I text Hardin when I get back to my car, telling him that my appointment went well, and head back to Christian and Kimberly’s house. By the time I arrive, I’ve convinced myself that I’ll spend the week avoiding the topic. There’s no reason to worry myself when Dr. West assured me that nothing was definite at this point. The hollowness in my chest says otherwise, but I have to ignore it and move on for now. I’m going to England. For the first time in my life, I’m going to be traveling outside of the state of Washington, and I couldn’t be more excited. Nervous, but excited.

chapter

one hundred and thirty

HARDIN

Tessa looks like she could pass out any minute. She’s shoved an ink pen between her teeth as she looks over her checklist again. Apparently traveling across the globe kicks her neurotic tendencies into high gear.

“Are you sure you have everything?” I sarcastically ask.

“What? Yes,” she huffs, focused on the task of rechecking her carry-on bag for the tenth time since we arrived at the airport.

“If we don’t go inside now, we’re going to miss our flight,” I warn her.

“I know.” She looks up at me, her hand still digging around that damn bag. She’s crazy—adorable as hell, but fucking nuts. “You’re sure about leaving your car here?” she asks.

“Yes. That’s what this parking lot is for: cars.” I point up at the Long-Term Parking sign above our heads and say, “It’s for cars with no commitment issues.”

Tessa stares at me blankly, as if I’ve said nothing at all.

“Just give me the bag,” I say, pulling the hideous thing from her shoulder. It’s too heavy for her to be carrying around. The woman has packed half of her shit in this bag alone.

“I’ll pull the case, then.” She reaches for the handle of the wheelie suitcase.

“No, I’ve got it. Relax, would you? It’ll be fine,” I assure her. I’ll never forget how frantic she was this morning. Folding and refolding, packing and repacking our clothes until they fit perfectly in the case. I took it easy on her, because I know how beyond her element this trip is. Even though she’s being as annoying as ever, I can’t help but feel excited. Excited to be taking her on her first trip abroad, excited at the prospect of watching her blue-gray eyes widen at the clouds as we fly through them. I made sure she had a seat next to the window for that reason alone.

“Ready?” I ask her as the automatic doors open as if to greet us.

“No.” She smiles nervously, and I lead her through the crowded airport.

“YOU’RE GOING TO PASS OUT on me, aren’t you?” I lean over and whisper to Tessa. She’s pale, and her small hands are shaking on her lap. I gather them in one of mine and offer her an assuring squeeze. She smiles at me, a nice change from the scowl that covered her face the entire time from the ticket kiosk until now.

That TSA agent was hitting on her; I recognized the stupid fucking grin on his face when she smiled at him. I have the same fucking grin. I had every right to tell him to fuck off, but of course she didn’t agree, and she’d been scowling since she dragged me away, my middle finger high in the air at that asshole. “Thank God that guy’s so nearsighted,” she mumbled, and then kept looking back over her shoulder.

Her attitude only worsened when I pressed for her to do up her cardigan. The old man next to me is a fucking pervert, and Tessa’s lucky she has the window seat and I can shield her from his eyes. Being stubborn, she refused to button the damn thing, leaving her tits on display for everyone to see. Granted, the shirt isn’t that low cut, but when she bends down, you can see straight down it. She ignored my protests and claimed that I can’t control her. I’m not trying to control her, I’m trying to prevent men from ogling over her not-so-subtle chest.

“No, I’m okay,” she hesitantly answers. Her eyes give her away.

“We should be taking off anytime.” I glance up at the flight attendant making her way through the cabin to check the overhead compartments for the third time. They’re all fucking closed, lady; let’s get a move on it before I have to carry Tessa off of this plane. Actually, halting the trip could work in my favor, really.

“Last chance to hop off of the plane. The tickets aren’t refundable, but I’ll go ahead and add them to your tab,” I say, tucking her loose hair behind her ear, and she gives me the smallest smile I’ve ever seen. She’s still mad, but her nerves are causing her to soften up toward me.

“Hardin,” she quietly whines. She rests her head against the window and closes her eyes. I hate to see her so nervous; it makes me anxious, and this trip has me on fucking anxiety overload as it is. I lean across and pull the cover down over her window, hoping that will help.

“How much longer?” I impatiently bark at the flight attendant as she passes our row.

Her eyes move from Tessa to me, and she raises a snooty brow. “A few minutes.” She forces a smile for the sake of her job. The man next to me shifts uncomfortably, and I wish I had purchased an extra ticket so I wouldn’t have to worry about sitting this close to an obnoxious asshole. He smells like stale tobacco.

“It’s been longer than a few—” I begin.

Tessa’s hand reaches over to mine; her eyes are now open, pleading with me not to cause a scene. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes to heighten the drama of the act.

“Fine,” I say, turning away from the attendant, who continues down the aisle.

“Thank you,” Tessa mouths. Instead of resting her head against the window, she gently rests it against my arm. I tap her thigh and signal for her to lift up so I can put my arm around her. She nuzzles into me and sighs in contentment as I gently tighten my arm around her body. I love that sound.

The plane begins to move slowly down the runway, and Tessa’s eyes screw shut.

By the time the plane is in the air, she has the window cover raised and her eyes are wide with wonder as she stares out at the rapidly shrinking landscape. “This is amazing.” She grins. All the color has now seeped back into her face. She’s glowing with excitement, and it’s contagious as hell. I try to fight my grin, but it’s impossible, as she babbles on about how everything “just looks so small.”

“See, it wasn’t so bad. We haven’t crashed yet,” I disdainfully remark.

In response, murmers and annoyed coughs start wafting through the nearly silent cabin, but I don’t give a shit. Tessa understands my humor, for the most part at least, and she shoots me an eye roll and gives me a playful jab in the chest.

“Hush,” she warns, and I chuckle.

After three hours, she’s restless. I knew she would be; we’ve watched some of the shitty programming the airline sponsors and gone through the SkyMall magazine twice, both of us agreeing that a dog crate disguised as a television stand is certainly not worth two thousand dollars.

“It’s going to be a long nine hours,” I say to her.

“Only six now,” she corrects me. Her fingers trace the infinity-heart tattoo above my wrist.

“Only six,” I repeat. “Take a nap.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She looks up at me. “What do you think my father is doing? I mean, I know Landon watched him last time you were away, but we’ll be gone for three days this time.”

Fuck. “He’ll be fine.” He’s going to be annoyed, but he’ll get over it and thank her later.

“I’m glad we declined your father’s offer,” she says.

Fucking hell. “Why?” I choke, searching her face.

“The rehab place is too expensive.”

“And?”

“I don’t feel comfortable with your father spending that amount of money on my father. It’s not his responsibility, and we don’t know for sure that my father is even—”