Page 16 of Between Here and There

Stop it, that’s your sister’s best friend. Don’t think about her like that.

The flight attendant follows her and says to us, “I hope you two sort it out. Have a good flight.” We thank her as she proceeds to tell everyone else to take their seats.

“Hey,” I say, in a much flirtier tone than I intended. I take her carry-on and lead her toward our seats.

Before she takes a seat, she looks at me and says, “So we’re a couple now?”

“Well, it’s either play my girlfriend or get cozy with Mr. Creepy-stare and Mr. Handsy back there,” I offer, waving a hand back toward them. “Unless you actually preferred that…”

“No!” She says instantly. “Donotsend me back there. They weren’t only creepy but they smelled funky,” she says as she scrunches her nose. Cute.

“Very well, take a seat, honey.” I smile sarcastically and she smiles back. She proceeds to take a seat, with the barrier between our seats still up. I move over to the other side to settle into mine just as the seatbelt lights turn on. I badly want to slide the barrier to tease her again, but it probably won’t do us any good.

Just as I’m accepting the fact that I won’t see her until the flight ends, Emily’s face pops up next to me, our barrier now gone.

“Hey, Joshua,” she whispers like she’s about to tell me a big secret. The sound of my name casually slipping out of her mouth makes my insides squirm a little. “Is it still possible to go back there?” She motions to where she was seated earlier. “I, uh, left something.”

“What did you leave?” I ask.

“Something important,” she says.

“And that would be?” I raise my eyebrows.

Emily lets out a long sigh. “Fine.” Her voice returns to its usual volume. “I left this little stress ball I always bring on flights. I can’t survive without clutching it.” When I don’t immediately respond, she elaborates further, “I’m, um, kinda scared of flying.” She avoids my gaze as if expecting me to make fun of her.

For a second, I just look at her. All the confidence she’s had before suddenly disappears, exposing her vulnerability. As I glance down, I notice her hand is gripping the armrest between us so tightly, her knuckles are almost white. I feel a strange protectiveness kick in when I see her barely holding herself together.

I clear my throat softly. “I don’t think we can stand now, Emily,” I say, glancing at the seatbelt light that’s still glowing overhead. “But how about this,” I suggest. “Can I hold your hand?”

Emily looks confused, but she nods slowly. I reach out and take her hand from the armrest and hold it in mine, sliding my fingers into hers. Her hand is cold and it makes me shiver slightly. “Clutch my hand instead. Think of it as a sexy version of your stress ball,” I joke, trying to lighten up the situation.

She rolls her eyes, her lips twitching with a hint of a smile. Her smile fades before she asks, “Are you sure? I clutch that stress ball really hard.”

I chuckle slightly, squeezing her hand a little. “Break my bones if you want to, babe,” I say playfully. I never called anyone babe before, I never dared to let it slip in case I give off the wrong impression.

“Gosh, you aresobreezy,” she says with a chuckle, but she doesn’t let go.

“I’ve been told.” I shrug.

Before Emily could respond, the plane begins its ascent. And I realize just how tightly she’s been holding onto me. Her grip tightens so much that I almost wince.Wow, looks like she really can break my bones. But of course, I don’t show her that I’m in pain. Instead, I give her a smile—–soft and reassuring—–and put my other hand over hers, providing her an extra layer of comfort.

Her eyes flick toward me for just a second, like she’s checking in, making sure I’m still here. And I am. I don’t move, even though my fingers are going numb from how hard she’s squeezing me.

For the rest of the trip, it becomes a little routine. She’ll let go to do something—eat, drink, go to the bathroom—but every single time she comes back, her hand finds mine again, as naturally as if we’ve been doing this for years. And the strangest part? I don’t mind. Her hand just fits in mine, like it belongs there. This can’t be good, can it?

I don’t think about it too hard, it’s just for the flight. I’m just helping someone feel better. Once we land in Manila, I’ll keep my distance. No need to complicate things. I’ll lay low, avoid her, and we’ll go our separate ways.

That’s the plan.

CHAPTER TEN

Emily

My stress ball is gone and has been replaced by a tattooed hand belonging to an insanely hot man. At first I was skeptical, I thought it would feel too weird. But surprisingly, it wasn’t weird. It’s strangely, wonderfully comforting.

When we arrive in Manila, the shift in atmosphere is immediate and unmistakable. The air is thick with humidity, wrapping around me like a warm blanket, and so different from New York’s crisp coolness. I’m already sweating even when I’m barely moving.

We collect our baggage, and Joshua heads off to get the car. I sit at the pickup point with our luggage, the warmth of the pavement seeping through my shoes. Somewhere nearby, I hear the sharp beeps of horns and cheerful chatter bouncing between strangers. I watch the flurry of families embracing after long flights, drivers holding up signs with names scrawled in marker, and the occasional vendor weaving through the crowd selling bottled water and snacks.

---