Page 12 of Mark
“Are you serious?” I ask, beginning to worry he may actually get me arrested. “You’d actually try to get me arrested when all I’m doing is going away?”
He eyes me up and down. “On your own?” he asks doubtfully.
“I’m meeting my family there. They evidently got an earlier flight.” I don’t even know why I’m explaining it to him.
Mark sighs in pity, or maybe annoyance—the jury is still out. “Move over,” he demands.
“Let me get out, and you can get in.”
“Sit by the window,” he tells me, annoyance lacing his tone.
“This is my seat,” I point out.
“Does it matter?”
“If the plane goes down then yes. I want to be identified properly.”
His friend snorts. “He’s afraid of flying so it’s probably best if you sit by the window before he moves you to it.”
“Oh my god,” I hiss out, moving over to the window.
“Was that hard?” Mark asks as he drops down in the seat next to me.
“Harder than it would be to throw you off this plane whilst we are in the air,” I taunt, and find amusement when he goes a little green.
“Fucking hell,” Liam moans. “I don’t want to listen to this the entire flight.”
“What are you moaning about?” a girl in front asks as she leans over the seat in front of us. She’s beautiful, with big doe brown eyes. “Hey, aren’t you Mark’s obsessed neighbour? I love the dedication but, girl…”
I growl low in my throat. “I’m not obsessed with him,” I cry before turning to him. “Are you really that full of yourself that you need to tell people I’m obsessed with you? You are the one who stole my doormat.”
“You weren’t using it,” he argues.
“And my cat,” I remind him.
“Dude, that’s low,” the girl mutters.
“Her cat broke into my flat,” he cries for the entire plane to hear.
“And he steals my food,” I tell them, puffing out my chest.
“I don’t steal your food,” he snaps. “Why do you keep accusing me of ludicrous things?”
“Funny, because the delivery driver said you took it from him,” I admit snidely.
The guy beside him leans forward. “That might have been me. I hadn’t eaten in forever.”
“And the time it was taken from my own doorstep?”
The girl clears her throat. “That was actually me. I don’t like seeing food go to waste and it smelled so good.”
“See, I didn’t steal your damn food,” Mark confirms.
I glare at him. “You still stole my cat and doormat.”
“For the last time, I didn’t steal your cat.”
“Sister, switch places with me. I will do anything,” Liam pleads.