Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 51243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
The couple across the aisle were looking at me like I was at fault for something.
Clearing my throat, I leaned closer to him.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Huh?” He pulled off his headphones. “What’s up?”
“Would you mind putting your shoes back on?”
“Why?”
“Because no one else has their shoes off.”
He arched a brow.
“I just would really appreciate it if you put your feet where they belong for the rest of this flight.”
“Do you hear me asking you to stop penning in your journal while we fly?” he asked.
“No, but—”
“Your head has blocked my view this entire flight, and I haven’t said a word, so how about you shut up and let me enjoy this flight that I paid for?”
Tell him his feet smell, Audrey. Yell it at the top of your lungs and get everyone else on your side…
“That’s what I thought.” He flexed his toes before putting on his headphones again. I swallowed my anger and let him have the win.
Turning my head to the window, I watched the clouds until we touched down on the tarmac.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you may now take off your seat belts,” the pilot’s voice came through the speakers. “On behalf of myself and the crew at Elite Airways, we hope you had a good journey with us and that you enjoy your time here in Exeter.”
I exhaled, unbuckled, and practically jogged down the jet bridge, grateful to escape the corn-chip fog.
Unknown Number
Hey Miss Parker! I’m Regina from Airshuttle Transport! I’m in the arrivals zone wearing pink and holding a sign with your name! Let me know when you’ve landed.
Just landed. Headed your way after I pick up my luggage.
Awesome! Take your time!
The carousels in baggage claim spun lazily, full and untouched. Passengers crowded around something on the far side of the room. Not wanting to join their zombie party, I headed straight for the belt and grabbed my two suitcases.
Looking around for the guide, I noticed a pile of crumpled welcome signs near the counter. Mine was at the very bottom.
“Ahhh!” “Oh my godddd!” “Me next, me next!” Screams and cheers echoed from outside.
I rolled my suitcase toward the noise, where a few guys in blue and white football jerseys were posing in front of a statue for photographers while others stood off to the side, chatting with fans. Camera shutters clicked, perfume mingled with the smell of jet fuel, and the air buzzed with giddy energy.
Ugh. They’re just human beings who play football. Not gods…
I rolled my eyes and pulled out my phone—but a familiar face in the distance stopped me cold.
I didn’t want to believe my eyes were showing me reality, but his smile—that smile—brought my entire world to a screeching halt.
Taylor Effin’ Wolff.
I’d been hoping to hear he’d fallen into the seventh circle of Hell or been hit by a bus, but my prayers remained unanswered. And if anything, it looked as if the universe had bestowed him with undeserved fortune and more good looks.
Dressed in a jersey and jeans like his teammates, he smiled for a selfie with a mom and her daughter, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. When he laughed, his jersey lifted just enough to reveal a hard, sculpted “V” disappearing into denim.
I tried to turn away, to stop my mind from spinning as to why he could possibly be here in the same city as me, but then I remembered.
He plays for the New England Bears now. That’s all.
Relieved, I let out a breath, but I still couldn’t look away. I couldn’t even move.
His eyes suddenly found mine—and his smile shattered. Time stood still between us, and the man in front of me slowly shifted into the boy I knew before. The boy who went out of his way to ruin every moment, to ply me with fake “let’s be friends” offers until he was ready to hurt me again, and the guy I forced myself to stop reaching out to with my letters two years ago.
The mirage slowly dissipated as he blinked a few times, and I finally stepped back. His lips parted as if he were about to shout something across the crowd, so I offered an olive branch first. I threw up my middle finger, mouthing, “Fuck you.”
I turned away before I could see his reaction and pulled out my phone.
Hey, Regina. I’m here. I don’t see you.
“I see you!” She appeared out of nowhere, my name sign tucked under her arm. “The Bears were doing a photoshoot for the new season, so I had to take a chance on getting some selfies. Want to look?” She thrust her phone in front of my face, giving me an unwanted view of Taylor’s pearly white smile.
“I’m printing the ones with James Nolan and Taylor Wolff on all my bras.” She beamed. “Aren’t they hot?”
“Sure.” I forced a smile.