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SIMON
Ifinally was able to go to sleep after our hotel neighbours went at it like bunnies and then calmed. It wasn’t easy. That near kiss between me and Myka almost had me up for the rest of the night, or is it early morning since it was after three a.m.? Either way, neither of us were ready for the interview this morning. She did allow me to wear shades after seeing my eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.
After we finished the radio show, we went straight to Heathrow ready to board the plane to Miami. I have to admit, I do like coming to visit, but LA is my home now. And as long as Myka is there, it will always be. I look over and notice her taking long glances at me.
I wonder if she’s thinking about that almost lip lock too.
“See something you like?” I joke.
“What do you mean?”
“I see you looking at me. Must be wondering what my lips would feel like against yours.”
“No, I was actually trying to see if you were asleep. We’re about to board.” She closes her tablet and puts it away in her tote.
“Now boarding flight eleven twenty-eight to Miami, FL.,” the desk attendant announces.
Myka stands and strolls to the line, and now I’m the one with the long, engaging gazes. Mesmerized by the way her hips move confidently, yet sexy from left to right with each step she takes.
“Ay, bro. You ready?” my brother asks.
I’m a little surprised by his sudden appearance, or maybe I was preoccupied and didn’t notice. “Oh, I am more than ready,” I reply, Sebastian not knowing what I am speaking about.
We casually join the line with the others.
“Me too. I love Miami. All the babes in their bikinis with their bums out. A wonderful part of the south, that’s for sure.”
“They do the same in LA, too. Besides, I thought you were sweet on Myka’s assistant, Amber.” I inquire while we walk down the Jetway.
“She is a sweet girl, but I don’t know. She seems to have this head-over-heels thing about relationships, and I’m not ready to marry anyone anytime soon.”
“Who said she wants any of that? Did she?”
“No. She just talks about how hard she loves, and I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Cause you're just a douchebag, right?” His fist meets the upper part of my shoulder.
“That is your title, sir. I treat women with dignity and respect. Meanwhile, you use them for what’s between their legs and then ship ’em off till the next one arrives.”
“I haven’t done that in a few weeks, and I don’t ship ‘em off. I send them home with a little money for their time.”
“That’s treating them like hookers, Simon.”
“No, a hooker is someone who you actually negotiate the terms of an arrangement with before having sex. I don’t negotiate when I’m about to fuck someone. I follow the motto of that shoe company.”
Myka stares at us, her brows lifted while we put our carry-ons in the overhead storage.
I take my seat next to her and Sebastian takes the one in front of our section. “Did you miss me?” I ask humorously.
She looks away, shaking her head. “Simon, you are incorrigible.”
“What are you trying to blame on me now, Myka?”
She closes a magazine she was browsing and lets out an exhausted sigh. “You do women like the shoe company? What kind of shit is that?”
“I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. We were talking about relationships, and he made a comment about me treating women like prostitutes. I simply explained that I don’t sleep with them after negotiating a fee—that is the difference between the girls I date and women who fuck as a profession.”
“But giving them money afterward may make them feel...cheap. Or like a whore. Do you ever think about that?”
