Page 103 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Skylar

I pressed my face against the jet window, watching the clouds part beneath us like curtains opening on a theater stage.

Three weeks.

Twenty-one days.

Five hundred and four hours until Ryker would be permanently back in my arms.

Not that I was counting—except I absolutely was, the numbers circling in my head like vultures, picking at the raw edges of my longing.

Kiaan’s hand found mine across the gleaming mahogany table between our leather seats, his fingers warm and solid, a welcome anchor to reality.

“You’re thinking about him again,”

he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

“Your forehead gets this little crease right here when you miss him.”

His thumb brushed the spot between my eyebrows.

“Is it that obvious?”

I pulled back from the window, embarrassed at how transparent my emotions had become since our triad formed. Before Ryker and Kiaan, I’d prided myself on being unreadable, my anxiety safely hidden behind walls of sarcasm and technical jargon.

“Only to me.”

Kiaan’s smile was soft, intimate.

“And probably to him when we land.”

The thought of seeing Ryker in less than an hour sent a flutter through my stomach—excitement and nervousness tangled together in a knot I couldn’t unravel. Three days apart felt like an eternity after two weeks of constant contact, the three of us learning how our bodies fit together, how our hearts aligned.

“This jet is absurd,”

I said, changing the subject as I glanced around the cabin. The thing was basically a flying penthouse—all cream leather and polished wood, with a bedroom in the back that Kiaan had already hinted we might put to good use on the return flight.

“You love it,”

he teased, squeezing my hand.

“I tolerate it,”

I corrected, though the corners of my mouth twitched upward.

“There’s a difference.”

“This champagne is divine!”

My grandmother’s voice cut through our moment, loud and delighted from her seat across the aisle. Hui sat with her legs crossed at the ankle, one hand raised imperiously as the flight attendant topped off her flute.

“You must try some, Skylar. It will settle your nerves.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I’m fine, Nainai.”

“You are not fine. You have been fidgeting since takeoff.”

She took another sip, then nodded approvingly at the attendant.

“The 2008 was an excellent choice. Mr. Malhotra has impeccable taste.”

“Why did we invite my grandmother?” I hissed.

“We didn’t, she invited herself.”

Kiaan beamed at the compliment, the shameless praise-whore.

“Thank you, Mrs. Shen. The Dom Pérignon rosé is one of my favorites.”

“Call me Hui, please. We are practically family now.”

She waved her hand dismissively, the gesture somehow both graceful and commanding.

“And bring some of those little canapés for my granddaughter. She needs to eat something before she sees her firefighter boyfriend. Can’t have her fainting from low blood sugar in front of such a handsome man.”

“Nainai!”

I hissed, mortification heating my cheeks.

“I am not going to faint.”

She ignored me, turning back to the attendant.

“The ones with the smoked salmon, please. And perhaps a few of those little pastries.”

The attendant—whose name tag read Justine—nodded with the practiced smile of someone used to handling demanding passengers.

“Right away, ma’am.”

I sank lower in my seat, caught between embarrassment and amusement.

“I can’t believe you invited yourself on this trip,”

I muttered to my grandmother once Justine was out of earshot.

“Someone needs to make sure you three don’t make any rash decisions,”

she replied primly, adjusting the red frames of her glasses.

“We’ll fly out to see him every week until he moves,”

Kiaan said, wisely changing the subject as he traced patterns on the back of my hand.

“I’ve already arranged it with the pilot. It’s only a three-hour flight.”

I shook my head, still not entirely comfortable with how casually he threw money around.

“That’s ridiculous, Kiaan. The carbon footprint alone—”

“Is offset by my investments in renewable energy,”

he finished smoothly.

“And the alternative is you being miserable for three weeks, which is unacceptable. Besides, Ryker misses us too. You saw his face on FaceTime last night.”

I had. The longing in Ryker’s eyes had been unmistakable, even through the pixelated connection. He’d looked exhausted after his shift, but he’d stayed up late just to see our faces, to hear our voices. The memory made my chest ache.

“It’s still excessive,”

I argued, though with less conviction.

“Normal people would just, I don’t know, pine dramatically and send care packages.”

“We’re not normal people,”

Kiaan said, leaning closer, his lips brushing my ear.

“We’re three people stupidly in love with each other, figuring out how to make this work. And if my ridiculous wealth can make that easier, why not use it?”

When he put it that way, it was hard to argue.

