A/N: hey pookies! This chapter really shows off how rom-com this book is LMAO I hope you guys like it!!  Also, thank you for 1K reads!! I love all of you for reading this silly little fanfic with little to no actual plot <3

Enjoy ;)

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Cass's POV
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"Thank you!" I manage between heaving breaths, flashing a thankful smile to the attentive flight attendant who graciously holds the door open for me, despite my being five minutes late.

"Of course miss. May I see your ticket?" she asks, her gaze expectant as she blinks at me, her jet-black hair pulled back into a sleek bun.

Nodding appreciatively while still trying to catch my breath, I dig through my purse and hand her my ticket. I watch as her previously slightly annoyed expression transforms into a friendly smile as she realizes I'm in first class.

"Right this way," she tells me smoothly, guiding me to the front of the plane while I attempt to regain my composure from practically sprinting through the terminal, eternally grateful that I made it for the last day flight to Atlanta.

Coming to a stop in front of the second row on the right-hand side of the plane, the flight attendant gestures to my window seat beside the occupied aisle seat. I offer her a quick thanks before turning to the man in the aisle seat, who seems to be engrossed in his Blackberry, looking down.

Though his features are partially obscured, I quickly tell that he's my type - dark hair, well-dressed, with a hint of stubble on his sharp jawline. My heart skips a beat at the thought of sharing the nearly three-hour flight with such an attractive seatmate. I send a grateful nod to the flight attendant, who returns it with equal warmth as she returns to the middle of the plane.

Clearing my throat and trying to suppress the nervous flutter in my stomach, I turn to the man in the aisle seat. "Excuse me, sir, I need to-" My words cut off abruptly as he looks up, my stomach plummeting as I recognize him.

A crooked grin pulls across Rick's face, his eyes sparkling with recognition as he takes me in.

"Adams. I didn't realize you had manners," Rick remarks smoothly, eliciting a heavy sigh from me, momentarily seeking strength from the ceiling above.

I'm not sure why I'm surprised to see that the firm booked our seats right next to each other.

And to think, Michonne has the nerve to call herself my friend.

Reluctantly, I meet Rick's expectant gaze, forcing myself to ignore that he looks effortlessly handsome in his simple white button-up and charcoal pants.

"Nice to see you too Grimes," I grit flatly through my teeth, mustering all the restraint to ignore his good looks and remember that I do not, under any circumstances, like him. "I need to sit down," I add tersely, meeting his unyielding gaze with a raised eyebrow, silently challenging him to move aside.

Rick remains unmoving, simply blinking up at me, a small, teasing smile tugging at his mouth.

"I need you to move," I reiterate with a sigh, gesturing for him to get his ass up from his seat and allow me to mine. Rick glances between the seats with mild confusion before meeting my gaze.

"Huh. I didn't hear the magic word," Rick mutters innocently, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he flashes me a warm smile that threatens to soften my resolve.

Suppressing the strange fluttering in my chest at the sight, I grit my teeth in frustration, determined to maintain my composure.

Fine.

If that's how he wants to play it, that's how we're playing it.

With a determined huff, I drop my heavy purse onto Rick's lap, earning a surprised grunt from him before I assertively push past him. Opting to not throw my ass in his face, I go in the opposite direction, though immediate regret flits through me as both my breasts and face end up uncomfortably close to his shocked expression.

Goddamnit.

Clearing my throat and steeling my resolve, I shoot him a pointed look, reminding him he asked for it, before smoothly squeezing past him and settling into my seat. Leaning over, I retrieve my purse from his lap, ignoring his lingering gaze on me.

Letting out a contented sigh, I settle in my seat with satisfaction, crossing my legs. It's easier today thanks to my choice of fitted plaid pants instead of my usual constricting skirts.

I hear Rick clear his throat, prompting me to glance over and find him just turning to face me, his expression a mix of amusement and curiosity.

"Why is it that you're always late?" Rick questions teasingly as the plane begins to move, undocking from the terminal and taxiing for takeoff.

Turning from stowing my purse beneath the seat in front of me, I shoot Rick an aggravated look as he gazes down at me with that infuriatingly charming smile.

"I'm not always late," I sigh as I sit back up and buckle my seatbelt, feeling the flush of embarrassment creeping up my cheeks. "Just whenever it's important, apparently," I mutter under my breath, my irritation evident.

I tried to leave earlier, couldn't, and then my taxi driver wouldn't listen to me when I told him to take a shortcut to the airport to avoid traffic. And then the security at the airport was a nightmare. Apparently, some celebrity was flying into JFK which made the crowds impossible to get through.

My eyes dart down, noticing that Rick's seatbelt isn't fastened, making me click my tongue in disapproval. "You should really put on your seatbelt," I point out, nodding to the lap of his charcoal suit pants.

When my eyes dart up to meet his, the sunlight from the window behind me basks him in a warm glow, accentuating the satisfied smile that spreads across his face. "Make a habit of staring at people's crotches, Adams?" he questions smugly, one of his brows raised, those piercing blue eyes gazing into mine.

