A Billionaire's Mistake

33|Figuratively Speaking

Chapter Thirty-Three: Figuratively Speaking

Lincoln

The flight to Los Angeles was already starting off on a bad note. Not only because I got seated in the middle right between Reed and Sienna, but also because, even in first class, I had a kid sitting behind me who kept kicking into my spine with the force of fucking Hercules. I tried to close my eyes and listen to music, then pulled out a science fiction novel to try and immerse myself into a different world. To my avail, the kicking continued, and for the first two hours of the flight, I was miserable.

Reed, sitting to my left in the aisle seat, fell asleep during the first ten minutes of the flight. I guess he gets motion sickness, so he takes a pill that knocks him out. Sienna is sitting on my right in the window seat, her thigh pressed up against mine. She warned me about a thousand times before I met her at the airport to keep it professional. Rachel and Margo are both attending as well, sitting in the row ahead of us, and per Sienna, Rachel has a tendency to blab her mouth, so it was imperative that I keep what we're doing together under wraps for the remainder of this trip.

So, yeah, between the kicking, the middle seat, and having Sienna be off-limits? Total. Fucking. Nightmare.

I let out a sigh and run my hands over my forehead to try and stop the throbbing that's already formed from my frustration. Sienna notices and pops an AirPod out of one ear. "Are you okay?" she asks, and then she hears the kicking, glancing behind over her shoulder to figure out what's producing the noise.

I don't ask her to, but she turns around fully and pokes her head through the threshold of the seats, and says, "If you were going to bring a child who kicks the entire fucking way, you should have purchased economy. Have you ever flown first class before? There are standards up here."

The adults accompanying the child let out a scoff, but neither of them says anything back to Sienna. The kicking subsides moments later. I forget how intimidating this woman really is, but in that pink power suit she's wearing, it's hard to be anything but intimidated. Seeing her stride so confidently through the airport today was a huge turn-on. She turned heads with each step she took in those heels, and although she portrays herself to be this badass woman, there are so many layers to her that I'm enjoying the hell out of discovering.

She's strong and opinionated, but also vulnerable and timid at times. Just when I think I've got her figured out, she does something that makes me second-guess myself, like cussing out a child for kicking a seat in first class.

"I told you we should have taken my jet," Sienna says.

"For the environment, I'd rather have a kid kicking me in the back the entire way than waste all of that money for a six-hour flight."

She arches a perfectly lined brow up. "Suit yourself, Lincoln. I'll let the booger-infested-germ-fest have at it if he starts back up again."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're going to be an incredible mother someday?" I tease.

"Who says I want to be a mother?"

"Well, it would certainly make me relieved then after hearing you call him..." I trail off, attempting to think of the nickname. "Remind me again of the nickname you came up with?"

"A booger-infested-germ-fest?"

I nod. "Precisely."

Her lips twitch, threatening a smile, and then I feel the outside of her thigh press even tighter against mine. It takes everything for me not to grab onto her knee. "Does that bother you?"

I'm so distracted by the feel of her thigh that I forgot what we were even talking about. "What?" I ask.

"The possibility of me not wanting kids."