Will Autumns

I really needed to work on not pissing off Bex. Her rage was obvious. Every movement jerky. From handing in her first class ticket at the gate, to her shoving her bag in the upper seat compartment on the plane, to the way she looked at anything and everything but me.

You idiot. 

I didn't need Sam telling me I was blowing things up in my face. I could figure out that much on my own. Watching someone else make her laugh and seeing her smile at him with open curiosity as he gave her his number had caused my brain to shut down and my body to react before I could get a hold of myself. 

She isn't yours, dumbass. 

I tried to work up a way to apologize. To say something, anything to make things better, but before I could say a word, Bex pulled her headphones over her head, yanked her hoodie up,  and leaned her head against the window. The message was clear. A 'do not disturb' sign might as well have been written across her forehead. 

We sat in awkward silence as the plane took off, the sun shifting as the plane tilted, sending orange light washing across the cabin, bathing everything in fire. And still, Bex remained in her cocoon. 

Twenty minutes into the flight, the stewardess came by. "Anything to drink? A cocktail? Water? Soda?" 

I felt suddenly overheated, brain too hot for my body, fingers itching. "Water," I forced out as the plane tilted in the opposite direction. The woman nodded, eyes moving to Bex, only to glance back at me. 

"Anything for her?" she asked, her voice dropping lower. I glanced over to find Bex asleep, the plane's movement causing her head to tilt enough to send her hood falling back down over her shoulders. 

"A can of Diet Coke and a cup of ice," I replied, forgetting for a moment that I wasn't supposed to know Bex as well as I did. Not when no one was around to think we were dating. The woman smiled and left to get our drinks. 

I glanced at Bex, taking in her relaxed expression in the sunshine. Her dark lashes brushing her cheeks, her black hair glistened with sparks of orange as the sun brushed across her skin.

The plane moved again, jolting violently, and suddenly I found Bex's head on my shoulder, headphones down around her neck. My body stiffened. She let out a contented sigh in her sleep and the sound sent a shiver down my body. 

Bex smelled like vanilla and jasmine, tattooing itself onto my brain for future recall. 

Keep it together, Will.

The stewardess came back, dropped off our drinks, and smiled at us with a dreamy-eyed expression. "You two are cute together." 

"Thanks," I murmured as she left, unsure of what else to say. 

I selfishly looked down at Bex again, punishing myself with the sight of her face against my shoulder, close to me, the sight working its way into a core memory. 

She is going to hate this when she wakes up, I reminded myself.

Bex burrowed her face into my neck, her breath tickling my skin, and I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe. I hadn't realized that Bex was a cuddly sleeper, and the reality of that knowledge threatened to undo me. 

Stay still, I warned myself. She's exhausted. She's clearly been working nonstop for months. This is the first time she's had to sit and do nothing for who knows how long, and you are making things weird. Just let her sleep. And think about how not to be an idiot when she wakes up.

...

Bex slept for TWO HOURS on my shoulder, her face against my skin, her lips pressing against my collarbone. It was some of the best and worst hours of my life. She managed to burrow her face deeper against my neck, her nose brushing against my skin like a trail of fire, leaving me in a state of constant distraction. The fact that I managed not wake her with my wild heart rate was a miracle. The impulses she was sparking, waking the illogical part of my brain that didn't care if we were on an airplane surrounded by people. 

Don't be an idiot, Will. 

But in a moment of weakness, I reached down and brushed a strand out of her face, only to have her eyes snap open and stare up at me in surprise. Neither of us moved, my hand still touching her hair, her face still against my neck. 

"Oh my gosh," she whispered, jolting up and moving fully back into her seat, face burning red. 

"I..." we both said at the same time. 

"Your hair looked uncomfortable," I said lamely.

"I didn't mean to sleep on you," she said, yanking the hood back over her head, trying to cover how wildly pink her cheeks had gotten. 

"It's fine. You looked like you needed the sleep."

Her eyes flashed, but she let it go, seeming relieved that I wasn't going to point out her cuddly tendencies, and went to put her headphones fully back on her head, getting ready to block me out again when I blurted, mouth acting on its own. 

"Did you know that Nintendo means leave luck to heaven?"

I wanted to kick myself. That wasn't even close to what I had been working up the courage to say. Try again nimrod. 

It had taken me two hours of distraction, coming up with a thousand different ways I could apologize, and not a single one of them had involved video games.

Bex tugged her gaze to my face, eyes suddenly heated. "Really? That's your ice breaker?"

She looked back out the window. "It means leave fate to heaven, moron. You would go with the most popular answer."

