The Fighter (Book 1)

Chapter 3

Taylor flicked the end of my nose, “Stop looking at your boyfriend and pay attention to me!” he whined. I rolled my eyes. “Okay, what if a troll steps on you? Could you live with that death?”

“No,” I laughed loudly. “No, I couldn’t die being stepped on by a troll. That’s not noble enough. I have to die fabulously. Like, saving someone.”

“So you’re a martyr?” Zack asked. I nodded, settling farther into the seat of the plane. The plane to Rome had just departed, and we had nearly fifteen hours ahead of us that I guessed would be spent mostly sleeping for Taylor and mostly talking between Zack and me.

Since the day I first spoke to Zack, he’d bought me about twenty new outfits and taken me out to dinner all three nights at the most expensive restaurants in California. I begged him not to, trying to make a new excuse each night, but in all honesty, I’d just never been to a nice restaurant before, and I was beyond nervous. The fanciest thing I’d ever eaten was microwavable chicken strips.

Getting my plane ticket was an adventure, skirting around lies and truths about why I couldn’t purchase one. Eventually Zack just influenced the people at the gates to let us on without passports for all three of us and without a ticket for me.

I learned in those three days that Zack was an extremely honest person, and he hated lying. Luckily for him, he had the money to do everything he could possibly dream of when it came to spoiling me. He told me to stop thanking him so much at one point in the three days, claiming he was just being himself. And maybe he was, but he was without a doubt spoiling me.

Zack picked my hand up off the armrest, his thumb running over my fingers, and he looked at me with a certain amusement. “Have you never been on a plane?”

“No,” my cheeks grew warm. “Is it obvious?”

“Only to me,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I can tell when you’re doing something new. You act sort of timid.”

“How do you differentiate that between that and my everyday life? I’m always timid,” I laced my fingers through his. I noticed he was situating his wings for the third time since we’d been in the air. “You’re going to need a massage, aren’t you,” I muttered, smiling. He nodded, plastering on a fake pout.

“Wings and lips, please,” he said, trying to influence me with his demon-perk. I could always tell when he was trying to use it on me since my body felt like it had pins and needles, like everything had fallen asleep. “Unless you’re using your lips. Then I’ll need a massage on the entirety of my skin.”

“I could have lived without hearing that,” Taylor groaned. My cheeks got even warmer, and Zack laughed.

“I think the funniest part about that is that we haven’t ever kissed,” Zack’s laughing quieted.  “And when I say funniest, I mean saddest.”

“You think you’re funny shit,” I shook my head at him. “You are the one making sure we don’t kiss because you’re scared I’m going to smash your heart right after.”

“I am, actually,” he smiled, “very funny shit. Thank you for noticing.”

“Wait,” Taylor butted in, “That’s why you two haven’t kissed?! Zack, you’re a demon for crying out loud!”

“Demon with feelings, Jesus,” Zack grinned evilly. “I mean, dammit. You’d think you of all people would relate to that, God!” Taylor had covered his ears, and slowly pried his hands away when Zack stopped talking. “Hell.”

Taylor flinched, sending me a glare, “Control your pet.”

“I’m one hell of a pet,” Zack wiggled an eyebrow at me.