‘Y-yes.’
I cup her, thumb pressing down where I know she likes it. ‘But who owns this pretty pussy?’ I’m so hushed, it’s barely audible.
Her stifled moan vibrates through my bones. She doesn’t have to say it. By now, we both know.
‘Can’t fuck you here, baby. Barely fit into that loo by myself.’ I tuck her hair behind a reddened ear. ‘I’d split that sink in half. Just feel me for a minute. Just know I’m here.’ I let my palm rest over her mound.
She smothers a giggle against my collarbone. ‘Romantic.’
‘Me? Naw. I would fuck you like a raging bull until you’re too tender to take me.’ I bury my nose in her hair. ‘But we’re in public, on a plane, so all we’re gonna do is hold hands under the blanket while we fall asleep.’
I withdraw my hand from her sweet, swollen heat and pull hers out of my joggers, then I tangle our fingers together again, hidden underneath the blanket. ‘Sleep, Champ. I’m here.’
I lean back and pull the blankets tighter around us. She drifts off first, breath evening out. Her head lolls onto my shoulder, and I count her lashes in the dim cabin light.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
The syllables in my head beat louder than the engines.
Finn farts in his sleep. Scottie groans. Charlie’s hand stays tangled with mine under thin, scratchy polyester.
This must be what peace feels like.
Sunlight stabs through the oval window. I wake up to the sharp scent of airline coffee and a crick in my neck. Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I try to shift, but something tugs at my hand.
Charlie’s hand.
Still laced with mine, right out in the open. Bare skin on bare skin. The blanket is slipped down our laps, exposing our tangled fingers for the whole cabin to see.
Fuck.
I shift my gaze sideways. Jamie shifts, rolling his shoulder like he’s scrumming in his dream. Across the aisle, Finn’s drooling on his neck pillow. A few rows back, one of the lads cracks his neck, stretching before sinking back down.
Most of the team’s still scattered in various states of semi-consciousness, either dead to the world or caught up in their headphone universes.
The toilet door clicks open behind us. Footsteps approach from the back. I don’t turn. Just track the movement as Scottie walks past and drops into his seat two rows ahead. He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t look back.
But he definitely saw.
Someone coughs.
Charlie stirs against me, lids fluttering. When she catches sight of our hands, she stiffens like I’ve slapped her. Then pulls away fast and tucks her hands into her lap like they’ve been caught committing a felony.
‘Relax,’ I murmur, ‘no one saw.’ I’m not so sure, but I don’t tell her. She’s freaking out enough already.
Her shoulders don’t drop. She scans the cabin with a calculating look. Then she meets my gaze, and, for the first time, I see it clearly. Fear. There’s something else, too. Guilt bleeding through the cracks in her game face. She glances away too fast, like she knows I caught it.
Christ, I hate that she’s looking at me like that. Like I’m the one making her life harder by being in it.
‘It’s fine,’ I keep my tone low. ‘They’re all half-dead. Nobody’s noticed.’
Her lips press into a line, but her breathing slows a bit. I reach out, touch her knee under the tray table, give it a squeeze. She pushes me away.
And it lands like a kick to the groin.
Touching me, holding my hand in public, is enough to send her into a full-blown panic.
‘What the fuck are you so scared of?’ I whisper.
