7. Lila
SEVEN
Lila
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groaned.
“Hello again,” Harrison said, as he stuffed his ratty duffel into the overhead compartment and tossed a sketchbook onto the first-class seat next to mine.
“I should have known they’d stick us together.” Even though the seats were massive up here, I still curled myself toward the window to distance myself from him even further.
“I’m so sorry. Am I cramping your first-class style?” He gave me that smug closed-lip smile that I wish I loathed but instead gave me butterflies.
“Not even you could ruin this for me,” I shot back.
And it was true. After we’d separated, I had gotten a few snacks and a new book. The prices at the airport were expensive, but I couldn’t resist. I loved the ritual of wandering the terminal before a flight and picking out a new vacation read. If I hadn’t ditched Harrison, I’m sure he would have droned on about how it was a waste of money.
“You aren’t going to want to talk the whole time, are you?” Harrison asked gruffly as he sat down in his pod-like seat.
I pulled the airline-provided blanket over my lap.
“Nope.”
“Really?” He questioned, arching a brow. “Because you seem like the type to talk my ear off the whole time and never take a hint.”
My cheeks stained pink. Why was he always so insistent on sparring?
“Sorry that you’re going to be subjected to me for an entire flight,” I said, the sweet sarcasm dripping from my tone. “But I promise, despite what you might think, my obnoxious personality won’t rub off on you.”
I let his comment wash over me, but it still stung a bit. Of course I liked talking, especially on airplanes when I was all excited about the end destination. If Charlie had been in Harrison’s place, you’d have been hard pressed to get us to shut up for at least the first hour or two.
To Harrison, however, that was apparently the most annoying trait imaginable. Much like every trait I possessed, it seemed. Despite the promise I’d made to myself after that day at his shop, to not let him get under my skin, his taunts still hurt. It would always drive me a little nuts that I wasn’t his cup of tea, especially since that tiny little flutter in my heart refused to fade. It was even worse now, sitting next to him without the divider up, leaving it all too easy for him to inch into my space at any moment. Plus, he smelled good . Like distractingly good.
I shuddered and turned toward the window.
“Nothing else to say,” he probed as he picked up his leather drawing pad.
“Look who’s the chatty one now. I’m just trying to enjoy this.” I made a big display of opening my book and pressing it close to my nose. The pages had that new book smell. “Why don’t you just keep to yourself the rest of the flight?”
His deep sigh sparked my curiosity, and I glanced up.
His hard expression made him impossible to read, whereas my own face tended to show every emotion like I wore a sign across my forehead. I didn’t mind it, usually. Had it made my dating life challenging? Sure. But overall, I liked my vulnerability. People like Harrison could call it a weakness if they wanted, but I knew it was one of my biggest strengths.
“I’m sorry.” The words sounded like they were physically painful for him to deliver.
“For what?”
“For being a jerk. You can talk if you want to.”
“You said it five seconds ago. How can you already be sorry?” I asked, giving up on pretending to read and setting the book back down in my lap. “I get it. You’ve made it abundantly clear that everything about me is a giant joke. But no worries; in just ten short hours we’ll be landing in Munich, and then just one more short flight to Santorini, and then the two of us never have to be alone in the same room again. I can promise you that.”
I turned away again as the burly bear next to me shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Hey,” he started. But I opened my book back up aggressively and placed it over my face, using it as a barrier so I wouldn’t have to look at him. If he made some sexist comment about the pink cover or the fact that it was obviously a romance novel, I might lose it.
“Look—” Harrison breathed.
“Let’s not talk,” I snapped, pulling my book down for a moment to level him with a glare before returning it to eye-level again.
He sighed as if he had just completed some sort of physical labor.
“I’m trying to apologize,” he said.
I lifted the book higher.
“Are you listening?” he asked before his hand slid over the top of my book and lowered it gently.
I caved in and lowered it the rest of the way before eyeing him warily. His dark eyes looked sincere. I could honestly say in the entire time we’d known each other, he’d never given me a look like that. When I glanced behind him, I noticed our elderly seatmates across the aisle look away quickly.
“Fine. Get it over with.” The last thing I wanted was every person in the first-class cabin eavesdropping on our drama.
I shifted in my seat so that I faced him and he wouldn’t have to talk as loudly. My heart rate kicked up a couple of notches at the prolonged eye contact. Man, I’d thought he was attractive when he was being a jerk; I would have been done for if he’d shot me one of these looks every once in a while. I stuffed my sweaty palms into my sweatshirt and hoped he wouldn’t notice that he had any sort of effect on me.
