Arianna’s POV
The flight back to New York was the longest seven hours of my life. I sat by the window, jaw tight, arms folded across my chest, every inch of my muscles screaming for me to remain calm.
The sky outside was bruised with clouds, streaks of pale light cutting through endless gray. Killian sat two seats away, silent, unreadable as usual. It almost felt like last night didn't happen.
Elliot occupied the seat between us, blissfully unaware–or he was simply choosing not to get involved. His headphones hung around his neck, tablet balanced on his lap. Occasionally, he would steal glances at us as though he was watching a silent film with bad subtitles.
Killian didn’t acknowledge me. Not once. I was invisible.
Fine. Perfect. Wonderful.
If he’d tried, I might have cracked. If
