8. Cherise
Chapter eight
Cherise
Iadjusted my sunglasses. I spent two hours deciding between three different airport outfits. A cute jumpsuit was the obvious choice. Hot girl comfort was a priority.
Chelsea flopped next to me at the gate, already halfway into a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. We were very early. TSA probably thought we worked here early.
I grabbed my phone and dialed Leo’s number.
“Hello?” He answered.
I sighed. “Please tell me you’re five minutes away.”
“Hold on. Remember, his chicken is boiled, not baked. Never seasoned, never spicy. He has a sensitive system. Do you need me to write this down?”
“My God, Leo. It’s dog sitting, not open-heart surgery. You better not be late.”
“I’ll be on time. Sorry, I didn’t arrive at the ass crack of dawn like you,” he said, all offended. “Let me have my moment. This is the first time I’ve had to leave Moose in the hands of someone else who may not be as competent in showing the same compassion to Moose. Sorry, Mom.”
I rolled my eyes. “Tell Moosie I love him.”
He paused. “You are not nicknaming my dog Moosie.”
From somewhere in the background, Moose barked.
I grinned, smug. “See, he loves it.”
“No. You’re corrupting him.”
“I’m bonding with him. Now get here, before I decide to replace you with your cousin from Tampa.”
He sighed. “I’ll be there in a few.”
Click.
I dropped my phone in my lap.
Chelsea licked Cheeto dust off her fingers and raised a brow. “You done flirting with your fake boyfriend?”
I made a noise in my throat. “Please, that man is allergic to flirting.”
Chelsea tilted her head. “So, you’re okay…with the whole breakup situation?”
I looked at her straight-faced. “Girl, you know I’m not the one to cry over some man.”
Chelsea gave me a look.
I shrugged. “I mean, yeah, Derrick checked all the boxes. Tall, rich, shiny teeth. But I could see the end creeping near. Now that it’s over? Other than his face and his wallet, I don’t even know what I ever saw in his crusty ass.”
Chelsea cackled. “You’re ruthless.”
“And thriving.”
She gave me a look. “What if you and Leo hit it off?”
I gagged. “Hell. No. Leo? That man checks none of my boxes. He’s a walking IKEA manual. All instructions and no thrill.”
“You did ask him to be your fake boyfriend on a secluded, luxurious island, though.”
“I asked him to be a stand-in. This wasn’t that. Let’s be honest…could you imagine what it would be like to sleep with him?” I made a face like I licked a battery. “It’d be like sleeping with my tax guy while he lectured me on filing deductions. Total bore—ville.”
Chelsea burst out laughing. “Stop!”
“Plus, I’ve been with his brother. Do you know how weird that would be? That’s a Love Island plot twist, and I’m not trying to get voted off the villa.”
We both laughed so hard that the Cheeto bag hit the floor.
An hour passed. I was debating if I had time to get a Starbucks refresher when I heard someone clear their throat.
I turned.
And my jaw practically hit the floor.
Leo. Standing there. Fresh haircut. Black polo clinging to his arms. Grey joggers that fit in all the right places.
Damn.
Urkle was long gone, and standing in front of me was fine ass Stefan.
Chelsea leaned in, whispering behind her hand. “I thought you said he wasn’t your type.”
I shot her a look, but the drool from the corner of my mouth was a little snitch.
She grinned and conjured up her best Maury impersonation. “The lie detector test determined… that was a lie.”
“Shut up,” I hissed, already sitting up straighter and fluffing my curls.
Leo sat down next to me, totally unaware that he was now radiating snack energy.
“Hope I’m not late,” he said in a low sultry voice.
“Nope,” I said, my voice a full octave higher. What the hell? I cleared my throat. “Perfect timing.”
This trip just got way more interesting.
“Leo,” I said as I gestured to my sister. “This is Chelsea. She’s my younger sister; she bites sometimes, but she’s fully vaccinated.”
Chelsea rolled her eyes. “Hi,” she said with a fake smile. “Sorry that you are being forced against your will to accompany my annoying big sister on this trip. Blink twice if you want me to call the police.”
Leo chuckled. “You two always like this?”
“Only when we’re breathing,” Chelsea quipped, popping a piece of gum.
Before I could retaliate, the speaker above us dinged.
“Flight 517 with service to San Francisco is now boarding.”
My stomach somersaulted.
Chelsea jumped up and grabbed her bag as if she were headed to Disneyland.
