MILE HIGH

22

ZANDERS

“S

tevie,” I begin. “You following me?”

Her eyes trail down my body, checking me out as I do the same to her.

Her chestnut curls are plopped on top of her head in a wild mess, and her clothes are drowning her figure. Dark lashes frame her blue-green eyes, and her face doesn’t show a stitch of makeup, minus...is that mustard on her chin?

She’s only inches from me, right where she barreled into my chest, my hold keeping her steady. Without thinking, I use the pad of my thumb to softly wipe the yellow from her face. As I do, her mouth falls open, and her eyes dart to mine, holding my stare for a moment.

Stevie clears her throat and takes a step back, away from me.

“Seems like you’re following me,” she retorts, keeping her eyes anywhere but on me as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“How am I following you?” I mirror her stubborn actions, crossing my arms in the same manner. “My best friends live here.”

Finally, her eyes dart to mine, c*****g her head in confusion.

“Eli Maddison,” I explain. “His family lives in this building. Penthouse floor. But their elevator is being worked on.” I motion across the lobby to the private elevator for the Maddisons’ level. The only one I use to avoid run-ins like this.

Realization covers Stevie’s face. “His wife has dark red hair?”

Logan’s signature color. “Logan. Yeah.”

Stevie nods as if all the puzzle pieces are being put together for her.

“So, clearly, you’re following me.”

She scoffs. “I live here. If anyone is being a stalker, it certainly isn’t me.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” I brush her off, not believing her. Not to sound like a rich asshole, but this building, as well as mine across the street, cost an arm and a leg to own. She’s a flight attendant. I highly doubt she makes enough to live here.

“Why the hell do you keep calling me ‘sweetheart?’”

An evil laugh slips from my lips. I thought she was smarter than that. “You don’t get it?”

“Get what?”

“My nickname for you. It’s ironic. I’m not sure you have a sweet bone in your body, sweetheart.”

She holds my eye for a moment, contemplating her response. And if it were anyone else, I’d expect to be cussed out or maybe even smacked, but not with Stevie. She’s kind of a wild card in that way. She can take the s**t-talking just as well as she can dish it out.

Instead of a negative reaction, uncontrollable giggles fall from her lips, her chest heaving. “Oh, that’s pretty good, actually.”

I can’t help the smile that overtakes my face from seeing this wild girl, dressed like she might not have a place to call home, unable to contain her hysterical laughter in the middle of this all-white pristine lobby, marble floor and all.

She looks entirely out of place, and I kind of f*****g love it.

“You’re such an asshole,” she laughs.

“I know.” I smile right back at her.

I let her catch her breath before asking again. “Okay, really, though. What are you doing here?”

She inhales deeply, a smile still covering her lips. “I already told you. I live here. Well, my brother lives here, and I’m staying with him.”

“Your brother? Who is your brother?”

I’d have to know him. This city is big, but not that big. Anyone who can afford to live in this complex is some kind of high-roller or athlete, bringing in millions of dollars a year.

“No one you’d know.” Stevie brushes me off. “I got to go. Have a good night.”

She sneaks past me, swiftly darting out the lobby doors. I watch her leave before quickly glancing back at the elevator in contemplation. I’m meeting up with Maddison and Logan tonight, planning to have a late-night celebratory drink on their porch now that the rain has stopped.

But instead, I find myself turning on my heel and jogging out the lobby doors to chase after a flight attendant who seems hell-bent on getting away from me.

“Wait!” I call out, busting through the front doors.

She stops in her tracks and turns my way, looking disheveled as f**k, and I have no idea why I’m chasing after this girl right now.

“Where...uh. Where are you going? It’s after midnight.”

Why do I give a f**k is the better question.

Stevie looks down the street in the direction she’s headed. “Just running an errand.”

“Where?” Again, why the hell do I care? “Chicago is not a safe city to be wandering around by yourself at night.”

“Only a block over. I’m fine.”

Stevie turns away from me, hastily continuing on her way.

Rolling my eyes at her in frustration, I jog to catch up and gently grab her elbow, turning her back to face me. “Stevie, wait.”

As she turns around, my fingers slide down, skimming her light brown skin and softly holding on to her forearm.

She looks down at my hand before glancing up at me. “Yes?”

Yeah, Evan, what? What the f**k are you planning to say? Why do you keep chasing this chick who clearly wants to get away from you?

I retrieve my hand from her arm, trying to form a sentence. Since I’ve known this girl, I’ve had a blast getting under her skin and flustering the hell out of her. However, tonight, I’m the one who’s lost their charm and can’t speak in proper sentences.

Thankfully, she speaks before I have to. “You smell like sex.”

I straighten up a bit, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Sounded like one.”

She rolls her eyes. “Can’t really fault you. You did say you were going to celebrate with a couple of special someones tonight.”

My brows shoot up at that statement. “You watched my game?”

“I watched the last two minutes of your game.”

“I looked hot as f**k in my jersey, yeah?”

“You’re in love with yourself.”

“Someone’s got to be,” which is always my response to that statement.

A couple walks past us on the street, all the while staring at me and whispering. It’s fairly early in the season, and I haven’t done anything too scandalous in a bit that the paparazzi aren’t following my every move at the moment. Still, it’s hard to go many places in the city without getting recognized. Not that I mind the attention. I like the fanfare for the most part.

“But no, there were no someones,” I explain, though Stevie never asked for an explanation. “The ‘special someones’ I was referring to celebrating with tonight is Maddison’s family. His wife is one of my best friends too, and if I time it just right, I might be able to catch their newborn son waking up to get fed.” I motion up the building, referencing their penthouse.

“Oh,” she awkwardly laughs. “It came off completely s****l on camera.”