Sick Like Me (Sick Like #1)

Chapter 36

THIRTY-SIX

I waved at Mrs Moore, who stood in the open front door of the Moore house to see us off, then I shot a look at my car with mild sorrow bubbling in my chest. I pouted as I turned to Stefan. “I hate leaving my baby here.”

“It’s safer here than on your driveway where no one will be home to keep an eye on it,” Stefan replied as he grabbed the side handle of my suitcase. Without much show of effort, he raised the bag and flung it into the boot of his car. “Plus, my mam will for sure drive it around to keep the battery life healthy on it.”

“No one ever drives down my road unless they have a reason to come to my house, or next doors,” I stated in defence. But he was right, at least my car would be well looked after in the care of his family.

If I left it on my drive for a week without any use, I had no doubt I would come back and need to jump start my car. I had been meaning to replace the battery as the health was getting low, but it was something I would just have to deal with when we came back, I made a mental note.

I gave my car a final goodbye glance as Stefan slammed the boot of the car shut, then I let out a sigh as I followed after him .

Stefan got in the driver’s seat, the music from our joint playlist already playing through the speakers. I got in the passenger seat, holding my travel bag on my lap tight after I pulled the seat belt over my body securely.

I leant back into the seat, watching as Stefan placed the car into drive mode before he pressed the accelerator. “In this beast,” Stefan began, running his hands over his steering wheel delicately. “We’ll get there in no time.”

Stefan’s new-ish car was an automatic, something he loved to rub into my face every damn chance he got. I wasn’t jealous of his car, though. I loved my Mini, despite how old and abused it was.

I guess it was like me in that way.

Stefan drove as if the road speed limits were just an advisory and not a legal requirement, going against every warning his mother had given him when she held him tight in her arms and wished him fun and safe travels.

When I warned him he may have a few fines in the post upon our return home, he just cocked one shoulder and smirked as he pulled his sunglasses on to shade his eyes from the beaming sun.

The sky was bright blue, not a single cloud in sigh and no gusts of winds. It was perfect weather, and I just hoped that Nice weather would give us the same treatment.

We kept the windows down during the drive, even the back ones. Did we need all windows down? No. But the wind whipping our hair and the sun shining through every crack made us feel alive and carefree.

Plus, we were about to be stuck in the air in a metal flying can for just over two hours. I wanted to get as much free air as possible before that.

The drive to the airport once we got onto one of the major roadways was straight forward, and long. So around the halfway mark, which was around 2 hours into the drive, Stefan pulled over at the service station for us to stretch our legs and grab some snacks.

I was thankful the drive was longer than the plane ride. I had never brought it up to the Kings or Stefan, but I had a mild fear of planes—specifically about if they crashed. It was unlikely to happen, I knew that. But the fear remained in the back of my mind.

We were making good on time, and so we decided to take our time to consider what drinks we wanted to buy from the café. I bought two for each of us, and one toasted and one cold sandwich each.

Once we had all the items we wanted, we climbed back into his car and continued the journey onwards, the music from the joint playlist Stefan had made for us blasting through the speakers as we sang along embarrassingly loud.

A further two and a half hours, and we had finally arrived at the air port car park. Stefan drove around and found the space I had paid for, and within no time we found ourselves climb off the shuttle bus which took us from the car park around to the other side of the plot of land, where the front doors to the airport welcomed us inside.

We climbed off the shuttle, and Stefan had decided to be a gentleman as he pulled not just his suitcase, but mine too. I dug through my bag for our passports as we joined on to the end of the queue for the check in section.

Mrs Moore had handed me Stefan’s passport and made me swear to keep not just it, but him safe too. She had made me interlock our pinky fingers and shake on it. The woman was a sweetheart, and while her son was sometimes the most annoying human alive, I swore I would protect him with my life for the week away.

The queue to the check in desks was long, even though we were beyond early. It seemed as if everyone was excited to be going to Nice and had the same idea to turn up early. And I couldn’t help but notice some people wore merch that looked to be Formula One related.

“Shit, that’s right,” I stated as we stepped in line with the other queue goers before us. We were nearing the belts, and I couldn’t wait to be through all the checking in and security so I could take a toilet break. The two iced coffees I had drank on the drive proved to not be a good idea.

