I jump a little. “Jesus, you scared me.”
Chris smiles sheepishly, then nods toward Nolan. “He’s picturing himself on stage. Helps his anxiety.”
I turn back to Nolan and swallow thickly. A little furrow of concentration rests between his brows. His shirt slowly slides down to reveal his concave stomach, the tattoos a storybook across his skin.
“I’m going to bother him,” I inform Chris, moving away before he can have the option to stop me.
Crouching down in front of Nolan, I lightly boop him on the nose. His dark brown eyes take me in, that furrow in his brows slowly disappearing, only to be replaced by a wicked smirk at the corner of his lips.
“Hey, stud,” Nolan teases.
The terminal is empty minus for us, so I dip down to kiss him. Nolan startles just a little but gets with the program quickly, opening up for me so that I can lick into his mouth. He tastes just like I remember but with a coffee bite. His tongue tangles with mine, but he doesn’t fight for dominance. Gripping his neck in my palm, I squeeze and steal his breath from him. When I pull away, his eyes are glassy, and he stares up at me.
We look at each other for a few long moments, before I stand, never breaking eye contact.
“Ever been blown on an airplane?” Nolan asks as I toss myself into the seat beside him.
“Can’t say that I have.”
Nolan closes his eyes again. “First time for everything.”
He ignores my presence, seemingly getting lost in the music again. We don’t sit long before Chris stands, taps Nolan on the shoulder, then disappears toward the gate. Nolan stretches out like a cat, legs pulled taut, arms stretched so the tips of his fingers touch the dark gray carpet.
Nolan heaves himself out of the chair and holds his hand out for me. I slip my hand into his, enjoying the touch of hiscalloused fingers against my wrist. His headphones slip down to his neck as he tugs me toward the gate, his fingers gently squeezing my own.
The private plane isn’t as small as I was expecting. Sleek tan leather seats dot the cabin, and there are two doors in the back. Chris settles quietly in a seat up front and starts amiably chatting with the older stewardess. Nolan drops my hand and makes a beeline for the seat at the back of the plane. I’m not sure where to go. Do I follow Nolan? Do I sit with Chris?
My internal struggle is put to rest when Nolan stands back up with a roll of his eyes. “Hello? Come sit back here.”
Sassy fucker. Plopping my trusty backpack on the ground, I slide into the seat beside Nolan. He keeps his headphones around his neck and angles his head against the seat so that he can fix me with his weird, hard gaze. My eyes dip down to the skeleton hands around his neck, then back up to his suddenly grinning mouth.
“Oh, Nolan, if I come, I’m going to be in charge,” Nolan mocks, lips curled up in a mean sort of smirk. I have the odd urge to take him over my knee and spank him. Instead, I curl my fingers against my jeans to keep myself from reaching out for him.
“I am in charge,” I point out, voice thready.
Nolan rolls his eyes. He fumbles around in his jeans pockets, making a victorious sound in the back of his throat when he pulls out a stick of gum.
“Juicy Fruit, it’s the best.” He carefully unfurls the gum from the silver jacket, then pops the yellow stick of gum into his mouth. A small, pleased smile tilts his lips up as if he’s forgotten to be a shit if only for a moment. “Aptly named gum since I am also a juicy fruit.”
“You’re sassy today,” I point out.
Nolan shrugs indifferently. “Either that or be wrecked out of my mind worrying about this fucking goddamn world tour.”
“You don’t like tours?”
Nolan turns his hard gaze on me. “We’ve talked about this, Benjamin, I don’t likesingingfor crowds at all. Keep up.”
“We didn’t talk in-depth about it,” I point out.
Nolan looks sarcastically thoughtful, if that’s a thing at all. “Pretty sure we did. Hey, wanna fuck me in the bedroom when we’re over the Atlantic? You can put a sock in my mouth to keep me quiet.”
Jesus Christ. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut to stop myself from getting a boner. I’m not going to fuck him on the plane. It’s what he wants, but not what I want.
“I’m not fucking you on the plane,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice level.
“Boring.” Nolan tosses himself back in the seat, tugs his headphones over his head, and proceeds to do his best to ignore my very presence.
The plane takes off without a hitch. Once we’re in the air, the stewardess comes back to offer me drinks. After ordering a ginger ale, I lean against the seat and look out at the sky. The city disappears beneath us as we climb higher and higher, the cloud cover hiding the city from sight. An hour into the seven-hour flight, Nolan falls asleep beside me. His head dangles precariously for a few moments, before falling onto my shoulder with a gentle thump.
