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Andrew
Ihate feeling so helpless. My body has been tight, especially at work, ever since Hazel warned us about Kaitlyn.
I know your secret.
Kaitlyn knows she’s untouchable and that defending ourselves would jeopardize our jobs. I hate knowing I can’t even, at the very least, stand up for Hazel and Dylan.
His hands grip the tiller with white knuckles. Dylan can’t really relax either.
There’s an indescribable tension that lingers when we’re all faced with keeping a secret. Acting like nothing’s happening, even though we desperately want to.
I place my hand on his and his eyes whip to mine.
“Relax.”
“I will if you will.”
His smile tells me he’s relaxing and everything is fine- but his body language is telling a different story. After the passengers deplane, we finish up some paperwork and all procedures are run though, it’s time for us to check into our hotel.
Sleek lines and large windows encompass the building’s entrance. The lights are warm yellow and hang down from the ceilings, illuminating the perfect marble table tops. Over time, the unmistakable hotel smell has really become one of my greatest comforts.
“Hey, do you want to have a drink after we settle in? I can’t believe I’m the one saying this, but you look like you really need to relax.”
Dylan smiles.
“I’d love that.”
Our rooms are right next to each other. They might as well be connected, but after this whole situation with Kaitlyn, we don’t dare tell the airline that.
I need a night off from my uniform and change into a deep green V-neck shirt and jeans. I love this shirt because it reminds me of Hazel- she told me it makes the green in my dark blue eyes really pop. It wasn’t until she wore it that I realized what she was saying, because her eyes blew me away.
I whip open the door to see Dylan in the hall, wearing black from head to toe, leaning against the wall. Black t-shirt, black jeans, dark hair, with only a sprinkle of color coming from his gold watch that only accentuates his masculine wrists.
“The bar looked pretty empty when we came up, maybe we’ll be lucky and have it all to ourselves,” Dylan says as we round the corner.
He’s right. Not a soul in sight. At least not a soul who doesn’t work there. We sit and grab a beer.
“It’s on me,” I say, smiling at him and hoping to see him soften up.
He’s so rigid. I’ve never seen him like this. Not even when we were fighting, or when Hazel was upset with us. Those times he still maintained his cool- even when he was upset- but this is different. He’s in survival mode now.
“Thanks.”
Dylan takes a deep breath.
“Are you worried about… you know?”
I don’t know how to word it.
Dylan nods, taking a large gulp of beer.
“Me too.”
“I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t be a pilot anymore, Andrew.”
I can feel his knee against mine under the table. I have the urge to place my hand on it, and rub comforting twirls into it, but I don’t. Instead, I just listen. I want him to get it all out and release his worried steam.
“I haven’t ever done anything else. I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.”
