Page 11 of Clean Point

‘Hi, how can I help?’

I tried my best to contain my absolute joy at seeing her, the anticipation of being free overwhelming. ‘Hi. I can’t sit here. I need to move. Is there another row I can go to?’

‘I’m sorry you and your husband—’

I shook my head furiously, cutting her off before it went too far. ‘Not husband. Stranger. Just need to move.’

He let out a laugh. ‘I’m offended you’d still describe us as strangers. I thought we had something more.’

I tried my best to resist the temptation to give him a dirty look, and instead, with a calming deep breath, I re-focused on the flight attendant, whose expression was turning more concerned with every second that passed.

‘Is there somewhere else I can sit?’ I asked again, keeping my tone matter of fact.

Her eyes glanced between us before she lowered them, coming closer to me. ‘Is he making you feel unsafe?’

I shook my head. ‘No, no, nothing like that.’ There were a million other things going on between us, but feeling unsafe wasn’t one of them.

He huffed, clearly a little offended. ‘If anything, I should be the one feeling unsafe.’

I closed my eyes, tried to imagine the relaxing beach we were flying toward, trying to find calm before I threw him out of the plane instead. I looked up at the flight attendant and found her eyes narrowed between us. ‘I’m sorry but it’s not procedure to let people move, in case of an emergency—’

‘Told you,’ Nico murmured, my fingers clenching into a frustrated fist.

‘Is there something else I can help you with?’

I shook my head at her, disappointment growing. ‘Nope, I guess not.’

‘Wonderful,’ she said, the polite smile returning to her lips. ‘Have a great flight.’

She turned, leaving Nico and I alone. I sat straight ahead again before slumping down and closing my eyes. This didn’t have to be so bad. I’d touched a penis before. I had done a lot with many penises. I was a certified expert – one quick Google search will tell you that well enough – but for some reason, I could not get past this. Maybe it was because of the way his whispered words sent my skin into goosebumps.

Or maybe, it was that knowing, cocky smirk burning itself into my memory.

‘Are you going to look at me now?’ he asked.

I didn’t dare to glance his way. ‘I can look at you whenever I want.’

‘Sure katsarída, whatever you say.’ His whispered accent rings again. On instinct, I turned to look at him.

Well, that lasted long.

His face was a sunshine glow of smugness, his eyes fixed on me. Satisfaction washed over his features as his lips curled upward.

‘Ka-Kat?’ I attempted to repeat, the pronunciation already lost to me.

‘It’s Greek.’

‘I assumed. What does it mean?’

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

I rolled my eyes at him, before pulling my phone out of my pocket to Google the term. ‘How do you spell it?’

‘Good luck getting a signal.’ He smirked, and I officially gave up. Letting out a frustrated breath, I looked around the cabin, searching for a vacant place, only to find all the seats in the nearby vicinity occupied.

‘Did you really burn down a boat in Italy?’ he asked, pulling my attention back to him.

‘First off, it was a yacht,’ I corrected. ‘Second, just because I was on board, doesn’t mean I set the fire.’

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