by A. J. Pine
“I do,” Miles said, imagining what the lips so close to his would taste like. “But I’ve never been one for putting on a show.”
Without another word, the man whose name he desperately didn’t want to know stood from his seat and headed toward the final rows of the plane—and the cluster of lavatories that lay beyond.
Miles felt his dick strain against his jeans, the sensation silencing any sort of warning he’d tried to give himself moments before.
He shook his head and grinned, then followed his seatmate to the tail of the aircraft.
After all, a fifth wheel never said no to a sixth, especially when they both seemed to want—or in Miles’s case need—the same thing. A release, something to push the past back to its hiding place in favor of pure physical desire. It’s not like he was a stranger to random hookups, and this one had the promise of no repercussions. When the plane landed, Miles would be on his way, and so would the man with no name. For now, he could stand a little pleasure before a weekend that only promised the reminder of emotional pain.
He barely got the door shut and bolted behind him before Mystery Man’s lips crashed against his. He’d been anticipating how those lips would taste from the second the guy sat down next to him, and the reality did not fall short of the fantasy.
Coffee and something sweet, like he’d just stepped out of a patisserie or some other European-sounding bakery, not like he’d been languishing for hours on a plane, breathing the same recirculated air as hundreds of others.
If this was his first taste of Europe, Miles wasn’t complaining.
He nipped at that full bottom lip, then took in a sharp breath as a strong hand palmed him where he throbbed inside his jeans.
Fuck the playful nipping. Miles felt those lips part against his, and he kissed his delicious stranger hard and deep as the hand on top of his zipper slid down, fingers cupping him firmly as Miles tried to keep his knees from buckling.
He let out a low growl and ran his hands through the thick caramel hair he wanted so desperately to touch.
Miles wasn’t a stranger to casual sex, but there was something agonizing about not knowing this guy’s name, even if it had been his own idea to keep names out of this. A name alone was the shallowest form of identity, yet it established a connection. Whatever happened on this plane, when they disembarked, it would be over. No name. No way to find each other again.
Miles spun his man of mystery so his torso lay pressed against the door. Taut biceps flexed under the tanned skin of his arms. He splayed his palm between his shoulder blades, the man’s thin T-shirt leaving very little to the imagination.
He rocked his pelvis into the small of the stranger’s back and groaned as those tawny arms lifted so his hands could spread against the pocket door. He was letting Miles take the lead.
Miles reached around to find his companion rock hard inside his well-worn jeans, and without warning, the words just fell out.
“I need to know your—”
The lavatory door flew open, and both Miles and the other man tumbled into the cabin, nearly bulldozing Miles’s former seatmate. Passengers in the rearmost seats turned toward the commotion, and Miles did exactly what typical Miles would do in this situation. He smiled, and then he bowed.
“…name,” Miles said under his breath. “I need to know your name.”
“Sygnómi! Sygnómi!”
His fellow occupant chuckled and took it all in stride as the Greek woman kept repeating, over and over until she was locked safely in the lavatory, “Sygnómi! Sygnómi!”
“She’s saying she’s sorry,” the man with no identity said, and Miles shook his head and let out a relieved laugh.
Thank you, he thought as he glanced back at the lavatory door. You saved me from myself.
He was about to turn back toward the cabin when he noticed a rectangle of paper on the floor. His almost-mile-high partner was already heading back toward their seats. Because he hadn’t thought that paper was there before, he bent down and picked it up. Only when he read it did he realize he should have left the trash pickup to those in charge.
Because Miles couldn’t unread what he read, couldn’t unknow what he knew. So he stared at the business card again.
Alexander Karas. Sous Chef. Ambrosia Café.
Thessaloniki
“Are you coming?”
The question sounded like it wasn’t the first time being asked, and Miles realized Alexander must have come back to check on him.
Alexander. Alex. He was totally an Alex. Miles could feel it.
He shoved the card in his front pocket and turned to face the man he was sure he was connected to by so much more than a name now.
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m, uh, gonna head up front for a bit and see my friends. See you in a few?”
Alex smiled. “I’ll save your seat.”
And without another word, he sat back down as Miles did his best not to look like he was rushing to Maggie—but he needed two questions answered, and she would know the first one.
He found her lounging against the window next to her seat, a sleeping Griffin resting his head on her shoulder.
“You look…rumpled,” Maggie said. “You never look rumpled.” She narrowed her eyes. “What were you doing, Miles Parker?”
He shook his head a little too violently, but fuck, she didn’t know how important this was.
“Mags…what’s the name of Elaina’s family’s restaurant?”
She pursed her lips and squinted her eyes.
“You know how much I suck at restaurant names, sweetie. They kind of get filed as unnecessary in the short-term memory department. I can ask Griffin when he wakes up.”
“Hey, what am I? Invisible?”
Miles turned to where he swore Jordan was sleeping just seconds ago.
“Ambrosia,” she said. “Ambrosia Café.”
Question number two—would Miles and Alex be able to leave the plane as strangers, safe from seeing each other again? The odds weren’t looking good.
