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She looks offended and scurries away.
Art checks on the carrier under his seat, and I catch Fluffer’s unhappy expression.
I never thought I’d say this, but I’d rather be eaten. Chinchillas aren’t meant to fly. We’re sane, unlike flying squirrels, sugar gliders, and humans.
Art coos something to him in Russian, and that seems to calm the little creature a bit.
Hey, even I feel calmer.
And sleepy.
Very sleepy, actually, which is understandable. I spent most of last night doing things with Art, not to mention how bad alcohol is for sleep.
Oh, well.
I close my eyes.
Might as well take a small nap.
* * *
I wake up as we land in New York.
Wow. Five hours of sleep. And yet, the headache is still there.
“Hello, sleepyhead,” Art murmurs when he notices my eyes opening.
“Hi.” A girl could get used to seeing that face when she wakes up.
The plane comes to a full stop, and the engines turn off.
“Did you rest well?” Art asks as the seatbelt signs click off.
“I think so.” I lift my hands to rub my eyes and notice someone has covered me with a plush blanket. “Thanks.”
“How is your headache?” He hands me a water bottle.
I accept it and take a sip. The water is cool and refreshing on my parched tongue. “Still hurts. You?”
“I’m much better.” He pulls out a packet of Tylenol and hands it to me. “Take this.”
I swallow the two pills and chug the water to make sure I’m properly hydrated.
He watches me with a strange expression. His eyes look warm, like chocolate fondue. “Did you know that you snore?”
I nearly choke, and some water comes out of my nose. “I do not.”
He takes out his phone and plays a track from the voice recorder app.
Yep. That’s snoring. “That could be anyone,” I say with a sniff. “Ladies do not snore.”
He lays his hand over my elbow. “You’ve foiled my dastardly plan. I totally recorded another woman snoring and tried to pass it off as you.”
If he keeps holding my elbow, I’ll let him get away with accusing me of making all sorts of unseemly sounds, be it snoring, burping, or bleating.
Sadly, he removes his hand to reach under the seat for Fluffer’s carrier.
“Dastardly plan indeed.” I mockingly narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t try that again—or anything else that involves the phrase ‘another woman.’”
