Page 128 of Pucking Around

“That’s why I must walk fast,” he mutters. “They don’t stop me when I walk fast.”

I nod, understanding his dilemma. How many times have I all but run through an airport at my dad’s side, our coats pulled up over our heads to block a paparazzi shot? I snatch up my bag and sling the strap over my shoulder. “Alright then, big guy. Let’s do it.”

We take off, him speed-walking on his giraffe legs, me jogging at his side.

By the timewe get to the gate, they’ve already begun boarding. Mars checks his ticket, flipping his sunglasses up on top of his head.

“Now boarding all rows, all passengers, for flight 1647 with service to Cincinnati, leaving out of Gate C5,” comes the gate agent’s alert over the intercom.

“That’s us,” I say, tugging my own ticket out of the front pocket of my bag.

He leads the way over to the counter and we get checked in. It doesn’t escape my attention the way people milling around the gate openly stare. A few people raise up their phones, snapping pictures while his back is turned. I take an instinctual step back, keeping my gaze averted from any camera lenses.

The gate agent takes his ticket, scanning him in. “Thank you, Mr. Kinnunen. You’re in seat 2A.”

He mutters a word of thanks and moves past her towards the jet bridge.

She scans my ticket next. “And Ms. Price, you’re in 17B.”

“Thanks,” I murmur. “All good,” I say at Mars, joining him at the door.

We move down the jet bridge onto the plane. He gets to his row in first class, sliding into the window seat.

“See you when we land,” I say cheerily, already slipping a pod into my left ear.

“Wait—what?” he growls. “Rachel!”

I pause, glancing over my shoulder at him. “Yeah?”

“Where are you going?” He’s looking at me like I’m crazy.

The feeling is mutual as I look right back at him. “To my seat, Mars. It’s kinda the thing on airplanes,” I add. “Come on, you should know that better than anyone.”

He doesn’t return my smile. No, in fact, he looks pissed. His blond brows narrow over his deep blue eyes. “Why aren’t you sitting in first class?”

“Because I bought these tickets at the literal last minute. We’ll touch down in like 90 minutes,” I add with an indifferent shrug. “Hardly time to even get comfortable.”

At his look of supreme annoyance, I can’t help but roll my eyes. He wants me to sit next to him on this flight too.Really?“You can’t pull your goalie card on a commercial flight, Kinnunen. And it’s not a big deal, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”

People are piling up behind me, so I hurry down the aisle, not giving him a chance to respond as I go find my seat.

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Not a big deal, she says. This is a very big deal. My palms are sweating knowing that she’s on this plane and not next to me. I want Rachel next to me. I want Rachel.

2B is still empty. Why can’t she move up here? I’ll gladly pay. As I reach for the flight attendant call button, a man comes around the corner and I know he’s about to sit in the empty seat. He’s a businessman—golf shirt, slicked back hair, Rolex watch.

He looks right at me, dismissing me as he drops into Rachel’s seat. “Uh-huh. No—Chuck—I said, tell Danny I sent the specs on Friday.”

He’s on his phone, talking loudly into his earpiece. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin. Once they close that door, and we push back, there’s nothing I can do.

“I told you they’d go for it. Uh-huh.” My seat mate wordlessly accepts a mimosa from the flight attendant, not even looking up at her.

I politely wave her away.

“Well, just tell Danny that I’ll take care of it when I get back.”

With a groan, I lean in. “Excuse me.”

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