Page 73 of No Interest in Love

She doesn’t nod or say yes or give any other affirmation that it is indeed what she wants. Instead she pulls the door back open and starts walking down the steps to the shuttle stop. I drop the hotel key on the table in the room and chase after her.

She managed to make that very unawkward. Which doesn’t help…because it only makes her even more desirable.

9:25A.M.

My ass is on the edge of my seat the whole shuttle ride to the airport. I look over my shoulder and scope out every person while we get our tickets. When we go through security, I ask Shay about twenty times if she has anything hidden anywhere. She laughs and says, “Oh yes. In my free time this week I bought drugs and shoved them up my rectum.”

She teases, but I’m at the point that it wouldn’t surprise me if we get stopped for something as insane as that. The fact that nothing has halted our journey today has me paranoid enough to refuse to let Shay run to the bathroom before the flight.

“You can go on the plane,” I say, taking the seat nearest to the gate. She crosses her legs and bounces in the seat next to me.

“We have an hour before our flight takes off.”

“A lot can happen in an hour.”

“Yeah…like I could pee myself because you won’t let go of my leg.”

I look down, not even aware that I’ve been holding on to her knee.

“Okay. But I’m walking you there.”

She laughs. “You know, I’m beginning to see how I look to you on most occasions.”

Yeah. I let her go by herself to the restroom. But I’m pretty sure she takes forever just to mess with me.

The flight isn’t delayed, which I was sort of expecting, to be honest, and so an hour later the guy at the counter starts boarding. Shay and I stand up and make sure we’re near the front so when they call regular coach people we can hop in line.

The back of Shay’s hand bumps into mine, and I latch our fingers, knowing it’s probably a couple thing to do and that I may have managed to make our unawkwardness completely awkward. But I tell myself I’m only holding her hand because I don’t want to lose track of her, and as her fingers tighten with mine I assume she probably doesn’t want that either.

We board with no problems. We sit in our seats with no problems. We’re greeted by the stewardess and we go over plane procedures and no one’s kicked off and there’s no engine problem or any delays whatsoever.

All right, screenwriter. What are you playing at?

The plane’s speed starts increasing, the rumble vibrating up through my hand that’s locked with Shay’s. The nose points up, and we climb to however many thousand feet and level out. Shay lets out a long breath and turns to look at me with a half smile.

“Don’t say anything to jinx it,” she says, and I finally let go of her hand and relax. Alabama, here we come.

12:44P.M.

“I can barely keep my eyes open,” Shay says halfway into our flight. We’ve only got about half an hour till we land, but I hoist up the armrest and give her a soft place—well, soft enough—to rest.

She hesitates long enough for me to look like an idiot with my arm suspended in the air over her, but then she drops flat on my chest, and I swear she’s out within seconds. My hand lands near her hip, and I trace circles on her skin. Another couple-like thing to do. But you know, I’m starting to really dig the couple-like things…especially with her.

1:35P.M.

Once we land, Shay pulls me into a cab. And if I had any doubts about my life turning into a chick flick, they’re snuffed out now. Because we’re on our way to…

A shopping montage.

Apparently, I’m not auditioning for a “homeless man,” as Shay put it. Fortunately, Shay’s not overly picky about style, so when I grab a plain black T-shirt and a pair of jeans, she doesn’t make me try on a bunch of ridiculous clothing in the dressing room.

Shay picks out a green dress she looks killer in but only purchases because “It’s the cheapest thing that works, Jace.”

But I can’t stop looking at her legs the entire cab ride to the screen test. I think she’s trying to distract me.

The cab pulls up to this plain office building, and Shay’s fixing my hair as we get out.

“It’s like Harry Potter’s,” she says with a laugh. When I hoist myself out of the cab, she can’t reach me anymore, so she just shrugs and pretends that it’s fine.

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