“What’s wrong?” Stefan asked as he stared at my hands with concern.

“The fucking races are on while we’re there. It’s going to be so busy, Jesus,” I grumbled as I waved my hand in the general direction of people checking their bags in at one of the belts, all wearing matching hats with the F1 logo on it.

“Maybe we can sneak a watch of the races,” Stefan began, but then a thought flashed through his eyes and he wagged his eyebrows at me with a cocky smirk on his lips. “You know what that means, though, right? A huge pool of potential sexual partners for us to have a fun night with.”

I cringed at his choice of words and placed a hand on his chest to push him away from me. “Never, and I mean never , refer to one night stands as ‘sexual partners for the night’. You sound like a middle aged virgin.”

Stefan let out a laugh at my words, then pulled the suitcases along once we were called to one of the free belts to check our suitcases in.

Security was slow and gruelling. I almost thought I was going to have my laptop taken off of me as I had forgotten to take it out of my bag. But they waved it off and allowed me to keep my lifeline.

Lucky they did, as Stefan had failed to bring his own.

“You’re ‘The Boss Woman’, you have everything we need,” He excused when I asked where his own was. I would have lied if I said I should have known better. That was just like Stefan. If he thought someone else had their bases covered, he would leave it up to chance with the hopes his suspicions were right.

We walked through duty free side by side. Stefan refused to walk through it alone, but he was focused on stopping and sniffing every cologne he could. He shoved some into my nose, and as harsh as it seemed, they all smelt the fucking same. They all just smelt like what I would call the scent of a hot man.

Stefan had picked up not one, but two perfumes for himself. I had no clue what they were, but he called them his ‘new babe magnet’. He was overly keen on finding some new women to fool around with on the trip.

A part of me felt like it was my fault. As if I was to blame he and Peyton met, fucked, and then broke up. He seemed to unaffected by the loss of romantic connection with Peyton, but the way he was being reckless with one night stands almost felt like the opposite to his reassuring words.

I sipped my third iced coffee of the day through the straw, shooting a look over my sunglasses. We sat by the wall of windows, watching the planes on the runway land and take off. We had at least two hours until our flight, so we had nothing better than to people and plane watch.

“You know, we’re going on a work trip,” I emphasised, then used my free hand to push my sunglasses up my nose. “We’re not going to find our future fuck bunnies.”

“Fuck bunny,” Stefan muttered the words back at me, sipping from the straw in his own drink. He then shot me a lazy sideways smirk and nodded his head. “I like that term, I’m keeping it.”

Two hours passed like a blink of an eye with Stefan. He always knew how to keep me happy and occupied in the most boring of situations.

The call came over the tannoy that our flight had begun boarding, and Stefan had the sudden urge to get us gum to ensure our ears didn’t hurt from the change of air pressure in the plane cabin.

“You go grab us a space in line,” He began as he threw his backpack over his shoulder. “And I’ll be back shortly.”

Stefan grabbed my shoulder and pulled me close, pressing a sibling-like kiss to the top of my head before he pushed me towards the growing line of people behind me.

I felt self conscious joining the queue on my own, but I did as Stefan urged. I moved my feet and joined the end of the queue. The line looked huge already, so I suspected I was one of the last stragglers to join.

However I was sorely mistake. The queue kept growing and growing, and the poor airline staff were finding it hard to make the line move swiftly with how they had to check our tickets and passports one final time.

I stepped forward each time a person from the queue in front of me moved, disappearing down the tunnel to the doors of the plane to board. I tapped my foot as I looked around, wondering where the fuck Stefan had disappeared to since it had to have been around ten minutes at least.

Then my body froze as my eyes watched a small group of people who joined onto the end of the queue.

My blood turned cold, my hands shivering. I shoved them into my pocket, not caring as I felt the strap of my back pack begin to slide down my shoulder.

What the fuck was Dakota Vernon doing at the airport?

Panic hit me full force, like a lorry carrying a massive load of the heaviest bricks known to man in its trailer. I looked around, trying to find someone, anyone , I knew to distract myself.

He paid me no attention, it seemed as if I had little effect on him when in the same space. But it was like he was a magnet to me every time, my eyes finding him in the most crowded of space .

