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Personally, Nick could listen to Matt ramble on, spewing knowledge and facts dotted with his opinions all day and night. And from the looks of it, Matt was just getting started, so Nick bet his friend would fill the time right up to their flight.

Nick smirked softly, thinking it might even fill up the plane ride as well.

MATT

In the list of things Matt most appreciated, the eight-hour flight was enough to cement Nick’s place at the top. He’d forgotten about his airsickness. In the field, it hadn’t been much of a problem despite helicopters being the worst. But in the field, he at least had something else to focus on besides the swaying of the helicopter and the churning of his guts.

On a civilian plane as it pushed through a westward-moving storm? Not so much.

Yet an hour into the flight, Nick had taken one look at him, smirked, and reached for his carry-on bag. A moment later, a pill materialized, handed to Matt without a word. Matt had no idea how Nick had smuggled the thing through security, guessing there were probably more hidden away. But that was part of Nick’s charm; the man could get things done when others ran into a roadblock.

After half an hour, his stomach finally settled, and it stopped feeling like he was tilting. The medicine staved off the sickness, but it sure as hell didn’t do anything for the buzzing in his head. He’d trained himself to lower the volume of that chatter, the whispers of worry and worst-case scenarios, but sometimesit got a little loud. While several thousand feet in the air, for instance.

He did his best not to give the swarming buzz of his thoughts too much attention. He did his best to ignore the plane’s sway and wonder what would happen if a wing should inexplicably snap off. He told himself the faint groan hesworehe heard was just the normal sound of a plane and not the fuselage getting ready to crack. Matt repeatedly assured himself the flight would make it to its destination, and he was more likely to die driving to the airport than he was in the plane itself.

A warm hand closed over his wrist, instantly pulling him out of his thoughts. Matt glanced down at Nick’s hand as his friend squeezed. Nick was leaning back, eyes closed, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he felt Matt look at him.

It was such a little thing, that touch, but it spoke volumes. That point of contact with Nick helped ease the tension trying to take over Matt’s mind, dimming the bright white of panic at the edge of his thoughts and dulling the sharp edge of anxiety. But it also showed just how attuned to Matt, his friend was.

“Do you remember when Aidan and Sean got stuck in that goat pen?” Nick asked.

Matt snorted, trying to smother his laughter at the memory. “Of course I do. I was on the ridge, watching the whole thing as a lookout.”

“I’m still sad I missed the whole thing,” Nick sighed. “Too busy trying to keep the perimeter.”

Matt chuckled. “You really missed out. It was the first time I’d ever seen Aidan lose his mind. But then again, the goats seemed to hate him...or like him, we never did figure out which.”

Matt wasn’t exactly well-versed in goat behavior; apparently, neither was anyone else. The closest they had to an expert was Nick because, apparently, they didn’t have goats in Kansas, and Sean had been just as confused. Aidan had sworn up and downthat the ram was trying to fight him, and it had looked like that to Matt. Upon hearing about it later, Nick had sworn the ram had, in fact, been trying to mate with Aidan.

“I still remember that, that…” Matt gasped, trying to hold back his laughter. “That fuckingsquawkhe made when it pinned him.”

“Sean’s cursing almost alerted the farmer we were there,” Nick pointed out.

It had been a good night, even if Aidan hadn’t agreed with their assessment. Matt couldn’t help but rehash every detail. Nick had already heard the story, and he’d been able to listen to the comms just fine. But Matt had been the one to witness the entire thing through high-powered, night vision lenses from his perch.

It wasn’t until he found himself launching into another story, which Nick would know all too well, that he realized what had happened. Without tipping his hand, Nick managed to trick Matt into rambling rather than focusing on being stuck in a plane.

Nick raised a brow. “Is this the story of when we had to steal some kid’s wagon to cart Sean back to the pick-up spot?”

Matt blinked, giving his friend a wry look. For his part, Nick waited patiently, knowing damn well Matt wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to launch into the story with all the details lovingly rendered.

“And he kept bitching about the squeaking wheel for three hours, never realizing the noise was coming from him,” Matt continued.

Nick smiled, squeezing Matt’s wrist as they sat, ignoring the looks of other people around them. Whether it was because Matt might have been a little too loud and enthusiastic in his retelling or because they were practically holding hands, he didn’t know. Quite frankly, he didn’t care either. There were a multitude ofstories he could regale Nick with for the next several hours if need be.

And best of all, he knew Nick would not only listen but egg him on, eager to hear more.

Thankfully,the rest of the trip didn’t throw any further difficulty at Matt. Nick had kept him talking and, more importantly, laughing. They disembarked, still chuckling as they entered the terminal.

Matt pointed down a hallway. “We can get our luggage down there. And your mom said she and a couple of people will be picking us up.”

“Uh,” Nick said, raising a brow. “How many?”

Matt checked the phone, shrugging. “A couple.”

“Ah, shit.”

Matt shot him a confused look. “What?”