The Fighters Girl

1.

Hazel stood up on her tiptoes to push her carryon bag into the overhead compartment, completely unaware of the small show she was giving the male patrons. Her old Aerosmith shirt lifted up a little and showed her toned stomach and belly ring. With one last shove, she finally got it to fit and she slid into her seat and set her backpack on the seat next to her so that she could get situated."Can you move your bag?" an annoyed voice came from next to her. She looked up and froze. Standing above her (way, way above her) was the picture of rugged perfection himself. He was absolutely gorgeous, his jet black bed-head, his bright startling green eyes, his bulging muscles, the freckles sprinkling over his nose, even his callused scarred hands were sexy.

Apparently, Hazel had been staring for too long, because he let out a frustrated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. He picked up her bag, tossed it into her lap, and sat down. She stared at him incredulously for a few seconds while he clenched his jaw and pretended she wasn't there.

Finally she huffed, any fantasies she may or may not have been entertaining about in-flight entertainment gone. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text message to her dad saying that she was on the flight to Moorhead. When she turned it back off, she caught him looking at her phone from the corner of her eye.She stuffed it in her bag with a little more force than necessary and glared at her tray table, folding her arms over her stomach. "It's rude to look at other people's conversations," she said in a biting tone, not sparing him a glance. She saw his head whip to her out of her peripheral vision, but didn't dare look.After a few seconds he chuckled wryly and turned to stare at his tray table as well.

"It's rude to put your bag in someone else's seat," he finally said.

"It's rude to take someone else's bag and throw it at them," she immediately shot back.

"Oh, so I was supposed to wait for you to be ready for me to sit down? Hold up the whole line?"

"No, but you could have waited less than five-seconds for me to move my own bag."

She caught a movement and turned slightly to see him shaking his head with a hard look on his face.Her eyes were drawn down to his huge wall of a chest and she narrowed her eyes at the sight of one of her favorite bands.

What a waste. 

She finally leaned against the window and closed her eyes settling in for a long flight. 

Hawkins glanced at the adorably frustrating blonde sitting next to him. With her eyes closed and her mouth relaxed and not set in a harsh line, he could have easily leaned over and kissed her. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but he could see all the different colors in it, blonde, auburn, golden, brown. Her eyes were a color he had never seen before. A dark ocean blue 

A dark blue ringed in black fringed with thick lashes. He was glad she had closed them, because he was on the verge of apologizing just because of them.

And he didn't like to apologize. 

Especially not to adorably frustrating blondes.

He looked closer at her face, convincing himself it was safe to do so because she wouldn't know. He counted a total of thirty-four freckles on her nose and upper cheeks. His finger automatically went to his own then when he realized what he was doing, he dropped his hand immediately.

His eyes honed in on her lips, as any man's would. Her upper lip formed a perfect cupid's bow, and her lower lip curved enticingly. At that moment, he would have given anything for a taste.

He had seen her face when she first saw him. He knew that, before he opened his big fat mouth, he had a shot.

For that reason, along with the fact that he felt a little bad for taking out his frustrations on this sexy, feisty girl, he reached out and let his index finger run over her exposed arm. He didn't miss the insignia on her shirt, and it put a smile on his face.