MILE HIGH

4

I’m a single woman. Of course, the first thing I notice is a man’s hands, especially the left one.

One thing they definitely have in common is that they’re both fine as hell, and I could bet good money on the fact they know it.

Indy peers down the aisle again. Thankfully, we’re in the rear of the airplane, and everyone’s backs are to us, so no one can see how obvious she’s being.

“Are you talking about Evan Zanders? Yeah, he’s known for being a d**k, but do we care? It’s like God decided to take a little extra time and sprinkle a bit more ‘sexy’ into his genetic makeup.”

“He’s an ass.”

“You’re right,” Indy agrees. “His ass was sculpted by God himself too.”

I can’t help but laugh with my new friend. We met a few weeks ago when we went through job training together, and I don’t know much about her yet, but so far, she seems great. Not to mention gorgeous. She’s tall and slender, her skin sporting a natural sun-kissed glow, with blonde hair running smoothly down her back. Her eyes are a warm brown, and I don’t think she has a stitch of makeup on, simply because she’s stunning without it.

My eyes trail down her uniform, noticing how perfectly smooth it lays on her thin frame. There’s no gaping between the buttons in her white collared shirt, and her pencil skirt shows no creasing the way mine does from everything it’s trying to hold in.

Immediately feeling self-conscious, I adjust my snug uniform. I ordered it last month when I was a few pounds smaller, but my weight has always fluctuated.

“How long have you been doing this?” I ask Indy as we wait for the rest of the team to board the plane so we can take off on our first trip of the season.

“How long have I been a flight attendant? This is my third year. But I’ve never worked for a team before. How about you?”

“This is my fourth year and my second team. I used to fly for an NBA team out of Charlotte, but my brother lives in Chicago and helped me get this gig.”

“So, you’ve been around athletes before. This is nothing new to you. I’m a little starstruck, to be honest.”

Been around athletes. Dated one. Related to one.

“Yeah, I mean, they’re just normal people, like you and me.”

“I don’t know about you, girl, but I don’t make millions of dollars a year. Nothing normal about that.”

I definitely don’t make anything near that, which is why I live in my twin brother’s insane Chicago apartment until I can find something on my own. I don’t love living off him, but I don’t know anyone else in the city, and he’s the one who wanted me out here so badly. Plus, he makes ridiculous money, that I don’t feel all that bad mooching off him for a free place to sleep.

We couldn’t be more different from each other. Ryan is focused, put-together, driven, and successful. He’s known his path since he was seven. I’m twenty-six and still trying to figure it out. But regardless of our differences, we’re the best of friends.

“Are you from Chicago?” I ask my new friend.

“Born and raised. Well, in the suburbs. How about you?”

“I grew up in Tennessee but went to college in North Carolina. I stayed there when I got my flight attendant job. I just moved to Chicago a month ago.”

“Newbie to the city.” Indy’s brown eyes shine with excitement and a bit of mischief. “We’ve gotta go out when we get back home. Well, we gotta go out when we’re on the road too, but I’ll introduce you to all the best spots in Chicago.”

I shoot her a grateful smile, thankful to have such a cool and accepting chick on my plane this season. This industry can be cutthroat, and sometimes the girls aren’t the nicest to each other, but Indy seems genuine. She and I are about to spend an entire hockey season on the road together, so I’m even more thankful that we get along.

Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for the other flight attendant. Over the two weeks of training, Tara, the lead flight attendant, seemed anything but welcoming. Territorial might be a better word for her. Or bitchy. Either or.

“I have to admit something,” Indy begins in a whisper, brushing her wispy blonde hair out of her face. “I don’t know s**t about hockey.”

A giggle slips past my lips. “Yeah, me neither.”

“Okay, thank God. I’m glad it’s not a job requirement. I mean, I know who they all are because I did my FBI-level investigation of them on social media, but I’ve never seen a game. My boyfriend is plenty versed in the sport, though. He even gave me a hall pass if needed.”

“Wait, really?”

She brushes me off. “As a joke. I’d never do that. If anything, he’d want a hall pass for one of them. He’s in love with watching sports, following athletes, all of it.”

Before I can tell Indy that I have someone at home that her boyfriend might fanboy over, the jerk from the exit row starts walking down the aisle towards us.

I can’t lie to myself and say that Evan Zanders is not a beautiful man. He looks like he just stepped off a runway with the way he’s walking towards me right now. His cheeky smile can’t hide his perfect teeth, and his eyes are the definition of a hazel dream. The tailored three-piece suit he’s rocking has a slight herringbone and screams that he doesn’t leave the house unless he’s dressed to impress.