Page 23 of In Flight

I should have been brave enough to do it.

Brave has never been me. Hiding in the shadows and doing my own thing has always been who I am. Isaac would probably have a few choice words to say about that claim, but that shouldn’t be relevant to my peace of mind or decision-making.

Overall, I’m torn between nerves and relief as I wave goodbye to Cash and head into the airport.

There’s no sign of Isaac as I get through security and walk to the gate. And there’s no sign of him as I wait until they start boarding. Still no sign as I get in line, get scanned through to the plane, and maneuver my way to my seat.

I’ve settled myself and my stuff into position and checked my phone for messages, but there’s still no glimpse of Isaac’s broad shoulders and rumpled mop of brown hair.

Maybe he got delayed. Maybe something came up. Maybe anything. There’s absolutely no way for me to know. I don’t have his number. We’ve never been in contact outside the airport. He could have dropped off the planet sometime during the past five days, and I’ll never know what happened.

Not pleasant thoughts. I’m working on mentally resettling myself when I’m suddenly aware of a warm, familiar presence.

Isaac. Grinning at me endearingly as he stows his suitcase and then slides into the seat beside me.

So who can blame me? I smile back.

He’s holding a small box in one hand. A box from a familiar bakery.

“What’s that?”

He twitches his eyebrows—arching them a few times in a row in quick succession—and doesn’t answer. He takes his time as he shrugs out of his suit jacket, loosens his tie, slides out his iPad, and stows it in the pocket before he finally opens the lid of the box.

Two cupcakes like the ones I took to Raven.

He carefully takes out one and balances it on a small napkin on the narrow armrest between us. “You missed out on yours last week because you gave it to me.”

The warm wave of pleasure and appreciation that washes over me threatens to melt me into goo. “I see you got yourself another one.”

“Of course. It would be rude for you to eat one in front of me when I was bereft, and I’m far too honorable to put you in that position.”

It takes effort to stifle a giggle. “That’s very chivalrous of you.”

“I think so.”

I swipe a small fingerful of icing and pop it into my mouth.

Isaac watches with laughter in his eyes.

Inspired, I draw my bag out from under the seat with my foot and then reach down to snag the strap. I pull out a collapsible cup I always carry with me and pour half my tea into it, handing it to Isaac and trying to mimic his sober expression and laughing eyes.

He somehow knows exactly what I’m attempting. “Nope,” he says, accepting the tea and taking a sip. “You don’t quite have it. Your dimples are showing.”

With an exaggerated eye roll, I try again, but the amusement keeps bubbling up. I have no idea how to keep it down.

“Still no.”

“Fine,” I huff. “Whatever. Some of us aren’t naturally talented at hiding what we’re feeling.”

“Do you think it’s natural talent or practiced skill?”

“I think it’s your contrary nature. It’s not a skill I have any desire to cultivate, so don’t get too pleased with yourself.”

“I thought you might be nice to me today. I brought you a cupcake.”

I gently pull down the wrapper of mine and take a small bite. I take my time, enjoying both the taste and Isaac’s impatient expression before I swallow. “A single cupcake doesn’t buy you niceness.”

“How many cupcakes would buy me that?”

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