Never Choose Flight (A Fighter Romance Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page B

corner. We always sat next to each other on the little loveseat and ate our lunches off of our laps.
    “So,” she said in a voice quiet enough that no one else would hear her. “Spill. Tell me everything. Was he cute?”
    I could tell that she was just fishing. Pretending that she knew things that she obviously didn’t. But I could also tell that she wasn’t going to give up. She’d find out what I’d been up to whether I wanted her to or not. “Yes,” I said. “But I’d probably go with hot, not cute.”
    “Fuck yeah,” she said, a little too loud. She turned her volume back down for, “So details! How’d you meet?”
    “On the plane ride home. But don’t get your hopes up. This was a one time thing. I don’t have a boyfriend now.”
    “Sure,” she said.
    “He’s a fighter. As his job, I think. And it’s dangerous. He said that he cares about me too much, doesn’t want me to get hurt. So we can’t be together.”
    “Aw,” said Samantha, making the syllable last for as long as possible. “That’s kinda sweet. But do you think it’ll actually happen?”
    “What?”
    “You two staying apart. Like, for good.”
    “I think so,” I said. “It’ll take me a while to get all the things he did to me out of my head, but it’ll happen.”
    “Sure,” said Samantha. “Does he have your number?”
    “Yes,” I said.
    “He’ll call.”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “After a night with you? Any guy would be a total fool not to call.”
    I smiled.
    “So what’s the news?” asked Derek. He awkwardly sat himself down on the armrest.
    “No news,” I said.
    “Just catching up a bit,” said Samantha.
    “Cool,” said Derek, who then smiled and stared off into the distance.
    I looked at Samantha and we sighed in unison. Our chat was over. But she winked at me again. She liked doing that. Leaving the interpretation of the winks up to me.
    * * *

 
    After work, I was back in my car, driving towards my place. But then I took an unexpected turn off of the freeway. I guess some part of my brain meant to do it, but I certainly wasn’t aware of the plan.
    I drove past the warehouse. In the daylight, it looked exactly like the rest of them. There were no cars parked out front. No sign of anyone inside. No crowd. No booze. Just a regular warehouse. Really the only way I could tell it was the same place was the punching bag hanging from one side.
    After that I carried on, trying to trace the path that Malcolm had driven the night before. It had been dark, and he had driven fast, so I think part of me was worried that I wouldn’t be able to find his place if I tried. But after fifteen minutes, I was parked outside of it. I knew where it was. I didn’t need to worry about that.
    I had no way to tell if he was home. The place had big windows, but I couldn’t see any lights on inside. Not that he would have needed lights on, though, given the big windows. There wasn’t a car parked outside, other than my own, but that didn’t mean anything either. Maybe he had a car that he just hadn’t taken to the airport. But I had no way of knowing.
    Part of me wanted to just go up and knock. But then I remembered what we’d agreed to. It was a one night stand. And I didn’t want to be in danger. So I drove home, taking a bit of a scenic route.
    Once I was home, I made myself some dinner. Then I pulled out my phone. Zero missed calls. I know that the card I gave him had my cell number on it. That’s how devoted I was to selling paper. And yet he hadn’t called.
    I left it on the coffee table as I flicked on the TV and put on some distraction. Normally I’d read a book, but my favorite genre has always been romance. And when emails about paper get me going because of recent memories, I can’t imagine what some of the stuff I read would do. I might just go insane.
    So I sat there, watching TV. But really I was only pretending to watch TV. Really I was watching my phone. Watching how it wasn’t going off. No one