My disloyal body reacts with a fierce blush, prompting me to roll my eyes as I look away, readjusting in my seat. "You're insufferable," I mutter, focusing my attention on the LED-lit ceiling, determined not to be distracted by his... everything.

But at the sound of his seatbelt clicking to my left, I find it exceedingly difficult to suppress a small smile.

"Oh, forgot to mention, I tried to get Glenn and Maggie to come with us. But their travel wasn't approved," Rick sighs, his voice tinged with disappointment as he stares ahead.

Turning towards him, I catch a glimpse of his expression, and a pang of disappointment tugs at my chest. "But they did so much of the work! They deserve to be here," I argue quietly, my brows knitted together, making Rick turn to me with an understanding look.

"Maybe we can get them here anyway, find a loophole. We're lawyers, it's what we do best, right?" Rick murmurs, nudging my shoulder with a playful wink, and this time fighting my smile is flat-out impossible.

Glancing down, I nod, attempting to suppress the butterflies swirling in my gut at his touch without much success.

However, the pleasant moment is abruptly shattered as the plane is cleared for takeoff and the giant metal tube we're trapped in begins hurtling down the runway. Despite having flown countless times before, the aggressiveness of takeoff never fails to terrify me.

I remember pouring over flight statistics as a kid before my first flight and discovering that nearly half of all plane crashes occur during landing and takeoff. The fact always stayed with me, festering into a very real fear that continues to affect me to this day.

Unpleasant fear twists my insides, feeling my body instantly tense against the plush seat. As usual, I clench my eyes shut, trying to steady my breathing as the roar of the engines intensifies, each decibel amplifying my anxiety.

Over the deafening sounds of the engine and the vibrations of our rapidly moving vehicle, I hear Rick's familiar voice to my left.

"Adams?" Rick asks, making me crack open one eye to look at meet his gaze. His eyes widen slightly as he looks at me, a hint of concern flickering in their blue depths. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's actually worried.

I'm sure I look like a deformed troll, curled in on myself as I fight against the fear coursing through my veins. "I-I hate takeoff," I manage to grit out, my body rigid with fear as I remain frozen in my seat.

Rick's gaze lingers on me for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed in worry. Unable to stand the pity in his expression, I clamp my eyes shut once more, shutting out the world around me.

Just breathe.

It'll be over soon.

Suddenly, a sharp gasp catches me off guard, and I realize it's coming from me, reacting to the warmth enveloping my hand. I don't need to open my eyes to know it's Rick's hand reaching out to rest on top of mine.

God, he must think I'm like a pathetic child who needs her hand held-

Interrupting my self-deprecating thoughts, the plane begins to lift off the ground, the uncomfortable change in gravity immediately making my stomach flip. Instinctively, I grasp Rick's warm, calloused hand tightly in mine, our fingers interlacing.

Somehow holding onto the man who infuriates me as tight as I possibly can is a lifeline of comfort, soothing the fear and discomfort swirling within me as the force of the plane pushes me against my seat. As we ascend through the air, the slight turbulence makes me feel nauseated, but the sensation of Rick's hand in mine seems to ground me, calming my racing mind.

Gradually, the roar of the engines subsides, the aircraft levels out, and the seatbelt lights ding off, signaling a return to normalcy.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have now reached cruising altitude. You are welcome to move around the cabin," The faded voice of the captain crackles through the speakers throughout the cabin, the familiar line calming me down.

I let out a slow, steady exhale, my skin tingling with residual fear as the adrenaline slowly ebbs away. A sense of relief washes over me as I realize that it's over, my tense body beginning to calm.

In a split second, my attention sharpens, and I become painfully aware of the lifeline that kept me going - Rick's hand. Tentatively, I pry open my eyes, glancing down to find our hands intertwined on the armrest.

My throat dries seeing his veined hand on top of mine, my figures latched onto him with a desperate strength that surprises even me. Guilt floods my senses as I realize just how tightly I'm clinging to him, his skin turning white around my fingers.

A rush of embarrassment flushes my cheeks as I swiftly disentangle my hand from his, my heart racing in an entirely different way.

"Um, thank you," I mumble, my voice barely above a whisper as I clear my throat, busying myself with retrieving a file from my purse.

"For what?" Rick asks calmly, making me pause, looking back at him. His eyebrows are raised curiously, not seeming affected at all, clearly pretending like it didn't happen. Pursing my lips, I hide my smile, leaning back in my seat.

How does he do that? Be such an insufferable ass one moment and genuinely kind the next?

I lower the tray table and spread out the file, fingers skimming over the familiar documents as I methodically review the information. Each page serves as a reassuring anchor, grounding me in the present moment as I meticulously reaffirm the details I already know.

We're going to meet up with Carol Peleiter later today, the CEO, and speak to her about the complexities in the case regarding Georgia law. It's crucial to ensure she grasps the nuances of Smith's defense strategy and how we intend to support her.

Lost in the sea of legal jargon, my mind momentarily drifts to practical matters. "D'you happen to know which hotel we'll be staying at?" I ask absentmindedly, not looking up from my papers, wondering if they set us up at the same place I stayed in Atlanta a few years ago.

