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Layer by Layer (Riggings Brothers 1)

Page 2

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“S-Something like that.” She leans back against her seat and turns her body toward me. “I hate this,” she says quietly.

“What’s your name?” I ask to keep her talking—anything to keep her mind off what’s about to happen.

“Sa—” She doesn’t get to finish before the flight attendant comes over the speaker, telling us to fasten our seat belts. “Oh, God,” the blonde beauty whimpers. Her leg begins to bounce up and down as she fumbles with her seat belt.

This is hard to watch. She’s terrified. Reaching over, I grab her belt and make sure she’s buckled in. “Just breathe,” I whisper.

“Sir, you need to fasten your seat belt,” the flight attendant scolds me.

Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I quickly strap in. “Hey.” My neighbor turns to look at me, her green eyes misty from tears, from fear. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to calm her down. She bites down on her bottom lip, her teeth sinking in deep.

“I really hate this.”

“Why didn’t you drive?”

“I start a new job next week and needed the extra time to get settled in my new apartment.”

The plane begins to taxi down the runway, and if I thought her breathing was accelerated before, I was wrong. Her chest is rapidly rising and falling with each strangled breath. At a loss about what to do, I reach out and cradle her cheek in the palm of my hand. Her skin is warm and clammy from fear. “Look at me.” My voice is soft as I try to comfort her. “Just watch me,” I tell her again as she rests her head against the seat. I go to move my hand, but she places hers on top of mine. Maybe she needs the connection. It’s a small price to pay to help her stay calm. I’ve never seen someone with this kind of fear. I just need to get her through the takeoff, and once we level out, she’ll be fine.

“Talk to me,” she whispers. “Please.”

Fuck. I don’t make small talk. That’s not who I am. Think, Riggins, think. “Is this your first time going to Nashville?” I ask her.

“Yes. I’ve heard it’s a fun city to live in.”

“A new job, huh?”

“Yes. I hate starting over, but this job was the best option,” she says, and her breathing is starting to slow. “To be honest, I wanted to be as far away from Seattle as I could get.”

“Sounds like a story.”

“One I won’t bore you with.”

“So, new job, new city. Do you have any friends or relatives in Nashville?” I ask, wanting to keep her talking. She’s starting to calm.

“My best friend, Hadley, and her fiancé moved there about a year ago.”

The plane begins to take off, and she sucks in a breath. I can see her panic coming back in spades. “Hey, hey, look at me.” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Keep your eyes on me. That’s it,” I praise her. “What’s your name?”

“S-Sawyer.”

“Nice to meet you, Sawyer. I’m Royce.”

“Sexy name for a sexy guy,” she says. Her eyes widen like she can’t believe those words left her mouth.

I give her what I’m told is my panty-melting grin. “You think I’m sexy?”

Those bright green eyes roll back in her head, but there is a small tilt to her lips, and she’s not freaking out. The plane levels out, and I find that I don’t want to pull away from her. That’s not me. That’s not the guy I am—not anymore—so I force myself to drop my hand to my lap. I keep my head turned and my eyes on her.

“Hey.” She smiles. “Thank you for that.”

“You all right?”

“Yeah. I’m just… really afraid of heights. Planes specifically.”

“Is there a reason?” I ask, and realize that I’m interested in her reply. I want to know the root of the fear I just witnessed.

“You mean other than flying through the air at Mach speed in a tin can?”

A chuckle escapes me before I can stop it. “Come on now, it’s safer than driving. Look at all the car accidents each year versus the number of plane crashes.”

“Can we not?” she whispers.

“Why are you whispering?”

“You’re not supposed to talk like that.” She gives me a disapproving look.

“Like what?”

“You know what you just said.”

“That there are more car accidents than plane accidents.”

“That!” She reaches out and places her hand over my mouth. Her scent wraps around me, and her skin is the softest I’ve ever felt. “The plane gods might hear you and think it’s a good idea.”

Carefully, I wrap my hand around her small wrist. The contrast to her smooth, delicate skin against mine covered in ink is apparent. “There are no plane gods, and this plane isn’t going down. I fly all the time. You have nothing to worry about.”



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