Chapter 19

I hate flying more than anything in the world, so when Harper offered me hash brownies, I filled my entire mouth. Now I'm wobbly on my legs and determining everything as hilarious, which is way better than biting my nails at the mere prospect of flying.

We are at a restaurant past the gates, about to eat and fill our bellies before boarding our plane. Harper told me it's more pleasant not flying on an empty stomach.

I hope she is right.

"I'm going to go for their burger," Harper mumbles from behind her menu, tapping her colorful nails against the brochure. "Or maybe I should for a salad? We will drink a lot of calories during this trip, and I should think about my form. My wife would hate me if I returned both tanned and entirely out of shape after we have agreed on training again."

Smiling, I rock back and forth in my seat, giggling when I burp. I'm not feeling too well—eating hash brownies for the first time at an airport wasn't the brightest idea.<