Chapter 21
Lainey
We’ve been in the air for almost two hours, and it’s been a relatively smooth flight so far. I just finished reading my sappy romance novel, and I’m kicking myself for not bringing another book.
We have about six more hours to go before we land in Naples, and I am already going stir crazy. I hate sitting around doing nothing. I can barely stand watching movies since you have to sit so long.
I like to move, I like to jog, I like to be active. I never played a sport in high school, but I am on the dance team at Ellington. It gives me something to do so I’m not sitting at home all the time bored out of my mind.
If you ask Mrs. Monroe or Erica, I was always an active kid. I kept up more with Holland than I did with Ellie most days. We’d run around the yard for hours playing tag and tumbling to the ground.
Being cooped up in an airplane is not my ideal way to spend time. I don’t mind flying. I’ve been flying since I was kid. The Monroe’s would let me tag along on a lot of their family vacations since I was alone more than half of the time.
When I was lucky, my parents would bring me along on one of their glorious adventures, but the chances of that happening were slim to none by the time I was thirteen.
I texted mom before we boarded to let her know I was leaving the country and would be back in a week but got no reply. Shocker.
Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting a reply, but it would be nice to know that my parents actually care where I’m at and what I’m doing. I guess that’s too much to ask from Tatiana and Drake Barkley.
‘Never expect anything, and you can never be disappointed,’ my mother used to say to me. She’d said it once when I was upset that they had forgotten my birthday. It was my fifteenth birthday, and I was home alone yet again.
Erica made me a cake, and the Monroe’s came over to celebrate with me. Mrs. Monroe got me a beautiful charm bracelet that I still wear to this day.
My fingers run over the bracelet around my wrist, and a small smile touches my lips. The Monroe family has always been there for me, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
The night of my fifteenth birthday, after my mother had called to tell me that ‘of course I didn’t forget my only daughter’s birthday. Your father and I had an event to attend,’ Holland had come over.
I heard a faint knock on my bedroom window, and when I looked down, Holland was staring back at me with this huge, goofy grin on his face.
When I met him outside, he had his hands behind his back, and he looked mischievous as hell. Part of me always loved that side of him. The playful deviance. It was one of my favorite things about him.
“Happy birthday, Lainey Bug,” he’d said as he handed me a small red velvet box. I’d stared at the box in his hand far longer than I should’ve before taking it from him.
My brows furrowed and my suspicion grew as I stared at the small box in my palm. Holland had never gotten me a birthday present before, and honestly it was a little out of character for him.
“Well, come on, open it, Barkley. It’s not gonna open itself,” he’d said, rolling his eyes with impatience.
When I opened the box, a small ladybug charm sat inside. It’s red wings and black spots standing out against the white foam inside the box.
My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the small, meaningful gift. I looked up at him, trying to fight the tears that were begging to be let out. This boy that I’ve teased and mocked, who’s tackled me to the ground and thrown mud at me, bought me a gift.
Not only a gift, but one that had meaning. One that didn’t look like it was cheap.
“Get it? Because we call you Lainey Bug? So I got you a ladybug charm to put on the bracelet my mom got you,” Holland had said with a smile. He looked so proud of himself, and it was honestly one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for me.
“You’re the only one that calls me that,” I’d said with a quiet chuckle.
Playing with the small ladybug charm on my bracelet, I become aware of my present surroundings. I’d been so caught up in my memory that I’d forgotten I was on a plane, and sitting next to Ellie, who by the way still doesn’t know that her brother got me the charm.
I wear it every day, but she’s never asked about where it came from, and I never really felt the need to tell her. Not that I’m trying to hide it from her or anything. It just hasn’t come up in conversation.
“You okay?” Ellie asks softly, her brows pinched. I nod, smiling.
“Yeah, of course. I’m fine,” I tell her. She looks down at my lap where my finished novel sits.
“I told you you should’ve brought another book. You read too fast.”
Tossing my book into my bag on the ground, I lean back in my seat and cross my legs.
“I don’t recall you saying those words to me,” I tease, knowing full well she said those exact words to me last night when I threw everything into my carry on bag.
Ellie rolls her eyes and puts her earbud back in, watching the screen on the seat in front of her.
