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And damn me if that voice in my head doesn’t have a point this time. Maybe it’s time I start thinking about respecting myself. I made it to the final five, for God’s sake. Fluke or not, that’s not nothing. And I’m excited about it, my current moping notwithstanding.
The line at the counter isn’t moving, so I pull up an old file in my cloud storage app. Coop asked me a few days ago if I was working as a caterer; it’s been so many years I’d almost forgotten about it but sure enough, the file is still there. It was a project for one of my business classes in college—I’d worked up a full business plan for a catering business, right down to funding sources and scouted locations. The information is ten years out of date, but the bones are still good.
Reading through those pages, I feel more like myself than I have in years. Like putting on a favorite old sweater you’d misplaced and thought was lost. By the time they call for first class to board, I’m tapping out notes, highlighting things that need to be changed or updated and practically buzzing with energy again.
Screw Mr. Heckman. He doesn’t want to give me that promotion, fine. Maybe it’s time I start looking to promote myself.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
I gasp and almost drop my phone, turning to see Cooper Lawson standing in line right behind me, grinning.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. Because I’m clearly an idiot when it comes to this man. His grin tells me he’s perfectly aware of that fact.
“Knitting a sweater,” he says, lifting a brow. “What do you think I’m doing here?”
“Is this— Are we on the same flight?” I’m stammering. Why am I stammering? This is Cooper, for God’s sake. I might have the hots for him, but that’s nothing new. I managed to ace that chem class, despite having him as my distracting, if otherwise helpful, lab partner. What’s the damn deal?
There’s a chance it might have something to do with fucking Drew all night after the competition on Saturday. Maybe. Possibly also because Cooper’s name came up more than once between us, often in the form of a moan. Which is kinky as hell and more than a little wrong.
Cooper watches my face with no small amount of amusement.
“Looks like,” he says, waving his boarding pass and pointing me forward when the line moves. Five minutes later, I’m getting my ancient laptop out of my bag and reveling in the super-deluxe experience of business class when he plops down into the seat next to me.
“No way,” I say.
Cooper smirks. “I may have sweet-talked the flight attendant into switching seats for me. But if you’d rather spend the next hour chatting with Mr. Fritz up there…” Coop tilts his head in the direction of a sweating, heavyset older man draining his glass of champagne and playing poker on an enormous tablet.
I shake my head and Cooper grins.
“Thought that might be the case,” he says. “Though it doesn’t say much for me, if you had to think about it that hard.”
I nudge him with my elbow.
“Not that hard,” I say. Cooper slides a hand around my arm before I can pull back, using it to pull me close enough to whisper.
“Looking good, Ross.” His eyelashes brush my cheek, making me shiver despite the wool blanket draped across my lap. “Missed you the last couple of days.”
“You just saw me yesterday,” I say breathlessly.
“For a minute,” he says, shaking his head slowly and letting go of my arm. “It’s not enough.”
“No?”
“Not nearly enough,” he says, keeping his voice low. I’m forcibly reminded of our little indiscretion at the bar a couple of nights ago and feel my face heating up.
“Lucky for you,” I say, clearing my throat and trying for cool as hard as I can fake. “We’ve got five days of filming ahead of us.”
Cooper looks at me, taking in my flushed face and the absolute lack of chill in my expression. His smirk turns to a grin.
“Lucky for me,” he says.
The flight attendant stops to offer us champagne.
“Why not?” says Cooper, accepting two glasses with a grin. He hands me one and raises his own in a toast. “Cheers. Here’s to you, Bailey Ross.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I say, tapping his plastic cup with mine. “Here’s to me.”
A beat of silence passes while as the flight attendant moves on to the passengers across the row.
