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Rosa gasps, whispering, “Chelsea!” under her breath, but we both ignore her.
“You mean it?” I ask, stepping closer to her.
She sends me a little smile and my heart melts at the sight of it. That’s a real smile. An “am I convincing?” smile, and I grin back, sweeping her into a big kiss right there in front of everyone.
It’s meant to be for show, but I’m so damn happy to have her in my arms again, so relieved that she didn’t change her mind about this whole thing—or about me—that it goes on far longer than it needs to.
Kandy finally breaks the tension with a sharp ahem, and we pull apart, both looking over at her questioningly. She’s not even really trying to hide how she’s fuming now. Her face is red and screwed up in anger and she’s all but sputtering at us.
Chelsea gives her a big grin. “Oh, don’t worry. Of course you’ll get the first scoop of our reunion, Kandy!”
That wasn’t planned, but I’ve got to give my girl props; it has the desired effect. I almost can’t believe she goaded her like that and it’s taking everything in me not to laugh out loud.
“But what about his drug habit? Aren’t you worried he’ll overdose like your brother?”
Chelsea stiffens a little, but she’s prepared for it. There isn’t a whole lot Kandy can use against her, and she’s used the dead brother card enough times that Chelsea can see if coming from a mile away.
“Ian made one mistake—assuming that stuff was even his—but we all make mistakes. What we have is worth forgiveness. He can’t do it again,” she says, sending me a warning glance.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “I swear.”
“See? He promises. What’s love without a little faith?” she says, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek.
Kandy struggles for words some more, but finally settles down in time for Rosa to bustle over to us, glaring at Chelsea.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she hisses, looking at me like I’ve just rolled out of a dumpster.
“I do,” Chelsea says, grinning and clinging to me. I almost feel bad for not looping Rosa in to all of this. Almost. But she’s been against me from the very beginning so this is a little bit of payback. Yeah, it’s petty, sue me. I’m feeling on top of the world right now and I feel like I’m entitled to a little bit of pettiness.
We make our way to the big U-shaped couch for takeoff and we don’t let up on the PDA at all. I’m holding her, touching her, kissing her until she squeals in delight and dissolves into giggles. But the whole time we’re watching Kandy as she hacks away at her keyboard, darting poisonous looks in our direction.
The flight’s probably about halfway over when she gets up and heads back to the restroom. Or, at least that’s her excuse. The bedroom with all our bags is just beyond the bathroom and once she’s out of sight, Chelsea and I both get up to follow her. Rosa’s fast asleep, her face pressed against the window, but Merrill spots us and arches an eyebrow. I shake my head and wave him off. He sits back in his seat giving me an uncertain look. I know that look. He’s saying “I don’t know what you’re up to, but you seem to have it under control so don’t make me regret not getting involved.”
Yeah, when you’ve spent as much time with someone as I have with Merrill, you can read all of that in one expression.
We creep back toward the bathroom and find the door still open, so we both squeeze into the tiny space and peer around the corner. Kan
dy’s pulling something out of her own bag and muttering to herself as she unzips my bag and stuffs the baggie in there.
That’s all I need. And it’s all Chelsea needs too. She nods at me and I step out of the bathroom.
“Weird, this isn’t the bathroom,” I say loudly enough that Merrill can hear. Kandy freezes, my bag open in front of her on the bed.
“And I don’t think that’s Kandy’s bag, is it?” Chelsea asks innocently.
“No, sweetheart, it isn’t,” I say, stepping forward to rip the plastic bag from Kandy’s hands. Just like before, there’s a needle, a lighter, a spoon—everything a junkie needs to shoot up in the convenience of one little baggie. I’m expecting a hint of desire, just from holding the supplies, but all I feel is anger as I shove it back at Kandy.
“Looks like something of yours found its way into my bag,” I snarl.
She narrows her eyes at me and grins this malicious smile that almost makes me worried. “I was snooping,” she admits, sounding almost contrite, “but I just wanted to show Chelsea what a mistake she’s making in trusting you again. And clearly I was right. You deserve better than him, honey,” she says, sounding like she feels bad that Chelsea got duped by me. But luckily, there’s no swaying Chelsea from my side now. She’s not falling for it.
“I appreciate the concern, honey, but I saw you take that out of your bag. I’m not an idiot, despite what you write about me.”
Kandy loses all pretense of pleasantness then, her face contorting into an ugly mask of rage and rejection.
“Who’s going to believe you? A junkie and the girl dumb enough to go back to him, or a respected journalist?”
“So you admit it, then?” I press. She’s still convinced she’s won. Maybe we found her out, but she thinks she’s going to get away with it.
