3. Nolan

NOLAN

Ishift in my airplane seat, once again trying and failing to get comfortable. These economy class seats aren't built for men like me. The armrests are pushing against my sides, my knees are digging into the seat in front of me, and the headrest barely reaches the back of my neck.

Beside me, a little kid stares up at me as he picks his nose.

"Finding anything good in there?" I ask him.

He giggles and shakes his head.

Despite the nose-digging, he's a cute kid. When we first took off, he excitedly mimicked the noises of the plane's engines, and kept announcing to his mom that we were in the air. Then he pressed his toy ninja up to the airplane window so it could see the clouds. The whole thing made me chuckle to myself, but also made me feel a void of emptiness for the lack of kids in my life.

I've always wanted to be a dad. Always thought for sure I would be a dad. But here I am, forty-four years old, and it's not looking like it's ever going to happen for me.

Ah, well. You don't get everything you want in life.

My attention shifts back to where it's been focused for the majority of the flight—on Leila, who's six rows ahead. She's sitting in a window seat, and the seat next to her is still open. On the other side of the open seat sits a silver-haired woman. The two of them have chatted a little bit during the flight, but right now the older woman is reading the in-flight magazine and Leila is gazing out the window, looking relaxed as she leans against her headrest.

A few rows further ahead, a flight attendant is pushing a meal cart down the narrow aisle. The rustling of plastic packaging and the aroma of warm food drifts through the cabin.

I try to lower the tray table in front of me, but my legs are in the way, so I push it back up with a sigh.

Five minutes later, when I'm handed my in-flight meal, I balance it on my lap. Not ideal, but doable. And it helps that the food is actually decent. The salmon is surprisingly tender, and I'd happily eat another serving of the potatoes if I could. As I wash it all down with a cup of black decaf coffee, I feel pleasantly satiated and hopeful that I can sleep away a good portion of the rest of the flight.

I've just closed my eyes when I hear a distressed voice rise up above the other quiet conversations around me. At once, I know it belongs to Leila.

"Someone help!" she's saying. "I think she's choking!"

My eyes fly open, instantly alert. I'm immediately out of my seat, my feet carrying me forward. As I reach Leila's row, I see the silver-haired woman hunched over, red-faced and clutching her neck.

I act without hesitation. I quickly wrap my arms around the elderly woman, and with several firm thrusts to her abdomen, I free the obstruction from her airway. As the woman gasps for air, the passengers around us exhale a collective sigh, murmurs of relief rippling through the cabin.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" I ask the woman, releasing her from my grasp.

She nods. "I think so. Thank you, young man. That was terrifying."

"I can only imagine. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I can breathe just fine now." She hesitates, then adds, "Would you mind staying here for a little while longer? I would feel better with you near. Just in case."

Now I'm the one hesitating. I glance at the empty seat beside her…and then at Leila, who's sitting forward in her seat, watching me with widened eyes.

When our eyes meet, a jolt of lightning shoots through me. My body aches for her so fiercely that I almost let a curse escape under my breath.

"No one is in this seat," Leila says. "You're welcome to sit here."

Jesus. Her voice. It's so soft and lovely. And her eyes…I can't get over her eyes. They're the color of rich caramel, mesmerizing and warm. Inviting.

I can't sit next to her. I won't survive it.

I tear my gaze from Leila and look at the silver-haired woman. "I'm only six rows back, ma'am. I'll be very close."

"You won't stay for even a few minutes?" the woman asks. She reaches out to touch my arm, her wrinkled hand still shaky. "Please. Just until my heart calms down."

I can't turn her down a second time. It feels cruel to say no to something as simple as sitting with an elderly woman for a few minutes. And so I step past her and squeeze into the seat between her and Leila, silently praying that this isn't a grave mistake.

"Thank you, young man," the elderly woman says, smiling at me gratefully. "I appreciate it very much."

I nod, trying to make myself more compact in the seat. But of course I'm spilling out of this one as much as I was in the other one. My too-big legs are mere millimeters away from Leila's. I'm dangerously close to brushing up against her curvy thighs.

"Are you traveling with anyone?" the elderly woman asks me.

Without thinking, I nod. Quickly, I correct myself with a shake of my head. "No. Traveling solo."

