Hard Fought (A Stepbrother Warriors Novel)(3)

"Same. Can't believe there's steak up here," he adds to me as Luc leaves. "You should taste what passes for food in economy."

"Oh, I know," I reply. He raises his eyebrows at me, and it takes me a moment to catch on as to why. "How would I know? Is that what you're thinking?" He shrugs. "You're a man of few words. I don't know why that loosens my tongue, but it does..." I take a deep breath. "Alright, I guess it's safe to tell you about this. It's not like you're going to go run and tell my family...I left college a couple years ago to follow a man to Europe. The relationship fell apart pretty quickly, but I was too embarrassed to go crawling back to my father for help. So I lied and said I'd gotten this wonderful job at an internet start-up that gives micro-loans to abused women. I really laid it on thick, I know. They thought I was living this fancy, successful life, but actually I've been working in a bakery. I still managed to travel around Europe some when I had enough saved up, though, so I have tasted the economy food. But after a couple years of spinning my wheels...I didn't know where I was going. And Thanksgiving is this week, and the thought of spending another one on the Continent just sounded so depressing...so I dug out my old Amex, the one connected to my father's account that's only for emergencies, and bought a plane ticket home."

"Maybe everyone should have to live below the poverty line for a little while," he says quietly. "I'm sure it would change some perspectives."

"Well, I don't want to have to knead another ball of dough for the rest of my life. Though at least it gave me some exercise. There aren't really any gyms in Paris, isn't that funny?"

"What's this thing?" he asks as his elbow bumps against the edge of the console between us. He fumbles with it for a second until I reach over and pull up on it.

"It's an individual movie screen, see? You can adjust the height like this," I demonstrate, moving it up and down for him.

"They don't all play the same thing?" he asks, looking around the cabin.

"No," I smile. "There's a menu. You get to choose." He leans forward, pressing buttons. "You have fun. I'm going to take a nap," I say, taking the sleep mask out of the toiletries bag. "If Luc comes by, will you ask him to just leave the salad?"

"Who's Luc?"

"The flight attendant," I explain, settling back into my seat and reaching for the lever to lean the chair back. I go all the way flat and then loosen my seat belt a little, turning onto my side. I can never fall asleep on my back.

"Sleep well," I hear him say as I pull the mask over my eyes. I smile. I only got a few hours sleep last night, and I quickly feel myself drift off.

When I wake up again, I drowsily reach for my mask and push it up onto my forehead. I blink in confusion. I'm looking at a devastatingly handsome man just a foot away from me. His eyes open.

"What time is it?" he asks groggily.

"I don't know."

"Got tired just after you passed out," he says, yawning.

"I forgot where I was for a second there," I admit, pulling the lever on my seat so my chair moves back upright. "You didn't watch anything?" I ask, glancing out of the small windows at the clouds. It's tough to tell, but I'd guess it's late afternoon.

"Was going to watch one of those Avengers movies, but I fell asleep."

"Oh, I haven't seen those."

"Want to watch?"

"What, together?"

"On our own screens."

"At the same time."

"Exactly."

"Alright," I acquiesce with a smile. I pull my screen out of its hiding place and click to the right screen. I glance over at him, and see his finger poised above the screen, waiting. I nod, and we both tap at the same time. I pull my headphones out as the production company logos fly onscreen, and then dig a blanket out of the seat pocket in front of me. Without asking, I shake it out and pull it over both of our legs. I love it when men do that, so I figure it probably works both ways.

I settle back, leaning slightly toward him. It's nice, this feeling of coziness, and the butterflies in my stomach. Just two anonymous people, watching a movie together hundreds of feet above the earth.





Chapter Three



"I liked it," I say with a smile as I pull my earbuds out. "Not really sure about the guy with the arrows or Scarlett Johansson...I mean, they don't have any superpowers. At least Iron Man's got his suit."

"At the end of the day, if you had to choose one of them to be saved by, you'd choose Thor, right? He's an actual god."

"Exactly. Followed by Captain America," I add. "Or why doesn't Iron Man just make those other two suits like his? They'd still be assassins, but they'd have suits," I add. letting my leg fall against his under the blanket. I could feel the heat from his body throughout the movie, and now my body is practically humming with desire. I feel like I used to in high school, when my boyfriend at boarding school and I used to sit in the common room and snuggle together while we watched TV.