Betrayal (Infidelity Book 1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,65
a man with no last name.
“Goodbye,” I choked as I turned and walked away. I couldn’t turn back. I couldn’t see him in his jeans and white button-down shirt with the rolled-up sleeves. I couldn’t stare one more second into the stunning pale blue of his eyes or run my fingers over the scruffiness of his jaw. When the doors to the elevator closed, I collapsed against the paneling and the control panel’s buttons blurred as I continued to blink away the tears.
Though my head ached from the pent-up pressure, it wasn’t until I was safely inside Chelsea’s and my suite that I let the sobs rain free. With my face buried in my best friend’s shoulder, I cried as my body convulsed with each tattered breath.
CHELSEA AND I settled into our airplane seats as other passengers walked by. People thought first-class was something special, but as person after person passed, first-class felt like a display case. I wished for a seat at the very back, a place where I could hide and no one would see.
“Before we take off, can I get you anything to drink?” the way-too-perky flight attendant asked, placing napkins on the armrest between us. With a wink, she tapped my knee. “You know, honey, it’s not that bright in here. You can take off your sunglasses.”
“My friend has sensitive eyes,” Chelsea said. “We’ll both have champagne.”
After she walked away, I whispered, “I don’t feel like celebrating.”
Chelsea removed my sunglasses, shook her head and returned them to my face. “You need to celebrate. You need to look at this the way it was—something amazing and unique.”
The attendant handed us each our plastic glass with bubbling liquid.
“I thought they used glass glasses in first-class,” Chelsea said, examining her cup.
“After we take off.”
“Because it’s safer to have real glass at 42,000 feet than sitting still on the ground?”
I shook my head. I’d never given it that much thought.
“Come on,” she encouraged. “Let’s toast.”
“Chels…”
She tipped her cup toward mine. “To Charli with an i.”
“To Charli with…” Nox. I said the last part only to myself. Then I added, “Welcome back, Alex.”
Chelsea smiled. “You know, Alex isn’t so bad.” She shrugged. “I like her.”
“Thanks. I’m glad. She’s not bad, but she doesn’t have an i.” Sighing, I reached under the seat in front of us and pulled out my purse. It didn’t matter that my eyes were red and puffy, I brought more attention to myself with the sunglasses than I did without them. I put them in their case.
“You know,” Chelsea said, “I had a great time, even if you didn’t.”
My face snapped toward her. “I did!”
“There,” she declared triumphantly. “I wanted you to hear yourself admit that. You did have a great time.”
“I did.” I turned on my phone. “Have you put your phone in airplane mode?” I asked.
“Hey, let me see that,” Chelsea said, grabbing my phone from my hand.
Why are people constantly taking my phone? “What are you doing?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said, remember?”
I shook my aching head. “No, I don’t remember. Do you think they could get me something for this headache?”
“More champagne,” she murmured before she repeated the story I’d told her. “You said that he told you he broke a rule.”
My void grew. It was too early to remember his words. They weren’t only words in my memory. They were deep, velvety tones that tightened my insides while covering my skin in goose bumps.
Involuntarily, I shuddered.
If anyone notices, they’ll probably think I have the flu or some disease. If I don’t get my shit together, the FAA will put us all in quarantine.
“Chelsea, give me my phone. They’re closing the door.”
“Look!” She pointed at the screen.
“Shit,” I whispered. My pulse was suddenly racing as my puffy eyes filled with tears. “Why? Why would he do that?”
“I think if I remember what you told me, he said it was because of you. You make him break his own rules.”
NOX- PRIVATE NUMBER was displayed on the screen of my phone with a telephone number below.
“When?”
Chelsea shrugged. “Probably when he had you in a sex-induced coma.”
“Those don’t exist.”
“They do…” She wiggled her eyebrows. “…if you have too much sex.”
“Is that even possible?”
“Comatose? Hell yes.”
“No,” I corrected, “too much sex?”
“Not if it’s done right.”
Oh, Nox did it right.
“I should delete it.”
She pulled the phone away and spoke in a stage whisper. “Like hell you should. You’re not thinking straight right now. Don’t you dare delete that number.”