Page 11 of Fly with Me

“Talking too much.”

“I don’t think you talk too much. I like—I like listening to you talk.” As long as she wasn’t making mildly patronizing assumptions about her nursing career or her experience, Olive enjoyed listening to her voice. It was energetic and enthusiastic, nothing at all like her own, which occasionally came too close to an Eeyore imitation. It also helped that when Stella spoke about her career, her eyes brightened and her perfect face seemed to glow.

No crushes, Olive. You’ll probably never see her again after this.

“I was just thinking back to what I had said earlier on the plane about being surprised about it being just a nurse, and it occurs to me now in light of this conversation that I could have given off the wrong impression. I just meant that what you did was super impressive especially because nonmedical people like me tend to know more about what doctors do…” Stella’s teeth worried over her bottom lip.

“It’s really okay.”

“I’m just… I’m used to people underestimating me because I’m a woman or assuming I’m a flight attendant rather than a pilot when they see my uniform because…” Her eyes went wide. “I’m not… shoot, I shouldn’t have said it that way. I wasn’t belittling what flight attendants do because did you know that they are actually really important for aviation safety, and they get treated like they are just customer service when in reality—”

“Stella, it’s okay.” Olive smiled, but Stella kept her attention on the road, so she didn’t see it. If there was one thing Olive understood, it was that familiar anxious impulse to postmortem after a conversation and then correct any potential misunderstandings. Olive put her foot in her mouth so often, Derek had once implied she must enjoy the taste of shoe rubber. “I appreciate you saying that, though.”

Stella released a short exhale and swallowed once. When she spoke again, her voice was slower, less pressured. “What kind of nurse are you?”

“Emergency room.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“It can be.” Olive tried to stifle a yawn.

“Why don’t you go to sleep for a bit?” Stella patted her leg and a shock of electricity went through Olive. So much so that Olive may have actually jolted—god, she did jolt. It had been a long fucking time since she’d gotten laid. A slight wrinkling in Stella’s forehead was the only sign she noticed. For the second time today, Olive wanted to dissolve into the floor of a transportation vehicle.

“Yeah. I think I’ll try to sleep.” She checked her phone, but it was still too dead to turn on.

Stella rifled with one hand in the bag behind her seat and pulled out a small beautifully colorful travel blanket. “Here, I get cold when I deadhead, so I always keep one with me.”

Maybe Stella interpreted the jolt as a shiver.

“Thank you.” Olive leaned her seat back, so unbelievably thankful to be in a car, not a plane. The blanket smelled like lilacs and vanilla. Basically, it smelled incredible. Which probably meant Stella smelled incredible. Which probably meant Stella would make a bed smell incredible too.

Calm your lady boner down, Murphy.

Stella had tied her hair up in a bun again, but a few strands fell loose, curling beautifully at the base of her neck. Heat pulsed in Olive’s core. In the ever-present lady-loving battle of “do I want to be her or fuck her,” Olive was pretty sure she knew where she stood regarding the woman in the driver’s seat.

Who was probably straight.

And even if she wasn’t, she was an extroverted, ray of sunshine, type-A pilot.

Who probably wouldn’t look twice at you.

Yet she did seem to be looking over every few minutes to check on Olive, as if she were worried Olive would disappear. Maybe she was worried Olive would start crying again. Olive’s last thought as she drifted off to sleep was a prayer to the gods that she wouldn’t snore or drool.

Chapter 6

A gentle jostling woke Olive. Bright streetlights burned her eyes. She turned over, forgetting where she was until the seat belt shoulder strap slashed her neck. Stella had taken off her sweater and was now wearing only a thin V-neck T-shirt.

The corners of Stella’s mouth flicked upward. “You were really tired.”

“Did I—”

“Snore? Only a little. The car isn’t the most ideal place to sleep before a race. You didn’t even stir when I stopped. You sleep like the dead.”

“You stopped?”

“There was a grocery store near the gas station. I googled the best foods to eat before a race, and the running website said peanut butter and a banana, so I got that. And a few water bottles since prehydration is important. It’s been a long time since I’ve run a long race like this. We made good time. No traffic. The banana and peanut butter sandwich stuff are in the back seat because I didn’t know if you had food allergies, and honestly, the last thing I wanted to do was to watch another allergic reaction. I can pull over in a parking lot for you to eat a snack outside the rental.” She pointed to the window.

“Wait, wait. You watched what happened? How?” Olive ran her hand through her hair. Her teeth and mouth felt and tasted gross after sleeping so long. “There are cameras in the back of the plane?”