Page 25 of Love You Like This

“I have stuff down there already.”

“Right.” Makes sense as it’s their house we’re going to.

Stephen herds us all out of the house and into the waiting SUV. I slip on my headphones for the drive to the airport and stare out the window at the ridiculous LA traffic as we go. Nerves flutter in my belly at the thought of flying. I’ve been in an airplane twice, and that was on vacation to see Mom’s second husband’s parents in Indiana when I was little. I barely remember it.

I lean over to Xander when I realize we’re headed in the opposite direction of the airport. “Where are we going? LAX is in the opposite direction.”

“Van Nuys. We’re flying private.”

My lips part in surprise. “Oh.” I sit back against my seat. What a fucking wild life I’m leading now. From a little apartment in the valley to flying on a private jet. We haven’t even left LA, and I’m already feeling like a fish out of water.

I stick close to Xander as we walk through the private airport and to our waiting plane. Mom walks up the steps with the confidence of someone who was born for private jets and expensive mansions. Couldn’t be me. This plane looks kind of small to trust. I glance into the cockpit and see two pilots sitting there with checklists. A flight attendant smiles at us and welcomes us aboard.

The cabin has a small sofa along one side at the front and past it are two tables with comfortable looking seats. I drop down into one, and Xander sits beside me. Mom and Stephen take the table in front of us.

“I’m guessing you haven’t flown private before?” Xander asks as he settles in.

“I’ve only flown twice before, and it definitely wasn’t private.” I gesture around the interior of the plane. “This is absolutely wild to me.”

“It’s a lot better than being stuffed together with random people in coach.”

“Have you ever flown coach?” I side eye him.

His quick grin tells me everything I need to know before words do. “Nope.”

“Nepo baby.”

He shrugs. “I appreciate my privilege.”

The thing is, he’s not lying. He’s actually quite humble from the other guys we went to school with, and his dad has more wealth than most of them due to the series of blockbuster movies he produced. It comes down to Stephen being so kind and down to earth, I think. Must be the Midwest nice in him. When Mom first told me about him, I thought maybe the appeal was more money based for her, but I see now that it’s not. I’d never tell her that I had that thought at all, though. I know it would be too hurtful, and I’ve been ashamed of myself for so long for even entertaining it.

All that to say I still don’t think Mom will be able to stick with the marriage for longer than usual. As soon as the high of the honeymoon period wears off, she’ll lose interest. It’s just the way she is. The amount of time they’ll be spending apart won’t help.

My attention is redirected from worries about my mom to anxiety as the plane pulls out onto the runway. As we pick up speed and begin lifting off the ground, I grip the arm rests and press into the leather cushions at my back. My eyes are squeezed shut as I fight nausea from the G forces on my body.

A large, warm hand wraps around mine, and I open my eyes to look over at Xander. His eyes meet mine as he runs his thumb over the back of my hand.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs quietly.

“Thanks.”

The tension melts from my body in a way I wasn’t expecting. He doesn’t let go until I do, even though my palm is sweaty and I’m digging my nails into his skin. Warmth blossoms through my chest as I think about every kind thing he’s done for me. Over the past year he’s been there for me every step of the way. Starting at a new school, defending my honor at prom, teaching me how to surf. I was so wrong about him.

He’s a good guy.

A great one, actually.

And he’s ridiculously attractive.

Too bad he’s my stepbrother.

We don’t speak for the duration of the flight. Instead, I spend the time with those four thoughts rattling around in my brain. I’ve always thought he was hot, obviously, but with each day we grow closer, the harder it is to keep him firmly in the off-limits category.

I’ll be at UCLA next year, and he may be an entire continent away. Even if there is something growing between us and our parents don’t last, we wouldn’t either. Plus, I’ve never even seen him look twice at any girls. Maybe he’s gay? Or asexual? Or just not into me at all.

Then he goes and slips his hand in mine again as the plane careens toward the runway. Every thought I’ve been crafting in my mind about why we would never work flies right back out. I’m a sucker for a sweet gesture, and this really does it for me. The brush of his thumb over my skin is meant to be soothing, but instead heat pools between my legs.

Am I touch starved? Or just a hussy? Honestly, I’m not sure I care at this point. I just don't want him to let go.