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“Okay, honey. Keep the ice on your head, though.”
“You’ve got it.” I noticed Mr. Hotty McHot shoot a glance in my direction, but then he hurriedly averted his gaze, put in earbuds, and completely ignored me.
I didn’t take offense. He had the whole unapproachable air down pat. As for me, I was advancing toward a headache with fierce speed.
After pulling my purse out from under the seat in front of me, I put it on my lap and searched for ibuprofen, but somehow, I managed to dump the contents on the floor.Typical.
My gorgeous seatmate sighed.
Yeah, well, right there with you, buddy. Bending down, I picked up my gum, keys, and ChapStick, wincing when the movement did nothing for my throbbing head. Then, after searching every pocket of my bucket purse, I found no headache medication. I could’ve sworn I’d put a bottle of Advil in there. Huffing out a sigh, I closed my eyes and sat back in my seat.
“Searching for this?” came Thor’s sexy voice.
I opened my eyes to see him holding up my Advil bottle, which appeared miniature in his giant hand.
“Yes. Thank you.” I took it from his fingers, only to drop the medicine again when piercing blue eyes met mine. Damn, his gaze framed in dark lashes should come with a panty-melting trigger warning.
Bending down, I felt around my feet and found the bottle. “Aha, got it,” I said but then sat up too fast and felt nauseous with the effort. Perhaps I should’ve deplaned and gotten my head checked, after all.
“Save any puking for the strip,” my empathy-challenged neighbor muttered.
“Wow, thanks so much for the advice.” Turned out dark-haired Thor was an asshole.
He didn’t bother to reply, merely shaking his head when I took out two pills and swallowed them down with the water the flight attendant had brought.
I might be a hot mess, but at least I wasn’t a dick.
“What did you say?”
Evidently, my internal filter had failed, and I’d said the words out loud. “Depends. What did you hear?”
Again with the exasperated headshake. Whatever. The flight was an hour long, and we were already airborne. As I gently probed the goose egg at my hairline, I decided on the television to keep me company. Only where the hell was the screen? Glancing to my left, I noticed the row across from us watching screens which were hooked to the seat.
I opened the lever on the armrest and tried pulling the screen out. Searched for the button to release it. Pulled again. Dammit, why didn’t this work?
Mr. Inked Forearms of Steel huffed and reached over, pushed down on the screen, and it popped up.
“Ahh. Thanks for the help.”
“I had no choice seeing as you were about to tear the seat apart like a rabid animal.”
“Guess we’ll add charming to the long list of adjectives I’ve come up with to describe you.”
He snorted at my reply, and I was saved from his retort when the flight attendant came up.
“Snack? Something more to drink?”
I was both famished and queasy. “Crackers and more water would be great.”
She passed me a package of graham crackers. “How’s the head?”
“Better, thanks,” I lied.
Mr. Grumpelstiltskin didn’t take a thing. No surprise. He looked like a carb hadn’t touched his body in years.
Thankfully, we settled into silence while I watched a cooking show and let the medicine finally take hold. I’d just dozed off when an announcement came over the speaker.
“If we have a doctor or trained medical professional on board, please ring your call button.”
