Page 35 of Midnight Ink

The plane starts to lift.

Holy shit, this is happening. My body stiffens, every muscle locking into place as if it’ll keep us grounded. Ian notices and gives me a small smile.

Then his fingers slip between mine and he gives me a gentle squeeze, keeping my thoughts here with him like an anchor dropping into place. I close my eyes and chew the gum while the pressure builds sharp and uncomfortable in my ears. “I’ll be okay.” I’m not sure if I’m saying that to him or myself.

I feel him squeeze my hand. “Of course you will.” His voice is right there at the edge of my ear. When I open my eyes, he’s right there, smiling. “You’re you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re brave,” he says softly. “Braver than I am. Following me to Puerto Rico to do something very heavy.”

“It’s a vacation.”

“Yeah.” The breathy word makes me shiver. “But it’s also more, isn’t it?” His smile lingers. “Thank you for being here.”

The plane finishes its climb then levels out. The seatbelt sign shuts off and we’re free to move about the cabin. “Always, Ian.” I give him a grateful smile.

“You’re an amazing friend, Jules.”

I swallow, his face still inches from mine. Close enough to see the tiny freckles across his nose and cheekbones. His dimples stay in place as he watches me.

Anna’s words loop in my head.

This is it. Time to be brave.

I need to make a move on this trip. I have to know if this feeling is something I should let go of, or something that could grow. I have to know. I’m thirty-four, I want to settle down with someone, and I want that someone to be him. And if it can’t be, I need to let him go.

Now’s my chance.

By the end of this, if Ian doesn’t want me, that’s okay. I just need to know the truth. I need to know if something is here.

I squeeze his fingers. “Same.”

NINE

JULIAN

Ajolt wakes me up without warning.

When did I fall asleep?

The plane shudders hard enough to rattle the overhead luggage, and a sharp dip makes my stomach lurch up into my throat. My breath catches painfully.

The seatbelt sign dings on, and it takes me a moment to process what’s happening through the fog of sleep. Outside the sky has turned a deep unsettling gray. The clouds look thick and angry, crowding the plane like a serpent squeezing the life from it.

Okay, I’m being very dramatic, but it doesn’t look good. Another violent jolt forces a tiny scream from my lungs. “Ian,” I say, my hands shaking, one of them still locked onto his.

He hasn’t let go?

“Turbulence. I was hoping you’d be able to sleep through it.” He turns to me, and I see him trying to ease my mind, but he looks a little nervous too. “Just look at me, Jules.

The plane drops a little, sending a ripple of gasps through the cabin. My chest tightens, anxiety crashing against my lungs. I faintly hear the captain reassure his passengers, but I barely hear it over my own rising panic.

“I can’t—” I take a breath, but my thoughts feel too loud. This is it. We’re falling out of the sky. This is it. This is how I go out.

Ian’s fingers squeeze mine hard, and his other hand closes over our joined fingers. Warm and solid. “Breathe, Jules,” he says steadily. “It’s just turbulence. We’re okay. You’re okay.”

Another bump. Harder this time.