"They got us rooms at Hilton in Kings County. It's not the Four Seasons but it's the best hotel for miles there," Rick responds, his words making my brows knit together with confusion. Looking up from my papers, I turn to see him scrolling through his email on his Blackberry.

Sunlight streams into the cabin, casting a golden glow that ignites Rick's profile, momentarily captivating me. His styled curls frame his face, one rogue strand daring to fall across his forehead, kind of making him look like Superman.

Rick turns towards me, his expectant expression drawing me back to the conversation. Blinking rapidly, I push aside my wandering thoughts and focus on his words.

"I thought we were landing in Atlanta. Why are going to... Kings County?" I ask, a hint of bewilderment coloring my tone as I wrinkle my nose at the unfamiliar destination.

Rick tilts his head thoughtfully, putting down his phone. "It might be because it's where both companies have their headquarters, but I could be wrong," he offers cooly, his slightly smug tone prompting me to press my lips together in response.

Touché.

"Right," I concede with a soft mutter, clearing my throat as I avert my gaze back to the papers spread before me, deliberately ignoring the mischievous grin on Rick's face.

I sense Rick about to say something before we're interrupted by the arrival of the flight attendant. "Hi there, can I get you anything to drink?" he asks, catching me off guard.

Expecting the familiar face of the sleek-bun woman from earlier, I'm surprised to see an attractive man with blonde hair and hazel eyes directing his gaze expectantly towards Rick.

Rick clears his throat. "Just water, thanks," he responds with a polite nod, prompting the flight attendant to jot down the order with a smile before turning to me.

His eyebrows flick up slightly when he sees me, a faint blush seeping onto his cheeks.

"H-Hey, want anything to drink? You know there's complimentary champagne for anyone in first class," the flight attendant, Spencer from the look of his nametag, offers with a helpful grin.

I smile broadly, but before I can respond, Rick interjects. "I'm not sure mixing her low alcohol tolerance with high altitude will end well for anyone," Rick mutters, sending a whip of outrage through me, my jaw dropping.

Spencer's eyebrows shoot up, his eyes widening. My cheeks heated with agitation, I swiftly smack Rick's arm, my teeth gritted.

An annoyingly lovely laugh escapes Rick as my hand connects firmly with his arm, definitely hard enough to leave a bruise. Ignoring his attempts to deflect my swats, I turn to the flight attendant with a sweet smile.

"Don't mind him, he's a bit slow thanks to all the pills he's on," I whisper with wide eyes, eliciting a slightly nervous smile from Spencer. "I'll take a green tea, thank you," I say sweetly, continuing to fend off Rick's hands as he tries to prevent me from smacking him again.

The flight attendant looks between us, slightly confused before nodding and moving on.

"You're such a little shit," I seethe under my breath, giving Rick one final smack on the arm before huffing and sitting back in my seat.

"You just told him I'm a pill popper!" Rick responds incredulously, still slightly laughing, making me shoot him a glare.

"You told him that I have horrible alcohol tolerance," I hiss back, my voice low and filled with simmering frustration, my narrowed eyes fixed on Rick's smirking face. As a sly grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, he leans in closer, the proximity sending a shiver down my spine.

"You do," Rick breathes smugly, his words laced with undeniable satisfaction. My heart stutters in response, his proximity stirring a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within me. "Do I need to remind you whose bed you climbed into Saturday night? Half-naked after four drinks?" Rick asks slowly, his teasing tone sending a flush creeping up my neck. This earns another smack to his arm, met with a muttered curse, but it does little to wipe the smug grin from his face.

The audible gasp behind us breaks the tension momentarily, and I turn to find an elderly couple observing our heated exchange with wide-eyes. Offering them a quick apologetic smile, I redirect my attention to Rick, shooting him a withering glare before settling back into my seat with an exasperated huff.

"When you say it like that, you make it sound like we hooked up," I hiss, refusing to meet Rick's gaze as I busily sift through the files in my lap, my thoughts a chaotic whirlwind too overwhelming to process. "Sometimes I think you're nice, and then you remind me that you're really Satan incarnate," I grumble under my breath, frustration seeping into my tone as I struggle to mask my growing irritation at our impending two-hour proximity.

This elicits a snort of laughter from Rick, which only adds to my irritation. "Just because I reminded you of things you did do, doesn't make me the devil," he breathes calmly, his grin widening with evident delight, his eyes twinkling.

Closing the file with a sharp snap, I turn to face him, my eyes narrowing icily. "I'm surprised you can even fit in the seat with your cloven hooves and forked tail. Must be uncomfortable," I retort coldly, my words dripping with sarcasm.

Rick's grin widens into a full-blown smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief. "You know, I never expected to see you this high up in the air without a broom under you," he fires back smoothly, prompting an eye roll and an exasperated shake of my head as I return my focus to the case at hand, determined to ignore his persistent teasing.

Asshole.

Just as I'm about to formulate a response, the flight attendant reappears, a Fiji bottle in hand and mug in the other as he approaches Rick. "Excuse me, sir, I'll have to lean over you," Spencer informs Rick politely, blinking expectantly at him.

