Page 109 of You're The One
“I was saving that,” I mutter. “And not for you.”
“Color me surprised.” He shuffles his laptop across his knees and starts unpacking what I assume are his in-flight essentials—chargers, snacks, a neck pillow—all of it landing in a chaotic pile on the tray table.
“Any chance of me convincing you to sit elsewhere?”
“Nope.”
Of course not.
“We’ve got a nearly nine-hour flight ahead of us, a perfect time for a little heart-to-heart.” He opens a bag of mixed nuts.
“Oh, great.” I get comfortable in my seat. “Let’s hear it. I’m sure we can unpack it all in the twenty minutes before takeoff.”
The women start to file onto the jet.
There are only three left: Mia, Summer, and, thanks to a producer veto, Emma. My gut told me to send Emma home last night, but apparently, my instincts were overruled “for storyline purposes.” So, River was sent home, and Emma is coming to Hawaii.
“Better to wait. The cabin noise will give us more privacy,” Bodhi says, like he’s planned this out. He pops a cashew and offers me the bag. I wave it off.
“Perfect,” I mumble.
Mia’s the last to board. Summer’s chatting over her shoulder as they make their way down the aisle, her voice carrying through the plane. Mia has her headphones slung around her neck, hair a little tousled like she let it air-dry and didn’t bother with doing much else.
She gives me a small smile, one that still manages to send flutters to my gut. Then her eyes flick to Bodhi, and she lifts a brow, silently asking,What the hell is he doing there?
I say a quick hello to the women as they pass. But when Mia comes within reach, I lean across Bodhi—ignoring his exaggerated sigh—and let my fingers trail down hers in a slow, deliberate pass.
I track her down the aisle until she drops into the seat next to Summer.
“And that, my friend,” Bodhi singsongs, “is exactly what we need to talk about.”
“Dude, we’renotfriends,” I snap. “First, you were flirting with Mia, and then there’s the stunt you pulled with my mother.”
I take a breath, trying and failing not to let my frustration boil over.
Bodhi lifts his hands in mock surrender. “I told you I was sorry. The mom thing? I was just as blindsided as you. We thought we were pulling off some sweet, wholesome moment. Surprising and sentimental. Not an emotional grenade. We didn’t know about your history. I swear it.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night,” I huff, even though I’m almost positive he’s telling the truth. If he weren’t, production would’ve highlighted it instead of trying to sweep it under the rug.
“Fine. Believe what you want.”
I sneak another glance at Mia. She must’ve already been watching, because the second I look between the seats, our eyes lock.
I had the whole flight mapped out. A playlist ready for us. I was going to ask her how last night with her brother went, how she’s feeling. I wanted to know her favorite snack when ice cream’s off the table. Maybe see if we could bring back our morning walks. Catch the sunrise together before the world wakes up. I bet it’s even better in Hawaii.
Christ, I’m a romantic bastard.
The thought makes me chuckle under my breath.
Bodhi throws me a side-eye.
The flight crew finishes sealing the cabin and starts the safety demonstration. Before I know it, the runway slips away beneath us, Chicago shrinking into a sprawl of lights and gridlines as we climb.
If Mia were next to me, I’d be reaching for her hand.
Does she get nervous on planes? I don’t even know. But I want to. I want to knoweverything. I want to be the world’s leading expert on Mia Matthews.
I’m going totryhard enough for both of us.
