by Susannah Nix
How the hell was Adam so relaxed under the circumstances? His discomfort at the crowded airport seemed to have dissipated, along with his momentary stress over their delayed travel plans. How did he do that? Just let things go, and embrace the unknown future without a care?
Olivia couldn’t help feeling a little envious. It was exhausting always thinking ahead and trying to prepare for every outcome and surprise that might lie around the corner. Why did people like him get to relax while she was putting in all the advance work to help things run smoothly?
He was so relaxed, in fact, that he might actually have dropped off to sleep—sitting on the floor of a crowded airport, with only fifteen minutes until their boarding time.
How was that even possible? He’d been talking just a minute ago, and now his breathing had slowed and his shoulders were sagging and his lips were slightly parted.
Seriously?
She gave his arm an exploratory nudge and his head snapped up like he’d been jolted with electricity.
“Were you asleep?” Olivia asked in amazement.
He rubbed a hand over his face. “Maybe. Why?”
“We should probably go stand by the gate.”
“We’ve still got fifteen minutes, and we’re in the last boarding group.”
“Which means most of the overhead bins will be full by the time we get on board. We need to be the first in our boarding group if we want any chance of stowing our bags.”
“We can always just gate check.”
“It takes forever to get your bags when you gate check, and we’ve already lost enough time today, don’t you think?”
“Fine.” He pushed himself begrudgingly to his feet and held out a hand to help her off the floor.
She accepted his hand as begrudgingly as he’d stood up, levering herself upright and letting go of him as quickly as possible—but not so quickly she failed to appreciate the rough warmth of his skin.
They started toward their gate, but when they passed a restroom she stopped and shoved her roller bag at him. “I want to use the bathroom one more time before we board.”
His mouth pursed in irritation. “You know they have bathrooms on the plane, right?”
“I hate using airplane bathrooms. They’re tiny, and between the people with bad aim and the periodic turbulence, I’m pretty sure every single surface has been spattered with urine. It’d be one thing if I didn’t have to sit down—”
“Okay, Jesus. Just go.” He took her roller bag and moved over against the wall to wait out of the way.
If he wasn’t so annoyed by it, she wouldn’t enjoy making him wait half so much. She was almost tempted to make him wait again while she stopped off to buy more airplane snacks, but since she could already see people lining up at the gate, she decided to forgo further Adam tormenting.
They lined up with the other three hundred people flying to Houston with them. Adam began to grow tense again as the impatient crowd filled in behind and around them. His neck muscles stood out taut as bowstrings, and his mouth pressed into a thin line as his eyes flicked around him.
Olivia wasn’t uneasy in crowds like Adam clearly was, but she always struggled a bit because of her size. People tended to overlook her and try to usurp her space by using their size advantage to crowd her out of the way. She was used to it though, so she’d learned to defend herself with the tools she had at hand: her big purse, her elbows, and even the judicious application of her shoe heel when necessary.
The large man standing next to her at the gate was doing that thing where he kept bumping into her as he talked to the woman he was traveling with, oblivious both to Olivia standing there and her attempts to make her presence known by nudging him back. She was on the verge of employing her signature move, which involved turning sharply to look at something and “accidentally” letting her heavy purse slam into the offender at full force, when Adam’s hand wrapped around her arm.
He shifted her away from the shoving guy and edged over to take her place. Only there wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver in the crowd, which meant he basically had to press the front of his body against her back and do a sort of sliding shimmy to get past.
The move clearly wasn’t intended to be sexual, but the sensations it inspired in Olivia definitely were. She couldn’t help it—he was basically dirty dancing up against her, and she swallowed a lump in her throat as her ass glided across his thighs.
Once he was standing next to the big guy, who wasn’t really all that big after all, Adam casually hip-checked him, giving him a dose of his own medicine. The man took a stumbling step away, opening up more space which Adam immediately moved to fill.
Olivia snorted in amusement, and Adam looked pleased with himself. “Better?”
“Yes, thank you. But I could have handled him.”
“Okay.”
“I’m used to crowds. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can.” There was amusement in his voice, but it was the good kind of amusement. Warm amusement. Fond sounding, almost.
But that was impossible, because Adam Cortinas was not fond of her. He didn’t even like her enough to give her a simple fucking reference.
Except the way he was looking at her said otherwise. His eyes were soft and flecked with gold at the center that glittered at her like he was pleased. All the tautness she’d noticed a moment ago had melted away, and his head was tilted slightly to one side. As he continued to gaze at her, he bit down on his lower lip, and—Jesus jumping Christ on a pogo stick—that sexy lip bite was too fucking much to handle.
“Why aren’t they boarding yet?” Olivia wondered, turning away to peer at the gate—which was a futile exercise, given her height and the comparative heights of the people around them, but at least it allowed her to look at something other than Adam’s lips.
“They never board on time, remember?”
Her hand squeezed the handle of her roller bag. “I’m just worried this flight is going to be delayed too, and then it’ll turn out we would have been better off sticking with the first one.”
