Page 1 of The Risks of Reuniting (Love Connections #1)

Chloe

My name is Chloe Moore, and this is a story about consequences.

See, I let a breakup turn my life upside down.

I went from a woman with a phobia of planes, to someone who randomly booked a humanitarian trip to Peru.

Spoiler alert: I wasn't getting there by boat or car.

Booking a flight was a rash decision that felt like the only way to get my life back.

I'd been listening to too many self-help audiobooks, and deeply internalized the message that in order to get my life back I'd need to do something big.

I should have just eaten more ice cream.

Incidentally, turning your credit card and WiFi password over to a trusted adult immediately after a heartbreak should be mandatory procedure.

When I was ten years old my parents went on a date and my older brother Gavin was left in charge.

He was really into documentaries on history's biggest disasters, so that night over a bowl of over-cooked macaroni and cheese I was treated to ninety minutes of 'America's Worst Mid-Air Plane Crashes'.

Gavin was grounded for his choice to show it to me, but I was the one who lost the most that night.

I swore I'd never fly, and I never have.

Scenes from the documentary flash behind my eyes, and my limbs go numb as I make my way to the security screening checkpoint at the Salt Lake City International Airport.

I keep expecting an overhead announcement telling everyone to evacuate the building because a plane is about to crash into it.

But everyone is plodding along like this is just another day, and they couldn't be more bored.

I hand the security agent my passport with shaking hands and a wobbly smile, and then move to the scanning area on feet that want to run away.

I step up to the TSA body scanner and stand with my legs apart and my arms in the air.

As a whirring sound surrounds me, a beep jolts me alert, and I'm momentarily confused as the agent waves at me to step out and to the side.

I do so, and they wave that wand thing over my body.

It beeps at my chest and a female agent joins our little duo.

If the internet is to be believed, I'm about to be patted down, Cops-style. (Yes, I had to read internet articles on how airports work because I was too embarrassed to tell anyone that at age twenty-three I had no flying experience.)

"Ma'am," the security agent says in a bored tone, "I'm going to need to do a full pat-down. Would you prefer that we move to a private area?"

"What would require privacy?" I ask. "Is this an under-the-clothes thing?"

She smirks. "No."

I shake my head, my dark hair flopping with the movement. "Oh, okay, it's fine. Do what you have to do."

Mistake. I should have taken the private room offer, I realize, as she puts her hands together, fingers up straight, making shark fins out of her hands, and presses them between my breasts so that her fingers press my sternum.

Then she's pushing and lifting, which tugs up my shirt, flashing my stomach at anyone who'd like to look.

I stand there with my arms to the side as she basically gives me a free mammogram.

I'm tempted to ask her if she noticed any lumps, but I keep the thought to myself as she moves down my sides and legs, patting and parting as needed.

"It's her sports bra," the lady agent says over her shoulder to the guy who'd scanned me with the wand. "Those front clasps."

I'd feel like it was an overshare if the entire line hadn't watched me get examined.

Privacy flew out five minutes ago. Confused about why my bra would set off a scanner when no one else had the same issue, I offer them a smile and tug down my shirt as the lady steps back and motions for me to move on through.

By this point my luggage is waiting for me at the end of the track and I hustle to gather my things.

I snag my phone and shoot off a text to the cousin chat as soon as my shoes are back on and my backpack is bumping against me once more.

Good news, just got a free mammogram from airport security. I'm lump free.

Poppy

Did they at least buy you dinner beforehand?

Avery

Uh, what?

Sadie

I say take the wins where you can!

Lucy

I read a book about a TSA agent once. He was dreamy. Was yours cute?

It was a woman

Lucy

So this isn't the meet-cute of a love story?

Definitely not

I laugh to myself as their responses come in.

The Hayes cousins never fail to crack me up.

I'm distracted by the conversation as I make my way to where one of those cousins runs an airport shop.

You can't get into or out of Salt Lake without visiting Poppy.

It almost feels like a mafia thing – pay your respects or else – except that Poppy is sunshine and completely committed to helping and healing people.

Ten minutes later I'm wondering what's actually worse right now – being at the airport about to fly off to a place where I don't speak the language and may die in a watery plane wreck over the ocean, or having my cousin Poppy dangling a bright purple crystal necklace under my nose while she chats rapidly about its ability to calm my anxiety.