“Here we are!”

Hui announced as Justine returned with a silver tray of elaborate finger foods.

“Perfect timing. We begin our descent soon, yes?”

“That’s right, ma’am,”

Justine confirmed.

“We’ll be landing in Denver in approximately twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes. My heart stuttered. Twenty minutes until I’d see Ryker again, feel his arms around me, breathe in the scent of his skin. I picked up a canapé to please my grandmother, but my appetite had vanished, replaced by butterflies that seemed determined to escape through my ribcage.

“Your hands are sweating,”

Kiaan observed, his voice warm with affection.

“Shut up,”

I muttered, though there was no heat behind it.

“I’m not used to this... missing someone so much it physically hurts. It’s inconvenient and distracting and I hate it.”

“No, you don’t.”

His knowing smile made me want to kiss him and smack him in equal measure.

“No, I don’t,”

I admitted.

“But it’s still inconvenient.”

The plane began its descent, the gentle shift in pressure making my ears pop. I stared out the window again, watching as the sprawling city of Denver came into view. Somewhere down there, Ryker was waiting. The thought made my heart race.

“He’s waiting for us,”

Kiaan said, echoing my thoughts with uncanny precision.

“Probably pacing nervously, checking his watch every thirty seconds.”

I smiled despite myself.

“Definitely making Aimee crazy with his fidgeting.”

“Absolutely.”

When the wheels touched down on the private airstrip, I gripped Kiaan’s hand so tightly my knuckles turned white. He didn’t complain, just stroked his thumb over my skin in soothing circles.

“Breathe, Skylar,”

my grandmother instructed from across the aisle, her voice gentler than before.

“Your anxiety is radiating off you like heat from a furnace.”

I took a deep breath, then another, forcing air into lungs that seemed determined to malfunction.

The plane taxied to a stop, and through the window, I spotted them immediately—Ryker’s tall figure unmistakable even at a distance, Aimee beside him, bouncing on her toes with excited energy.

My heart lurched in my chest, a physical reaction to his presence that no amount of coding or climbing or sailing had prepared me for.

“There they are,”

I whispered, unnecessary but unable to help myself.

Kiaan pressed a kiss to my temple.

“Let’s not keep our boy waiting.”

We deplaned with Hui leading the way, her small figure somehow commanding despite her stature.

I followed, Kiaan’s hand at the small of my back, steadying me as my legs threatened to give out.

The moment my feet hit the tarmac, Ryker’s eyes found mine, and everything else faded to background noise.

He moved toward us with long strides, crossing the distance in seconds.

I broke away from Kiaan, running the last few steps into Ryker’s open arms.

He caught me, lifting me off my feet as his mouth found mine in a kiss that contained every ounce of longing we’d accumulated in our days apart.

“Fuck, I missed you,”

he murmured against my lips, his arms tightening around me as if he could somehow pull me inside his skin.

“Language, please,”

Hui called from behind us.

“We are in public.”

Ryker’s laugh vibrated through me as he set me back on my feet, though he kept one arm wrapped firmly around my waist.

“Sorry, Mrs. Shen.”

“Hui,”

she corrected, approaching with regal bearing.

“You must call me Hui. And you must be Aimee.”

She extended a hand to Ryker’s sister, who looked delighted by the whole scene.

“I’ve only just found your podcast, and it is fascinating. I have many questions about your episode on power dynamics in the bedroom.”

Aimee’s eyes widened before a grin split her face.

“Oh my god, you listen to my show? That’s amazing! I have so many questions for you too. Would you consider being a guest? The perspective of an older woman on modern relationships would be incredible content.”

“Older woman,”

Hui sniffed, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.

“I prefer ‘wise elder.’ And yes, I would be delighted to share my insights.”

While my grandmother and Aimee fell into rapid conversation, Kiaan approached Ryker, their eyes meeting over my head.

The moment crackled with tension before Ryker reached out his free arm, pulling Kiaan into our embrace.

The three of us stood there, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other’s air, reconnecting.

“I can’t believe you guys flew out here on a private jet,”

Ryker said, his voice rough with emotion.

“It’s way too much.”

“Blame Kiaan,”

I said, even as I burrowed deeper into their shared warmth.

“He’s the one with more money than sense.”

Kiaan beamed.

“Just trying to be a good boy for you! We missed you.”

“I missed you guys too. And I’m so fucking glad I’m moving,”

Ryker said.