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Know what I hate more than flying?
Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.
Unfortunately, my dislike of airplanes has only grown over the years. As tempting as it was to sit this one out, there was no way I could miss Wolf’s wedding. Even if it meant forcing myself onto a tin can with wings that propelled itself into the sky, defying gravity.
As a kid, flying was always a fun adventure. We’d take family vacations or travel to the cities where my father was playing.
It was awesome.
Until I was eleven years old, and we hit a rough patch of turbulence. I was so scared that I almost pissed my sweatpants. The overhead compartments burst open, and the bags stowed inside came flying out. Then oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling.
I’m not joking when I say that I’d thought we were all going to die.
It was the worst five minutes of my life.
It doesn’t matter if that incident happened more than a decade ago and I’ve flown dozens of times since, I’ve never been able to shake off the terror of that experience. It replays through my mind with a disturbing vividness that makes it feel like it was yesterday.
I startle when the engines fire up and the plane rolls down the runway.
I’m not very spiritual, but in this moment?
I’m praying like my damn life depends on it.
Hell, I might even throw in a few Hail Marys if it’ll help tip the odds in my favor.
My fingers bite into the smooth metal as my jaw locks.
A warm palm settles over my clenched hand. “Are you all right? You look like you’re about to be sick.”
“I hate flying. Is it obvious?”
“Just a little. If you hate this so much, why are you doing it?”
I crack open an eyelid only to find Britt staring at me. Concern is etched across her features. “Wolf isn’t just a teammate, he’s one of my best friends. There’s no way I’d miss his wedding. No matter where I had to go or what I had to do to get there.”
Her expression softens as she squeezes my fingers. “You’re a good friend. I’m sure he appreciates it.”
“The fucker better,” I grumble.
The engines roar as the plane lifts from the asphalt, taking flight, nose tipped toward the sky.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
“It’s going to be fine,” she says in a soothing tone. It’s probably the same one she’d use when speaking with an out-of-sorts toddler. “I’ve flown a bazillion times and have never had any problems.”
“Yeah, I know. But that’s the thing about fear—it’s not exactly rational, is it?”
She’s silent for a moment. “I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right. Is there anything I can do to help or make it better?” There’s a beat of silence before she adds in a teasing voice, “Besides join the mile-high club with you?”
My lips twitch. “It’s almost like you can read my mind.”
“Guess now that we’ve spent a little time together, I’ve gotten to know you.”
“Don’t leave me hanging. What do you think so far?” Before she has a chance to respond, I add, “If you had to rate me on Yelp, what would it be? ‘Five stars and loving every minute of it?’”
She rolls her eyes as a smile simmers at the corners of her lips. “I’d give you two stars, at the most, along with a ‘would definitely not recommend.’”
“Ouch. That hurts.”
“Well, you did ask,” she points out.
“You’re right about that,” I agree. “I did.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“Do you want the truth?”
“That depends. Are you going to hurt my feelings?”
Her lips tremble as if she’s fighting back a smile. “Here’s what I think so far—you’re turning out to be different than I expected.”
I’m not altogether sure that’s a compliment. “Is that good or bad?”
She ponders the question for a handful of seconds. “A mix of both, I suppose.”
Ironically, this is the first girl I’ve actually wanted to like me. All the ones that came before her haven’t meant a damn thing. I have the sneaking suspicion that whatever this is with Brit could turn out to be something more.
If I let it.
And if she gives me a chance.
I swivel toward her as much as the seat and belt will allow. “You sound disappointed by the revelation.”
She rips her gaze from mine before I have the chance to study it. “You should probably know that I’m not interested in getting involved.”
“In general, or with me specifically?”
My heart constricts as she contemplates the question.
“With anyone.”
I tamp down the disappointment that tries to bloom at the bottom of my belly and lighten my tone, wanting to keep the conversation playful. “All right, I hear what you’re saying. So…what are we talking about here? Just a one-night stand? Because I’m totally down for that.”
A reluctant smile springs to her lips as she shakes her head. “Have I mentioned lately that you’re incorrigible?”
“Possibly.”
“It might not seem like it from the outside, but my life is…complicated. And it wouldn’t be smart to make it more so.”
