Page 23 of Break Out

The flight attendant goes over the emergency procedures, and before I know it, we’re in the air headed toward Key West. Leaning back in my seat, I close my eyes, and I don’t open them until the pilot announces our arrival into EYW, the Key West airport. I stare longingly at my book—so much for reading on the flight—but apparently, I needed the sleep. I grab my phone and switch it off Airplane Mode.

Brody: Landed.

I type a quick response telling him that I landed too but there’s a chance my luggage didn’t make it since my flight was delayed into Charlotte. I don’t have time to see if he responds as everyone around me begins getting to their feet.

Once out in the terminal, I stop to use the bathroom and refill my water bottle before following the signs to the luggage carousels.

I spot Brody leaning against the wall, a suitcase at his feet and a leather duffel bag slung over his shoulder. I take him in as I approach—his Miami Marlins hat pulled low, black shorts that show off his muscular legs paired with a hunter-green T-shirt. Black sneakers on his feet.

My best friend is hot.

I’ve always known that, but lately I’ve been noticing it even more. Like I used to when we were in high school or when he first started playing hockey. Maybe it’s because we’re fake dating and I’ve been spending more time with him. Or maybe it’s because this wedding is a reminder that I haven’t been in a relationship for way too long. I shove all those thoughts down as I thread my way through the crowds toward him.

Here’s to hoping that after this week we’re still friends.

Chapter eleven

Brody

The sweat is pouring down my back, and I haven’t even stepped outside yet. I don’t know if it’s from the heat or because there are so many people around. I’m starting to regret agreeing to this arrangement until I see the beautiful woman coming toward me. And I remember why I agreed to this.

She’s dressed in a simple pair of denim shorts and a faded Orlando Storm shirt, her brown hair thrown into a messy bun. Her gaze darts around before landing on me. Her lips tip up into a grin when we make eye contact, and I can’t help but smile too.

“Hey,” Aubrey says as she stops in front of me.

I push off the wall and pull her into a hug. I’m not sure why I feel the need to hug her, but I do, and I don’t regret the decision. She’s stiff at first, but after a couple of seconds, she relaxes into me and hugs me back.

“Hey,” I whisper into her hair.

“I don’t think my luggage made it,” she says with a frown as she moves out of my arms. “My flight from Gainesville sat on the tarmac in Charlotte for so long I barely made it. I doubt my luggage did. And now I don’t know what I’m going to do for clothes. It’s not like I can wear this all week.” Her voice pitches up at the end, panic seeping in.

“Want to wait and see just in case?” I ask, gesturing toward the carousel that shows her flight number on the board above it.

“Yeah, okay.”

Eventually, luggage from the flight starts appearing, but as predicted, hers doesn’t show up. She fills out a missing baggage form, and the employee tells her they’ll be in contact when they locate it but that it’s likely still in Charlotte.

“You okay?” I ask once that’s taken care of, even though I know she’s not based on how much she was biting her lip and fiddling with her hair the entire time.

Aubrey readjusts her bun for the umpteenth time. “No, Brody. What happens if they don’t find my luggage?”

“We’ll figure it out. I’m sure there’s places to buy clothes here,” I say, laying a hand on her arm and turning her to face me.

“It’s not just needing clothes. It’s needing clothes my mother would approve of,” she says, her eyes watering. “I’d never hear the end of it.” She shakes her head, reaching up to swipe away the unshed tears.

“Hey. It’s okay.” I pull her into me and wrap my arms around her. “We’ll figure it out. I promise. Let’s go outside and find our car. Check in and have some dinner. If you don’t hear from the airline by the morning, we’ll go shopping.”

Aubrey nods against my chest. I hold her for a few seconds longer before reluctantly letting her go. She gives me a small grin as she readjusts her bag on her shoulder. I grab my bags, and we head outside to the car I hired.

“Mr. Thompson. It’s a pleasure, sir,” the driver says when I greet him and confirm we’re at the correct car. “Al, at your service. Can I help you with your bags?” he asks, but he’s already lifting my suitcase into the trunk. Once everything is loaded, Aubrey and I climb into the backseat of the sedan and buckle our seatbelts.

“It was a terrible loss,” Al says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror as we head toward the hotel.

I pull on the bill of my cap and try to smile. Of course I got a driver who is a hockey fan. What are the chances?

“You’ll bounce back,” he continues, focusing back on the road. “I’ve been a fan for a very long time. I have faith that the Storm will win the Cup this upcoming season. Don’t listen to those naysayer commentators. You’ve still got many years ahead of you.”

I chuckle. At least he’s a loyal fan. I feel Aubrey’s eyes on me, but I don’t look at her. “Thanks, Al. I appreciate fans like you who stick with us through the highs and lows.”