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“So you’re definitely moving home?”
“My mom didn’t give me a lot of choice in the matter, threatening to cut me off completely. I mentioned staying the summer for my internship, but as soon as she finds out it’s in the music industry, there’s no way she’d be on board.”
He sighed heavily. “Taking your mother out of the equation, what do you want?”
Great question. I wished I had a good answer. “I have no clue. My grand plan for the moment is to get back to my apartment, turn off my brain, and spend the rest of the weekend in blissful denial—which may start with a strong drink or, like, four, on the plane.” I wondered when he was returning to Los Angeles, but figured with him flying in last night, he probably wasn’t ready to go home tonight.
He glanced over but said nothing.
Once we got closer to the airport, I noticed that we weren’t heading towards departures. “Where are we going?”
“To the private terminal and my plane.” Colby often took his company jet for travel.
“You’re returning to LA, too?” Could I help it if my heart started to beat faster that we might be flying back together?
Flashing those dimples, which in all fairness should be a registered sexual weapon, he shook his head. “Not yet. First I’m taking you to Vegas.”
