CHAPTER 54

Timothy Adams is a sore loser. We play games on the plane back from New York. It"s been a while since I traveled first class, but with him, I wouldn"t care if we were stuffed in with the bags. Sitting next to him, hearing him laugh and seeing him smile, is amazing and maddening. "It"s a word game app," he argues, jerking his chin at my phone in his hand for emphasis. "You"re going to win by default." "That"s not true," I say, wrenching the device away from him. "Man up and compete already." He narrows his gaze. "You"re going to attack my masculinity in the middle of a commercial flight?" Then I feel a tickling at my waist and stifle a surprised shriek. "Sorry," I say to the flight attendant and the cabin in general as I shove his hands away and face the front of the plane, flushing. To him, I m