Fake Boyfriend - Miley Maine Page 0,3

wanted to. “Honey, you have no idea the things that go on in the world.”

“I’m sure I don’t. But I'm never going to grow up if you keep babying me.”

My mother still had on her power suit. She’d even worn it to the party, preferring business clothes over formal dresses. “Using security is not a babyish thing to do. In fact, it’s very responsible.”

I would never win an argument with my mother. There was a reason she’d won her senate seat, and it wasn’t because she gave up easily. “I’m going alone. I agreed to stick with your rules through college, but I’m moving on.”

My dad dropped his phone on the table. “Sweetheart.”

“Look. I love you. I know you’re trying to protect me. But I can’t function like this. I’m not like everyone else in the family.”

“Don’t upset your mother,” he said.

“It’s not upsetting for a twenty-two year old college graduate to talk about traveling alone. Or moving out, which is what I’m doing after the wedding.”

I got up and left before they could start gnashing their teeth about that announcement.

Chapter Three

Jackson

When I got back from Romania, I didn’t need to pack much beyond my basic camping gear; I was going to rough it before I got to the cabin.

My grandfather’s cabin had everything I needed there. I was leaving immediately; there was no reason for me to linger at home. I lived in base housing and my teammates had already scattered, setting off for vacations across the country. My deployments with the Rangers weren’t usually long term, but they were frequent.

At the Atlanta airport, I shuffled into line with everyone else. I had TSA pre-check status so at least I was in the shorter line, although I wasn’t in a huge hurry. I was facing a five hour flight to Seattle. And while I’d been trained to survive in harsh conditions if necessary, I still didn’t look forward to folding my large body into the tiny economy seat.

At the check-in line, a young woman stood in front of me. She was taller than average and slender with a bouncy red ponytail. A pair of fitted jeans showed off her cute little backside. I might be ready for some solitude, but I wasn’t dead inside.

She had a huge purse with her, and another large padded bag that seemed too heavy for her, because she kept adjusting the strap. Finally, she let it drop to the floor. Her shoulders sagged.

She turned around and shot me a big grin. I found myself smiling back, which was new. I usually tried to ignore people in airports.

She looked around nineteen, which was way too young for me, but it didn’t hurt to look.

“I think I overpacked,” she said. “I have my camera inside, and the tripod, and all the extra lenses.”

A chatty passenger. This was the reason I usually ignored people in airports. I gave her what I hoped was a polite smile, but probably looked more like a grimace and turned to the side. This line wasn’t long, but we could be here for awhile. I didn’t want to be stuck in a conversation.

She seemed to get the hint and she turned back to face forward, but it didn’t last long. Within minutes, she’d turned back around to face me. She looked me up and down. “Vacation?”

I nodded. I was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, which was noticeably different than the people all around us traveling in business suits.

I didn’t feel like offering any extra information. Once people found out I was in the Army they wanted to talk about it. At great length. I’d just have to keep that to myself.

“My trip is for both work and vacation. I’m taking photos for a wedding,” she said proudly, apparently unbothered by my lack of participation in the conversation. “My friend warned me about putting this bag in the checked luggage. She said it would be in pieces.” She looked at me expectantly.

I’d never had trouble ignoring someone outright, but I couldn’t bring myself to ignore her. She was so eager, so excited. I didn’t want to be the one to burst her bubble. “Your friend is right,” I said. “They throw the luggage.”

A line appeared across her forehead. “I cannot let that happen to my camera.”

“You need a rolling suitcase for next time,” I said, and I wanted to offer to carry her bag, but that would be crossing the line for someone I just met, especially in an airport.

“That’s a great