Chapter 91
Tilda
Ethan looks at his watch.
“What time is it?”
“Seven minutes to noon.” He tips his head back and looks up at the bright blue sky. “Put your flannel on. It’s gonna be cold up there.”
Up there.
Stress swirls in my stomach as I untie the sleeves of Ethan’s flannel from around my waist.
I’ve been making a point to not think about our flight home. I’ve never loved flying. And now that the last flight I was on ended with a controlled emergency landing, I fear I may be developing a phobia. But now that we’re here—literally here—there’s no more avoiding it.
I start to pull one sleeve up my arm before I remember to take my backpack off.
“Let me help.” Ethan’s voice is steady as he takes the flannel from my grip. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I know.” My voice cracks, giving me away.
Ethan makes a deep sound in his throat as he helps me take my backpack off.
He sets the backpack at my feet. “Arm.”
I slide my arm through the sleeve as he holds the flannel up.
Ethan circles behind me to my other side. “Other arm.”
I try to start the buttons, but my hands have started trembling.
Warm fingers grip my chin, and I lift my eyes to Ethan’s. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I don’t mean to be scared.”
“It’s okay to be scared, Starlight.” Ethan leans in, pressing his lips lightly against mine. “But right now, you don’t have to be. I’ve got you.”
Starlight.
He seems to only call me that when he’s being sweet.
And I love it.
“Tell me you believe me.”
I force my shoulders to relax. “I believe you.”
Ethan nods, then drops his hands to the front of my flannel. But instead of buttoning it, he ties the bottom corners together, cinching it around my waist.
He steps back, taking in his handywork. And the edge of his mouth turns up. “Cute.”
I start to smile back.
But then I hear it.
The whomp, whomp of an approaching helicopter.