Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
THEO
“Can I tell you a secret?” she whispers, stretching out her legs in the spacious business class seats.
“Of course,” I whisper, leaning in. “You can tell me anything.”
That’s not strictly true. There are plenty of things an employee shouldn’t tell me, and Evie is no exception. She’s a good enough employee, so I’ll make some allowances.
Evie put together the perfect flight itinerary. There’s one stop in Dallas, and the layover should only last an hour or so. She was punctual for the flight, giving us ample time to get through TSA and board the plane. Everything is going according to plan.
“I’ve never flown business class before.” She presses a finger to her lips, as if silently asking me to keep her secret. “I thought it was a myth. First-class is definitely a myth, right?”
Some people in my position would go for a first-class flight. There are even some who would fly private, but that’s never been my style. I’ve even flown economy in the last year, and I remember vividly how uncomfortable it is.
Business is a fine step up.
“Your brother has flown business—and first-class, probably,” I say. “You know it’s not a myth.”
She shakes her head and turns away from me, looking out at the blue sky and fluffy clouds. “Everett has been known to lie. His word means nothing to me.”
“You’re here now. Not a myth. This is real, Evie.” I pinch her arm. “Come back to Earth.”
“Hey!” She giggles, carefree in a way I’ve never seen. “How am I supposed to do that when I’m so high up?”
Her happiness only lasts a moment.
The plane jerks. A wave of turbulence hits, as it tends to on departure. I fly often enough to be used to the shaking and rattling, but that doesn’t stop how my heart thumps in my chest.
Every damn time.
The look on Evie’s face is what alarms me. Her eyes grow wide, her head snapping from the window to meet my gaze with one of pure fear. “What’s happening?” she breathes.
“Nothing. It’s just turbulence.”
Her hand reaches for mine, and before I know what I’m doing, I reach back, my fingers curling around hers. She holds onto me tight, her knuckles white.
“You have flown before, right?” I murmur. It’s a silly question. I know she flew from Ohio to San Diego all by herself.
She nods. “I just… hate this part.”
It makes sense that Evie has traveled less than I have and far less than her brother. He was constantly zipping around for surf competitions, and even now, he flies off to judge them.
I stroke my thumb against the back of her hand and don’t stop until the turbulence is over. It’s quick, nothing to worry about, and we’re on smooth sailing through the sky. Evie is rigid beside me, her fingers gripping mine so hard it hurts.
“You’re okay,” I say. “It’s all over.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.” The corner of my lip tugs up. “Would it help you if I get into the science behind turbulence? We have another flight to go.”
“Maybe…”
“It’s usually caused by wind. Turbulence like that is mild. When the wind speeds change, it makes it a little bumpy. I think that’s the case this time. That’s all.”
“Oh.” She lets go of my hand, and I pull my fingers from her grip. “Okay. This is fine. I’m fine, and we’re fine. I’m so sorry for freaking out.”
“It’s alright. Don’t apologize.”
“No, it’s silly. I flew to San Diego alone, and now…” She shakes her head.
“The good news is that this first flight is shorter. We’ll be on the ground in no time, and we’ll be fine.”
“Yeah.” She looks at me from the corner of her eye, smiling softly. “We’ll be fine.”
I don’t know if I will. The pressure from her fingers still feels like a ghost on mine, and I can’t shake off what happened. It was for her comfort. I never would have been the one reaching for her, but I’m torn.
What would Everett say if he knew I held his sister’s hand? Maybe he would be happy that I’m keeping her safe, but somehow, I doubt it.
She does seem safer now. That’s what matters. Evie is back to looking out the window, with her hands on her lap.
My fingers twitch.
I’m the problem—the one who wants to touch her, hold her, keep her safe. I’m the one who wants more when I can’t have it. We’re stuck on a flight for half a day, closer than ever, and completely alone. How could this get any worse?
We land in Dallas. There’s no more turbulence and no more handholding. That’s a good thing, but my fingers feel empty the rest of the flight. I clutch my carry-on while we glide through the airport, taking comfort in the rough canvas beneath my fingers.
“Um… Theo?” The uncertainty in Evie’s voice captures my attention.
She bounced back right after the turbulence and spent the flight talking to me about various things—complaining about the snacks they offered, telling me about the reality show she was watching, and talking about the only time she’d ever visited Dallas.
She didn’t like it last time, but it’s not like we’ll be hanging around the city for long. We have other places to be.
