“We could meet again on land when it’s over.”
“I guess going separate ways for one day a year is acceptable,” he conceded.
“Think of all we’d have to talk about when we find each other again.”
“Endless,” he said, nodding. “Glad we worked out a plan.”
“Me too.”
I leaned back in my seat with a smile.
Not exactly happy, but for the moment, I was okay.
Chapter Two
Ben
Five Years Ago
Fourhoursintoourflight, the captain broke the news: this plane was not making it to LA. Something mechanical was going wrong, but we were too far from Auckland to turn back, so we’d be dumping fuel and landing in a place called Pago Pago.
Cute name. Probably a cool place. But really?
I didn’t mind traveling. I did a lot of it. But when I wanted to go home, Ireallywanted to go home. I’d been gone a month. I longed for my bed, my brothers, my regularly scheduled programming.
I looked over at the woman curled up beside me.Mazzy. She hadn’t stirred during the captain’s announcement or at the flightattendants buzzing around the cabin. She’d passed out as soon as we were in the air, before her seat could be turned into a bed, and hadn’t moved an inch.
I was tempted to poke her, wake her up, get her to talk to me again. As sad as her pretty eyes were, she was fun. I liked the way her thoughts tumbled out of her, one after the other. It made me wonder if it was a product of her delirium or she was always like that. I kinda hoped for the latter. Shy people were cool. I liked them well enough. Extroverts who could chat with anyone, however? They were my jam. I could make convo with a brick wall, so not many things excited me more than someone who could give as good as they got.
When we began to descend and Mazzy was still knocked out cold, I made my decision. Reaching through the opening between our seats, I gave her shoulder a shake.
“Mazzy,” I called. “Come on, Mazz. Wake-up time. Things are happening you might wanna know about.”
Finally, her eyes began to flutter, and she let out an adorable, disgruntled sound that made something deep in my gut stir.
I couldn’t say buying her ticket had been entirely altruistic—not when I’d requested she be seated beside me. Sure, I’d felt sorry for her, but even before I’d overheard what her ex had done, I’d noticed her.
It had started with her hair, long and kind of curly all the way down her back. The unforgiving airport lights had glinted off the mahogany strands like they were made of glass. Then she’d turned her head, giving me her profile. Ski-slope nose dusted in freckles, wide eyes a little too big for her small, round face, a stubborn chin, pink, puffy lips.
In an oversized hoodie and leggings, it wasn’t like I was some perv checking out a sad woman’s body. Not that I wouldn’t have. I wasn’t above that or anything. And I could see enough of her to surmise she was petite and full figured.
I hadn’t been expecting anything from her. I’d thought I might enjoy getting a better look at her during the flight, and the conversation we’d carried on earlier had been a bonus for my good deed.
But the idiom was true. No good deed went unpunished. I got this pretty, sad girl on this flight, and we were going down.
Not crashing, but a detour in American Samoa surely hadn’t been on my schedule.
Her forehead crinkled as she opened her eyes, which searched blankly around the cabin before she slipped her wire-framed glasses on, bringing them into focus.
“Are we here?” she croaked.
“They’re diverting us. Some kind of mechanical issue.”
That woke her up. “Are you kidding? We’re…are we crashing?”
“No, not crashing.” I reached over the divider, offering her my hand. She slipped hers into it with very little hesitation. “We’re landing in Pago Pago, American Samoa.”
Air burst from between her sleep-swollen lips. “Oh my god. We…I…what?”
