Page 84 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

I felt heat crawl over my body, and it had nothing to do with the sun. “There’s nothing going on.”

“Uh-huh.” Laser’s voice was thick with amusement. “And I’m the Queen of England.”

I sighed, knowing there was no point in lying to her. She’d seen right through me. “Okay, fine. There was a thing. But it’s not a thing.”

Laser burst out laughing. “Oh my God, listen to yourself. What the hell does that even mean?”

I groaned and covered my face with my hands. “It means we hooked up a couple of times, but we’re not dating. We’re just… I don’t know what we are.”

“Fucking,” Laser said bluntly. “You’re fucking.”

“Damn, Laser. Could you say it a little louder? I don’t think they heard you in the next county.”

She was still chuckling. “Sorry, but seriously, Janna. You sound ridiculous. Either you’re together or you’re not. There’s no middle ground with guys like Dalton.”

“We agreed to keep it casual,” I said, peeking through my fingers at her. “No strings attached. Just physical.”

“And how’s that working out for you?”

I thought about yesterday—the way he’d come back for me when I was struggling with the flight. And the unhinged sex in the room.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” I said. “We just made that decision. It’s not a big deal. Not really.”

“He’s sexy,” she said. “The ladies love him.”

I felt a jab of jealousy.

She laughed. “Relax. I’m not chasing him. And for what it’s worth, he doesn’t usually chase the ladies. I’m just saying, he’s hot.”

I sighed. “Yes, he is.”

“Why are the pretty ones always so complicated?” Cheryl said with her own sigh.

I looked over again and it wasn’t just Dalton watching us. Pickle was there as well. He looked like he wanted to devour Cheryl.

“I’m not the only one being watched,” I said.

“Trust me, honey, he’s not looking at me.”

“Not him. Pickle.”

“What?”

Cheryl turned her head and grinned when she spotted Pickle. “Oh,” she said.

I turned to face her with a bright smile. “Do you have some secrets of your own?”

Laser looked genuinely surprised, like she’d never noticed his glances before. “You think so? Really?” She lifted her sunglasses and looked back toward the hangar where Pickle was still standing with Dalton. “Pickle?”

“Are you serious right now?” I laughed. “The man has been staring at you for the past ten minutes like you’re a cold beer on a hot day.”

She studied him for a moment, then looked back at me with a puzzled expression. “I thought he was just… I don’t know, being friendly?”

“Friendly?” I snorted. “Laser, the guy practically drools every time you walk into a room. How have you not noticed this?”

She was quiet for a moment, processing. I could see the wheels turning in her head as she probably replayed every interaction she’d had with Pickle over the past few weeks. “But he’s so… Pickle.”

I laughed. “Is that a bad thing?”