Page 65 of Beautiful Collide

“And that is?” I counter, raising an eyebrow.

“Drive you crazy,” he says, leaning back with a triumphant grin.

“Hasn’t it been long enough? I get it, you hate me, but seriously. Grow up,” I shoot back, crossing my arms defiantly.

“What fun would that be?” he retorts, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Why does he always look like he’s having the time of his life, even when he’s being the worst? It’s infuriating.

“A lot,” I deadpan, my expression unyielding.

I pivot my body away from him, trying my best to tune him out. The man is like a gnat . . . persistent, annoying, and impossible to ignore.

I can’t find my earphones, which doesn’t bode well for this flight.

If this were a normal flight, we would have the little free headphones the flight attendant passes out, but since this isn’t a far trip, the team chartered an older, smaller plane that apparently doesn’t have entertainment.

Of course. Because when it rains, it pours.

“Can’t find whatever you’re looking for?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

“That sucks. What to do? What to do?” he asks himself.

As if I don’t know his plan is to drive me up the wall. Hudson leans forward, and I brace for verbal impact.

By coincidence, the plane’s wheels start to move.

As the plane bounces down the runway, the sound is loud enough that maybe I won’t need the headphones.

Just as the wheels lift and the plane takes flight, he finds what he’s looking for, pivoting to me, headphones in his hand.

“Don’t say I didn’t do anything for you . . . twice.”

His words carry a mix of smugness and truth, and I hate him for it.

Once up in the air, I’m hopeful the flight will go by fast. If I remember correctly, it’s only two hours, so that’s not too bad.

Two hours. Just one hundred and twenty minutes of pure torture. Totally survivable.Yeah, probably not.

Not much is worse than being stuck next to Hudson for the flight. A flight with turbulence would make it worse.

The seats aren’t too cramped, so at least I have that going for me, but the thing is, Hudson is larger than life.

His presence suffocates in the worst and most distracting way possible.

Cramped seats? Annoying. But even a few hours squeezed into a tiny airplane seat, elbow to elbow with my archnemesis?Still too much.This has to be my personal hell.

Now that the plane is at a cruising altitude, I settle into my seat.

From the corner of my eye, I see Hudson recline his. He doesn’t go all the way, which surprises me. He goes just far enough back to be comfortable but not far enough to bother whichever of his teammates sits behind him.

It’s a small thing, barely worth noticing, but it feels intentional. Thoughtful, even. It throws me off.

It’s oddly sweet. Although I don’t want to admit that.

I move my body again. I’m not one to lean back, but I’m not comfortable.

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