“What’s going on with you?”
Ben was leaning forward in his window seat, eyeballing me as I clutched the armrests of my aisle seat. Considering how often I was on the road for competitions, you’d think my fear of flying would’ve decreased over the years, but it hung on, as stubborn as a grease stain on white cotton.
I shook my head, staring straight at the seat in front of me. “Nothing.”
He didn’t look away, and I could feel his eyes traveling up my body, cataloging every nuance.
“You’re nervous.”
“I’mfine.”
He shifted, still watching me, and I could tell the inquisition was about to level up.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and no one will be seated between us. These early flights are usually less crowded.”
“Yeah, I’m loving the six a.m. departure,” I snarked at him.
“We have a shitload to do today, and I knew you didn’t want to spend a second longer in Connecticut than necessary. Do youwant the window? Where would you feel more comfortable?” Ben started to unbuckle his seat belt, poised to jump up.
A woman in a navy blazer came to a stop by our row looking just as unhappy as I felt. “Sorry, this is me.”
She pointed to the middle seat, frowning.
“Of course,” I said, doing an awkward half stand so she could squeeze by me.
“Before you sit,” Ben began and the woman paused. He gestured toward me. “We’re actually together, and my friend is a nervous flyer. Would you like to have my window seat and I’ll take the middle, so the two of us can sit together?”
His unexpected kindness lowered my stress level by about 4 percent.
She glanced between the two of us and I waited for the inevitable spark of recognition, especially because she was within Ben’s target demo; a middle manager–type clutching her laptop under her arm, who probably mainlined reality TV.
If she recognized him she didn’t let on, which meant that we wouldn’t be forced to make small talk with her all the way to Hartford. In any other scenario I enjoyed connecting with skating fans, but flying meant that I needed to focus. I didn’t have the bandwidth to chat on flights because the only reason I hadn’t crashed yet was the power of my visualization of the plane remaining in the air for the entire flight.
“Um, sure,” she replied with an expression like she’d smelled something unpleasant. “But if you want to swap could I take the aisle instead? I get a little claustrophobic in the window seat.”
“Done,” Ben said.
The three of us shuffled our carry-ons and reading material and settled into our new seats, with Ben in the awful middle seat and me leaning against the window.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said quietly. “But I appreciate it.”
He bumped his shoulder against mine. “Happy to. I can be your human stress ball. If you’re feeling nervous, squeeze this.” Ben held up his hand.
“Have you been watching the weather?” I leaned forward to peek out the window at the gray sky. “Because it’s looking dicey in Connecticut.”
I started bouncing my leg and Ben gently placed his hand on my knee to stop it. “All I’ve seen is thepossibilityof snow. We’ll be okay.”
He sounded so convinced of it that I nearly believed him.
“Not if we get snowed in at my parents’ house.” I fell back against my seat and squeezed my eyes shut. “Oh my fucking god, this is a bad idea on so many levels. I swear, if I lose training time because Winter Storm Ronaldo strands us...” I trailed off because I wasn’t sure what sort of punishment fit the crime, and who would deserve it.
I only realized that Ben’s hand was still on my leg when he squeezed it. “Hey. Look at me.”
I opened my eyes reluctantly and felt a wave of calm unfurl when I saw Ben’s face, closer to mine than I was expecting. Capable. Focused. Trustworthy.
“If we get stranded—” Ben began.
I cut him off with a frustrated noise.
