More Life: Chapter Fifty-Nine

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    Dennis spoke for most of the duration of the flight, and his voice carried. It boomed throughout the cabin of the airplane, louder than the pilot when he spoke on the P.A. system. He was a bit of a storyteller, never one to shy away from attention. Rather, he preferred to be at the center of it. It was his mission to make everyone laugh and usually, he was successful.

    Aubrey distracted himself by lovingly tugging on Destiny's hair, making note that her dark hair was growing back in. "I miss your curls."

    "So do I."

    "Do blondes have more fun?" he asked, and the curiosity in his voice was surprisingly genuine.

    She gave him a weird look. "When would I have had a chance for that?"

    "You've got to admit, before Rory tried to kill us, we were actually having fun."

    "Our lives are so fucking weird," she muttered.

    He laughed and had to agree. "That sounded better in my head."

    "This haircut is so ugly and there isn't a minute of the day that I'm not aware of that fact."

    His eyebrows shot up. "You hate it that much?"

    "Don't you?" she asked him.

    "You'd look good bald to me," he said with a shrug. "Your face card is permanently approved."

    She beamed at him. "Aren't you good with words?" she teased, using his earlier words against him.

    "I get it from my baby," he murmured, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

    "Do you have any new songs written for me?"

    He cracked an eye open at her. 

    The smile was still on her face.

    "You remember what happened the first time you pushed the music topic?"

    "I seem to remember that you took my advice, to the point of creating new music, filming a music video, and touring, Sir."

    "Hmmm." Something about that Sir tempted him to pull her into the cramped airplane bathroom, even though his parents were on the flight with them. 

    She lowered her eyes demurely, as if she knew where his mind had gone. A minute later, a hint of pink touched her cheeks. 

    A mile high club fantasy was teasing the very corners of his mind, and he fought to hold it at bay. Instead, he half-listened to his parents, who were bickering as if they were still married. His dad was whining about some shit he'd forgotten at Sandi's.

    "Well, didn't I tell you not to forget that?" she tossed at him.

    "You should have told me right before we left," Dennis grumbled. "You reminded me when I was in the middle of a bit."

    "Instead of joking around trying to host Funny Hour with the FBI, you should've been packing your things," Sandi admonished, shaking an index finger at him. 

    He caught her index finger and held it. They exchanged a look that prompted Aubrey to redirect his attention elsewhere. It had been difficult, leaving Oliver in Toronto.

    Oliver was adamant that he had to stick around, because he had business dealings that he couldn't leave unattended. He'd waved off Aubrey's offer of an FBI detail. "Unnecessary."

    Aubrey regretted not pushing the matter further. If his friends refused to join him in Los Angeles, he'd prefer for them to have FBI agents assigned to them. But there wasn't really any arguing with Oli. He was stubborn and thought through every move he made. If his mind was set, there was no convincing him otherwise. So, he'd hugged his brother from another mother goodbye and wished him well. "I expect you to at least shoot me a text every day."

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