I yelp when I see Colin Mann. My heartbeat quickens, which tends to happen when I'm surprised — and when I'm in Colin's presence. With his messy salt and pepper hair, smoldering violet eyes, and defined jawline, I find him beyond sexy, which is a tiny bit awkward as he's one of my father's closest friends.
"Mr. Mann, what are you doing here?" I ask, hoping my face isn't as red as a tomato. He caught me singing Hannah Montana, and he caught me singing it very badly.
"I own this plane," he says.
My eyes jump out of their sockets.
WORD COUNT: 2,500
A naughty short story about a young woman and her dad's best friend!
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