Prince Albert(146)

Show me your boobs.

Have you joined the mile-high club?



I shake my head, but I lower the partition that divides us. "You're bad," I whisper.

"Aw," he says. "Why are you still wearing your shirt? I said boobs."

"I'm looking at a boob."

"Wow, you bowl me over with your witty and clever retorts, Delaney," he says, raising his eyebrow.

"Shut up. You give me very little to work with."

Gaige grins at me, reaching over to slide his hand around the back of my neck and draw me in close to him. He kisses me full on the lips, but I push him back. "What?" he asks.

"You're going to kiss me like that, right in public?"

"No one can see in here. Our partition is down but everyone else's is up. Including Chelsea's. Fool around with me."

"How many glasses of champagne have you had?" I ask. "I'm sure the flight attendants can see in here when they walk by."

"So what. Who cares?" he asks.

"So…" I start. "Despite your blasé attitude and carelessness about, well, everything, you are a minor celebrity, you know. People are interested in who your girl-of-the-moment is."

"Pfft," Gaige says. "I'm not minor. I'm fucking major, baby."

I jump back when a flight attendant interrupts us, offering champagne. Gaige charms the pants off her, and has her giggling and leaving us the bottle in less than ten seconds. With her phone number beside it.

He pours a glass and hands it to me. "What?" he asks, when he sees my face.

I shake my head. "That's what I'm talking about."

"You're jealous of the flight attendant?"

"No, don't be ridiculous. I mean, okay, you were totally flirting with her and everything. But I know that's just how you are. And she did leave you her number."

"Which I promptly tossed in the trash. Oh, you are jealous," he says, his voice sing-songy. "I love that you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous. I'm saying that people remember you. Even if they don't know who you are, they remember you. I mean, look at you," I say, gesturing down the length of him. I had a point with this. What was my point? Okay, maybe seeing Gaige charm the pants off the flight attendant threw me off a little bit. "You're hot. You're hot…and, basically, you're fucking ripped….and tattooed….and even if you weren't all of that, your eyes, I mean, they're just so…"

"No, no," he says. "Don't stop. Keep going. What else do you love about me?"

"What?" My voice comes out like a squeak. "Who said anything about love?"

Gaige shrugs. "You're the one going on and on about how sexy I am, and how you can't stand that anyone else is even looking at me –"

"That was not the point I was making," I say. "I'm just saying that you're memorable. And people do not need to remember me with you."

Gaige studies me, and the intensity of his gaze makes me blush. Damn it, he's always making me blush. "So you're just looking out for me."

"Exactly!" I say. "I'm looking out for your best interests. It's my new job."

Gaige leans closer to me, reaches over to my seat, and runs his hand up my leg. "I'm glad we're a team."

"Is that some kind of innuendo?"

He makes an exasperated sound. "I'm glad your dad assigned you to me. Not everything that comes out of my mouth is an innuendo, Delaney."

"You were just talking about joining the mile high club and you have your hand on my leg. Plus, pretty much everything you say to me is innuendo."

"That's not true," he says, and his forehead wrinkles. For a second, I think he looks almost…hurt.

"I didn't mean it as an insult," I say, my voice halting.

"Do you think he did it on purpose?" Gaige asks.

"Did what? Who?"

"Do you think your dad knows?"

My heart stops. "No, of course not," I say quickly. "Wait, do you think he knows?"

Gaige shrugs. "I don't know," he says. "I was just wondering if he was…trying to get us together or something."

I almost spit out my champagne. "No," I say. "Definitely not. Are you kidding?"

"Is it so bad?"

"What, you and me?" My voice is too loud, and I drop it to just above a whisper. "Are you asking about if you and I got together?"

"No," Gaige says, and averts his eyes. "Forget I said anything." He lies back in his seat and closes his eyes.

Shit. I feel like someone punched me in the gut. But Gaige asking what my father would think if we got together is insane on so many levels. "I thought you were joking," I say lamely.