With a heavy sigh, I get up out of my seat and head to the bathroom. I don’t have to pee that bad, but I need to stretch my legs and freshen up.
The door is shut and locked, and it’s like my bladder knows there’s a toilet right there because I suddenly feel like I could pee my pants.
After waiting about five minutes for whoever is taking forever in the bathroom, I knock. The door opens right away, and a puffy faced Holland stares back at me. His eyes are watering, and he looks as pale as a ghost.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” I ask, even though it’s a stupid question because he’s obviously not okay, Lainey.
Holland’s eyes search my face before he shakes his head, and the look on his face breaks my cold heart.
Pushing him back lightly, I squeeze my way into the small space and slide the door shut behind us. There’s barely enough room for both of us in here, so we’re chest to chest, and the smell of his cologne is intoxicating.
I place my hands on his chest awkwardly, not knowing where to keep them. I can feel his breath and the hurried beat of his heart against my palms. The way he looks right now is unrecognizable.
This very large, very muscular rugby playing man looks like a small child as he trembles beneath my touch.
“Holland, what’s wrong?” I ask, worry laced in my tone. He doesn’t say anything at first, just continues to take deep breaths.
“Holland?”
“I-I’m fine,” he stutters. He’s very clearly not fine. I shake my head, hoping he’ll tell me what’s wrong so I can at least try to help. I’m not good with feelings. I’m not good with comforting people, I can barely comfort myself.
I use sex to cope with my issues, and something tells me Holland is not going to be using that same strategy.
“Well, you don’t exactly look fine…”
“Thanks,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. I chuckle softly, hoping I can distract him with a little humor.
“Hey, I keep it real. I wouldn’t lie to you,” I tease. A small hint of a smile appears on his lips, and I can tell I’m getting close. Holland nods.
“Yeah, you’ve always been pretty up front, haven’t you?”
“It’s a talent of mine, actually. Brutal honesty is my specialty.”
Holland scoffs, and a real smile finally appears on his face, making me smile in return. The Holland I know is back, and I can finally breathe again.
The smile on his face fades quickly though, replaced with his worried expression again.
“I hate flying,” he says softly. I know he’s always had a weird thing with flying, but I’ve never seen him like this. Is he having a panic attack?
“Is that why you look like you’ve run a marathon and have puffy eyes?” I ask, grimacing.
“Yeah. I think I’m having a panic attack,” he says quietly, almost as if he’s embarrassed to admit it. I don’t know why he’d be embarrassed. It’s just me, and it’s not like I don’t know him.
Holland drops his head back and looks at the ceiling before letting out a big breath of air.
“I came in here to splash some water on my face, but then the plane shook and I freaked out. I know it was turbulence, but I thought…” he swallows as he looks back down at me.
The vulnerability in his eyes is killing me right now. I really don’t like seeing him like this. Something in me wants to take away his worry, his pain. I want to help him, but I don’t know how. We still have hours left on this plane. How is he going to last?
A bit of turbulence shakes the aircraft again and Holland’s face loses any color that was left in it. He looks like he’s going to vomit, and if he does, it will be right on me since I’m standing in front of the toilet and have no room to move.
“Shit,” he hisses, grabbing the wall. When the plane evens out again, he takes a few deep breaths, but they’re not strong. “Fuck, I need to get out of here.”
“Hey, you’re okay. We’re okay, Holland,” I urge, my hands cupping his cheek in a surprising gesture. What the hell am I doing?
Holland doesn’t even seem to notice my hands as he closes his eyes and shakes with fear.
Before I know what I’m saying, the strangest thing falls off of my lips in a whisper.
“Holland, kiss me.”
His eyes snap open, confusion replacing panic for a moment. “What?”
“Yeah, just kiss me,” I repeat, my gaze steady. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I do know that I want to take his mind off of the flight and his anxiety. “Come on. It’ll distract you.”
He hesitates, watching me as if I grew two heads. In any other circumstance, this would probably never happen, but I don’t know what else to do. This is what helps me, and it’s all I have right now.
