I’d believe her, but I’m carrying the majority of her weight. “I’m just here as a precaution,” I say as I lower her into her chair.
Her head rests against the chair back as her chest falls. “Thank you.”
“I’ll go get you some water, a blanket, and a pillow.”
“It’s really not necessary,” she says behind me, but I’m already halfway down the aisle.
Camila
My entire personality is built around being independent. I’m the queen of “I can do it myself.” I wrote the playbook on hownotto depend on a man. And then today happened, and I’m holding a stranger's hand because I’m scared and don’t want to be alone. It’s humiliating and humbling to be that vulnerable. I don’t like feeling weak in front of others—especially a man. And now, I have to sit next to him the rest of the flight. It’s so embarrassing. I’m sure he’ll lecture me on how I need to take better care of myself to prevent incidents like this from happening again.
He’ll mansplain diabetes to me.
I gulp some water as I eye the conversation happening a few rows up between the flight attendant and the man who helpedme. I was right. The woman is shamelessly flirting with my rescuer. It’s tacky, but I don’t blame her. He’s handsome in that protective way that makes you melt with femininity whenever he looks at you. Or maybe it’s his huge belt buckle that did me in. I’m a sucker for a manly cowboy. My heart goeswildover them, and while this guy is just wearing a fitted t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes that in no way signal he’s a cowboy, I can easily picture him in boots with his shirt off, working a farm. Add to that his medium-length, dirty-blond hair that would look amazing in a cowboy hat, kind blue eyes, nice smile, and great build, and you’ve got a man who’s worth a daydream or two.
I mean, I’m not into him. I couldn’t be with a man who, from the start, has seen me at my worst. He’d never fully respect me. But I could daydream the heck out of him.
And I probably will.
His stare darts my way. I meet his gaze in an effort to gain back some of my dignity, and he gives me a small, closed-mouth smile.
He’s handsome, alright.
I wouldn’t expect anything less.
It’s always the attractive men who get to witness our downfalls. Is it karma? Fate? Is the universe working against women? I don’t know. It’s just how the world works.
Their conversation ends, and my heart unexpectedly gallops as he walks in my direction.
I stand to let him pass. “Did you get her phone number?”
“No, she got mine.”
“You’re welcome.” I sniff out a mocking laugh, feeling the obnoxious pang of jealousy in my chest. “If I hadn’t fainted, you two wouldn’t have met, and then you wouldn’t have?—”
“She was filing an incident report. You know, taking my name and number so they can send me some airline points formy heroic service.” His eyes stare directly into mine, surprising me with their softness. “By the way, what’s your number?”
“Uh…” My walls fly up. Just because I didn’t want the flight attendant to have his phone number doesn’t mean I want to give him mine. “You don’t need my number. I’m capable of taking care of myself from here.” That sentence sounds pretty stupid sinceI’mthe reason for the hypoglycemic episode.
His eyes crinkle at the edges, like he’s amused. “I meant your blood sugar number. I want to make sure the glucagon is doing its job.”
I drag out an exaggerated, “Oh,” then glance down at my phone. “Doing great. I’m at one hundred four.”
“Much better. You were at sixty-five when you fainted.”
“Wow, that’s low.” I grimace, feeling the need to explain before he starts his lecture. “I gave myself a bolus of insulin and got distracted with work and forgot to eat. Don’t worry, I know better.”
“You don’t have to explain to me. Life happens.” He shrugs, pulling my eyes to the way his t-shirt wraps around his defined shoulders. He looks like he could easily throw a bale of hay halfway down a football field.
I snap my gaze back to his face. “Actually, thisneverhappens. That’s why I have the alarm on my pump silenced, because it never goes off. Normally, it’s not a problem.”
“I’m sure you’re very on top of things—except for the almost dying part.” His mouth moves into an innocent smirk, letting me know he’s teasing, and instead of feeling defensive, there’s something about his sweet teasing that forces a reckless smile to fall over my lips.
“Now you’re just being dramatic. I wasn’t even close to dying. Just…lightly unconscious.”
“Lightly unconscious?” His brows lift, matching the upward curve of his lips. “You make the whole incident sound whimsical.I guess I don’t deserve the extra airline points for saving your life.”
“They give participation trophies to everyone these days.”
