Better

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Better Page 7

by Carey Heywood


  I stand and pause when I feel light-headed before moving past him to where my bag is. I dump the lotion bottle on top of my bag before moving back to the couch.

  I push the sheet and blanket back. “I’m going to…”

  I gesture to the sofa, and he nods, freeing more tiny beads of water to fall from his hair.

  “I’m setting the alarm for five. The cab will be here at six. That enough time for you?”

  My back is to him, but I can hear him opening the cabinet with his bed. The hinges groan as he slowly lowers it to the ground behind me.

  “Sounds good,” I manage.

  It’s hard to concentrate. From where the cabinet hiding his Murphy bed is to where the couch is, it’s like we’re sharing one large bed with a small gap between them. It would feel less awkward if my head were at the opposite end of the couch, but it’s not.

  The only thing keeping me from being perfectly lined up to him is the small end table between the wall and the couch. Instead of being even with his face if I turned over, I’d probably be level with his abs. It is much safer to sleep with my back to any of that tonight.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and try to burrow myself under the blanket as a strong hand shakes my shoulder.

  “Five more minutes,” I mumble.

  I hear a chuckle behind me before he says, “No can do,” and he pulls the blanket off of me.

  I reach in vain for it, but he’s too fast, so I cover my face with my arm and try to tuck myself into the back of the couch.

  “C’mon, Aubrey. The cab is going to be here soon.”

  It takes me a moment to remember where I am. I lift my head, turning it to look back at Adam, and I squint at him with one eye. His Murphy bed is already put away, and he’s already dressed, looking too annoyingly put together this early in the morning.

  I turn the rest of the way, sliding my legs out, until they fall off the sofa, and I use my arm to hoist myself up into a sitting position. I’ve never been much of a morning person. It usually takes me some time to fully wake up.

  I blink at him for a minute, and then I yawn, narrowing my eyes at him when I see one corner of his mouth briefly pull up. I’m tired. I don’t feel like amusing anyone. I tilt my head to the side and wince at how stiff it feels. His couch is deep, but I must have slept weird on it anyway.

  I roll my head a couple of times as I rub my neck, too tired to care that he’s watching me. I stand, walking over to my bag to grab my clothes for today, and I head to the bathroom.

  I laugh when I see my reflection. The ribbing from the pillow I used last night has left its mark across my cheek, and my hair seems to be defying gravity on one side as it concaves on the other. I ignore it and change first, feeling more clothed the second I have a bra on.

  Once I’m dressed, I tackle my hair. Deciding to wet it and let it dry all over again is the safest way to go. I brush my teeth and wash my face. I don’t wear much makeup normally, but I swear by tinted moisturizer.

  Once I’m ready, I repack all of my toiletries and walk out. Adam looks surprised that I got ready so fast.

  Ha, I think to myself, remembering last night when he told someone I was spoiled.

  It still bugs me. He doesn’t even know me. I kneel in front of my suitcase and check and then double-check it before wrapping my TSA-approved strap-style lock around it.

  “That’s some lock,” he says, leaning over me.

  I shrug. “My mom found it in some catalog.”

  I flip my backpack over and rummage through it for my watch.

  “Are those solar panels?”

  I glance up at him. “Cool, huh? My mom found it—”

  “In a catalog,” he finishes, one corner of his mouth pulling up.

  I nod. Once I’ve found my watch, I put it on. It’s crazy high-tech. It has time zones, temperatures, multiple alarm settings, and other stuff I haven’t figured out yet. I have the manual to read on the plane. The only problem with it is that it’s huge, dwarfing my wrist. I cover it with the sleeve of my gray shirt and stand.

  “We can grab some breakfast at the café across the street and wait for the cab.”

  I nod, pulling my backpack on before I stand. I reach for my bag, but he pushes my hand away, picking it up himself.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I argue.

  “It’s cool,” he mumbles, motioning with his head for me to go ahead of him.

