Callum’s cheeks are fiery red when he swallows. His eyebrows lift a touch. “Every night?”

I nod, glancing away when I feel my own cheeks warm. “As much as I love wearing comfy clothes at the food truck, I do miss dressing up and feeling pretty.”

“You’re always pretty, no matter what you wear.”

It’s no longer just my cheeks that are warm. His low growl sets every inch of my skin on fire.

The cheery flight attendant from earlier walks up to our row, still beaming. “Miss, I managed to find someone to trade seats with you, if you’re still interested.”

Callum directs a pointed look at me. Because he already knows, even though I haven’t uttered a word. I don’t want to sit next to anyone other than him.

“I changed my mind,” I say to her. “I think I’ll stay.”

•   •   •

When I open my eyes, it’s still dark in the cabin. I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but it wasn’t long after I declined the flight attendant’s offer to trade seats. Callum and I chatted some more, flirted some more, laughed some more, and then my eyelids started to feel heavy. The last thing I recall is pressing against the headrest of my seat and closing my eyes.

But right now my head is propped on something firmer than the headrest. A few more seconds, and my eyes adjust to the dimness of the cabin. I register something underneath my cheek.

Callum’s shoulder.

A sharp intake of air is my only response. I immediately clamp my mouth shut to keep from making too much noise. With each second that passes, I’m more alert. I notice the rhythmic, up-and-down movement of his chest, a telltale sign that he’s deep in sleep.

Slowly, I lift my head up and away from him. He responds with a soft moan, then it’s back to that gentle hum of air going in and out. It rings like a soft purr in my ear.

I shake my head and scoot closer to the window, wondering how the hell I felt comfortable enough to fall asleep on him. It’s a struggle to process through the sleep-fog, but I get there.

Our breakthrough conversation. It’s the fact that through the Question Game, we revealed intimate personal truths about ourselves. The fact that flirting with him was surprisingly fun. The fact that we went from rivals to friendly flight companions to something else in a matter of hours. It’s the fact that his shoulder feels better than any pillow I’ve ever fallen asleep on. Despite how glorious it all feels, it seems entirely inappropriate to use Callum as a human pillow in this moment. Dozing off with your head on someone’s shoulder is a decidedly couple-y thing to do. And Callum and I sure as hell are not a couple.