Flight Risk has released! Yay! Confetti! Fireworks! Airplane rides for everyone!
I’ve talked ad naseum about this book, and I’m sure I could keep doing so, but I’ll keep it short and sweet today. The long awaited release day! We’ve got buy links, guest post links, and excerpts at the end.
If you read Flight Risk I’d love to hear from you! Facebook, Twitter, email, leaving a review–it’s all good.
Here’s where you can buy:
And here’s where you can read a new excerpt. (Warning: penis joke ahead!)
Trevor took a deep breath and framed Callie’s face with his hands. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She was confused for a moment and then she tried to look down, but he couldn’t let it be that easy. She deserved more, and she had to see it not just hear it. “Believe me when I say there is a part of me that would like nothing better than to finish what we started.”
“Yeah, that part is called your dick.” When he didn’t even crack a smile, she shrugged a little, tried to wriggle away. “Jeez. It was a joke.”
“I don’t want to joke. I want to be honest. I want to…” God, he wanted to kiss her again. To feel the soft expanse of her skin. He wanted to take her clothes off slowly and…
Trevor closed his eyes, tried to erase the images careening through his mind. “I want to explain because I don’t want things to be weird between us again.” He reopened his eyes. “You mean too much to me for us to go down this road. Because, bottom line, I’m leaving.”
She wiggled again, but he held firm and she stilled. “I get it, Trevor. Really.” Her eyes refused to meet his.
“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t say this.” He waited and waited until she finally met his gaze again. “I don’t want to be the one that hurts you. Maybe that’s egotistical of me to think I could, but I don’t want to be the one who walks away and leaves you hurting. I’ll have to walk away, Callie. You know that.”
“Yes, I know.” Her voice was soft and it caused him to gentle his hold, to brush the pads of his thumbs across her jaw.
“Don’t,” she said, a slight crack to her voice, and that hint of vulnerability was the only thing that had him dropping his hands.
She took a step away from him and wrapped her arms around herself. Like magic, she pulled herself together, hiding all the little chinks in her armor, all those pockets of vulnerability, and suddenly she was Callie standing in front of him. Strong, invincible, in charge, and he wobbled in her shadow.
“Now, brace yourself, Trevor, because I’m going to be really honest here.” She tried to smile to lighten the mood, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It didn’t reach anything. “You could hurt me.”
She let that hang in the air for a minute, her eyes holding his, her hands clutching her arms as if that was her grip on strength.
“So, you’re right. We can’t do this because I’m starting to think I’m finally getting to a point where I can heal. Finally getting to a point where I want to. I think that means letting myself have a real relationship if the right guy comes along.”
Something clutched in his heart, but was immediately gutted by her next words.
“You’re not the right guy, Trevor.”
He should nod and accept that, but he couldn’t. He had to know it wasn’t that simple. “Because I’m leaving.”
She stepped toward him and traced his hairline with her finger before she met his eyes again. “Because I’m Pilot’s Point.” She dropped her hand. “And you’re not.” Flat. Final. Sure. He wished he could feel any of those things, mostly sure.
He took her hand in his, squeezed. “Is it pathetic we’re letting addresses keep us from doing this?”
She shook her head almost vehemently. “No. They aren’t just addresses. You’re FBI through and through, and without AIF, I’m nothing. It’s more to us than just. It’s who we are.”
He swallowed and when she pulled her hand away, he let it fall, let the connection end. For the first time in his whole life, he wished he could be Pilot’s Point. He wished he could stay.