Chapter 10
HANNAH
A few weeks later, I’m on a plane heading to New York.
We have a five-hour layover before we board the jet flying us to Paris.
My maid of honor dress is a simple black gown, making me love my bestie all the more.
She didn’t torture me with a pink, puffy dress.
I should be thankful; except, she stuffed me into a small jet with her brother.
Moussed dark hair, navy color sweater, and that sexy smile that I have to fight to ignore every second I see him.
I was hoping her parents would join us. No such luck.
Alex told me they’re already in France, helping June with the wedding.
Her other two brothers flew over last weekend.
Jeannette and her wife are flying from Spain.
“Why didn’t you fly out earlier with your brothers?” I ask, once we take off.
“Sorry, are you talking to me?”
“It’s a simple question.”
“Should I remind you that a couple of minutes ago, you asked me to stay at least ten feet away from you during this trip.”
“It’s an almost six-hour flight,” I say.
“You’re one of those, aren’t you?”
“Those?”
“You can’t stand the silence.”
I show him my book, my notebook, and my tablet.
“Again, it’s a question. If you must know, I can entertain myself for hours.
My mom wasn’t very motherly. I learned at an early age that hiding in my room with a book was better than interacting with her.
When I traveled with my father, I had to make sure I was quiet during rehearsals and sound checks. ”
He nods and turns back to his phone. A second later, he looks at me again. “Wait, rehearsals and sound checks? Your dad is in the music industry?”
Even though I’ve known him for a couple of years, we never talk much about my life. I know a lot of things about him.
He drinks shakes in the morning before working out and then has a hearty breakfast. He’s pescatarian but still enjoys a good steak. And Mongolian beef. I think we know more about each other’s taste in music, favorite food, and hobbies than our personal life.
The advantage I have over him is June. I know about his family life because of her. If not, I’d be just as in the dark about him as he is about me.
“Yeah, something like that,” I say casually and place my earbuds in place. “Enjoy the flight.”
I feel his eyes on me while we’re taking off, but I ignore him.
He goes to the flight attendant, asking about something.
I tune him out. Nothing good can come from having a long conversation with him.
My goal this weekend is to finish all the work I brought with me and focus on my friend.
If I can avoid Alex for the next few days, I’ll be gold.
He’s been invading my dreams and that’s not good. Hopefully, when we get to Paris, he’ll hook up with someone and leave me alone.
June’s the most discreet person I’ve known. I’m grateful that she hasn’t mentioned to her brother who I am. Not that it’d be hard to figure it out if he digs a little more. That’s the problem with being a celebrity, you can only keep your life private and away from others for so long.
Turning on the music, I focus on the articles Ethan sent me for review. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover for this Valentine’s Day weekend issue—and we’re both out of the country.
I’m not sure how much time passes between the moment we take off and when the flight attendant approaches us to ask what we want to drink. I order water, and once she leaves, I hear Alex say, “You are music royalty.”
Closing my eyes for a moment, I grunt. “Sorta. Did you call your sister to ask about it?”
“No, I googled you. Your dad is famous and you…”
“Don’t believe everything you read,” I advise. “In fact, stop reading.”
“Those guys at the event…” He pauses. “Seattle Sinners?”
“Sinners of Seattle,” I correct him, grinding my teeth.
He smirks. I growl because I hate when he teases me.
The flight attendant sets the water on the working table in front of me before asking, “Would you like anything to eat?”
“No, but thank you,” I respond, going back to work.
“Just what I pre-ordered when I booked the charter. Please, make sure you bring her the chicken noodle soup,” he tells the flight attendant.
I want to hate him for being nice and looking after me. For knowing that I love chicken noodle soup and there’s no way I’d turn it down. This is what this guy does to me.
“It’s hard to be in the public eye,” Alex says. “You’ve got it rough.”
I shake my head and groan. “Your next move is trying to bond because you think we’re the same. Leave this alone.”
“We can be friends,” he suggests, but his bedroom voice is not convincing at all.
“I have plenty of those, thank you for the offer, though,” I answer.
“Look, I know the first time I was an ass, and I apologized for it,” he says. “It was…you’re the first woman I was with after the accident, okay?”
He was an ass, and he hurt me, but I won’t tell him that because it doesn’t matter. “I don’t care.”
“You still care because you still hate me for it,” he says. “I apologized a million times. What else do you need from me?”
“It’s water under the bridge. Save your lines, I’m not falling for your charm.” Anymore. “No matter what you say, we’re not going back to what we used to have. It’s not good for either one of us. You can continue with your string of one-night stands.”
He blinks twice and crosses his arms. “Care to give me a better explanation, professor? Why is it no good for us?”
“For starters, June is my best friend,” I explain. “It’ll be awkward to see you again during the kids’ Christening or any other event. There’s my New Year’s resolution, too.”
“The men embargo,” he states and smirks. “Are you forgetting about the Februarius resolution? You’re in Paris.”
I glare at him. “How do you know?”
He taps my laptop. Well, the logo of the magazine. “How many times do I have to tell you, I’m an avid reader. So why Bell? Is that your penname?”
I shake my head.
“Of course, you named yourself after Tinkerbell,” he says amused.
“My stepmom’s maiden name is Bell. I’ve been Hannah Hades-Bell since I was sixteen,” I say casually.
He doesn't need to know more about the last name. It’s mostly to keep the press and my mother away. “Your stalkery personality has no limits.”
“Sweetheart, I have to find a way to continue what we have. You can’t ignore the fire we create when we’re together.”
“See, that right there is an issue. You’re handling this as more than sex already.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Those are lines, Hannah. Don’t confuse my attraction to you with feelings. I don’t get attached.”
I know.
I reach for my backpack and take out my noise-canceling earbuds. He’s right about the flame, and I know what happens when you play with fire. I’d be lying if I tell him that I don’t want him to burn me. I miss him. There’re so many places on this plane where we could get naked and just do it.
But we are never easy. It’s never a one-time thing.
He’d want more time; I’d demand his heart.
Neither one of us is willing to concede to what the other wants.
It’s not worth it. All I know is that every time we’re together, we hurt each other.
At least, one of us always gets burnt. We have to stop this cycle.
I live a simple life, and that’s exactly how it’ll remain.
“It’s nothing personal,” I say. “I have a lot of work. If you’re that desperate, I’m sure you can find someone in Paris to keep you entertained during the weekend. It certainly won’t be me.”
I deserve a Nobel Prize or something similar. This is not just a sacrifice, but also a peace treaty. There won’t be war between the two of us. That part is also over.