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CHAPTER 9RaidenWhen I slide into the first-class seat right beside Zoe, she bites down hard on her rosy, full bottom lip, lets out an annoyed groan, and rolls her eyes heavenward.
“Just when I thought this couldn’t possibly get any better,” she snaps. “I should have known.” She gives me the cold shoulder, literally, as she turns to stare out the window, even though she has her little shutter thing closed. Apparently, it beats looking at me.
As she probably guessed, I made sure to book Zoe’s and my seat together in a private little corner of the plane. The seats are huge since it’s first-class, with lots of legroom. I booked as much of the company into first-class as I could, and then for those I couldn’t, I placed them in first-class on the flight back. I didn’t want it to appear like I was playing favorites.
I made sure it was stressed that this is a wilderness trip, so no one had to be in suits and dresses. As a result, Zoe is dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a lightweight sweater that hangs off one shoulder, exposing her creamy, flawless skin, which made my dick harder than a tree trunk the second I saw her. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun, and she has just a touch of mascara and a bit of pink lip gloss on. Or maybe it’s tinted lip balm. I’m not sure, but I like it because it makes her already pink lips even rosier.
I went for jeans too. And no, not faded ones. It’s dark wash jeans this time. Had to play it safe. I couldn’t bring myself to dress too casually, so I went with a black dress shirt and rolled up the sleeves. I’ve been complimented on how muscly my forearms are before, and it obviously went straight to my head—not that head. I meant the head that makes all the decisions—the one on top of my shoulders.
I might have treated myself to a haircut and a shave at my favorite barbershop yesterday, and this morning, I might have dabbed on just one tiny dab of my most expensive cologne. I can barely smell it because it was indeed expensive, and that kind of stuff is made right. It doesn’t stink up an area as it’s subtle. Barely there, but when it’s noticed, it’s really noticed.
After wracking my brain the night Zoe left, I decided on two things.
One, I didn’t ask for Zoe to enter my life like this. Two, I’m not going to be able to get her out of my head—yes, still the one on my shoulders.
Once I admitted those two basic, inescapable facts to myself, I had to settle on a plan of action. It’s just how I’m made up. I can’t let anxiety or uncertainty rule my life. I’ve always been one of those people who had to make my own way, find my own solutions, and create my own destiny.
So, I decided that since I wouldn’t be able to purge Zoe out of my head anytime soon, even if I haven’t been able to explain to myself why exactly that is, or pick apart straight down to the tiny, little, gritty parts and pieces, I decided there was only one thing to do.
Make a plan.
I’m officially here on said plan. The name of that plan? Operation Ex-Stepsister Seduction.
Basically, I decided I couldn’t let Zoe get away until I’ve figured out what it is about her that’s so unique, so different, and so…so…so undefinable. Why I just know, I can’t exactly say. It’s just something I know is true with every fiber of my being.
Maybe I’m dramatic, but it doesn’t make it any less true.
So, I’m here. And clearly, Zoe is pissed.
As soon as we’re in the sky, she turns to me. “Why don’t you move to California or something? All the good tech stuff is there. It seems like the perfect place for you.”
“I’ve thought about it, but I like Miami. It’s home.”
“You’re so far from home that you might as well be in a different city.”
I shrug just to piss her off, and it works. A slow red flush creeps up the beautiful column of her neck.
“Great.” Zoe goes back to staring out the window. At least she’s opened the shutter now.
“My mom lives in Colorado. When I told her all about running into you again, she was so excited to meet you. I arranged for us to have lunch with her on Thursday.”
“What?” Zoe whips around. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“No. I didn’t think you’d have any objections. I thought you and my mom always got along well. She always did like you, and she missed you after. She just didn’t think it was appropriate to contact you, given you were still a minor, and she and your dad ended things on a pretty low, vicious note. And then too much time went on. She was embarrassed about it when I told her, but she was also very excited. You wouldn’t break her heart and deny her lunch now, would you?”
