“She flew out last night, something about a wedding emergency, do you ever check your phone or do you just stare at it and ask Siri to tell you your messages?”
Jake looked guiltily at the floor again, choosing not to answer.
“So.” Char kept talking. Seriously, why was she still talking? Couldn’t she tell he was about three minutes away from puking his guts out? Rolling her eyes she reached across his lap and buckled his seat belt. Great, now he was a two–year-old.
Fantastic that at that precise moment his manhood decided to sweep back in and make an appearance. He was too miserable to care.
“How was your night?” She was pissed. Yup, definitely pissed.
“Horrible.” He answered truthfully. “I drank way too much and finally realized something I should have a long time ago.”
“Oh yeah?” Char’s voice was deadpan. “What’s that?”
With a shrug Jake answered. “I hate blondes.”
The first smile he’d seen all morning briefly appeared across Char’s face before she turned away to look out the window.
“Doesn’t change anything.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” She turned back toward him. “You still smell like ass.”
* * *
He felt every bump. Every movement. A tiny drum-playing monkey had taken up permanent residence in his head along with a demon-possessed elephant in his stomach. He almost puked five times before the flight was over with.
Char was no help at all.
She refused to talk to him, look at him, touch him.
Clearly he’d been on the news; it was the only explanation. He’d briefly remembered some cameras flashing.
How could he be so insensitive? He knew what he was doing, but he did it anyway. To prove a point. To prove it to himself.
And now he just felt like someone ran him over with a truck then backed up just to make sure he was dead.
Once the plane landed, he shuffled out of the aisle and walked out toward baggage claim, hoping that for once in his life Grandma would take some sort of pity on him and have something waiting, like a car, or a gun, or maybe even just aspirin, yeah he’d take an aspirin.
No such luck.
“Where is everyone?” He dropped his carry-on, and was hit with another wave of nausea. Jack Daniels was com
ing back to haunt him. His stomach roiled as he closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing in and out.
“Char?” A deep male voice said.
Jake’s eyes snapped open.
A large Thor impersonator started walking toward them.
“Who the hell are you?” Jake asked, a definite edge in his voice. Gathering up all the strength he had, he stood taller and glared at the guy in the eyes.
“Oh.” The man smiled, revealing white straight teeth that glowed against his tan face, damn him.”I’m helping out the family with wedding stuff. Travis and I are really good friends and—”
“Jace?” Char’s voice sounded too hopeful and too damn excited for Jake’s taste.
“You remember me?” He grinned, moving closer to her.