I hated to ask anything of him after being such a dick, but it was more than me not wanting to be alone. I was genuinely enjoying his company. Zeke had a calming effect, even when he was frustrated with me, and it didn’t hurt that he was unconventionally good-looking. He was missing the swagger of men who had experienced high school as a typical popular jock getting a blow job from a different cheerleader every weekend. He’d probably glowed-up after graduation and his former co-eds were all kicking themselves when they came across him on social media. Hopefully—especially—the one who’d stopped loving him.

I nodded to answer his question. He had no idea how hot he was, and I liked that.

The corners of his mouth turned up, a hint of a smile on his face. “Then I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” I said, tapping my fingers against my hand, returning my sights on the ceiling.

Zeke was pure, effortless, and everything else I needed more of in my life.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Wanna hang out again?”

“Sure.” I wasn’t sure if I was coming across as indifferent as I wanted. I realized too late that Colorado Springs was about four thousand feet higher in elevation than Vegas, and that always slightly messed with my ability to drink.

“Yeah?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling at him.

“Still not sleeping with you,” he said, serious.

I breathed out a laugh, turned my back to him, and fell asleep.

chapter ten

widow

Zeke

W

atts was staring a hole through me, waiting for me to answer. We’d been loading carbs since we arrived in the lobby at four a.m., preparing for the hike in since the current crew had reported not being able to get in by helo. They didn’t have our pilot, though.

We sat at our crumb-covered table, the sweat rings from our waters beginning to resemble Olympic symbols, syrup dribbles dotting any spaces not covered by dirty plates, and powdered sugar dusting the edges. I got up to get a rag, trying to save Darby or anyone else the trouble of cleaning up after us.

“Hey,” I said, seeing Reese ambling around near Check-In.

She walked over, her tank top still white, a contrast against her bronze skin. She was usually covered in grease. The sleeves of her olive-green coveralls were tied loosely around her waist. I wasn’t sure I’d seen her in any other outfit.

“Hey,” she spoke around the wad of gum in her mouth. “You getting ready to roll out?” She waited then prompted me again. “Ground control to Zeke,” she said, snapping twice in my face.

“Sorry, it’s weird to see you here without your pilot. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of you without the other unless he’s in the air.”