Page 66 of Beautiful Collide

My back is on fire. It feels stiff, and my nerves are frayed.

And why won’t the tension in my shoulders go away?

I’m really a mess. Maybe I’ll do what he did. Recline my seat just a little bit.

I reach my hand out and press the button, the back of my seat moving a few inches before I stop.

“Are you inspired by me?”

“Um, no,” I murmur.

The words come out clipped and way too defensive. Why do I always feel like I’ve walked right into a trap whenever I talk to him?

“Then why did you move your seat like mine?” he says, trying to bite back a smirk.

I roll my eyes. “Oh, sorry, are you the only person allowed to recline?”

“No, but I’m the only one to do the half recline.” He points around the plane. “Most are full recline or no recline.” I want to knock the smug look off his face. He’s impossible. He’s acting like he invented the concept of reclining.

I try to tune him out, distracting myself by looking at pictures on my phone. My lips spread as I see a picture of Josie and Dane.

“They’re cute.” I hear from beside me.

I nod. “They are.”

“Do you think you’ll keep working for him?”

I turn to face Hudson, my brows furrowing. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just figured—”

“That Josie would handle it? Hardly.”

“No. I just thought—”

“And herein lies the problem, Wilde, you thought.”

His jaw stiffens, and my stomach tightens. Why do I always do this? Speak first, think later.

It’s like I have no control over myself. A reflex.

Maybe I went too far. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so mean to him.

An uncomfortable silence stretches between us.

Reaching into my bag, I pull out my Kindle and try to focus on the book I’ve been reading, but the harder I try to read, the more hyperaware I am of the fact that he’s placed his arm on the armrest between us.

Despite trying not to think about it, I can’t stop.

A part of me wonders if he’ll touch me.

The thought shouldn’t even cross my mind. It’s a ridiculous thought.

Yet . . .

My heart pounds heavily in my chest.

Do I want him to?

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