Text Me Maybe (Manchester Bees Football Club #1)

Ding!

Scarlett Simmons’s face scrunched up, her eyes shut tight, as she tried to ignore the pleasant, feminine British accent on the overhead speaker.

“Good morning, passengers. It is Sunday, August tenth. The current time is half past seven a.m. as we descend into Manchester. Please make sure all trays and chairs are in their upright position. Please remain seated until after the plane has finished taxiing to retrieving your bags from the overhead compartments. It is eighteen degrees Celsius, sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit, and partly cloudy this morning. Thank you for flying British Airways, and we hope you enjoy your time in Manchester.”

Scarlett tried to bury her face in the tiny paper pillow that she had received after takeoff during her red-eye flight out of New York.