Page 94 of Perfect Score

“How did you get on this flight?” he asks.

I turn back to face Brent. “The counter agent moved me up. I have something to tell you…”

“Ma’am… your seat,” the flight attendant says again, her voice a little more forceful this time.

I take another step farther in to make it look like I’m obeying her orders.

His eyes break from mine, and he looks down to watch the amber liquid in his glass swirl.

“You don’t need to tell me. I already know.” His voice somber.

It kills me to see him pull away from me like this.

“No, I—”

“Ma’am!” the flight attendant says, nudging me forward.

I don’t want to get kicked off this flight, and she’s literally corralling me like a sheepdog to my seat.

Okay, I get it, jeez.

“I said no!” I yell over my shoulder at Brent.

The flight attendant marches me down to the end, and the guy sitting in the aisle seat stands to let me in.

“I was going to go,” I say over my shoulder to the flight attendant.

“Well, now you have. We have a wheels-up time to catch, and you’re not going to make everyone else late for their connecting flights.”

I see the eyes of the other passengers all staring back at me, and I decide now is the time to shut my mouth.

I take my seat and thank the guy standing for getting up for me.

I bend down to push my camera bag under me, and when I lean back up, a large man hovers over my aisle buddy.

“Oh shit, you’re Brent Tomlin,” the guy sitting next to me says.

“Yeah, and you’re in my seat,” Brent says.

“Weren’t you in first class?” the man from the aisle seat asks.

“Yep, and now you are,” he says, handing the aisle guy his boarding pass. “I asked the flight attendant to get you a new whiskey. Merry Christmas.”

The guy sitting in the aisle seat looks over at me with confusion, and I just shake my head. Why Brent would give up first class to sit at the back of the cramped plane, I have no clue, but I hope the aisle guy moves his ass because I really want to find out.

He grabs his backpack and coat and stands.

“Thanks, man! Will you autograph this for me later?” he asks of the boarding pass.

“The faster you move out of the way, the er the likelihood,” Brent says with a smirk.

He’s teasing the guy, but a little fire in his eye tells me if the man standing between us doesn’t move soon, Brent will do the honors.

The guy leaves quickly with a smile on his face.

Brent plops down next to me and angles his entire body toward me. I swear everyone on the flight is staring back at us.

“Hi,” I say, a little in surprise.

---