Now, she sounds worried again, and I stop myself from groaning. Everything is going right; she planned it all perfectly. Why do I feel like something is about to go wrong?
That’s how my luck goes. I try to do something good, but a million tiny things get in the way.
“Our flight was delayed.” She stares at her phone, her head ducked low. “For ten hours.”
Dammit.
I check the time on my phone. Freaking out isn’t my style. I’m an action-oriented man, and there must be something we can do in this situation. What are the options?
It’s already the middle of the night. I look outside, taking in the night through the window, and consider our options. We can either sit around the airport for half a day or stay in a hotel for the night.
“That’s fine,” I grunt. “Not like we can’t afford a hotel, right?”
She nods. “Right.”
If I were alone, I would bunker in the airport; I’ve done it before. Evie’s comfort matters to me, even if it’s only for ten hours.
“Can you find us a room for the night?” I ask, stopping by the first food stand we pass. Greasy fast food should be enough to cure our stress. At least, it will knock one thing off the to-do list. “One room with two beds is fine. It’s just for a night.”
She perks up. “You got it.”
We’ll have to get used to being close to each other. Our cabin will be small, and even though we have our own rooms, we’ll be sharing a bathroom, a living space, and a kitchen. I’ve been in close quarters with employees, both my assistants and others, and it’s not supposed to be a big deal.
Why the hell am I making a big deal of it?
Traveling puts me in a bad mood. That’s the truth. We haven’t even been on the long flight, but I’m grumpier than I would like as we load into a car and catch a ride to the nearest hotel with decent reviews.
Traffic is hellish, too. It’s more travel for me to endure, and poor Evie has to deal with my sour attitude.
“What’s going on?” I ask the driver, flashing him a good-natured smile. “Is there a pop star in town?”
“Not quite,” he says. “Convention. Some comic book thing.”
“Great.”
That means the hotels will be packed, too—no wonder Evie struggled to find us a room. I groan and lean back in my seat, closing my eyes. The coffee I had at the airport should keep me awake, but it won’t.
“This is a blessing in disguise,” I mutter. “I’m terrible at sleeping on planes, so… I can get a couple of hours of sleep in the hotel.”
“If we ever make it there,” Evie whispers.
I chuckle. “Yeah. That’s starting to feel like a high hope. We may have to turn right back around.”
“I’m sure it won’t come to that.”
And it doesn’t. Evie’s high hopes come true, even if I struggle to match her optimism. The hotel doesn’t do anything to excite me, but I’ve stayed in worse places.
It’s clean. We’ll have two beds. That’s all that matters.
Evie passes me the key, and we amble upstairs, stuck in the elevator with a couple dressed like comic book characters. If I were in a better mood, I would probably joke around with them, but as it is… there’s silence. Nothing but silence.
When we enter the room, I groan, kick my shoes off, and drop my bag on the floor. “Apologies in advance. I won’t be the best company tonight. I’m showering, and then I’m—”
I cut myself off, stopping in the middle of the tiny room. There’s barely any walking room between the desk, mini fridge, and bed. The appliances look straight out of the 90s, but there’s no way they are. A microwave can’t live that long, can it?
The room’s size and ugly appliances aren’t the problem. I can even look past the generic paintings and the Bible on the wooden bedside table. No, there’s a bigger issue—one big, red, king-sized issue in the middle of the room.
Evie realizes the dilemma before I do.
When I turn to face her, her fingers twist together, and the look of fear returns. God, she tugs at my heartstrings when she looks at me like that, her big blue eyes begging for forgiveness.
I’m not the type to get angry at my employees, but the slightest tinge of frustration rises, only to melt away. How could anyone be mad at her when she looks like that? It’s not like it’s her fault.
“I’m so sorry!” she squeaks. “I booked a room with two beds—like you asked—I swear. But there must have been a mix-up. I’ll go talk to them.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. These things happen.”
“No, they don’t. They shouldn’t happen. This is my first trip with you, and I’m still so new. I should have done better.”
I recognize a spiral when I see one, and it’s crucial to stop it before it gets out of control. Stepping closer, I place my hands on her shoulders, hoping to ground her.
“Evie. Trust me, these things happen. They’ve happened to me, my past assistant, and even your brother. This happens to everyone.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You’re so pissed at me.”
“I’m not.”
Her shoulders relax. “Promise?”
“I promise.” I let my hands drop. “You stay here. I’ll ask them if we can move rooms or have an extra cot sent up. Relax. Take a shower. Get in bed. Deal?”
She hesitates.