Chapter 3
3
BENJAMIN
After all the rush, the plane sat on the tarmac for ten minutes while we waited for someone in first class to board. They took their sweet time, too. From my aisle seat, I couldn't see the person who finally boarded over the beta flight attendant as he walked past me.
I almost felt bad for the jerk who had kept us waiting when the beta said, "Sorry, Mr. McKeeler. We couldn't get your bags off the flight to Phoenix. You can pick them up tomorrow at the Orange County airport."
Wait. Someone else was headed to Orange County with me? It wasn't unusual for folks between San Diego and Los Angeles to use the smaller airport, but I had two layovers before then. Why would anyone else have wanted those flights?
Then, the beta flight attendant made his way to me. "Mr. Satler, you've been bumped to first class."
"I'm sorry, what?" I must have misheard.
"Do you need me to grab a bag for you?"
"No." I pulled my carry-on from beneath the seat in front of me. I glanced at the two women in my row, hoping they could explain the strange turn of events. They only smiled back at me, and the one closest to me waved her arms in a shooing motion. "Maybe it's an admirer," she said.
Fuck, I hoped not. I didn't need an alpha pining for me on top of everything else.
I clutched my bag to my chest and followed the flight attendant to the cushy seat beyond the curtain.
I groaned when I saw him. Connor. The guy who had helped me through the airport. The giant blond alpha with huge blue eyes and a sweet dimpled smile that would make most omegas swoon.
Not this omega. "What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Stalking you." He didn't even try to deny it.
The attendant took my bag from me and tucked it into the overhead bin. I felt naked without it. I tugged at my suit jacket and sank into the empty seat with a sigh.
"Can't you smell it?"
This alpha did not know how to take no for an answer. I could tell from his wide-open eyes and expectant smile.
Well, fuck him. I was full of, "No."
"No?" He frowned. Then he sniffed at his armpits. With a tug, he pulled off his tie, unbuttoned his dress shirt until I could see a tuft of light blond chest hair in the V opening, and then removed his jacket. He draped it over the fanny pack beneath the seat before him.
Then he practically shoved his armpit in my face. "How about now?"
I coughed and tried to move away from him, but I'd already fastened my seatbelt for takeoff.
"Get away from me," I growled.
"But we're … you really can't smell it?"
From the moment I'd walked through a cloud of flowery fragrance in coach, my sinuses had been acting up. Through my stuffy nose, Connor smelled like an alpha. I didn't know what he wanted me to say, so I focused on what I could see. He had a swipe of mustard across his massive pec. There were a few unidentifiable crumbs near the opening of his breast pocket. And the most offensive thing about him was my first line of attack. "Maybe if you shove your fanny pack in my face, I'll be able to smell it. It sits closer to your balls, after all."
He didn't miss a beat. He leaned over and picked it up. "You think so?" Instead of shoving it in my face, he offered it to me with a shrug.
"No, I don't think so! Why do you even have that thing?"
"It's my carry-on," he said.
Damn. And I thought I traveled light. Granted, I didn't check a bag, and his was on its way to Phoenix.
"Sir, please secure your bag under the seat until the seatbelt sign is turned off." The flight attendant crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at both of us.
"Sniff it," he whispered. As he leaned forward, he shoved it in my face.
It was a nicer bag than I'd first thought. Black leather. Well sewn with a side flap like a messenger bag. I sniffed, but all I could smell was leather with a hint of alpha.
He frowned when I shrugged and leaned back. The first-class seat felt more like a recliner. I liked it a little too much. I could sleep in a chair like this. I needed it after a rough week of paper-thin hotel walls.
This plane had the best pillows. Nice, squishy, warm pillows.
Warm. Pillows.
I opened my eyes to find a powder-blue cushion with a swirl of yellow in my line of sight. Mustard yellow. Beneath the stain, there was now a darker blue drool spot.
I sat up with a yelp. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!"
"For what?" Connor blinked at me. "You looked so peaceful." He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. "Cute."
"I am not cute."
"That look right there? So cute."
My hands ached from the futile effort of bunching them into fists. I couldn't punch an alpha on a plane. I'd end up on the no-fly list.
"Why are you going to Orange County?" I asked instead.
"It was as close to Barclay Foods as I could get." He smirked. "Why, are you also flying to Orange County via Atlanta and Denver?"
"You didn't already know?"
He shook his head. "All flights to LA were full."
"Yeah. I booked late." I sighed and relaxed against my seat, still too close to his gigantic shoulder. How was he so big?
"The seatbelt light went off a while ago," he said. "If you want to get more comfortable."
I didn't like the hopeful glance he gave me. Thanks to my vivid imagination, I pictured him pulling me into his lap the moment I had the seatbelt undone. "I don't."
