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He stepped back, and without saying another word, he walked away.



In flight—> London (HTW)

I’d heard a lot of bullshit in my life, but “I have to be your only one” might’ve secured itself in the number one spot.

I stared straight ahead from the cockpit, wondering why the hell this woman I barely knew was having any type of effect on me. Twice, after walking away from her, I’d ventured into the cabin for a restroom break and caught her smiling and entertaining a male passenger. Each one was a Wall Street type.

The asshole in 3A told her a joke about “the mile-high club.” She’d laughed at him, and even though I could tell it wasn’t genuine, I knew she wasn’t lying when she told him she’d never had sex on a plane. The color on her cheeks gave her away.

The asshole in 4C kissed her hand after she brought him a glass of wine. Then he caressed it as he flirted with her for a least three minutes. (I fucking counted.)

I was seconds away from walking over to him and saying something, but I came to my senses at the last minute and returned to the cockpit—vowing to stay put for the rest of the flight.

Her demands for monogamous fucking were unfair and completely unrealistic, but as we coasted through another patch of clouds, I briefly contemplated if an arrangement like that could work. Temporarily, at least.

Yes, I’d been unable to seal the deal with most of the women in my contact list for weeks, but I didn’t expect that to last forever. Before running into Gillian on the SkyLink, my London contact was texting me about “desperately” needing sex again, but she was insisting that I take her out on a real date beforehand.

I had yet to respond because I knew if we had one date, she would want two. Then there would be random “I’m thinking about you.” “What are you up to?” text messages late at night, and ultimately a conversation about wanting more. It always ended with someone—always the woman, wanting more and that’s why casual sex didn’t need to be consistent with just one person. It didn’t need to resemble anything like a relationship.

I didn’t need to think about Gillian’s “only one” demand any further.

She’s out of her goddamn mind...



London (HTW)

“Flight attendants, prepare for landing.” Jake’s deep command came over the speakers minutes before the descent, making me walk through the cabin one last time to make sure all the seat belts were fastened.

The two men who’d flirted with me hours ago were both thankfully staring out the windows, so there was no time for me to accept either of their offers for a date at landing.

The landing came smooth and fast several minutes later, and as the plane parked at the gate, I waited for the ground team to open the door. When all was clear, I took my place near the exit door with Miss Connors.

“We have two days of rest here,” she said. “So I suggest you soak up as much time in the hotel robes as possible, and find the time to unpack your brain so you can bring it aboard our next flight.”

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to respond to that, so I simply nodded and turned away from her.

“Have an amazing time in London!” Her voice instantly became chirpy for the departing passengers. “Thank you for flying with Elite! Come see us again!”

I started to say farewell to them as well, but I felt Jake stepping between the two of us.

“Nice speech, Captain Weston.” She looked up at him. “Are you not saying the mandatory Elite words and being non-friendly because you’ve forgotten how to be, or are you purposely doing it in hopes that I’ll record it and have you written up?”

“I’m hoping I’ll be written up.”

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today.” She glared at him. “The next time we fly together, I can guarantee that I won’t be.”

“Looking forward to it.” He glared back at her until she turned away and resumed her over-the-top farewells.

Unlike the other pilots I’d flown with, he didn’t chime in with us to wish the passengers well. Instead, he stood there silent and brooding, as if the passengers couldn’t get off the plane fast enough.

When the final passengers departed, I expected him to say something, to at least look at me, but he addressed the first officer, then he addressed us all.

“Until next time, ladies.” He pulled on the handle of his luggage and said a few more words to the first officer before heading down the jet bridge.

I grabbed my bag and rolled it far behind him, catching bits and pieces of the lusty compliments the other flight attendants were throwing his way.

We all walked through the terminal and to the ground transportation dock where a designated white van was waiting for us. The first officer and Miss Connors shared the front row, I claimed the middle, and Jake sat behind me with Janet and Elizabeth.

“So, Captain Weston...” Elizabeth purred, keeping her voice low so Miss Connors couldn’t hear. “How long will you be staying in London?”

“Just tonight.”

“Oh!” Janet cleared her throat. “Since you only have one night, would you like to join us at the bar this evening?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“What’s there to think about? Did you already have plans?”

“I did,” he said, and I could feel him staring at me. “But the arrangement seems a bit too challenging, so I may have to completely cancel.”