Chapter Five
CHAPTER FIVE
Oscar
As I passed through security at Heathrow, I couldn’t shake the sickening dread that was churning in my stomach. It was too late to turn back now, but with every step I took towards this ill-advised adventure, I felt acid burning my throat.
It had been two weeks since my disastrous lunch with Ilias, and although he’d accepted my apology for acting like a wanker, I still felt guilty for what I’d said.
If Eli, Finn, or Lewis had heard me, they’d have chewed me out without a second thought. My brothers were very serious about sexual freedom and consent, and none of them would have been impressed by my behaviour.
I still didn’t know why I’d said it. I’d tried to rationalise it by telling myself I’d just been looking out for our arrangement, but even to me that sounded like bullshit. Every way I tried to frame it just made me sound like a selfish twat, which, when I sat down and thought about it, I realised I was.
But that still didn’t explain why I’d said it.
The only thing I’d come up with was that I was jealous, but I’d dismissed that immediately. I wasn’t jealous of Ilias giving other men attention. I just… didn’t want him to do it in front of me. That was as far as I’d gone down that line of thought before I’d squashed it.
Despite my apology, I was surprised Ilias had still agreed to this. The out had been right there, but he hadn’t taken it. It was another thing I couldn’t explain. We’d talked every few days since, but it all felt superficial—just exchanging information for the trip and the barest pleasantries about our days. I almost missed Ilias’s ridiculous flirting.
Collecting my belongings from security, I headed towards departures, checking my phone to see if Ilias had arrived yet. We’d agreed to meet there two hours before our flight, but so far I hadn’t heard from him. The concourse was packed, and I turned my gaze across the crowd, hoping I might be able to catch a glimpse of him.
“Hello, darling,” Ilias said as he slid out of the crowd, walking up to me and pressing a kiss to my cheek. My heart skipped as I felt the brush of his lips against my skin, and a waft of soft cologne filled my senses. He smelt like vanilla and peaches. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Er, no.” I swallowed and shook my head. “There was just a bit of a queue to get through security.”
“I think I got lucky because they opened a new lane just as I got there so I sailed straight through.” Ilias shot me another of his brilliant smiles. The ones that made my stomach twist and my heart race.
He was wearing a black t-shirt with a stylish-looking jacket over the top that perfectly complimented his olive skin along with a loose pair of caramel-coloured trousers that looked ridiculously comfortable, and he had a fashionable carry-on bag slung over his shoulder. I’d never managed to look that stylish while travelling, but Ilias made it look effortless.
“Good timing, then,” I said. “Do you want to get a drink or something? I don’t think we’ll get a gate for a bit.”
“I don’t suppose your business expenses will stretch to the champagne bar?” Ilias asked, but it was easy to tell he was teasing. I grinned.
“Sorry, you’re on your own there. But I can get you a coffee if you’ll accept that?”
“I suppose.” He winked at me, then turned and headed towards the bustling Starbucks on the far side of the room. I followed him quickly, but every step felt like I was walking across uneven ground. I’d been expecting awkwardness or bristling politeness, not this. It was like nothing had happened.
Maybe Ilias had really meant it when he’d said he’d forgiven me.
We grabbed two coffees and found somewhere to sit and chat for an hour before we were summoned to our gate on the other side of the terminal. The flight was an afternoon one, and it would take just under eleven hours to reach San Francisco. Then we’d have two hours to hotfoot it through immigration, collect and recheck our bags—since apparently the airline wasn’t going to do that for us—and get to our second flight, which would land us at Kona International Airport on the Big Island at about ten at night local time.
It would be nearly nineteen hours of travel in total, and that was without any delays. It wasn’t the longest journey I’d ever taken, but it was still going to be rough.
My jetlag had gotten better over the years, mostly because I’d abused my internal clock to the point where it just accepted sleep as sleep and meals as meals, but I did my best to help it where I could. I just hoped there was nothing too arduous scheduled for our first day to give me time to relax and adjust to the change in time zone before I had to start working.
“I assume we’re in cattle class,” Ilias joked as we sat by the gate. He was peering through the little glass divider at the first-class lounge, watching as people sipped cocktails and expensive coffee in their little bubble of luxury.
“Sorry, yes. Vanessa usually tries to get us good seats though. But if you’ve got an issue, I’m sure you can take it up with Madelyn.”
