Another day and another round of NYC to Birmingham flights.
Normally, I wouldn’t have minded it at all. But today, I was annoyed. Internally irritated that my flight schedule had gotten in the way of seeing Quinn in all of his quarterback glory.
Sure, I didn’t really like football. But I did like Quinn. If I was being completely honest with myself, I’d probably use a different, more encompassing word to describe how I truly felt about him.
Love.
But I wasn’t ready to verbally say that word to him. Not without the cushion of “I think” in front of it, at least. Hell, I was having a hard enough time keeping my girlish impulses of planning out my dream wedding and naming future kids under control.
I’d gone all Cinderella Lifetime movie marriage in my thoughts, and I wasn’t sure that was the best-case scenario for me or my heart. We were still so new. If our relationship was a child, we’d said our first words, but we hadn’t really taken our first steps together.
I hadn’t even been to his house yet, which I tried to tell myself had nothing to do with him not wanting to let me all the way in, and was more of a timing and scheduling issue. But I didn’t really know. How could I? I wasn’t inside his mind or hearing his thoughts.
And I hadn’t met his family either. But that statement was true in the reverse. The only thing my parents knew about Quinn occurred between the pages of tabloid magazines and ESPN.
When it came to the uberfamous quarterback, who just so happened to be my current boyfriend, I needed to keep my outlook realistic.
I needed to keep all of my future tense daydreams true-to-life—no weddings or babies or professions of love. I just needed to focus on the day-to-day and enjoying our relationship for what it currently was—in the early stages.
“Excuse me, Cat?” a female passenger in 6B caught my attention.
“Can I help you with something?” I asked as I moved down the aisle and stood beside the woman’s seat. She smiled up at me, her brown eyes soft and gentle yet still encompassing confidence and self-assurance. Young and attractive, she couldn’t have been a day over thirty.
“I have something for you,” she responded and nodded toward the small package she held out toward me with her right hand.
“You have something for me?” I furrowed my brow. Unless it was complaints, drink requests, or disasters in the bathroom, it wasn’t exactly the norm for passengers to come bearing gifts.
“Yep. Definitely for you.” She nodded and shook the box in her hand a little—a universal gesture for take it.
Hesitantly, I took it. “I’m not trying to come across as rude right now, but should I know who you are?”
She grinned. “Probably. We have a mutual acquaintance. Although, I’m pretty sure you enjoy his company a lot more than I do.”
I didn’t really know how to respond to that. An acquaintance? Who could I possibly know that she knew?
“Quinn Bailey,” she offered, and I tilted my head to the side. “I’m Jillian, his personal assistant.”
“Oh,” I said, and my mouth formed a perfect little O.
“And,” she continued with a soft smile, “to be honest, this was a nice change of pace from my usual tasks of cleaning up after him and making sure he’s where he needs to be at all times. Which, you’d think that’d be an easy assignment, but Quinn is sometimes impossibly stubborn.”
“But doesn’t he have a game today?” I asked and looked at the time on my watch. “Like, right now, to be exact?”
She shrugged. “He does, but he wanted me here. This was his number one priority for today.”
“This was his number one priority? Delivering this package?” I glanced down at the small cardboard box in my hands. “To me?”
I was Quinn’s priority number one for today. On a game day?
My brain honestly didn’t know what to do with that information. It was stuck between two very strong reactions: tap-dancing down the aisle like a loon or swooning right out of my heels and falling face first onto the rough, most likely bacteria-infested carpet of the aisle.
“Yep,” she responded with a smile.
A shocked laugh left my lips. “Wait…” I paused when the seat belt sign dinged off once we’d reached our intended altitude. “You do realize you’re now stuck on a flight to Birmingham, right?”
“I have plenty of music and books on my iPad to keep me occupied. Plus, I didn’t agree to this task without getting paid a little extra. Honestly, I should probably be thanking you.” She winked, and a little grin crested her pretty pink lips. “I’ll finally be able to buy that Michael Kors purse I’ve had my eye on for months now.”
A quiet laugh fell off my tongue. “Girl, if it’s the Cynthia, I will be so jealous. I saw that purse in Bloomingdale’s and started drooling in the middle of the handbags.”
I’d spotted the Cynthia after Casey had basically dragged me to Bloomingdale’s on one of our rare off days. She was gorgeous, all soft pink leather and gold accents, but a little more expensive than what I normally spent on handbags.
“Oh, I love the Cynthia, but I need something smaller to use on date nights,” she said. “My sights are set on the Ruby.”
