15
Dillon
I waited at the bar, scrolling through emails and messages on my phone as I sipped my scotch, neat.
The plane ride had been blissfully quick and uneventful. I’d found Laurel’s excitement and childlike wonder of sitting in first class charming and refreshing. It had been nice to have a normal conversation with her without tales of our past, pranks, or bitter memories muddying the waters.
I found I was beginning to like present-day Laurel, and was looking forward to spending the evening with her.
“Hey,” I heard Laurel say timidly from behind me.
I turned with a smile, then faltered slightly at first glance.
Whereas before she’d stunned in a sexy, slinky black dress, tonight she was pure class in black slacks with a sheer, floral blouse. Her hair was long and loose, in stylis
