Shea croaks, groggily wiping his hands over his face. I smile, untangling my hand from Nick’s. “You looked comfortable. Didn’t want to wake you.” Shea blinks a couple of times, focusing his eyes on me “What happened?” He gets up from his seat and crouches down in front of me. “You were crying. What happened?” He narrows his eyes at Nick for a moment before leaning up and wrapping his arms around me. “Let’s go,” he says, straightening up and standing me up with him. The doors of the jet have been open for a couple of minutes, but we’re waiting for the luggage and our car to drive up. “I’m fine,” I respond, shrugging out of his hold, though he doesn’t let me go completely. “I’m good now.” I inch a little further away, feeling self-conscious about the attention he’s paying me and needing to put space between us. Shea’s eyes move from my face to Nick’s in a glare. “What the fuck happened?” “Not my place to say, bro,” Nick responds quietly.
