Page 232 of Better When Shared
Kiaan
The helicopter sliced through Seattle’s cloud cover, the city sprawling beneath us like a high-resolution version of our gaming maps. I watched Skylar’s face instead of the view, cataloging each expression as she white-knuckled the edge of her leather seat. Eight years of friendship through screens, voice chats, and text messages, and this was the first time I’d seen her genuine laugh in person—nervous but real. Worth every penny of the obscene charter fee I’d dropped without blinking.
“That’s the Space Needle,” I pointed out, leaning close enough to catch the scent of her shampoo—something citrusy that made my chest tighten in ways I wasn’t prepared for. “And over there’s Pike Place, where they throw the fish. We can hit that later if you want.”
“I know what the Space Needle is. I grew up in Washington, remember?” Her voice crackled through the headset, her snark so familiar it made my pulse jump. This was how shetalked during games; raw, unfiltered, and bold. Her expression softened, and she reached out and patted my hand. “But it’s really cool to see it from this angle.”
I grinned, settling back into the seat. “Just making sure you’re getting the full tour experience.”
When I’d told her about the helicopter, I’d half-expected her to tell me to fuck off, but instead she’d disappeared somewhere with Makai, who was a sexy surfer type, and Skylar’s other best friend. Her real-life best friend.
But she’d come back from wherever she’d gone in the morning in worn jeans and a Legend of the Twin Blades t-shirt, ready to ride a helicopter.
She claimed because it was likely going to be her only chance, but if she was mine, I’d take her out on helicopter rides any time she liked.
“I still can’t believe I agreed to this.” Skylar shook her head, but her eyes tracked the coastline with undeniable interest. “A fucking helicopter, Kiaan. Really?”
I laughed, the sound catching in my throat. “I thought you ran an adventure tour company. Doing my research, it seemed like a helicopter would be right up your alley?”
She rolled her eyes, but her death grip on the seat had relaxed. “Makai’s the adventurous one. I just handle the tech side and bookings.” A small smile played at the corners of her mouth.“I stick to adventures I’ve done since I was a kid—surfing, sailing, kayaking, mountain biking. Stuff that doesn’t feel risky anymore.”
“All of those sound way more adventurous than sitting in this well-maintained aircraft with two experienced pilots.” I gestured toward the cockpit.
“Whatever.” She nudged my shoulder with hers, the casual contact sending electricity down my spine.
It hit me again, watching her profile against the window—this was Skylar. The same Skylar who had carried our guild through countless raids, who trash-talked better than anyone I knew, who’d once stayed up all night helping me debug a particularly nasty authentication issue when my startup was still just lines of code on my laptop. Eight years of friendship, and this was the first time I’d seen her face without a screen between us.
The helicopter banked toward downtown, heading for the private helipad atop the Elliot Tower where I’d arranged lunch. I’d pulled every string, called in every favor to make today perfect—a do-over after yesterday’s train wreck. Maybe it was excessive, but excessive was what I knew. Money was the easiest language for me to speak.
“Almost there,” I said as the pilot began our descent. “Hope you’re hungry.”
Skylar’s eyes widened as we approached the gleaming glass spire. “Wait, we’re landing on top of that?”
I nodded, not bothering to hide my satisfaction at her reaction. “Best view in the city.”
The touchdown was smooth, the rotors slowing as a uniformed attendant rushed forward to open the door. I stepped out first, turning to offer Skylar my hand. She hesitated before taking it, her fingers warm against mine.
“Mr. Malhotra, welcome back.” The maître d’ greeted us at the rooftop entrance, his posture perfectly straight. “Your usual table is ready.”
I guided Skylar through the penthouse restaurant, acutely aware of the eyes that followed us—hers taking in the crystal chandeliers and floor-to-ceiling windows, others recognizing me, wondering who the blue-haired woman in jeans was in this sea of business attire and cocktail dresses.
“Your usual table?” Skylar whispered as the hostess led us to a corner table with panoramic views of Puget Sound. “Seriously?”
I shrugged, trying for nonchalance. “I’m in Seattle quite often to meet with startups.”
“You’re founding another company?”
“No. Since I sold mine, I’ve been focused on impact investing. Investing in companies that will have a positive social and environmental impact if they’re successful.”
“Couldn’t you just give your money away?”
I laughed. “I do a lot of that, too. But it’s really rewarding to find innovative people with fantastic, world-changing ideas who just need capital to get their business going. The company I’m currently working with came up with a concept for affordable modular housing for the homeless. And there’s another focused on making a device that reduces noise pollution in the ocean now that we know about the impact the large ships are having on whales and other marine life.”
She stared at me for a long moment. “That’s actually cool,” she said, opening the menu before frowning and closing it again. “There are no prices on this.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I signaled the sommelier, ordering champagne without asking what she wanted. “Get whatever looks good.”
I watched her over the rim of my flute, searching for signs that she was impressed, that this gambit was working. Instead, she looked bemused, finger tracing condensation on her water glass as she studied the menu and picked something.