"This is my first time traveling alone," she says. "My husband and I used to travel together all the time, but he passed away last year."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"He always hated airplanes," she continues with a laugh. "He was such a grouchy traveler. Always complaining about everything. But we did have some wonderful trips together. What's taking you to Switzerland, if I may ask?"

"Uh…" I clear my throat. "It's a work trip."

"Oh? And what line of work are you in?"

For the life of me, I can't think of a single goddamn job.

"Business," I stupidly say.

"Oh. I…see." She gives me a funny look, then nods her head. "Well, I hope it all goes well."

She leans forward to pull out her purse from beneath her seat. I check my watch, wondering how much longer she's expecting me to sit here keeping her company. I need to get back to my seat. It's too risky, being this close to Leila.

I hear a gentle sneeze beside me, and without thinking, I turn my head toward Leila and say, "Bless you."

Leila smiles at me. "Thank you."

This time, when our eyes meet, I can't look away. She's too magnetic. Too beautiful. As I soak in the sight of her, my heart pounds like crazy, all the forbidden desire I have for her swelling inside me.

"How much longer are we going to keep this up, Nolan?" she asks.

I stare at her.

Jesus Christ. She knows?

It feels like the plane just dropped a thousand feet.

"Excuse me?" I croak out.

Leila laughs a little. "Did you really think I didn't notice you? You've been watching me for five years."

"Your father—he asked me to—before he—" I'm tripping over my words, still astounded that she's been aware of my presence.

"I know," she says. "I figured it out the day after you showed up."

I blink at her, letting it all soak in.

"Thank you for all the gifts," she says, still smiling at me. "They were really thoughtful. And sweet."

"I…"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to tell you to leave me alone."

Relief washes over me like a crashing wave. "Right."

"But I don't want you to keep doing what you've been doing, either." Suddenly she looks a little nervous. "Will you go on this trip with me? I mean, really go on it with me?"

I feel like I'm in a dream. "You mean stay by your side the whole time?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"That's really what you want?"

"It's what I want."

A voice of warning is yelling in my head, but my desire to be close to her has a far stronger pull on me. "Okay. Sure. I can do that."

That gorgeous smile of hers returns. "Good. I'm so glad you said yes. You brought hiking gear with you, right? I'm assuming you already know where we're going."

I nod. I'm still stunned that she's okay with all of this—with me following her, and watching her, and essentially spying on her life. She really isn't mad about it? Shit, maybe she is mad and she's just pretending she isn't so that she can get me out into the middle of nowhere and exact her revenge.

I study her eyes, trying to read her. But all I see is a woman looking at me warmly.

"Do you want to watch something together?" she asks, pulling out a tablet. "I downloaded a bunch of movies for the flight. I have some that I think you'll like."

I glance over at the elderly woman on the other side of me. Her eyes are closed and her head is leaning back, a softly pleasant expression on her face. She doesn't need me anymore. There's nothing stopping me from continuing to give my full attention to Leila.

Except for the promise you made her father, a voice in my head reminds me.

But I've already broken that promise, haven't I? And I've just agreed to spend the trip by her side. I can't go back on that now. Or, I should say, I don't want to go back on it, and I'm not going to. If that makes me a bad man, so be it. It's not like I'm trying to get her panties off.

No, that's exactly what you want, you dirty fuck.

I clench my jaw. Shift in my seat. My leg almost brushes up against Leila's, but I pull it away in time.

"Sure, let's see what you've got," I say, nodding at the tablet in Leila's hands.

She smiles, sets up the tablet on her table tray, and pulls up her movie library. When she asks me what I'm in the mood for, I tell her they're all fine with me and that she should pick. She chooses some heist movie I've never seen, then plugs in a set of earbuds and hands me one of the buds.

"Can you see it okay?" she asks, angling the tablet toward me more.

"You don't need to turn it that much." I reach out and angle it back toward her a little.

She adjusts it again, turning it a smidge in my direction. Then she presses play. As the audio starts coming through the earbuds we're sharing, my eyes drift away from the tablet and down to her hands. I can't imagine her trying to hurt me with those pretty hands of hers, but you never know.

I wonder what it would be like to hold her hand.

I wonder what it would be like to feel her run her hands down my bare chest, over my abs, or to feel her wrap her fingers around my?—

Nope. Not going to go there.

I force my eyes back to the screen and make myself watch the damn movie.