A strange rush ran through him. Thinking about continuing his contact with Skylar afforded him a pleasant sensation. After suffering several high-profile breakups, Dash had quickly caught onto the fact there were always more than enough parasites to go around. Most were waiting to make a quick buck with a bogus lawsuit or a false positive pregnancy test. He'd seen it happen to other guys in other bands. Compared to them, he, quite literally, kept himself clean. Nothing snorted up his nose or shot in his veins, not to mention no sex without a raincoat. He didn't have time for any of that shit. These days he was all about the money game. How to plant it and how to grow it. Life on the road was hard. If he kept on the path he'd been following, he'd be able to reap the benefits of investing well while he was still young enough to enjoy it.
While musing through all these thoughts had kept him occupied, it hadn't kept him from stealing a few glances in the cutie's direction. Dash kept an eye on her, his gaze drifting to the side of his laptop screen to snatch a few more details about her. Her eyes were big and blue, of that he was well aware. They’d hit him like a bolt of lightning the first time she’d looked at him. Her hair was long and brown with a bunch of loose waves. When she’d pulled it out of the makeshift bun she had on the top of her head, he’d admired her tousled mane even more. Currently, she was pulling it to the side and twisting the curls into submission by combing them with her fingers. Her lashes were thick and dark and fluttered beautifully against her pale skin. When she laughed, she closed her eyes. It was as if she took a moment to savor whatever it was that had delighted her. She was definitely more “the girl next door” than someone who'd sneak into the bathroom for a quick fuck. Hell, no. She had that Bambi-look, all wide-eyed and innocent.
He looked back at his screen. The latest tabloid news had a front-page picture of Ian with seven or eight girls hanging on him. Though he knew it was a different photo, they all looked the same no matter what paper was using Ian for sales. Ian's girls all had bleached blonde hair, heavy, black eye makeup, and a hard edge. Most were so skinny their bones nearly poked through their skin. The guys always joked that Ian’s had as many girls as he had coins in his pocket, and they were just as loose. For a cover story, those women didn't give a shit about privacy. In a hotel room or the band bus, they were happy to spread their legs or give a blow job as long as the payout was right. As Dash sneaked another look at America's sweetheart sitting across from him, he was glad she didn't know who he was right now. It might better his chances with her.
"Flight 1013 to Tampa will now be boarding at Gate C-26." The announcement over the PA system had her looking over in his direction.
"This is us. Thanks for coming to my rescue." Her blue eyes were gleaming. Sunlight coming through the window caught them as she bent at the waist. She was still smiling at him as she closed her laptop. The effect highlighted the silver within the blue. It shot a bullet of desire through his heart.
"Not a problem. Glad I could help." Suddenly, he remembered that he didn't know her name. He set out to remedy the situation. "By the way, I'm Darren. Most people call me Dash."
"Skylar Harrison." A delicate shrug shook her shoulders. "Also known as Eden Skye. You know, in case you want to read a sexy romance novel." The information was accompanied by a soft laugh. "I know you asked me my name before, but I honestly can't remember if I answered you. I was a little discombobulated at the time."
The tiny confession, so honest and sincere, made him suddenly want to be her priest. At least then he could discover if there were any sins within the heart she, so obviously, wore on her sleeve. He found himself wanting to assure her that her clumsiness had no bearing on his opinion of her.
"You're fine. You aren't the first person to spill coffee in this place, and I'm pretty sure you won't be the last." His words of consolation brought forth another smile, accomplishing the ease he’d intended.
"It was nice talking to you." She turned back toward her editor, whom she referred to as Vince. The two quickly gathered their belongings, and he did the same. He watched them line up according to their boarding position, all the while trying to see where an opportunity might arise to talk to her again. Skylar was lost in conversation with Vince, unaware he was enjoying the feast his observation brought. He intended to look for any chance to get her to remember him.
As he passed her in line, she gifted him a shy smile making his chest ache and his heart squeeze. He didn't know how she did it, but he couldn't remember any woman having the same effect on him. Unconsciously, he rubbed the spot. Yeah, this one was special. Hopefully, by the time they landed, her embarrassment from the earlier clusterfuck would be behind her.
Chapter 4
Though he usually thought himself lucky, today, he felt he was even more so. A seat across the aisle from Skylar was the opportunity he needed to have a perfect view of her for the entire flight. Looking up, with his eyes toward the sky, he thanked his good fortune. She looked over at him with a shy flutter of lashes and a graceful smile on her lips. As a passenger held up the line with a luggage struggle, he shifted in his seat, leaning in her direction so he could talk to her across the aisle. "The way you're looking at me says that you’re still self-conscious about dropping your stuff in the airport. You need to let it go."
Her tone was hushed. "I didn’t realize I was so transparent.” Doubt showed in the shrug of her shoulders. “Thanks for saying that. I do still feel weird about it, but it’s nice of you to try to make me feel better."
"It could've happened to anyone, sweetheart,” he consoled her. “Don't be so hard on yourself."
"Sorry to disappoint you, but that's an understatement. I'm always harder on myself than anyone could ever be."
Pink bloomed in her cheeks making him frown. It wasn't right that someone so perfect was so self-critical. She couldn’t see how rare, but how wrong, that trait was. Though he might not know her well, even he could see Skylar’s perfectionistic qualities. As if to prove his point, she lowered the tray on the back of the seat in front of her and began to type away on her laptop. It was a sure sign she took her work seriously. That fact alone put her above more than a quarter of the population of the United States.
Dash looked at his phone, though he wasn’t really paying attention to it. With his chin dropped down, his eyes tipped up, and as he stole occasional glances across the aisle, he made mental notes.
Where he usually took time spent in the air as an opportunity to sleep, he was confident he wouldn't be doing any of that on this flight. Instead, he would look for chances to interact with Skylar. That odd pulling sensation he had toward her grew more potent by the minute. He couldn't explain it. The best he could come up with was the feeling he had when an Eric Clapton guitar went up for auction. The minute he looked at it, he knew it was supposed to be his. Many people had tried to outbid him at that charity auction, but he hadn’t stopped until he’d gotten what he wanted. He won that Clapton guitar. He intended to win Skylar too.
It wasn't a long flight, but it was enough time to think of something clever to get her number or ask her out for coffee. He watched her, looking up from his laptop throughout the first hour of the flight. For the past five minutes, she’d been rummaging through the bag that had been tucked under the seat in front of her. He leaned over the arm of his chair. "Missing something?"