My Brother's Billionaire Best Friend - Max Monroe Page 0,111

get to travel the world, meet new people, and have daily adventures.

I’d forgotten to take into account the whole serving other people thing. Or the times when things like puke occurred outside of the lavatory.

Honestly, I did love my new job, but I was only human. I had good days, as well as days when I had to deal with douchebags.

I nodded and plastered on my very best “I’ll get right on that” smile, but once I stepped into the first-class galley, I rolled my eyes and let Casey know his favorite passenger on the plane needed another drink.

“Babe would like another vodka cranberry.”

Lucky for me, my best guy friend was also my fellow flight attendant—who also happened to be very gay and extremely protective. He was my biggest buffer for asshole male passengers who came on too strong.

Case and I flew together on a weekly basis, and because he always had my back, I was more than thankful our flight schedules were generally in sync.

He snorted in response. “Considering we’re taking a detour to Atlanta because of the weather, Mr. First Class Dickhead can live without another drink.” Casey punctuated his statement by holding his middle finger up in the air, high and proud, but sadly, behind the safe constraints of the galley wall.

I’d say I wasn’t the only one tired of Babe’s bullshit.

“Although…” Casey cleared his throat and waggled his brows. “I haven’t minded looking at Babe’s seatmate every time I’ve dropped off his vodka and cranberry.”

“Seatmate?” I feigned confusion—as though I didn’t fucking remember who he’d meant.

I knew damn well who he was referring to—the tall drink of water in seat 2A.

Deep blue eyes, big and broad shoulders, a svelte, muscular frame, and full lips to boot, the mystery man in 2A was a looker, that was for fucking sure. Not to mention the perfectly mussed light brown hair that framed his face and the soft Southern drawl that accompanied his words. Those locks and that accent would make any woman’s mind wander toward thoughts of beds and sleep and sex.

I’d spent the majority of this flight sneaking glances in his direction, wondering, What does a guy like that look like underneath his clothes?

My brain screamed, Strong and big and thick in all of the right places.

Thankfully, since the freakishly long moment he’d met and held my eyes before takeoff, 2A had spent most of the flight with his eyes closed, head resting on the seat back, and his headphones covering his ears. Otherwise, he might’ve caught me mid-ogle.

Although, if I was being honest with myself, I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing he hadn’t realized that my gaze had taken notice of him or not. I felt torn between wanting him not to see me looking at him and wanting him to know I was looking at him.

Attraction is a weird phenomenon.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me,” Casey outright refuted with a hand to his hip. “I know you know who I’m talking about. Just two hours ago, you listened while I pledged my virginity to him and him alone if he would take me as his he-wife. He’s so freaking fine, I’m honestly curious if he is the sole reason Tropical Storm Rita decided to switch up her path.”

“Pretty sure, no matter how good-looking the man is, he doesn’t have the power to change weather patterns. And God will smite me if I don’t, again, laugh in your face at your inference that you’re still a virgin.”

“Aha!” He wiggled a knowing finger in my direction. “So, you do remember him, you little harlot!”

I just laughed it off and used my best tactic of defense before he started tossing out ideas of how to get 2A’s phone number. “Do you think we’ll be able to finish up inflight service?” I questioned and quickly busied myself with emptying out the coffee machine.

Casey looked up from his new current task: refilling the drink cart with coveted boxes of orange juice. It was a true wonder of the modern world why airplanes urged cravings of sugared-up oranges in liquid form, but the proof was in the pudding, or should I say, the constant passenger requests for OJ.

“Doubtful, but we’ll try to make the best of it,” he answered with a little shrug of his shoulders. “Captain Billy should be making the final announcement to land in the next few minutes, and with the way the turbulence has been the whole way, I have a feeling he’ll demand