9. Killian
KILLIAN
Isettle into my seat, keeping my eyes on the redheaded beauty as she continues with her pre-flight routine.
She’s professional and efficient, completely focused on her job as the rest of the team boards the plane.
She catches me watching her from the front galley and narrows her eyes.
I grin, and when she mouths, “Don’t,” I grin even wider and laugh silently to myself.
Fuck me, this is already my favorite relationship.
I mean fake relationship. Whatever. Same difference.
The second she reaches my row, I smile. "Hey."
She doesn't stop walking. "Hello, Killian."
"How's your day going?"
She pauses and slowly turns. "Are you making small talk?"
I shrug my shoulders and smile at her. "I can stop if you're uncomfortable."
"With you? I think I’m always uncomfortable."
"Good. We're both having fun then."
She shakes her head and continues down the aisle, so I wait approximately thirty seconds before speaking again.
"Hey Coach?"
A groan comes from somewhere behind me, but from the front of the plane, Coach Daniels, my pitching coach, turns around. “Haynes. What do you need?”
I hitch my thumb behind me. “Oh, sorry. I was talking to Miss Fallon back here. I call her Coach since she so shamelessly razzes me when I’m on the mound.”
Coach Daniels laughs and calls back, “Good. Someone needs to put you in your place from time to time.” He turns back around in his seat and I look back toward the galley where Isla is staring at me.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Haynes?" she calls.
"What's your favorite candy?"
There's a pause as some of the guys lift their heads, wondering why I would ask her that. Even she scowls before answering, "Why?"
"Research."
"Research for what?"
"I don't know yet."
Brock leans over the seat in front of him. "That's actually kind of smooth."
I wink at him. "Thank you."
"It really wasn't," Isla says, only an aisle behind me now. She licks her lips and looks me over before she answers, “And M&Ms are my favorite candy.”
“Good to know. Thank you.”
Once we're at cruising altitude, she and Padrick work their way down the aisle with the drink cart. I watch her from my row, the way she moves through the cabin like she owns it, unhurried, a little untouchable. When she finally reaches me, I give her my best smile.
"I'll take a Coke, please."
"One Coke coming up." She doesn't look at me when she says it.
"And your favorite movie."
She stops and blinks at me slowly, like a cat deciding whether something is worth its time. "Nope. Coke or movie. Pick one."
"What? Why not both?"
"Because I'm offering you one or the other."
I sigh. "Alright. Coke, please."
"Excellent choice." She hands me the drink and her fingertips graze mine as the can changes hands, brief and probably accidental, but I notice it.
"Now, what's your favorite movie?"
She laughs, low and a little exasperated, shaking her head. "Why are you like this?"
"Call it natural talent."
"That's your natural talent?" She tsks, clicking her tongue once. "That is most unfortunate."
Bishop starts laughing behind me. Across the aisle, Layton lowers his phone an inch.
"Come on, everyone has a favorite movie."
She shifts her weight to one hip and tilts her head, studying me. "Then what's yours?"
I scoff. “Field of Dreams, duh.”
Bishop cackles. “Lying ass. Tell her what it really is.”
“It really is Field of Dreams, dumbass. You know…’If you build it they will come’…and shoeless Joe Jackson...Kevin Costner, James Earl Jones. It’s a classic. What’s not to like?”
“Fair, but it’s absolutely not your favorite movie and you know it.” Hop laughs again and I swear to God I want to pound my brother into the ground right about now. Sometimes I hate that I can’t have any secrets when he’s around.
Isla crosses her arms over her chest. “Why do I get the feeling your favorite movie is something like Mean Girls or Clueless.”
“Or High School Musical,” Layton snickers.
I reach over the aisle and point my finger in his face. “Hey. Can you play basketball and sing like Zac Efron at the same time? No. No, you can’t. So, let’s not disrespect the pretty boy with the sick voice, alright?”
Bishop leans forward, a wicked smirk on his face as he tells everyone around us, “Though let’s be honest, when our high school performed that musical back in the day, Kill was the star of the show and knew every word.”
“You are the biggest ass-butt of all time, you know that?”
He laughs. “I know bro.” His playful eyes practically light up. “I’m inconceivable.”
Isla gasps next to me. “Oh my gosh! Killian Haynes, is The Princess Bride your favorite movie?”
It’s so fucking good.
The sword fights.
The true love.
The comedic timing.
Ah, what’s not to love?
Isla's eyebrows shoot up when I don’t answer her right away. "It is, isn’t it? Come on. Be honest."
"What? It's a classic," I defend myself with a careless shrug. "Great sword fights, witty dialogue, romance that doesn't make me want to gouge my eyes out."
