“Fucking hell, Ivy League,” he said. “You stress me out.”

“Which one of us overslept?”

“That would be me.”

“Okay then.” I let my head relax back and closed my eyes.

A warm hand slid under mine, and our fingers interlaced.

“Falyn?” Taylor whispered.

“Not yet,” I said, looking over at him.

He was leaning his head back, too, his face turned toward me. “You had another nightmare last night.”

“I did? Is that why you overslept?”

“What happened to you … was it bad?”

“It was.”

He grimaced. “Is going back going to hurt you?”

“Yes.”

He breathed out a puff of air and looked forward. “Then why are we going?”

“Because it has to hurt before it can get better.”

He looked back at me, his eyes falling to my lips. “I don’t want you to hurt.”

“I know,” I said, squeezing his hand. “But you’ll be with me, right?”

“For as long as you’ll let me.”

He let his head fall back against the seat. He was fidgeting. “I talked to Tyler. He said you were a fantastic kisser.”

“Oh, yeah?” A smug grin curved my lips. “How did that go over?”

“I punched him again.”

“Do you ever argue without your fists?”

“Not really. I …” He looked at my mouth again. “I can’t figure out why I can’t stop thinking about you. From the moment I looked up from my menu at the Bucksaw, everything has been different.”

“I’ve gathered that Maddox boys just aren’t told no very often. You love the challenge. Even Tyler admitted to it.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s more than that. I saw something in your eyes, something familiar.”

“Loss,” I said simply.

Taylor blinked, and I turned away from him, pretending to pay attention to the flight attendants’ safety instructions.

He shook his head, confused. “What makes you say that?”

“You’ll see.”

He sighed. “I guess I can’t expect you to tell me your shit when I haven’t told you mine.”

The captain came over the PA system and instructed the flight attendants to prepare for takeoff. Taylor tightened his seat belt and squeezed my hand.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I said.

“I know,” he replied. “But I want you to trust me. So, I’m going to trust you.”

I swallowed down the absolute dread threatening to strangle me. There was no telling what he was about to say.

“My little brother Travis is in deep shit,” he spoke close to my ear, whispering as softly as he could while still being heard over the noise of the plane. “He was involved in a fire a few months ago.”

The plane surged forward, and the entire fuselage rattled until the front wheels left the ground. The wings shifted, and we drifted right, the blinding morning sun shining through our window. Taylor closed the shade and then looked to me for a reaction.