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“Much actually,” I admit. A slight buzz runs through my veins as I finally feel the effects of the first couple of drinks.
“Good.” He smiles and for the first time I realize just how different his smile is than Kam’s.
Don’t get me wrong, they look very similar, but when I’m not so focused on Kamden, I can see that they don’t look nearly as much alike as I had originally thought they did. And oddly enough that doesn’t disappoint me like I thought it would.
“We should probably get going. Getting through security can be pretty time consuming sometimes,” he suggests, standing.
“Okay.” I nod. Sliding off my stool, I grab the handle of my suitcase, dragging it behind me as I follow Kane out of the bar and through the airport.
I’ve heard horror stories about getting through airport security but surprisingly me and Kane pass through without an issue and reach our terminal in less than thirty minutes.
By the time we board the plane a few minutes later, I’m feeling much more relaxed, thanks in a large part to the whiskey, but also thanks to Kane. For being a little intimidating, he really is pretty easy to talk to once you let your guard down a little.
Kane leads us to our seats, which thankfully are next to each other, and insists that I take the window seat. As much as I appreciate the gesture, I almost think I’d rather sit toward the middle of the plane but, of course, I’m not going to tell him that.
I look out the window nervously as several other passengers file on board. The closer we get to taking off the more anxious I become.
“You okay?” Kane asks, pulling my attention from the window to his face.
“Yeah, fine.” I force a smile.
“You sure?” He gives me a lopsided grin. “Because you kind of look like you’re about to vomit all over the seat in front of you.”
“I’m not going to vomit.” I shake my head, wondering for a brief moment if maybe I am going to be sick.
“Seriously, Elara. You look terrified.” He reaches into my lap and takes my hand, causing my heart to race even faster than it already was.
“I didn’t think being on a plane would be so scary,” I admit.
“Wait. You’ve never flown before?”
“No.” I shake my head back and forth.
“How is that possible?” he questions. “I would think a little daredevil such as yourself would love flying.”
“I am not a daredevil,” I interject. “Yes, I love the rush of doing something exciting… living on the edge if you will. But I am always, always, in control and that’s the big difference here.”
“So you’re a control freak.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m a freak. Just that I like to be in control of my own body. In here, I’m at the mercy of the pilot and the plane. Two things that I have zero control over. I don’t like feeling like I’m powerless.”
“I guess I get that.” He squeezes his fingers around mine, his thumb tracing slow circles across the back of my hand.
What is it about him touching me that makes me feel so…fluttery? That’s not even a word and yet it’s the only thing I can think that describes the way I feel right now.
“I just can’t believe you agreed to this trip having never been on a plane.”
“No time like the present I guess.” I shrug, a small smile pulling up the corner of my mouth.
“Well I’ve flown hundreds of times and I can assure you that you’re perfectly safe,” he says, finally releasing my hand as he sits back in his seat.
“So we will be in Chicago until tomorrow?” I clear my throat and straighten my posture, praying he doesn’t see the glimpse of disappointment that I’m sure flashes across my face at the loss of contact.
“Yes.” He swallows and the action draws my eyes to his throat.
Without even realizing what I’m doing, my gaze slowly descends past the v-neck of his white t-shirt to the cut of his broad chest, the definition of his muscle clearly visible through the light, thin fabric. I have to physically fight the urge to reach out and touch him.
Finally snapping out of my fog, I turn my gaze upward to find him watching me intently. Heat immediately rushes to my cheeks and I quickly look away, knotting my hands back into my lap.
