Page 56 of Fragile Heart

CHAPTER22

Quinn

I layon top of my small carry-on suitcase to smash everything in there and get the zipper to go around the bag.

“You do realize we’re only going for two days?” Hudson questions while he stands in my bedroom doorway, looking highly amused.

“Yes. I know. I just want to be prepared,” I explain.

“In case the apocalypse happens?”

I yank the zipper the rest of the way around the bag. “Shut up.”

“There are also stores in LA in case you forget something. We can always just buy a replacement.” His smirk tells me he’s really enjoying teasing me.

“Yes, I know. But it might be hard to find the things I like. I don’t know.”

“Babe, it’s Los Angeles, not another country. If they have it in Georgia, I’m sure they have it somewhere in California too.”

I stand up and pull the handle up on my rolling suitcase. “I just want to be prepared.”

“Whatever makes you happy.” He walks towards me and kisses me gently before taking my suitcase and carrying it down to the waiting SUV. I lock up and follow him down.

The ride to the airport feels longer than it actually is. I haven’t told Hudson, but I’m a little nervous about flying. I’ve flown once or twice in my life, but mostly when I go somewhere, it’s close enough to drive. The furthest I’ve gone was an eight-hour drive to see my parents in Florida.

Hudson does his best to keep his identity hidden as we go through the airport. His hat is pulled low, just like I’ve seen him do a million times, and he keeps his eyes trained on the ground. I can’t imagine what it must be like to hide like this every day of his life.

We get through the airport and security in no time, and we’re at our gate just in time for priority boarding.

* * *

By the time we land at LAX, I’m more than ready to get off the plane. It wasn’t a particularly long flight, but being stuck in a tube bumping around for almost five hours was enough for me.

Hudson holds my hand as we walk through the airport, but the closer we get to the exit, the harder he starts to squeeze.

“Are you alright?” I finally ask before he squeezes my hand off.

“Hm? Uh, yeah.” He looks around nervously before pulling me to the side of the walkway. “Hey, would you mind wearing a hat for me?”

“Um, sure. Why?” He digs through his bag and comes back out with a LA Dodgers hat similar to what he’s currently wearing.

“There might be people here with cameras, and I’d rather them not recognize us. I don’t want them to start speculating about you in all the gossip magazines yet.” He tugs the hat down on my head. “Perfect.”

We continue our walk toward the exit. Hudson is right. As soon as the sliding doors open, at least a dozen people are standing there with professional-grade cameras. It’s like they’re waiting for any celebrity to walk out.

I keep my head down just like I’ve seen Hudson do and follow his lead to the car waiting for us. I don’t know how he knows which car is for us, but I don’t question it. I hear the cameras start clicking. They must recognize Hudson, but I doubt they got a picture of my face.

We slide into the SUV quickly, and the driver immediately takes off.

“That was crazy,” I tell him as soon as we’re out of the airport.

“Unfortunately, that was nothing.”

I gape at him. “How do you deal with that?”

“I drank,” he says pointedly. “And now that I’m not drinking, I try not to leave my house unless I absolutely have to.”

“I’m sorry it’s like that for you.”

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