Page 107 of Fly Boy
“Yeah, Dad and Nancy were going to Maine to visit her sister.” Watching him walk across his room and rummage through his drawers, I tilt my head as if the angle might help see him better, but his back is to the screen, barely aware we’re even on a call. “I—I thought you were flying him?”
He straightens, his hands still inside a drawer until he itches his head. “Uh, that was Liam.”
“Oh, is Alistair back now?”
“Guess so,” he says, like he’s not quite sure.
“Cool.” There’s a pregnant pause, and I can’t help but feel like he’s avoiding me. Not once has he actually looked into the camera, or asked me any questions, or sounded like he remotely wants to speak to me.
“So, boys’ trip…” I say in another attempt to talk to my man. “What have you got planned?”
He walks toward his nightstand, the phone shaking as he picks it up, and for the first time since he answered, I can see his beautiful blue eyes. Except they’re still not looking into the camera, not looking at me at all.
“Listen, Pippa, I’m sorry, but I need to go. Can I call you later?”
“Yea—” The video call cuts off, and I’m left staring at myself on the blank screen. The RecoverRx boots beep, signally the end of the program and Evan’s by my side in a shot.
“Gimme, gimme, gimme,” he says, pumping his fingers.
Slowly, I unfasten the boots. “That was weird, right?”
“What was?” he asks, as he helps me slide my legs out of them.
“Wyatt. Did he sound distracted to you?”
Evan takes the seat beside me, fastening himself into the thigh-high boots. “No idea, babe, I was too busy picturing all those tattoos.” I punch his arm, and he looks up with a furrowed brow. “What?”
“Didn’t you notice something was up?” Reaching over, I unlock my phone. “I mean, he didn’t even say anything about you being in my apartment, freeloading off of me.”
“Meh,I didn’t notice,” Evan shrugs, selecting a program on the keypad and groaning when it begins.
Sliding from my stool, I pull up my text thread with my dad and type out a message.
Pippa
I know I said I was staying in CO for Worlds, but can you ask Liam or Alistair if they’d mind flying out on Friday?
Dad
Are you sure? I thought you were flying with the team to Montreal Monday?
Pippa
I am… So if it wouldn’t be too much to fly me back Saturday morning? I know Wyatt’s on PTO this weekend, otherwise I’d ask him.
Dad
I’ll get it sorted.
Pippa
LOVE YOU DADDY
I feel on edge as I walk on board the Gulfstream Friday afternoon, hating how awkward I feel after spending so much time on the other plane. It’s funny how, after getting the new one, it feels like it belongs to just me and Wyatt.
What also doesn’t make me feel any better is the frosty reception from Liam or the lack of acknowledgment from Alistair from the cockpit.
The rest of the flight isn’t much better either. Where usually, Liam would check in and let me know how the journey was shaping out—something Wyatt had made him do when he flew with us—he ignores me. And when I try to smile at him when we land in Westchester, he’s weird, almost skittish around me.
