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The flight attendants start helping people gather their things, fielding questions about checked bags and what’s going to happen next. I can hear the one nearest to us saying over and over again that accommodations will be arranged and that we should speak to the people inside the airport who will have more information and can guide us to the next steps.

I grab my carry-on and file off the plane after Tate, feeling a little dazed from everything.

The Ridgeview, Ohio airport is warm when we step inside of it. It’s also incredibly tiny. Compared to the Atlanta airport, even compared to the one that’s closest to Hope Falls, it’s practically a bus stop for all the stuff they have.

It’s currently packed with people, mostly from the full plane that just had to get evacuated here. If there’s anyone waiting to actually leave from this airport, they’re drowned out by the crush of annoyed passengers all trying to be first in line at the information desk.

Someone brings out luggage from the plane, and I grab mine before trying to figure out the best way to move forward. The poor woman behind the counter is wide eyed and overwhelmed already, clearly not prepared or staffed for something like this. I feel a pang of sympathy for her and the rest of the staff.

After a few minutes, someone comes over the PA, sounding harried. “Attention all passengers, unfortunately, due to a line of storms that will be crossing right over us, there will be no outgoing or incoming flights from this airport for the next few days. If you are one of the passengers from flight 1329, which departed from Atlanta today, please see our desk agent for help making alternate arrangements. Thank you.”

Everyone groans at that, a few people cursing loud enough for everyone to hear. The desk agent looks like she wishes she could be anywhere else right now, and I don’t blame her for that.

Fuck. We’re stuck then. I think about texting Marnie and my family to let them know about the delay and get myself into the line to see what can be done about finding a place to crash for as long as it takes for flights to be going out again.

Tate comes up behind me, putting his own phone away. He keeps craning his neck like he’s looking for someone, and I turn to ask if he has friends coming to pick him up or something when he smiles, but not at me.

“Ah, there they are,” he says.

“Who?”

“My friends.” He gestures to someone in the crowd, and when they come forward, my stomach drops. Ares steps past a group of women, with the big guy he called Callan following after him.

My eyes practically bug out of my head as I whip around to stare at Tate. “You know him?” I demand, meaning Ares. “You’re traveling with him?”

He blinks, clearly confused. “Yeah? You know them?”

“One of them,” I mutter. “Ares. But you weren’t sitting together.”

Tate shrugs. “I was originally going to have to fly in by myself on a later day, but then my plans changed. By the time it was all sorted out, it was too late to get tickets with them.”

Of course. Of fucking course. I meet a man who’s kind and hot and good to me when I’m spiraling, and of course he has to be connected to fucking Ares Thornton. There was no way the universe would just let me have this without making it complicated as hell.

Tate is still watching me with confusion, like he’s trying to figure out what my reaction is about, and it hits me that this means Tate doesn’t know who I really am. I wonder if that means that Ares doesn’t talk about me to them.

Before I can ask, Ares and Callan are coming over, and Ares looks about as happy to be here as I feel. Callan hangs back, watching everything with intense eyes, but he doesn’t say much.

“What the hell?” Ares asks, looking between Tate and me.

“Don’t even fucking start,” I mutter to him.

“I think I’m allowed to be confused when you’re standing here with Tate like you know him. Why are you here at all?” Ares fires back.

“Why do you think? You’re not the only one who’s allowed to go back home, you know. It’s not like I followed you here.”

He narrows his eyes at me, but Tate breaks in before we can start bickering. “I’m confused,” he says. “How do you two know each other?”

Ares heaves a dramatic sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s the one who’s suffering here. “This is Brynn,” he says.

“Yeah, we met on the plane,” Tate replies. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Ares gives him a significant look. “She’s the one I told you guys about.”

Tate’s whole face changes, morphing from confusion to shock. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Brynn Carter is the girl who tried to destroy your family? You never mentioned that it was her.”

Anger hits me hot and fast, and I glare at Ares and then at Tate. “I thought you had better taste in people than this. I never would have let things go as far as they did if I’d known you were friends with him.”

Ares’ head whips around to stare at me when I say that, and he doesn’t say anything, but there is a definite tensing of his jaw.