I smack his arm, battling the heat that’s filling my cheeks. Stealing a look at the seats closest to us, I confirm that nobody is looking our way. The plane is loud, but I don’t trust it to mask our conversation completely.
“I’m flattered that you think a few bats of my lashes would be enough to get a man to buy me a private plane, Beck.”
“Don’t be humble now. I know you’re considering it.”
I don’t want to give him any props for the way he’s absolutely calling my bluff, so I distract myself by looking anywhere else.Wes is sitting far too close for my liking, considering our lack of communication as of late. He’s currently typing on his phone with a pair of chunky headphones squishing his dark hair. I doubt he’s sending me a fifth text today that will go unanswered.
We’ve been close our entire lives, and I like to think that most days he knows me pretty well. That’s one of the reasons why his drunken comments hurt so badly. Anything else would have already been spoken about and forgiven, but I’m struggling with that this time around.
I fear it’s a me problem. Something I need to figure out before the issue takes root and causes more stress in my life.
It’s his birthday in two days, for shit’s sake. This is not the time to be holding a grudge, especially when I agreed to come on this trip forhimin the first place. I’m supposed to be here to celebrate my brother, and with how little I believe he’ll ever agree to the party Mom wants to throw, this may be my only chance to. It’s been weeks since she asked me to convince him to go, and if anything, my asking has only made him not want to all the more.
In the row behind him, my best friend is cuddled up to her boyfriend. She’s using his shoulder as a pillow, and he’s got his arm wrapped around her back, keeping her in place against him. While she sleeps, Finn stares at the screen in the back of Wes’ seat. He only has one earbud in because the other is in Aubrey’s ear.
After the years they spent in their idiotically platonic friendship, I’m so happy to see them in love. They deserve each other.
I look away from them and slowly drag my eyes over the remaining seats. The faces of the rest of the team start to blur halfway through. Jett and Rhys are sitting together, as are Kellan and Asher, but they’re all too busy with whatever it is they’redoing to catch my gaze. My vision only clears when I reach the second-to-last row.
Roman’s dark gaze instantly hooks mine. The gaping space between us should allow me the freedom to look away and turn forward again, but it does the opposite.
It’s been days since I left his house with a book full of nearly nude photos of myself and a stomach full of rabid butterflies. In a perfect world, I’d have texted him the next day and asked if he wanted to finally take me out, but not only do I not have his number, I’m not convinced that he wouldn’t still turn me down.
Despite the small gain from that night, there’s still too much resistance in the way for that.
I’ve spent a lot of time recently debating if I should just give up on him and this. The last thing I want to do is embarrass myself, and I fear I’m way too close to that edge by now. I’ve never had to fight for a man this hard before, especially just for sex.
And as sour as that feels to think about, I know hoping for something physical is the most realistic expectation here.
Heat prickles at the base of my spine when Roman presses his lips into a firm line and adjusts himself in his seat, eyeing my freshly bleached blonde hair. I try not to think about whether he likes it or not, because regardless of our conversation that night, me going back to my natural colour had nothing to do with him.
If anything, the only part he played in my decision was reminding me of how much I missed it. The red was fun, nothing more. Something to distract myself. A change that was never going to last.
I fold my hands in my lap and squeeze them together, needing to anchor myself. He looks so handsome in his dress pants and Havoc polo. His entire personality is professionalism, so why do I expect him to bend the rules he seems to keep to so strictly for me?
There’s also nobody in the seat beside him.
All the coaches are sitting together at the back of the plane while the players are further up. He could have easily chosen to take a seat with anyone he wished to, wherever he so chose. Yet there he is, on his own.
Something pushes down on my shoulder, forcing me to turn back around. There’s a large, male hand on it that doesn’t lift until I’m sitting back into the seat I’d begun lifting myself out of.
“Want me to get up, or were you planning on bunny hopping over the seats?” Beck asks, a knowing lift to his voice.
I swallow and take the earbud from the small tray he has folded over his lap. Before he can say anything else, I shove it into my ear and stare at his iPad, waiting for him to choose a new movie.
“Maybe I should have sat with Asher instead. At least he wouldn’t have talked,” I say when he doesn’t immediately press Play on something.
Beck snorts. “He wouldn’t have noticed anything, either.”
“Exactly. It seems like I made a grave error.”
“Cry about it, baby girl. You’re stuck here with me for three and a half more hours.”
“I could have flown over on my own tomorrow,” I say bitterly.
“You could have, but then you’d have had to sit next to a stranger on a much nastier plane. Admit it, this is the better option by a long shot.”
I blow out a harsh breath. “I’m surprised you’re even allowed to go out with the team tonight.”