  I hold the door open for him. He moves past me, setting our bags down on the landing, before locking the door behind us. He pulls an envelope out from the back pocket of his jeans and drops the key in it. Then, he slides the envelope under his neighbor’s door before picking our bags back up and making his way down the stairs.

  I walk behind him, my eyes glued to the ridges of his biceps straining against the fabric of his shirt. I’m not paying attention to my feet, and I grab the railing before I stumble into him. When he glances back, I’m innocently inspecting the ceiling molding, purposely avoiding his eyes.

  I take over pulling my suitcase once we’re on the ground floor. He holds the door for me, and then I follow him across the street to a small sidewalk café.

  “What do you want?” he asks, setting his suitcase next to a bistro-style table.

  “You don’t have to buy me breakfast.” I slip my bag off of one shoulder, so I can swing it around in front of me. My wallet is in it.

  He waves his hand. “George will kick my ass if I let you pay.”

  I zip my bag shut and shrug it off before hanging it on the back of my chair. I sit down and look at the chalkboard-style menu on the wall.

  “Can I get a bacon and egg sandwich with an orange juice?”

  He nods, taking off his backpack and setting it on his chair, before going to place our orders. He walks back with two cups a minute later.

  “Not a coffee drinker?” he asks, passing me a cup.

  “I drink coffee, just not every day,” I say before taking a sip of my drink.

  He moves his bag from his chair to the ground and sits. “George will bring the food out in a sec.”

  I look away and take another sip of my juice.

  “Didn’t you say you needed caffeine or a shower to wake up?” he asks, gesturing to my cup.

  I point to my still damp hair. “Sink bath.”

  He nods, and then he turns as a man carrying a tray comes up next to our table.

  “So, this is your travel companion?”

  Adam’s face breaks into a wide grin. I stare at his teeth. He could advertise toothpaste.

  “George, this is Aubrey. Aubrey, this is George. George and I grew up together.”

  I look up and smile at George. He’s on the round side and shorter than Adam, but he seems nice. He sets our food on the table and pulls another chair over to sit with us.

  I’ve just taken a bite when he says to Adam, “You didn’t mention that she’s so pretty.”

  My eyes flick to Adam’s as I try to swallow my bite without choking. His eyes meet mine.

  “That’s because I just met her last night.”

  “Where are you guys heading to first?”

  It’s his friend, so I focus on my sandwich and let him do the talking. George leaves after a minute when his boss shouts for him to get back to work. Adam checks his watch before eating his sandwich in two bites. He washes it down with the rest of his coffee.

  “Hurry up,” he orders, sounding like my dad. “The cab will be here any second.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, but I don’t say anything as I finish my breakfast. He better not be so bossy the whole trip.

  I’ve just finished when the cab pulls up. He takes our trash and dumps it in a can before waving at the cabbie. I’m putting on my backpack as he grabs both of our suitcases and makes his way back across the street. I give a half wave to George before jogging after Adam. My head is still turned, and I jump when a car honks at me.

  I mouth, Sorry, and dash the rest of the way across the street.

  “B
e careful,” Adam snaps when I reach him.

  I step around him and climb into the cab. I pull my bag into my lap and pout. He didn’t need to grouch at me. When he climbs in on the other side, I pointedly look out my window.

  “You kids going to JFK, right?” the cabbie confirms.

  “Yep,” Adam replies.

  My hand is on the seat between us. I shift it closer to the back of the seat and bump into Adam’s hand. I glance down at our hands before I pick mine up and cross my arms, which is dumb because I slide into him at the first turn.

  “God, sorry,” I mumble.

  Adam laughs, pushing me off himself. I hold on to the door handle the rest of the ride.

  Adam pays the cabbie when we get to the airport. I offer, but he just shakes his head. He walks quickly inside, and I struggle to keep up with him. A couple of times, he looks back at me like he’s annoyed.

  “Asshole,” I mumble under my breath before I catch up with him.

