I don’t know what to say to that. It’s too accurate. Too close to the bone.
“I did,” I admit. “I do. But who can I trust? The song is ‘No New Friends’for a reason.”
“Lonely at the top?” Taio asks.
“And the middle. And the bottom too,” I answer back. “I’ve been lonely all over the place.”
He holds up his hand. “Condolence high five?”
My face scrunches up like I caught a whiff of something sour. “Did you just offer me a high five?” I ask while staring at his massive palm, mere inches from my face.
“Well, I’d hug you, but that got us into a lot of trouble last time.”
“There are no cameras in he?—”
But the plane shudders slightly as the engines power up, cutting me off. The movement is my warning to get my ass into a seat and tie myself down with the seat belt like a roast chicken gets trussed up. Taio takes the seat across from me, facing me, his long legs stretched out into the aisle, his body relaxed in a way mine hasn’t been in weeks.
“It’s really nice to see you again,” he says. That crooked smile is back, the one that makes my stomach do complicated things. I want to stay focused on his gorgeous face, but as the plane starts to move, I feel my insides floating around untethered, like a lava lamp.
My breathing starts to shallow, I can’t help it. I can’t control it. Sage must be busy bossing her assistant around, because she never misses takeoff with me. It’s always either Claire, Spence, or Sage who hold my hands through this. I’ve always been and will always be a nervous flyer.
“Can you get Sage?” I whimper, too afraid to leave my seat as the jets really start to whir.
“What’s wrong?” Taio asks, his face flooding with concern. “You look pale all of a sudden.”
“Not a good flyer,” I mumble. “Just takeoff and touchdown. In the air I’m okay.” My words are coming out in short staccatos as I try to calm the raging flames of anxiety with cool-headed logic. “Sage, now, please?”
The plane jolts forward, trading its leisurely stroll for an all-out sprint.
“No time,” Taio mumbles, quickly trading seats so he’s right next to me. He folds my arm around his like twisted pretzels and holds my hand tightly. So tight the pressure is almost painful.
“Ow, that hurts.”
“Oh come on, tough girl. Squeeze back. I know you have more endurance than that.” But he lessens his grip just a touch. “Show me how strong you are.”
“Not interested in your mind games, Taio. I know what you’re doing.”
He smirks. “I’ll tell you what, if you can make me say ‘ow’ with that tiny bunny paw you’re sporting, I’ll…I don’t know, what’s something you want?”
“A kiss,” I reply like a reflex.
He quirks a brow. “Had that one locked and loaded, did you?”
“Taio…” I whine as the front half of the plane starts to levitate. “I’m going to be sick.”
“Shh, shh,” he coos. “Just squeeze. As hard as you can.”
I do. I squeeze his hand like I’m trying to crush it, until my forearm aches and my veins are bulging. It’s actually exhausting, and from this day forward I will be in full support of arm wrestling entering the Summer Olympics. Fatigued, I have to take deep breaths, and my sole focus becomes making Taio squirm in his seat. I want that kiss. But he’s barely flinching. I have to pull in my other hand, wrapping around the bottom of his, trying to double the amount of pressure.
I press with all my might and then his pinky finger twists, buckling under the pressure from both sides. “Oof,” he huffs, shaking out his hand.
“That counts,” I say, releasing the pressure. “Oofcounts.”
He smiles at me, his perfect dazzling teeth all giving me a standing ovation. “Great job, Tweety. That was ferocious.”
I glower at him. “You’re placating me. That didn’t hurt, did it?”
“Like a chubby puppy falling into a bed of blankets. All soft.”
