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Airplanes were impatient. Everyone knew that. That's why it was important to arrive early, find the correct gate, and be ready to go all before even finding coffee.
Marinette, who was late for almost everything, had never missed a plane because she followed the rules of the air and respected the hurry-up-and-wait-mentality for the duration of travel.
Sometimes the planes didn't follow the rules, no matter how well she did. Sometimes it was the plane that was late, and instead of being two hours early and having just enough time for security and a cup of much-needed coffee… travellers got stuck with three cups of coffee, the jitters, and time to kill.
She had finished a book and caught up with her emails. Slumping into her seat where she was only halfway through a three-hour delay, Marinette glared at her phone for not being more entertaining. The Tinder logo caught her eye. She had barely set it up before making travel plans and forgetting about it.
Maybe she could glance at a few profiles, make a date for when she got back. That could be fun. Traveling was brutal for relationships… most guys wanted a girl who would be available at their beck and call, not off wowing the world with her fashion designs and all but non-existent for the two months leading up to fashion week.
Her profile laid that all out from the get-go. Surely, that would weed the clingy or controlling ones out.
The first couple of "matches" seemed nice enough, not bad looking, but not exactly eye-catching either. She swiped left for no. One guy was striking, but his profile said he wanted "a little lady to stay home and keep house for him." Hard no. How had he even been presented to her?
She swiped right on a couple of guys who did not have a fish in their photo, lived in France, but mentioned travel. She could message them later.
No.
No.
Ew. No.
Hmm. Maybe. Yes.
Marinette froze. Bright blue eyes under dark hair practically pierced her from behind the screen. Luke Stone. Her heart thudded in her chest… but rock stars didn't use Tinder, so there was no way the profile pic was real. Not even remotely interested in liars, she swiped left. No.
Too bad.
"Ouch. Hard no on that one, huh?"
Marinette swiveled in her seat to see a guy leaning forward from the seat behind her. A guy with piercing blue eyes and dark, blue-tipped hair. The same guy she had just swiped no on.
"Bu—Uh… there's no way. You. He. Rockstars don't use Tinder! Had to be a scam. Stolen pic."
She wasn't making any sense, but Luke- freaking-Stone was smirking at her. Who could be sensible under the circumstances?
He lifted his phone, the Tinder app up with her smiling face on the screen. Very deliberately, he swiped right.
"This Rockstar signed up for Tinder the moment he realized what you were doing."
"Why?" Marinette asked. It wasn't that she wasn't a confident person; she was successful and reasonably attractive and clever…but she wasn't used to being noticed by hot guys. There was always someone in the room who was more noticeable or prettier or who exuded the kind of raw sex appeal that worked like some sort of mystical magnetism.
She had never been a guy magnet.
"Because life is short and you are hot."
Marinette felt her cheeks heat. She glanced down at her phone and tapped the rewind button—maybe paying for Tinder Plus hadn't been the most foolish thing in the world. When Luke's photo reappeared, she opened his profile.
Luka Couffaine.
Likes music. Frequent Traveler. Willing to miss a flight for a dark-haired beauty.
She snapped her head up, puzzled. "Miss a flight?"
Luke—no, Luka—pointed out the window where a jet was screaming into the sky as it took off.
"I was hoping that meeting you would be worth it."
Heart galloping, she held his cerulean gaze while she swiped right.
"I'm Marinette."
Luka leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her cheek… too intimate for a traditional bise, but very sweet.
"It's nice to meet you, Marinette."