Rick's grin is quickly gone, replaced by a clenched jaw and a flat expression as he takes his water bottle. After a brief moment of hesitation, he reluctantly pushes back against the seat to allow Spencer to reach me.

Spencer smiles warmly, leaning over Rick to place the green tea right in front of me. I accept it with a grateful smile, silently acknowledging his efforts.

"Thank you," I breathe warmly, meeting Spencer's gaze with a soft expression of appreciation.

Spencer, still leaning over Rick, leans in a bit closer, his hazel eyes illuminated by the sunlight as they study me intently. I feel a slight flush creeping up my cheeks under his gaze, the warmth of his attention momentarily distracting me.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, miss?" he asks kindly, his voice gentle and considerate.

Feeling a subtle shift in the atmosphere, I clear my throat and shake my head slightly, regaining my composure. "I'm fine, thanks," I reply softly, offering him a grateful smile.

"Are you sure? We-" Spencer begins to inquire further, but his words are abruptly cut off by Rick's harsh interruption.

"She said she's fine," Rick interjects flatly, his voice carrying an unusually harsh edge as he glares at Spencer, his displeasure clear.I don't blame him, I would be annoyed if he was leaning over me like that.

Spencer pulls back with a sheepish smile, a few strands of his neatly styled blonde hair falling out of place. "Right, of course. Please, if you need anything, I'll be more than happy to assist you," Spencer says, directing his smile only at me, his demeanor slightly subdued by Rick's bluntness.

Rick's jaw is still clenched, and I think I hear him mutter something under his breath, but the words evade my ears as Spencer walks away, shooting me another glance over his shoulder.

"You didn't need to be rude to him. He's just trying to do his job," I mutter, my brows raised disapprovingly as I return my focus to the file, flipping onto the last section to go through the information.

"It isn't his job that he's trying to do," Rick mutters cryptically under his breath, catching me off guard as I turn back to him with furrowed brows, seeking clarification.

Confusion clouds my mind at his enigmatic remark, but before I can ask further, Rick simply takes a sip of his water and nods toward my folder. "What are you looking at?" he asks, his blue eyes meeting mine, sending an unexpected flutter through my stomach.

"Oh- um just looking at Smith's attorney's angle. They're intense," I mutter, my voice trailing off as I immerse myself once more in the dense legal information sprawled across the documents before me. Rick nods knowingly, his expression reflecting a shared understanding of the gravity of our task.

We work on the case for an hour or so, discussing what we'll say to Carol once we arrive in Kings County. There aren't any direct flights there so we're renting a car and driving there. Luckily it's only a few hours.

As we work side by side, the passage of time marked by the steady scratching of pens against paper and the occasional rustle of pages, I find myself begrudgingly acknowledging Rick's competence. Having never worked with him before, it's undeniable that his reputation is well-earned.

He's damn good at his job and God is it annoying.

"Can you get up?" I finally break the comfortable silence, prompting Rick to look up from his copy of the case, which he grabbed from his bag earlier. We've been engrossed in our respective tasks for over an hour, but the urgency of my request is driven by a pressing need as that green tea has already worked through my system.

"Can you say please?" Rick counters with a growing smile, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he tilts his head to the side.

I narrow my eyes, a flicker of annoyance coursing through me. "I will climb over you again. Do you want that?" I retort, my tone laced with playful menace, my eyes widening threateningly as I await his response.

Rick's gaze meets mine, a flicker of something unreadable flaring in his eyes. He holds my gaze for a moment before dropping his gaze, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his lips as he rises from his seat smoothly.

A nervous flutter dances in my chest as I avert my gaze, trying to ignore the way his body moves as he gets to his feet. I straighten up, one hand lingering on the headrest as I cautiously maneuver past him, the closeness igniting a maddening tension that coils in the pit of my abdomen.

Our eyes meet fleetingly, and I struggle to ignore the intoxicating scent of his cologne, mingled with his minty breath, which sends subtle shivers down my spine. Hastily, I turn away, focusing on making my way toward the bathroom, desperate for a momentary escape from the strange feelings within me.

The confines of the small restroom offer a brief respite from whatever that was. As I finish drying my hands on the thin, almost translucent towels, I step out of the strange folding door, only to collide with someone in the narrow hallway.

"Whoa, steady there," Spencer chuckles, reaching out to steady me by grabbing my shoulders though I regain my balance before his touch makes contact.

I offer him a grateful smile nonetheless. "Thanks, I'm alright," I reply, a hint of amusement in my voice, silently hoping he'll release his grip on my shoulders.

Spencer, still looking at me for a moment, eventually lets go, his grin still there. "Was the tea good?" he asks, tilting his head to the side curiously.

Rolling my shoulders slightly, trying to shake off the odd sensation of Spencer's touch, I nod. "Yeah, it was great, thanks," I reply with a smile, noticing how Spencer's grin widens.

His demeanor shifts as he glances over his shoulder before meeting my gaze with playfully widened eyes. "I think your boyfriend is mad at me for talking to you," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips, sending confusion fluttering through me. 

Looking past Spencer, I catch sight of Rick, his usually composed expression now hardened, his jaw clenched in a subtle display of displeasure as he stares unflinchingly at Spencer.

