that a metric shit-ton, or an imperial shit-ton?”
“Jerk. Go away. Have sex with Fynn. Lots of sex.”
Sophia’s grin made my own a bit more genuine. “We are totally going to have lots of sex. And then we’re going to eat pizza and drink beer. He’s going to teach me about football. Now go before you miss your flight.”
Thankfully, the security process only took a few minutes to get through. Customs took me no time as I went through the Nexus line, bypassing the hordes that stood in long winding rows. The gate for my plane was at the farthest possible end of the airport. By the time I reached my final destination, my back and arm were achy from carrying my too-full bag and walking in my knee-high Nine West leather boots. I needed to sit down and start Operation Distract Tamara.
The waiting area for the flight to New York was crazy. Most of the seats around the gate were filled—I plopped onto the first empty seat I saw and let my bag fall onto my feet.
The row directly in front of me was full, forcing me to do that look anywhere but at people so you don’t invite awkward conversation thing. I turned my head and locked eyes on the most handsome man I’d ever seen. It took me three seconds for his face to register as familiar. Another two seconds and I was ready to bolt. The black-rimmed glasses were new, bolder than the ones he’d worn three years ago, but were no less striking. His hair was longer than I remembered, but did nothing to hide his identity.
Reid Jacobs.
No.
No, no, no, this really couldn’t be happening.
His eyes were closed, which meant I hadn’t been spotted yet. I reached down to grab my bag and move to another section. My fingers shook and I couldn’t manage a grip on the handle of my heavy carry-on.
“Thank you for flying AC7382 to New York. This is a preboarding call—”
My head snapped up to see that Reid had opened his eyes and was now staring directly at me. The brilliant green of his eyes sent a shiver through me. The last time we’d been together there had been nothing but anger and harsh words between us.
A sickness that had nothing to do with my impending flight rose up my throat, burning as it went. Too late to flee, I squeezed the handle of my bag and looked away.
“AC7382 to New York is now boarding first class. Please have your boarding pass and your passport opened to your picture ID.”
I’d shoved my passport back into my purse and now had to try and fish the damn thing back out. The entire time I felt Reid’s gaze on me, watching my fumblings. On shaky legs, I made my way into the line for check-in. I finally retrieved my passport when I got to the attendant, who gave it a quick once-over before scanning my boarding pass and nodding me toward the walkway.
“Enjoy your flight.”
“Thanks.” God, I wanted to puke. I was going to be trapped on a plane with my ex. Could this day get any worse?
I pulled my tablet out before shoving my bag into the overhead compartment and falling into my seat. Being in first class meant I had to sit here while everyone in coach walked past. I’d have to ignore Reid, pretend he was just another body in the crowd. I could totally do that, even if it meant using props. Bodies moved past as I focused downward and as each one went by, my rising panic began to subside. That was until a shadow stretched across my body and a long-forgotten scent washed over me.
“Hello, Tamara.”
God, please kill me.
I looked up into those beautiful bright green eyes rimmed with black frames. The flight gods were clearly laughing their asses off, sending a demon to torture me for the next two hours.
Reid ran his hand down across his mouth. “Do I have something on my face? It’s not like you to stare.”
“What?” Shit. Smooth, Tamara. “No. What are you doing here?”
“You’re in my seat. I’m fine with the aisle, though. It gives me room to stretch my legs.” He didn’t wait for me to respond and sat down.
“What?” I squeezed the edge of my tablet. My brain now bounced between running through plane-crash scenarios and trying to figure out how best to change seats. “You can’t be sitting here.”
“I wasn’t originally. You do still hate flying, right? Figured the guy who was going to be here would appreciate moving before your panic attack set in.”
“Asshole.” I tried to relax my grip on the tablet, but my body wasn’t cooperating. “What are you doing here? On this plane?”
“The same thing you are—going to New York.”
His low, rich voice was a balm to my nerves. Despite how we’d broken up, my body seemed to recognize Reid’s and immediately relaxed. I’d forgotten how protected his long, strong body made me feel. The seats in first class gave him more room than in coach, but he still had to tuck his legs awkwardly into the space between the seats whenever someone walked down the aisle.
I wanted nothing more than to say something snarky to him. Three years ago he’d called me a cold bitch and I’d screamed back about him being an uncommunicative asshole. He’d taken my demand to leave seriously, and I’d never seen him again...until today. So the how and why of us sitting side by side on a plane couldn’t be his fault. Could it?
Momentarily ignoring each other, we both took the warm towels and complimentary beverages offered to us. Holy crap, free alcohol was most definitely a bonus right now. The flight attendant was eyeing me in a way that told me I was failing miserably in masking my discomfort.
The only thing worse than flying was being forced to be near Reid. Add the two things up and it was more than I could handle.
The moment the flight attendants began going through their safety demonstration, I was back to thinking about engine failure. I was wondering how quickly I would be able to get off my lower seat cushion if I needed it as a flotation device when I realized Reid was staring at me. “So why are you here?”
I wasn’t expecting him to strike up a conversation, especially after all the static I was throwing his way. The Reid of three years ago wouldn’t have noticed my panic let alone commented on it, so I was surprised to see genuine concern from him.
“Business.” I whimpered when the flaps on the wings started moving. “Meetings with new clients and some other stuff.”
“They’re doing safety checks. Keep looking at me.” He gave me a smile, one that bled into his eyes and made them come alive. “I’m going for work, too. In fact, I think we might be heading off for the same thing. The show.”
“What?”
“I’m one of the assistant directors assigned to Domestic Goddess.”
“When the hell did you get into the film industry?” Being an assistant director was a far cry from a medic in the army.
“After we broke up.”
“That’s a serious change in your career.”
“The last one didn’t work out so well for me. You should know that.”
I did. Even without him telling me, I knew something bad had happened to him on active duty. “Did you know I was working on it?”
“Found out yesterday when I spoke to Brian. I have to admit I was shocked to see your name on the judges list. How did you end up here?”
“My business partner and I were on a show last year. I did all the business stuff while she was on camera. Really, she should be here.”
“Why isn’t she?”
“Business negotiations aren’t her strong suit. Reality Life wanted one of us though, to keep the momentum going from Impact Load. So, here I am.” Which left me with a burning question. “Does Brian