He pressed back against his seat, but I shifted with him to maintain the connection.

Keeping my eyes on the flight attendant, I purred, “But I really do. What’s your name, doll?”

She giggled and then glanced up to see if anyone was watching. “Jessica.”

“Mmm, Jessica. So nice to meet you.” I started to extend a shaky hand in her direction before I thought better of it. I did the next best thing and dropped it to the shared armrest—right on top of Evan’s forearm.

As to be expected, he quickly bent his elbow, moving his arm out of my reach.

“I’m Henry Alexander.”

“I know,” she whispered, then licked her lips.

“Oh, good. That makes it easier for me.” I paused when I got an idea. Fighting back a mischievous grin, I continued. “How about you and one of your girls come out to my show in L.A. next week? My treat. Dinner, drinks, the whole deal. Evan and I would love to take you two beautiful ladies out for an evening.”

“Excuse me?” he exclaimed, cocking his head to catch my gaze.

I leaned back into my seat and lifted a hand to massage his shoulder. I was barely able to suppress a moan when the angle of his firm trap muscle met my palm.

Fuck, this guy was built like a brick wall. And I was going to love every second of watching him crumble for me.

“Oh, come on, Evan. It’s the least we can do. Double date.” I winked at Jessica. “You can fly them out! My plane should be ready by then.”

Jessica’s eyes jumped to Evan’s. “You’re a pilot?” Her smile spread irritatingly wide.

Back off, Ginger Spice.

Snapping my fingers in her direction, I corrected, “He’s my pilot.”

Subtlety was not a virtue I possessed. Was subtlety a virtue at all?

“Your temporary pilot,” he amended before shaking his head and then tipping his beer to his lips for a long pull.

“Anyway. Do we have a date?” And, by date, I meant feeding her dinner while I attempted to work my way into Evan’s pants.

She pressed one finger to her lips and then nervously flashed her eyes around the cabin.

“Oops. Sorry.” I shrugged sheepishly. Lifting my drink to my mouth, I discreetly passed her my cocktail napkin and then not-so-discreetly brushed my forearm against Evan’s chest as I pulled away.

He offered her a tight smile just before she disappeared.

I grinned proudly.

“What the f*cking hell was that?” he whisper-yelled at me.

“That was me getting a woman’s number.”