I touched Stark’s face as if I could smooth away the dark circles under his eyes. “I thought you slept most of the whole flight.” Stark kissed my palm and made what looked to be an attempt at his cocky smile, which failed miserably. “I’m cool. It’s just jet lag.” “How can you be jet-lagged before they’ve even opened the door of the jet?” I pointed my chin in the direction of the vampyre flight attendant who was busy doing whatever it was they did to get a plane open after landing. There was a whooshing sound and the seat belt light made an annoyingly loud ding! ding! sound. “There, the door’s open. I can be jet lagged now,” Stark said as he unbuckled his seat belt. Knowing he was completely full of bullpoopie, I grabbed his wrist and made him stay in his seat. “You know I can tell something’s wrong.” Stark sighed. “I’m just having bad dreams again, that’s all.