Stefan had fucking perfect timing, I noted as he walked past the end of the queue and waved his arm dramatically before calling out my name. “Yo, Ashton, I got us some water too!”

As if Kota was addicted to my name, the second it slipped from Stefan’s lips, he looked around as if in desperate search for the owner of the name. He found the bleached buzzcut of Stefan and watched as he came to stand before me, holding out a pack of strawberry gum and strawberry flavoured water.

But I failed to grab the items from him, my eyes locked in on the man at the end of the line.

Stefan’s eyes followed my own, and then I saw his body straighten as he grew taller—if that was even possible. He rushed to turn back to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders before he forced me forward, moving us in line with the queue.

“What the fuck is her doing here?” Stefan asked, bowing his head to whisper to me as if the older male contained super hearing powers.

I shrugged, and resisted the urge to shoot him a look over our shoulders. “I don’t know, I’m not his fucking handler.”

“What are the chances,” Stefan mumbled before we finally reached the freedom of the front of the queue.

The airline staff checked out passports and tickets quickly, then they smiled as they wished us a good flight. We walked off down the tunnel, and I was silently proud of myself for not shooting him a glance.

We walked down briskly, silently wishing I didn’t have to see the man once again. Maybe it was a man who looked just like him, a mere coincidence, I tried to kid myself to calm my erratic heart beat.

We reached the end of the tunnel, which felt like it was getting smaller and smaller with each step I took down it. Being stuck on a metal can flying through the sky with the man of my dreams… No, nightmares , was going to be the fucking end of me, I swore .

I forced a smile at the flight attendants at the door of the plane, flashing my ticket briefly. They went to show me the direction to my seat, but I didn’t care to wait as I rushed into the plane.

My eyes scanned the letters and numbers on the tops of seats.

A3. B3, C3, D3, E3, F3.

I found my seat and rushed into the empty row. I thew myself into seat F1, then looked expectantly at Stefan who chose to take his time to walk through the plane instead of rushing through it like Hurricane Ashton.

I smiled at my best friend as I pushed my sunglasses up my head to rest atop it. But Stefan shot me a look of confusion as he looked at the ticket in his hand, then back up at me. Other people were beginning to pile on behind him, and he turned his ticket to me.

My lips parted in surprise when his seat number read as I6. I went to reach across the seats and grab for his hand, beg him to sit by me and ask whoever the owner of the seat was to have his own. But he stumbled as people behind him pushed him to move along, or sit down.

So Stefan shoot me a pitiful look and made his way to his seat. I swallowed, but my mouth felt dry. I reached into my bag and grabbed my phone, hurriedly typing a text message to Stefan.

He read it instantly.

Stefan: I had no clue we were in different seats. I’m so sorry. I should have checked with Carol. I joked that I wanted to sit far away from you, but I didn’t think she would actually do it…

I closed my eyes and threw my head against the back of the seat dramatically. I knew it was all too good to be true. I fucking hated taking off and landing on planes, and Stefan would have yapped my ear off enough to distract me.

But I was cursed to sit by some fucking?—

I opened my eyes at the shaking of the seats beside me. The intruder had arrived. I looked up to shoot them a glance, maybe even give them a nod in the form of a small greeting.

No. The person sitting next to be was not a stranger, I noted as my eyes locked in on familiar and shocked green ones as a tall man shimmied his way into the seat next to me.

I couldn’t bring my lips to twitch up into a small smile. I watched him, transfixed as if some dark voodoo magic had been placed on me. I could feel Stefan’s eyes on us, and I felt my phone vibrate in my closed fist. But I paid him no attention. I was locked in on Dakota Vernon—the man who was my seat mate for just over the next two hours.

I finally tore my eyes away from him and rushed to look out the window beside me as I noticed someone else slip into the seat on the end, the seat the other side of him.

I looked at the ground below us, and I focused on my breathing for fear of passing out if I held it any longer. I felt gentle hands graze my thigh, and I was positive it was by accident as the man beside me clipped himself into the seat securely.

I finally managed to muster my strength and forced my head forward once again. I looked down at my phone in my lap, and unlocked it to finally see what Stefan had messaged me.

