Remember Me? (Book 1) COMPLETED

Fight or Flight

KATHERINE

"Hey, Kat."

His amber eyes regarded me coolly, and I could imagine my glare looked petty and childish underneath his unresponsive gaze. Anger sparked in my chest, but I swallowed the lump away, squeezing my eyes shut before I managed to find the words to reply.

The air escaped me. Through the darkness of my eyelids I saw the back of the door after I had slammed it in his face, so close it must've missed his nose by a hair.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

He waved his ticket. "Flying. You?"

"I'm going to work." I managed to get out, though not as rudely as I would've liked. "Seriously, what are you doing here?" It took all my strength to swallow the bile surging up in my throat.

A fleeting moment of triumph drummed through me as his eyes darted elsewhere. For the moment, he couldn't look at me, nor examine the blush that was creeping up my cheeks like sunlight on a frosty morning. My fingers gripped the handle of the suitcase tighter when Nicolas lifted his arm, but he didn't move to touch me.

"Can I help you put your suitcase up?" he asked, then glanced at the growing line of passengers waiting to reach their seats once we sat down.

If I put my suitcase up myself, it would put me closer to him. He might even try to take advantage of the moment with a snide remark... but if I gave it to him, I would be giving up ground. Losing the battlefront to the enemy crossing the border.

Before I could decide between two great evils, Nick scooped up my suitcase. He neatly placed his beside it, then gestured to the row. "Let's sit."

I glanced at my ticket—hoping against all hope, that we would be seated separately—and slid into the window seat, cradling my purse in my lap as I side-eyed him.

Nick glanced at his own boarding pass and let out a wry laugh before sliding into the seat beside me. To my dismay, my silence didn't seem to deter him.

"Are you still writing?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair. My eyes were reluctantly drawn to this slow, casual movement.

He was nervous.

I wonder why.

It hit me, and for a moment, I almost felt bad. But then it seemed to hit him, too, and his gaze was drawn to the glint of gold on his finger.

My throat went dry. Too bad security had forced me to throw my water out. "No, Nicolas." I sighed, trying to feign exasperation. My fingers twitched in time with my heart. "I stopped writing a long time ago." I gritted my teeth. "And frankly, I don't want to talk about it."

"You stopped?"

All I could do was nod.

"Why?" he asked.

I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing when he said that. My face flushed red as spite and memory fled to my extremities.

"Ask Victoria," I said, glaring at him while pretending to dig through my purse for headphones.

His voice betrayed his surprise. "What did Tori say to you?"

By the grace of God, my response was interrupted when a middle-aged woman sank into the aisle seat and shot us a polite smile. Her three teenaged kids settled in front of us. One of them, the only girl, sat in front of me, her spiky pink hair protruding above the headrest.

I pulled my phone from my purse and pretended to scroll through Facebook while the flight attendants completed the rest of the boarding process. All too soon, I had to shut my phone off for takeoff.