How did I forget that the rental car counters are off-site here? I’ll have to exit the terminal to get to the shuttle waiting area. The shuttles only run every few minutes, ferrying passengers to the rental car center a few minutes away.
And now,hissize is the advantage. I glance behind me to see his long legs stretch out as he picks up speed. He’s like a gazelle as he passes me with his duffel bag slung across his back. My lungs and thighs are burning as I push myself to catch him. But I can’t.
He’s almost to the line for the shuttle when the strap on his bag snaps. Fletch’s feet stutter as he tries to grab it before it hits the ground.
And that slows him just enough for me to take the lead again. I’m able to slip past a few more crowds, and I make it to the shuttle line right before he does.
“Good run,” I say, panting as he gets in line a split second after me. His chest expands and contracts rapidly, and his nostrils are flared. I’d say it’s the exertion, but I can already tell he’s bugged I beat him. I hold my winter coat in one hand, but even though it’s freezing out here, I’m too hot from the sprint to put it on.
“Yup.”
That’s all he says. Maybe he’s learning how to hold back the snark in his head, after all.
But I glance back and see that his phone is cradled against his ear. “Hey, Evan, it’s Fletch. I’ve got bad news. My flight was canceled. I’m gonna rent a car. I’ll still get there in time for the wedding, but I’m going to miss the showcase and probably Granddad’s charity event tomorrow. Sorry. Call me when you get this.” He sighs. “Bye.”
I face forward and nibble on the inside of my lip as I wait, not wanting him to know I was listening. But when the shuttle arrives and we’re waiting, I can’t help myself.
“I’m sorry you’re missing your Granddad’s party.”
“Showcase,” he corrects, annoyance practically spilling out of him. “I can’t believe I didn’t expect this. I know to assume the worst. How could I talk myself into thinking that everything would be fine?”
I force my expression to remain neutral. Switzerland. My eyeballs will be the Switzerland of the face, dang it.
The passengers in front of us get on, leaving Fletch and me to follow.
No, just me. What Ollie or Fletch or whatever his name is decides to do is up to him.
We’re waiting for the same shuttle bus, though, so it’s no surprise that he gets on behind me.
The surprise is that he passes an open seat and drops right next to me.
The shuttle bus rocks and rumbles, and a bump makes me lean against Fletch’s arm.
“Sorry,” I say.
“It’s not your fault,” he says. “I’m cursed. I should never have thought this trip would go differently.”
I was apologizing for bumping into him, not for … whateverthisis. “Sorry, did you say you’re cursed?”
“Yup.”
I pause, studying his profile while the shuttle shifts us. “Is that part of your story that you’re not sharing?”
He takes his hat off and runs his hand through his hair, which sticks out all over. “Yup.”
A part of me aches for this rude, hurting man. “That sucks.”
I almost ask what happened to make him think he’s cursed, but I catch myself. We’re not friends. We’re barely even tolerating each other.
He makes a sniffing sound. “No comment about how a little Christmas Magic can break it?”
I look at him sideways. “Did youwantme to make a comment like that?”
“No.”
“But you were expecting it?”
He shrugs.
