I sit back quickly, glaring at Juls and Joey with panicked eyes. Juls turns and plants her butt down in her seat while Joey stands and excuses himself across the aisle.
Reese places his hand on my leg. “Everything okay?”
“Hmm mmm.” I slide my hand underneath his, interlocking our fingers. “Do you want to have kids?” The words cascade out of my mouth like the scalding coffee did earlier, surprising us both in the process. Shit, Dylan. Way to just blurt it out. I drop my head against the seat, feeling my hand tighten against his and my breathing become slightly restricted.
He tilts his head, leaning closer to me. “With you? I’ve thought about it.”
“Yeah?”
He nods, his lip twitching in the corner. “Yeah.” Before I can pry anymore, he brings his free hand across his body and places it flat against my stomach. I stop breathing all together as I watch his eyes go to my belly. “I want to mark this, too.” I feel his palm slide across my shirt, applying the tiniest amount of pressure. He’s studying his hand on my belly like he always studies me, with pronounced focus. Like nothing could pull him out of his moment.
“Shit. He couldn’t stay here,” Juls grumbles in front of us.
My eyes lift and land on Bryce as he walks down the middle aisle. I immediately tense and Reese feels it. The hand on my belly is removed, and he brings our conjoined hands to his lap. I take my eyes off Bryce and watch as Reese sits back in his seat, his chest rising with a deep inhale. He’s radiating with an unspoken threat, and I know Bryce feels it. I can see the apprehension in his eyes as he approaches our row. He tries to hide it, but it’s there. And it should be; Reese could easily snap this asshole in half.
He doesn’t say anything to us, but I see the shift in his expression, the moment he grows balls as he walks up to our row. All uneasiness fades and I immediately recognize the Bryce who came into my shop that day. The one who stared at me as I kissed Reese goodbye outside the conference meeting. The one who bought me the drink last night.
The fucker who thinks he actually has a shot.
“I’m sorry,” Reese says to me as Bryce moves past our row to the back of the plane. I look at him with confusion and he shakes his head with a heavy sigh. “I didn’t know he was going to be on this flight. I thought he was staying here for a few more days.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I don’t like him around you.”
I place my free hand on his forearm. “Reese, it’s fine. Really.” My voice is full of conviction, and I see it working on his suddenly-geared-up state. He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it just as Brooke walks past him and stops in front of Ian.
“That guy is a total douche-canoe.” Her eyes meet mine as I hold my breath.
Don’t say it. Please, God, don’t say it.
“Seriously, Dylan. Good on you for throwing your drink in his face last night.”
Fuuccckkkkkk.
“Sit your ass down,” Juls growls, reaching out for her sister and yanking her into the row. Brooke yelps as she tumbles over Ian, claiming her seat next to Juls.
I clamp my eyes shut, preparing myself for what could quite possibly ground this airplane. I don’t need to look at Reese to know that he is fuming right now. I can sense it in the air.
“Dylan, what the fuck is she talking about?”
Maybe if I jump out the emergency exit, he won’t follow me. That might be my best option here. Or I could punch myself in the face and pray for unconsciousness.
“Dylan, answer me.”
His voice is so commanding, my body submits without a fight. I’m immediately turned toward him and grabbing both his hands, pulling them into my lap. “He was at the club we went to last night. We didn’t know he was there until he bought me a drink and when that happened, I threw it in his face. He ran his mouth a little and then we left. That’s all that happened, I swear.”
His chest rises several times, heaving with fury. “He saw you in that dress.” He pulls his hands out of mine and settles back into his seat. He’s rigid, every muscle flexed as he struggles to keep himself seated. I know he wants to run to the back of the plane. I know he wants to beat the shit out of Bryce. And I know, by the way he isn’t touching me, that I’m in deep shit for keeping this information from him.
Goddamn that dress. It’s really screwing me left and right.