My eyebrows knit together in bewilderment at the sight. Even when Rick's glared at me before, he's never looked like that. The harsh intensity is unsettling.

Scoffing softly under my breath, I turn my attention back to Spencer, who is already watching me intently. "Rick is not my boyfriend. He's my work partner," I clarify, a laugh bubbling up my throat at the idea as Spencer's grin widens in response.

Leaning casually against the wall, Spencer tilts his head to the side, a curious glint in his eyes. "Ah, so you're single then?" he asks, a note of eagerness evident in his tone, his eyes alight with interest.

A nervous flutter dances in my stomach as I bite my lip, a soft smile tugging at the corners of my lips before I glance down momentarily, gathering my thoughts. "Well, yes, technically. But, um... I've just gotten out of a pretty rough relationship. So, I'm not really looking for anything at the moment," I explain, my voice tinged with awkwardness as I absentmindedly scratch my arm, feeling suddenly exposed under Spencer's inquisitive gaze.

Spencer nods understandingly, his gaze drifting downwards for a moment before returning to meet mine. "Ah, got it. That's understandable," he responds, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture of empathy.

Returning his nod with a quick smile, I pivot on my heel and make my way back to me and Rick's seats, already feeling more comfortable as I leave him behind. As I approach our row, I clear my throat softly, breaking through Rick's trance-like gaze fixed on Spencer, his brows furrowed in deep thought.

My presence seems to jolt Rick as he looks up at me. There's a flicker of surprise behind his eyes, quickly replaced by a softening at the sight of me.

My heart flutters involuntarily as I meet Rick's intense blue gaze, his features so captivatingly handsome. God, why does he have to be so fucking pretty? It makes hating him extremely difficult.

Without a word, Rick acknowledges my presence with a subtle nod, smoothly rising from his seat and closing the distance between us. As he steps closer to give me room to get in, a familiar scent from his shirt envelops me, a combination of soapy pine and something uniquely him, triggering a rush of memories from Saturday night. My stomach flips at the faded memories of his comfortable bed, reminding me of the undeniable attraction I feel toward him. And to think, I thought just smelling his cologne was overwhelming.

With a sharp inhale, I attempt to compose myself and continue on my way to my seat, brushing past Rick's shoulder. But before I can take another step, a sudden jolt of electricity courses through me as Rick's hand lightly settles on the small of my lower back, guiding me. His warm touch is gentle yet electrifying, sending shivers down my spine and igniting a flurry of sensations within me. My heart hammers wildly in my chest at the unexpected contact, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

Swallowing hard, I lower myself into my seat, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as I deliberately avoid meeting Rick's gaze. The lingering warmth of his touch on my skin feels like a brand, leaving an indelible mark even as he withdraws his hand. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, I can't shake the sensation of his touch, which continues to linger long after he's moved away.

Rick remains silent, his stoic demeanor unchanged as he takes his seat beside me. It's clear that he doesn't think much of the brief contact, oblivious to what it's done to me.

For the next remaining hour of the flight, I'm caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, unable to shake the lingering sensation of Rick's touch. It sparks a storm of desire and uncertainty within me as I grapple with the undeniable attraction that threatens to consume me. Despite my attempts to rationalize and suppress these feelings, they persist, relentlessly tugging at the edges of my consciousness.

God, get over it. He touched your back, stop acting like he stuck his tongue down your goddamn throat. I immediately regret thinking that, a flash of desire twisting through my abdomen simply picturing it. Oh, for fucks sake, stop.

As the plane finally touches down, the roughness of the landing serves as a jolting reminder of reality, momentarily snapping me out of my thoughts. Though I've always found takeoffs more unnerving than landings, the turbulence of the latter proves equally unsettling.

I keep my hands clenched at my sides, determined not to succumb to the fluttering nerves that threaten to turn me into a giggling schoolgirl simply because the boy I have a crush on might hold my hand.

Despite my efforts to maintain a semblance of distance, I can't help but notice that Rick's hand remains on the shared armrest between us as if silently offering it for me to grasp. Yet, I resist the temptation, steadfast in my resolve not to seek out further physical contact with him. I don't need to touch his hand again.

Thankfully, I don't dwell on it for long as we begin to deboard the plane. Rick and I set off for the car rental place in silence, the tension between us thinning with each step, to my relief. However, any semblance of normalcy is shattered when Spencer intercepts us near baggage claim, handing me his number scrawled hastily on a scrap of paper, causing that rift between me and Rick to swiftly return.

As we reach the rental car and I slide into the passenger seat, I steal a sideways glance at Rick, unable to shake off the emotions swirling within me.

I can't help but marvel at Rick's seemingly unshakable calm and collected demeanor. He touched my back like it meant nothing, having no idea that it sent me down a spiral of panic.

God, I'm pathetic.

As we pull out of the airport parking lot, I find myself lost in a labyrinth of conflicting feelings, unable to figure out Rick fucking Grimes.

_______

Rick's POV
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The sound of the rushing air from Cass's open window fills my ears, its ceaseless roar creating a backdrop to my racing thoughts as I clutch the steering wheel with a fierce determination, my knuckles straining against the pleather.

