I had to stop her after she asked Gareth for help. Because fuck that guy.
He should’ve chosen not to join us. So what if he was supposed to go back home on his own and even asked Nikolai for his private jet? And yes, I might have hijacked his flight, but still, he goes back all the time. He could’ve let us have the plane all to ourselves.
The jet is spacious enough to fit a small army with all their equipment. The comfortable chairs are made of high-quality leather and are spacious enough to fit two people.
Uncle Kyle bought this baby as a gift for Aunt Rai on one of their anniversaries, and Nikolai kinds of steals it whenever he needs to fly home—and Gareth, in retrospect.
Not me, because I only go back to the States in the summer.
Knowing his presence is unwanted, Gareth lounges on a seat by the window a few rows ahead of us, buds in ear and a tablet in hand.
I’m by the window while Glyndon is beside me, her pupils dilated and her lips puffed out and parted. But since she’s a slippery rabbit, she still cranes her head to watch the scenery, despite her obvious aerophobia.
She’s been stiff, had multiple freak-out sessions, and drove herself to the point of panic in only the half hour since we departed. And while focusing on her has been dulling my thoughts about where we’re going, I don’t like seeing her like this.
The good thing is that the fear and a cup of coffee have sobered her up a little.
She’s still a bit drunk, judging by the slow blinking and the glittering in her bright green eyes.
“Stop looking out the window if you’re so scared.”
“What if we fall, like nosedive straight into the ocean. We’ll all die, be eaten by sharks, and they might never find us. It’ll hurt so bad.”
“Actually no, we’re over twenty thousand feet up, so if we do fall from this height, the g-force of it will black us out in about twenty seconds. The good news is, you’ll feel nothing. Bad news, there will be no remains to recuperate since the power of the crash will disintegrate us and the body of the plane.”
She finally wrenches her attention from the window to stare at me as if I murdered her favorite puppy. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Depends on whether or not you stop thinking we’ll crash. Those aren’t really common.”
“But they happen.”
“Then think of this as your last battle cry. Wanna have one final fuck?”
“You’re not funny.” She swallows. “Flights really make me nervous. It’s why I make Cecily and Ava drive with me all the way from London to the island.”
“That’s because your head is in the wrong place. Instead of focusing on the crash and the plane, you need to occupy your time with something else.”
“Like what?”
“Get on my lap.”
“I’m not in the mood for sex, Killian.”
“I won’t fuck you.”
“Really?”
“Really. Gareth could hear your loud sounds of pleasure and then I’d have to throw him out of the plane. So come here.”
She hesitates for a beat before she stands up, then stops. “You just said it. Gareth is right there.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t touch you.” I grab her wrist and pull her so her legs are spread out on my thighs.
Then I wrap my arms around her middle, stroking the skin beneath her top in slow circles.
She stares at me for a beat, her breathing slowly calming down. So I kiss her forehead, enjoying the shiver that goes through her body.
“Better?”