I, however, stayed frozen.
“Cherise?” Leo looked down at me, brows tugging together. “You good? You look like you're about to be executed.”
I exhaled. “Mmhmm.” I lied.
“No, she’s not.” Chelsea unhelpfully piped up. “She’s been terrified to fly ever since she watched Final Destination.”
I slapped her arm. “I am not scared. I just respect gravity, okay? And the fact that humans have no business hurtling through the sky in a metal tube.”
Leo raised a brow. “So…. you're scared.”
“Don’t make me slap you, too.”
“Look, I used to be scared, too.”
I blinked. “Why does that not surprise me?”
“Ha ha very funny. But seriously, the first time I flew, I sat on the plane with a death grip on the armrest while I whispered my will to the old lady beside me.”
“Did she comfort you?”
“Nope. She changed seats.”
I cracked a laugh. Fine. Maybe he could check the funny box off my list.
“But look at me now, fearless and ready to tackle another flight. If I can do it… so can you.”
I grinned and grabbed my suitcase handle.
As we walked toward the gate, I whispered a silent prayer.
The line moved forward.
“Just breathe,” Leo said gently as we stepped on board.
We found our row. Chelsea plopped into the window seat, leaving Leo and me in the middle and aisle.
Chelsea hummed beside us, already digging out her AirPods. “It’s not that bad. We’ll be in the air, you’ll watch a couple movies, eat a cookie and overpriced food, then boom, we’re at our first layover safe and sound.”
“I highly doubt that cookies and a movie are going to calm me down for five hours!”
“Then nap. I’ll wake you when we land.”
“Girl, I can’t even nap through thunderstorms, you think I am going to be able to cozy up and nap while hovering thousands of miles in the air in a metal death trap?”
“Okay, then sit there and panic while I let my audiobook boyfriend emotionally damage me for the next seven chapters.”
I rolled my eyes. “You're no help. You…”
My retort was cut off by the plane jolting forward. My body pressed into the seat as my grip tightened on the armrest on instinct. I glanced over to Leo and said dramatically, “As for my clothes and heels, I leave them to my sister Chelsea because lord knows she could use some style.”
Leo laughed.
Chelsea pulled an AirPod out of her ear. “You're saying it as an insult, but I’m actually winning in that situation.” She leaned over to Leo. “Have you seen her heel collection?”
“Why, no, not the whole collection, but the heel she boomeranged at my ass looked pretty nice, so I could only imagine.”
I laughed until a stabbing, skull-splitting pain radiated through my ears. “What. The. Fuck!” I yelled as I cupped my hands over my ears, trying to alleviate the pain.
Leo jumped, startled. “What’s wrong?”
“My ears! They feel like they’re being attacked by invisible jackhammers!”
“Oh, that’s just the air pressure change,” Leo said, calm as ever, as if my brain wasn’t seconds from oozing out of my ears. Also, why the hell was I the only one writhing in pain? Was this some cruel first-time flyer initiation?
Leo reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of gum. “Here. Chew this. It helps,” Leo said, passing me a stick of gum.
Chelsea, chewing obnoxiously, added, “You just need to yawn. Or cry. Crying helps, too.”
I took the gum. Aggressively chewing, desperate for relief. If this didn’t work, trying to cry wouldn’t be an issue. But by the grace of God himself, my ears made a popping sensation, and the pain slowly subsided.
Leo leaned closer, voice low. “You good? Did it work?”
“I’m ok. Thank you,” I said coolly. Then he gave me a smile that had me softening again like butter on toast.
Dammit.
The soft curve of his smirk? Criminal. The way his voice slid into my bones was straight up felonious, and he wasn’t even trying.
I shifted in my seat, forcing myself to stare at literally anything that wasn’t Leo Campbell. The clouds. The tray table. The crusty corner of the laminated safety manual that looked like it had survived a war.
“You sure you’re okay? You look twitchy,” Leo asked again, clearly enjoying the flush creeping up my neck. I didn’t dare glance at him. Not when my cheeks were most likely doing their best tomato impression.
Calm the fuck down, Cherise. All he did was offer you some gum.
“I’m fine.” I lied, chewing so hard I was probably going to sprain my jaw.
Leo didn’t press. Just offered a soft hum and turned his gaze to the window, giving me space to spiral in peace.
