Ryder leans into her ear, though his caramel eyes stay locked on mine. “Believe it or not, there was a time Scarlett loved being stuck with me.”
Millie squeals with glee, clapping her hands together. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear all these stories!”
I slice him a dead-eyed stare before abruptly pivoting toward the blonde hanging on our every word. “Hi, I’m Scarlett,” I say, and she blooms like a plant under grow lights.
“No need to introduce yourself! I’m a huge fan.Kissing for Keepsis one of my favorite movies, I’ve seen it about a thousand times,” she gushes.
“Oh, you’re so sweet to say so! Now I wish we’d brought Jase with us today. That would’ve been fun, huh?” She looks unwell at the thought, her eyes popping wide as frisbees, and I can understand why—Ryder and Jase in the same room is more than most mortal women can handle. “Will you be coming with us today, too?”
She laughs. “I wish! But y’all should have a wonderful time. It’s a beautiful day for an aerial tour.” She has an adorable Southern accent.
“Holly’s uncle runs this place, and she’s helping out for the summer,” Ryder explains, and Holly beams like he’s just declared her Employee of the Month.
“He made sure everything was ready to go for you, Mr. Perry,” she says eagerly, aiming another doting smile his way, and I feel for this sweet Southern belle. I know all too well what the potent power of his charisma can do to a girl without her guard up.
“Sounds good.” Ryder moves to the door leading out to the runway and holds it open for us. “Ladies, after you.”
I take Millie’s arm, and as we pass I murmur, “Thanks,Mr. Perry.” I catch his smirk in my periphery.
We’re immediately blasted by sun, and I slide on my sunglasses. It’s got to be topping ninety today, my skin going dewy with sweat. At least I’m dressed appropriately, in high-waisted shorts and a sleeveless blouse. I chance a glance at Ryder and regret it instantly. He’s dazzling. Sunlight glints off his blond hair, his high cheekbones, his bronzed forearms. His whitepolo only amplifies his tan, health and vitality seeping from his pores. He’s gilded and golden, just the way I remember him but better: an enhanced, time-lapsed version of the boy I used to know. He’s more handsome than he’s ever been, and I hate myself for noticing.
His gait is relaxed and carefree as we stroll down the runway, in sharp contrast with my apprehensive foot-dragging. Actually, he’stoolight and carefree. Knowing how he feels about flying, his blithe nonchalance is a glaring red flag, and my gut fires off a warning flare.
The unsettled feeling intensifies with every step as Ryder leads us toward the plane parked at the end of the runway. “I’m sorry to say we won’t be flying the same plane we used during filming, since I have no idea where they got it and I wouldn’t feel safe even trying to handle a plane that old,” he tells us, and my warning flare becomes a blaring fire alarm. “Hopefully you ladies won’t mind something a bit more modern.”
I stop dead in my tracks, bringing our little trio to a screeching halt. “I’m sorry, what?”
Ryder tilts his head in question. He’s the picture of innocence.
I squint at him.Am I still dreaming?“I must have misheard, because it sounded like you saidyouwere going to fly this plane.”
His face carves into a wide jack-o’-lantern grin. “I am.”
I stare at him, blinking once. Twice.He’s been dying to drop this bombshell. “Are you screwing with me?”
“Woo-hoo-hoo!” Millie hoots, fanning herself with a hand. “Now this is the Holden and Melody energy I was hoping for!”
I grit my teeth before a snarky comment I’ll regret can spillout. Ryder takes advantage of my temporary speechlessness to grab my non-Millie-occupied arm and propel me forward, my feet practically leaving skid marks on the pavement. “I have my pilot’s license.”
“You donothave your pilot’s license,” I insist stubbornly. The very idea is preposterous. “You freak out in planes.”
“Iused tofreak out in planes,” he corrects me. “Now I fly them.”
Millie practically swoons. “A man of many talents!”
We stop at the wing of the plane, but when Ryder gestures for us to climb aboard, I halt him with a hand. “I will not get into this aircraft until you explain what’s going on here.”
“I will,” Millie says gaily.
He can’t suppress his smile. He’s loving having the upper hand. “You want to see my credentials up close?” he says with a suggestive little smirk, and I would smack him if not for the spunky senior with a front-row seat to this shit show.
“You know what I’m asking,” I say evenly, my impatience clear. In essence:What the hell is going on? How do you go from crying in a plane to flying one?
His easygoing smile fades, and an emotion I can’t identify flashes across his face. “You’ve missed a lot these past ten years.”
I ignore the sting of shame that pokes at my conscience.Don’t let him get in your head. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “When you’re sober, you learn to seek out natural highs.”