"Romance?" She teases. "I didn't take you for a romantic, Haynes."
"I’m not. But if I was, it would be because I have layers," I say, giving her my best smolder. "Like an onion."
"Or an ogre," she counters.
I grin. "You know what? I'll take that as a compliment. Shrek's the man as well."
She laughs, and the sound does something weird to my chest. "Still waiting for your favorite movie," I remind her.
She leans against the drink cart, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "The Goonies."
"Seriously?" I can't help but smile. "The Goonies?"
“Yeah. It was one of my dad’s favorites. We watched it all the time." She straightens up, pushing the cart forward. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other passengers to attend to."
I catch the scent of strawberries again, and I have to fight the urge to reach out and touch her. “As you wish.”
She smiles as she moves past me and I settle back in my seat, a strange warmth spreading through my chest.
Bishop leans forward, his voice low. "Dude, what are you doing?"
"Nothing. Why?”
“That…” he says, gesturing ahead of us toward Isla. “Is not nothing.”
“What? I’m just making conversation," I say innocently.
He snorts. "Conversation my ass. You're flirting. With the flight attendant. In front of everyone."
I shrug. "So?"
"So, you never flirt with flight attendants. At least, not where people can see you." His eyes narrow. "What's going on?"
"Nothing's going on. And our last flight attendant was literally pregnant with another man’s baby. Why would I flirt with her? And Padrick is…well, Padrick. I love the guy but I don’t swing that way." I take a sip of my Coke, avoiding his gaze.
“Bishop's right.” Carter’s voice drops even lower. "You've been different since she showed up. More relaxed. And you’re actually smiling."
I shift in my seat. "Maybe I'm just in a good mood."
"Kill, you haven't been in a good mood since the season started,” my brother reminds me.
"Maybe I'm just tired of being miserable," I snap, immediately regretting my tone when Bishop's expression shifts from teasing to concern.
"Hey, I'm not trying to give you shit," he says, his voice softer now. "I'm just... surprised. In a good way."
I nod, taking another sip of my Coke. "Yeah, well. Don't get used to it."
"Too late," he grins, settling back in his seat. "I'm already planning your wedding."
"Fuck off," I mutter, but there's no heat behind it.
As the flight continues, I find myself watching Isla more than I should. There's something magnetic about her, something that makes it impossible for me to look away.
When she comes around with the snack cart, I'm ready for her.
Her eyes narrow the minute she looks at me. "No."
"I didn't even ask anything yet."
"Whatever it is, no."
The guys nearby are openly listening now. "That's hurtful."
"Mr. Haynes, you're exhausting."
"It’s Killian. Mr. Haynes is my dad, and I've been told I'm charming."
"Not by me."
I press my hand dramatically to my chest. "You wound me."
"Yet somehow you keep surviving." By now she's fighting a smile.
The team notices.
I notice.
Everyone notices.
And that's exactly the point.
It’s not enough to make anyone suspicious but just enough that they're paying attention.
When she stops beside my row one last time before she prepares for landing, I glance up at her. "Hey, Isla?"
She points a warning finger at me. "Be careful."
I grin. "Have dinner with me."
The plane goes quiet, just enough for everyone to stop what they’re doing and stare at the two of us in the middle of the plane.
Isla watches me for a moment too. It’s just long enough to make it look real and long enough to make the guys wonder what she’s going to say. And then she folds her arms.
"Are you asking me out, Haynes?"
I shrug. "Depends."
"On what?"
"Whether you're saying yes."
The smile she fights almost wins.
Almost.
Then she shakes her head with a cute little half grin and says, "Ask me again when I'm not working." And then she keeps walking.
The second she's gone, Brock points at me, and Bishop whispers, “What the fuck”, and Layton beams like a kid in a candy store.
"Dude. You just…you…did you hear yourself?”
“What?”
“You just asked her out.”
“Yeah. So?”
“He likes her,” Carter announces quietly. “I think Killian…likes her. Like, he likes her, likes her."
And for the first time all flight...I don't correct them.
The next evening, I'm standing outside Isla's apartment building, checking my reflection in my phone screen for the third time.
I've chosen a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up, dark jeans, and my favorite leather jacket.
Casual enough to not look like I'm trying too hard, but put together enough that if someone snaps a photo, I won't look like a slob.
I check my watch and see that I’m five minutes early.
Perfect timing.
When Isla appears at the door, my breath catches in my throat. She's wearing a simple green dress that brings out the color of her eyes, and her bright red locks fall in loose waves around her shoulders. The dress hugs her curves in all the right places, and I suddenly feel underdressed.