Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
He started kicking my seat the moment he sat down, and I gritted my teeth, determined to force myself to deal with it.
But the entire boarding, the kicking persisted, leaving me fuming mad.
I knew why the kid was doing it.
He was pissed that he couldn’t sit with his sibling.
Well, I really didn’t give a flying fuck.
Truly, I didn’t.
What I did care about was the fact that I paid for this seat, because I was flying to Japan, and I wanted to do that in comfort.
What I didn’t want to do was sit there for the entire flight and allow them to kick my seat.
That was eighteen hours I would have to deal.
And let’s be honest.
There was a reason that Gavrel told everyone who would listen that I had a short temper.
He said it was because I was Asian spicy—i.e., extra short.
God, I missed my brother.
I missed him even more since I was making this trip alone.
Kick.
Kick.
Kick.
I gritted my teeth and tried to deal; surely, he’d get over it, right?
But nope.
Three hours later, and the motherfucker was still kicking my seat.
When I finally got tired of it and stood up to address the kid and his mother, asking him to stop, she laughed.
“Guess maybe you should’ve gone back to coach if you wanted me to make my kid stop.” She huffed, dismissing me.
I sat down, but not before I pressed the flight attendant button above my chair.
She arrived with a flourish, and she had a co-conspirator look in her eyes as she began speaking.
“Excuse me,” the flight attendant came to rest her hand on my shoulder. Her eyes flicked backward to the seat behind me—she was well aware of what the little shit had been doing for the last three hours. “I have a seat available behind them. There’s an elderly lady that said something about how hard it was to get to the bathroom from her seat.”
I stood up. “Done.”
Me and the elderly lady, who did indeed look like she was going to have trouble getting to the bathroom, switched.
She thanked me profusely, and I hoped that little motherfucking teenager didn’t kick that precious lady’s seat.
When I passed the little fucker, I smiled at him.
He looked chagrinned.
Like he knew what was about to happen and was rethinking his last three hours of stupidity.
Taking a seat in the chair behind him, I buckled my seatbelt.
Then I started kicking.
Kick.
Kick.
Then I’d stop. Give him a false sense of security.
Kick.
I spent the entirety of the eighteen-hour flight kicking him.
The flight attendant didn’t say a word when the asshole teen brought it to her attention.
Needless to say, when I got off the plane, and the teen’s bloodshot eyes caught mine, I couldn’t help the smile.
That smile stayed in place through the next few hours as I got off the plane and navigated my way to the pickup area.
Learning Japanese was a Godsend.
The moment I got off the plane, everyone started talking to me, welcoming me home, unaware that I’d been raised in America and not here.
I smiled, used my flawless Japanese and admitted that I wasn’t from here, and asked the nearest friendly woman for directions.
The woman was my barnacle for the next twenty minutes as she helped me get to where I needed to go, and we found a man holding a sign with my name written on it.
I smiled and waved, and the woman wished me the best for my stay in Japan for the next few weeks, then left me in the capable hands of my driver.
The driver took me to the hotel, and the entire time I watched the scenery of Okinawa pass in my window.
The hotel was amazing.
The room was amazing.
And the entire city was amazing.
The entire trip, I sent photos of my days to Maven, sharing all the special places with her as I went.
I also managed to stop myself from asking her about Gable, or the jerk, Madman.
I enjoyed myself so much that I decided to stay another week and had Maven text her father-in-law and let him know that I would need more time.
Which he’d agreed to immediately and said he would handle it on his end.
After promising I’d be home in a week, I went back to enjoying my vacation.
But not once in all my exploring did I stop thinking about a certain grumpy Carter.
Wake up, you gorgeous badass. (Positive vibes only)
—Text from Athena to Gable
GABLE
I looked for her when I knew she should be home.
For three nights in a row.
Each night she didn’t show, a sick feeling in my gut started to take root. It was growing.
And festering.
On the fourth day, I went by her house to find a For Sale sign in the yard, along with a realtor’s lock on the door.
I leaned into the door and looked through the parted curtains.
Everything was cleaned up, but her belongings were still there, just more presentable.