Chapter 1: Sparks by the Poolside
Bonnie lounged by the pool of the sprawling apartment complex near the airport, her bronzed skin glistening under the midday sun. Her tiny bikini left little to the imagination, and she knew it. She wasn’t here to play nice or make friends; she was here to forget the sting of betrayal after catching her ex with that snake, Sharon. Her eyes, hidden behind dark sunglasses, scanned the area with a predator’s sharpness, daring anyone to disturb her solitude.
Enter Glen, a wiry man with a mechanic’s rough hands and a pilot’s swagger, who’d been watching her from the corner of the pool deck. He sauntered over, a cocky grin plastered on his face, adjusting his shades as if they could shield him from her inevitable rejection.
‘Hey there, gorgeous. Mind if I join you? I’ve got a few stories about flying that might just take your breath away,’ Glen drawled, his voice dripping with misplaced confidence.
Bonnie didn’t even bother to lift her sunglasses. ‘Bug off, flyboy. I’m not in the mood for cheap pickup lines or your cockpit fantasies,’ she snapped, her tone as sharp as a blade.
Glen chuckled, undeterred, leaning closer. ‘Come on, sweetheart. I’m just trying to brighten your day. You look like you could use a thrill.’
She sat up abruptly, her gaze now piercing through the shades. ‘Listen, I don’t know if you’re deaf or just dumb, but I said bug off. I’m not your sweetheart, and I don’t need your kind of thrill. So, take your little ego and crash it somewhere else.’ Her words were venomous, each one a deliberate strike.
Glen raised his hands in mock surrender, backing off with a smirk. ‘Alright, alright, I get it. Ice queen. But I’ll be around if you change your mind.’ He winked before turning away, leaving Bonnie to simmer in her irritation.
As the sun dipped lower, Bonnie’s thoughts churned darker. She wasn’t just angry at Glen’s audacity; she was raw from the betrayal that still burned in her chest. She needed a drink, something strong to numb the ache. The nearby bar, a haunt for locals and aviation nuts, seemed like the perfect escape. Little did she know, Glen had the same idea, his eyes tracking her from a distance as she strode in later that night, her presence commanding even in her distress.
She sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey, when Glen slid onto the stool beside her. ‘Didn’t expect to see you here, Ice Queen. Thought you’d be freezing someone else out by now,’ he teased, signaling for a drink.
Bonnie’s lips curled into a sneer. ‘And I thought creeps like you stayed in their hangars. What, no planes to fix tonight?’ Her voice was laced with disdain, but Glen only laughed.
‘Oh, I’ve got plenty to fix, but I’d rather tinker with something... hotter,’ he quipped, his eyes roaming over her with blatant intent.
‘Keep dreaming, grease monkey. I’m not a project for you to screw around with,’ she shot back, downing her drink in one swift motion. The burn of the whiskey matched the fire in her gut, but something felt off. Her head spun slightly, the room tilting as Glen’s smirk grew wider.
‘You okay there, Bonnie? Looking a little flushed,’ he said, his tone mockingly concerned as he leaned in, his hand brushing her arm.
Her vision blurred, but her mind screamed danger. She tried to push him away, her strength waning. ‘Get... away from me,’ she slurred, her body betraying her as Glen’s grip tightened, guiding her out of the bar into the cool night air.
The world faded to black, but not before she felt the rough texture of his jacket against her skin, the distant hum of the airport growing fainter. Whatever was coming next, Bonnie knew it would be a fight—one she wasn’t about to lose, no matter how hard or how dirty she had to play. And as her consciousness slipped, a primal part of her stirred, ready to turn the tables when the time was right.
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