Maybe it was a good thing the lavatory door wasn’t properly locked and things ended before they went too far.
He knew what Maggie would say if he explained. She’d call it serendipity, say it was meant to be just like when she met Griffin. But serendipity didn’t apply to him, even if knowing Alex’s name only made him want to know more. What would be the point in getting to know a man who lived thousands of miles away? What good would it do to even consider what someone like Alex would think about someone like him?
He didn’t know the answers to those questions, only that they were pushing through all the barriers he’d spent so long constructing.
One thing was for sure. Miles was screwed.
Chapter Nine
Griffin
When the seat-belt sign finally turned off, everyone stood and stretched. Griffin popped open the overhead bin, but he waited for Noah to take down his and Jordan’s bags before retrieving Maggie’s and his own. Noah gave him a tired half smile, acknowledgment that the truce was still in place, and Griffin let out a long breath.
It was still hard for Griffin to see the change in himself since Aberdeen. Waking up next to Maggie every day was a good reminder. So was going to a job that paid him barely enough to live on yet fulfilled him more than he could have imagined. Being offered the fellowship—he still couldn’t wrap his brain around that. And he still hadn’t told Maggie.
“You okay, Fancy Pants?”
Griffin snapped out of his daze to find both hands gripping the frame of the carry-on bin, yet he hadn’t made a move to actually bring their bags down to their seats. He grabbed Maggie’s first and handed it to her.
“Sorry. Just jet-lagged, I guess.” He slung his bag over his shoulder and across his torso. Then he pulled Maggie close¸ burying his face in her hair as he kissed the top of her head. “And I should be the one checking in on you.”
The passengers in front of them began to move, so Maggie didn’t have a chance to respond. Instead
, she threaded her fingers through Griffin’s as they exited the plane, single file. Once out in the open air of the gate, the four of them stopped and waited for Miles. He walked off the jet bridge a few minutes later. But as Miles veered from the stream of passengers who were heading straight to baggage claim, the guy behind him followed him over to the group.
“Hey, guys,” Miles said, and Griffin cleared his throat, nodding just past Miles’s shoulder.
They all watched him turn toward the man who put his hand on Miles’s neck, pulled his head close, and whispered something in his ear.
“I know,” Miles said, loud enough for all of them to hear.
“Miles, sweetie,” Maggie said. “You gonna introduce us to your friend?”
Griffin watched the muscle in Miles’s jaw clench. He was no stranger to that almost inconspicuous tic; it was especially prevalent when Griffin first met Maggie and Miles regarded him as a threat to her happiness—and rightfully so. They were friends now, and Griffin knew the tension Miles was trying to hide was not meant for Maggie.
“Miles,” the stranger said, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Miles.” And then he kissed him, nodded to the group, and left the five of them standing there, jaws on the floor.
Miles grabbed his rolling carry-on. “Shall we?” he asked, and strode past them all.
They stood at the baggage carousel waiting for the final bag of the group—Jordan’s suitcase.
“It’s because it probably exploded,” she joked.
“Oh shit,” Griffin said as Jordan’s bag finally made its way around. As soon as he’d taken his phone off airplane mode, a voicemail had popped up. He listened to it now.
“What?” she asked him.
“What’s up?” Noah echoed.
“Have either of you turned on your phones yet?”
Jordan and Noah both retrieved their phones, her from her purse and Noah from his pocket.
“Oh shit,” Noah said when he looked at his screen.
“Shit is right,” Jordan replied as she listened to her voicemail that Griffin was sure was from Elaina.
“What’s going on?” Maggie asked.
Miles joined in. “Am I missing something?”
“Duncan’s missing,” Jordan said. “Elaina thinks he’s standing her up.”
Noah shook his head. “I don’t think he is.”
“Me, either,” said Griffin.
Noah handed Jordan his phone so she could read the text.
I’m in the Athens airport. Need your help.
Then Griffin handed her his, letting her listen to his voicemail.
“Oi, mate. I’m in a right mess at the moment and was hoping you could help. Athens airport, security holding cell number one. I owe ya one. I’ll explain when you get here. If you get here. Shite, can you get here?”
Jordan gave the phone back to Griffin, and he glanced at Noah, who nodded in silent agreement.
“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?” Miles asked. “I’d kind of like in on the drama.”
Maggie grabbed his hand. “You gonna tell us about that kiss? Because—hello? Drama?”
Miles rolled his eyes, and Jordan spoke up.
“Duncan is missing, but he’s not standing Elaina up. He’s in some kind of trouble in the Athens airport.”
Griffin kissed Maggie on the cheek and then bit his lip before speaking.
“And Noah and I need to go get him.”
His heart sank as he watched Maggie’s eyes widen.
“You’re leaving?” she asked, and Griffin understood the fear in her voice. Maggie was in a strange place with people she barely knew.
Jordan grabbed Maggie’s free hand. “I’ll take good care of her, Griff. You guys just take care of each other.”
“You’re cool if we go?” Noah asked, and Jordan nodded.
