Redeem (Whiskey Run Heroes 2)

“Are you okay?”

I don’t even try to open my eyes. I just shake my head.

“Are you afraid to fly?” John asks.

I want to say something smart. That’s how I usually deal with my attraction to him, but right now, I don’t have it in me. “I’m fine,” I tell him through gritted teeth.

He reaches for my hand, peeling it off the hand rest and pulling it over into his lap. He threads his fingers through mine, and with his other hand, he trails his fingers back and forth across my wrist. Now instead of the loudness of the tires on the pavement and the rattle of the compartments inside the plane, I’m concentrating on John’s touch. I don’t even notice that we’ve taken off until I feel a small dip in my belly and know we’re in the air. But even when I start to relax, he doesn’t stop. He keeps holding on to me. I take small breaths and try not to make any sudden movements. I’ve imagined holding hands with John at least a million times, but the fantasy doesn’t even compare to real life. I feel protected, and it’s a foreign feeling for me.

I open my eyes and look at him, wanting to just look at him. I’m surprised to see him watching me.

“Better?” he asks.

I want to say no because I don’t want him to let go, but I just nod my head. “Yeah, I’m good.” I try to pull my hand away, but he holds it tighter. I look at him questioningly, but he doesn’t answer me. He just shrugs his shoulders.

His other hand continues tracing the tattoo on my wrist. “I like your tattoo,” he says.

I smile. I’d never tell him, but when I got the tattoo, I was thinking of him. Of course, I’m always thinking of him. Too bad he’s always just looked at me as if I’m his sister’s pesky little friend. “Thanks.”

He continues talking as he stares at the black ink on my skin. “I remember when you got this. You had been dating that punk, and you were so upset when you found out he was going out with someone else at the same time.”

“Ugh, do we have to talk about it?”

He smirks. “Remember the next day he was sporting that black eye.”

I start to nod and then gasp. “John, was that you?”

He shrugs. “He hurt you. He deserved it.”

I’m speechless as I think about that day way back when. I remember going over to Jenna’s house, crying my eyes out. Her mom made us hot fudge sundaes, and we stayed up all night talking. John was only there for a little while, and he didn’t say much to me and left shortly after I got there. “You did that... for me?”

His eyes go back to my wrist. “I care about you. I hated to see you so upset like that.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, after you got the tattoo, I liked it so much, I went and got one too.”

My heart is hammering in my chest. Maybe it’s being this close to him, maybe it’s finally feeling his hands on me, I don’t know, but I like it. And then it clicks. “Wait, you got a tattoo like mine? Where? I want to see it.”

I’m already searching his arms and neck. He has so many tattoos, I could just look at them all day. He lifts the sleeve of his T-shirt and shows me his bicep. Right there is an exact replica of my tattoo. I don’t even try to stop myself. I reach out with my left hand and trace the words, You are enough.

“John, I don’t—" I stutter, trying to figure it out. He’s always been full of confidence. It doesn’t make sense. “I don’t understand. Why?”

He pulls his sleeve down, and his face scrunches up. I begin to wonder if he’s going to answer me when he shrugs his shoulders.

I lean back in my chair, and this time, I do pull my hand away from his. “It’s just, I got that because he made me feel like I wasn’t enough... I needed that reminder.”

He clears his throat and is looking straight ahead at the back of the seat in front of us. “There’s times I don’t feel that I’m enough, Madison. Maybe I needed the reminder too.”

His words hit me right in the chest, and I don’t even know what to do with that. I can’t imagine John ever feeling that way. I slide my hand up and down my thigh before resting it on my knee. “I don’t know... I guess I’m surprised is all. I can’t imagine anyone ever thinking you’re not enough. You’re smart, a good brother, a good friend, you work, you’re handsome—"

He cuts me off, and his head whips around to me. “You think I’m handsome?”