Behind Closed Doors (Behind Closed Doors #1)(29)

“How long’s the flight?”

“An hour and a half. We should land by three, and by the time we get to the hotel it’ll be going on four.”

“And you have to be at the table at five. That’s pushing it. You should sleep on the flight.”

“Food and sleep are exactly what I need,” he says, sipping his coffee.

“And you drink coffee before you sleep?”

“I drink coffee around the clock, which is why it takes the jolt of Red Bull to give me a buzz. Maybe you shouldn’t drink your coffee, though, if it keeps you awake. If you sleep too, the flight will be over before you know it.”

“Sleep would be good, considering I didn’t sleep last night. I’d hate to doze off during your game and embarrass myself.”

He gives me a curious look. “Why didn’t you sleep well?”

“I spent hours digging around the storage unit before you showed up. And there’s nothing worth the money I invested.”

“You carried a box out.”

“Paperwork that I’m legally obliged to hand over to the office.”

“Did you?”

I sip my coffee, the sweetness doing nothing to steal the bitterness of a moment that could too easily become one of the lies I despise. “They were closed.”

“I need to see what’s in that box. Maybe I can figure out where Stephanie would hide the chips if she took them.”

It hits me then that Stephanie not only let her personal items be auctioned off, she let most of her blackmail material be as well. Unless she just planned to get another key at the bus station. Shit. Maybe I don’t have the right to that bus station locker, and I stole the contents.

“Skye,” Jason presses.

I shake off my worries, reminding myself that I found proof of a crime; I didn’t knowingly commit one. “I understand,” I say, refocusing on Jason. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to help.”

“The pizza has arrived,” JJ announces, pausing by the table to open an overhead bin and stuff an insulated bag inside.

“Thanks as always,” Jason says, his voice steady, but I can almost feel the tension crackling off him. “We’ll see you tomorrow when we return.”

JJ offers Jason a mock salute. “Good luck tonight,” he says. “And try to enjoy the flight, Skye.”

“Thanks for making it sound like a coffin,” I say, depositing my coffee in the far left drink holder.

He chuckles and shakes his head, disappearing around the corner, and I stare after him, waiting for the slam of the doors shutting and the engines roaring to life.

“Skye,” Jason says again, his hand finding mine where it’s now gripping the armrest. “We really will be okay.”

“I hate this,” I whisper, looking at him, and he is close, both our heads resting on the seats, a small space between us. The jet starts to move. “I don’t suppose I can ask to get off?”

“Too late, and I don’t want you to get off. I’m glad you’re here—and not because of that storage unit.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” I try to laugh, but it sounds like I’m choking.

“I don’t.”

“I bet you say that, too.”

“I’m not going to win this battle of words, so I’ll divert your attention. There are more accidents on the highway—”

“Don’t give me logic and facts. There’s always the one percent, and that’s all my mind can think about right now.”

“Okay, then,” he says, lacing his fingers with mine. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Like what? And don’t say the storage unit. Not now.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“You’re serious? My favorite food?”

“Yes. Your favorite food. We’re distracting you and getting to know each other. So—”

“Macaroni and cheese.”

“Hmm. Good choice. What about dessert? Do you like dessert?”

“Too much,” I confess, squeezing his hand as we start to speed up.

“Chocolate?”

“What else is there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Good point. I like that, too, which is why I run five days a week.”

“Do you run the hills?”

“Yes. They’re killer.” We speed up and metal seems to quake all around us. “Why are we shaking?”

“It’s normal to shake as we speed up for takeoff.”

The engines roar, cold air pouring from the vents. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Baby, at this point you have to do this.”

I yelp as the wheels churn and I can feel the liftoff, jerking my hand from his to kick off my shoes, pull my legs to my chest, and hug my knees. Jason lifts the armrest between us and shifts my legs in his direction, his arm sliding around my calves. “I’ve got you, baby. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

Right here, right now, he does have me. And therein lies the problem. I should have thought of me traveling with him linking me to trouble, the real kind, but the truth is his green eyes and hot kisses were the bait, and I was hooked before I ever dared to get on this plane.