And there, behind them, is Callum.
He tries to inch past but they’re too boisterous and I watch, delighted, as handsy chief divorcee Jennifer runs her hands over his chest.
Ordinarily, I’d help. But let’s not forget that this man has an extremely low opinion of me and seems hell-bent on making that clear at every available opportunity. So instead, I settle back in my seat, grab my imaginary popcorn and watch the show.
I can hear him politely trying to extract himself from theirfervent admiration and, eventually, he pops out of the swarm of women looking ruffled. His glasses are slightly skewed, his dark hair on the tousled side, and his bag is falling off his shoulder.
His eyes settle on mine and he prowls over to me.
‘That funny, was it?’ he demands crossly as I try, unsuccessfully, to rearrange my features.
No point in denying it.
‘Hilarious.’ I bite my lip.
Callum looks like he’s about to launch into some kind of diatribe when we both spot Clio and Brody being chauffeur-driven over to the departure gate. And the stern look he was giving me suddenly breaks into this professional, charming smile.
‘I’ll deal with you later,’ he mutters darkly.
Appallingly, my body responds to this in ways I did not give it permission to. My pupils become shot. My breathing quickens. An almost inaudible gasp escapes my lips at this promise, just for me.
Worse, Callumnotices. His eyes flick down to my mouth and back again. Something flashes behind his gaze. He holds my stare for a beat too long before he turns his attention back to our clients and I’m left trying to desperately gather my wits.
What the heck?
Have I developed some kind of kink? Mean boys who are horrid to me and promise to deal with me later? Is that even a thing?
Of course it isn’t. I remind myself that my stress levels are currently through the roof thanks to the whole possible time travel-slash-newfound psychic ability thing. Neither of which are actually happening, obviously. I have to keep reminding myself that things only seem weird today because of the ripple effects of a very vivid dream, like a huge wave has crashed out at sea and now tiny foam tides are washing in to shore. That’s all.
We go through the exact same conversation with Cody, where Clio asks if we’re a couple and I scoff so hard I end up coughing.Only this time, when it’s Callum’s turn to board, he looks at me expectantly.
‘I’m in economy,’ I say.
He frowns.
‘I thought we were sitting together?’
‘Maybe Kat got you an upgrade because you’re her nephew?’
Callum’s face darkens. ‘Are you kidding me?’
‘I don’t know why we’re not sitting together, Callum,’ I say, which is a tremendous lie. But it’s not like he has a clue what I’ve been up to, is it?
‘Never mind where we’re sitting. You reckon I get preferential treatment from Kat because we’re related?’ In fairness, Callum looks positively horrified by this suggestion.
‘Don’t you?’ I shrug.
‘What thefuck, Moss?’ he huffs angrily.
Wow, he’s really annoyed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so tense and now I’m wondering if I went too far. Damn it. Callum looks like he’s been punched in the gut. He pulls off his glasses and runs a hand across his face. And I’m met with the sinking realization that I’m going to need to apologize, which sucks.
My apology dies on the wind when premium economy flyers are called with more urgency, this time, and a member of staff comes over to us to shoo Callum through the boarding process.
‘Callum—’ I say as he moves off.
‘Enjoy your flight, Nina,’ he shoots back with one last hurt look.
Nina? I’m struck by the way my name sounds on his lips, an echo of my ‘dream Monday’. I liked it then, just like I like it now. I stare, bewildered, as he moves through to the passenger bridge.
