“Don’t remind me,” I grumble as we merge into the steady stream of walkers heading in the direction of our gate.
“So flying freaks you out, huh? Want to tell me why?”
“Not particularly.” I don’t like reliving it.
Collin stops in the middle of the crowded terminal. He raises his brows. “If you tell me, maybe I can help.”
I sigh and tug him out of the flow of traffic. I know he’s not going to move on until I come clean. He’s stubborn like that.
“There was a plane crash at the Naval Base in Pensacola.”
His jaw tightens as his gaze holds mine.
“Four fatalities. I took some of the 911 calls that came in that day, and they were…haunting.”
“I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not, but you know. Comes with the territory of the job. I—well, I never liked flying because I get motion sick, and then that all made it worse.” I steer him back toward our gate. “So now you know.”
“Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me that.”
My step falters. There’s that word again—trust. I don’t trust people. My dad broke my trust when he left all those years ago. Then I trusted Nelson and he used me. So, no. Trust doesn’t usually work out in my favor. But I guess I did just let Collin in. I’m not sure how to feel about that.
He must sense my uncertainty—my awkwardness at having overshared—because he tries to diffuse the moment by being outrageous.
“So since you’re spilling your secrets, go ahead and tell me everything else that scares you.” He pats his chest. “Lay it on me.”
I tip my chin up, the picture of defiance. “Nothing else scares me.”
Collin laughs. “I should have known.” He turns serious then. “But what if I don’t believe you?”
“Believe what you want. That’s the truth.”
Collin looks at me with that deep, green gaze of his. But then he changes the subject—mercifully—saying we need to hunt down some caffeine.
I exhale, grateful to be out from under his scrutiny.
Because the truth is, I don’t want to tell Collin I’m afraid Nelson ruined me for good. That I’ll never feel whole again. That I feel broken.
And I certainly don’t want to admit to the man currently striding through the airport next to me that now I’m afraid of falling for him.
17
Show Tunes and Jealousy
Collin
“You’re being a butthole.”
I roll my eyes at Noli because, really? That’s what she’s calling me right now? “Gee, thanks. I think that’s my favorite term of endearment yet.”
We made it to Pensacola after a short but rocky flight from Atlanta. The turbulence was some of the worst I’ve ever experienced.
Noli had a death grip on my arm for pretty much the entire flight. Then she got sick during landing. So not only was she terrified we were going to crash, but she felt like crap, and knowing her, she was probably embarrassed about getting sick in front of me. She’s still white as a ghost, and her fingers are trembling.
Doesn’t stop her from trying to take control, though.
“Give me the keys, Rattler,” she seethes.
