"Uh, excuse me. Hello. Hi there." We glanced over to find a man smiling at us from the aisle. "I'm traveling with my family today and we're thankful to be on our way but we're scattered all over the plane." He motioned to a pair of kids next to him who didn't look much older than Percy. A woman sat perched on the edge of the seat across from us, bouncing a toddler on her lap as she watched. "We were able to cobble together a few seats over here but I was wondering if one of y'all might be willing to trade with me so my wife isn't all on her own with these little monsters."
Before I could process the request, Audrey shot up and stepped into the aisle, saying, "Oh my goodness, of course. You can have mine and I'll move."
I stood but the only thing I could manage to get out was "But?—"
Ignoring me, the guy pressed a hand to his chest and said to Audrey, "You don't know how much I appreciate this."
"No worries," she replied, pulling her carry-on out from underneath the seat. "I don't mind at all. It's been such a hectic day for everyone." She glanced at me as she stepped into the aisle. "I'll see you when we land."
I nodded, still reeling from the newest change of plans. "Yeah," I managed. "I'll wait outside the gate." She smiled, her arms wrapped around her bag and her finger still wedged between the pages of her book. For no good reason at all, I added, "Let me know if you need anything."
She gave a quiet laugh that seemed to sayWhat would I need you for?and then, "I'm sure I'll be all right."
I watched her pick her way to her new seat and kept staring even when the only thing I could see was the golden crown of her head. I wasn't sure what I hoped to accomplish but I edged into the aisle. There was a chance I'd be able to barter myself into a seat closer to Audrey. It was possible. Maybe not realistic or even smart but still possible.
But maybe it was better to let her go. Give her space. Remind myself how to function around her—and how to shield myself from that gravity of hers. This journey hadn't even started and I was already drunk off her smiles.
A flight attendant stopped in front of me, her hands fisted on her hips. "Sir, I need you to take your seat right away."
"Yeah," I said with one last glance toward Audrey. She wasn't looking for me and that told me everything I needed to know. "Sorry for the disruption."
When I dropped into my seat, my new companion shoved his hand toward me, saying, "Clint. Thanks again for helping us out."
"Hey." I shook his hand but I didn't like it. I wanted to glare at him for the next five hours. I rubbed my forehead until new grooves formed in my skin instead.
The flight seemed ridiculously long. The hours stretched out every second into thin eternities just to fuck with me. The work I should've tackled sat unopened, my laptop screen going dark only for me to swipe the touchpad every few minutes and wake it up again. Engine test data, design analysis, even new models—things that usually caught my attention and swallowed me whole—blurred after a minute.
I told myself to stop thinking about her. There was no point in obsessing. I'd learned that the hard way—and then learned it a few more times.
But that didn't drive her out of my head. The whole damn plane seemed to vibrate with her presence. Every attempt toconcentrate spiraled into an endless mental loop of her voice, her hair falling over her shoulder, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass.
By the time we hit cruising altitude, I'd already turned the same thought over a hundred different ways: I was in so much fucking trouble.
chapter fourteen
Audrey
Today's vocabulary word: halfway
By the timewe landed in Salt Lake City, I was hot trash. Every muscle held a grudge after nearly six hours crammed between a knitter with stabby elbows and someone who'd claimed the armrest and at least twenty percent of the real estate around it, not to mention the very robust perfume situation behind me. Everything was wrinkled and slightly damp from the recycled air and clammy seat. Hot, hot trash.
The hard cider hadn't done me any favors either. My brain felt like it was the wrong size for my skull. My belly was annoyed with me even though I usually tolerated cider pretty well and hadn't eaten anything that should've caused a flare.Should'vebeing the operative word here. There was nothing more whimsical than an irritable gut, forever selecting the worst times to reject foods that'd long been proven safe and causing all kinds of merry havoc.
I'd kept watch for an opening to grab my meds and a peppermint tea bag from my carry-on without agitating my seatmates, but it never came. The one time I attempted to inchthe bag into reach with my feet, the armrest imperialist bumped my knee which sent me into the knitter, whoaccidentallyjabbed me in the side with the butt of her needle. Her apology sounded a lot like a ruler slap to the wrist. No tea for me.
All I did was sit and read—and fend off land wars—but by the end of the flight, I was exhausted like I'd barely finished a wilderness survival race. I needed a hot shower, a soft bed with silky sheets, and forty-eight hours to reincarnate.
I would not be getting that shower. Or the bed. Or any sleep at all.
"What do you mean, we're driving to Sedonatonight?" I ask-shrieked as Jude led me toward the rental car center.
All I'd wanted when I'd stepped off the jetway and into the terminal was a moment alone in a non-aircraft bathroom, hot water for my tea, and some eye contact with the knitter to give her a solid teacher stare.
I'd already doled out justice to the armrest guy. So sad how he was standing too close to me in the aisle to notice when I shouldered my bag and nailed him in the junk with it.
But I had bigger problems on my hands now. Namely, my fake fiancé's insistence on keeping these good times going with eight hours of driving through the night.
"Hotels are going to be packed with all these canceled flights," he said over his shoulder. "No point wasting time when we could hit the road now."
