I glanced at his hand wrapped around my wrist, then back up. He saw me looking. He didn't let go. "There's no need for another ticket when I can take you."
I hesitated. What excuse could I give? I couldn't exactly say, "I'm sorry, but you are way too sexy for me to have to sit alone with on a plane for any amount of time." It wasn't like he drove a couple hours to pick me up. He freaking flew a plane to get me. He was doing it as a favor for his grandmother.
"How do I know you aren't really a kidnapper?"
"Two reasons," he said, releasing my arm.
I lifted an eyebrow.
"One," he said, holding up a finger. "I don't have to kidnap women. If I want one, I get one."
I actually believed that. He probably had women lined up at home.
"And two," he said, flicking up a second finger. "My abuela is Marisol Castillo."
Again, his accent was more pronounced when he spoke her name. A name that I recognized. She was indeed my grandmother's very dear friend.
"Your abuela is Marisol?"
He produced a picture from the same pocket where he kept his ID and held it out. It was of my grandmother, Cora, and Marisol. I had seen this same image hanging on her refrigerator practically all my life.
I took the photo out of his hands, staring down at Kiki with tears blurring my vision. I missed her. I missed her so much. "Okay," I said softly. "I'll go with you."
He reached around me with his free hand and took my rolling suitcase. "Let's go."
I trailed along behind him like a puppy, mentally telling myself I was going to regret this.
2
"You can't be serious," I said the second we stepped outside.
He glanced over his shoulder. "Isn't she a beauty?"
A tin can with wings? Yes. A sardine can with the words "death trap" scrawled across the side? You bet. A beauty? Hell to the no.
"I'm not riding in that thing."
"Why not?" he called, not even bothering to look back this time. He just kept right on strolling, putting one impossibly long leg in front of the other. (Turns out even after I stood up, he was still very tall.)
"That thing isn't even fit to fly!" I exclaimed, rushing after him.
"It got me here, didn't it?"
Somehow that did not make me feel better.
He kept moving, walking up the tiny set of stairs and into the plane, taking my luggage with him. I wasn't going up there.
Instead, I stood at the bottom of the stairs and yelled up. "Hey! I want my stuff back."
His curly dark head appeared out the door. "Come get it."
"You little … " I growled and stomped up the stairs.
I walked into the plane, noted my bags sitting in the first seat on the right, and went toward them. He closed the hatch (or whatever the door on a plane is called) behind me. I stiffened and turned. "Oh no. I'm getting off this death trap."
"It's not a death trap. You can get off when we get to Puerto Rico."
"Now."
"There's soda in the back if you want some."
"Do you not hear the words coming out of my mouth?"
"As soon as I have clearance, we can take off."
Why did I bother talking? I grabbed up my bags and walked to the door.
Just as I was pulling open the door, the plane's engine rumbled to life. I shut the door and glanced into the open cockpit. Nash looked over his shoulder at me and grinned. "Better buckle up."
When the plane started moving, I found a seat and definitely buckled up. If I was going to die, it would be safely. The plane taxied toward the runway and then stopped. I thought briefly of trying to escape, but then I decided against it. I was already here. Might as well take the ride.
I settled into the seat, trying not to think about the fact that the plane was so small it only had one row of seats on each side. I tried not to think about the fact there was no flight attendant to give instructions preflight about how to use the dropdown air masks. Oh crap. Did this plane even have those?
I pulled some gum out of my bag and popped it into my mouth. The worst part about flying was the ear popping. Gum would hopefully help that.
Everything was fine until we got into the air. This little plane didn't seem as sturdy as the commercial flights I'd been on. It seemed to teeter through the sky, bumping along, with us inside. Nerves kicked up inside me and I began to dread the rest of my time on this plane.
"Hey!" called a voice from the front.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and moved forward, peeking into the cockpit, my heart racing and my mind spinning theories of him having some weird emergency and needing me to fly the plane.
But he didn't appear to be in need of help.
He actually looked really relaxed and confident sitting in the pilot's chair. He had headphones over his ears, but one side was pushed back so it wasn't covering that ear. My eyes were drawn immediately to the windshield, or rather what was beyond it.
It was sort of like seeing the ocean, except there was no water and we weren't on the ground. But there was an endless supply of blue. An endless supply of completely bare and undisturbed landscape dotted with white clouds that looked impossibly soft and much more 3D up here than from the ground. I wondered what it would be like to reach out and touch one, if my fingers would slip right through it like vapor … or if it would have some sort of feel against my skin. Would it be silky and soft? Would it be slightly moist and warm? I knew I would likely never know what it felt like, but being up here made it very easy to imagine.
"Want to help?" Nash called from his seat.
"I don't know how to fly."
He motioned for the empty seat beside him. I moved over cautiously, gingerly perching on the edge. He laughed. "Isn't the view awesome?"
"It really is!"
"Want to steer?"
I shook my head. I wasn't about to try and steer. I'd probably manage to hit a bird or something.
He lifted his hands off all the controls. "Look! No hands!"
"Stop that!" I yelled, unable to cover up my smile.
"Come here," he said, motioning with his chin.
I moved around so I was standing right beside him. He hooked me around the waist and pulled, causing me to tumble right into his lap. I gave a little shriek and he laughed. "Put your hands over mine," he instructed.
I hesitated and then I reached up. Flying a plane was something I never thought I would do. Flying a plane while sitting in the lap of some hot guy? That thought never even crossed my mind.
I liked it.
I wrapped my hands around his, both of us gripping the controls. "Nice and easy," he murmured right next to my ear. "She practically drives herself."
My eyes momentarily fluttered closed. His warm breath brushing across my ear made me feel like I just had a thirty-minute massage. My body felt heavy and languid and I actually had to make a conscious effort to support my own weight and not give it all to him.
After a few minutes of flying together, he slipped his hands out from beneath mine and I was left to fly alone. I gave a squeal of excitement. "I'm flying!"
His laugh vibrated my ear and his arms fell loosely around my waist. If I leaned back, I would be encircled in his body …
The plane jerked a little and his hands came back up over mine. "Whoa," he said. "Easy."
"I think I better leave the flying to you."
I moved off his lap, returning to the vacant seat beside him. We flew in silence for a while. The scenery mesmerized me.
But then the clouds started to turn a darker color. They were no longer fluffy and white. Instead, they glowed a sort of electric gray color, and I swore I saw some lightning flashing here and there.
"What's happening?" I asked him, unease filling my body.
He was looking out the window with a confused look on his face. "It wasn't supposed to rain today."
"Rain?" Were we flying into bad weather?
He nodded. "You should go back and buckle up."
"Is everything okay?" I needed to know.
"Everything's fine." He assured me, but not before I caught the hesitation in his tone.
I did as he asked, heading back toward my seat. Just as I got there, we seemed to hit a pocket of turbulence and I fell over in the aisle, bumping my shoulder on the seat. I scrambled back up, sitting down and fumbling to fasten the belt around my waist.
At the moment, it seemed silly. Like a strip of fabric around my waist was really going to help me if this plane decided to plunge out of the sky. But I left it there anyway, thinking it couldn't hurt. Plus, in some ways, it was a comfort. It made me feel safer, even if I wasn't.
After a few minutes, the plane evened out and the flight grew smooth again. I let out a shaky breath and relaxed my stiffened muscles. I rolled my head to the side and glanced out the tiny oval window and into the sky.
It was dark.
The once-fluffy clouds now looked angry and dirty.
The plane seemed to tilt then and then rapidly righted once more. My stomach rolled. Turbulence rocked us again, and it felt as if we dropped about ten feet in a span of one second. I swallowed back the panic clawing at my throat.