Page 14 of Flight Plan
“You really don’t remember?”
She pressed her lips flat as bits and pieces drifted through her mind.
“Horus and Chloe?” He spit out names as if they’d jog her memories.
“Who?”
“We met them, Horus and his girlfriend Chloe, in the bar under the tattoo parlor. They liked you. They liked you so much that when you asked them to give you a tattoo right then, they agreed. You pointed to my T-shirt and said, ‘I want that.’”
Before leaving Bluff House last night, they had gone to their rooms and hastily changed out of their finery before sneaking down to the six-bay garage. So, it made sense Wesley had changed into his logo T-shirt.
He sure loved his swag. Apparently, he carried some wherever he went, always ready to promote his gaming brand. He’d even tossed her a sponsored shirt as she’d exited her room. It likely still lay on the floor where she’d flung it before pulling the doorknob tightly closed, eager to get going.
“What the f—” She calmed enough to catch the cursing, rephrasing, “What was I thinking?” Horus’s bald, tattooed head and Chloe’s beautifully detailed sleeves flashed in her memory. “I wasn’t thinking. I need to get it together.”
“Maybe you just need a little help decompressing.”
“I’m not drinking for a long time.”
“I don’t mean alcohol.”
Ava rolled her gaze over his sexy torso, wondering whether he might want to rekindle what happened between them last night, thinking of one way to blow off steam.
“Have you tried meditation? It helps to quiet the mind. There’ll be another class starting soon.”
She scrunched her nose.
“Let’s try some breathing and mindfulness first. Positive intentions are always a great start.”
“Yeah, well, this woo-woo shit doesn’t work on me.”
“Really?” His brows lifted. “So, you’ve tried it?”
“Not exactly.”
“Only fear holds you back.”
She narrowed her gaze, irked he knew the right words to reach her. “I don’t know how to do it. And I’d feel weird sitting with other people.”
“Okay. We can try it right here. Five minutes. What have you got to lose?”
The shoji screens, though torn in several places, offered enough privacy. A few more minutes here alone with him couldn’t hurt.
She didn’t protest, and he grinned. “Think of something you want, or you want to change. Concentrate on it.”
She chewed her bottom lip, contemplating until she nodded.
“You’ve got something?”
“Yes. Something I want to change.”
“Great. Keep breathing. While you’re breathing, I want you to make this change a statement, an intention.”
“Just think it?”
“Yes. You state,I will… What is it that you want?”
“I want to stop swearing.”