Page 382 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
He chuckles. “Oh, Audrey. I have so much to teach you.”
We stand like this, all wrapped up in each other, for another few minutes. Finally, Flint’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out. “Okay. Nate says we’re clear to board.”
We walk hand in hand to the gate, where the waiting ticket agent smiles so broadly, it looks like her face might crack.
“It’s a privilege to have you on board, Mr. Hawthorne,” she says, her voice a little breathless.
Flint smiles easily. “Thanks, Marcy. I appreciate that.”
We aren’t two steps away when she calls after us and asks for a photo.
Of course, Flint seems happy to comply.
Again, I marvel that he handles everything so effortlessly.
We settle into ourverycomfortable seats at the front of the plane, and I do my bestnotto make eye contact with the women sitting across the aisle from us, who are openly gawking. Flint is next to the window, so I angle my body toward him. If I’m staring at him, I can’t look at anyone else, even if I canfeeleyes on my back.
I give my body a little shake, even as all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It’s the most uncomfortable sensation, like tiny worms wriggling all over my skin. “Flint, I can literally feel people staring at us. How are you not squirming right now?”
“I promise you get used to it.” He pulls out his AirPods. “Here. Put one of these in. I was thinking we could watch a movie together.”
I make a face. “What kind of movie? Because I brought the latest edition of Wildlife Biology, and there’s an article on evolutionary behavior that I am very excited to read.”
“Uh, let’s definitely do that, then. You could read it out loud to me.”
If I didn’t notice the way his lip twitched, I might have thought he was serious. But I’m learning this man’s tells. Good actor or not, right now, I’m reading him loud and clear. I reach over and swat his chest. “Very funny, Mr. Hawthorne. But evolution is a very important subject.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he says, his tone more serious. “But come on. This will be fun. I spent over an hour searching for the perfect movie to keep you entertained on the flight. And I really think you’ll like this one.”
“Fine,” I say. “But later, I’m going to make you listen to my article.”
“Sounds like a perfect bedtime story,” he says. “It’ll lull me right to sleep.”
I roll my eyes at his joke, only momentarily distracted by the idea of going to bed with Flint. I’m positive Flint has zero expectations on that front. He’s given me control of whether we even kiss. But to maintain the charade, his PR guy Simon says we need to stay in the same room. At the very least, we need to appear as though we’re using the same bathroom, sleeping in the same bed. Otherwise, hotel staff might talk.
Apparently, it doesn’t take much to motivate a hotel maid to sell a few lines to gossip magazines. And “Flint Hawthorne’s girlfriend is sleeping in a different hotel room” would make a very juicy headline.
At least according to my sisters, who have dissected this entire situation inside and out.
After a flight attendant takes our drink orders, Flint turns on the movie, leans into the corner of his seat, then pulls me against him so I’m leaning against his chest. Like this, it’s easier for me to hold the phone, so I take it from him, making it possible for him to secure his arms around my waist.
Okay. So there are definitely worse ways to sit on an airplane, even if, from this position, I can see the ladies across the aisle staring us down.
The women can’t be much older than I am, and one of them is so blatantly ogling Flint that it makes my blood start to boil. Feeling surprisingly bold, I intentionally meet her gaze, lifting my eyebrows in ado you have something to saygesture.
The woman leans back the slightest bit and drops her eyes.
Behind me, Flint chuckles, his chest vibrating against me. “Well done,” he whispers.
Not sureactual for realjealousy is necessary for afakerelationship, but if it’s going to help sell it, well, might as well lean into how I’m feeling.
I tilt my head up and back and press a kiss to his jaw.
I feel more than I hear Flint take a stuttering breath when my lips press against him. His beard is sharp against my lips, but it’s a rasp I’ll take over and over if it means kissing him again.
Desire sparks in my gut, spreading outward, making me feel hot and tingly. I do my best to rein it in, both for the obvious reason—here is absolutely not the place—and the not-so-obvious.
Even if the not-so-obvious reasons are getting harder for me to remember.
