“What’s wrong?” Wyatt asks. “Slurp too fast and burn your tongue?”
I nudge him playfully. “Slurping actually helps cool them off.”
He blows on his noodles. “So what’s wrong then?”
I set my chopsticks down and sigh. It’s going to bother me until I tell someone. “My roommate is dating the pilot who flew us down here today.”
He shrugs. “Is it that Nathan guy?”
“I wish.” Then I wouldn’t feel sick over her situation. “But no. I found out on the way here that the pilot she’s dating is married.”
Wyatt’s light eyebrows leap toward his light curls. “It bothers me that you’re working with men like that.”
It bothers me too, obviously. But I’m not trying to make Wyatt sick. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m nauseous just trying to decide how to tell her.”
He sets his fork down. “You don’t think she already knows?”
I hadn’t wanted to consider that possibility. “I hope not.”
The instructor drops off a plate of green and orange mochi balls, eyes us, and moves on without comment.
Wyatt picks one up. “I’m glad to hear this bothers you. Because I get a little suspicious every time you slide your phone underneath your thigh as if you’re hiding something.”
I hadn’t even considered my actions from his perspective. I reach for his arm to explain. “Oh no, hon. I subconsciously put my phone under my leg because that’s what we’re taught to do in our jump seat for takeoff and landing.”
Wyatt takes a bite. “That’s good to hear.”
I set down my chopsticks, but not to pick up my own ice cream dessert. I’m here to show Wyatt how much I love him. Instead I feel even more distant than before. How do I fix this? And what else can I do to alleviate his fears? Maybe if Angel is as upset as I think she’ll be when I tell her she’s dating a married man, she’ll be open to dating Nathan, the way Wyatt had assumed.
Chapter Twenty
Nathan
Wehave learned toflytheairlike birds andswim thesealike fish, butwehave notlearned thesimple artofliving together asbrothers.
—MARTINLUTHERKINGJR.
Isurvey the bamboo floor and brush my hands off with pride. “Thanks, man. It looks incredible.”
Vincent studies me rather than the floor. “I see a huge improvement.”
I chuckle at that truth. My mood has drastically improved since our last flight together. Since almost running into Joey. “Rather than focus on what I’m running away from, I’m focused on where I’m headed.”
“With such words of wisdom, you’re going to have a lot to offer from the captain’s seat.” Vincent grabs his keys from the counter and strides toward the door.
I watch him go, determining to finally move forward on the upgrade process. Becoming a captain in itself is not a huge pay jump, but it opens the door for more opportunities, and I’m finally in a place to look for them.
First I need to send my dad pics of the new floor. Reconnecting with him has become a priority. I pat my pockets, looking for my phone. Where ...
It rings from the windowsill.
I jog over and frown at the caller’s name. Why would Claire be calling? Maybe in my attempt to disconnect the last time she was over, she’d felt like an imposition, and now she doesn’t want to stop by to borrow Maverick without calling first. That wasn’t my intent at all, but I’m still trying to figure out this boundary thing.
I guess I can start by being friendly. I swipe my thumb and go with, “Maverick’s answering service.”
Her chuckle is forced and interrupted by a hiss and heavy panting.
My spine snaps straight. “Claire? What’s wrong?”
