“Change of plan,” he told me. “We’re flying back to the States.”
“Actually, we call it the mainland,” I corrected, holding up a finger. “Because, you know, Hawaii is one of the states. It’s a real pet peeve for us locals—”
I cut off my explanation, though, when the penny finally dropped. Did he just say we were flying to the mainland?
“Wait…what?”
24
JAZZ
Less than three hours after my shower, we were on a plane to Boston, in the front, not the back like I was used to. I’d never flown first class before this. One of Brad’s sponsors was an airline company, so he got to go often. But when we were together, I’d always had to ride in economy and just meet him at the gate.
The whole experience kind of blew my mind. The dedicated attendant called me Ms. Hayes because apparently, she’d memorized the entire passenger list. And she offered us champagne and chocolate-covered macadamia nuts before the flight even took off.
However, I had to accept the flute with my left hand because Han was holding my right. He hadn’t said why we were flying to his East Coast home, only that we needed to. And when I pointed out that I wouldn’t be able to work if I went with him to the mainland, he just offered to pay me for whatever classes I had to miss.
And when I reminded him that I didn’t want his money—that me working was already about me paying him back on my own terms, he drew me into his arms and hugged me to his chest.
“What will it take?” he asked, his voice quiet and sober. “What will it take for you to come with me? Because I need to go back, and I will not be able to operate if I’m worried about you down here.”
And when he put it like that….
Well, let’s just say, here I was, on a flight to Boston.
But under the circumstances, the trip was uneventful. We ate free meals, drank complimentary champagne, and watched a couple of movies together, just like all the other couples in first class.
Except we weren’t a couple. Those other people had labeled each other, had probably started their relationships out with first dates—not six-figure debts.
But we burned more intensely than those other couples in first class. It was a flight out of Hawaii, so none of them were holding hands the entire time.
And as we made our way down the escalator stairs after we landed, I was pretty sure none of the other males dipped his head down to whisper in their woman’s ear, “Twelve hours. That’s the longest I’ve gone without having you for weeks now. Is she angry at me?”
My face burned. By now, I knew exactly what Han referred to when he said “she”—and she clenched in answer to his question, awakening at just the sound of his voice.
Han kept going as if he could hear exactly what she was saying. “Tell her I have to see to my brother. Then I’ll see to her. Just a few more hours until I am inside her.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how to answer. Everything with Han was the opposite of how it’d been with Brad, who would’ve just said something like, “Hey, Jazzy, let’s do it when we get back to the hotel room, K?”
Han was the one who didn’t do relationships, but he made me feel like a newbie surfer on the North Shore in December. So, so not ready for the big waves.
“Han! Hey, Han! Over here!”
I looked up from our intimate conversation to find a huge guy standing by the baggage carousel where we were supposed to pick up Han’s suitcase.
He appeared to be Chinese, like Han, but he was no Fae King. More like an ogre with a human overlay. His face seemed to have been carved from granite. And his dark brown eyes were even harder, especially when he regarded me.
“Who the hell is this?” he demanded to know as soon as we came to a stop in front of him. And his voice didn’t carry a hint of Han’s careful ESL accent.
I could only assume he was a product of where he grew up like me. I spoke with a laidback Hawaii surfer accent, and he sounded like he’d fallen out of a movie featuring East Coast gangsters.
“Hey, I’m Jazz,” I answered, throwing him a shaka.
Instead of matching my polite greeting, the guy blinked hard at me then looked to Han to ask again. “Who the hell is this?”
Han answered him in Cantonese, effectively cutting me out of the conversation before he dropped my hand to pull his suitcase off the conveyor belt.
It made sense. I’d only brought my carry-on since just about every piece of clothing I was keeping in the 2nd bedroom closet could fit inside of it, along with a couple of dresses. Whereas, he had that suit every day of the week thing going on along with the rest of his Silent Triad crew.
