Chapter 2
Chapter Two
They left Seattle on Wednesday afternoon, a little later in the day than planned, but Milo nearly had to be dragged away because he kept finding “one more thing” to do before he felt confident in leaving.
When they finally took off, Slater was more than ready to get them in the air. Meanwhile, poor Evie had been nervous about the whole thing, but in the cutest way. When they picked her up this morning, she apologized profusely for her three suitcases.
Three.
And not three large ones, but a complete set—small, medium, and large.
“Stop apologizing,” he’d told her. “You’re going to be gone for a month. I’m sure there’s more you could have packed with you.”
“I know, but then I reasoned that I could go shopping if there was anything I couldn’t live without.”
“Exactly.”
That was three hours ago and every time he caught sight of her—which he did a lot because he decided to keep the door between the cockpit and main cabin open—he could still see that she wasn’t fully comfortable with the whole situation yet.
Although, that could have more to do with Milo and Nora and the fact that they were practically all over each other—like they wanted to join the mile-high club and seemed to forget that Evie was sitting right there beside them.
He’d distracted them multiple times by reminding them of where all the food and drinks were and rambling random facts about flying, but as soon as he was done speaking, they were back to cooing at each other.
Whatever.
At some point, Evie took out a book and moved up a few rows—not that there were many to choose from—but she was clearly trying to put some distance between them.
Poor kid.
Slater had settled into the easy rhythm of cruising altitude when there was a light knock on the cockpit door.
He didn’t need to turn around to know it was Evie.
He’d already clocked Milo and Nora’s escalating situation in the rearview mirror—hands everywhere, foreheads pressed together, that whisper-laugh cadence that meant they’d forgotten the existence of other humans entirely. It was escalating by the second.
“Hey,” Evie said gently, hovering in the doorway. “Is it okay if I hide up here for a little while? I love them, but they’re… a lot.”
He smiled before he could stop himself. “You’re safe here. Come on in.”
She gently closed the door and slipped into the co-pilot seat with practiced politeness, almost as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to take up space. Slater noticed that about her—how she always seemed to apologize for existing, even when she absolutely didn’t need to.
He had no doubt that with the door closed, Milo and Nora were going to do what they’d been not so discreetly trying to do.
Silence settled back in, punctuated only by the hum of the engines and the soft chatter of instruments. Slater glanced sideways at Evie. She was smiling to herself, her gaze fixed on the stretch of sky ahead of them, the city lights of Seattle already far behind.
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your…um…flying? Piloting? Or maybe your very serious pilot business?”
“This is the least exciting part,” he said. “It’s basically professional sitting.”
That earned him a quiet laugh. He liked the sound but could tell she hadn’t decided whether she was allowed to enjoy herself yet.
They flew like that for a moment, companionable and easy. Slater glanced at the instruments and made a slight course correction before nodding toward the window. “Have you ever been up here before?”
“No,” she admitted. “I kind of love it, though. I can see everything.”
“Careful,” he said lightly. “You’re going to make me think you’re a thrill-seeker.”
She snorted. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Because I’ve got an entire list of things I was planning to corrupt you with once we get back to the resort.”
That got her attention. She turned toward him, curious despite herself. “Such as?”
“Hiking the north trail. The long one. Parasailing over the lake. Kayaking at sunrise. Or maybe sunset.” He paused, watching her expression carefully. “Nothing wild. Just… outside the comfort zone a little.”
Her smile shifted, softened. It wasn’t quite gone, but maybe just quieter and more thoughtful.
“Everyone thinks they know my comfort zone, but they don’t,” she said quietly. “Like Tucker. I hate the way he described me. Uptight.”
The word landed between them, and he could tell how much it bothered her. Personally, he never thought of her that way, but right now with her rigid posture, he could see where others might.
“That’s on him, not you,” Slater said quickly. “I’m just saying…sometimes people decide who you are without actually asking.”
She was quiet for a few seconds. Then she surprised him.
“I actually love the outdoors,” she said. “I just… don’t talk about it much.”
Slater blinked. “Really?”
“Really.” She tucked one leg under herself, suddenly more relaxed. “I was a varsity volleyball player in high school. College, too, for a bit.”
