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“My boarding pass and passport are missing,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice steady.
She raises a brow with an incredulous expression and sneers at me. “They’re right here. I picked them up when you fell and threw them at me. We’re already delayed because of you, so if you could take your seat, that would be great.”
I stand there, stunned, as she thrusts my documents back into my hands. My cheeks burn with embarrassment and anger. How dare she treat me like this? I didn’t ask to break my heel, fall and lose my things. She must have seen us searching for them, yet she stood there and didn’t say anything. What the fuck?
But I don’t say anything. I swallow my bitter rage, take my boarding pass and passport, and without another word, I walk towards the plane, my heart pounding double time.
As I board the plane, I can feel the eyes of the other passengers on me, judging me for holding up the flight. I want to crawl into a hole and never come out. I take a deep breath and make my way through first class and on to business class. I’m way down the back in economy and I always think it’s an unnecessary cruelty to make the peasants walk past the rich folk just to rub their noses in it. Surely it would be more dignified to make us use the back door?
“Angelica?” A surprised voice asks. “It was you holding the plane up all this time?”
I look up into Lycus’ bright green eyes and scowl even as my cheeks – and other parts of me – heat. I hate the way my body reacts to him now that it’s had a teasing taste of his touch.
What the hell is Lycus doing sitting in business class? With a drink already in hand, might I add.
It doesn’t matter, I should just be grateful that he’s not sitting next to me for the next ten plus hours.
Unable to come up with a witty retort, I shoot him a withering glare and move on.
“Angelica wait!”
I don’t.
I make it two paces before I’m yanked backwards and before I can throw curses at Lycus for holding me up, a loud ripping sound fills the space and the strap on my bag gives way, spilling my contents all over the flooragain.
This is too much. I want to curl up in a ball and die.
“Let me help,” Lycus offers springing to his feet and bending down to retrieve whatever items have rolled into his nice comfy little cubby.
I drop to my feet and start grabbing my things, stuffing them back into my bag with no rhyme or reason, frantically scrambling around on the floor trying to reach everything.
“Here,” Lycus says, offering me a hand up. I ignore him and grasp the sliding door partition to try and hoist myself up. There’s a horrible creaking noise followed by a snap.
Holy shit I think I just broke his door.
I can not afford to fix that.
“You missed something.”
I glance down to where Lycus is pointing, slightly under his seat, and because I’m so fucking french-fried in my brain, I drop to my knees once more and crawl forward to grab it.
“Excuse me, miss, but—” The air stewardess’ reprimand turns into a gasp of surprise as I wrap my fingers around the pesky item and sit up.
Lycus clears his throat and glances down at me in amusement, and only then do I breathe and take in the scene before me. I’m kneeling, face level with his crotch, and the air stewardess looks scandalised.
Ugh as if I’d do that before we’ve even taken off.
Or in the air.
I have zero desire to join the Mile High Club. Gross.
“Sorry, I lost my…” I hold the item up to demonstrate that I wasn’t just fucking around and look at what it was I lost. Tampons. Great.
“Miss, your seat is in coach. Please kindly make your way there and take it so we can taxi out to the runway and avoid further delays. If you need any help finding it, it’s the only empty one left on the plane.”
Fucking hell is my BA flight now code for Bitches Anonymous?
My scalp tingles with the need to run and hide, and tears of utter mortification burn at the corner of my eyes. I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat, but unable to say a word.
