“Hey, Noli. Sweetheart. Wake up.”
“What?” I register the term of endearment, and this one feels genuine, not playful. Before I can appreciate it, my ears pop, and I flinch.
“We’re getting ready to land.”
My stomach rolls. I was asleep for an hour? I must’ve been more exhausted than I thought.
I sit upright and swallow the surge of stomach contents creeping up my esophagus. I will not get sick on this flight. If I have to will that statement into fact, so be it. I keep a firm grip on the armrest as the plane descends.
“You sure you’re okay?” Collin asks me for the fifteenth time when the wheels touch down. The brakes kick in, and I exhale.
“I’ll be fine,” I say through my teeth. Motion sickness is my nemesis. It’s one of the reasons I hate air travel. Usually the landings hit me the worst. Medication helps some, but I also think it’s a mental thing, and given my track record, my brain will not let things go, so I’m sort of left to deal with the fallout.
After what feels like a decade, it’s finally our turn to stand. Collin grabs my bag overhead. I make a move to take it from him, but he shakes his head. “I got it. You go ahead.”
He doesn’t have to make the suggestion twice. I flee from the plane. Even getting to the jetway helps me feel better. Solid ground. Stationary ground. One leg of this trip over with.
Collin follows closely behind me. I hear him carrying on a conversation with Macy and Ashlyn, but in my pursuit of fresh air, I barely register their small talk. I step into the bustling Atlanta Hartford Airport, and my shoulders relax.
Collin and our seatmates join me. Collin walks right over and engulfs me in a bear hug. “You made it. I’m proud of you.”
He’s nuzzling my head again. The man’s a nuzzler. Who would have thought? Also, how does he know I need a hug?
I inhale his strong, spicy scent and sink into his embrace. Yeah, he’s Collin Rattler, and he’s probably the last person I should be taking comfort in, but given the fact that he’s my fake boyfriend, I’m not going to let myself overthink this. It feels nice. There. I said it.
“Thanks,” I mumble into his chest.
He pulls back and smiles down at me, playing the part of doting partner convincingly.
“I guess this is where we leave you two,” Macy says with a smile on her face. “It was so fun meeting you. Have a blast in Florida. I’m going to find your candidacy page on social media, Collin.”
“And I’ll call you to set up that interview,” Ashlyn says before they walk away.
“Looking forward to it,” Collin replies.
As they move off, I swallow down another upsurge of nausea. Were we convincing enough to get past her scrutiny as a journalist?
“Interview?” I ask as Collin hoists both of our carry-ons onto his back.
“She wants to do a feature piece on me ahead of the election. It should be some good local press.”
“Oh. That’s good, I guess.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“Didn’t she seem a little shifty to you?”
“That’s journalists for ya.”
“I guess. I hope she bought into this.”
“Are you kidding me? We are a picture of bliss, snickerdoodle!”
I snort. “If you say so, octopus.”
Collin laughs a full-blown laugh at that, and I feel a little more like myself.
“Come on,” he says. “I need a coffee, and we’ve got one more flight to catch.”