  The line to check-in is long, but it moves quickly. I move my suitcase between myself and the pushy lady behind me after she hits the back of my foot twice. It moves me closer to Adam, and the look he gives—like he thinks I’m doing it for him—annoys me.

  When the line moves again, I purposely leave a good-sized gap between us. When Adam walks up to the counter agent, he motions for me to follow him. He puts his hand out for my ticket and passport. I pause before handing them to him, not really sure why I couldn’t have just handed them to the lady myself.

  Once we’re checked in, I have to jog to keep up with him as we head to the security check section. I’m annoyed with him, so I pick a different line than him. He rolls his eyes at me as he takes off his shoes. I mentally will my line to move faster than his, so I can beat him. It doesn’t. In fact, my line takes way longer.

  I avoid his eyes when I walk over to where he’s waiting for me. He doesn’t say anything. He just turns and starts walking toward our gate.

  I don’t even try to keep up with him. There are too many people, and we have plenty of time to get to our gate. When I finally get there, I look around for him. He bobs his head up when my eyes find him. His bag is on the seat next to him. He moves it when I walk up.

  “Thanks,” I mumble, sinking into the seat.

  “I lost you back there.”

  I glance at him. “You walk too fast for me.”

  He has the decency to look embarrassed. “You should have said something.”

  I shrug. “I caught up.”

  “True, but it’s rude. I’m sorry.”

  My mouth drops. “You don’t have to apologize for walking fast.”

  He shakes his head. “I’m supposed to be looking out for you.”

  “I’m not a kid. I don’t need a babysitter,” I grumble.

  His mouth twitches before he looks away.

  I reach into my bag for my watch manual.

  “What are you reading?” he asks, leaning over my shoulder.

  I move away from him, and I press the manual to my chest, so he won’t see it. “Nothing.”

  “Is that a manual?” he asks, trying to lift one of my fingers.

  I close my eyes and hand it to him, doing my best to ignore his chuckle. My eyes are still closed when he sets it back down on my lap. My eyes flick open, and I shove the manual back into my bag.

  “That’s a thick manual for a watch.” He picks up my hand and pushes my sleeve back to look at it. “That thing is huge. It’d be big on my wrist.”

  I tug my arm back and pull my sleeve down to cover my watch. “Chunky watches are in right now.”

  One corner of his mouth pulls up. “Did your mom find it in a catalog?”

  I can’t help but smile. “Maybe,” I admit.

  We start boarding not long after. Adam has an aisle seat, so I’ll have to climb over him every time I need to get up. Great.

  On the other side of me is a pretty blonde. She gets an eyeful of Adam and immediately starts a conversation with him over me. The worst part is that he lets her. She leans on the armrest between our seats, her cleavage millimeters from my arm. He doesn’t seem to mind.

  This is not how I pictured this moment. I wanted a chance to reflect and think about Ally. I needed to feel her and have her still be a part of this journey. What I did not need was boobs in my face.

  “Do you want me to switch seats with you?” I grit once we’re in the air.

  “No, I’m good. Did you want the aisle?”

  I smirk at him. “I just thought you might enjoy your conversation better if you were sitting here.”

  He smirks. “That so?”

  “Do you two know each other?” she asks.

  I smile tightly and answer honestly, “Not really.”

  Then, I pull out my watch manual to read while I ignore them. I put it away after I have successfully set the time zone for home. I pull out headphones, so I can watch a movie, and I am surprised when Adam does the same.

  “Which one are you going to watch?” he asks.

  We each have our own screen mounted into the seat in front of us. There is a menu of movies and TV shows available. I shrug as I scroll through them. I was going to watch a chick flick, but I am embarrassed to admit it. I feel like he would judge my choice, so I decide to watch a crime drama instead.

  “I’ll watch it with you,” Adam says, putting his headphones on and touching his screen to get to the same movie.

  “Watch what you want to watch.”

  “I don’t like watching movies alone,” he says as he scrolls through the menu.

  “But we’ll both be wearing headphones,” I argue.

