Page 66 of Love Unwritten
Lorenzo’s eyes narrow, but thankfully, he refrains from asking any follow-up questions about him.
“But now you know better. You know what signs to watch out for, and you have the power to walk away at any moment.”
I sigh. “I don’t know.”
Willow pulls me into a hug. “Don’t let your fear of the past stop you from the future you want.”
“It’s not like I want to be afraid.”
“No one does.”
“But I keep thinking… What if I suck?”
Willow releases me with a scoff. “Like you could ever write a bad song.”
I shoot her a look.
She huffs. “We’re not counting high school here.”
“Cole could hate whatever I write.”
Willow’s smile is small but sure. “Well, you’ll never know unless you try.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ellie
I’ve been on two airplanes in my whole life, and I suffered through both rides with gritted teeth, a constant cold sweat, and a churning stomach that never relented. Avoiding my fear of flying didn’t take much effort since my family chose vacation destinations we could visit by car, but now I no longer have the luxury of avoiding the inevitable.
Willow suggested I take something to help with the flight, but I never gathered the courage to talk to Rafael about taking prescription medication while on the job. Admitting my fear aloud felt silly, especially to someone who has his own private jet and a passport stamped with tons of countries, so I kept my worries to myself.
When I suggested flying commercial while Nico and Rafael flew in the family’s private jet, Nico vetoed the idea before volunteering them to fly with me. His father protested, but Nico didn’t back down, solely because I had secretly told him that I liked bigger planes. I never explained why, but thankfully, he didn’t ask.
Rafael, on the other hand, questioned me a few times about flying commercial versus private, but I always found a way out of the conversation before ever having to answer him.
Like today.
Thankfully, Nico does a good job of distracting me from my spiraling thoughts and his father’s questions by dragging me around the airport terminal. In the short time we’ve been waiting for our plane to arrive at the gate, we have visited three different stores, and I’ve bought an overpriced pack of sour gummy worms, a neck pillow for the long flight, a coloring book, and a fifty-count pack of colored pencils.
“Ellie.” The way Rafael says my name draws a sharp breath from me. By now, I should be used to him no longer calling me Eleanor, but my heart still takes a dive into my stomach every time he says it.
He holds my boarding pass out for me to grab. “You dropped this back at the store.”
“My bad.” My fingers tremble as I reach for the piece of paper.
“Are you okay?” He pulls back, and my fingers grasp onto air.
“Yup. Why wouldn’t I be?” I plaster on a small—albeit, very tense—smile.
He scowls. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m cold.” I wrap my arms around my torso.
“Then why are you sweating?”
My fingers twitch with irritation. How did we go from happily ignoring each other’s existence to him checking in on me like he actually gives a damn, and what’s the best way to politely tell him to stop?
When I don’t answer, he follows up with, “Are you feeling sick or something?”