Lottie: I’m nervous. All the teasing, the sexual tension, that felt easy, but a date? That just feels all too real.
Kelsey: Because it is real. Don’t waste your time worrying about it. Just enjoy it, because when do you ever get whisked away on a private jet?
Lottie: Never.
Kelsey: Exactly. Enjoy the moment, sis. Take lots of pictures and enjoy yourself. I love you.
Lottie: Love you, too.
Chapter Eighteen
HUXLEY
“You’re gripping the armrest pretty tightly. Are you nervous?”
Lottie looks away from the window and says, “Just never been on a plane this small. It’s different.”
She’s sitting across from me, looking sexy as hell in short denim shorts, her vintage T-shirt that she tied in the back so it shows two inches of her midriff, and that goddamn hat, which is doing things to my libido I never expected. When she came down the stairs in her outfit, I knew I was in for a long night of staring and appreciating, with the secret hope that when we’re at the concert, she’ll let me hold her.
“Want to do something to distract you?”
She raises a brow and I roll my eyes.
“Nothing like that.” I reach to the side panel of my seat and pull out a pad of paper and a pen. There’s a table between us so we have the perfect playing space. “Want to play some Hangman?”
“Is that Huxley Cane branded stationery?”
“Just Cane Enterprises.”
“God, you are rich.”
I chuckle. “I am. So, how about it? Want to play?”
Cutely, she cracks her fingers and says, “I’ll have you know, I’m an expert.”
“Yeah, guess we’ll have to see about that.”
I draw out the game board and then put spaces on the paper for my chosen word.
Lottie takes her time, studying the paper. Her eyes shoot to mine, then to the paper and then back to mine. She leans back in her chair, crosses her arms, and says, “Pussy.”
My eyes nearly bulge out of my sockets. “What?”
She taps the paper. “That’s your word. Pussy. I’m right, aren’t I?”
How the actual fuck?
She smiles and chuckles. “I’m right. God, I told you I was good.” She takes the paper from me and fills in my blank spaces. “Are you impressed?”
“Terrified.”
The laugh that falls past her lips is so goddamn sexy that I’m tempted to pull her across this table and put her on my lap, where I can kiss her senseless.
Fuck do I want to taste those lips again, desperately. But for the first time in my life when it comes to a woman I like . . . I feel unsure. I wouldn’t say we’ve had the best track record when it comes to getting along, nor has our relationship so far been one filled with ease. It’s been tense, uncomfortable at times, a lie. That’s no way to start a relationship, which makes me question, does she even want to start anything with me? Although, I’m sure I saw happiness in her expression when she asked if this was a date. I think.
She marks down some spaces on the paper and says, “Okay, your turn.”
I study the six-letter word. Glance up at her. Then back at the paper. I grip my chin and say, “O.”
Her eyes flash to mine, they’re lit up with humor as she marks O as the first letter.
Smiling widely now, I say, “M.”
“You know.” She tosses the pen at me.
“Orgasm.” When she rolls her eyes, I say, “You’re not the only one good at this game.”
“It seems as though we’re both perverts.” She presses her hand to her chest. “I’m uncultured. What’s your excuse?”
“Uncultured?” I laugh. “What makes you uncultured?”
She rubs her fingers together. “I didn’t grow up with money.”
“Money has nothing to do with it. Some of the richest people are uncultured swine. Complete assholes. Money has nothing to do with it.”
“Oh, then tell me, what makes a cultured person?”
“Your heart. Your mind. Your soul. It has nothing to do with status and everything to do with who you are as a person.”
Thoughtfully, she tilts her head to the side. “So, based off those criteria, would you say I’m cultured?”
Giving her a hard time, I say, “Well, your heart is beautiful. Your soul is spotted with black, but overall, a kind one, and, well, your mind . . . that’s all kinds of fucked up.”
Her mouth drops open in amusement as she stands from her seat and charges toward me. I don’t flinch. When she reaches out to poke me with her rose-colored nail, I take her hand and pull her forward so she’s forced to sit on my lap.
She playfully fights me, poking me all over my chest. “I’ll show you a spotted-black soul.”
I chuckle and gain hold of her hands, only to pin them at her side.
“Let go of me at once. I’m attempting to prove a point to you.”
“What are you going to do? Poke me to death?”
“To death seems a bit extreme, don’t you think, Huxley?” She arches a brow. “A bit dramatic.”
“You’re the one who came over here with your fingers. How am I supposed to know what you’re doing?”
“So, your first inclination is that I’m going to poke you to death . . . to death, Huxley.”
I shrug. “You did harbor some strong hate for me at the beginning.”
“Yeah, at the beginning, but not anymore.”
My lips turn up in a grin. “Not anymore, huh?”
She rolls her eyes and attempts to get off my lap. “I’m not here to boost your ego.”
I keep her firmly in place. “I’d never expect you to. Now cutting it down, that’s another thing.”
“Someone has to keep you grounded.”
“You do a damn good job at it.”
“Would you say I’m the best at it?”
I release her hands and rest my palm on her thigh. She doesn’t flee, but stays in place, which I fucking like. “Between you and my brothers, it’s a tough competition, but I think you edge them out.”
“I shall wear my medal with honor.”
“Mr. Cane,” the pilot says over the speaker. “We’ll be landing shortly. Please take your seat and buckle up.”
I pat Lottie’s leg. “Are you ready for this?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so, but it doesn’t look like I have time to prepare myself.” Before she gets off my lap, she reaches out and cups my cheek. Her facial features turn soft, endearing, as she says, “If I forget to say it tonight, thank you, Huxley. Thank you so much for this. You’re really making a dream of mine come true.”
I place my hand on hers and move it to my mouth to kiss her palm. “You’re welcome, Lottie.”
“I’m sweating.”
“What?” I laugh. “What do you mean you’re sweating?”
We’re standing in line, waiting to enter the concert hall, and this is the first thing she’s said to me since we left the car after finishing off our donuts. We shared a burger and fries at Killer Burger, opting for the peanut butter burger, before we headed over to Voodoo Doughnut and each got a donut, but split them, so we could have a taste of each. Lottie’s idea. But she’s been silent ever since the donuts were consumed. I asked her a question at one point, but she didn’t answer, instead, continued to stare out the window. I wasn’t sure what was going through her head, so I chose to just let her have her peace.