Page 40 of In Flight

“Maybe. But I’m not convinced.” He doesn’t look hurt or disappointed, which is a relief. Mostly he appears curious. “Since when am I the one more willing to go with emotions out of the two of us?”

“That is a strange turnaround,” I admit. “And I’m not saying I don’t want to... to see what happens. But I’m kind of nervous about it too.”

“Oh.” He looks away, appearing to be hiding a smile. “I see.”

“What do you see? Why are you looking so smug?”

“No reason.”

“There isn’t any reason to be smug about this. I’m serious about my concerns.”

“I know you are.”

“Then why do you look like you’re sure you’re going to get your way?”

“No reason.” His mouth is twitching just slightly. It’s adorable and infuriating both.

“Stop saying that.”

“Then stop asking questions that have that as an answer.”

“Ugh! You’re the most obnoxious person! You know that, don’t you?”

“I’ve been told more than once. Mostly by you, but still...”

I’m torn between giggling and continuing the argument. The conflicting impulses tighten my throat until I end up in a coughing fit that eventually leads to tears streaming out of my eyes.

Without missing a beat, Isaac leans over, finds another one of those luxury napkins, and offers it to me.

I wipe my face and finally clear my throat. Then I glance at the wadded napkin in my hand. “Why do you always have such a good supply of these?”

“They lay them out with bottles of water whenever I have a meeting in the conference room at the Savannah office. I never use them, but they seem like they might come in handy, so I keep them.”

“Oh. Very convenient.” I flash him a quick smile before I dab my eyes one more time.

“I think so.” He pauses for a minute while we look at each other. Then, “So what do you think?”

“About what?”

“About my smugness from before. What are you thinking about it?”

“Oh.” I know exactly what he’s asking. Whether I want to pursue whatever it is that’s been growing between us. The question hits me squarely and terrifies me for a moment.

“If you’re not sure,” he says after a minute, “then we can just let it sit for the weekend.”

“Let it sit?”

“Yes. Let it rest. Not get all uptight about it.”

“I’m not all uptight!”

“I know you’re not, but you’re hesitant. And I’m not a pushy, demanding kind of person. I can wait.”

“Until Sunday?”

“Until whenever. Until you’re sure.”

I swallow. Process what he’s telling me. Then I smile and nod. “Okay. Thank you.”

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