Fight or Flight(23)

Only a short time later, reality intruded far too quickly and I wondered if the universe and I really were on such good terms after all. It was awkward seeing Caleb again.

I looked down at him, sitting in the aisle seat adjacent to my aisle seat in the first-class cabin. His eyes pierced me as he sat there with his food tray out and his laptop open at the ready. Today he wore a black henley, sleeves rolled down, with dark blue jeans and biker boots.

“Excuse me,” an annoyed voice said behind me. I turned to see that while I was staring at my one-night stand, there was a line building up behind me.

“Sorry.” I moved to the overhead bin above my seat and had just bent down to pick up the carry-on when it was out of my hands and up into the bin. I blinked in confusion at finding Caleb standing so close beside me that our bodies brushed.

He looked displeased that we had to share another couple of hours together.

Well, why help me with my carry-on, then? I dropped down into my seat. As soon as he was seated, I said through the line of moving people, “You knew we’d be on this flight together, so I don’t know what the dirty look is for. Why are you going to Boston anyway?”

“Why are you?”

“I live in Boston.”

“Koto’s North American division is based out of Boston. I have a meeting there.”

“If your meeting is in Boston, what the hell were you doing in Phoenix?”

“It’s called a layover.” He smirked and turned back to his laptop.

“Ha ha ha.” I glared at him. “Your wit is unparalleled.”

Caleb shot me an assessing look. “You seem awfully upset I’m on this flight, considering you were fully aware I would be.”

“You have to admit, it is a little awkward.”

“Facing your sins, you mean?”

“Actually, yes.” I lifted my chin haughtily, my voice lowering as I lied, “I can be forgiven, however, because I was drunk.”

Indignation claimed his features. “You were as sober as I was. You regret it, fine. But own your actions.”

I stiffened at the derision in his voice and realized he was right. The truth was, I didn’t want to feel vulnerable around him, and that was pretty much how I was starting to feel. The lie had slipped out as a defense. “Fine, I wasn’t drunk.”

When no response was forthcoming, I side-eyed him and saw he was working on his laptop, ignoring me once again.

Sighing to myself, I pressed the power button on my e-reader, determined to ignore him for the duration of the flight. At least it was a short flight.

“Excuse me.”

I glanced up at the smooth voice to find a guy around my age looking down at me.

“I’m in the window seat.”

“Oh, of course.” Unlike Caleb yesterday, I got up out of my seat to let the guy in.

“Thank you.” He flashed me a flirtatious, charming smile. “Must be my lucky day.”

Normally I’d just wave a comment like that off, but I was too aware of the Scottish bastard, and I wanted him to know I was just as unaffected by our one-night stand as he was. “Some guys have all the luck,” I joked affably, hoping it came off as charming versus conceited.

The guy chuckled, moving past my seat and into his. He wore a suit that fit him so perfectly it had to be tailored. He hunched over a little in the space to shrug out of the suit jacket.

“Would you like me to take that, sir?” A flight attendant appeared at my side.

“Yes, please.” He handed the jacket to her. Handsome. Check. Well mannered. Check.

Not that I was interested, but it was safe to say today’s seatmate was a step up from yesterday’s already.

“Could you take mine?” I began unbuttoning the red peplum jacket of my suit. I’d had the hotel dry clean it too.

“Of course, madam.”

Ugh. Madam. I missed the days of being a “Miss.” Still, I smiled gratefully as I handed it to her with a thank you.

I slid back into my seat well aware of my new companion’s eyes on the black silk cami I wore tucked into my skirt. Turning to him, I gave him a small smile, which he returned. The guy had dark chocolate brown eyes, long sooty lashes any woman would have killed for, and a smooth Rob Lowe circa St. Elmo’s Fire look about him, minus the hair. This guy’s hair was thick, dark, and waved so perfectly back from his forehead he had to be using product. And a very expensive barber.

I took in the crisp white shirt he wore along with the dark blue silk tie he was currently loosening. He had a slim, athletic build, more to my usual appeal than the man across the aisle from me. Yet he was doing nothing to my hormones. Which, as it turned out, was a good thing. My gaze snagged on his left hand as he tugged on the knot of his tie.

There was a white band around his ring finger.

The jerk had removed his wedding ring.

Between the one-night stand on my right side and this ass on my left, I was beyond exasperated.

“I’m Hugh.” He held out his hand to me.

I shook hands, even though I was quietly cursing him in my mind. I didn’t understand guys who got married if they had no intention of staying faithful. “Ava.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

Ugh, he wasn’t even original. “Thank you.”

I thought I heard a grunt across the aisle, but I ignored it.