Iâm anxious as Gray and I make our way through the airport. I canât control the way my thoughts are spiraling and I hate that Iâm doing this to myself. Iâm second-guessing everything.
I canât believe Iâm really doing this. I canât leave Noah behind like this. Weâve never lived far away from each other, and now thereâll be a five-hour flight between us. Heâs the only family member Iâve got left, and leaving makes me feel like Iâm losing everything.
âAria.â
I look up to find Gray staring at me the way he sometimes does, as though heâs analyzing me.
âYou okay?â
I nod, forcing myself to be brave. The job Gray offered me is a dream come true. Besides, this might just be what I need. I lost my job when I foolishly walked out, and I already know that I wonât find anything even remotely as good as the job at Aequitas.
âYeah, Iâm fine,â I tell Gray.
His eyes roam over my face, as though heâs assessing the truthfulness of my words. Eventually, he nods and grabs my hand, holding it in his. âI might not be Noah, but Iâll try my best to look out for you the way he does. It doesnât come naturally to me, Ari, but Iâll try. You wonât be alone.â
My heart warms, and I canât help but look away. Gray⦠heâs something else. âI know,â I tell him, and I do. I know heâll be there for me, and that makes it just a little easier to see this through.
âCome on,â he says, keeping my hand in his as he pulls me along. I glance at our joint hands, feeling oddly flustered. Noah grabs my hand all the time â especially at stoplights. Heâs held my hand every time we cross a road for years, and he still does it instinctively. It always makes me chuckle, and itâs become a bit of a running joke between us.
Iâve never really thought much of it, but having Gray hold my hand like this feels different. I canât help but notice how large his hands are compared to mine, and I wonder what we look like together. Do people think weâre a couple, or do they think Iâm his little sister? Iâm not wearing make-up and even when I do, my height makes me look like a child.
Gray lets go of me to grab his passport and boarding card, and I reach for my own absentmindedly. I freeze when I look at my ticket. It says Business Class.
Gray booked my ticket for me, and I didnât think much of it, because I figured Iâd just pay him back afterward, but thereâs no way I can afford this. Sometimes I forget Gray is no longer the boy that used to have dinner with us because sharing grocery costs was more affordable. Heâs the CEO of his company â a highly successful company.
Iâm nervous as we approach our seats. Itâd take me forever to save up for this ticket. I shouldâve paid more attention when Gray booked it.
âAria,â he says, snapping me out of my thoughts. âItâs just a company perk. Sit down.â
My cheeks heat and I drop into my seat, buckling myself up in a rush to hide my embarrassment. Was I that transparent?
Gray smirks, and I involuntarily glare at him, which just turns his smirk into a laugh, exposing the dimples in his cheeks. Gray rarely laughs, and itâs a shame because he looks so much more approachable when he does.
I tear my eyes away from him and glance around me curiously. Iâve never sat in an airplane seat this big, and Iâve never seen so many buttons either. Iâm feeling strangely intimidated and out of place. I feel like itâs obvious that Iâm out of my depth, and Iâm both embarrassed and tempted to touch every single thing out of fear that this might be my only chance to do so.
Gray leans back in his seat next to mine and stares at me over the partition. Heâs so large that it does nothing to separate our seats. âGo on, do it,â he tells me, and I raise my brows, earning myself another chuckle. âI know you want to press all the buttons.â
How does he know? How?
Gray sits up and leans over me, pressing one of the buttons. It moves my backrest, and I giggle. He smiles and looks into my eyes, and I suddenly realize how close he is.
âThis one moves your seat,â he tells me, his voice soft. His upper body is hovering over mine, and heâs ditched the jacket he brought on board with him, giving me a clear view of his muscular arms. His T-shirt is plastered against his skin, every single one of his muscles outlined. I tear my gaze away, feeling guilty for even noticing him that way.
âAnd this is for the footrest. Itâs my favorite thing.â
My feet rise and I smile. âDoes that even help you at all?â I ask, and he shakes his head, his eyes on mine.
âNope. Iâm too tall to fit in these seats, so I never lift my footrest all the way up. But you? You fit just fine.â
I laugh as he presses all the other buttons on my seat, one by one. âSo, what is it like up there?â I ask, teasing. âDoesnât sound like being tall is all that beneficial.â
He smirks, his eyes roaming over my face, dipping down to my chest for a split second. âOh, but the view is nice.â
I look into his eyes, my heart skipping a beat. Gray pulls away when the seatbelt lights come on, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Itâs been years since he and I have really hung out together, and I forgot how charismatic he is.
The air hostess goes through the safety demonstration, and I stare at her, my mood dropping as I allow my thoughts to drift. I grip my armrests tightly as anxiety kicks in. Thereâs no going back now. I spent years building a life in Miami. I spent years doing everything I thought I should. For a while, I was certain I had achieved all I wanted. I had a stable job and a boyfriend that I thought adored me. That was as close as I was going to get to being just a regular girl. I shouldâve known better, though. I shouldâve known that life canât be that good. That I canât be that lucky.
I bite down on my lip as my thoughts turn to Brad. I canât help but wonder if heâs with Britney now. Does he love her? Did he ever have feelings for me at all? I was ready to settle down with him. I wouldâve said no to Grayâs job offer just so I could stay with him.
I canât believe I missed the signs. He was always on his phone and he was working late so often, when realistically, he couldâve worked late from his laptop at home. There wasnât much of a reason for him to stay late at the office, but every single time I had any doubts, I made excuses. Iâd tell myself that it was just easier to focus at the office, or that he didnât want to take his work home with him.
My eyes flutter closed as one thought after the other assails me. Would he have stayed if Iâd worked harder to please him in bed? Was it the nightmares I have? Was my past too hard to overcome? I donât know where I went wrong. I canât figure out why I wasnât good enough.