“Are you sure?” he asks, looking completely stuck between giving in and running for the hills. My eyes search him for a moment, trying to figure out what he’s thinking, but I’m not a mind reader and I honestly hate that at this moment.
I nod, giving him the go ahead to do whatever he needs to distract himself. After a few awkward moments, he finally leans down, and my pulse races. Holy shit, is this really about to happen? Am I letting Holland Monroe kiss me?
His lips brush softly against mine. The kiss is tentative at first, a question more than an answer. But suddenly Holland isn’t shy anymore. Maybe he’s feeling relief or confusion?
To my surprise, he deepens the kiss. He pulls me closer to him, but I didn’t need to move much. The bathroom is cramped, but the tightness feels comforting rather than suffocating.
My lips seem to part involuntarily, and Holland wastes no time as his tongue brushes against mine. The taste of him is intoxicating, a mix of mint and something uniquely him. He’s a really good freaking kisser.
He groans softly, his hands moving to my hips, holding me steady. Thank God for that because I’m feeling a bit off kilter right now.
The kiss is frantic, desperate, a lifeline in the chaos that must be his mind.
But as quickly as it started, it comes to an abrupt end at the sound of a knock on the door.
Holland pulls back quickly, his breath ragged. He tries to back up, but he can’t get far.
“Shit,” he hisses, running a hand through his messed hair. I just stand there, looking between him and the door as another knock comes from the other side, and then a familiar voice calls out.
“Hey, I’ve really gotta go, can you hurry up in there?”
Holland blows out a breath and looks visibly more relaxed as I reach for the handle to slide open the door. I’m greeted by Mason’s annoyed expression. Something tells me he’s been waiting out here for a bit.
My cheeks heat as he looks from Holland to me, putting the pieces together. He needs to keep his mouth shut because I don’t want Ellie finding out about this. Not yet.
“What… you guys…” Mason gestures between the two of us, his expression almost horrified. “You…” he points to Holland. “And you…” he says as he points at me. “Did you guys-”
I cut him off before he can even finish that sentence. “No! No, of course not. He just-”
Holland cuts me off before I can say anything more.
“We were planning a, uh… surprise. Yeah, a surprise for Ryker and Gwen. We wanted to keep it quiet until we were sure of our plan,” Holland spouts out. What a ridiculous lie! Mason isn’t that stupid; he’ll never fall for…
“Oh sweet! So, what is it?” Mason asks, his face lit up with excitement. He looks between the two of us again and my pulse picks up speed. I am not good at lying, and here I am, trying to come up with a ‘surprise’ that wasn’t even a thing until five seconds ago.
“What is what?” Holland asks. If I had enough room to maneuver myself enough to face palm, I would. He’s kidding right?
“The surprise. What is it?”
“Oh, right. Well, I can’t tell you because… well, because you’re not really great with secrets, Mase,” Holland says, his face crinkling. Mason’s hand flies to his chest and his mouth falls open.
“What? I’m great with secrets. I could keep a secret forever if I had to,” he defends. He looks genuinely offended, and I have to keep myself from laughing because he has to know how awful he is when it comes to keeping a secret.
Last year, we tried to throw a surprise party for Holland’s birthday and Mason ruined it. He was in charge of getting Holland where he needed to be, and he let it slip that they had to be there right on time or it would ruin the surprise.
We were all so pissed we locked him out of the party, causing him to pout outside the entire time. It even started to downpour, and he still stood out there, pouting. He’s never let us live it down, but we’ve never let the fact that he spoiled a surprise be forgotten either.
Hence Holland’s comment about Mason not being good with surprises.
Mason is always acting like everyone is against him, but that’s only because he’s usually the one we have to worry about. He’s the one that hits on anything with a pair of tits and a vagina.
He’s the one that’ll get us kicked out of a party because he hit on someone’s girlfriend. That’s just the way he is, and we love him for it.
“Oh, Mason,” I placate, placing both my hands on either side of his face. He looks down at me with a bewildered expression. “You’re horrible with secrets. But at least you’re cute.”
I pat his cheek and lightly push him so he moves out of the doorway.
When I get back to my seat, Ellie gives me a quizzical look, but she doesn’t say anything. I give her a small smile before she turns back to reading her book.