"Suit yourself." He sighed and leaned his head against the window. His whole body shifted away from me, leaving me feeling … cold. He'd been so warm, and I'd enjoyed it. I never enjoyed being this close to an alpha. I'd never even slept with an alpha, always too afraid they would follow me home and try to make me their mate for life.
Like this guy. Fuck.
When the seatbelt light flashed on again as we neared Atlanta, the beta flight attendant's voice came through the plane's speakers. "When we reach Atlanta, please check the arrivals and departures board. The storm out west has delayed flights across the country. If your plane hasn't come in yet, there's a good chance it won't leave on time. Please be patient with your gate and airline agents if you need to reschedule flights for tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" I muttered. "I have to work tomorrow to make up for today. This can't be happening."
"You're lucky," Connor said. "We're taking this plane to Denver."
How had I not noticed I was on the same plane from Atlanta to Denver? I pulled up the flight app to confirm. Yes, we would be on this flight to Denver, if it ever left Atlanta.
When the plane landed, I was overwhelmed by allergies. Someone must have reapplied the cologne with hay fever in it. I sneezed into my elbow as the flight attendant pulled my bag from the overhead compartment. I didn't blame him for steering clear of me after that.
"Enjoy our brief stop in Atlanta," he said to Connor with a lilt to his voice. That fucker was flirting.
I did not care. Nope. Not one bit. So why were the hairs standing up at my nape and my hands balled into fists again all by themselves?
I unclenched my fists and smoothed my suit before grabbing my bag handle with both hands and carrying it in front of me like a shield. I nodded to our pilots and exited the plane, not caring if Connor was coming with me or not.
"Where are you taking your bag?" he asked me as we walked through the balmy jet bridge to the terminal.
"To the restroom. And no, you can't come with me."
"I can watch it for you, if you want."
I'd never had an alpha offer to watch my bag before. It was … sweet.
No. Not sweet. Definitely not sweet.
"I need to pee and grab my winter coat. It'll be faster if I multi-task." I didn't know why I was telling him all this, but I didn't want him to think I was being a dick for dick's sake. Certainly not for his dick.
He walked with me to the bathroom, and then he leaned against the wall near the doorway. Wow, what a lean.
I hadn't been able to get a good look at him on the plane, and before that I'd been too angry. Now, I breathed in through my mouth, thanks to my plugged nose, and took him in. He was taller than my alpha pops and wider in the shoulders than my alpha brothers. When people said, "built like a brick shithouse," he must have been what they meant.
He had kind blue eyes and a white streak in his blond hair at one temple. The streak could mean he was older than I thought, but his open face and sweet expression made me think he was young. Too young.
"How old are you?" I demanded.
"Thirty."
"Bullshit." I was twenty-nine. There was no way he still looked this sweet and innocent at thirty, even as an alpha. Surely, the world would have beaten him down at least once by now.
"I'll show you my driver's license when we get back on the plane." His professional tone made him sound like a bodyguard, but I could take care of myself.
I rolled my bag into the first available stall and — nope. Not that one. The next one was just as dirty. Finally, the third stall had a wet floor but was clean enough otherwise.
"Here." Connor handed me a wet wipe over the top of the locked door.
After the horrors I'd seen in the other stalls, I snatched it up. "Thanks."
Connor's hand was still hovering above the door when I turned around, the used wipe balled in my hand. "What are you doing?"
"I'll throw it away."
There was no trash bin in the stall, and I didn't want to litter. I handed it over.
Then, I dropped trou and plopped down, so I could pee and sort through my bag simultaneously. My coat took up half the space in my bag, so it was easy enough to yank free. In my haste, I also flung my favorite sweater right into a puddle.
"Ah!"
"Are you all right? Is everything all right?"
Connor sounded farther away but still in the restroom.
"I'm fine." I sighed as I surveyed the mess. "I dropped my shirt in a puddle, that's all."
"Why are you taking off your shirt?"
I laughed. The guy wouldn't leave me alone, but at least he was entertaining. "A different shirt, from my bag."
"I can wash it in the sink for you."
"That'd be great." There was no gap between the floor and the bottom of the door, so I tossed it over the top.
"Hey, man, nice sweater." I didn't recognize that voice.
"Ben? Someone just stole your sweater."
It was Benjamin, but I wasn't going to argue with Connor when he muttered, "be right back." I heard a clatter, like a dog running on tile, and a scream.
"Take it, take it!" I couldn't tell if that was the same voice as before, but when I exited the stall, I found Connor with my wet sweater tied around his waist. His naked-from-the-waist-down waist.
"Oops," he said.