He’s quiet, and for once, I don’t have any idea what he’s thinking.
I glance away, staring out the window, my eyes burning, threatening me with tears that I refuse to shed in front of him. The last thing I want is for Ashton to see me cry. I bite down on my bottom lip, hoping the pain will stop the emotional torture.
His hand is warm, gentle, soft as he grazes my arm to get my attention.
I should shuck him off me, but I don’t. Just like last night, having him in my bed was comforting. My eyes shut, avoiding so much as looking at him as I face the open window shade of the jet, and I know if we were seated anywhere else, he’d be pulling me onto his lap, cradling me.
I’m grateful for the individual leather seat, keeping him from scooting over next to me, forcing our bodies to touch.
I keep my back to him. One hand is on my arm, the other tangles in the nape of my neck, massaging my scalp, tugging my hair slightly, and fuck, his touch is a turn-on. The way his hands command my body, making my insides warm and tingly.
I hate him for it.
I want to scream at him to get off of me, but the words don’t come.
Anger sizzles in silence to nothingness.
His hand keeps kneading my neck, fisting my hair, tugging in a sensual maneuver that sends my pussy pulsating.
My breathing deepens and grows raspier. I pray he doesn’t notice the change, the intensity from anger to arousal.
I feel his presence, the heat of his body as he leans forward, his breath against my ear. “Want to join the mile-high club?”
For a fraction of a second, a tiny smile reaches my lips because, yes, I really do. But I shove it down and spin around, pushing him backward out of my personal space, including my seat. “In your dreams.”
Ashton smirks, and I want so desperately to reach across and wipe that smug grin off his face. “You’re always in my dreams, babe.”
I pull back my fist to land a blow for calling me babe when we’re broken up, and he grabs my wrist, stopping me. “When did you become so violent?” He’s taunting me. “For someone who wants nothing to do with the mafia, you seem quite—invested.”
“Because my father is dying and my best friend is missing!”
I wince when I feel multiple sets of eyes on me. Those who aren’t glancing back at me are definitely listening. It’s not like I’ve been quiet this flight.
I grumble under my breath, unbuckle my seatbelt and stalk to the restroom at the back of the airplane.
It’s the only place I can get a little peace and quiet without Ashton interfering.
Correction.
Someone is knocking on the door to the bathroom.
“Seriously?” Can’t he take a hint and leave me the hell alone?
“It’s Rhys.” There’s another knock. “You okay, or do you want me to knock some sense into him?”
I slowly open the bathroom door, offering a weak smile. “I’m okay.” I’m not sure I’m convincing him, and I definitely am not convincing myself I’m fine. I’m a mess! I meet his gaze for a fraction of a second before I gesture for him to step aside because he’s blocking the aisle.
“You know, Dante hired me to protect you. That includes from college-aged boys and ex-boyfriends.”
I chuckle under my breath. “I really doubt that’s why Dante brought you back.”
“He wants me as your full-time bodyguard,” Rhys says, and I nod slowly. I always liked Rhys. Not in a romantic, love interest type of way, more like he let me sneak off and get away with practically anything. And as far as I know, he never told Dad the shit I got into.
“Yeah, full-time until Harper is home.” I’m not entirely surprised, a little that Rhys is back, but Dante and Dad have always trusted him with their lives and with mine.
Rhys gives me that if you say so stare, and I can’t help but cock my head. “Do you know something you’re not telling me?”
He laughs under his breath. “I know a lot of things, none of which are leaving this mouth.” He points at his lips. “Besides, I heard you have no interest in joining the family business. Surprised Dante even let you on this flight.”
