Fighting Me by Cat Mason

the situation at the time. Even when I can see it coming, I can’t help doing the little dance, then get pissed off for playing into it. His moods are a bit unpredictable and flip so fast it leaves your head spinning sometimes. Caring and sweet, then turning standoffish and almost frigid at the drop of a hat. You never know which end is up with him and, even though it’s none of my business and I shouldn’t give a shit, it has me curious.
    With the ‘Burban loaded and ready to go, Henry shuffled us all to the airport at the ass crack of dawn in an attempt to avoid the paparazzi that follows the band like a shadow. With meticulous, to the minute planning, thanks to Camaron and Aiden, and a plan of security in place from Henry and Mack, we make it to the plane with no real issues and are seated in first class with time to spare.
    Shoving my carry on into the overhead bin, I take the seat closest to the window and start flipping through the magazine I bought before boarding. Jazzie is giggling from the seat in front of me while Hunter tells her about the doggie cookies they sent with Bits to the boarding kennel. I roll my eyes at the mention of that little fuzzy ball of evil. He is possibly the cutest dog ever, but it’s only fur deep.
    Obviously, I missed the memo on keeping everything at least two feet off the floor.
    That dog is a leg humping, barking at his own shadow, pissing on my shoes menace and he has to be stopped. Nothing and no one will ever change my mind. Once you piss on and chew up a perfectly good pair of Gucci sandals, you’re dead to me.
    “No, Mack, I’ll take it, I need to have the aisle seat anyway.”
    Henry’s big body stops in front of me. Reaching above me, he shoves his bag into the overhead before looking down at me. “You sure you’re gonna be able to handle two weeks on the beach with this bunch?” he asks, sitting beside me, sprawling his legs out as far as he can before slipping his sunglasses into the front pocket on his shirt. “Last chance to run like hell now.”
    “Yep, more than ready.” I reply, thinking about all the things I have been planning to do with the kids. “It’s going to be lots of fun.”
    “Hmm,” Henry replies, then nods, his eyes on me and that confident smirk on his face yet again. Those goddamn dimples winking at me from the corners of his cheeks taunt me. Shaking my head, I turn and stare out the window, wanting to focus on anything other than him.
    How in the hell am I going to sit here for an entire flight with him and not want to smack that smirk off his face, repeatedly?
    “This is your Captain speaking,” a voice booms from the speakers. “We have perfect weather all the way in to Key West and hope you enjoy your flight with us this morning.”
    The flight attendant comes over the speaker and begins explaining exit strategies and proper belt and mask procedure while others make sure everyone is buckled in before we are taxied out onto the runway. Henry fumbles with the seat belt buckle, his big hands trembling nervously. “You got that?” I ask, crossing one leg over the other, watching in amusement as the usually calm and collected man is clearly not okay right now.
    “Yeah, sure,” Henry’s reply is higher pitched than normal. Finally clicking the belt into place, Henry grips the arm rests so tightly with both hands that his knuckles change color. Pressing his head against the back of the seat, he closes his eyes tightly and blows out a breath just before the plane starts to move.
    Reaching over, I cover his hand with mine, making him jump. His entire body is wound so tight, his hands are trembling and clammy. “Hey, are you okay?” I giggle. “You don’t look the type to be afraid of flying.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous, Rae. I’m not afraid of flying,” he argues back, his eyes still firmly closed. “Not too excited about possibly crashing to my fiery death, that’s all.”
    The plane shifts and bounces as it moves down the