Heaven in Hedonism (The Sinful Series Book 3) by Emma Nichols Page B

in a matter of hours. Fuck this. “Aisle,” I announced as I gestured for him to move in.
    “Oh.” His word was short, even shorter than the two letters normally conveyed.
    I could feel people lining up behind us. The pressure was building. He wasn’t moving. With a huff, I moved into our row and slumped in the window seat. For a moment, I was silent, trying to calm down before I said something I’d regret. Only emotion took over and as soon as he was seated beside me, I sat up, leaned closer and let loose. “Why’d you even ask?” I grumbled.
    “What?” He seemed confused as he tucked his ticket into the outside pocket of his bag.
    “If you wanted the aisle, why did you even offer it to me?” I glared at him. “We could have avoided this altogether if you had just motioned for me to take the window seat. You could have even passed yourself off as a gentleman while you did it.” Leaning back, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared out the window. The sky was dark, the lighting purely artificial. For a moment, I wondered if he would even answer me. Maybe he thought I was joking. I had snapped rather suddenly. Already remorse was setting in. This was going to be a long week.
    Mac seemed to be reaching into the Just Desserts bag. I could see the movement from the corner of my eye, could hear the sound of the plastic containers moving about. How the hell could he eat at a time like this?
    Suddenly, there was a tap on my shoulder. I whipped around, my eyes flaming balls of loathing, only to discover he was holding out a cupcake for me. “What?”
    “Have a cupcake. Let me explain.” He looked at me with no guile. Whatever he had to say, I was willing to give it a listen.
    “What flavor is that?” I asked, trying not to appear too eager.
    Pulling it closer, he peeked at the label. “Strawberry Patch,” he said. “Nothing says I’m sorry like a cupcake.”
    Softening, I gazed at him. “How did you know?”
    “I guessed. I saw the way you had looked at it when the woman packed it at the bakery. It was like you were eating it with your eyes.” He teased.
    “Gah. I hate you. I hate that I’m so easy for you. Gimme the damn cupcake.” Then I snatched it from his outstretched hands and started opening the container.
    “Oh, you may want to wait until after take-off,” the stewardess commented on her way up the aisle.
    “It’ll be long gone before then,” I assured her. “I’m not one to waste time savoring.” Then I winked. For a moment, I worried Mac would think I was trying to hit on her, but when I met his eyes he was just smiling at me, confident that we were working through my anger. “So talk,” I ordered.
    “Oh.” Taking a deep breath, he began. “It’s going to sound stupid to you,” he warned.
    “I’ll take my chances. Spit it out.” Then I bit into my cupcake.
    Slowly, he leaned back and turned his face my direction. “Well, the aisle is like the protector seat. I need to be on the outside.” Then he was silent as though letting me digest his words.
    Shaking my head, I mumbled, “Insane.” Then I took another bite and sat up straight while I tried to process the nonsense he had spewed. “Do I look like I need protecting?”
    “If something happened, I should be on the outside, just like I should be closest to the door in bed,” he muttered.
    Throwing my hands up in the air, I groaned. “Well, thank God we’re not sharing a room. I like my space. I like sleeping however I want to, even if it’s diagonal.” My eyebrow rose in challenge.
    “Good for you.” He looked humbled. “I’m the man. I just want to be the man,” he murmured.
    “We have air marshals for this.” I reminded him. “They stay alert and awake so we don’t have to.” Standing suddenly, I grabbed for the blankets and pillows stored above us. “Take this. Just because we aren’t sleeping together the rest of the trip, it doesn’t mean we can’t snuggle together now, right?” Why did I