  He shrugs, pulling up the same movie that’s on my screen. He reaches across me and presses the button to start both screens at the same time. The girl in the seat next to mine fumbles with her screen, trying to catch up with ours. I don’t know why this makes me happy, but it does. I like that he didn’t set up her screen.

  During a particularly suspenseful scene, I jump. I glance over at Adam and catch him trying not to laugh.

  Whatever, I think to myself. I’m totally watching that chick flick next.

  A stewardess comes around to pass out drinks, and again not long after with lunch. After the stewardess comes back around to clear our trash, I pause my movie, and Adam stops his as well.

  “You can keep watching. I was just going to go use the restroom.”

  He unbuckles his belt. “I’ll go with you.”

  “I can go to the restroom by myself. I promise, I won’t get lost,” I joke.

  “I know that. I might also need to go.”

  I can’t argue with that logic. He stands, moving back, to let me walk in front of him. I use the tops of the seats to keep my balance as I walk. I’ve never been good at walking on a plane.

  When I get to the restrooms, I grimace. There’s a line. The guy in front of me turns his head back to look at me, and he smiles. I give a polite closed-mouth smile back and jump when Adam comes up close behind me. The guy in front of me sees him and turns his head back around. I glare at Adam.

  He ignores my look and nonchalantly says, “Tight squeeze back here,” to excuse how close he’s standing next to me. “So, what do you think of the movie?”

  I lean against the wall. “That part with the dog freaked me out.”

  His mouth twitches. “I noticed.”

  I turn to face him. “So, why didn’t you want to switch seats? I think that girl is interested in you.”

  He looks up at the ceiling. “I’m not interested in her.”

  I’m curious. “Why not?”

  His gray eyes meet mine. “Just not.”

  I tilt my head. “Well, that clears it up.”

  I see the line has moved, and I take another step forward. Adam follows me even though no one is behind him. Two doors open at the same time.

  I look at him. “Race you.”

  Why did I say that? I wonder.

  I don’t really want to race. I just want to go to the re
stroom and not trip or fall walking back to my seat. When I open the door, Adam is waiting there for me.

  “I won,” is all he says before walking back toward our seats.

  I roll my eyes and follow him. He stands there, waiting for me, so I can sit first. I try not to laugh when I notice the girl next to us paused her movie as well.

  I slip my headphones back on. He starts both of our movies at the same time again. I check my watch and groan when I realize we aren’t even halfway yet. He must have noticed.

  He’s looking at me and mouths, Okay?

  I nod and look back at the screen.

  After the movie, the girl next to us produces a deck of cards, and we play poker for a while. I so catch Adam sneaking a peek at my hand more than once. I watch my chick flick when playing cards gets boring. I’m a little surprised when Adam decides to watch as well, and I’m less surprised when the girl does too.

  This movie is hotter than I expected. I start feeling flushed after a couple of scenes, and I turn my fan on. I catch Adam suppressing a smile out of the corner of my eye. I wonder if scenes like this affect guys the same way or if they need more nudity.

  I find myself watching him out of the corner of my eye during the steamy parts. I look at him again, only to find him watching me.

  I snap my eyes forward in an attempt to play off that he just caught me. I try to get back into the movie, but instead, I’m hyperaware of his presence next to me. I’m fighting an internal battle against sneaking another glance at him.

  I don’t get why I’m having this type of reaction to him. He’s good-looking, but there’s something else, something I can’t explain. In moments like these, when I’m not actively disliking him, I feel a pull to him. We’ll be circling the globe together, and the sensation I feel toward Adam is almost gravitational.

  I wish I could get a read on him. He’s done nice things for me, but he has also been a dick. I get that he’s here to look out for me, but it really pisses me off when he gets bossy. Like last night, when he wanted to inspect my luggage. What was that about? Then, today, walking all fast, not even paying attention to if I could keep up. Total jerk move. Yes, he apologized, but it was still annoying. It’s hard to stay angry though when he does stuff like buy me breakfast or carry my bag.

 

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