Mile High by Cranford B

Author:Cranford, B.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: B. Cranford
Published: 2019-09-15T16:00:00+00:00

7

Lucas

“You going to go after her?”

“Huh?” I forced myself to stop watching Bianca as she made her way down the aisle, clearly heading for the back of the plane and the toilets. Turning to look at the man who shared our row, I found that he’d already sat back in his aisle seat, dropped his tray table down and put his dinner rubbish back on it.

He’d actually made it so I couldn’t sit down without asking him to move. Again.

I have to get up. She’d looked so . . . broken when she’d made that request, there was no way I could deny her. Tray tables and plastic cutlery be damned.

“You’re going after her, right?” The man spoke again, his voice quiet but all the more compelling for it. “You need to be there when she gets out of the bathroom, man.”

I thought about that, wondered if he was right. Would that scare her? I opened my mouth to ask him, when he spoke again.

“Take it from a man who’s been married for a few years now”—he looked down at the ring on his left hand, a small smile forming—“she needs you. But not to press her for more. Just be there, so she’s not alone.”

I nodded slowly. He made sense—I could be there to make sure she was okay, without expecting anything from her. I mean, I was still reeling from that kiss too.

That kiss.

Fuck, but it had been the single most intense experience of my life.

Holding out my hand, I said, “Thanks, man. ’Preciate it.”

He took it, shaking firmly. “Good luck, Lucas.”

Dropping his hand—and letting my eyes widen in question—I asked, “You know my name?”

“I can’t help but overhear you two, you know,” he replied with a laugh. “Seems like there’s something good happening.”

Remembering the way he’d first said, “Jesus,” then later joked about Herbie the Love Bug, I laughed with him, a new opinion forming of the man who’d interrupted us. “Right. Sorry about that.”

He shrugged. “No big deal. You don’t have smelly feet, you’re not trimming your nails or eating a can of tuna, and you’re not crowding me, so I can handle being on the sidelines of flirting.” His smile was that of a man who’d had some terrible flying experiences. “I’m Anton. And you’d better get a move on, man.”

My eyes darted down the aisle, Bianca now nowhere in sight. “Thanks, Anton.”

His nod was shallow, the acceptance of my gratitude obvious, and then I was moving carefully down the small aisle, trying to avoid overhanging elbows or legs stretched out in the hunt for a few extra centimeters of room. The cabin was starting to get quieter, though this part of the plane had yet to be cleared of dinner debris, and I wondered what these passengers had thought when Bianca had passed by.

Had they been paying attention to the gorgeous woman with sad eyes? Because they should’ve been, and I had a feeling they hadn’t. That they, like her cockweasel of an ex, hadn’t seen her.

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