Page 1 of Until We Kiss

1

recently

i think a soulmate

is someone

who will make you

be the most you

that you can possibly be.

~frxgileveins

I’m so damnnervous.

And I can’t stop fidgeting. It’s my first airplane flight since my last knee surgery five months ago, and my doctor cleared me, but I didn’t think I’d be so uneasy. Here I am though, my fingers drumming against my thigh, an inch above the scars hidden under an old pair of sweatpants with the IFU Football logo printed down the side, and a million thoughts are torpedoing through my brain. The plane banks right, a stretch of evening sun streaking through the window. It swells this pretty orangecolor, and I try to breathe and focus on that, but I’m still thinking.

Alot. Too much. Nerves popping, even though I don’t fully know why.

To make matters worse, I’m cramped in this miniature-sized airplane seat, my ass locked in the middle, with my knees wedged against the tray table, and my shoulders squashed so I don’t spread over the armrest onto the girl on my right.

Carter’s on my other side, in the aisle seat, and he apparently has no problems taking up all the space. Heneverhas a problem taking up all the space. His legs are spread, stretching into what is clearly my designated seat zone, his knee rubbing against mine at every bump and jolt. And he’s talking, big and loud, twisted to chat with Dorian who’s across the aisle. They’re both laughing, Dorian at a more normal volume, but Carter belts out a laugh so loud that heads turn the entire length of the plane.

He doesn’t seem to notice.

That’s just Carter.

Big. Loud. Kinda chaotic.

I dunno why that makes me want to smile.

We hit another rumble of turbulence, another rub of his leg, and the soft blond hair on the side of his knee sticks out, picking up static electricity when it rasps against my sweatpants. Every time he knocks into me, the inseam grazes against my inner thigh, this little spark of lightning echoing in my balls. Is it weird I keep thinking about that?

I shift my leg an inch away, but he just closes the distance mindlessly again, still twisted back to talk to D. I don’t even know what they’re talking about—I’m too in my head. But D’s nodding and in the seat next to him, Rory’s sucked into his eReader, his hair a deep red under the cabin lights, and he’s chewing on his bottom lip like he’s reading something… interesting?

Suddenly Carter twists back around to look at me.

“I’m so fuckingstoked,” he says, amber eyes lighting like he’s just won a year of free hot wings. He’s said that at least twenty times since we got in the Uber this morning, and every single time he says it, his eyes shine brighter, that lopsided dimple he has on one cheek indenting with his smile. He’s all big energy in his bro-a-saurus t-shirt and with his dirty blonde, slightly curly hair swept back by his hand a million times. “It’s like we’re already there. Can’t youfeelit?”

“Yeah,” I say, trying to sound convincing. Iamtrying to be excited. I’m just… thinking. “I’m pumped.”

His dimple disappears. “You don’t gotta lie, bro.”

“I’m not lying,” I say. “I am excited. Just ready to get off this plane.”

“Fair enough.” His eyes flick over me, and we lurch to the right, my knee banging into the seat in front of me, a jab of pain lacing deep into my thigh. I grit down on my molars, my hand tightening into a fist that I keep hidden by my side. Being cramped up like this isn’t helping.

“You shoulda sat here.” He tips his chin toward my knee. “I kept telling you that.”

“Nah. This is my assigned seat.” I release my clenched fingers as the pain switches to a dull throb.

His brows rise. “Are you? Because we could still switch. In fact, if you weren’t a giant ball of muscle, I’d probably try to pick you up andmakeyou switch.”

I shrug. “I’m good, really.”

Why do I get the sense that he doesn't believe me?

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