Walking The Line | ✓

Chapter Nineteen

I shifted my gaze from the death grip the German had on the armrest only to note his face had blanched considerably since the flight attendant told us to fasten our seat belts. The muscles on his cheeks and jaw were ticking with strain as he watched the safety demonstration video, his gaze never straying from the screen. 

"Are you afraid of flying?" My voice jerked him out of his self induced panic and I watched incredulously how his big hands spasmed slightly.

It couldn't be.

My gaze went from his face to his hands and back again.

I couldn't believe my eyes.

This proud strong man looked like Daniel going into the lion's den. I was pretty sure if you looked 'flying phobia' in the dictionary there would be a picture of Kühl before take off attached.

"I'm not afraid of anything." He managed to get out. And I might have believed him if not for the tightness in his voice.

"Of course not." I shook my head, internally laughing at his obstinate nature. Then he said I was stubborn.

He casted me a suspicious glance from the corner of his eye, not fully turning to face my direction. "Are you laughing at me?"

The smile that had been playing at my lips disappeared instantly. "Of course not!"

"You are laughing at me." He stated.

"I'm not!" I defended.

His body finally turned towards me, his gaze narrowing. "I'm not afraid."

I tried to keep a straight face. "Okay."

"I've been on a plane hundreds of times."

"Right." Of course he had, I wasn't a fool, he had to travel to games when he was still playing.

His eyes studied my face before he added, "I know how this things go."

I was loosing the fight on my composure with each word that left his mouth. "Never said you didn't Shooter."

He studied my face some more before nodding, satisfied. "Good." Rearranging his position on the seat he resumed watching the video.

I, instead, watched his profile as the woman on the video went on about emergency exits, oxygen masks and life vests. The German absorbed everything as if it was the first time he stepped on a plane. I wouldn't call him out on the lie. I couldn't. He knew I knew, but was too proud to admit it.

We were turning off our phones following the instructions when the German spoke.

"When I was a kid I wanted to be a pilot."

It took a second before the words fully registered in my mind, then I burst into laugher. I caught a few curious glances from the other passengers on the plane as wave after wave came over me.

My head fell back on the seat, shaking to the sides, overwhelmed with glee. After a while I had calmed myself down enough to wheeze, "Wha--are you joking?"

"I wish I was." Was his reply.

My sparkling eyes met his and I caught a tight smile pulling at his lips. "When did you change your mind?"

"I was eight when I got on my first plane and as soon as it touched the ground and got out I told everyone who would hear that I was going to be a basketball player instead."

I bit my lip to hold back a laugh. "That easy huh?"

"I wasn't as strong willed back then."

"I see."