He turned fully toward her now. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Middle hitter. Very intense ponytail phase.” She grinned. “I lived at the gym. Practices, weights, conditioning. It was my entire personality.”
That did it. He laughed, a real one. “Okay, I did not see that coming.”
“Everyone says that,” she said. “I think I give off… book club energy.”
“You absolutely do not,” he said, and then, softer, “You give off capable.”
Her cheeks warmed at that, but she didn’t look away.
“And,” she added, like she’d been saving it, “I still take spin classes. Three times a week.”
Slater stared. “Impressive.”
“Mm-hmm. I could absolutely destroy you on a bike.”
“Oh, this is devastating news.”
She laughed, brighter now, shoulders loosening. “So if you think hiking and parasailing are going to scare me…”
“I stand corrected,” he said. “Clearly I’ve been underestimating you.”
“Everyone does.”
The way she said it wasn’t bitter, just honest. And somehow, that made him want to reach for her hand—even though he didn’t.
“Well,” he said instead, turning back to the controls, “in that case, I’m upgrading the itinerary. You can lead the hike.”
She pretended to consider it. “Only if you promise not to hover because you think I’m going to trip or something. You know, like I hear you all do with Milo.”
“To be fair, we had our reasons, and we were right.” Turning his head slightly, he added, “I’m surprised he shared that with you.”
“Oh, he didn’t at first. Nora told me the story when she first came to Seattle and we had lunch together. Then I casually mentioned it to Milo, and he confirmed it.” She let out a soft sigh. “It’s nice how you all look out for each other.”
“We’ve been friends for a long time. It’s what you do.”
“Yeah, well…I’m sturdier than I look, so don’t think you’re going to have to baby me.”
“No promises.”
She smiled, easy and genuine, and for the first time since he’d known her, Slater thought: She’s not reserved. She’s just been waiting for someone who sees her clearly enough to let her be more.
And in that moment, he silently vowed that he wasn’t going to treat her with kid gloves. He would let her lead, set the pace, and whatever else it was she needed to do to realize how awesome she is.
“Can I ask you something, Slater?”
“Sure.”
Whatever it was she was planning on asking, she seemed to be second-guessing herself. They typically had no problem talking to each other, but the topic was always light, so he had a feeling maybe this wasn’t. “Do you ever let what other people think of you get you down?”
He glanced over at her, brows furrowed. “That’s a little deep, don’t you think?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I guess you and I never talk about stuff like that.”
Now it was her turn to frown. “If you’re not comfortable, I can go back out there and read my book.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t comfortable, I’m just saying it’s a little different from our usual thing.”
“Yeah, well…I’m in a contemplative mood and honestly, I don’t want to go back out to the cabin. I’m afraid of what I’ll be interrupting.”
He laughed. “Yeah, when you’re actually ready, I’ll announce it over the speaker so they can finish whatever it is they’re doing and get decent.”
She laughed. “Thanks.”
“But back to your question,” he said, his tone growing serious. “Sometimes I do.”
“Really?”
He nodded. Evie was safe; he knew that. Sharing stuff with her? He had a feeling she’d take the information to the grave.
“I recently had an awkward conversation with Milo,” he began, and then hesitated. “My father is kind of a famous athlete. Baseball. They’re retiring his jersey or something at the end of next month. There’s going to be a big ceremony and they’re dedicating an entire day to him.”
“Wow! That’s impressive!” She was smiling but must have caught on to the fact that he wasn’t. “Or maybe it’s not.”
“If I detach myself a bit, then yes, it’s impressive.
If he were just another baseball player, I’d say it was a tremendous accomplishment and good for them.
But it’s my dad, and he’s the worst, and I don’t think he deserves any accolades.
” He shrugged. “I don’t think shitty people should be rewarded. ”
All she did was nod.
“But that’s a whole other story. Anyway, Milo asked if I was going to go to the ceremony, and I said no, and I could…I could just tell he was disappointed. And…it bothered me.”
“Did you say anything to him?”
Another shrug. “I got defensive, but that’s my go-to response when anyone mentions my dad. And I don’t know why that particular conversation bothered me so much, but it did. The guys all know not to bring that part of my life up, but for some reason, Milo did.”