Hanna threw her head back and cackled, grateful that this was the reception she got when Milo was probably getting his ass handed to him by Matty.
“Who was that Greek actor in that thing we saw last month?” Maricela snaps her fingers. “Nicolas whatever.”
“I think that guy’s Russian,” Hanna mumbled, scrolling through a litany of texts from Logan. She ignored them all and tapped over to Milo’s thread.
HANNA:
T-6 hours until the flight home.
How we feeling?
ALWAYS ANSWER
Like we’re going to need to book a redeye to untangle this mess.
HANNA
Is Matty mad?
ALWAYS ANSWER
I think just stunned. Doesn’t buy the ‘we’re just friends’ thing.
She typed out a message and then erased it, and then she did that a few more times, finally settling on something easier than the truth.
HANNA
Well, we ARE friends. Not sure what the appropriate suffix is.
ALWAYS ANSWER
Gimme 6 hours. I’ll come with a recommendation.
Her stomach did a little flip, and then it flipped back the other way. She realized that no matter what he suggested, she was terrified of fucking it up.
TWENTY-TWO
“You’re a back-of-the-plane girl?”
Milo shoved his carry-on into the overhead compartment and slid into the last row with her, flipping both the armrests up to make more room for him. Sara and Matty had landed somewhere in the middle, definitely out of earshot.
“Not typically.”
He followed her gaze toward Sara’s bright red headphones.
“Ah,” he mumbled. “Reading more dragon porn?”
She rolled her eyes, holding the cover-up. “No dragons. Fae, though.”
“The fuck is a Fae?”
Hanna sighed. “I think we have more pressing topics to cover.”
“We haven’t even taken off yet. We’re still in Vegas!” Milo pointed out the window at the tarmac. “Wanna join the twenty-foot club?”
“Milo.”
“Okay,” he relented. “I know you’ve been outlining your talking points for hours now, so have at it.”
