Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

MIKAYLA

D eep breaths. In for four, hold for four. Out for four. Hold.

1…2…3…4…

Rinse, repeat.

The attendant at the door called for all first-class passengers to board, and God, I'd never been so grateful in my life.

Chicago had my heart, but after the last few days, I desperately needed to leave the Windy City behind me, lick my wounds, and spend the holidays with people who didn't know me. My mom moved with my stepdad to Palm Springs a few years ago. I'd avoided visiting them for over two years, but this year, Chicago was the last place I wanted to be.

My stepbrother, Oliver, was a hockey player. Drafted six months ago after his senior year of college into the NHL, with his degree, of course. I was so proud of him. Three years younger than me, we grew up together and, for all intents and purposes, Ollie was my baby brother.

And bugged me like one in the best way, at least when he wasn't with his mom on alternate weeks.

I loved him. Oliver accepted all my quirks and tattoos and piercings when my mother and stepfather rolled their eyes at my "phase" despite the fact that I'd always been…me. In Chicago, no one batted an eye at my tats, or piercings, or the way I dressed. If anything, what I looked liked worked to my advantage. When I teamed up with Delinda, my bestie, and began the pop up songwriters spotlights in conjunction with local artists and chefs, the record execs took notice. Local bars and restaurants, even art galleries, were lining up to host the once a month events.

Thankfully, we didn't have another event until mid January, which meant I could escape to Love Canyon, just outside of Palm Springs, and spend the holidays with my mom and my stepdad. And Ollie, at least for a few days.

Maybe I was burned out, too. But that was beside the point.

Draft day in Chicago when the Revenge picked Ollie felt like a dream, and we made it a family affair. The team sent him to play for their AHL satellite team as per usual. Marcus had been in Chicago at the same time for a client's promotional appearance. And I was dumb enough to fall for his charm at the hotel bar over IPAs.

That should have been my first clue that Marcus was all about his ‘image', which didn't include a public relationship. Or commitment of any kind. Unless you counted him hooking up with his ex-wife, sneaking around with his assistant, and the neighbor in his high rise. Two doors down.

All the while telling me I was the only one, but that he wanted to keep his ‘private life' private . As a sports agent, some of his highest ranking clients were either being drafted or NHL players.

And he wanted Oliver on his roster, but Fortress and Kellan Horne had watched out for my baby brother since before his high school days.

God. Na?ve, dumb…blinded by what whispered words in the dark, flowers sent when he was ‘out of town' and texts.

Which was how I found out I wasn't special.

Steeling my resolve, I shoved my phone into my carry-on after giving the attendant a smile as he scanned my phone. When I stepped in the plane, the cool air and confined space made my insides churn.

No men. Just the holidays. And family. Deep breaths.

Just make it through takeoff, Mikayla. Then, it's smooth sailing until landing. Fuck my life.

Then, I saw him .

Broad shoulders, muscular forearms. Dark hair, begging for fingers to run through it. And glasses that only made his baby blues even more pronounced and mesmerizing when he turned to face me.

No, Mikayla. No more feelings or getting lost in someone else. Once is enough. Remember, no men. Just the holidays. Family.

I glanced around the plane, the anxiety hitting me all over again. For as much as I flew, you'd think I would have a handle on my fears. The actual flying I had no issue with. Lift off and touchdown?

My heart raced, my skin heated and my stomach rolled. Which was why I flew first-class. More space, the armrests tended to feel more like a stress ball than hockey stick, and after, a drink to celebrate not hyperventilating and passing out.

"I'm not going to think about getting laid, Alex," the-so-not-my-usual type straight-laced hunk of a holiday present muttered as he balanced his phone between his ear and shoulder and stowed his bag.

If I had to be stuck on a plane, at least I could have a little fun before a full-blown panic attack hits when the engines fire up and we takeoff. But no more. No men. Just the holidays. And family.

"One more drink and I'll spill all my secret identities."

My eyes fixated on his lips, then the way his blue eyes sparkled. No wait, not sparkled. They burned. Like a flame that's so hot, but it's a color that you nearly miss, but you have to take a second look because it's so rare. Maybe I needed a ‘get on and get over holly jolly good time'.

My fingers twitched with the need to take off those Ray Ban black frames and see if Ry was as sexy as I was imagining in my only slightly buzzed and oversexed mind. The idea of revenge sex whispered louder and louder with every sip of drink number three. Thank God first-class meant a decent lunch, so I didn't make a total fool out of myself. Dessert might tip me over the edge, though, I thought as the attendant placed a decadent looking chocolate and was that red velvet and fucking Oreos dream-filled plate in front of me. Then my sexy in a smart-and-nerdy-way neighbor? Every moment was better than the last.

I picked up the fork and grinned. "You have more than one? Just don't tell me you're Santa."

He sipped from his drink and eyed me over the rim before answering. "Not going to lie. I thought you were going to add something about sitting on my lap."

I swallowed delicately and gasped over the orgasm in my mouthful the simply devilish dessert had been. "Why, sir, I do believe you are thinking about getting laid." I bit the fork between my teeth, not caring if I was going to end up on Santa's naughty list. Hell, I might as well go all the way for that damn lump of coal. At least for the time it took to fly from Chicago to Palm Springs. Then no men. Just the holidays. And family. "Or about what will pop up."

He choked on his dessert and coughed before washing it down with the rest of his drink. "I thought we were trying to not let me think about that."

