Chapter 4 Easton
EASTON
“No. No. No. This can’t be happening. Out of all days. Seriously?” a feminine voice projects around me.
With only an hour till boarding, most passengers are either on their phones or silenced by headphones. All except the petite woman to my right, who doesn’t give a damn about the peace she’s interrupting.
Traveling with nothing but the suitcase I checked at the gate and my boarding pass, I’m one of the outcasts without anything to entertain me, meaning this intense woman holds my undivided attention.
“Stupid phone can’t hold a damn charge!” Her voice escalates, echoing throughout the airport.
It’s then that I notice her shoulders slump as she rests her head on the pillar in front of her.
She’s a short distance away from me, but close enough that I don’t miss the catching of her breath as she works to calm herself down.
I also don’t miss the giant brown stain on her gray sweatpants.
What the…
I really hope that’s not shit.
She beats her fist against the wall, shakes wracking through her small frame.
I can’t look away as she slides down the pillar, collapsing to the floor with very little grace.
Something about her behavior comforts me.
Maybe it’s because the emotions she makes no effort to hide are the same ones I chose to bury.
She’s frustrated. Lost. Overstimulated. Exhausted.
Everything I am, too. And blame it on my overwhelming need to fix people, but I’m up on my feet and headed in her direction before I can talk myself out of it.
How hypocritical is it of me to neglect caring for myself, but find it nearly impossible not to assist a stranger in need?
Deciding to meet her where she’s at, I slide down the pillar beside her and stay silent. Not sure if this is creepy or screams red flag, but we’re about to find out.
The moment my bottom connects with the cold tile, her whisper halts, and I sense her attention shifting toward me. But I don’t move a muscle and just sit there, choosing to let her feel the company I attempt to give her.
“Fiancé leave you at the altar or somethin’?”
I must have “Just fled my Nashville destination wedding” written across my face.
My stomach drops. “Come again?” I mumble, still avoiding eye contact. I don’t want to know this woman. I’ve got my own shit to deal with. But I can’t fucking help myself, especially since no one else has made an effort to lend a hand.
She’s clearly having a rough day, and I’m not gonna leave her high and dry.
“You look like you walked through a drive-thru car wash in a suit. Clearly missing the bug scrub.”
I glance down at myself, taking in the half-made-up tie I ripped off in the car ride here, giving up when the knot wouldn’t loosen.
Followed by the white button-down shirt beneath my mangled suit jacket that’s now half unbuttoned.
All I remember is plopping onto the hotel bed and passing the fuck out. Nothing before and nothing after.
The second the car pulled away from the vineyard, I felt like I was going to suffocate, ripping at anything I could find to catch my breath.
Buttons popped off, fabric tore, and I didn’t spare it another glance.
I guess I never made it to actually removing any of it fully.
Everything felt like too much. Too close. Too tight. Too raw.
I know without looking that my hair looks just as bad. The past twenty-four hours have felt like a blur. I’ll be happy to take a shower later tonight.
“Not quite,” I murmur, choosing now to hand over the thing she needs.
“What’s this?” Delicate fingers reach for the phone in my hand as we refuse to greet each other.
“Never seen a phone before?” I ask. “I heard you. I don’t have my charger on me, but you can use my phone.”
Let’s hope she’s not in the mood to snoop, or she’ll come across much more than just my call log. I already saw my sister Palmer’s name flash across the screen twice since getting to the airport.
I anticipated a thank you or something to show some type of appreciation for my kindness. But I definitely didn’t expect a build-up of uncontrollable laughter.
She’s laughing. Hysterically, and uncontrollably laughing.
“Oh, this is great…just great. I’m so pathetic, it’s comical.”
“I was just trying to help. But you know, you really shouldn’t talk about yourself like th—” I’m stopped short as I turn to face her.
And I know right away that was a bad move.
Because fuck, she’s stunning. Our distance before did her beauty no justice.
Bright blonde hair that reaches just above her shoulders in messy waves.
She’s even got these mini white flowers somehow woven into the small braids by the front of her face.
Her eyes are unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
Baby blue with hues of pearl and iridescent throughout. They’re so fucking bright.
Immediately wanting to rewind time, I avert my eyes, finding the nearest object to fixate on and repeat myself. “You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that. You might just become it someday.”
She huffs. “Comforting. Thanks.” A long pause passes between us, me waiting for her to make her phone call so I can be on my way. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a really shitty day, and it seems to only be getting shittier,” she tells me honestly.
Well, I wasn’t expecting that.
“Worse than your phone dying? Sounds tragic.”
Her full laugh catches me off guard. “How does getting fired sound? And falling into a massive puddle of mud? And my flight getting canceled? I can keep going if you’d like.”
“Shit,” I sigh. “Yeah, that beats it. Sorry.” I know there’s nothing I can say to make her feel better, because, well, that is pretty shitty.
I shake my head sympathetically. “Look, I wasn’t trying to be weird or creepy. Just thought I could help. My flight boards in”—I check my watch—“fifty-five minutes. Hopefully that gives you enough time to make those phone calls.”
“You sure?”
I nod and decide to give her some space. I stand with my hands in my pockets and peer down at her seated frame. “I’ll be right over there.” I point to the chair I just vacated. “Take your time.”
Bright white teeth smile up at me. “Thanks.”
I change my mind. Not a bad decision at all.