You need to get a fucking grip.

I let myself get worked up over something as stupid as her talking to a flight attendant, nearly cracking a molar in jealousy as he flirted with her outside the bathroom. Seeing her smiling softly, biting her lip as he said something to her had me almost reaching for the barf bag. And then, in a fit of irrational protectiveness, I had to go and touch her as if staking my claim on her. Like I have any right to do that.

Embarrassment flares through me, knowing she must have been so weirded out.

What the hell was I thinking?

My gaze remains fixed on the familiar stretch of highway as we leave Atlanta behind, the skyscrapers fading into the distance, swallowed by the vast expanse of rural Georgia unfolding before us.

Determined to regain control over my thoughts and emotions, I clench my jaw tightly and make a conscious effort to keep my eyes far away from Cass in the passenger seat. I refuse to give in to temptation and get myself caught in the trap of longing glances and unspoken desires that are slowly driving me insane.

The rental car hums steadily along the highway, its tires tracing the asphalt rhythmically. The silence between us grows suffocating, broken only by the occasional shift of Cass in her seat or the hum of the engine.

Then, unexpectedly, Cass releases a soft moan as she stretches, the sound cutting through me like a searing knife, igniting a primal response deep within the pit of my abdomen. It's maddening how effortlessly she dismantles my carefully constructed plans to get over this stubborn crush on her.

Desperate to regain control, I fix my gaze steadfastly on the road ahead, determined to drown out the tumult of emotions swirling inside me. But with Cass only inches away, her every movement and sound stirring something deep within me, I can't help but feel like I'm fighting a losing battle.

I already know this night is going to end with my hand wrapped around my cock in my room to attempt keep up with the way her presence affects me. God, I really need to get this under control.

Suddenly, Cass breaks the silence with a seemingly random question, and I have to fight the urge to choke with surprise at the unexpected interruption to my... thoughts.

"So, you don't live with Carl?" she asks, her voice pulling me out of my internal struggle, momentarily taking me aback.

I steal a quick glance at her, my breath catching in my throat after not seeing her for a while, my heart skipping at her intense eyes trained on me curiously. The urge to reach out and caress her cheek, to lose myself in the depths of those green eyes, threatens to overwhelm me. Realizing the danger of getting too distracted while driving, I tear my gaze away, refocusing on the road ahead, internally cursing myself.

"No," I manage to reply, my voice strained as I clear my throat, attempting to wrestle my thoughts back into submission. "He lives with his mother."

"Right," Cass breathes, sounding almost embarrassed, but I don't dare look at her to confirm it. "I saw him last week, he looks like you. A smaller, angrier you, which I didn't think was possible," she mutters, her words drawing a wry smirk from me. She's not wrong. As usual. But I'll never tell her that.

I release a breathy chuckle at her words. "That's Carl for you. He's been upset with me since the divorce and I can't blame him. Poor kid is only thirteen," I sigh, my brows furrowing in contemplation as I remember the strain of our relationship. And how bad I've let it get for his mother's benefit.

"Jesus Christ," Cass curses suddenly, her expletive punctuating the air as our car grinds to an abrupt halt, the once-flowing lanes of traffic now a solid mass of stationary vehicles stretching out like an impenetrable wall. My eyes widen at the sight, and the distant wail of sirens only serves to sink my heart further.

"Fuck. What do we do? We have the meeting with Carol in a few hours!" Cass exclaims, her voice breathless with what seems to be panic.

I finally let myself turn to her, taking in her concerned expression searching mine for answers. I suddenly get the strange urge to be the man she looks to for reassurance, to be her source of comfort.

But I quickly shake off the weird thought, refocusing my attention on the road ahead. Spotting the next exit, a glimmer of hope amidst the sea of stalled vehicles, I feel a surge of determination as I recognize the name.

"It's alright, I know a shortcut," I assure her, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Without hesitation, I veer off onto the shoulder, causing Cass to curse with surprise as our rental car bumbles over the rough terrain.

"Grimes! What the hell are you doing?" Cass demands with alarm, her grip tight on the handle above the door, her other hand clutching at the middle console for support.

A grin tugs at the corners of my lips at her reaction, a rush of exhilaration flooding through me as I navigate back onto the road and accelerate down the deserted exit, leaving the gridlocked traffic in our wake.

Before I can fully relish in our newfound freedom, I feel a sharp smack against my still-bruised arm, followed by a string of obscenities from Cass. Unable to contain my amusement, I chuckle softly, stealing a quick glance in her direction.

"That was illegal, you sociopath!" she exclaims, her chest heaving with adrenaline, her eyes still wide with shock.

As I make a right turn onto the narrow road that the exit leads to, my grin only widens. "But it got us away from the traffic, didn't it?" I retort, raising an eyebrow as I glance over at Cass. Her disbelief is palpable, her copper hair dancing around her shoulders in the rush of wind from the open window.

Cass shakes her head, her mouth parted as she scoffs at me. "I can't believe you. Do you have any idea where you're going? We don't have GPS in this piece of shit," she mutters, gesturing to the console of the car, her citrus scent mingling with the fresh air blowing in from her window.

