Forever Could Be Ours

Chapter 17. | Salt-Kissed Breeze

ALEXANDER

Trying to find Hayleigh in a crowd of desperate airport travelers ready to leave for Autumn break is like searching for a needle in a haystack. For the first time since growing past 6 feet, my height has no advantage of finding her in the crowd.

Whenever I think I've spotted her, I'm pushed by a middle-aged woman with a tape-wrapped suitcase and aviator sunglasses in her hair.

"Wauw, you must suck at Where's Wally."

Turning around on my heels at the familiar voice, I'm faced with her wavy hair and amused breathtaking smile. She has a straw between her teeth, the ice cubes in her iced latte wiggling in the Starbucks cup as she waves at me. She's completely unbothered by the massive crowd, it only seems to excite her more when someone pushes her shoulder and she pushes back.

"I was a third-time Where's Wally champion at the dentist's reception." I lean down to engulf her in a hug and breathe in the scent of her perfume. I don't think I'll ever get tired of the smell of praline and jasmine on her. It's addicting.

"I bet you were," She throws her empty cup in a nearby trashcan and wraps her hand around mine. At first, I believe it's an action of affection but I quickly realize it's so I don't get lost in the crowd when she picks up her pace towards security.

Nevertheless, her soft hand in mine makes my heart somersault.

I haven't been to the airport since I was seven and it must have changed since then because I have no idea of directions. Not to mention, trying to catch up with Hayleigh is like trying to catch up with a hungry puna. She finds her way through the crowd like a paper pushed below a door crack.

I think she's forgotten I'm over a foot taller than her. She might be able to slice through people because she's short and cute, but I can't go unnoticed when my shoulder collides with someone, nearly knocking them to the ground.

"I'm airdropping your ticket," She fishes out her phone, her trolley trying to keep up with the pace and not breaking a wheel in the process.

When the ticket lands in my app wallet, I gaze down at her confused. "I'm sitting on Standby?"

"Yes. Standby means we're called in when everyone else has boarded the plane. They give us whatever seat is available, possibly a jump seat. We might sit together, or we might sit separated. Don't get me started if it's overbooked."

"Jump seat?" I scan my ticket on the machine and suck in a breath. "Isn't that reserved for flight attendants?"

"Yes, and you can imagine how uncomfortable it is sitting on a jump seat for ten hours straight."

I can't even imagine sitting cramped for an hour.

But it must be my lucky day because, to my surprise, Hayleigh and I are seated next to each other in the Economy Premium section. It has more leg space than in coach and she gives me the window seat which only spikes the pit in my stomach.

I doubt it's apparent, but my heart is ready to pop out of my throat as the plane taxis onto the runway, engines humming to life behind us.

"Nervous?" She doesn't take her eyes off the book she's reading, the tips of her fingers caressing the back of my hand which is grasping onto the armrest like a grip trainer.

"Just a tad." I lie, trying to ignore the ringing in my ears as the plane takes off.

"Planes are safer than driving your car." She shrugs, eyes still focused on the tousled paper of French glossary. "Chances of dying in a car collision are about 1 in 100."