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Self-criticism aside, she still talks about her team with grace.

Haven isn’t what I expected. She’s humble, and not in a humble-because-I’m-above-you kind of way. She’s refreshing for a pop star. She doesn’t have to have humility. I’m not sure I would if I were in her position. I mean, Christ, I’m nothing but a bratty billionaire industry kid. I’m certain reserved is the last word my counterparts would use to describe me.

“I’ll have to come check you guys out.”

“You’ve got plenty of time. Give us a few runs before you enjoy the show.” Haven giggles to herself, and I can’t help but give a friendly chuckle right back. I like her; she’s straight to the point. No hidden notion. I question her hiring a bit, because it seems as if some of the dancers she’s brought on have a bit of a wandering eye, and I’m no saint, but I’d consider myself a good judge of character.

It’s hard not to be when you live in the fast lane for years on end. Reading people becomes a survival skill.

I’ve become so good at it that it took a single one-night stand for me to know that it was the only one I’d ever have.

I read her like a book that sucks you in from the start—I’ve just yet to finish.

With a polite parting to Haven and thanking everyone else for being patient, I stalk back toward the front. To the rest of the passengers, I’m heading back to work, but I couldn’t care less about the waiting cockpit ahead of me.

Fia’s long brown hair cascades past the armrest—lucky fucking chair.

I take my time as I admire how soft and angelic she looks relaxed back on the velvety leather. The throw that’s a standard Greenway Airline’s accessory, lays perfectly across her body in a way that has me humming under my breath with jealousy.

Once behind her, I take a deep breath of her, loving how well she mixes with the luxury smell of the plane.

She makes it impossible to stop myself from coming back for more.

“What?” she deadpans, her head turning just slightly when the shadow of my body covers the back of her chair.

A parade of elephants thumps in place of my pulse.

“Just checking on my passengers,” I retort, keeping myself behind her.

“You didn’t have a problem passing me the first time.”

My cheek dimples, loving that she noticed.

“Did I hurt your feelings?” I can’t help it; I poke the bear.

“I’d have to have feelings for you to hurt.”

“Surely, there’s something under that stone-covered heart of yours.”

My chest tightens at the thought of her locking herself away, when all I want in this life is to be the one she grants access.

“Not for you,” she mutters.

I keep my voice just above a whisper as I crane forward at the side of her chair. With a posture so poised, my hands dutifully lock behind my back. I remain in character to everyone surrounding us, but between her ear and my lips, I’m a completely different performer.

She huffs. “You can get back to work now.” Her legs face the other direction in her chair, angling even farther from me.

“That’s no way to talk to your captain, Sofia.” My voice rolls like thunder. Deep and stormy, so she knows that when we’re here, I’m the boss. The cozy blanket does nothing to hide the hitch of her breath.

Her “rules” may apply to whenever we’re in her space, but I’ll be damned if they’re applicable in mine.

“Did you enjoy my gift?” I raise my voice just an octave.

“I don’t need your hand-me-downs. My clothes are just fine.”

“Those weren’t yours,” I mutter.

“And what makes you so sure?”