Page 8 of Trashy Affair Duet

“Oh, well that makes me feel much better.” But I can’t stop a grin from teasing the edges of my mouth.

He shrugs with the same partially hidden smile he graced me with a minute ago.

The flight attendants begin their pre-flight check and go through the safety information I’m sure frequent fliers tire of hearing. As the plane starts to taxi, I settle into my seat and attempt to relax my hands in my lap.

But after we hit the runway and tilt skyward, I grip the armrests as if they’re the only things stopping me from hurtling to certain death. Only three hours until we land in Seattle. Three more hours to a fresh start.

A warm hand slides over mine, and my gaze crashes into his.

“You’re doing great.” He leans closer, talking above the engines of the aircraft. “The takeoff and landing are the worst. Just a few more minutes and we’re home free.”

My heartbeat is thundering in my ears way louder than the noise of this deathtrap of a plane. I’d blame it on anxiety from flying, but truth be told, it probably has more to do with his warm hand on mine. His fingers and knuckles are free of calluses, just like Perry’s.

Except my boss never made my heart race this fast, and he never made me feel like he gave two shits about me. The difference is a stark slap in the face. This man doesn’t even know me, but I sense genuine kindness in him.

Why didn’t I recognize Perry’s arrogance? Was I nothing more than a conquest to him? Why did he leave his group that night and sit next to me? I’ve never asked myself that last question until now, and it irks the fuck out of me that I can’t remember much about that night.

“So, what’s taking you to Seattle?” he asks, and I wonder if he wants to know for real, or if he’s just making conversation. Or maybe he brought it up to distract me, since I still haven’t unfurled my fingers from the grip I have on the armrest.

A hard swallow dislodges the past from my throat. “I’m visiting my best friend. She moved there a few months ago.”

“Have you ever been?”

I shake my head, and he gives my hand a comforting squeeze. I like his touch too much, which is just…crazy.

“Now’s a good time to go. We don’t get as much rain this time of year.”

“I’m excited to see her,” I say, but my voice cracks. He makes me nervous—possibly as nervous as flying does—and I don’t understand why. I draw in a ragged breath, but the higher the plane climbs, the whiter my knuckles become. It isn’t until the seat belt light goes off that I let go of the armrests.

He pulls away, but his touch has seeped into me, and the phantom heat of it lingers long after our hands return to their respective places.

The flight attendants make their rounds and take drink orders. They also hand out towels. I stare at the rolled-up damp cloth, confused until I figure out from watching other passengers that I’m supposed to use it to freshen up. I wipe my sweaty palms on the warm cloth, and the man at my side quirks an amused smile.

“What?” I say, affording him a sideways glance. “I’ve never flown first class. This is like…a life-changing experience.”

God, this whole day is altering the course of my life.

“Life-changing, huh?” He lifts a brow. “Wait until you taste the food.”

We both laugh, and my embarrassment over not knowing what the fuck I’m doing vanishes. This gorgeous man somehow sets me at ease with a quirk of a brow and a little laughter. I spy his left hand and am relieved to find it empty of a wedding band, so I decide to let this surreal trip through the air wash away the heartbreak of the day. I want to lose myself in his presence.

“You live in Seattle?” I ask.

“Born and raised.”

“What’s it like living there?”

“Well, the weather sucks most of the time and traffic is horrendous, but it’s a beautiful city. It’s home. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.” He shifts in his seat and eyes me. “Where are you from?”

“A small town on the outskirts of Oklahoma City.” Unwittingly, my thoughts drift back to the place I still consider home, even though I have no intention of returning to the disaster I left behind anytime soon. The magnitude of what I’m doing hits me all over again, and I can barely believe I went through with this insane idea.

I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. Only Lesley knows of my plans. Shortly after tossing a bundle of clothes into a suitcase, I’d turned my cell off, growing tired of hearing how the world was coming to an end. Mom wouldn’t stop calling until I answered, but I hadn’t wanted to deal with her bullshit. My thoughts drift to my sister, and I imagine her standing on my doorstep after her shoot ended, confused that I wasn’t there waiting.

My eyes sting again, and this time I’m not sure I can stop them from purging the hurt. Suddenly, the obsidian void beyond the window is fascinating. It’s a lot safer to look at than the man at my side.

“Hey,” he says, his voice so soft I barely hear him over the constant drone of the engines. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh,” I mumble, nodding and holding my breath. But the back of my throat aches with unshed emotion.

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