Page 55 of Here We Go Again

I consider her offer. I’d love for her to enjoy the comfort of first class, but I don’t hate the idea of sitting next to her. I nod and move back to her row.

“Hey,” I say to the guy, and he looks up, eyebrows lifted, full scowl on his face. “Trade seats with me?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because mine is in first class,” I say. “Take it. I’ll sit here.”

“What’s the catch?” he asks, looking around the plane like he can’t really believe I’m serious.

“No catch.” My eyes shift past him to the elderly woman sitting on his other side, purse clutched to her chest like it’s her lifeline. I doubt she’s looking forward to ninety minutes sitting next to him. “I just want to sit next to my friend.”

He frowns one last time, but then he stands and moves out of the row, taking his phone call with him. I make eye contact with the first-class flight attendant and give her a nod, letting her know I switched on purpose. I hate to have saddled her with a guy who will probably be insufferable, but at least she’s getting paid to deal with him.

Better her than Becca.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Becca says.

“Yes, I did,” I say. “That guy was a jerk.”

“Well, you have to at least let me give you the aisle seat,” she says. “You’re way too big to fit in the middle.”

Another flight attendant comes up behind us, ushering us into our seats, so Becca scoots in, leaving the aisle for me. It’s … not an easy fit, even with the extra leg room the aisle provides. But I don’t have any regrets.

The woman on the other side of Becca reaches over and rests a hand on my forearm. “Thank you,” she says. “That other man was very rude. And he smelled like boiled potatoes.”

“He did smell like potatoes!” Becca says, frowning. “I couldn’t figure out what it was. But that’s totally it.”

“Good riddance, then,” I say. I look down at Becca, suddenly realizing how close we’re sitting. She looks good. Really good. I’m suddenly grateful I couldn’t convince Carter to trade places with me.

“I second her thank you,” Becca says. “Mostly because you don’t smell like potatoes.”

“You’re lucky I left my root vegetable cologne at home,” I say, and she laughs. “Now, are we going to talk about why we’re both going to Tampa?”

“Right! You’re going to see your mom,” she says. “Which is wild because I’m also going to see my mom.”

“You are?”

She nods. “She had these plans with my dad, but then he forgot to ask for time off work. Since she’d already booked the place, she asked me to come instead.”

We pause our conversation long enough for the captain to give us an update about our flight time and the weather in Tampa, but I’m hardly listening. My mind is spinning the entire time, trying to make sense of what Becca just told me.

What are the odds that both my mom and Becca’s mom are in Tampa at the same time? And that they both invited us to be there with them?

It feels too strange to be random, but the alternative makes even less sense.

“I’m going to be honest,” I say when the captain finishes. “This feels like a really weird coincidence.”

Becca nods. “If it matters, I’m just passing through Tampa. Mom’s meeting me at the airport, but then we’re driving down to Anna Maria Island. That’s where the beach house is.”

I let out a little laugh. This can’t actually be happening.

“What’s so funny?” Becca asks.

“Just that I’m also going to Anna Maria Island.”

Her eyes widen. “Shut up. Theo, what’s happening? Are they…? I mean, no. You said you’re going to meet your mother’s boyfriend, right?”

“Not boyfriend, exactly,” I say. “Just someone she met online. She said she wants to make sure he isn’t a serial killer, and she thinks having one of her sons with her when they meet for the first time will make him understand he shouldn’t mess around.”