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Chapter Fourteen

Isaiah

“ T his is a bad idea.” Travis gripped his armrests. “A really bad idea.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the window seat?” I sipped my water as if this was an everyday occurrence. Because, for me, it was.

“No, I don’t want the window seat. First, you’ll be uncomfortable and worried about cramming the poor lady on the aisle.”

The lady who had put in her earbuds and was clearly ignoring both of us.

“Secondly, when we crash, I don’t want a front-row seat.”

“We’re not in the front row.” I took another sip. “I care for you deeply, but even I couldn’t spring for two business-class tickets.”

“You shouldn’t have sprung for these.” He glanced around.

Somehow, the moment he agreed to my harebrained scheme, the tickets had magically appeared. Like they’d been sitting in the cart for the airline, waiting for me to hit buy . He’d had to get an expedited passport and voilà. Here we were.

“I wasn’t going to let you back out. The tickets are nonrefundable.” I sniffed. “You wouldn’t want to waste the money.”

“I still think Mama could’ve asked for the time off work. Doesn’t she have seniority or something?”

“Her friend Myles is a new father. She wanted him to have time with the baby and his wife. You can’t fault Mama for having a soft spot for babies.

And she’s also taking care of Mamba.” I’d repeated these points several times, but Travis never quite looked convinced.

And somehow I’d talked him into requesting two weeks off work.

Apparently, his supervisor had been so surprised, she’d just stamped the request and shooed him out of her office. In twenty years, he’d always taken a payout in lieu of vacation.

Once I’d seen the amount he’d given me for the down-payment, I could see how missing all those vacations had paid off. He was just a spendthrift and hadn’t wanted me to know about his nest egg when we’d first started dating. I respected that.

“We’re going to crash.”

“We are not going to crash. Thousands of planes take off and land safely without crashing.”

“But planes do crash.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Construction workers get injured more often. You don’t see me asking you to quit your job.” I wanted to. But I never would. He lived his life. I lived mine.

Just like when he’d watched me have my face slammed into the ground during the last game. He’d wanted to beg me to find something…less physically violent.

He hadn’t, though. At least he hadn’t come right out and done it.

So I’d held my tongue about the skyscraper.

The flight attendant began his explanation of the rules.

Badarse gripped the pamphlet and followed along carefully.

He’d reluctantly admitted having taken some extra English classes after finishing his high school equivalency because he hadn’t wanted to appear illiterate.

Those classes had helped when he’d taken the construction-management courses at the British Columbia Institute of Technology.

All of which he’d said with trepidation. As if I’d judge him. Either as being too smart for his job or stupid—his word—for needing the extra schooling.

Right, like I, of all people, would judge someone strong enough to ask for help when they needed it.

I was so fucking proud of him.

And had heard the airline attendant’s spiel at least once a month for years now. Dutifully, though, I paid attention.

In case Travis had any questions.

He said he preferred Badarse most of the time.

A way to keep that barrier between the two of us. And between him and the rest of the world.

When we were with Mama or his friend Dodge, though, he was just Travis. When we were alone, he was my Travis .

Hence coaxing him into taking a fourteen-hour flight from Vancouver to Auckland, and another quick hop to Christchurch. A trip I did at least twice a year.

He let out a long breath. “You’re sure this is safe?”

“Cross my heart.”

He arched an eyebrow. “The rest of that saying is hope to die .”

“Uh…huh.”

“Yeah. Nothing to say about that, eh?”

“Nope. Silence is the better part of virtue. Or some shit like that.”

We finished taxiing, and the engines roared.

Travis gripped my hand.

Next thing I knew, we were hurtling down the runway.

I loved this. The aerodynamics involved in flight. The complexity of the machine we were in. That we were essentially a tin can flying through the air at incomprehensible speeds.

Being in the air was my happy place.

Fourteen hours later, I could admit it hadn’t been poor Travis’s.

We’d encountered a lot of turbulence.

He’d been violently ill. To the point the nice lady on the aisle traded her seat for mine, I took the middle seat, and Travis sat on the end. Fortunately we were close to the bathroom. A couple of times, he needed the airsickness bags.

I’d felt incredibly guilty and, as we waited for our flight to Christchurch, I seriously contemplated renting a car and driving us the sixteen hours. But that wouldn’t be any better, and I wanted Nana’s whitebait so badly, my saliva glands were working overtime.

We’d won our last three games. Although my shoulder was sore from a knee to it—hello, ouch—I was doing okay. Even survived the cramped quarters of the flight.

Which gave me an idea.

I headed over to the gate agent and gave her my most winsome smile. “Uh, I don’t suppose you have room in first class, do you?”

She checked her screen. “Two. Last-minute cancellation. We’re about to see if someone wants to pay to upgrade.”

I pulled out my credit card. “My boyfriend was sick all the way from Canada. His first flight. He doesn’t even want to get on the plane.”

She gently pushed the credit card back. “Well, for the good of the other passengers, he should be seated as close to the washroom as I can get him.” She snagged my boarding pass. “I hope someday someone does this for my brother and his boyfriend.”

“How old?”

“Seventeen and completely smitten. They play rugby together.”

“Oh, I play.”

She eyed me. “Professionally?”

“Yes. In Vancouver.”

“The Orcas?”

I blinked.

She grinned. “Grew up in a rugby household. If there’s a team whose name I don’t know, it’s because I’ve forgotten.”

“Would you…” I gestured to her Sharpie.

She grinned.

I opened my bag and brought out one of my photos. I loathed the things, but Nana insisted I bring one home for each of her grandchildren. I kept a couple in my bag and the rest were crammed into my suitcase.

The gate agent handed me the marker, and I signed her photo with a flourish.

She handed me the new boarding passes.

I made my way back over to Travis. “I have a treat for you.”

“Ginger candy?”

“And some anti-nausea meds. Which you should take now. No, a special treat.”

“You charmed someone.” He eyed me, with one bloodshot dull-blue eye. “You’re up to something. I saw you.”

“Just act casual when we get the best seats on the plane.”

“Sure, I can do that.” He pressed a hand to his forehead.

“You going to be okay?”

“Just make certain we’ve got every airsick bag on the flight. And maybe extras.”

I did ensure we had a few extras but, in the end, we didn’t need them. The flight was brilliantly perfect, and we landed without so much as a belly clench from my boyfriend.

Fortunately, my uncle Peter picked us up and spirited us away to his spare bedroom.

He kept the family at bay while Travis and I slept for about twenty hours.

Finally, we awoke feeling almost normal.

A simple breakfast of eggs and fruit settled our stomachs, and we were soon ready to greet the family.

Well, I was.

Travis was fucking terrified.

“If you can survive your first flight, you can take on my family.”

“I’m taking a cruise ship back to Canada.”

“You’ll get seasick.”

He pressed a hand to his belly. “I’ll swim. I’m never doing this shit again. Ever.”

“Uncle Izzy! Uncle Izzy!”

Six of the younger nieces and nephews barreled into the room.

I offered Travis a sheepish shrug.

He sat up straighter.

And we were off.