1. Hope
1
HOPE
September 2024
T wo dings had me looking up from the magazine I’d been reading.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the captain’s voice came over the PA system. “We will begin our descent into Westport now. Please turn off all portable electronic devices and stow them until we have arrived at the gate.”
As he carried on about straightening seat backs and securing carry-on items, I closed the magazine and stuffed it into my purse so I could peer out the minuscule window beside me.
Ten more minutes, and we’d be back on land again. I could not wait.
My stomach dipped as the airplane began to nose its way toward Earth. Swallowing thickly, I squeezed my hands around the strap of my purse as I pressed my back more firmly into my seat, bracing against the sickened feeling that came over me.
God, I hated flying.
But I’d wanted to come home more, so here I was.
When the plane jerked suddenly, hitting turbulence, I clenched my teeth through a quiet moan and squeezed my purse strap harder.
“Not a fan, huh?” the man next to me asked, noticing my distress.
I sent him a tight smile that I hoped conveyed that I was not open for conversation. The handsy asshole had managed to touch my bare leg four times in the past hour alone since he’d boarded with us on my second layover in Houston. And he had to be fifteen to twenty years older than me, which made it even more ick.
Note to self: never wear shorts on a plane again.
I’d been traveling for over seven hours, and the last thing I was in the mood to do was fend off Mr. Ancient, Over-Amorous Octopus Hands.
He chuckled at my response and patted my thigh, higher than ever. “Don’t worry, little lady. That was just a tiny air pocket. We’re good.”
Little lady? Was he serious?
Staring straight ahead, I endeavored to ignore him, hoping he wasn’t going to now tell me about the most frightening experience he’d had on a plane—the way pretty much everyone else did when they learned how much I loathed flying.
“Hell, a couple of years back,” he started with a nostalgic sigh. “I was on this one flight where the wheel refused to come down before landing?—”
Oh, for the love of Pete.
“Could you not ?” I broke in with a glare.
I mean, Jesus. I was already freaking out about everything else; now I had a damn retracting wheel to stress over too?
Thanks a lot, jerk-off.
The man sent me a startled glance. “Damn, darlin’.” He whistled and leaned away to put more space between us as if I were the problem. Freaking gaslighter. “I was just trying to distract you from your fears with a little conversation.”
“By telling a girl who’s scared to death of flying more scary flying stories…while we’re on a plane?” I countered. “Yeah, I’m so sorry for offending you by asking you to stop.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned to peer out the window, only to grit my teeth at the sight of buildings and streets below growing larger and closer.
Please don’t crash into any of them, plane. Please.
On my other side, my seatmate hissed in rejection. “Fuck,” he grumbled under his breath. “You’re a prickly little bitch, ain’t ya?”
Buddy, you don’t even know the half of it , I wanted to warn him. But I was too busy ignoring him so he wouldn’t feel the need to touch me again.
Just five more minutes of this, and then we’d be back on land again. Only five more minutes.
Thankfully, Mr. Hands got the point and left me alone, sniffing acerbically as he pointedly turned away.
And the seconds ticked by in the slowest, most uncomfortable increments of time ever. I watched with dread as the landing strip came into view.
Please be down, wheels. Please be down.
The first touchdown jolt made me whimper a sound that was part relief, part fear.
The jackass beside me snickered, enjoying my misery.
But I kept ignoring him, staring straight ahead with the back of my head plastered to my seat and my hands probably permanently fused to the strap of my purse by now.
When the back wheels followed and we were finally, one hundred percent on the ground, I exhaled slowly and looked out my window again.
Home .
God, it felt good to be back.
I’d been fifteen when my mother had moved us to Akron with her new husband and his kids. But I used to return every summer to stay with my half brother and his mom. Except my last visit hadn’t been since Alec’s high school graduation.
Sixteen months had passed where I hadn’t gotten to see him or the beach or all the brown and gold horse statues that Westport was so famous for hosting.
