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“Is that what you’re doing, London King?” My face heats as he studies me with his pretty dark eyes. “Hiding yourself?”

I dart my gaze downward. “Maybe.”

He reaches for my chin and pulls my face toward him, but not hard or aggressive. His hands are soft and warm, and my entire body heats.

“Well, I want to see you,” he breathes and blinks at me through his thick, dark lashes. “I bet, deep down, there is something beautiful behind this angry girl facade. And I don’t mean under your clothes… I’ve already seen that. If you come tonight, I’ll make it worth your while.”

I cringe at the thought of the hallway in my most vulnerable state, but the cute smirk on his face makes my heart melt.

Nigel’s voice slices across the aisle. “She’ll go to the party.”

Maison whips toward him, and I press my lips together and shake my head at Nigel behind Maison’s back. By the time Maison turns back to me, I’m normal, and a smile is planted on his face. Nigel needs to butt out and let me do this my way.

He presses his hand on my thigh and my stomach twists. “Great. I’ll come grab you so you can’t run away from me when we land. Maybe we can even find some time to sneak off so you can interview me.” He turns to leave, but pauses, turning into me, knowing Nigel is in earshot. He leans in, his lips close to my ear, shooting a chill down my spine. “But I absolutely refuse to talk about Micah, pretty girl. You’re only allowed to talk about me.”

I pull back from him, thinking he must be joking—

A fleeting flash hits his eyes, and just as quickly, he returns to his usual flirtatious self.

I didn’t miss it, that dark flash, and I hitch out a small breath.

He means he doesn’t want to talk about what his brother did to him. Betrayal? He knows, deep down, what I’m dying to ask.

The plane jolts again, and the captain’s voice echoes from above, telling us we are hitting an electric storm and to stay in our seats.

The lightning I saw, the clouds in the distance, we are headed straight through it. The plane bounces around, and Jade snaps up from lying on Nigel’s shoulder.

She looks around in confusion. “What’s happening?

“I don’t know,” Nigel says, peering outside. “It’s strange to have this type of weather so high.”

I tighten my belt and look over at Maison. “You better go back to your seat.”

Suddenly, we drop—at least ten feet straight down—so fast and hard, Maison nearly hits his head on the ceiling, and I whip my head back on my seat, giving me whiplash. Cries and yells reverberate throughout the plane as others jolt right out of their seats. Maison slides his seatbelt on. “Yeah, no fucking way I’m leaving you.” He rubs the back of his head from where it slammed into the seat. “Are you okay?”

My heart is beating so fast, my body shakes. “Yeah.” I muster out a breath, arching my head to get a better view of the outside, hardly believing what had just happened. “That was scary.”

Something fucked-up just happened.

Outside, the lightning is all around. The plane dropped enough, putting us square in the middle of the storm. Maison rests his hand on my shaking thigh. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” His normal confidence is rocked.

“I don’t get it,” I say, gripping his hand over my thigh so hard my fingernails almost draw blood. “Why wouldn’t the pilot avoid flying into this?” He squeezes my hand as the plane shakes around us, and I’m happy to have someone to hold on to as heavy precipitation blasts against the window and pure terror rolls through me.

The plane veers hard and nearly tips on its side, causing me to crash into Maison as luggage and bags fall into the unfortunate people sitting on the right aisle. Maison turns and wraps his arms around me as I close my eyes, hoping the worst of it’s over, but it feels as if I’m on a rollercoaster with a really shitty seatbelt. The plane finally rights itself, and after the initial sounds of cries and crashes, it’s quiet, eerily so, as everyone on this plane is stunned. The one flight attendant has vanished. She must have jumped into the cockpit with the pilots.

“Micah,” Maison calls out, “you guys okay up there?”

Micah was sitting on the right side, so he would have had luggage fall on him. The darkness in the cabin stops me from seeing how many people are hurt, but I hear the muffled cries and utter shock.

“Yeah, man,” Micah yells back. “Everyone, get back in your seats and get your fucking seatbelts on. Maison, get the fuck back here.”

Anyone who didn’t put their seatbelt on are now strewn about the plane, at least half of the students. The pilot’s voice cackles over the intercom, but I don’t understand a damn word he’s saying. The coaches get up and try to settle the players, which is a hopeless endeavor given everyone is panicking.

My heart lurches at the thought of Maison leaving me right now. He calls out to Micah, “No way, man. I’m not leaving London right now. I’ll be fine back here. Watch over everyone up there.”

Me… He’s not leaving me, even though he doesn’t know me.

The plane jolts, vibrations hum from the bottom, causing instability in the cabin before a deafening boom blows from the bottom.