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‘You sick?’ George sits further up in his seat. ‘You never get sick.’
The woman to George’s right jerks forward as if I’m about to projectile vomit.
Which, with the next swallow of excess saliva flooding my mouth, I might be.
‘Not me.’ Thomas’s eyes return to mine. ‘Alice.’
‘Oh, shoot, really?’ There’s rustling and then George appears, on his knees facing us over his seat. His eyes are barely open. ‘Here.’
When he holds out his hand, I automatically reach out with mine.
He drops two orange tablets, each about the size of a nickel in my palm. ‘Feel better, Alice.’ With a yawn, he drops back into his seat, presumably to fall back asleep.
Thomas thrusts a water bottle at me. ‘Take it.’
I inhale deeply in through my nose, out through my mouth. ‘I’m sure I’ll be—’
‘I’d rather not arrive in Las Vegas splattered with vomit.’ He taps the bottle against my arm. ‘Take the anti-nausea medication.’
Rather than his condescending expression, it’s the plane pitching that has me tossing the pills in my mouth and chomping the orange-flavored chalk as if my life depended on it. Though the turbulence is infinitesimal, my stomach seems to think we’re making loop-the-loops.
He shakes the water bottle in front of me and my annoyance only increases when the cold water notably washes away the fake orange flavor and cools my flushed body. I’m about to thank Thomas for helping me when he rests his index finger alongside his nose.
‘In through your nose, out through your mouth.’
My eyes focus on his perfectly manicured finger resting on his perfectly straight Greek nose. ‘Huh?’
He lowers his finger to the corner of his now slightly pursed lips. ‘You have…’ He taps.
The heat I feel in my cheeks has nothing to do with airplane sickness as I raise my hand to my mouth.
Just as my fingers wipe away the moisture leftover from the water bottle, I catch the slight pinch to his expression before he bends down to retrieve his valise from under the seat in front of him.
Any feelings of gratitude I’d previously felt vanish.
Excuse me for not having a handkerchief to dab at my lips like a lady.
Removing his laptop, he slides the bag back into place before raising the seat tray from the armrest between us. ‘Close your eyes and breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.’ He doesn’t even spare me a glance as he places his laptop down and opens it.
‘Closing my eyes is what made me feel bad to begin with.’ If my niece used a tone like I just did, I would’ve given her a stern talking-to.
Thomas says nothing, just powers on his computer, effectively dismissing me.
Jerk.
The plane veers again, yet my stomach remains calm.
I make a mental note to thank George for the Dramamine when we land.
Ignoring Thomas and his advice, I settle back in my oversized leather chair and grab my phone. Bell gave me specific instructions not to bring my laptop this weekend, wanting me to have fun and not work.
I’m not off to a good start on the fun part.
Aiming to fix that, I open my reader application and tap on the new romance series I’d been saving to binge read on this trip. Vampires, shifters and demons – oh my.
In my peripheral, Thomas clacks away on his keyboard. Either Bell didn’t bother instructing the high and mighty Thomas Moore to relax, or he’s ignoring her wishes.
Typical.