“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious.” Ilias gave me a deadpan smile. “I’d rather tell my grandma she uses too much salt in her cooking, and that her pot roast is bland and dry.” He shuddered. “It would probably be less painful.”
I laughed. “Cattle class it is then.”
“By the way,” Ilias said, his deadpan expression morphing into a knowing smirk. “You are now sworn to secrecy about my grandma’s cooking. That’s a family secret.”
“Am I going to meet your grandma, then?”
“Probably not, but even so, I have to make sure you’re not going to rat me out.”
“Is it that bad?” I asked, and Ilias nodded.
“Yeah, it is. But you can’t tell her that because she’s defensive about her cooking. I think it’s because Nonna is Italian, and her cooking is amazing, and my grandma gets jealous, even though her cookies are the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I think it’s the amount of butter in them.” He sighed. “My family is this huge cross-continental mash-up—Greek, Italian, American, British, and even a little Irish, although I’d never say that to an Irish person because nobody in my family has actually been to Ireland in a hundred years. Anyway, they’re loud, and interfering, and everyone has an opinion and thinks they’re right. Facebook was the worst thing ever invented because it allowed them to stalk each other across the world. It was why I deleted it two years ago. I got sick of my every move being watched.”
“Don’t they follow you on Twitter?”
“Only a few of them,” Ilias said. “Mostly because the rest of them don’t know it exists.”
I chuckled. My family was nosy, but they weren’t that bad all things considered and we’d always been given space to be ourselves. We had a lively family group chat, but that had arisen out of a desire to communicate, not force or necessity.
“That sounds intense.”
“It is.” Ilias shrugged and stretched. “But it is what it is. I avoid the drama as much as possible, but somehow it always finds me. At least being away for the week will mean I get some peace and quiet.”
Part of me wanted to press because I was curious, but something in the corner of my eye was drawing my attention. We should have been boarding by now, but there was no sign of any staff. When we’d first arrived at the gate, there hadn’t been a plane in front of us, but that hadn’t registered as a problem because often we were boarded through one gate and shuttled out to a plane elsewhere. But now there was a sinking feeling in my stomach.
“Something’s wrong,” I said. “We should be boarding right now.”
Ilias checked his watch, which looked like one of those beautiful, top-of-the-line smart watches, and frowned. “Yeah we should. But there wasn’t anything about delays on the boards or the flight information. I watched it all last night.”
“Me too.” I looked around, trying to see someone I could ask. We couldn’t afford to be delayed for long, otherwise we were going to miss our connection.
There still weren’t any staff around, and when I checked the flight information on my phone, there was nothing listed. All we could do was wait and see what happened. It still irked me, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I hated delays, even though they were part and parcel of my job.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said a muffled voice over the tannoy, and I noticed a man wearing an airline uniform standing behind a nearby desk. “We apologise for the delay. Due to inclement weather, the incoming flight has been delayed in its arrival and will be landing shortly. Once the plane has been cleaned and refuelled, we will be able to depart. Once again we apologise for the inconvenience.”
As he spoke, the enormous nose of an Airbus appeared behind him as if it had been waiting for the right moment. At least now we had a plane, which was something.
“Bollocks,” Ilias muttered under his breath. “That sucks. How long do you reckon it’ll take to get it sorted?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe an hour?” I glanced at my phone and realised our departure time was about to come and go with us still stuck in the lounge. “Unless there’s some sort of miracle and they can get the flight time down, we’re going to miss our connection.”
“Fuck!” Ilias sighed. “They’ll have to put us on another flight though, so that’s something.”
“Yeah.” The sinking feeling in my stomach was getting heavier. “I’m going to call Marcus and let him know.”
Since it was a Monday afternoon, I knew he’d still be in the office, and although he couldn’t do anything, it was better to keep him informed. Plus, he could get Vanessa to let the hotel know we probably weren’t going to get there tonight.
Marcus swore when I told him. “Fuck’s sake! Thanks for letting me know. Keep me posted. I’ll let Vanessa know, and she can work her magic with the airline.”
“Cheers, I appreciate it.” I wasn’t sure exactly what magic Vanessa was going to work, but thirty minutes later, when we were still sitting in the departure lounge watching the plane be refuelled, an email popped up on my phone with a hotel booking for tonight in San Francisco and details for a new flight to Kona tomorrow morning.