I fought a smile and the urge to laugh. Even while angry, she had to beat me. "There is no proof of that."

"There is no proof of your theory either. Nintendo lost the records a long time ago," she said to the window. "Now don't talk to me unless you have something of value to say. I'm done with the asshole version of you."

I let out a slow breath, my hands gripping my water cup for courage. "You're right. That wasn't cool, what happened back at the lounge."

She stilled, seeming thrown by my honesty. Just wait. There's a whole lot more coming.

I glanced past her, out the window of the plane, heart pounding. "I..." I swore softly. "I don't do well near bars."

I could feel her eyes on me now, making it hard to think. To breathe— something that had become so common around her, you'd think she'd pick up on it. And the way she currently wore a pair of shorts that did little to hide her long, lean legs, showcasing the curves of one of her finest assets, did not help me process words clearly.

"I don't drink for a reason," I added.

My mouth was suddenly unable to formulate the rest, the monologue I'd been practicing the entire flight, vanishing from my mind. Instead, I landed on another truth. "I am terrible at talking about it. And most people don't know. But the short story is something happened and I ended up in trouble. My brother, Sam, got me out of it. But the not drinking thing is something you should know. It's important that you know if we are doing this together."

I couldn't bring myself to look at her. To watch her expression change from irritation to pity. Not on Bex. 

She was quiet for a long moment.

"Was being in the first class lounge hard?" she finally asked.

With the smell of alcohol on your breath? The way it felt like a taunt to kiss you? The way I wasn't sure if it was you or the taste of something else I wanted? With the way that man made you laugh? The fact that he picked a stupid cliché drink for you? The fact that I care at all? The fact that alcohol will always distract me?

Excruciating.

"Yes."

"So you were just trying to get away from the bar." She didn't phrase it like a question. "Does the alcohol make you more or less competitive?"

I finally looked at her, brow raised. "Not going to dive into my past?" My tone was hard, bruised, and vulnerable. 

She wore a strange expression. "No. Not all secrets should be yanked out like a weed. If you want to share, you can. But I don't need to know everything," she murmured.

I swallowed, her sudden kindness making something inside of me hurt. "It makes me a monster." I looked away. "I go to weekly meetings. Have since I was seventeen."

She sucked in a sharp breath, clearly surprised. "I'm sorry."

I shrugged. "We all have baggage. Mine is just something that's better off being shared. Or at least something a teammate should know in a high-pressure situation."

"Is that why you don't normally compete?"

"One of the reasons."

She didn't push. Instead, she touched my arm, the press of her fingers along my skin nearly unraveling me. "Thank you. For telling me."

I looked down at her hand, memorizing the way her skin felt against mine, then looked up into her dark eyes, pushing down the effect she had on me. "What are teammates for?"

Bex offered me a tentative smile, an olive branch for the very first time. "My teammate would know that I am an only child. That I love my dad, but I can't stand my mom."

She looked away, expression sad. "And they would know that I freaked out at the idea of not having a door between us because... my parents used to fight. A lot. They would walk around the house fighting." She pushed her hair out of her face, eyes distant. "I would hide in my room. A door always made me feel like their anger, the things they threw at each other, their instability couldn't touch me because there was a door there. A door means I am safe. That the space is mine." 

Anger sparked, bubbling up wildly. The image of a small Bex hiding in her room, headphones on, burrowed under the covers, eyes on the door, broke something inside of me.

Bex shrugged, trying to belittle the memory. To make it small and unimportant. Like the idea of bothering someone else with her pain wasn't worth it. 

Don't do that, I wanted to argue. You are worth every detail, every piece of baggage you come with, Bex. 

She continued. "I played a lot of video games to block them out. That's how I found gaming. But if anyone asks, I always just say I was a loner."

A surprised laugh bubbled up and out of her, and then she swore, shocked. "I didn't mean to say any of that." 

She glanced up at me, looking horrified with herself. "One life story for another?" 

I reached out a hand for us to shake on it. Her fingers brushed against mine, sending a shock through me. "Deal." 

"Just don't expect anymore," she muttered, pulling her hand away like touching me was disgusting, back to her normal demeanor with me.

I gave her a playful smile. "I wouldn't dare." 

---

Thank you for reading chapter nine! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!

UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!

Do you think Will's history of drinking will come into play? 

Will Bex and Will continue to share secrets?

Do you think Bex will accidentally cuddle sleep with Will again?

CHAPTER QUESTION - Have you ever fallen asleep on someone? Was it awkward?