Page 21 of Pretty Little Island

The heat in my face sears as I walk through the aisle and pass where Maison is sitting in the second row with his arm around Serena. Naomi is in the row behind them, and her smirk tells me she saw and heard the whole thing. I refuse to look at him, or her, or number two and four as they heckle me. Nigel and Jade are waiting for me at the back of the plane, and Jade’s eyes are like saucers while Nigel merely shakes his head.

I grab my headphones and a few other items and tuck them under my seat in the aisle across from where Jade and Nigel are sitting, then toss the blanket on myself that’s neatly folded on an empty seat next to mine and lean my head against the window.

My gaze shifts to Nigel and Jade, who opens her mouth to say something.

“Just don’t,” I snap at her, popping in my headphones. Music comes blaring into my ears and I close my eyes, blocking out every single one of them.

My eyes shoot open to the soft hum of the airplane and muffled voices and whispers from the front of the plane. The cabin is dark, save for a few overhead lights illuminating the aisle. I don’t know how long I was asleep for, but I passed out and I’m nearing the end of the playlist I put on.

A flash streaks through a line of wispy pink clouds on the horizon.

Lightning. That’s what must have woken me; heat lightning from the looks of it, as the sky is otherwise clear. The last trickles of evening light flows over a series of islands that hover in the distance. Massive mountains loom upon them, so we must be getting close to Alaska.

I shift the blanket around my legs and peek over the seat to check out the rest of the plane. Most people are settled and quiet now, either sleeping or mindlessly watching their devices. Naomi is leaning over the aisle, talking to who I think is Ezra, twirling her hair in a soft, flirty gesture. Micah is beside her, although his head is rested and he looks still. Her time is spent equally between the two of them, it seems. An interesting dynamic that, from what Nigel tells me, stems from the Olivia days. I’m not sure how she fits into everything, but I plan to explore it further if the opportunity arises. Especially with the new information Nigel uncovered about Ezra and his family’s deep and twisted connection to the Matei family.

Naomi is a constant through all of it. What involvement did you have in Olivia’s death, Naomi Wilson? She seems all too comfortable throwing herself at a guy who was once accused of murder.

Jade and Nigel seem cozy in the aisle beside me, and I’m grateful to have my row to myself. A sense of warmth flows through me as Jade rests her head on Nigel’s shoulder while he is head down on his computer. A softness I’ve not seen in Nigel and confirms my suspicions of the closeness between the two of them. Although, I’m still not one hundred percent certain it’s reciprocated on his side. I hope he pulls it together and sees the brunette beauty beside him for what she is.

I rest my head back on the window and peer outside to the increasing lightning streaks blasting across the sky and the cloud cover now below us. The plane shifts suddenly and the seatbelt sign lights up. I swallow a lump in my throat, dragging my seatbelt across my lap and clipping it in, thinking back to my first interaction with Micah, and how he could shift so easily from giving me side glances and smiles in the classroom to the angry person he portrayed this evening.

Diabolical, as Nigel had said.

The same way Chris was with me, sliding his hand up my shirt after my rehearsals, telling me how pretty and talented I was while his wife was at home, making his dinner. I knew he was married; I just didn’t care. But I was a fucking child, and he took advantage of me, taking away any ability for me to fully trust anyone again.

I lean forward and grab a copy of The Great Gatsby, popping my overhead light on. I will not sleep anymore, so I might as well get a good start on my homework. As soon as I land, I plan to lock myself in my hotel room and dig into writing it.

After a few minutes, someone slides in beside me. Maison is sitting on the far seat. At least I think it’s Maison. My judgment is clouded, and I’ve witnessed the games they play firsthand. It’s also dark in the cabin, so the shadows dance off his face. And he looks ridiculously hot in his navy suit, that seems to cut around every muscle in his body. His brown hair is perfectly swept to the side and just a hint of facial hair teases his face.

I lower my book and arch my brows at the sight of his playful grin as he slides over one more seat. I guess Maison got bored with Serena.

He’s grinning and checking out my cleavage in this tight tank top, while trying to not be obvious about it. The wisps of his hair lie just above his eyes, the same as Micah. But unlike Micah, his eyes are kind, expressive, like they actually have life in them. He shifts his gaze to my mouth, then eventually meets my thick stare.

How many girls have fallen madly in love with the look he just gave me?

I can’t fall for it.

“Are you okay?” he asks me, and I suppress the twinge in my stomach.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I respond curtly, keeping my body angled away from him, returning to the book on the open tray in front of me.

A pause, then he says. “Micah can be a dick sometimes. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

I shoot my head toward him and purse my lips. “I hadn’t noticed.”

He shifts beside me, only a hint of hesitation from his normal confident demeanor. “We’re having a party in our room when we land.”

“That’s nice,” I say dryly, keeping my voice sounding bored. Somehow, in the last thirty seconds, he’s inched even closer to me and my heart spikes a tiny beat.

He rests his head on the seat, angled entirely in my direction, and ignores my brief responses as if he’s unbothered by them. “You should come.”

A scoff escapes me. “I don’t think your brother wants me anywhere near his rooms.”

Nigel is now side-eying us, giving me a look, telling me I’d be stupid to say no to this offer. Nigel will have to let me do this my way and stay out of it. I can’t seem too eager.

The plane jolts from a hint of turbulence, enough where my body presses into Maison from the force.

“What if I want you there?” he responds, and I shiver from the small graze of his fingers as they rest mere inches from my leg. The hint of spice wafting off him makes my mouth water.