Stefan: Swap seats with me.

Stefan: Now Ashton.

Stefan: I’m not fucking joking, Ashton.

“Your little boyfriend worried I’ll eat you alive?” A soft whisper came from beside me, and I let my lips part in surprise that he was talking to me in public. I turned my head to look at him, but he had his eyes closed with his chin resting on his hand with his arm propping it up by resting his elbow on the arm rest between us.

I caught the eye of the person the other side of Kota, and felt my stomach drop.

She was like a fucking vision—blonde hair cascading in soft waves down her back, each strand catching the light as if it were spun from gold. Her skin looked impossibly smooth, with a natural glow that made it hard to believe she wasn’t wearing makeup.

But she didn’t need it.

Her features were perfectly balanced, the kind of beauty that didn’t seem real—high cheekbones, a delicate nose, full lips that seemed to be permanently curved in a soft, knowing smile.

A contrast to my face. My cheeks were rounder than hers, and almost always stained a faint red against my pale skin. She looked to have the ability to tan, while I only had the ability to look like a fucking lobster at best.

I couldn’t help but stare. I knew I looked fucking stupid, but she seemed not to notice. Or if she didn’t, she didn’t mind. She was probably used to people staring at her.

There was something so effortlessly elegant about her, like she just stepped out of a dream and into the space before me. Her eyes, a shade of blue that felt almost otherworldly, sparkled with an innocence that made me feel small, and a quiet confidence that made me feel… insignificant .

She wasn’t just beautiful; she was perfect in a way that felt unfair, like she existed in a world where flaws didn’t touch her.

And then I watched as her small hand delicately touched his arm that relaxed lazily on the arm rest between the pair of them. He opened his eyes and moved his head only just to shoot her a look.

“You good, Gwen?” He asked, to which the blonde nodded her head and smiled. Despite the fact his head was mostly facing forward, I could tell his green eyes were focused solely on her. I wondered if how he was looking at her, was how I looked at him. He almost looked as if he were captivated, completely under her spell.

A small, bitter twist formed in my chest, jealousy creeping in despite the self control I was trying to exude.

I tried to brush it off, tried to convince myself it didn’t matter. He wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t his. I was Owen’s. But seeing him with her, someone who seemed so effortlessly flawless, made me feel every insecurity I’d ever had, as if they were magnified under a harsh, unforgiving light.

It made me wonder if he was using sex with me to pass the time until she was ready to be his woman. I wouldn’t doubt it if he was using me as a poor excuse of ‘the other (temporary) woman’. He seemed the type to want to keep his dick wet until the image of perfection was before him.

I felt like I was fading into the background, Kota’s brief attention on me long forgotten as he kept his eyes on the stunning beauty before us.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to use my travel pillow,” She offered, her pale blue manicured hands coming to the rounded pillow hanging around her neck.

She was wearing his favourite colour on her nails. She had to have known it was his favourite colour. She had to have meant something to him to be so blunt with her actions. The way he stared at her, the way his eyes were soft and his lips turned up into a permanent small smile.

He never looked at me that way.

He looked at me like a piece of meat. Like nothing more than a quick fuck. Like a pathetic woman who barked at his every command. And it stung, more than I wanted to admit.

“No thank you,” He replied softly before he rolled his head slightly towards me. His eyes locked into mine for a second, and I watched the change in them immediately. It made me feel queasy.

I looked at my phone and went to type back a response, but the whispers coming from the man beside me once again stopped my fingers from moving.

“Don’t go. Don’t change seats. I haven’t seen you in so long,” He sounded almost vulnerable. I looked back up from my phone, shooting him a quick glance to find his eyes closed once again.

The woman—Gwen—from the other side of him noticed my head movement and thought I had been looking at her. She shot me a smile, her super model like perfect face a stab in the heart.

But I did as the man commanded.

I remained in my seat.

But he would be damned if I had to hear that woman speak again in her ‘loving soft voice’ to him, and him reciprocate it in a similar tone.

I plugged my wireless earphones in after having dug them out of my bag, then I pressed the top playlist on my phone. I closed my eyes, embracing the soft vocals of Taylor Swift as I tried my best to calm the jealousy and fear fluttering a war inside my chest.