His eyes flicked over me. “I was here on time too,” he said, his voice calm and controlled. “They checked me in, but I don’t have a seat. They told me to see the gate agent.”
“Then take it up with them.” I gestured back toward the counter. “Not me.”
“I did. They said I have to wait and see if a seat opens up, or they’ll rebook me.” He let out a humorless laugh. “Apparently, I’m less important than your precious window seat.”
“Middle seat,” I corrected automatically, lifting my ticket andshaking it at him. “So congratulations, you’re losing out on the worst seat on the plane.”
For a second, his mouth twitched as if he might smile. Then it flattened again. “So you aren’t even going to consider helping me?”
“I have considered it,” I said, already stepping away again. “Answer’s still no.”
He called after me, but I didn’t look back.
A handful of pills and a strong black coffee later, I was sitting at my gate waiting to board. The man from earlier was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t know why I was even looking for him.
It wasn’t my fault the airline oversold the flight.
Of course, I still felt bad for him, which I’d love to blame on my hormones. It was dumb that you could buy a ticket and not actually get a seat.
He was right.
About that part, anyway.
Didn’t mean I was going to step in front of him and take the bullet.
My friend Kara was getting remarried after a shitty divorce, and I wanted to be there to celebrate with her. I was a wildfire fighter. I’d worked in Canada, the US, and Australia, depending on where the busy fire season was.
With a job like that, I missed enough important events in my friends’ and families’ lives. Missing this was out of the question.
Slowing down and staying in one place would solve the problem of missing important events. I just wasn’t sure where thatone placewould be.
Maybe Colorado, where Kara was now living.
I was excited to look around the little town of Iron Peak and see if it was a good fit.
As the time for boarding got closer, the waiting area filled up. I clutched the handle of my suitcase in one hand and my boarding pass in the other. No matter how often I flew, I still had that simmering anxiety that I would miss the flight.
My zone was called, and I checked my ticket for the hundredth time before getting into line behind a group of people clutching coffee cups and carry-on bags.
I glanced toward the gate agent and saw a familiar face glaring back at me. His thick arms were crossed over his chest, and his dark beard outlined the frown on his face. He’d be kind of hot if he wasn’t a complete jackass.
I shifted my gaze away, guilt blooming in my gut, which made absolutely no sense.
There was no way to avoid him as I got closer to the front of the line.
“Miss Middle Seat made it,” he said with a sarcastic smirk.
“Jealous?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, my suitcase leaning against my leg.
“Very. I love being squished between two strangers for three hours.”
“It’s closer to three and a half, actually.” I paused. “So no luck getting a seat?”
“Standby. Need someone to be less organized than I am, or develop a conscience.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not going to let this go, huh?”
“Not my best trait, I admit.”