Michael Kors’s newest quilted leather clutch, it was a kick-ass choice.
“Tell me you’re going for the gold one instead of the black or silver…”
“Of course. Without question, gold is always the way to go.” She winked and then nodded toward the unopened box. “Anyway, enough about my handbag obsession. I think it’s time for you to open that box.”
I glanced down at it, and slowly, amusement kissed my lips with a smile. “I guess I’ll go do that now.”
“Good plan.” Jillian grinned. “You can find me here, reading this book one of my friends demanded for me to read.” She held up her iPad, and I could see the sleek orange cover of Bright Side on her screen.
My eyes grew wide in surprise. I loved that book. Kim Holden’s words were pure magic.
Bright Side was the kind of book that even after you’d finished reading it, its mark was still engraved on your heart. It just…changed you. In the very best way.
“Girl, get tissues and be prepared for an epic, amazing, love-filled, all-consuming ride.”
“That good?”
“Trust me,” I said. “Your friend was right. You need to read it.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you from the start,” she said with a little secret smile, and then she swiped to the first page of Bright Side and started reading.
Liked me from the start? Was Quinn gossiping about me to his assistant?
Weirdly enough, I smiled at the thought.
With the box still clutched in my hands, I walked to the small, yet perfectly hidden confines of the first-class galley and rested my ass on a ledge near the window. Without anyone around to watch, I peeled the tape off the box and opened it.
Inside, rested a small, folded-up piece of paper, and below that, a freaking inhaler.
A laugh escaped my lips at the sight.
Cheeky bastard. I had a feeling the blow job turned asthma attack would be an inside joke he’d never let die.
I unfolded the paper and read the note silently.
My cute little kitten,
Please be nice to Jillian. Give her an extra cookie or something during the flight. She wasn’t too thrilled when I asked her to fly back and forth to Birmingham just to deliver a package to my girlfriend. And, in order to get her to agree, I’m pretty sure I’m providing a shopping spree to Macy’s or something…
My assistant is a ballbuster, I tell ya.
Anyway, eventually, after a solid negotiation, she was kind enough to deliver this to you for me. Not sure if she mentioned it, but this little box was priority number one for the day.
Now, I’m not sure if you remember, but I play football for the New York Mavericks. That’s an NFL team, Kitten.
What a smartass, I thought to myself but kept reading, an immovable smile on my lips the entire time.
And NFL stands for National Football League, otherwise known as the professional league for American football. It’s kind of a big deal.
Let’s see what else can I tell you about football…
There are four quarters in a game. And the quarterback (that’s me) throws the ball, and sometimes when I’m feeling frisky, even runs the ball.
While you’re reading this, I’m in the middle of a game. I’ve already thrown for two touchdowns, and it isn’t even halftime yet. Yes, I know while I’m writing this it is just a prediction, but trust me, I know those two touchdowns are now facts.
God, I loved his confidence. I imagined it was why Quinn Bailey was a household name in football.
Right this very second, Pittsburgh is wondering what to do with themselves. They’ll try to adjust their defense, but it won’t work.
By the way, a touchdown is how you score points in a football game. It’s worth six points, and if our kicker is doing what he’s supposed to, he converted the field goal for an extra point, which has brought us to seven points.
And since I said two touchdowns, we are beating Pittsburgh by 14 right now.
I know, it’s a lot to wrap your cute little brain around, but we’ll get there.
A soft giggle left my lips. I’d probably never understand football, but for Quinn, I’d try.
But, guess what? I didn’t just write you this little note to talk about football.
I wanted to tell you I miss you. Yes, kitten, I miss you.
And, even though I’m in the middle of a game right now, I’m thinking about you.
But that shouldn’t be a surprise. Lately, your sexy little ass is always on my mind.
I can’t wait to see you again.
I can’t wait to kiss you and hold your hand and just be all cute and shit with you.
Your adorable boyfriend, (Admit it, I’m fucking adorable.)
Quinn
P.S. The inhaler is a “just in case” kind of thing because I plan on ravaging your sexy ass the second you’re back in New York. And let’s face it, we know what happens sometimes when you get all worked up. ;)
I held the note to my chest, and I sighed. And believe me, if that sigh could talk, she would ramble on and on about Quinn in a girly, dreamy, head-over-heels voice.
This man, he was the perfect amount of sweet and adorable yet knew all of the right moments to be sarcastic and cocky and sexy and alpha as fuck.
He wanted to ravage me once I got back to New York?
