hapter 54
I keep my expression neutral, like this is no big deal. Because it’s not. Anyone on this plane can be a fan or someone- who knows us, it’s only natural for us to be affectionate. “If you’re gonna keep passing out, you might as well get
comfortable.”
She stares at me.
For a second, I think she’s going to refuse, make a joke about how weird this is, or push me away completely.
Instead, she exhales slowly.
Then, without a word, she shifts closer, resting her head against my shoulder.
It’s not perfect. Her curls tickle my neck, and she’s tense for a solid minute before finally relaxing. But she doesn’t
move away.
Neither do I.
As the plane hums around us, the clouds drifting past the window, I find myself staring at the top of her head,
wondering-
What kind of guy was Zane Whitmoore to win her heart?
The thought sits heavy in my chest, a feeling I don’t want to name.
Emilia’s breathing evens out after half an hour, her body relaxing into sleep. Carefully, I slide the book from her lap and flip to the first page.
It’s a romance novel.
Women read about the kind of men they want, right?
It doesn’t mean anything.
It won’t hurt if I actually like the kind of guy she’d be into. It’d make our act more convincing.
That’s all.
I flip open the book and let my eyes skim the first few lines.
She knew she shouldn’t want him. He was trouble, wrapped in a smile that made her forget her own name.
I pause.
That’s… intense.
I can’t hold back my snort.
I glance down at Emilia, still fast asleep against my shoulder. Her lips are slightly parted, her lashes resting against
her cheeks.
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Chapter 54
This girl reads about men who make women forget their own names?
I shake my head, turning another page.
The next line doesn’t make things better.
His voice was smooth, a quiet promise of danger as he murmured, ‘You’re mine.‘
I blink.
Jesus.
I full–on cackle at that, trying my best to be as quiet as possible not to wake Emilia up, but it’s hard.
I flip forward, scanning random paragraphs. The guy in this book–Ethan, or Evan, or something like that–spends half his time staring at the heroine like she’s the last person on earth. The other half, he’s brooding about how he’s no good for
her.
Is that what women actually like? I laugh again.
I don’t get it.
I don’t get him.
I glance at Emilia again. She shifts slightly, her nose scrunching before she relaxes again.
What did Zane Whitmoore do to make her love him? Was he the brooding type too? Did he tell her she was his in that deep, dramatic voice?
1
PFFT.
Even the thought is ridiculous.
But then is it really? If this is what Emilia likes would it really be okay to laugh about it?
I just hope it wasn’t goddamn Zane Whitmoore who set her standards in men–both fictional and not.
I click my tongue and shut the book.
I don’t like this train of thought.
I should sleep. After all, once we’re out of this plane it’ll be an entire month of watching Zane and pretending I feel something for Emilia.
My mouth suddenly tastes sour and I’m not in the mood to sleep anymore.
Instead, I stare out the window, watching the clouds roll by, wondering why the thought of Emilia loving someone like Zane Whitmoore sits so uncomfortably in my chest.
When we were teammates, when he wasn’t being an asshole, he was a bore. I never imagined what he could have possibly done to pull someone so far out of his league:
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Chapter 54
Then he left her after ten years to marry someone he barely knows.
My jaw tightens.
Well, I guess it’s a good thing. If he didn’t let Emilia slip through his fingers, this wedding cruise would be theirs and maybe I wouldn’t even get to attend.
And every single moment we’ve spent together won’t exist.
A
Ha..
A soft murmur pulls me from my thoughts.
At first, I think she’s waking up, but then I realize-
She’s dreaming.
レン
Her brows draw together, her lips parting slightly as another quiet sound escapes her.
Then she starts moving.
Just a tiny shift, pressing her closer, her face tilting toward my neck.
I freeze.
Move, Liam. Or nudge her awake and adjust my seat, or do something that doesn’t involve sitting completely still while my heart does something weird in my chest.
But I don’t. I don’t think I physically can.
Because suddenly, she sighs.
And it’s soft, barely more than a breath, but it sends warmth curling in my stomach.
I swallow hard, turning my head slightly.
She’s right there.
Her curls brush against my jaw, and her breath is warm against my collarbone.
This is… not normal.
This is the kind of moment that happens in those ridiculous romance books she reads. The kind where the guy stares at the girl for way too long, trying to figure out what she smells like.
(For the record, she smells like vanilla and something sweet, like she might have made it in the bakery.)
I shake my head at myself.
What the hell am I doing?
I exhale and close my eyes.
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AM
Chapter 54
Sleep. That’s what I need.
I’ll wake her up in an hour. Maybe.
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