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But I’m not fast enough. She backs away and then breaks off into a sprint in the other direction. I try to run after her, but she’s quicker. I lose her as she weaves through the crowd.
It’s too late. She saw the kiss. How am I going to convince her that I want nothing to do with Adelaide and that it was all a PR stunt?
I now know the only thing worse than falling in love with my best friend’s sister is breaking her heart.
Chapter 16
Stella
Firstclassisnofun when you’re depressed. It doesn’t matter how many complimentary drinks they offer you or how much legroom you have. None of it makes up for a hole in your heart.
The image of Adelaide and Flynn is scored on my brain. I close my eyes and I can see it, the two of them locked in an embrace, lips pressed in a needy kiss.
In hindsight, I guess it’s my fault I saw it. I went after both of them after Flynn made his sudden exit, followed by Adelaide. I knew something was up. I just thought it had more to do with her egging him on or being cruel.
Not… whatever this was.
I watched Adelaide get closer and closer until I was elbowed out of the way by the paparazzi so they could get their shot for their magazines.
They weren’t fast enough, though. I saw the moment their lips connected as clear as day, not blinded by the camera flash.
I’ve had to remind myself dozens of times since just last night that Adelaide was the purpose of my being here. Whatever came up between Flynn and me was a mistake. It was always about her.
Beside me, a woman is reading a British gossip magazine with the image of Flynn and Adelaide on the front. I try not to look at it, but it’s impossible.Reunited and it feels so MESSYreads the cover.You can say that again…
The moment Flynn saw me, I could tell he had regret. But was it regret for kissing her or regret for being caught? I wasn’t going to stick around and hear his excuses. It would just remind me of all the things I’ve never been able to stand about him. The entitlement. The pretension. The lack of concern about anyone but himself.
That wasn’t the Flynn I fell in love with though, was it? Was that man even real?
I bury my face in my palm and blink. Tears slide down my cheeks for the billionth time since last night. God, it’s embarrassing. I’m so tired of crying over a man who has only ever cared about what I could do for him.
Not about who I am.
“Oh, dear, are you crying?” the woman beside me asks.
“No, no, I’m fine. I’m –”
“Pish!” She drops the magazine on the armrest between us and starts to shuffle around in her purse. “Don’t need to pretend around me, dearie. All is fair in love and plane travel. Let me get you a tissue.”
As she rustles around in her bag, I can’t help but stare at the magazine. It’s opened to a picture of Flynn and me on the bow of the boat. I’m lying on my side, back to the camera. I wince at how my bikini bottom is half stuck in my ass. Flynn is facing me, adjusting a lock of my hair, face clear to the camera. The caption of the picture reads, “Taken isn’t a word in Flynn Madden’s vocabulary.”
My eyes well with more tears, and I start to sob.
“Oh, hold on, I’ve almost got them. Don’t you worry your pretty head.” The woman finally finds a smushed packet of Kleenex and hands them to me. “Here, all for you.”
“Th-thank y-y-you,” I warble, ripping the package open and blowing my nose.
“There, there, dear. You want to tell me about it?”
I shake my head. “Nothing to tell.”
The older woman sighs heavily. “I’ve been there. Been there indeed. Well, that’s alright. You just cry it out.”
She rubs my back softly as I weep. It’s very comforting.
Until she starts to chuckle to herself and nods toward the magazine. “Take a little comfort that whatever you’re dealing with isn’t what we read about in the tabloids, eh?”
And just like that, the floodgates open right up again.
