Did I need to throw that in? Hell no. Am I glad I did? For the look of loathing on Paul’s face, you’re fucking right I am.
Turning back to the two ladies sitting in the next row, I look between the two of them. “Right, Quinn?”
She glances at Jordan who I note nods imperceptibly before Quinn subtly takes her seatbelt off and rises to her feet. “Yep. Needed to know all the sex details because I don’t have my own sex life.”
I can feel the roll of her eyes without seeing it. I’m about to slide out from the seat to take the spot Quinn has just vacated when Paul decides today seems like a good day to dig his own grave.
“Please. We all know you spread your legs for anything.”
I’m in the aisle facing Paul a second later, my jaw clenching, lips pressed firmly together in a thin line as I stare him down. Hailey and Luke are sitting across from where Jordan is, and I feelLuke stand up behind me. Ready to grab or help me, I’m not sure.
“Watch your fucking mouth.”
The smile he gives me is calculated. “What are you going to do? Hit me and get yourself blacklisted on every airline? Sit the fuck down.”
My blood boils. Half because of what he said about Quinn, and half because he’s motherfucking right. What am I going to do about it? Hitting him is probably what he wants, but it’ll cause me a lot more pain than it will him.
“Liam,” Jordan says from behind me, her hand touching my shoulder. “Come sit. We’re holding things up.”
Her touch soothes the creature growing inside me. The one who would love to throw all logic and sense out the window and pummel this douchebag to teach him a lesson. Violence doesn’t solve anything—I fucking get it—but sometimes it feels like it should.
“You know what, dude? You’re absolutely right.” Sliding my fake smile back into place, I force my shoulders to relax. “Bad idea. A good one would be fingering your ex-girlfriend the whole way home. Enjoy the flight.”
Turning around, I mouth “thank you” to Quinn whose lips are clamped tightly together, likely refraining from giving me or Paul a piece of her mind. Honestly, I’m not sure which because she doesn’t look thrilled with me having stood up for her. That’s Quinn though. She can handle herself; she just shouldn’t have to.
I catch sight of the flight attendant coming toward us as I slide into the row behind the one I just occupied. Jordan has dropped back into her seat, and I do the same beside her as Paul moves out of the way for Quinn and the flight attendant to pass. The latter goes by slowly, looking at both Paul and me. I’m sure she’s making a mental note of the two of us.
Turning to Jordan as I fiddle with my seatbelt, I shoot her a charming smile. “Miss me?”
My smile is met with a frown. While she doesn’t look directly at Paul, her eyes shift just enough that I know she’s thinking about the scene between us. She looks about as happy as Quinn did. But what was I supposed to do? Let this douchebag get away with talking to Quinn like that? Hell no. I won’t stand for bullshit like that even if Quinn can handle herself.
Pressing my hand to my chest, I gasp in jest. “You’ve wounded me.”
Her eyes roll, but I see the grin spreading across her lips as she turns her head towards the window. Trying to stay annoyed with me. Trying to hide her smile.
Leaning as far over the arm rest as I can, I clear my throat. It gets her attention, and she turns back to me, eyes widening in alarm when she realizes how close I am. Close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off her body.
“Does this mean I don’t get to finger you all the way home like I told him I would?”
“Liam!” she hisses, her eyes darting to the chair in front of me where Paul has finally taken his seat.
“How about an old fashioned make out session then?”
Her eyes flash dangerously. “Liam.”
Fuck. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hot. My Fireball acting like she’s in charge, getting up in arms over my antics. She can scold me all she wants; we both know who’s really in charge when it matters.
Was. Was in charge.
The thought knocks a little wind from my sails. Right. We’re done. The goodbye has been said. We are literally about to take off and leave Vegas behind. This impromptu moment of pretending we’re together is only because Paul got on the same flight as us.Nothing more.
But fuck. I wish it was more. I get the feeling I’m not the only one who doesn’t want this to end. Hell, if her tears this morning were any indication, I know she doesn’t want it to end.
So why the fuck are we?
Nate.
Right. My best friend. Her brother. My brother in flames. But what the fuck kind of man would he be if he didn’t let this happen, if we both want it to? I get that she made a promise, and while I may not have said the words “I promise”, I basically gave him my word that I wouldn’t date his little sister. Ten fucking years ago. We were all young and dumb. I wouldn’t have wanted someone like me dating my little sister either if I had one.
