CHAPTER 28
Lila
I s this what it feels like to lose my mind?
Maybe rubbing his leg under the table with my foot was a step too far—no pun intended. But I feel like I’m on fire every time I’m in the same room with the one man I should never have fallen for, and I don’t know how to cope.
Despite the forward way in which I came on to him during dinner at my parents’ house a week ago, my confidence depletes once I calm down and realize getting involved with Reed could have very real career-ending consequences.
After all, until I graduate, I’m still a student at the university he works at. And even so, I will always be that one student he supervised during her internship . The rumors would follow us forever.
So, the week after the dinner with my parents, I keep my attraction for him locked away in the tiniest crevice of my heart, hoping it withers.
But then Reed picks up Ginny in his arms, and she licks his face.
And he helps the girls at the youth center with their bracelets even though his fingers are too big for the task.
And he plays racing cars with Ike in the common room.
Every time I’m confident my feelings are under control, Reed smiles at me or brushes my arm as he passes by or just stands near me. It’s torture.
My feelings for Reed finally take the back burner the day before the Youth Counseling Expo as I squirm in the too-small airplane seat and try not to think too hard about the dozen ways I could die in this tin can.
Reed places his backpack between his legs, which barely fit in the middle seat. “Nervous flier?”
The plane, rolling toward the runway, makes a squeaky sound I’m pretty confident it shouldn’t be making. My palms get sweatier. “Mmm.”
“I didn’t know you had flight anxiety.”
I keep my gaze trained out of the window; these might be my last moments looking at solid ground, so I might as well soak everything in.
Dramatic much?
“More like flight panic.” I shift on my seat again. “I hate airplanes.”
“Well, we can’t exactly road-trip to Chicago and get there on time now,” he says, his voice thoughtful. “You should’ve told me sooner.”
That makes me turn my head. The seats are so cramped up together, his face is mere inches away from mine. “What for? It’s not like you would have driven me fourteen hours to Chicago.”
“Of course I would have.”
My heart jumps. And this time, it has nothing to do with the plane.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I mutter. But the worst part is, I believe him.
The overhead announcement telling us we should prepare for takeoff interrupts whatever he’s going to say next.
For the millionth time, I check that my seat belt is fastened and count to ten in my head, a failed attempt to calm my anxiety. People always say airplanes are the safest mode of transport, but realistically, how likely am I to survive a plane crash? I mean, I can’t fly . However, if I were in a car crash, maybe I could limp away from the scene and get—
“Lila.”
“Mmm.”
“You’re hyperventilating.”
I’m not looking at him, but I can feel the hesitation to say more radiating off him as the plane aligns with the runway. These could be my last moments on earth, and I’m wasting them by being dramatic—how fitting.
“As a kid, I’d get anxious all the time when my parents had their screaming matches.”
That grabs my attention.
Since the night we kissed, Reed hasn’t brought up his past again. I didn’t want to pry in case he wasn’t ready to talk about it; maybe opening up to me had been a onetime thing. But he’s giving me an in now. He’s willingly talking about it.
All airplane noises disappear. I only hear Reed’s voice, see those dark eyes, breathe in his clean scent.
“Was it really bad?” I ask, my voice quiet.
There’s no one on the aisle seat, and the plane isn’t too crowded in the first place, so it feels like a private conversation.
“It was a nightmare.” His eyes don’t leave mine. “The first few times it happened I’d sneak out to see what was going on. My mom would throw glasses at my dad, shattering them against the wall. My dad would put his hands on my mom. I’ll spare you the details.”
I swallow. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. No child should.”
The plane moves. The ghost of his hand brushes mine.
“It’s in the past now.” But I can tell it still haunts him. His eyes can’t lie to me. “Do you want to know what I’d do to fall back asleep?”
My breath hitches as the plane starts accelerating down the runway. My fingers are on a mission to crush the armrest when Reed’s hand covers mine. Forgetting where I am for a blissful second, I watch him in silence as he flips my hand and laces his fingers with mine.
Thump, thump, thump.
“My dog, Daisy, would climb into bed with me, and I’d bury my face in her fur,” he rumbles. “Cuddling her soothed me enough to fall back asleep.”
My heart breaks just wondering what his parents might have done to his childhood dog, only to then blame it on him.
My smile is nervous but sincere. “I bet Daisy gave the best cuddles.”
“She did,” he confirms. “She isn’t here to calm your flight anxiety, but I am.”
My pulse quickens.
“Come here, angel.”
My body floats as the plane takes off. I tell myself that’s the only reason I don’t think twice as I lift the armrest between us and bury my face in his collarbone, shutting my eyes for all sorts of different reasons.
Because the plane could drop at any second.
Because I don’t ever want to let go of Reed.
Because I don’t know why he calls me angel, but my heart flutters every time he does.
Because I’ve been dying to be this close to him again since the night we kissed.
Reed holds me tightly as the plane speeds through the clouds. Right now, I don’t care who’s watching. If other passengers think I’m being dramatic, I’m not worried about it.
I’ve never felt safer than I do in Reed’s arms.
“You okay?” His breath tickles my ear. The hand that was around my shoulders moves to tangle in my hair. “I’m no Daisy, but I could hug you a little tighter if you want.”
