20. Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty
Addy
The bare minimum.
That’s what I’ve been doing since Blaze rocked my world and then retreated like I have the plague or something. I don’t want to admit just how hurt I am, and at the same time, I shouldn’t be hurt. This is a fake relationship…
But he kissed me first.
I stare down at my carry-on, frustrated as I flex and unflex my hand. Blaze is just a few feet away, nursing a coffee like there’s nothing wrong at all. I don’t know how he’s doing that—just pretending like whatever happened on the beach meant nothing to him.
But maybe that’s because it didn’t mean anything.
My head spins as they finally call for us to board, and I take a step forward to jump in the line. Luckily my family isn’t on the same flight, so we don’t have to pretend to love each other anymore.
“I got a freaking aisle seat,” a middle-aged guy says in front of me. “I don’t care if I’m first class or not, I can’t stand the aisle—and this is a long flight.” He’s grumbling into his phone, and as I glance back, I see that Blaze has been slow to get in line, falling a few people behind me.
I tap the guy’s shoulder as soon as he hangs up. “Excuse me?” I say in a polite, quiet voice.
He spins around, a surprised expression on his face. “Yes?”
“I have a window seat in first class, and I’ll happily trade you.” I give him the best please accept smile I can muster, and he hesitates for a moment.
He narrows his eyes. “Why would you do that?”
“It’s a long story.” I chew on my bottom lip. “But you’ll get to sit next to one of the Glaciers’ NHL players…”
His face lights up. “No way!”
“Yeah, way,” I tell him, smiling. “And it would just be really great if you would switch seats with me. I don’t mind an aisle seat. In fact, I’d prefer any other seat than the one next to him today.”
“Ah, you’re in one of those situations.” He chuckles. “Consider it done.”
“Thank you,” I breathe as he turns back around. I glance in Blaze’s direction. His eyes are suddenly on me, a peculiar look on his face. In fact, he almost looks worried. I give him a blank expression and then proceed to board, switching seats as planned, which puts me three rows behind where I was originally supposed to be.
A woman who’s probably in her mid-to-late fifties slips into the window seat beside me. Her Hawaiian dress screams tourist—but hey, just about everyone on this plane is a tourist.
“Hi.” She gives me a slight nod as she settles into her seat.
I smile at her and then watch as Blaze boards, has a conversation with the guy I switched seats with, and then searches for me, his eyes scanning each row. I ensure I’m looking away by the time he makes it to my row. In fact, even when I can feel his gaze, I just stare at my phone, pretending not to notice him at all.
Am I being a little vindictive? Maybe. But honestly, I just don’t want to cry. My feelings are all mangled right now, and it’s harder than ever to combat my emotions. Blaze has been in my life for a decade. But now that I’ve felt his lips on mine, I don’t know how I’m supposed to act normal around him anymore.
My phone buzzes in my hand.
Blaze: What are you doing? I got us seats next to each other… Why did you switch rows?
I almost ignore the message, but I decide that’s probably too cruel. I quickly type back a reply and then switch my device to airplane mode.
Me: I was just trying to do that guy a favor. He hates aisle seats.
With a sigh, I put my phone back into my backpack and pull out my Kindle, hoping to distract my mind with a great novel—one that’s not even remotely like the beachy fake dating to real dating romcom that I started reading on the plane ride here. That’s not going to work.
“Oh, what are you reading?” The woman next to me asks.
“I’m not sure yet. But definitely not a romcom,” I say with a forced chuckle. “I need a break from all that mushy stuff.”
She laughs, and her smile highlights her green eyes. We continue some small talk about books, and then the plane takes off without a hitch.
I glance toward Blaze and his new buddy, who are seemingly deep in conversation. Well, maybe it’s deep. I can’t hear anything, so I really don’t know. I’m trying to focus on my Kindle—by reading a thriller—but it’s not really serving as the distraction I had hoped it would.
Maybe I should’ve just sat next to him and slept.
Except I know that wouldn’t have happened, either.
I barely slept last night, tossing and turning with a pillow barricade between Blaze and me. And you know what’s worse? Blaze had zero issues sleeping. He snored the whole night, completely unphased by everything that happened between us.
And that only made me feel worse.
“Are you alright?” the woman’s voice cuts into my thoughts, and I turn to face her.