“It’s done now. There’s no point second-guessing the decision. Relax.”
And just like that, her hackles were up again. “Can you quit telling me to relax?”
“I’m just saying, worrying about problems before they happen won’t accomplish anything.”
“Actually, worrying about problems before they happen is how you head them off before they become problems.”
“It’s also how you stress yourself into high blood pressure.”
“My blood pressure is fine.”
“If you say so.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but stopped when a voice came on the PA system to announce pre-boarding for their flight to Houston.
Adam looked smug. “See, they’ve started boarding. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“Don’t jinx it!” she hissed.
He made a scoffing sound. When she continued to glare at him, he tilted his head at her, narrowing his eyes. “Wait. Are you serious?”
“Yes. You’ll bring down the wrath of the whatever with that kind of cockiness.”
He looked disconcerted. “You don’t actually believe that.”
“I believe it’s not worth taking the chance.”
“I thought you were more rational than that. Aren’t you an electrical engineer?”
“An education in science doesn’t preclude the belief that there might be forces in the universe outside our understanding. In fact, it’s far more rational to accept that we can’t know everything and leave yourself open to possibility.”
“The realm of the possible is not infinite.” He put his hand on her shoulder to edge her out of the path of a passenger in a wheelchair being pushed through the mob of people. The crowd was like a living, breathing thing swelling toward the gate, but Adam stood his ground like a pylon in the surge, making a safe little bubble to shelter her from the pushing and shoving around them. “Whether we understand it o
r not, there is a mundane, scientific explanation for everything, and it does not involve jinxes, woo-woo, or not stepping on a crack to avoid breaking your mother’s back.”
Olivia shrugged, enjoying how much her position seemed to bother him. “You live your life your way, and I’ll live my way. But keep your fate-tempting to yourself.”
“There’s no such thing as fate. The universe is ruled by cause and effect.”
“Exactly. And by acting too cocky you can bring a bad outcome down on yourself.” She wasn’t so superstitious that she really believed that—it was more a habit than anything—but it obviously rankled him, and she was having too much fun to let it go.
“That’s not cause and effect.” His voice rose with his dismay. “You know that, right? Please tell me you know that.”
She shifted closer to him as the first general boarding group was called, sending a ripple effect through the crowd. “It could be. You don’t know everything about how it works. We’re only just barely beginning to understand chaotic complex systems and their sensitivity to initial conditions. For all we know, superstitions are based on an innate understanding of the laws of the universe we’ve yet to explain scientifically.”
She could tell she’d scored a point, because he crossed his arms and glared in the direction of the gate. “In the meantime, I’ll stick to believing in things that can be scientifically tested and proven.”
“Are you saying you don’t have faith in anything but science? There’s nothing silly or romantic or fantastical you believe just because it makes you happy to believe it?”
His chin lifted, and he sniffed as if she’d suggested he try adding dog turds to his salad. “I believe in observable, measurable, and repeatable phenomena. Not fantasies and children’s stories.”
“That’s sad.”
He looked affronted. “It’s not sad.”
“It is. The reason humankind invented religion is because it’s comforting to believe in something bigger than your own understanding.”
His eyes flashed in triumph. “You just admitted that it’s all invented.” If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was enjoying himself.
“So what if it is? That doesn’t make it any less powerful.”
“It literally does.”
“I mean emotionally powerful. Psychologically. Life isn’t an experiment, it’s an experience. By refusing to believe in anything that can’t be measured by empirical evidence, you’re closing yourself off to wonder and the comfort of belief.”
His eyes moved over her face in surprise, like he was reassessing what he saw there. “I would not have guessed you were this religious.”
“I’m not. You don’t have to believe in religion. You can put your faith in anything you want, so long as it gives you hope and makes the world a little more wondrous.”
“There’s more than enough wonder in science.” His gaze dropped to her mouth for a second before skating away. “I don’t need more than that.”
“Everyone needs more wonder in their lives.”
“You can really just believe in stuff? Just like that? Things you know aren’t real.”
Was she crazy or was that a hint of envy she detected in his expression?
“Millions of children believe in Santa,” she said. “His image is everywhere you look for two months out of the year, and every Christmas Eve presents appear under the tree from him. So is he real or not?”
“He’s not real. Obviously.”
“But he is. He might just be a story, but stories have power. He inspires people and brings joy and hope and excitement into children’s lives, and that’s very real.”
“You’re saying you believe in Santa Claus?” He was smiling at her now.
“I’m saying he’s a force that exerts influence on objects in the universe, so whether or not he’s a literal living person who delivers the toys himself is beside the point.”
“No, it’s not. The aim of science is to accurately describe the world around us, so determining whether he’s an actual living organism or simply a folktale that’s been co-opted by capitalism as a mascot for the marketing juggernaut of the Christmas season is precisely the point.”
She pursed her lips at him. “You’re a real buzzkill, you know that?”
His smile turned wry. “So I’ve been told.”
“Santa Claus is real if you believe he’s real,” she said stubbornly.
