Page 52 of From Air

Melissa bites her lower lip.

“Go.” I push my roller bag in her direction. “Ijustsaid to ignore him. Take my bag to your bedroom while I have a word with my roomie.” I give him a tight grin.

Melissa blows me a kiss and giggles before disappearing around the corner.

“Can you behave?” I cross my arms.

He wets his lips, barely hiding his grin. “I thought the point of coming here was so I didn’t have to behave.”

“I thought the whole point of you staying at a hotel was because you know you can’t behave.”

“No.” He steps to the window and peers out at the busy street. “The hotel was for your benefit. You knew you couldn’t keep from jumping me.”

“Who’s jumping who?” Melissa rejoins us.

“Nobody’s jumping anyone.” I clap once. “Let’s grab dinner. I’m starving.”

Melissa eyes me but just as quickly nods toward the door. “Tacos and margaritas across the street.”

“Perfect.” I toss Fitz an exaggerated smile. “Let’s get a few drinks in you so you’ll be too numb to feel the lumps in Melissa’s sofa.” I follow her out the door.

“If only my job involvedsleeping on the ground.”

He wins. How does he always win?

Melissa dives into her interrogation the second we’re seated at the restaurant. She peppers Fitz with every possible question about his job. And I realize I’ve asked him so little about it. Maybe it’s because our relationship has been built on a solid foundation of banter. However, I have to give him credit for not only answering all her questions but doing it with a smile and not an ounce of the sarcasm he feeds me like slow-drip coffee.

Melissa decides to change the subject after thoroughly exhausting the smoke jumper Q&A. “Have you been on your skateboard yet?”

“A handful of times.” I stir the last few ounces of my margarita.

“Jamie has broken three bones, sprained an ankle, cut open the back of her head, and needed stitches twice in her knees because she refuses to wear proper gear while riding her skateboard. And she’s anurse.”

Eyeing Melissa, I shake my head. “It’s restrictive.”

“Or lifesaving.” Melissa frowns.

“I’ll get her a helmet and pads.” Fitz wipes his mouth.

“I’m good.”

“There’s a reason your mom’s nickname for you was Intrepid Little Girl.”

Fitz chuckles. The look on his face melts me from the inside out.

The intensity of his gaze.

That sparkle in his eyes.

Every time Melissa reveals something from my childhood, he lights up a little brighter. I’m envious of him. I’d love to hear about his childhood, even if nothing would make me laugh or bring out the sparkle in my eyes.

“What’s that look? You look like you spotted a ghost.” Melissa’s nose wrinkles. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned your mom.”

Fitz’s gaze drops to his empty plate.

“It’s fine. That wasn’t it. I’m fine.”

“I know you.” Wrinkles fill her brow. “You’re not fine. I’ve known youfor-evah.” Melissa downs the rest of her second margarita and jumps into the continuation of the Jaymes Lanette Andrews biography. “Jamie and I met when we were five. She and her mom moved into the apartment across from my parents. My family basically adopted Jamie and her mom since her mom was estranged from the rest of her family. So I know everything about her. Every boyfriend—she’s had seven. Her first kiss—Riley Kirk, age eleven, Fourth of July on the beach. The loss of her virginity to Miguel, two floors down from our apartments.

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