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“So we’re just going to keep showing up until he’ll have a proper meeting with you?”
“Something like that.” Jet grimaces as he drains his glass. “I hate him for having the upper hand. But he won’t for long. Like I said, Ava. I always get what I want. I play to win.”
The grit in his voice piques my interest. I enjoy winding him up. Seeing the dangerous flicker in his eyes has heat rushing in my veins. With me, it’s a game, I know that. But this? This is deadly serious.
And there’s something captivating about Jet Grant when he looks like he’s willing to burn anyone who stands in the way of him getting what he wants.
“Miss Roberts?”
I look up into the male flight attendant’s eyes.
“Yes?”
“I’m Connor. This way, please. We have a different seat for you for takeoff.”
“Oh?”
My heartrate kicks up a notch as I grab my bottle of herbal pills and shove them into my purse. I haven’t taken any yet. I was just about to do it but held off, wondering where Jet is. I haven’t seen him since the departure gate. He pulled aside one of the airline’s ground staff as I boarded our flight back to London and told me to go ahead.
I managed the flight here, but I’d be much calmer if the grumpy ass was sitting beside me again. Just knowing I’m not alone is all I need.
Sweat prickles along my hairline.I don’t want to feel alone.
I follow the flight attendant to the front of the first-class cabin and into the plane’s galley.
“Is Mr. Grant sitting where I’m moving to?” I ask, trying to conceal the anxious tremor in my voice.
“He is.” Connor gives me a warm smile, then walks to the open cockpit door and says something to the pilots.
I glance around nervously as a member of ground staff exits the cockpit with a tablet in his hand and says something to the flight attendant standing by the open door where the last few passengers are boarding. I don’t see Jet among them.
I wipe my clammy hands on my skirt as Connor calls me.
“Miss Roberts. You can come and take your seat now.”
I inch closer to him, stepping inside the cockpit and spying the controls. There are buttons, levers, and lights everywhere, stretching up and over the ceiling.
“I don’t understand.”
“Take this one here.” Connor points to a seat on the left-hand side behind the pilots.
I drop into it.
“See you in the air,” he calls to the back of the pilot’s heads.
The one on the right lifts a hand in response and then looks at me.
“I’m Brock. Nice to meet you.”
I take his offered hand in a daze and shake it.
“Ava,” I say.
The pilot on the left—in the Captain’s seat—turns, pinning his blue gaze on me.
“We need to make our runway slot. Fasten your harness.”
I stare back at Jet, my eyes dropping over the uniform he’s changed into. There are four gold stripes on his shirt’s epaulets.
