Page 35 of Holiday Romance
Yeah. So much better than staying in Chicago with my bed and my shower and my food and my—
I groan, slumping down in my chair. All my clothes are in my checked luggage, which was something I hadn’t been particularly concerned about, but is all I can think about now with no change of clothes on me. I probably stink, even with the cheap body spray I bought in the drugstore here.
“We made the right choice,” Andrew says, correctly interpreting my annoyance as he scrolls through his phone. “That storm isn’t going anywhere. We would never have gotten a direct flight.”
“Would staying in Chicago really have been so bad?” I sigh, only half-joking. “I mean, I know you love your family and everything, but…”
Andrew smirks. “I’m never going to stop thanking you for this. You know that, right? I can’t think of anyone else who would put themselves through this for me.”
“Alright,” I mutter, embarrassed. “No need to be all sincere about it.”
He laughs, mimicking my pose as he slides down his seat, legs spreading in that way men do. I don’t call him out on it though. There’s no one else in our row and I like the way his knee brushes against mine. I like it even more when he doesn’t move it away.
I take a slow breath at the sensation, holding it in as I try to stay relaxed. We’d barely spoken once we were in the air, both of us too exhausted to say more than a few words to each other. But I remained constantly aware of him. As aware as I am now as he stares blankly ahead and I stare at him. Discreetly, of course. Face tilted away, corner of my eye, stealth-wise. I can’t help it. I’m kind of hoping that if I keep looking, I’ll eventually see it, whatever had me so confused back in Chicago. Confused now.
“We should try and sleep on this one,” he says. “We’ll only have an hour to catch the flight on to Dublin.” He pauses. “If there aren’t any delays.”
“There won’t be. We’ll make it. Maybe we’ll even get on the news.”
“So that’s your plan. Brief, local fame.”
“We’ll make it,” I repeat, and he shoots me a half smile.
“I know. I think I’ll be better once we’re… I don’t know, in Europe?” He laughs at how ridiculous it sounds. “At least it will be a fun story to tell the family. We’ll take a break between movies to stretch our legs and I’ll say, hey, remember that time I flew twenty-four hours out of my way just to get home for Christmas?”
“Stretch your legs? How many movies do you guys watch in the Fitzpatrick household?”
He grins. “It depends on the year. Dad usually chooses the main one, but he can be unpredictable. If it doesn’t scratch the itch, we can go all night, though my parents usually head to bed around midnight.” Andrew shifts, twisting his body to face me. “I was going to suggest a movie marathon at yours if we’d stayed. Just Christmas films all day.”
I force a smile. “That sounds nice.” It sounds very nice. But I don’t want to think about all the things he was going to suggest. It had only been for an hour or so, but I’d gotten very attached to the idea of spending Christmas with Andrew.
“We should go to the Music Box next Halloween,” he continues, and I raise a brow. The Music Box is the kind of pretentious movie theater that I love and he tolerates. “They do horror marathons,” he adds at my look.
“I can’t sit still for that long; I’ll need to pee.”
“I’ll get you an aisle seat. Quick escape. Or one of those adult diapers.”
“Well, how can a girl say no to that?”
“It’s a date then.”
My smile freezes on my face as I force myself to turn back and face the tango lady.
Not a date. Not a date! So why—
I flinch at the tickling sensation by my ear and whip my head around to see Andrew drawing back, eyes wide at my exaggerated response. His hand hovers uncertainly between us.
“Your earring,” he explains, showing me the small silver crescent. “It was caught in your hair.”
My hand flies up to my bare lobe. “I must have lost the backer.”
He drops it into my open palm with a frown. “Are you okay?”
“Just tired,” I lie. I take out the other one and slip them both into my pocket. Andrew doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it go. “Bet you’re excited to see the kids,” I say, changing the subject. His older brother, Liam, has a boy and a girl. “You must miss them.”
“I do,” he says. “I swear it’s like every time I get back they’re whole new people. It was the same with Hannah. Although, the way Liam and Christian used to talk about her growing up, I gather she was very annoying.”
I laugh. “Seriously?”
