sip from my water bottle and pull a book from my purse. A fun, light read that should take up a chunk of this nine-hour flight. I crack it open to the first page, barely paying attention to the passengers shuffling through the aisle next to me. Everyone seems to be operating under some unspoken guise of decency I don’t often see before a long-haul flight. People say, “Excuse me” and “Oops! Sorry!” when they accidentally bump into someone. Everyone is taking care to move out of the way to let others through, so as to avoid jamming up the aisles. A guy at the front of the plane even stops to help an older woman lift her suitcase into the overhead bin.
I let out a happy sigh. Maybe Mom was right. Maybe this trip will be the reset I need, the break from real life that will help me feel refreshed and return home reenergized.
Everyone takes their seats on the plane, and I turn back to my book. A heavy plop noise pulls my focus away. I turn to my left and see a backpack sitting on the seat next to me. When I look up, I almost drop my book. There’s Callum James standing above me, chest heaving as he catches his breath.
“What the . . .” My voice is a rasp. It’s the best I can do while my body struggles to process this influx of information.
Callum will be sitting next to me for the next nine hours.
His eyebrows crinkle together as he shoves the backpack above him. Lowering himself into the seat, he tugs on the seat belt. “Were you expecting someone else?”
His tone reads unamused. I can’t possibly be the only one out of the two of us surprised that we’re seated next to each other. Of all the people on this airplane—of all the people who booked a flight from Seattle to London on this day—how the hell did Callum and I end up seated together?
The universe is a sick bastard with an even sicker sense of humor.
“What . . . what in the world are you doing here?” I finally ask.
“Rushing to make my flight to London. What does it look like I’m doing?” There’s bite to his low tone.
Rushing. That’s probably why I didn’t see him in the boarding area. I purse my lips, once again cursing the universe for allowing Callum to make this flight by the skin of his teeth.
Gripping both armrests, I prop myself up straighter and pivot my gaze around the cabin. Every other passenger is seated. The only ones moving about are the flight attendants.
I fall back into my seat, my head spinning. When I turn my focus back on Callum, the wrinkle in his brow is even deeper.
He tilts his head to the side. “Do you think I somehow orchestrated this?”
I shrug, flipping through random pages of my book. “Out of all the flights to London today, we managed to be on the same one sitting next to each other. Anything’s possible at this point.”
He scoffs. “If you say so.”
I jerk my head toward him, ignoring the flight attendant standing just a few feet in front of us, pointing out the emergency exits while the voice over the intercom explains the safety procedures.
“Oh, don’t give me that,” I say. “We’re stuck next to each other for the next nine hours.”
“We’ll manage, I’m sure,” he mutters. He doesn’t even turn to me when he speaks, opting instead to keep his gaze pointed at the headrest in front of him.
“Well, I won’t.”
I wave down the flight attendant nearest me. She walks up to our row, polite smile plastered across her face. I try to mirror the same friendly expression, but I’m wound so tight that my smile probably looks more like a wince.
“What can I help you with, miss?” she says cheerily.
“Would I be able to switch to a different seat? Whatever empty one you have? If it’s not too much trouble.”
Relaxing, unwinding, zoning out, all of that will be impossible if I have to share an armrest with the guy who’s been a thorn in my side for the past several weeks.
Callum’s chest heaves up as he takes a slow, deep breath in.
“Oh gosh, I’m not sure if I can do that,” she says brightly. “See, this is a full flight. Unless another passenger is willing to trade seats, I’m afraid that can’t happen. We’re about to take off, but if you want, I can ask around