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I nearly choked at his playful expression. Nathan? Playful? What alternate universe were we in? I looked down at whereour knees almost touched, and the thought of holding his hand gave me a nervous thrill. I glanced up to find him staring at me. He didn't even do that thing where he averted his eyes like he normally did.
I realized an uncomfortable amount of time had passed since he made the joke. I should be laughing and rolling my eyes—not staring at him barely concealing the want in my eyes.
I cleared my throat. "Very funny."
He shrugged and looked at his phone.
“What about you?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the fact that this tiny, microscopic aircraft was going to be thousands of feet in the air soon.
“What about me?” he asked.
“Do you travel much?”
“Only for work,” he admitted.
“Seems to be a pattern for you.”
Nathan frowned and the lines between his eyebrows deepened. “I suppose it is.”
“Ever think there’s more to life?” I joked, hoping the question didn’t offend him.
He eyed me. With each passing second of silence, my body grew hotter and hotter under his gaze.
“Maybe lately,” he muttered, finally looking away.
"Should we go over the presentation before we get there?" I asked.
Before he could respond, the flight attendant appeared with a bright smile.
"Champagne?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, before glancing at Nathan. "Um, I mean…"
He gave a half-smile. "It's fine. I could use something to release the tension."
Same, I thought. Although I'm sure Nathan's tension wasn't coming from some unrequited crush like mine was.
The attendant poured two glasses and handed them to us. She asked Nathan if he needed anything else, but he shook his head.
I took a sip. The bubbly liquid slid smoothly down my throat.
"Not big on presentations, huh?" I asked.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Am I that obvious?"
Smiling, I took another sip. "You have appeared slightly pained all morning. I was hoping it was due to that and not present company."
"Present company is the only thing keeping me from ripping open the emergency exit and hurling myself out of this plane."
I laughed at the dramatic imagery while trying to quell the butterflies that had formed in my stomach because of his compliment—if you could even call it that.
"You can't be that bad of a presenter," I insisted, playfully shoving his shoulder. I recoiled immediately, scolding myself for finding any excuse to touch him. "You'll be fine."
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "When Ben and I were first starting out, I almost blew our shot at success. We had been running Pulse for a few years at that point, and it had just taken off. We came prepared with all the hard facts and numbers. I shared them all, but the investors had irritating questions and had a hard time understanding anything remotely technical. I got frustrated, to say the least. Ben took over and charmed them without so much as a single data point. Ever since then, he's been the face. He handles these things. I just try not to mess anything up."
"Nathan," I said. "You're a genius. You started a successful multi-million dollar company. You're basically in charge of the dating lives of hundreds of thousands of people. This”—I gestured to my laptop where I had pulled up the presentation—"is nothing."
His lip turned up slightly before he downed his champagne in one gulp. He grimaced and set the glass down on the table in front of him.