It came with a cheerful note from Vanessa telling me not to worry about the delay, that these things happened and everything was sorted and reminding me to keep all my paperwork and receipts for later. I wasn’t sure what had happened behind the scenes, but I was very grateful that it had.
Ilias noticed me tapping out a response. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just an email from Vanessa.”
“What about?” He sounded a little snarky, and I realised he’d been getting progressively quieter and snappier over the past hour. Despite his calm exterior, it seemed the delay was getting to him too.
“The flight and tonight,” I said as I relayed all the details. “It’s a bit of a pain, but it’s not too bad. Honestly, Vanessa is a lifesaver. I’ve heard about her doing this for a couple of other people, but I’ve never had a delay this bad.”
“This is not a bad delay,” Ilias grumbled. “Sleeping overnight in the airport is a bad delay. This is easy in comparison. You just had to make one call and someone fixed everything.”
“Hey,” I said, trying not to give in to the urge to snap back. “Don’t take your frustration out on me.”
“Tough. You’re my boyfriend for the week. You have to listen to me grumble.”
“If you were my boyfriend, I’d tell you to shut up,” I muttered. I felt Ilias’s eyes boring into the side of my head. He said something quietly that I didn’t catch, but when I turned to him to tell him to repeat it, an announcement came over the tannoy that we would be starting to board soon.
“Fucking finally,” Ilias said. “And don’t tell me to shut up. I’m allowed to be frustrated with this fuck up just like you are.”
“You don’t have to take it out on me though.”
“Believe me, I’m not.”
“Why are you being an asshole?”
“Has it occurred to you that I’m stressed?” Ilias asked as he raised his eyebrows and shot me a pointed glare. “Even though you’ve said it’s ‘all sorted’, I’m not used to that shit. I’m trying to tell myself that I don’t have to worry about missing my connection or trying to find an airline rep to sort out a new flight and maybe somewhere to sleep or some food vouchers. You know what freelance life is like. It’s endless worrying about money and other shit. So don’t get arsey with me just because you now have a cushy job that sorts that shit for you.”
He went to grab his bag to storm off but I grabbed his wrist, holding it tightly. A shock zipped across my skin and made my breath catch.
“Ouch,” Ilias said. “Fucking static.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, not letting go of him. “I should have considered that. I’ve only been in this job nine months, and I guess I’ve already forgotten all the shit that comes with freelancing.”
“Forgotten or suppressed?”
“Probably both.”
Ilias let out a dry laugh. “I’m not surprised. I’m sorry too. I’m being a dick. I just hate shit like this.” He gestured with one hand. “But thanks for sorting it.”
“I did fuck all. If it wasn’t for Vanessa, I’d be panicking too.”
“I’ll remind you to get her a present or something.”
“She likes fridge magnets.” I smiled as I remembered her talking to me about it once when another journalist, Ailette, had brought her one back from New Orleans. “She puts them on the mini-fridge in the admin office.”
“That’s really sweet,” Ilias said. “We’ll have to find her a nice one.”
He was smiling now, and seeing it made something warm spread across my chest. It felt… better. But I didn’t have time to think about it because airline staff had started to arrive in the lounge, and it wasn’t long before we were finally queueing up to board.
As usual, Vanessa had gotten us good seats—a little pair nearer the back but not so close to the toilets or the staff area that we’d be disturbed—and we settled in for the flight, which finally departed nearly three hours later than scheduled.
Ilias and I both had headphones, so we alternated quiet conversation with films and random episodes of TV until we were fed, and after that Ilias produced an enormous hoodie out of his carry-on to pull over his t-shirt. It swamped him, but in a cute way rather than a ridiculous way, and the fact that I’d noticed that pulled at something inside me.
It didn’t take long for Ilias to drift off, but I couldn’t sleep. I felt like I was in over my head and in danger of drowning. I had no idea what I was doing, and it scared me. This was just supposed to be a professional arrangement—pretend to date for the week or at least long enough to fool Marcus and Madelyn, and then go back to being…
What would we be?
I supposed it would be friends. We’d started as acquaintances, but since we’d grown closer already, it would be impossible to go back to that. Still, I liked the idea of us ending up as friends. It would be nice to know someone in the same boat who understood what this life was like and why certain things were impossible.