“So you do believe in Santa Claus?” There was that warm amusement in his voice again.
“Maybe I do, a little, because it makes me happy to believe he could exist, along with fairies and Bigfoot and narwhals.”
“Narwhals are real.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious. Did you not know that?”
Her eyes widened. “I thought they were made up like unicorns.”
He shook his head, huffing an amused breath. “They’re very real.”
“I literally thought they were from a Lewis Carroll poem.”
“You’re thinking of the Jabberwock.”
She smiled, impressed he knew which poem she was talking about. “And the frumious Bandersnatch.”
“Isn’t that the guy who played Dr. Strange?” Adam deadpanned, looking pleased when Olivia laughed. “But see?” He jostled her shoulder with his. “Narwhals exist in the world and you didn’t even know. There’s still plenty of wonder in science. Leave the make-believe for fiction.”
“Make-believe is fun. You should try it sometime.” She didn’t mean it to sound dirty. Honestly she didn’t. But somehow it came out dirty-sounding anyway.
He shook his head at her again, smiling in a way that seemed to shimmer in the air between them. “You’re nuts, Woerner.”
The disembodied voice over the PA called out their boarding group, and their portion of the crowd surged forward like a herd of starving cattle. Adam rested his hand in the small of her back to fend off any rude, pushy folks who might try to shove her out of the way. Olivia wanted to feel resentful, but somehow she couldn’t muster the will to mind.
When she finally showed the gate agent her boarding pass and took her first step onto the jetway, she felt a powerful sense of relief.
They’d made it onto the plane. Maybe things really were going to be fine now.
Not that she’d dare say that out loud.
Chapter Five
“I can get it,” Olivia insisted when Adam tried to help hoist her carry-on into the overhead bin.
He let go of her bag and watched while she stood on her tiptoes and gave a little hop, trying to shove the bag into place. “You sure about that?” he asked with that smirky smile that made her blood boil.
She hated that because she was short, she didn’t have the leverage to maneuver her bag into the overhead like everyone else. She was strong enough to lift it, she just wasn’t tall enough to give it the shove it needed to slide into place. It was always a problem for her when she traveled, but she’d be damned if she’d let Adam think she couldn’t do it herself.
With another vigorous hop, she managed to tip the bag into the overhead, and did a fist pump of victory. “Ha! Suck it, overhead compartment!”
“Well done, Woerner.” Adam shook his head in amusement as he moved down the aisle toward his seat, which was closer to the back of the plane.
“This is me,” Olivia said apologetically to the two people already sitting in her row, and they stood up to let her slide into her window seat. She had no idea how Lamar had managed to get her a window seat at the last minute, but he was a goddamn hero for doing it.
The woman sitting next to her was an older lady who smelled pleasantly of lavender. She smiled at Olivia, but made no move to strike up a conversation, which was perfect. Peace and quiet.
Olivia took out her knitting and crammed her purse under the seat in front of her before settling in to relax and enjoy the flight. It would be nice to have a few hours of solitude. Just her and her knitting and the relaxing white noise of the engines.
No one aggravating her or arguing with her or filling her with all these confusing, conflicting feelings.
Sometimes it was hard to remember she disliked Adam. He’d say all these annoying things that pushed her buttons, then turn around and do something considerate or say something that sounded like a compliment. She needed a break from him just to get her head on straight.
“Excuse me,” she heard Adam say, and snapped her head around.
He’d tapped the woman next to Olivia on the shoulder. “I don’t suppose you’d mind trading with me so I could sit next to my girlfriend? I’m only four rows back.” He gifted the woman with a smile that could have melted the Snow Miser’s heart. There was more warmth in that smile than Olivia had known Adam was capable of, and it struck something deep in her chest, like a gong that reverberated through her whole body and left her fingertips tingling.
The woman next to her was ensorcelled by it. “Oh! Of course,” she tittered. And was she actually blushing? Good Christ.
When the man sitting on the aisle unfastened his seat belt to get up and allow them to trade, Olivia started to panic.
“It’s okay,” she told the woman next to her. “You don’t have to move. Really.”
“It’s no trouble,” the woman said as she gathered up her bag. “I wouldn’t want to come between young lovers.” She gave Olivia a wink as she slid out of her seat.
Ew.
“Thank you,” Adam said, giving the woman’s arm a squeeze as she moved past him, and her blush turned a shade deeper.
Double ew.
“Why did you do that?” Olivia hissed as he dropped into the seat beside her.
His face was guileless when he looked at her. “Because I wanted to sit by you.”
She didn’t know how to take that, so she picked up her knitting and looked at it instead of at him. Except her hands didn’t seem to work right. An odd sort of ache had formed in her chest and traveled all the way down to the tips of her fingers, which were tingling with pins and needles and refusing to obey her command to start knitting. It was like she suddenly couldn’t remember how. She’d lost the muscle memory and her fingers were stiff and ungainly, like they’d never held needles before. She was forced to settle for counting the stiches in her current row in order to look busy.