Chapter Text
The airport café buzzed with the usual mix of espresso steam, suitcase wheels, and the muffled bark of boarding calls. Colin sat at the far end, tucked into a corner table with a perfect view of the runways. His navy pilot’s jacket was draped neatly over the back of the chair, sleeves of his white shirt rolled to the forearm. A black coffee cooled in front of him, unread newspaper folded on the table.
He’d been a pilot long enough that airports no longer held glamour — but there was a certain satisfaction in these in-between moments. Forty minutes until boarding for Santorini. Forty minutes to drink coffee, watch the dance of planes on the tarmac, and pretend the rest of his life wasn’t waiting for him.
⸻
Penelope dropped her bag onto the café chair with a groan. Maya and Jess followed, both wearing the grin of women who’d already decided this trip was going to fix everything.
“Three iced lattes,” Maya announced, scanning the pastry display. “And something indecent with chocolate.”
“Something Greek,” Jess corrected, eyebrows waggling. “You know… to set the tone.”
Penelope smirked. “And what tone would that be?”
Jess leaned across the table. “The tone of getting over someone by getting under someone else.”
Maya snapped her fingers. “Amen. Preach.”
Penelope rolled her eyes, but the knot in her stomach tightened. It had been three months since she’d walked out on Tom, and she still wasn’t sure if the hollow feeling was grief or relief. She’d agreed to this girls’ trip because she wanted to be the kind of person who moved on easily — but so far, she’d mostly been the kind of person who avoided eye contact with happy couples.
⸻
Maya froze mid-sentence, her gaze fixed somewhere over Penelope’s shoulder. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Don’t turn around yet. But… there’s a man over there who could melt steel just by existing.”
Jess followed Maya’s gaze and made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a purr. “Oh, wow. He’s not just hot. He’s… dangerous hot.”
“Define dangerous,” Penelope said, amused despite herself.
Jess ticked off on her fingers. “Tall enough that you’d feel small in the best way. Shoulders so broad they should come with a building permit. Hair that says ‘I don’t care’ but also ‘I absolutely care.’”
“And,” Maya added, “the forearms. My God, the forearms. Veins, muscle, everything. He’s in uniform, Pen. Pilot uniform. And he’s wearing it like a sin.”
Jess smirked. “I bet he smells like expensive cologne and bad decisions.”
Penelope laughed, shaking her head. “You two are ridiculous.”
“No, we’re invested in your recovery,” Maya said. “And right now, recovery looks like that man, six feet away, possibly capable of doing things that should be illegal in several countries.”
Penelope took a long sip of water. “Fine. One look.”
She turned her head — slowly, casually — and froze.
He was exactly as described, and then some. Relaxed in his seat, coffee in one hand, tablet in the other, sunlight catching the sharp line of his jaw. His shirt stretched just enough across his chest to suggest definition without vanity. And when he shifted, she caught a glimpse of lean waist beneath broad shoulders, the kind of build that came from discipline, not luck.
He looked… steady. Grounded. And yet there was a restless energy in the set of his mouth, like he was thinking about being somewhere else entirely.
Penelope turned back before he could catch her staring.
“Okay,” she said lightly. “He’s… fine.”
“Fine?!” Maya looked scandalized. “That man is a walking turbulence warning.”
Jess grinned wickedly. “You need to give him your number.”
Penelope nearly choked. “Absolutely not.”
Maya leaned in. “Come on. You’re single, you’re about to spend four days on an island in the sun, and if you’re serious about moving on, this is step one. Get over Tom. Get under someone else.”
Penelope groaned. “You two are incorrigible.”
Jess slid a pen and a napkin across the table. “You don’t have to marry him. You don’t even have to talk to him again if you don’t want to. But you will regret not trying.”
Penelope stared at the blank napkin, pulse quickening. Then, before she could think better of it, she wrote:
You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in an airport.
555-0169
She folded it once, palms a little damp. “This is ridiculous.”
“It’s perfect,” Maya whispered. “Go. Before your courage evaporates.”
⸻
Penelope stood, heart hammering, and walked toward him. He looked up just as she reached the table. Without a word, she placed the note beside his coffee and turned away.
But just before she rounded the corner, she glanced over her shoulder.
His eyes met hers — blue, amused, sharper than she expected. And then he smiled, slow and warm, like he’d just discovered something worth keeping.
She smiled back, quick and shy, before vanishing into the crowd.
Colin stared after her, catching the sway of her hips in jeans that fit like sin. He unfolded the note, read it twice, and let out a low, surprised laugh.
Chris was going to have a field day with this.