I love Poppy, truly, but I'm sort of out on the whole crystal thing. Her passion for it makes my lips quirk up in a half-smile, which makes her mouth split into a huge grin because she thinks she's captured my attention.

She hasn't.

My attention is firmly attached to my stomach where three pieces of day-old, cold pizza are floating around feeling like regret.

Earlier today they felt like the fuel I needed to get through this day, but now they're a bubbling mass of undigested cheese and I need a crystal that promotes passing cold pepperoni through your digestive tract before boarding a plane.

"I don't need help with anxiety, Poppy. I need digestion. Is that a blue crystal? Orange?" I ask, rubbing my stomach over my V-neck top.

Poppy's light-brown hair tickles at my forearm as she leans close to whisper in my ear. "Are you doing that thing where you pretend to be tough by cracking terrible jokes?"

I blink and frown. "I am tough. "

She rolls her lips into her mouth and nods, backing away slightly, her skirt swaying with her. "Mm-hmm. Tough, tough, tough." She repeats the words in a fake British accent, which is her version of sarcasm. "We all know about the documentary ." She uses her fingers to make air quotes.

I look away, noting the dozens of people hustling past, and the noise of constant conversation, as I tug at the straps of my backpack and roll my shoulders slightly to ease the tension.

My sneakers feel too tight, and I hate that I wore cotton sweatpants, because they feel too heavy for the May temperatures, and I wonder if all the travel tips I read were wrong.

"I hate planes, and yet I'm standing here," I mumble, looking back at Poppy. "Which does not make me weak. In fact, I think it shows strength."

Poppy nods, her lips smoothing back out, her floral head-band dipping toward her eyes. "I agree."

Poppy never lets up this easily, so I shift my hips and put my hands on them. "And?"

She bops her head back and forth, stroking the amethyst lightly. "I read your horoscope this morning."

I sigh. "Of course you did."

Now it's her turn to frown at me. "I know you think I'm a little woo-woo, Chloe, but I love you enough to risk your eye rolls."

And I love her enough to listen. I relax my stance and nod, which is all the encouragement she's going to get.

Poppy and I might be polar opposites as far as personality goes, but we're part of a cousin group that's as thick as thieves, which means I know she is completely motivated by love for me.

In fact, it's my love for her that has me standing in the doorway to her airport shop practically choking on the diffused oils she has floating around the place .

Poppy's grin is back, and she recites my horoscope from memory. "The moon enters Aries, your solar house of personal identity, opening the door to change. This can be a wonderful time to grow. You will enjoy the self-discovery."

"Hmm," I reply. "My self-discovery phase is over. I accept who I am."

"Chlo – seriously. Change is coming. Self-discovery is your jam."

"Honestly, I am about to get on a plane and go to Lima, Peru. That's a bigger change than the universe expected from me," I dead-pan. "The universe is shook right now."

Poppy gives me her you're adorable, but I see right through you look.

"All I'm saying is that the vibes are good.

If you can set aside your can't-touch-this attitude, I think something wonderful awaits you in Peru.

Use this flight time to make a list of things you'd like to improve about yourself, and you'll find success.

" She grabs my forearm and pulls me in close.

"Listen, the Aries Moon can best be described as agitated, determined, and sometimes aggressive, but that's starter fuel. Use it."

I only understood like fifty percent of those words, but the pleading, hopeful look in my younger cousin's eyes softens me enough that I reach out to squeeze the hand still resting on my forearm.

"Thanks Pops. I'll remember that."

Agitated, determined, and aggressive equal starter fuel. Doesn't feel like the type of pep talk I'm used to getting, but who am I to pretend to comprehend the woo-woo ways of the horoscope?

She straightens and pushes the amethyst crystal necklace back at me.

"Please take this. You don't have to wear it because you believe in it, you can just wear it because it's pretty.

You can rub your fingers over it whenever you feel overwhelmed.

Flying isn't for everyone, and your Spanish skills aren't going to win any awards.

Plus, purple goes beautifully with your brown hair and eyes, and brings a little color to your pale skin. "