Fly with Me: a novel by Andie Burke

chapter 13

“You’re drunk.” Olive steadied Stella with a hand on the small of her back.

“You’re drunker.” Stella hiccuped, disproving her point completely. “You’re sure you’re fine with me staying the night? I could call an Uber. They have ones with Minnie Mouse ears. I love Minnie Mouse ears.” Her lips pressed into a pout as she leaned against a column outside the lobby. Her words were adorably slurred. “I wish I had my Minnie Mouse ears with me.”

“Your hotel is all the way near the airport. Please, stay.”

“I don’t want to impose.” Stella stumbled again as she crossed the threshold of the hotel, hair and shirt askew, yet she looked as amazing as she always did.

Olive helped her stay upright. They stood almost nose to nose. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Her breath puffed against Olive’s face, smelling of limes and chocolate and tequila. Her cheeks were flushed pink, lips soft and full. Her eyes focused on Olive’s mouth.

“If you stay to hang out with me tomorrow, I’ll buy you Minnie Mouse ears. Sparkly ones.”

“Really?”

They inched closer.

“I—”

“Where have you been?” The voice was harsh, grating. And familiar.

Olive turned, and there stood the last person on the planet she wanted to see right now.

“Shit,” Olive hissed.

Lindsay’s jaw was hard-set. Her beachy blond hair was pulled back into a curated wild ponytail. She wore tiny denim cutoffs and a crocheted crop top. “I’ve been calling you.”

“My phone died a few hours ago.”

“I thought you were dead in your hotel room. I mean, you know running isn’t really your thing. I was worried, but those assholes at the desk wouldn’t tell me your room number.”

Olive grunted. “Derek told me you were here. Why’d you come?”

“Maybe I still had hope.” Lindsay’s makeup was less perfect than normal. The expression lines of her face were more pronounced. It was almost like she wasn’t lying about being worried.

Olive rolled her eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ, Lindsay.”

“I know you still blame me about last year, but you brought another woman here?” Lindsay scoffed and turned to Stella. “Typical. You know that Olive’s not exactly sta—”

“Lindsay. Stop.” Olive almost growled the word, but before she could say anything else, Stella cut in.

“I’m not another woman. I mean, obviously I am another woman. That is to say, I am a woman and I’m here with her, as in standing with her, but I’m not with—”

“Oh, you’re straight.” Lindsay shot Olive an acerbic grimace that said, You cannot be serious right now.

“No, I mean, I’m not straight. But we’re not.” Stella waved a nervous hand. “No. No. No. Nothing like that. No. We just met. We’re—uh, friends,” she ended weakly. “So, um. Not dating.”

A pang went through Olive at the sheer number of negative words in that monologue of half sentences. She couldn’t even be happy about the clear acknowledgment that Stella wasn’t straight because clearly Stella thought there was nothing between them. The kiss probably meant nothing to her.

Olive glared at Lindsay. “You have no right to be here. You have no right to say shit like that to my … friend.”

“I came to see you because I thought this weekend would be hard for you, and I wanted to check in. Derek was worried about you too, but of course he’s covering your shifts so he couldn’t come.” She sighed, almost fretfully. “Especially with all the news coverage about what happened on the plane. Must be triggering for you.”