I nod against his chest, and he brings me closer.
I don’t pull away until the seat belt lights go off, but then I instantly miss the warmth of his body against mine.
“Thank you,” I mumble, pretty sure that my cheeks are burning hot. “Daisy must have been a genius, because that helped a lot.”
His smile is devastating. “I’m glad. Let me know if my hugging services are required again during the flight.”
I blame my possibly impending death by plane crash for my next move. I cover his big palm, now resting on his thigh, with my much smaller one and lace my fingers with his. When he raises an eyebrow at me, I shrug. “My flight anxiety counts as an emergency. I’d normally text you, but…”
His nod is serious, following along. “Sure. Feel free to hold my hand for the next three hours.”
“Can you not remind me how long this flight is? I’m anxious enough as it is.”
He flips my hand again, taking charge, and rubs a soothing pattern on my skin with his thumb. “I should keep doing this, then.”
Is he flirting with me?
“Oh, definitely.”
Am I flirting right back?
At thirty-five thousand feet in the air, neither of us seems to care about the boundaries we set that night. First at the dinner table and now again, I realize I can’t fight the magnetic pull between us anymore. I don’t want to.
If we’re going to break the rules, we might as well do it in Chicago, thousands of miles away from home. In the shadows, where our decisions seem to have no consequences.
***
By the time we get to the hotel where the Youth Counseling Expo is taking place, I’m positively exhausted.
After getting our bags and checking on Ginny—Haniyah is dog sitting this weekend—Reed arranged a car to take us to the hotel. The lobby is filled with academics I recognize from watching countless talks online, and I actually have to take a moment to come to terms with the fact that I’ll be sharing the spotlight with them this weekend. Me .
“Nervous?” Reed asks when he notices me looking around frantically.
“Not as much as I’m excited,” I tell him truthfully. “Be honest with me. How likely am I to do my presentation in front of any of these people? Because I recognize most of them, and I’m kinda freaking out.”
He shifts on his feet, crossing his arms. We’ve kept our hands to ourselves since we left the airport, and it’s not too hard to understand why—to these people, we’re a professor and student traveling together.
“Your presentation only overlaps with other graduate students’, so it’s highly possible.” My stomach jumps and then drops. “There may be a whisper or two about how incredible this Lila Callaghan, future counselor is.”
“Shut up,” I hiss.
“Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m only telling you what’s being talked about in my circles.”
“There’s no way any of these people know who I am.”
“A student who has published several articles before graduating isn’t exactly common. Of course they have heard of you.”
I shake my head, moving with the queue. “Nope. I don’t believe it.”
“I would never lie to you, Lila.”
It’s the way he says it, so full of conviction, that makes me want to hug him again.
The queue moves again. “Great. Now I’m more nervous than excited.”
“I’m having dinner with a few colleagues tonight, but I can help you go over your notes before then,” he offers. “Or tomorrow morning, before your presentation. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
“Thank you, but I’ve got it.” A forty percent, maybe. “I’ll call Mariah to get my mind off things. Go for a walk around the block. There’s a gym at the hotel too; I looked it up.”
His hand lands on the small of my back for the briefest second as he guides me forward. “Text me if you need me, all right?” he insists. “You’re not alone in this.”
I look up at him and offer a small smile, unable to say anything else.
Because what are you supposed to say to the man you’re falling in love with?
Once we check in and they give us a key to our respective rooms, I tell him I’ll take a shower and go to bed early, which doesn’t stop him from offering his help again. But I don’t want to bother him if he has plans, no matter how badly the nerves start eating at me as the hours go by.
It’s past dinnertime when my phone buzzes as I’m finishing up my nightly skin-care routine.
Reed: Everything all right? You haven’t texted me all evening.
Me: No emergencies so far.
That might be a bit of a lie—my stomach has been in knots since he told me I’ll have all eyes on me during my presentation tomorrow.
Reed: Are you sure you don’t need anything? Just ask, and I’ll give it to you.
The most insane, derailed thought crosses my mind after reading his text.
He’s been more affectionate with me since the night of our kiss. We said it couldn’t happen again, but what if—
No. Don’t be insane.
Me: I’m sure. Thanks for asking though :)
Me: How was your dinner?
Reed: Uneventful. I missed a certain someone pestering me under the table.
My breathing comes to a halt. Is he actually bringing it up?
There’s a slight tremble to my hands as I type out a response.
Me: There won’t be any tables involved, but I can pester you now if you’re not too tired.
Reed: Shame about the tables. I’ll be there in five.
Holy shit.
He’s coming here.
I glance at my reflection in the mirror—I’m met with clean skin, my hair pulled back in a low pony, and very short sleep shorts paired with an old baggy T-shirt that has seen better days. But it’s not like I expected any late-night visits during this trip—even though I secretly hoped it would happen—so I didn’t pack anything sexier.
What am I even saying?
Reed wouldn’t care if I wore sexy sleeping clothes or not. That’s what I keep telling myself for the next five minutes. But when Reed knocks on my door and I open it to reveal him wearing a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck and dark slacks, my brain stops responding.
“Hey, angel.”