“Of course. I just don’t get why he didn’t call Elaina. Her first couple of messages were really frantic, but then the last two were eerily calm, saying stuff about accepting his choice but wanting him to see what he’s missing.”
Noah ran a hand through his hair and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Jordan asked.
“Brooks, do you remember when you introduced me to Elaina?” She nodded. “Look, I love her and everything, but she threatened to kill me in my sleep if I hurt you.”
Griffin chuckled. “Why do you think I drank her Turkish coffee? I was more afraid of the consequences of not drinking it than what it would taste like.”
“She’s scary, Brooks. And I think Duncan’s scared that he fucked this all up.”
Noah pulled her from the group and wrapped her in a hug.
Griffin cupped Maggie’s face in his palms, and she held tight to his wrists, cutting him off before he could speak.
“I’m okay, Fancy Pants.”
He sighed, leaning down to press his forehead against hers.
“This wasn’t the plan, you know,” he said. “To drag you thousands of miles from home and then abandon you.”
Maggie chuckled. “You’ll be gone a few hours, right? I promise I won’t break that quickly.”
He loved her for reassuring him, but it was also because he loved her that he could hear the slight waver in her voice, the tiny bit of worry she couldn’t hide, and it made saying good-bye to her all that much harder.
“You’ve got your meds?” he asked, and Maggie stepped back, rolling her eyes.
“I’m a big girl, Griffin. I can take care of myself. Been doing it for years.” She nodded toward Miles. “Plus, you’re not leaving me alone. I’ve got him.”
Griffin groaned. He didn’t mean to sound like a parent leaving a child home alone for the first time. Of course she could take care of herself, but he was on new ground here, not sure how to proceed. Things were supposed to go off without a hitch—a great trip that would buoy his confidence enough to tell Maggie that he applied for a fellowship, won said fellowship, and was expected to move to Washington, D.C., this fall. No big deal.
Shit. Every time he thought about telling her, something got in the way. Or maybe he let things get in the way because, right now, avoiding the inevitable was preferable to the inevitable itself.
He was an idiot.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m an asshole. I know you’ll be fine. I just—I wasn’t expecting to have to leave you, you know?”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“I know,” Maggie said with a sigh. “It’s okay. I love you for worrying about me. I just wish you didn’t have to.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her toes to kiss him, and he sank into her, his shoulders relaxing as he tried to drink his fill. He might be an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d never have enough of Maggie, would never grow tired of the wholeness he felt only when he was with her.
D.C. wouldn’t happen without her. It couldn’t.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“Love you, too,” she said.
He heard a throat clear and turned to see Jordan and Noah.
“Uh, sorry,” Noah said. “But if we want to catch the next flight to Athens, we need to go now.”
“I like this,” Jordan said, looking at the two men. “You guys are like partners or something. No, you’re like Athos and Porthos going to save Aramis!”
“Excuse me?” Griffin said.
Noah chuckled. “The Three Musketeers.”
“You two seem different,” Maggie said, pointing back and forth between Griffin and Noah.
“Yeah,” Jordan agreed, crossing her arms. “What happened with you two when Maggie and I—uh—went to the bathroom?”
Griffin maintained his poker face and shrugged. “Already told ya. We got stuck behind the drink cart.”
Noah nodded slowly. “What he said.”
“Well,” Jordan continued, “whatever’s going on with you two, it’s really sweet what you’re
doing, saving the groom and all.”
“Guess we’re off to book a flight,” Griffin said. “Athens is only an hour away. We can get there for a hundred bucks each and hopefully get Duncan on the next flight out.”
“Elaina is only about twenty minutes from here. The three of us will hop in a taxi and help her salvage the rest of the day,” Jordan told them.
“And we’ll be back in time for the rehearsal dinner,” Noah said.
“Did you say Elaina lived by her family’s restaurant?” Miles asked, and Jordan nodded.
“Apartment right above it, why?”
“Just curious,” he added.
“I feel like we need to do an official huddle or something,” Maggie said.
And just like that, they all thrust a hand into the center of the circle in which they already stood.
“Operation Save the Groom is on, starting…now!” Griffin said, and each one of them threw their hand in the air.
“You know what they say about the best-laid plans?” Miles asked before the group dispersed.
“What’s that?” Jordan asked.
He shook his head. “Fuck the planning, because it always comes back to bite you in the ass.”
Maggie giggled. “And you thought you weren’t part of the drama, Miles.”
Griffin expelled a sigh of relief. Maggie would be fine. They’d all be fine.
He watched as Miles and Maggie helped Jordan grab Griffin’s and Noah’s checked bags to take with them to Elaina’s, and he and Noah were off, headed toward the ticketing counter while the others made their way outside.
No more excuses. Griffin didn’t want anything coming back to bite him in the ass, so he made himself a promise to come clean with Maggie tonight.
Chapter Ten
Duncan
Airport Security Officer Kostas left the room to fetch a coffee for each of his alleged transgressors. He may have been shite in the crime-solving department, but at least he had the decency to offer Duncan and the arsehole refreshments.