SKY
Oh, please, God, no, I grumbled under my breath as I neared the departure gate at the terminal, rolling my carry-on behind me.
River Santos, the world’s cockiest and most gorgeous captain, was sitting in one of the chairs, alerting me to the fact that he would be flying our plane tonight. I almost started bargaining with the Almighty, asking for anyone but River to take the controls, but knew it would be no use.
The airport was already tumultuous enough. An impending storm had canceled multiple flights, and the aftermath was all around me in the form of screaming babies and frustrated passengers just trying to get home. I knew that if our plane actually got cleared to take off, it was going to be a bumpy ride. In more ways than one.
I took the precious few moments before River noticed me nearing to really study him. It wasn’t something I usually allowed myself to do. Mostly because he was always paying attention to us flight attendants and trying to eavesdrop on our conversations. We were a gossipy bunch. But if the pilots didn’t give us such good material to work with, then we’d have nothing to talk about. Basically, it was their own faults that they were our favorite topics of discussion.
River used to date my friend and fellow flight attendant Stacy. At least, that was what she always told me. But that was before I started working for the airline. He was the first pilot Stacy had warned me about, telling me that he was as typical as they came. A man-whore who slept with half the staff and left a trail of broken hearts in his wake, hers included.
She had told me to stay away from him. And me, being the good rule-following friend that I was, had listened to her. I didn’t want to make things at work uncomfortable, and crossing that line with River would definitely do that. Stacy clearly wasn’t over him even though she claimed that she was. I saw the way she looked at him whenever they happened to cross paths and I was around. Her eyes lit up like he’d hung the moon and stars, and she acted like a lovestruck teenager, just waiting to be noticed.
Why is he so freaking hot? It’s not fair.
Just watching him annoyed me. He looked so at ease, sitting in a sea of frantic people, lost in his own world, typing something on his phone. His pilot’s hat was sitting in his lap, and his stupid dark hair was perfectly gelled into place, per usual. That man never had a bad hair day. It wasn’t in his DNA—or in the gel he probably owned stock in.
I took two more steps, and I swore that man could feel whenever I was close to him. He looked up slowly, like we were in some kind of movie, his deep blue eyes roving up the length of my body until he reached my face. A smirk appeared.
“Well, well,” he said before locking eyes with mine, stopping me in my tracks. “I get to have you tonight, Sky?”
I snapped my jaw shut and ground my teeth together, attempting to stop whatever sarcastic remark was about to come out of my mouth. It was all in vain. I couldn’t help it. River’s existence made me snarky.
“You’ll never get to have me,” I sniped.
He gave me a wink before adding, “So you keep saying.”
“At least I’m consistent.”
“No, Sky. You’re a challenge,” he said before licking his lips, and I pretended not to be the least bit affected by that calculated move. “Men live for a challenge.”
“Good thing I don’t see any men around here then,” I lied, glancing around the chaotic terminal to prove my point.
River laughed, a full-on attention-drawing howl, before pushing out of his seat and hovering above me. All six feet three of him. I held my breath as he leaned down, his lips inches from my ear.
“You’re not my type anyway.”
Thankfully, most everyone was distracted by all the cancellations and delays. On a normal day, whenever the flight crew was sitting at the gate, people couldn’t help but pay attention to us. They were fascinated by our perceived lifestyle. I’d been asked more times than I could count how often I flew, where my favorite destination was, if I was allowed to date the passengers, and what I was doing when we landed.
My eyes pulled together as my embarrassment swelled. I was nothing if not quick-witted. “There is a god,” I breathed out dramatically.
“It’s cute how you pretend you don’t want me.”
“It’s kind of psychotic how you think that I do. Are you sure you’re fit to fly? I mean, here.” I tapped the side of my head and made a face.
“Bet you’d love to see how fit I am.” His dark blue eyes narrowed playfully, but I wasn’t playing.
I shoved at his stupidly hard chest—of course it was probably perfect as well—and growled when he didn’t move an inch. “Just stay away from me.”
“Gladly.” He grinned, and I hated the way he could make me feel like I was beneath him somehow.
River was like a roller coaster, taking me up in the air one second and plunging me toward the ground the next. It was jarring, but even I had to admit that a small part of me enjoyed our banter. His comebacks always kept me on my toes. Unlike the other pilots, who weren’t even the least bit creative when it came to hitting on me.
I was just about to say something else to River when I felt a strong tap on my shoulder. I swung around, noticed one of our “senior mama’s”, and squealed.
“Oh! Carmella! I’m so happy to see you!”
I hadn’t worked with her in months. Flight attendant life was that way sometimes. You could work with someone once and then never see them again while you crossed paths with others more regularly if you were lucky.
