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Jack growled. “Not if I can help it.”
“What do you mean?”
His head swiveled my way. “There are boats, trains, cars. I only fly if I absolutely have to.”
That was surprising. Planes weren’t my favorite way to travel either, but I did it. It was the fastest way to get from point A to point B.
The plane shuddered, and Jack closed his eyes, his face losing a shade of color.
In a second, propelled by some unknown force, I had my seat belt unfastened, and I was up and across the aisle. Jack had chosen the aisle seat, so I tapped his leg, asking him to move. His eyes popped open. The plane was still bouncing, and I grabbedonto the back of his seat so I didn’t go flying or land in his lap. “Are you fucking crazy? Sit down!”
“I’m trying to. Move your damn legs.”
Jack did as I asked, his expression confused and a little wary as I slid into the window seat and buckled my seat belt.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going to Australia, right?”
He barely nodded. “You already know that.”
“And we still have the better part of ten hours until we get there, right?”
Jack closed his eyes again. “Don’t remind me.”
I popped the remote for the television mounted to the bulkhead wall from the spot between our seats and started scrolling the movie options, smiling when I landed on exactly what I wanted. “Then we have plenty of time to make a serious dent in the series.”
Jack cracked an eye open. “What series?”
“The Lord of the Rings.”
“No.”
I had a feeling he wasn’t going to be a fan of my plan to distract him, but I pushed anyway. “Aww, why not? The films were made in Australia. Makes sense for us to watch them on our way.”
“You’re an idiot. Those movies were filmed in New Zealand.”
“Eh, potato, potahto.”
Jack shook his head. “Not even close.”
“A little close.” I held up my thumb and forefinger with just a little space between.
He shook his head again, but I noticed he no longer had the armrests in a death grip. “I hate all that fantasy shit.”
I faked surprise. “No, really? But you’re such a whimsical kind of guy. I’m honestly shocked.”
He glared at me. “You can’t possibly tell me you like it.”
“Maybe hobbits do it for me.”
Jack scoffed. “Like hell.”
“You know, it’s rude to yuck someone else’s yum. I could totally be into short guys with hairy feet.”
“Yeah, sure you could. But you’re not.”
He turned his head and met my gaze. There was heat there and something else. It was like he knew a secret but wasn’t about to tell me, and he knew I wouldn’t ask. A beat of heavy silence passed between us until it felt like you could cut the tension with a dull butter knife.