Um, yes, please.
Before Casey trotted his nosy ass into the galley, I hurriedly folded the note back up and slipped it into my jacket pocket, along with the inhaler, and tossed the small box into the trash.
For some reason, when it came to Quinn, I was territorial over all of our sweet and adorable moments and inside jokes. Hell, I guessed I was pretty fucking territorial over our hot and sexy moments too. Even the ones that ended in asthma attacks and tears.
I just didn’t really want anyone else to be in on the secret, I guessed.
It was things like these, like the cute note he’d managed to have hand-delivered to me on my flight, that felt too damn special to share with anyone else.
It’s because this is love.
Yeah. That’s was probably exactly why.
God, I wanted to see him. But the opportunity wouldn’t present itself for a few more days. I wished this flight was a one-off and straight back to NYC for a few days, but unfortunately for me, it wasn’t.
Once I arrived in Birmingham, I’d fly back to NYC, then back to Birmingham again, where I’d have the pleasure of an overnight in a Marriott.
I wouldn’t make my final leg back home to New York until the very next afternoon where I could finally enjoy some much-needed time off. Well, time off in the form of one day before I’d need to head to Cincinnati for training, but still, it was time off.
And one full day to be ravaged by Quinn…
Yes. That. I needed that.
The flights had felt long, and the passengers tired and cranky, and by the time I’d made it back to Birmingham—for the second time today—it was nearing midnight and my ass was practically dragging on the floor.
Bright and early, my day had started at nearly six in the morning, and now, I was more than ready to call it a fucking night.
“Thanks for flying with us,” I said goodbye to passengers as they walked out the main doors. “Have a nice night.”
Casey stood beside me, doing the same, until the last two passengers managed to get themselves off the plane safely.
“What do you think, Cat? You ready to get some drinks?” Casey questioned as he walked up and down the aisles, double-checking all of the seats and overhead bins.
“Hell no,” I responded without a second thought. “I’m going straight to the hotel, checking in, getting my ass a hot shower, and calling it a night. I’m dead on my feet.”
“Oh, come on, girl,” he retorted with a smirk. “You’re twenty-four, not sixty-four. All you need is a Red Bull or something, and you’ll get a second wind.”
“I don’t want a second wind. I don’t want any wind unless it’s from my freaking hair dryer after my hot shower.”
He huffed and frowned and flashed puppy dog eyes in my direction.
Normally, those things would make me cave, but not tonight.
Tonight, I didn’t care. I wanted a shower and a bed.
“Not gonna work,” I answered as I shut off all of the power in the front and back galleys. “I’m going to walk my ass off this plane and go straight to the hotel, where I will be getting twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep, and there isn’t a damn thing you, or anyone else, for that matter, can do to change my mind.”
I guessed the flights and missing Quinn were making me a bit grumpy.
“Well, okay, sassy pants.” He grinned and handed my carry-on to me. “I guess I’ll have to hang out with Captain Billy tonight.”
“Good plan,” I agreed, and Casey just laughed.
“All right, I think we’re all set for you to leave this plane and give your best impression of an old lady. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect. Let’s hit it.” I nodded, and side by side, we walked off the plane and down the long hallway until we reached the now empty area that was Gate C2.
The instant my heels reached the tiled floor of the terminal, I stopped, dead in my tracks, and my lips parted in outright surprise.
There he stood, my boyfriend, in all of his smiling glory.
Quinn.
My heart pounded rapidly in my chest, like it was trying to escape from my body and crawl into his.
A vision in sweat pants, a gray hoodie, and shaggy hair hidden beneath a ball cap, and I’d never seen anything better in my entire life.
He started to walk toward me, his smile getting bigger with each step, and I felt like my breath was stolen straight from my lungs.
“I have a feeling someone is a little liar who isn’t going to be getting any sleep tonight,” Casey teased, but I ignored him.
I couldn’t do anything but smile. Right at Quinn.
Before I even drew in the air my body needed, I was dropping my carry-on and purse to the floor and running straight at him until I crashed right into his strong arms and melted into his muscular form. “Kitty Cat,” he whispered, the nickname enveloping me in its warmth.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I whispered. Beneath his sweatshirt, I felt his firm torso and his strong and steady heartbeat within his chest. He folded his hands around my back, drawing me in closer, until he lifted me off the ground and swung us around in a circle.
I knew I’d missed him, but I hadn’t realized how much.
Until now.
Being without him was hard.
And being with him was starting to feel a lot like home.