“We’re expecting good weather during the flight, although there may be a little turbulence over the Atlantic. It’ll get a bit bumpy, but it’s nothing to worry about.”
I grimace.
“Let’s get on board. Once we’re in the air, I’ll bring you a cold drink and a cup of ice.”
“Ice?”
She smiles and nods. “Ice helps me keep calm. It might help you too.”
“Uh, thank you.”
She helps me stand and guides me to her colleague, who checks my boarding pass. Then, she walks me along the sky bridge, onto the plane, chatting about her favorite routes to fly as an air steward. She sees me to my seat, which is by the window, over the wing, in economy. Only one of the two seats beside mine is occupied. By Emmet.
He smiles warmly. “Looks like we’re sitting together.”
I’m incapable of doing anything but gape at him.
“You’d better sit down.” He stands so that I can get in.
The air steward takes my hand luggage and stows it in the overhead locker. “I’ll come back once we’re in the air.”
“Thank you.”
She smiles and moves slowly down the aisle, looking at every passenger as she goes.
I have to brush past Emmet to get into my seat. I almost trip over nothing, but he steadies me with a gentle, firm grip.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumble, as I settle into my seat.
“What about?”
“Everything. The last thing you need is eight hours next to me.”
He chuckles. “What makes you say that?”
“I’m going to be a mess the whole flight.”
His eyes twinkle and crease a little at the corners as he smiles. “Not if I’m able to distract you.”
I stare at him. “You don’t need to do that.”
He shrugs. “All I’ll be doing is watching a movie or trying to catch some Zs. I reckon talking to you will be far more interesting.”
Heat rises to my cheeks. “I doubt that.”
“I don’t. You can start by telling me how you got your hair to look like that. It’s fantastic. Did you do it especially for Pride?”
I touch my hair, but don’t have time to respond before the pilot’s voice comes over the intercom.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen and welcome to this afternoon’s flight to JFK International Airport.”
Chapter Two
Emmet
Traveling in economy class wasn’t on my bingo card for today, but here I am, gazing at Ty as we listen to the pilot’s greeting. His face is pinched, his breathing still isn’t relaxed, and he’s tapping the arms of his seat like there’s no tomorrow. There’s a clunk as the sky bridge is retracted, and then the door is shut and locked with a thud. The plane pushes back. Ty gasps, and the color drains from his face.
“Relax,” I say in a soothing tone.
