If it would mean seeing Shelby, he would have happily taken the arrest option, but nowhere in the crowd was a tall, dark-haired woman ready to tell him he was a dumbass and then hopefully forgive him.

“Flight six twenty to New Orleans, do you know if it got delayed?” he asked, still eyeballing the passengers in line, looking for Shelby.

The agent shook his head. “Some kind of storm system is moving through later, so they moved up that flight’s departure time. Turned this place into chaos with all those passengers trying to get through early. It has already boarded and is about to take off. You’re too late.”

The news was a punch in the gut that knocked all the air out of him. He flopped down into the chair, his legs not strong enough to hold him up under the staggering weight of the news.

“I heard a rumor, though, that they added another flight out tonight to make up for it,” the agent said.

It was the best news he’d ever heard. Whatever it took, he was getting on that flight.

…

Sitting in seat 14C on a plane destined for New Orleans, Shelby tightened the seat belt.

Then she loosened it.

Then she tightened it again.

No matter what she did, though, it felt wrong, but then again so did everything. Packing up her belongings and sticking the boxes in the building’s basement storage until she found a place in New Orleans made her eye twitch. Putting her carry-on stuffed with a week’s worth of clothes in the overhead bin made her queasy. The Ice Knights home screen on her phone made her weepy.

And the idea that Ian was out there somewhere and that she wouldn’t see him again? That was fucking terrifying.

Every nerve in her body was screaming and her fight-or-flight response had gone to full-on get-the-hell-out-of-here mode. All she could think of was Ian. The night he taught her how to skate. How he’d stuck up for his brother even when he was so mad, he couldn’t talk to Alex. The breathtaking way he looked at her after making her come so hard she was surprised her toes weren’t still curled.

She had to get out of here.

She had to get to Ian.

On the verge of hyperventilating, she unfastened her seat belt and stood up. On the inhale, she popped open the overhead bin and on the exhale, she had her bag and was heading down the aisle as the other passengers stared at her and wondered aloud what was going on.

She’d made it almost to the front when a flight attendant blocked her way.

“The cabin doors are about to close,” he said with a testy smile. “You have to sit down.”

“I need to get out of here.” She had to get to Ian.