“How long has it been?” Her New York accent hit my ears, and I smiled in response to hearing it.
She had given me all kinds of tips and tricks when I was brand-new on the job. Like how to deal with drunk passengers without pissing them off and creating a scene (flirt) and how to avoid dating the pilots (don’t flirt).
“Three months at least. Where have you been?” I asked because I’d flown this route a few times lately and she’d never been on it.
“Oh, everywhere, honestly. I’m a last-minute replacement. Someone called in sick, and I happened to end my route here. I’m hoping we actually take off. It’s getting pretty bad out there.” She glanced at River before extending her hand. “I’m sorry, have we met?”
“Stop it,” he answered, his tone oozing with charm and sincerity. It sounded nothing like the way he talked to me. “Come here, you gorgeous thing, you.”
He pulled her in for a hug, and I swore I heard her sigh out loud, her face instantly flushing against his jacket. This guy seemed to have that effect on everyone. Except me. River might be gorgeous, but he knew it. And guys like that were a danger to your heart.
“Do you just get handsomer with age?” Carmella asked River, her jet-black hair swaying as she turned to look at me. “He does, doesn’t he?”
I rolled my eyes and grunted, “I wouldn’t know.”
Even though Carmella had told me point-blank that dating a pilot would only end in heartbreak, she always seemed to have a soft spot for River. Or at least the way he looked.
Carmella laughed. “Oh, honey, we all know. Everyone with eyes knows.”
“Well, my eyes don’t like looking at him.”
Liar.
“River”—she tsked as she turned back to face him—“you didn’t,” she said without finishing.
We all knew what she was hinting at. That River and I had hooked up.
“Ew. No,” I protested a little too emphatically at the same time River did.
“Not a chance,” he said for additional emphasis, and I hated how ugly it made me feel.
It was one thing when I was the one dissing him, but every time he did it back to me in response, I hated him for it.
I know; I know. I’m a hypocrite. Still don’t care.
“Mmhmm.” She looked between us, her eyes narrowing as she reached for my arm and pulled me aside. “Sky, what did I tell you about the pilots?”
I threw my hands in the air. “We haven’t. I didn’t. I swear.”
“But you want to.” She tilted her head and studied me as I frowned.
“I most certainly do not.”
I’d never do that to Stacy. She’d never forgive me. Typical nine-to-five workplace romances were tricky enough, but romances in the air were another beast altogether. Not to mention the fact that all the warnings I’d received about the men who flew our planes had been pretty spot on. I’d done my best to avoid hooking up with any of them so far, not that it had been that difficult, honestly. Whenever a particularly handsy pilot was going to head out with the crew on a layover, I opted to stay in my hotel room instead. That had earned me the title slam-clicker. I didn’t care about the name.
The last thing I wanted was to be a notch on a bedpost, or a number in a city, or embarrassed whenever we had to work together. And I definitely wouldn’t want anyone to find out about it. That was the biggest issue—people in this industry always found out everything. There were no secrets. I knew more about my coworkers’ sex life than I’d ever wanted to.
And don’t get me started on the awkwardness. One time, a pilot had had his wife and his mistress on the same plane. His mistress had to serve drinks and food to the wife the entire time. To say it was one of the most uncomfortable situations for the rest of us would be an understatement. I remembered waiting for the shit to hit the fan the entire flight, bracing myself for a fight that, thankfully, never came. My stomach had been in knots until we landed and the flight attendant ran into the restroom in the back of the aircraft and threw up until all the passengers deplaned.
I watched as Carmella glanced back in River’s direction before focusing on me again. “God knows I love that boy, but he’s a heartbreaker.”
“I know. I’ve heard all about it.”
A loudspeaker in the gate crackled to life before announcing that we would begin boarding soon, and the waiting passengers all seemed to exhale in unison. I realized that they had all expected a cancellation announcement at any moment and were relieved that we’d be taking off. Glancing out the large windows, I saw the snow falling heavily. The sooner we took off, the sooner we’d be back on solid ground again.
“Ladies”—River appeared at our sides—“that’s our cue.”
“Where’s your first officer?” I asked.
Even though it was a quick twenty-five-minute flight, there were always two pilots. It was a safety protocol that all airlines followed.
River gave a head nod, and we all turned in time to see a first officer heading our direction, his suitcase in tow right behind him. I glanced at his left hand, noticing the absence of a ring there. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Lots of pilots took their wedding rings off before a flight or during a layover. It never made any sense to me, to be honest. It wasn’t like we wouldn’t find out they were married eventually. Why did they always try to lie about it?
“I’m Chad,” he said as he reached our little group, and we all took turns introducing ourselves.
“All right. Gang’s all here,” River announced, and we simultaneously reached for our credentials and headed toward the jet bridge like we owned the place.