Page 51 of Never To Be Mine

That kiss had been incredible. Mind-blowing. The kind of kiss that made you forget your own name for a few seconds.

But it was also a massive mistake.

I couldn’t afford to let my personal feelings interfere with business. Working with Young at Heart could help scale up my company without me having to invest billions in building my own bottling facility and hiring staff to run it.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and dropped my head into my hands.

Maybe I should just apologize. Clear the air. Say it was a one-time thing, a moment of weakness, and it wouldn’t happen again.

Except that felt like a lie. Because given the chance, I absolutely wanted to do it again. I could tell her the attraction was real, but I would control myself in the future. That felt honest.

I grabbed my phone and checked the time. We needed to leave for the airport in about an hour. The plane was on standby, ready whenever we were.

I could delay the flight. Give her space. Give us both time to process what had happened before I crammed us into a metal tube thirty-thousand feet in the air.

But at some point, I was going to have to face her again. We had to continue working together. I might as well rip the band-aid off now.

I opened my messages and typed: Leaving for the airport in an hour. Meet in the lobby?

I stared at the message for a long moment before hitting send.

Then I waited. It would be a bad idea to go to her room and knock. I only had so much self-control. The last thing I needed was to get within ten feet of a bed with her.

Maybe she wasn’t going to respond. Knowing her stubborn ass, she’d fly commercial back to LA just to avoid being on a plane with me. If she told her father I made a move on her, he would be the one to kill the deal. The guy protected his daughter like a good father.

My phone chimed.

I grabbed it. It was a single thumbs up emoji. At least she wasn’t ignoring me completely. That was something.

I stood up and started gathering my things. I changed out of the suit and slipped into track pants, a T-shirt, and hoodie.

I had an hour to figure out what the hell I was going to say to her. An hour to come up with some explanation that didn’t make me sound like a complete creep.

I had nothing.

I took the elevator down to the lobby and settled into one of the plush chairs near the entrance where I could see the elevators. The lobby buzzed with activity around me. Tourists checking in, businesspeople hurrying through with their rolling suitcases, someone arguing with the concierge about restaurant reservations.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through emails. I still had no idea what the right approach to this disaster was. Cool and casual? Pretend it never happened? Address it head on?

The elevator dinged. My head snapped up.

A family with three screaming kids poured out. Not her. I forced myself to look back at my phone. Another ding announcing the elevator’s arrival.

I looked up and there she was, stepping out of the elevator.

She’d changed. Gone was the green dress that had been driving me insane all day. Now she wore jeans and a simple blouse, her hair pulled back, oversized sunglasses covering half her face even though we were indoors.

The sunglasses were a message. A wall. A very clear “don’t talk to me about what happened.”

I stood up as she approached, grabbing my garment bag.

“Ready?” Her voice was clipped. Professional. Like she was talking to a stranger.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

We walked out to the waiting car in silence. The driver took our bags, and I opened the door for her. She slid in without a word, pressing herself against the far side like I might be contagious. I climbed in after her and immediately regretted everything about this situation.

The drive to the airport felt like it lasted three years. She stared out the window the entire time, those damn sunglasses still on. I could feel the tension radiating off her in waves.