He looked at the markings on the door, then reached forward for the safety card while the attendant informed the cabin that it was a nonsmoking flight. Had to admit, that only made him cuter.
Nate read while the attendant finished out her announcements and closed the door. My heart rate spiked, the anxiety hitting me right on time. I fumbled with my phone and checked my Instagram and Twitter, then put my device on airplane mode, slipped it into the front pocket of my vest, and zipped the pocket. When my throat went tight, I adjusted the air above me, putting it on max.
Nate put the safety card back into the seat in front of him and settled in, watching what activity there was to see on the ground. The fog was dense this morning, already delaying us twenty minutes.
“Don’t forget your phone,” I said just before the attendant said the same over the intercom. “It has to be on airplane mode.”
“Don’t have a phone, so I’m good there.” He flashed me a smile, then winced, running his tongue over the split in his lip.
“What happened there?” I motioned to my own lip. “If you don’t mind me asking this time.”
His smile fell. “I had a slight disagreement with someone. It’s a long story.” He reached for the seat in front of him and took out a paperback from the pocket—Into Thin Air, by Jon Krakauer.
He was a reader? This guy just kept getting hotter.
I took the hint and retrieved my own book out of my purse, flipping to the bookmark in the middle of chapter eleven of Jennifer L. Armentrout’s Half-Blood.
“Flight attendants, please prepare for gate departure,” a deeper voice said over the PA.
“Is that any good?” Nate asked as the plane backed out of the gate.
“I love it. Though it looks like you might be more of a nonfiction kind of guy.” I nodded toward his reading choice. “How’s that one?” He looked to be about halfway through.
The plane turned to the right and rolled forward, and I took a breath in through my nose and pushed it out through my mouth.
“It’s good. Really good. I found it on this list of a hundred books you’re supposed to read by the time you’re thirty or something. I’m just working my way down the list.” He glanced over at me, and his brow puckered. “You doing okay?”
“Yep,” I answered as my stomach cartwheeled. “Did you know that the most dangerous times in flying are the first three minutes after takeoff and the last eight minutes before landing?”
“I didn’t.”
I swallowed. Hard. “I used to take sedatives. Prescribed by my doctor, of course. I’m not into the illegal stuff. Not that it’s bad if you are.” I cringed at my own words. Why the hell was my brain my own worst enemy?
“Not my thing. Why don’t you take the sedatives anymore?” He shut his book.
“They knock me out, and I almost missed my connection in Philly once. The flight attendant had to shake me awake, and then it was a full-out run to my gate. The door was already shut and everything, but they let me on. So, no more sedatives.”
The plane turned into a line of other planes, readying to taxi. Stop looking out the window. You know that makes it worse.
“Makes sense.” He cleared his throat. “So what are you studying up at Syracuse?” His obvious attempt to distract me made the corners of my mouth curve upward.
“Public relations.” I fought back a laugh. “I’m usually pretty good with people, until you stick me on a plane.”
“I think you’re doing just fine.” He grinned, and God help me, a dimple popped in his right cheek.
“What about you? Why go into the army? Why not go to college?” I shut my own book, leaving it in my lap.
“Wasn’t exactly an option. My grades were good, but not good enough to get a scholarship, and there isn’t enough money for cable, let alone college. Honestly, my parents needed my help. They own a small farm just south of Shipman, Illinois.” He looked away. “It’s my mom’s farm, really. My grandfather left it to her. Anyway, the army will pay for college, so off I go.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think I understood. It was the complete opposite of the way I’d grown up, where the question had been where I was going for undergrad and not if. Mom and Dad jokingly called my tuition a parentship, since they were paying for my education. I’d never had to struggle with the kind of choice Nate was making. “And what do you want to do once you graduate?”
His brow knit. “I haven’t gotten that far yet. Maybe teach. I like English. Something with literature. But maybe I’ll like the army. Special Forces seems pretty awesome too.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. First off, I’d like to welcome you all aboard flight 826 with nonstop service to Atlanta. You may have noticed, but there’s a rather thick layer of fog that’s slowing everyone down this morning, and it looks like we’re twenty-second in line for takeoff, which means it’s going to be about forty minutes or longer before we’re in the air.”
A collective groan sounded from the passengers around us, me included. Forty minutes wouldn’t keep me from my connection to Syracuse, but it would make it tight.
“The good news is that the weather looks good once we break free of this fog, so we’ll try and make up the time in the air. Bear with us, folks, and thanks for flying with us.”
There was a series of pings around us as people pressed their call buttons, no doubt stressed about their own connections.
“Are you connecting in Atlanta?” I asked Nate.
“Yeah, to Columbus, but I have a few hours before that one.” He thumbed the split in his lip and shifted in his seat.
“I have some antibiotic ointment in my purse,” I offered. “Tylenol, too, if it hurts.”
His eyebrows rose. “You keep a first aid kit in your purse?”
My cheeks heated again. “Just the essentials. You never know when you’re going to get stuck on the tarmac with a stranger who has a long story about a split lip.” I smiled slowly.
His laughter was soft, barely discernible. “I’ll be okay. I’ve had worse.”
“That’s not reassuring.” Huh. There was a slight bump in his nose, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d broken it at one point.
He laughed louder this time. “Trust me. It will be okay.”
“That must have been some disagreement.”
“Usually is.” He fell quiet, and my chest tightened at the realization that I’d poked where I had no business poking. Again.
“So, what else have you read off your one hundred must-read books?” I asked.
“Hmm.” He glanced upward, like he was thinking. “The Outsiders, by—”
“S. E. Hinton,” I finished. Shit, I interrupted him. “Go figure. I’m pretty sure they hand that out to every prospective bad boy their freshman year of high school.” I couldn’t stop my smile.