“I’m really sorry for the last time we were together, okay?” He said the last word while searching my eyes, begging me to take him seriously. “That was an asshole thing to say, and it wasn’t true.”
I lifted my chin up. “Go on.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” he admitted. “You were helping me out, and I was a dick. I’m sorry. Unfortunately, it’s just my nature. Sometimes, I find myself saying the worst possible thing to... I don’t even know. Get the upper hand, maybe? I’ve been doing it my entire life and I’m sorry you were caught in the crossfire.”
Attempting to analyze the sincerity in his words was tough. On the one hand, I didn’t know that I’d ever be able to fully trust Harrison. But on the other hand, he’d never been so earnest with me before. This felt like a different person.
“Crossfire? Seems more like any time we’re together, I’m in your direct line of attack,” I pointed out, still not prepared to let him off the hook.
“And it’s fun, right? A little friendly banter?” His guilty grin caused me to snort.
“Oh, that’s what you’re calling it? No wonder Oliver is your only friend if that’s what you consider ‘friendly banter.’”
“Look, I don’t do apologies,” he said tersely, jaw clenched.
“Shhh.” I held up my finger and nodded forward, indicating we’d gain an audience if he kept that up.
“I suck at this.” His voice was now just above a whisper. “But I know that you deserve an apology—a real one. And you’re right. I do always give you a hard time. I can’t change how I’ve acted in the past, but I’ll try to do better.”
I dipped my chin.
“I will do better.”
I paused for at least thirty seconds, letting him sweat. Did I believe him? I mean, he hadn’t said he was going to try and be my best friend or anything. He just said he’d try to be less of a jerk. Which, let’s be real, was not a very high bar to reach. But this awkward repentance was miles more than I had received in the past. Maybe he’d never accept me, or want to be friendly, but we could at the very least coexist. Plus, it wasn’t like I had to completely open myself up to him. Calling a truce was not going to leave me vulnerable.
I hoped.
“Fine. I’ll accept that.”
His shoulders dropped.
“Thank God,” he grunted and turned away from me.
And just like that, the hairs on the back of my neck bristled. “Wow, apologizing to me really took that much out of you?” I whispered. “Grow up, Harrison.”
He ran a hand over his face but didn’t look fazed.
“Apologizing in general is hard for me. But I can admit when I’m wrong.”
“Must be easy to admit it when you’re always in the wrong,” I fired back, unable to help myself.
“Hey.” He tore out a blank piece of white paper from his sketchbook and waved it. “Did we not just have a nice moment? We can’t ruin it already.”
“I didn’t start it,” I insisted, rolling my eyes and snatching the paper out of his hand. A smile snuck onto my lips looking at his exasperated face.
His eyes shone with relief when he noticed my shift in demeanor. If he was truly going to try and be a little nicer to me, then I wasn’t about to be the one holding on to any bitterness.
“Let’s just have a nice trip with everyone,” he said.
“I’m planning on it.” My shoulders sagged. This was the first time I had been away from work since... since... well, since I couldn’t even remember. But it had been too long. “I’ve needed a vacation for months, and I’m not about to let any animosity between us ruin it,” I added.
“No animosity here,” Harrison insisted.
“Good,” I said, picking my book back up.
“Good.” Harrison opened his worn book and produced a pencil that had been lodged behind his ear. It was one of those nice artist’s ones that was so satisfying to sketch with. My eyes itched to sneak a glance at his drawings, but something told me he wouldn’t appreciate that.
I tried to focus on my new book, but the words blurred together on the page. My mind wandered to the trip ahead instead. Freaking Greece! We’d be there in just a few hours. Well, it was more like twenty hours of travel, but still. Less than a day away. I assumed our hotel had a pool, and the first thing I wanted to do was drag Charlie and Oliver out for a swim. My mental calculations informed me we wouldn’t get there until dinnertime, local time, but what a magical way to start a trip. A little evening swim. Maybe I could even convince everyone to go.
My thoughts drifted back to Harrison and the bathing suit he apparently definitely owned. A small chuckle escaped my lips.
“What?” Harrison demanded, jerking away from his drawing. It was like he was attuned to any trace of joy, ready to squash it instantly.
I bit my lip, trying to keep my smile from growing.
“Tell me.” He set down his pencil and eyed me with the tiniest hint of impatience.
“Just still trying to picture you on vacation,” I admitted. “Do you have sandals to match your bathing suit?”
He rolled his eyes. “I hope this is making you feel better.”
“It is,” I said, turning back to him and smiling. The corner of his lip quirked up ever so slightly.