After I realized my stranger had turned into my super hero and made me have the best takeoff ever and plied him with a drink or two, I wrangled the truth out of my Clark Kent lookalike's gorgeously wicked lips.

Falling for your childhood best friend only to have them fall for one of your other best friends almost trumped my three other side chicks situationship for wallowing in drinks and flying off to the middle of the desert to hide from your woes.

We were a match made in Santa's Naughtiest List workshop. If only because ignorance was bliss and running from your problems was the most un-adult thing and simultaneously adult to do.

Perhaps a holiday miracle would make us both forget about the real world for a little while.

Or not , I thought as I took another bite and moaned. No men. Just the holidays, and family, I repeated the mantra in my head. "This has to be the best thing I've put in my mouth in a long while." Have fun while you can, until the wheels touch down. Then, done. Over. No more thinking about Marcus.

He paused, fork midway to his mouth, then sat it back down on his plate, studying it like the chocolate and red decadence was a puzzle to be solved. "Hmm."

"Hmm? That's all you got?"

With a grin, he shrugged. Eyes scorching and exposing the hurt I kept buried with insane accuracy. "Just tells me the other guy wasn't worth your time." I watched as he lifted the fork again, and fuck if his lips and the sneaky little peek of his tongue wasn't doing all kinds of crazy things like making things tingle where they shouldn't in a semi public place.

I returned with a wicked grin. "Or maybe chocolate can solve all a girl's problems."

Ryan pointed his fork at me. "Or maybe you need to find someone who doesn't mind chocolate and you together."

Great. Now I was imagining him using that damn tongue and licking chocolate off my naked body. With his glasses on before whipping them off to lick all the places that were currently begging for his attention. "Sounds like a Christmas Miracle to me."

"Sounds like the best present ever," he murmured just as the flight attendant interrupted, asking if we needed anything else. "Coffee? I only had a few hours' sleep last night," he admitted, eyes locked on my mouth. I finished the last bite.

"Work?"

He tipped his chin in agreement. "My mom is a Christmas nut, and I know she will probably have a long list of holiday plans, which will not include work time unless I sneak away. Which kind of defeats the entire purpose of escaping that world for a little while."

"Ah, I understand. My mom texted me for a week straight, all Christmas related. Most of which included introducing me to all her new friends' sons. But she was very adamant that it was so I wouldn't be lonely and not at all about setting me up." I rolled my eyes and bit my lip. The way his eyes darted to my mouth made me wonder what he tasted like.

Bad girl, Mikayla. The last thing you need is another complication. As much as I'd love a good revenge fuck, Ryan looks like the kind of guy you bring home to your parents.

Not the kind you beg to spank you or tie you up with Christmas lights and stuff your stocking until you take a long winter's nap. No matter how Naughty you feel.

Talk about Deck My Halls, Daddy. No men doesn't have to mean no fun ? One little fling?

One night wouldn't have to turn into regrets or feelings or hell, even a fuck the people who have either fucked us over or ended up with someone else. Though, in Ryan's situation, it sounds like he's genuinely happy for his friends. Me? Not so much.

Maybe I'm the only one looking for a revenge fuck. But…

Ryan needs a get on another sleigh and ride until you forget all about the present you wished was under the tree.

Oh, holy night of holiday cliches.

I sipped my last drink and vowed to cut myself off.

"To the holidays and meddling, but well-meaning, mothers."

A laugh escaped my lips. "And to doing our best to avoid the well-meaning entanglements they not so subtly toss our way, wrapped in sparkling paper and ribbons!"

"Thank you, Ryan, for," I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry, as the words escaped me. How did this random stranger take away the fear I'd lived with for twenty-odd years by just touching my skin? Those damn baby blues helped, but I'd flown with Oliver, my parents, even my bestie, yet no one had ever distracted me enough that takeoff and touchdown passed without me noticing. Or caring.

No men. Just the holidays. And family, I repeated as my damn belly had those butterflies and desire flooded my veins.

He dipped his head as we stood in the middle of Palm Springs Airport, both trying to find the words after picking up our luggage off the carousels with the rest of the flyers coming home or catching connecting flights. "Think of it as your very own Christmas Miracle."

God, his voice slid down my spine. Honey and cinnamon and something else I desperately wanted to taste, lick, consume.

No. Men.

Instead, I smirked and winked, hand on my hip as I adjusted my carryon. "Well, hopefully, I kept your mind off getting laid."

He choked out a laugh, and pushed his glasses up his nose with his middle finger, forearm flexing. A small moan, like one of those damn elves from Prep and Landing, snuck out before I could stop myself, but I quickly covered it up with a cough. "Yeah, something like that." The Clark Kent lookalike who I knew would live rent free in my mind for a long time after this Christmas stuck out his hand, and the minute we made contact, a jolt of electricity shot down my spine. As if the Universe yelled a hint both of us were trying to ignore.

But, ignore we did, with one last lingering glance before I murmured, "Goodbye, Clark Kent. Stay strong."

The way he blushed as he tossed a playful glare in my direction? Swoon. "Don't reveal my secret identity."

Electricity crackled between us, eyes locked, and I bit my lip before I said, "Your secret is safe with me, CK." I walked away, adding a little extra sway in my hips as he chuckled.

And for the first time since I could remember, I felt a little lighter and all my fucks were given away.

A real Christmas Miracle. Sigh. Stuck on the nice list.