“That’s the tenth time I’ve heard that in three weeks,” he grumbled.

“Really? I’ve already told you. I like my apartment, and Wick isn’t going to let you move in.”

He nodded, plugging an earbud into the ear farthest from me. I smiled, knowing he wanted to keep the other free in case I had anything more to say. He tapped on his phone display with his thumb, chose a song, and then leaned back, holding my legs on his lap with his free hand.

The attendant at the desk called for anyone needing extra time to board, and then for first-class. That was strangely amusing to me, remembering the days when I would already be standing in line with my family, waiting to occupy one of the first seats—and that was before our private jet.

When she called our group, Tyler stood, grabbing my backpack and his, and his rolling luggage. I pulled up the handle on my suitcase and pulled it behind me, giggling at how weighed down Tyler looked.

“You got it?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, baby, I got it.”

I stopped mid-step, watching him take a few steps before he realized what he’d said and turned back. “What?”

“You just … haven’t said that since at the diner with Sterling.”

“When I kissed your cheek?” He chuckled, lost in the memory.

“Yeah, when I told the waitress you had the clap?”

He frowned. “She still thinks that.”

“Good,” I said, shouldering past him.

We checked our luggage at the gate and then followed the line down the jetway and onto the plane. We were herded like cattle to 20C and 20D, and Tyler struggled to find empty spaces for our backpacks. He resorted to stuffing mine into the overhead bin across and one row back, and then putting his under the seat in front of him. He collapsed into his seat and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m tired. You kept me up all night.”

I pressed my nose gently against his cheek, giggling. “You weren’t exactly objecting.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I do something stupid like that?”

“It’s not about flying. You’ve been on edge all morning.”

He thought about what he wanted to say and then sighed. “Just something on my mind.”

“About me?” I asked, sitting up.

“Sort of. Well, yeah, but something I want to talk about later.”

“Well now you have to tell me,” I said.

Passengers were still filing in, struggling to find space for their carry-on luggage. A man a few rows back was swearing under his breath and then barking at the flight attendant.

Tyler looked back, assessing the situation. “It just sucks spending a long weekend with you, and then going home alone to my apartment.”

“You have a roommate.”