"I know where we're going," I reply simply, my confidence unwavering as I navigate down the one-lane road. Towering trees flank us on either side, creating a comforting canopy of greenery that I haven't experienced in far too long.

"What? Does having balls somehow make you an expert on directions?" Cass retorts, glancing out at the dense foliage surrounding us. "There's probably a reason why no one else went this way or followed your dumb ass," she points out dryly, shaking her head as she looks out the window.

I can't help but smile in amusement at the mouth on her, keeping my focus on the road as I swerve gently around a decaying skunk carcass. "I used to live here. I know where I'm going," I assure her calmly, adjusting the AC slightly to combat the growing warmth in the car.

I sense Cass's eyes on me, and when I steal a glance, she's studying me intently, sending a flutter of nervous anticipation through my stomach.

"Ah, so the southern accent is from here," she breathes with amazement, a spark of excitement dancing in her eyes as she pieces it together.

There's something so captivating about her when she looks like that, the delight on her expression as she figures something out. God, she's beautiful.

Inhaling sharply, I focus forward, subtly readjusting my grip on the steering wheel in an attempt to mask the flutter of nerves that Cass's gaze ignites within me.

"Yeah, it's from here," I reluctantly admit, feeling a faint warmth creep into my cheeks as I guide us through the winding back road to Kings County.

"Who would've thought that big, scary Rick Grimes is really just a small-town country boy from Georgia?" Cass questions rhetorically, the smirk evident in her tone even without needing to confirm it with a glance.

I chuckle softly, not being able to help my chest warming at her calling me 'big' and 'scary'. When in reality, she terrifies me more than she'll ever know.

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter reluctantly, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips as I continue our drive. "Just shut up and let me drive," I add dryly, shooting her a mock-serious look that has her doing that thing where she purses her lips because she doesn't want me to know I make her smile.

"Why don't you shut up and keep your eyes on the road before you kill us both," Cass laughs, playfully nudging my jaw and guiding my face forward.

Ignoring the spark at her hand on my jaw, I roll my eyes, grinning as I do as she asks, taking us closer to our destination. Despite the initial tension, the blonde flight attendant hiccup, and the potential traffic disaster, this trip is turning out much better than I anticipated.

Maybe we could even become friends after this.

__________

(two hours later)

"You fucking idiot," Cass snaps furiously, her hands planted firmly on her hips, her eyes blazing with frustration.

I turn to her incredulously, the cooling evening air swirling around us, trees swaying behind Cass's aggravated form. "How on earth is this my fault?" I demand, my frustration matching hers as I gesture toward the massive rusted nail that got lodged into our tire, causing it to burst and rendering our car undrivable.

We're stranded off the side of the road, miles away from where we first pulled off the highway. Cicadas are buzzing in the distance as the sun sinks past the horizon, painting the sky dusty purple.

"'How is this your fault'? Oh, I don't know, maybe because we should already be in Kings County by now? We're in the middle of nowhere. You got us lost!" Cass shouts, her fierce green eyes burning into mine, her copper hair whipping off her shoulder as she gestures animatedly. "We already had to call Carol to reschedule an hour ago because you wouldn't listen to me when I told you we were lost!" She argues, her eyes wild.

Cass's words hit me like a punch to the gut, her frustration tangible, turning into a sour taste in my mouth. I let out a sharp exhale. "You're right, we should be there. I swear we were going the right way but arguing like this ain't going to do anything to solve it," I sigh, feeling the weight of my mistake settle heavily on my shoulders.

Has it really been that long that I'm forgetting now?

With a sigh, Cass grabs her phone from her pocket, the soft glow of the touchscreen casting a gentle light on her features in the waning light, accentuating the uncertainty that now shadows her typically confident expression. Focused and determined, she taps away at the screen, her brows furrowing in concentration.

"Alright, I don't have enough signal to make a call, but apparently there's a bed and breakfast just down the road. We should go there so we can call a tow truck," Cass decides, her voice tinged with resignation as she turns back to me, her eyes searching mine, no emotion behind them.

I meet her gaze, a pang of disappointment gnawing at my chest as I recognize the rift growing between us again. With a slow exhale, I nod in agreement, my hand on my belt. "Sounds like a plan," I decide, my jaw tight. Cass nods, wrenching open the door of the rental, and grabbing her purse.

Despite Cass's protests, I take both our suitcases in either hand, determined to alleviate her burden as we embark on the trek down the weathered and cracked asphalt of the old Georgian road. The humid embrace of the early evening air envelops me like a thick blanket, a sensation of warmth and familiarity that I've sorely missed.

It's a stark contrast to the biting chill of New York, the softness of Georgia a stark departure from the harshness of the city.

As we walk in near silence, the only sound being our footsteps echoing against the quiet backdrop of the countryside, I catch sight of fireflies dancing among the dark green foliage that surrounds us, joining the growing amount of bugs in the air.

After what feels like an eternity, we reach the small dirt road that takes us to the BnB. We reach the top of the narrow willow tree-lined road, and as we turn down it, my brows raise. At the end is a two-story farmhouse-style structure painted in a striking shade of pink that catches the fading sunlight.