Settling back into my seat to watch another film, I felt something brush against my shoulder. I glanced over and realised Ilias had shifted his position so his head was lolling to the side. I smiled to myself because he looked sweet with his long dark eyelashes brushing his cheeks and his soft, relaxed mouth. This close, I could see a smattering of freckles across his nose.
As I watched, he shifted again to rest his head on my shoulder, one hand finding my arm. I froze, not sure if I should move him or not. Would it be awkward for him if he woke up and realised he’d been sleeping against me?
Ilias let out a snuffly little snore, and his grip tightened on my arm. He still smelt like vanilla and peaches. I decided to let him sleep. There was a good chance he’d move again before he woke up.
And it wasn’t like I had to tell him he’d been cuddling me.
It was seven thirty that evening when we landed in San Francisco and dragged ourselves off the plane, our connection well and truly missed.
As predicted, the queue to get through immigration was long and slow moving, and even though both Ilias and I had Global Entry, it still took a couple of hours to get through and collect our luggage. I felt awful for the smattering of other passengers who’d also missed connecting flights and now had to hang around in search of someone to speak to.
I was getting Vanessa a fridge magnet and a box of cupcakes.
Luckily, the hotel we’d been booked into was barely a five-minute taxi ride away, and it had a small restaurant. Ilias offered no protestations when I shoved us both into a taxi and headed straight for the hotel, which was simple but clean and functional with friendly staff who checked us in quickly and offered to let the restaurant know we’d be straight down after we’d dumped our bags. I accepted their offer, even if I didn’t really feel hungry. I knew I needed to eat something, and doing something mundane like sitting in the restaurant would help me adjust.
“What floor?” Ilias asked as he climbed into the lift in front of me, wheeling his giant suitcase in front of him. He seemed less stressed now that we’d arrived, and that pleased me.
“Six.” I stepped in behind him as Ilias pressed the button. “Room 622. Are you okay with getting some food after we’ve put everything down? I realise I answered for both of us when they asked.”
Ilias nodded and shot me a wry smile. “Taking charge already? How naughty. Usually I’d ask for dinner first, then I’d make you work for it. I’m not that kind of man.” I rolled my eyes, and Ilias snorted.
“Actually, I’m starving, so if you hadn’t suggested dinner, I’d have just gone without you. Do you think they’ll have burgers? I feel like I deserve something absolutely decadent after today.”
The lift came to a shuddering stop, announcing our arrival on the sixth floor, and the door slid open. “I’m sure they will,” I said, climbing out of the lift with my case and looking around to see where we needed to go. “Or they’ll have something similar.”
“You can’t do ‘something similar’ to a burger. It’s a burger or it’s not.”
“I meant they’ll have something just as heavy like mac and cheese or pizza.”
“That’s definitely not the same,” Ilias said teasingly as we followed the green hotel carpet to our destination. His nap on the plane seemed to have left him full of energy while I felt ready to drop. I wasn’t sure which of us had made the right choice. “Here we are.”
Ilias had stopped in front of the nondescript black door and was pointing at the little number on the plaque next to it. He plucked the key card from my fingers and stuck it into the reader, waiting for it to beep and flash green before he opened the door and strolled inside.
“Oooh, this is nice,” he said, looking over his shoulder at me. “Left or right?”
“What?” I frowned. Ilias snorted. I was clearly missing something.
“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?”
“It’s a double?” It was a very naive question brought on by my stupefied state, and as soon as I’d said it, I knew I’d made a mistake. Of course there was only one bed. We were supposed to be dating.
“Actually, I think it’s more like a king,” Ilias said with a wide grin as I walked over to stand next to him, staring at the large bed in the middle of the room that was made up with crisp white sheets and a green runner with the hotel’s name across the bottom of the duvet. “Don’t worry, we can still snuggle.”
“I…” I was going to tell him I was already expecting that after the plane, but instead, I just said, “I’ll take the left if that’s okay.”
“Perfect.” Ilias tossed his carry-on onto his side of the bed. “I’m just going to freshen up, then we can go and get food.”
“Sounds good,” I said, not bothering to watch Ilias head for the bathroom. I just stood there, staring at the bed, trying not to think about what it meant.