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, suddenly realizing there’s a tear rolling down my cheek. I bat it away, embarrassed. “It’s just been one really weird vacation.”
“Hmm,” she hums. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with the man that keeps looking back here at you, would it? Not to be nosy or anything.”
“Yeah, it does,” I admit with a shrug. “I switched seats with a stranger so I wouldn’t have to sit next to him on the flight home.”
“Oh my.” She takes a sip of her drink and then flags down one of the flight attendants. “Get this woman whatever she wants and put it on my tab, please.”
“You don’t have to do th—”
“Oh, nonsense.” She waves me off. “I know what it’s like to nurse a broken heart. You need a strong drink and whatever else fits your taste buds.”
I giggle, unable to help it, and order a mimosa. As soon as it’s brought to me, I turn to the woman and extend my hand. “I’m Addy.”
“Mary.” She takes it and gives my fingers a light squeeze. “Now, what brought you to Hawaii? Were you on vacation with that disaster of a man up there?”
I laugh. “He was my date for my sister’s wedding. He was… He was supposed to be my fake boyfriend because my family is crazy—well, my grandparents are…” I go on to share the entire experience with this stranger named Mary. She listens intently, nodding along.
“Wow. It sounds like quite a predicament.”
“Doesn’t it?” I groan, now on my second drink. “It’s ridiculous that I’m even feeling this way. Meanwhile, he’s not bothered in the slightest.”
She knits her brows together. “I wouldn’t say that. Considering he’s been stealing glances back here every chance he gets—which I’m afraid will probably leave him with a sore neck tomorrow.” Mary giggles and shakes her head. “But tell me, Addy, what made you dare him to kiss you again?”
I pause and take a sip of my mimosa, trying to gather my thoughts before answering. “Honestly, I don’t even know. I guess I wanted to see if the sparks were real or just part of the act.”
Mary raises an eyebrow. “And were they real?”
“They were…” I trail off, remembering the soft press of his lips against mine, how it felt like coming home and being lost at the same time. “But it doesn’t change anything. According to him, we’re just friends, and that’s all we can ever be,” I say quickly, just as the flight attendant brings me my third drink.
Blaze gets up from his seat and heads toward the bathroom—which means he has to walk right past me. I look away, catching the scent of his cologne before he even gets to my row. And wouldn’t you know it, Mary waves at him. I force my gaze up, and Blaze shakes his head, his expression impossible to read.
“He strikes me as being a complicated man,” Mary muses as soon as he’s out of earshot. “I think he’s got baggage. Any man that looks at you like that but doesn’t want to be with you … he’s got to have baggage.”
“How do you know all this?” I ask, angling my body in her direction. “You seem way too good at reading people.”
“Well, quite frankly, it comes with the territory of being a therapist, but…”
Oh my gosh. I’ve been talking to a therapist this whole time?
I rub my forehead, feeling my face heating up from embarrassment. “I bet you think I’m crazy.”
She laughs. “Oh goodness, no. I get it. I get what you were doing with your family, too. You’re about to be thirty, and it sounds like you’re under some immense pressure. As for what’ll happen between you and your friend here, I can’t answer that. You’d have to go to a psychic for that kind of advice.”
I snort. “Yeah, no thanks.”
We both burst into laughter.
Blaze walks past us for a second time to return to his seat. As he settles back in, I steal a glance at him, my heart fluttering in my chest. Despite everything, despite the confusion and the mixed signals, I can’t deny the pull I feel toward him.
Mary leans in closer, her voice low as she speaks. “Are you in love with him?”
I swallow hard and look out the window, watching the clouds pass by as we soar above them. The question lingers in the air, heavy and poignant.
Am I in love with Blaze?
It’s a question I’ve been avoiding confronting since the night he kissed me at the wedding.
“I … I think I might be,” I finally admit, a lump forming in my throat. “But it’s … complicated.”
Mary’s expression softens as she places a comforting hand on mine. “Love is never simple, dear,” she says gently. “But sometimes, we have to be brave enough to confront our feelings head-on. Life is too short to hold back our hearts. You should tell him how you feel.”
I smile and nod … but nausea churns in my stomach at the thought of telling Blaze how I truly feel. Because as inspiring as Mary’s little speech about love sounds, she doesn’t know Blaze like I do.
And I already know how a conversation like that with him would end.
Which makes this all the more heartbreaking…