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She checked off the box. “Last one. After a bad day, what would cheer you up most? Indulging in your favorite dessert, the knowledge you can overcome any obstacle, or a pep talk from a friend?”
The pilot called for the flight attendants to have a seat and prepare for takeoff. “Can the pep talk be naked?”
“Sure. All pep talks are better naked,” she answered with a trace of laughter. “Okay, according to your answers, you’re the fun seeker. You’re social, noncompetitive, and are primarily driven by the fun factor activities offer. Your main fitness roadblock may be a lack of commitment. You find it hard to stick with a regimen once the novelty wears off. Mix it up with outdoor activities like hiking or cycling to have fun and burn calories.”
I chanced a look to my left and found her staring at me with a curious smile.
“Right.” The plane sped up, and so did my breathing.
She frowned. “So, are you leaving on a trip or on your way home?”
“I…” I dropped my gaze to her hand when she moved it next to mine on the armrest. I wasn’t exactly going on vacation, but I wasn’t going home either. “I’m escaping.”
“Escaping to Pennsylvania?”
My voice wavered as the plane tilted up. “Ye-yes.”
“Did you rob a bank or something?”
“No. No bank robbing.”
“Too bad. I could really use some extra cash.”
My grip was white-knuckled. “Who says I’d give you any?”
“Just a little neighborly donation. Goodwill, karma. All that.”
“I could use some good karma.”
The wheels picked up off the ground, and the plane shifted, soaring into the sky. With the drop of my stomach, I snapped my eyes shut.
“Hey, you’re okay,” she said with a pat to my wrist, urging me to relax. I slowly released my stranglehold on the armrest, and she turned my hand palm up, pressing two fingers on my wrist. “Your heartbeat is really fast. You need to breathe.”
Eventually, I gathered enough nerve to open my eyes, and she nodded reassuringly. “Breathe with me.”
She inhaled and exhaled audibly, an example to follow. And I did. My gaze drifted from her shoulders to her chest, which rose and fell with each of her breaths. As we breathed in unison, the intimate contact between us didn’t seem to bother her even though we were complete strangers.
She offered my hand an encouraging squeeze. “We’re flying.”
I peeked out the window, through the white clouds. It was amazing, really, if I didn’t think about being in a death trap too long.
The pilot’s voice filtered through the plane, informing the passengers that we were at cruising altitude and would be flying for about two hours.
“You doing okay?” the woman asked.
When I nodded, she turned in her seat, lifting the armrest so there was nothing separating us. Mimicking her movements, I rested my left shoulder on the seat and finally got a good look at my personal anxiety panacea.
Her hair was a dark brown, almost black, and hung down to her shoulders, framing a pale face with cheeks that dimpled and eyes the color of the clear sky outside the window next to me.
“You were scaring me there for a bit.” How had I missed her voice before? Low and raspy and sexy as hell. “My name’s Bronte.”
“Bronte?”
“Like the sisters? My dad’s a literature professor, and my mom’s a librarian. They wanted us to have strong, literary names. My brother’s name is Fitzgerald.”
At my blank face, she tried again.
“Like F. Scott. You know,The Great Gatsby.”
