Page 73 of Lucky Shot

And Alexander Hardy most definitely won’t be around. He has a team waiting for him across the ocean. A whole life. So why let myself get attached? Why let myself feel, when he too will be gone in no time?

So yes, I panicked and slipped out of the room before he woke.

I needed to put some distance between me and these thoughts. I needed to knock myself back to the only reality I’ll allow myself to know.

Because isn’t the one thing I crave more than anything, the same thing that I push away out of fear?

And Alexander Hardy represents both.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Hardy

It’s my ego’s fault.

That’s why I’m standing at the arrivals terminal at Miami International Airport, trying to hide my identity from other travelers as I wait for the passengers who just disembarked from their flight out of LaGuardia.

Definitely my ego’s fault that I thought about her my entire flight home and wondered why she passed up a ride on a private jet simply to avoid me.

Last night happened, right? She was in that lace and I fisted my cock? I know it did because I woke to her scent still on my hand but alone in her bed, wondering where the hell she was.

I spot her coming down the escalator and fight the urge to go to her. If I do, no doubt I’ll be spotted, so I step outside and sit on the bench to wait for her to exit.

It only takes a few minutes before she walks out of the doors.

“Glad to see you made it home safely,” I say.

She freezes. Her shoulders sag briefly but rise back up before she turns around to face me. “Hardy. Hi.”

“I figured you might need a ride home.”

“I’m good. I don’t need—”

“Yes, you do.” I rise from my seat without giving her an option. “Shall we?”

She stands there and looks at me, obviously not thrilled with the idea of me being here.

Like I give a fuck.

We walk to the car park in silence. She trudges in protest but doesn’t say a word. This is how she wants to play this? Fine.

We’ll do it my way then.

I take her bag from her, put it in the back of my car next to mine, and toss the baseball hat I was wearing in too. But before she goes to open the passenger side door, I click the locks so she can’t.

“Christ, Hardy. Open the door. I have to get to the academy.”

“And I’ll get you there after we have a little chat.”

“What if I say no?”

I cross my arms over my chest, lean against the concrete stem wall next to my car, and stare at her. “Then we wait.”

“Fine.” She picks up her phone and taps away at the screen. “I just ordered a rideshare.”

“Be my guest. Anything to escape confrontation, huh? No worries. We’ll chat while we wait.”

“You’re acting like a child,” she huffs.