“Sorry for the short delay, but we’ll be taking off soon.” The flight attendant peered over at us from the aisle. “Anything to drink?”
“No thanks,” he grunted.
“We’ll have two champagnes, please,” I said at the same time.
The woman winked and went back to the front.
When Harrison glared at me, I just shrugged in response. “What? It’s going to be a long enough flight as it is. We might as well try to enjoy it.”
“I don’t drink champagne.”
“Too girly for you?” I fluttered my eyelashes.
“It’s too sweet.”
“Anything is too sweet when you’re filled to the brim with bitterness.”
He scowled, which just made me laugh.
“You’ll live,” I said just as the flight attendant returned and handed us two glasses.
He ignored me, but he took the glass before shutting his book and setting it to the side of his tray table.
I nodded at it. “You draw a lot?”
“Oh, uh.” He eyed the sketchbook and then eyed me. His brow softened slightly when he took note of my genuine interest. “Yeah, I do. It’s always the quickest way to pass time for me.”
“I take it you wouldn’t let me see any of them?” I asked carefully.
His dark eyes widened, but he didn’t get angry like I worried he might. Instead, he just gave a quick shake of his head. “Sorry, I don’t really like sharing them.”
Instead of pushing, I just smiled. “I get it. I used to sketch more in high school, and I never liked showing anyone. It’s personal.”
We sat in silence for a moment before he tipped his head toward my book. “You read a lot?” he asked.
“I try to. I wish I had more time, but I’m always working. Do you read?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “Usually heavier stuff.”
I rolled my eyes exaggeratingly at that. “I read all sorts of books, Harrison. And I can promise you, this—” I held up the colorful book and shook it at him. “—this is exactly what you want while soaking up rays in the Mediterranean.”
“Looks really educational,” he mused. Thankfully, there was no condescension in his voice. Was Harrison actually teasing me?
I snorted. “You’re such a snob.”
At this, he turned his whole body to face me. “You’re telling me that’s the height of literature?”
“What does that even mean? It’s fun. It’s compelling. I love the characters. Plus, reading a fluffy romcom is a great distraction from my own depressing love life. Do you ask yourself every time you pick up a book if it’s going to be the height of literature ?” I said the last words with a bad British accent.
“Yes,” he said flatly.
“Harrison,” I said, unable to contain my bubble of laughter. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”
He scowled at me before reaching over and plucking the book from my clutches.
“What are you doing? Give that back.” I tried to retrieve it, but he held it high, just out of my reach.
“No. Apparently I need to broaden my views,” he said.
“You’re seriously going to read my book?” I asked, trying not to gape.
“I can’t critique something I haven’t tried.”
“Why do I feel like that hasn’t stopped you in the past?”
Harrison held my book in front of him and held up a finger to his mouth. “Excuse me. Can you please keep it down? I’m trying to read.”
I let out a laugh at the sight.
The flight attendants came through to prepare us for take-off. Soon our plane was taxiing out of the gate, and we were airborne. I glued my face to the window, keeping an eye on the ground. As it got farther away, so did my real life.
“You really do like flying.”
I turned back around to see Harrison staring at me openly, my book sitting forgotten on his lap.
“I love it.”
He frowned in a pensive way before nodding. “I think I’m going to watch a movie and pass out. It’s a long flight.”
“Enjoy,” I said, knowing that I’d probably be up for hours savoring every second of this experience. I mean, business was doing well, but realistically, when could I expect to fly first-class again?
Harrison shifted in his seat, his expression hard as ever. I tried my best to tune out his presence, but the heat crawling up my skin wasn’t going anywhere. Could this little crush be any more humiliating? The urge to peel off my sweatshirt hit me, but it was actually freezing in here. The last thing I wanted to do was draw attention to the fact that I was nearly combusting.
Instead, I slipped on my giant noise-canceling headphones, selected whatever latest comedy the airline had to offer, and settled into my seat, pretending I didn’t even notice my very attractive, attention-consuming seatmate.
Warily optimistic. That’s how I would describe my feelings toward him. Our newfound truce was unexpected and welcome. But knowing Harrison, his mood could shift as easily as a leaf floating gently to the ground could be whipped back into the air by a rogue gust of wind.
He might change his mind about all this, or simply forget the second an opportunity arose to make a snide remark directed at me. Even if he did revert, though, only two international flights separated us from our friends. Charlie, Oliver—even Nathan. They’d be the buffers we desperately needed. Once we were all reunited, Harrison and I would barely have to interact.
For the sake of my racing heart and the nervous energy swelling inside of me, I was immensely grateful for that.