Now, my baby brother was a big university man, living away from home with a handful of roommates, already weeks into his second year of college.
I was so damn proud of him. I couldn’t wait to see him again.
As soon as we were told we could turn our devices off airplane mode, I tugged my phone from my purse and logged into a group chat that I hadn’t used since organizing Alec’s graduation party.
Addressing all six recipients—none of which were my brother—I wrote two simple words that I knew would strike immediate fear into their hearts.
Howdy, boys.
I’m back…
No one responded.
Very typical.
I shivered in pleasure, already picturing the panic and alarm they must feel crawling up the backs of their necks as they beheld my greeting, wondering what she must want now since I only ever contacted them whenever I needed a favor.
They knew one of them would get stuck assisting Alec’s dreaded sister. And no one wanted to be the first to reply, well aware he’d be the unlucky bastard who got drafted into my services.
But it was just so freaking amusing how little ol’ Hope could scare six grown-ass men the way I did. It always inspired me to bother them just a little bit more every time I visited.
So I’m in town to treat Alec to a surprise visit. Who wants to pick me up from the airport?
Keene was the first to reply within two seconds flat.
Not it.
Foster chimed in next, claiming,
Sorry, Hope. I’m at practice.
The football star had a legitimate out; I guess I’d forgive him.
Thane came in third, telling me he was working right now, followed closely by Hudson, who said he was on his way to work.
After that, Damien wrote a simple,
In class.
That made five replies, all within thirty seconds to tell me how they were too busy to make time for harmless Hope.
Which meant there was only one guy left for me to count on.
As the plane taxied down the runway, I got more comfortable in my seat and gave number six another two minutes to reply before I started to poke.
Oh, Grumpy…
There. That ought to prod him out of his bear cave.
And what do you know; within moments, he answered.
I just don’t want to.
With a chuckle, I glanced up, only to find my seatmate scowling at me in confusion.
My smile fell, remembering he and I were not friends, and I returned my attention to the screen of my phone, only to get another kick out of Parker’s text.
He’d always been the catty one and therefore the most fun to spar with.
Rolling my neck to mentally prepare for our battle, I ran my tongue over my teeth, then set my fingers back to the screen to deliver my next jab.
Then how do you expect me to get from the airport to Alec? I haven’t seen my baby brother in over a year. Sixteen MONTHS to be exact, Grumpy. He’s probably seven feet tall by now.
Get a rideshare.
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Typical Parker.
In this town? I don’t think so. Didn’t one of you nearly lose a girlfriend a few months back due to a rideshare? And besides, have you not heard how common it is for a single, young woman traveling alone to get kidnapped, raped, and killed by climbing into cars with complete strangers?
If only. After five minutes of listening to YOUR mouth, they’d pay us to take you back.
There he was: my merciless, go-for-the-throat Parker. I had been expecting a below-the-belt roundhouse exactly like this one, so I wasn’t too shocked to receive it.
To be honest, I’d bated him into it on purpose, just so?—
Parker!
There.
So Thane would pipe up with a quick scolding and basically kowtow him into behaving and doing whatever I wanted.
God, I was so good at this.
I smiled with glee, glad my evil plan was working accordingly. Knowing Thane’s one-word text was the knockout blow I needed, I tapped my fingers on my knee and waited two more seconds before Parker admitted defeat.
Fuck. Fine. I’ll be there in an hour.
Bobbing in my seat with triumph, I composed a quick retort, you know, just to rub my victory in his face.
Could you make it thirty minutes, please? There’s a creepy fucker next to me who won’t stop touching my leg.
“Hey!” the creepy fucker next to me cried in offense.
I glanced up, surprised. “Are you reading my texts?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I never touched your leg.”
Lifting my brows knowingly, I sniffed before bowing my face to type,
And he’s a lying asshole who’s reading this over my shoulder as I type too. I’ll probably be cut into tiny, little pieces and deposited in his trunk if you wait?—
I never intended to actually send that one, just prove to the perv that he was indeed being creepy by reading my private conversation.