The plane hummed into life beneath us. A little bump. A little rumble. But nothing too dramatic. Slowly, my muscles unclenched from their full-body panic. I even let myself peek over at Leo, who had his head tilted back against the seat, eyes closed. So at ease.
Okay. Maybe I was being a little overdramatic. Flying wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.
***
Five hours later, we inched toward the runway.
Then the plane tilted.
My stomach dropped like it had been yeeted into another dimension. We accelerated, wheels lifting, and everything inside me screamed this was not natural.
A sharp jolt rocked the cabin. My hand shot out on instinct —right onto Leo’s.
Warm. Steady. Big enough to wrap around mine twice.
He didn’t flinch. Just opened one eye and smiled as he curled his hand around mine.
“Everything is going to be okay. Sometimes landings can be a little… rough, but I got you.”
Chelsea leaned over. “If y’all start making out mid turbulence, I swear on my fake lashes I’m opening the emergency exit.”
I snapped my hand back. “No one is kissing anyone, Chelsea!” I hissed. “I’m just trying not to die from this Delta flight from hell!”
Leo chuckled.
The audacity.
Then the plane dipped again.
I screamed. Loud. As if someone just snatched my wig off in public. Without shame, I latched onto Leo’s arm.
Chelsea was full on wheezing, wiping tears of laughter.
The wheels hit the runway. We bounced. Screeched. Jolted.
The plane slowed, and I peeked one eye open. Still alive. Thank God.
“See, that wasn’t too bad,” Leo said as I peeled my arms away from his.
I sat up straight. “I think I handled that with class, if I do say so myself.”
Chelsea choked on her own laugh. “Please. You were two bumps away from dry humping Leo.”
“First of all,” I huffed, “no one humped anyone. My survival instincts kicked in. That was self-preservation.”
“Uh-huh.” Chelsea smirked. “Tell that to your lipstick smeared all over his arm.
I whipped around to inspect him. “Oh my God.”
Leo looked down at the pink smear and shrugged. “Guess it will be my badge of honor.”
I groaned, covering my face as the seatbelt sign dinged.
“Please tell me the next flight has less turbulence,” I muttered as people immediately started unbuckling around us.
Chelsea stretched in her seat beside me. “That was nothing. You should’ve seen the flight I took to Vegas last year. I genuinely thought I was about to meet Jesus.”
“So helpful, Chelsea,” I said sarcastically.
“Always here to help,” she said, flashing me a grin.
Leo laughed as he stood to grab our suitcases from the overhead compartment.
The plane doors opened and cool San Francisco air rushed into the cabin along with the sound of impatient travelers already complaining about connections.
Definitely not Hawaii yet.
We shuffled off the plane with the rest of the crowd, and I mentally scolded my generation for not inventing teleportation yet.
Freaking amateurs.
“Why are airports so busy,” I complained, adjusting the strap of my tote.
“You’ll survive,” Chelsea said, completely unbothered. “We only have like, an hour and a half until our next flight.”
“ONLY?!”
Leo reached over and grabbed my tote bag before I could stop him. The second he lifted it, his eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline.
“Cherise!” He looked genuinely concerned. “How do you not have an indention in your shoulder? What the hell is in this bag?”
I shrugged innocently. “Vacation necessities.”
“This feels like you packed a backup human in here.”
Chelsea peeked over Leo’s shoulder. “You absolutely packed twelve pairs of shoes, didn’t you?”
“Twelve is dramatic.”
Leo placed the bag on his shoulder with a grunt. “That wasn’t a no.”
I rolled my eyes and kept walking. “A woman deserves options.”
“You’re in Hawaii for one week, not fleeing the country,” said Chelsea.
“You don’t know that. You never know what chaos we are going to get into there.”
Leo laughed softly behind me, and annoyingly enough, the sound made my stomach flutter.
We wandered through the airport for a bit before heading toward our next gate. Chelsea grabbed overpriced snacks while I forced Leo to help me find coffee before I dramatically passed away in Terminal 2.
By the time we finally reached the gate for our next flight, exhaustion was already creeping in and we still had another five hours to go before Maui.
This time change was going to kick my ass.
The overhead speaker crackled.
“United flight 573 with service to Kahului, Maui is now boarding.”
Leo handed me my tote bag, then took it right back when I nearly tipped sideways from the weight.
“Not happening. I got it.”
I waved my hands in surrender. I wasn’t going to argue. That bag was heavy as hell.
I reached for the handle of my suitcase, and we all made our way to our final flight to Maui.