But with an outraged growl, he slapped the phone clear out of my hands. “Stop talking about me.”
The woman sitting on the other side of him glanced over in alarm.
Pulling an AirPod from one ear, she demanded, “Dude. Did you just slap her phone from her hand?”
“I—she—” His face turned a bright, angry red, and words failed him.
“Mature,” I told him dryly as I clicked off my seat belt and slid down onto the floorboard to retrieve my device, glad I had a sturdy case.
The woman continued to gape at the man as if he were Satan while he fumbled out his defense, knowing he couldn’t say any rebuttal good enough to prove he wasn’t an asshole.
It was awesome.
From the speakers, they announced that people could begin to disembark. So both the man and woman in my row stood, in a hurry to leave.
I remained where I was, knowing it’d be a while. Parker would probably dawdle for two hours now that I’d demanded he put a rush on it, so I had plenty of time.
After the woman fetched her overhead, the man sent me one last scathing glower. I said nothing, just watched him reach up and grab his bag. I knew he’d pushed mine further back to make it harder for me to reach when he glanced at me with a malicious smirk.
I sighed dismally, not at all shocked, and just stared at him dryly, glad I’d never have to deal with him again.
Until I reached the luggage claim ten minutes later, where my entire flight was gathered, waiting for the conveyor belt to spit out some results. After glancing around, I inadvertently made eye contact with the creep, and he sneered in return.
Heaving out a deep breath, I found a big pillar to lean against, stationed away from the rest where I could mind my own business and plan everything I wanted to do now that I was home.
The first stop was definitely Alec. Then I seriously needed some of Westport’s famous Froyo. And from there, the beach.
Oh yeah, I needed a big dose of sun and sand.
When the luggage finally arrived another ten minutes later, I was in no hurry to fetch my things, so I held back, letting everyone else go ahead of me.
As soon as the path cleared, however, I stepped forward.
My lovely seatmate was still pulling a spinner from the checked bags, and by the way he was turned, I assumed he’d go right from there and carry on in that direction.
But as the wheels of his hardshell hit the floor, he swiveled left, directly into my path instead.
We collided hard, and I went tumbling backward, landing on my ass and causing my purse and carry-on to tumble to the floor around me.
“Shit, I’m—” He started to apologize, his eyes wide, until he realized it was me he’d knocked over.
As I collected my fallen phone and magazine, shoving them back into my purse, he narrowed his eyes and sniffed. “I should’ve known it’d be you .”
Ignoring his hateful tone, I picked myself up and brushed myself off, muttering a sarcastic, “I’m fine. No need to worry.”
“I wasn’t,” he assured bitterly and started to walk past, only to pause. “You know, I tried to be nice to you.”
“No,” I countered calmly. “You tried to feel me up when I was trapped next to you on a plane and couldn’t get away. Then, you tried to convince me how brave and wonderful you were by feeding me stories that would hopefully scare me into clinging to you for support, only to then turn it around and make me out as the villain when I didn’t fall for it. You were not nice.”
“Gah.” He hissed out a breath and shook his head in disgust. “You really are a bitch.”
I only smiled. “But at least I’m not you.”
He growled ominously, and I started to wonder if I’d crossed the line—would he become physically violent now? He’d already proven he could be by knocking my phone from my hands.
But thankfully, he only called me one last parting name, confusing me for a female body part instead of a full person, and he stalked off, making sure he rammed his shoulder into mine painfully as he passed.
I exhaled with a hiss and grabbed my arm that was definitely going to bruise, glad he hadn’t dislocated the joint at least.
Then, relieved he was gone, I reached for my first piece of checked luggage, only to hear a familiar voice from behind me drone, “Jesus, Trouble. You just make friends everywhere you go, don’t you?”