My attention is drawn to the sign perched at the top of the road, mirroring the building's color scheme with its pink background and cheerful yellow lettering that proudly declares,

"𝒯𝒽𝑒  𝒩𝑒𝓌𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓈  𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒  𝐵𝓊𝓃𝑔𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓌  𝒶𝓃𝒹  𝒫𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽  𝒢𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓈"

Pausing to look at the sign, I turn to Cass with dryly raised eyebrows. She simply tilts her head with annoyance in response. "Just come on," she sighs warily, heading down the gravel path.

With a nod, I grab our bags and follow Cass, uncertainty bubbling within me as we head towards our temporary refuge at the Newmans' Love Bungalow and Peach Gardens.

__________

"Welcome in!" The older lady's warm greeting meets Cass and I the moment we step through the front door, accompanied by the cheerful ding of the bell. Cass and I exchange wary glances, momentarily taken aback by the overwhelming sensory onslaught of the maximally decorated bed and breakfast that surrounds us as we approach the woman at the front desk.

The space is filled to the brim with paintings, slightly off-putting animal sculptures, and fake plants, creating a cluttered and stifling floral-scented atmosphere that makes it hard to catch a breath.

"Hi ma'am," Cass begins, stepping up to the crowded front desk with a polite smile, "our tire blew out just down the road. Could we please use your phone to call for a tow truck?" she asks hopefully, leaning against the counter.

Inhaling sharply and tearing my eyes from the way Cass bends over the counter, I watch as the woman's expression softens with sympathy. "Oh, hon, bad news. The tow truck closes at 5, and it's now 6:17," she says delicately, her hand patting Cass's arm reassuringly.

Cass turns to me, her eyes widening in concern, mirroring the sinking feeling that settles like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach. Shit.

With a grimace, I carefully set down our suitcases and approach the counter. "Ma'am," I start with concern, "are you sure there's nothing we can do? We need to be in Kings County tonight." I tell her desperately, searching her heavily made-up features.

Betty, as her hand-made nametag says, raises her penciled-on eyebrows in surprise at my request, then erupts into a giggle that catches me off guard. "Oh, son, Kings County is hours away! You're not gettin' there tonight," she informs me, her tone laced with amusement as she tilts her head sympathetically.

Cass slowly turns to face me, her mouth pressed in an unassisted flat line. "Huh. Imagine that," she mutters dryly, accompanied by a subtle eye roll before turning back to the woman. "Looks like he did get us lost," she informs Betty sarcastically, earning another giggle from her.

"My husband does the same thing! He's as stubborn as an ass," Betty chimes in, giggling along with Cass, whose laughter is tinged with far more bitterness.

"Oh, trust me, Betty, I know what that's like," Cass chuckles, before turning to send me a look, her eyes narrowed. I simply sigh, tilting my head at her tiredly.

"Well, darlin', I'd be delighted to offer y'all a room! You two are just too precious to be left to sleep in that crappy motel down the road!" Betty remarks warmly, her Southern drawl adding a comforting touch to her words, causing Cass to turn to her with a wide grin.

"Would that be possible? It seems like you're busy," Cass comments, her eyes darting to the full parking lot and the lively atmosphere of the nearby living room.

Betty's face lights up as she retrieves the last key from the wall. "Well now, darlin', we might be as full as a tick on a hound, but there's always room for a couple as charming as yourselves!" she exclaims with genuine warmth, extending the key towards us with a hospitable flourish.

Brushing past her calling us a couple, I shake my head, confusion whirling in my mind. "Sorry- just one room?" I inquire, furrowing my brows in mild concern. Betty glances up, momentarily puzzled.

"Yeah sugar, that's all we have left. That alright?" Betty asks, her bright blue eyes flickering between us with mild confusion, tucking some of her dark grey hair behind her ear.

Cass and I exchange a quick glance, silently agreeing that it's better than spending the night outdoors.

"Not a problem at all," Cass reassures with a relaxed smile, reaching out to accept the key.

"Oh," Betty interjects, still holding onto the key as she studies us intently. "You two are married, ain't you? Because as a good Christian woman myself, I can't rightly condone y'all sharin' a bed otherwise," she adds with a hint of propriety, looking between us expectantly.

Cass, her hand still extended, shoots me a wide-eyed look. Before she can blow it, I flash a confident grin and turn to Betty.

"Absolutely, ma'am. We're newlyweds, actually. Just started our honeymoon," I smoothly reply, leaning casually against the counter as I turn on the charm, eliciting an excited grin from Betty.

"Oh, how precious!" Betty exclaims, practically beaming as she looks back and forth between us, her excitement palpable. Then, her gaze falls on Cass's hand reaching out for the key. "Where's your ring, sweetheart?" she asks, a touch of confusion in her expression as she scrutinizes us.

"That's all him, he got my size wrong, can you believe that?" Cass chimes in with wide-eyed innocence, clicking her tongue with disapproval, "You said it Betty, asses," she adds with a gritted teeth smile, patting my back a tad bit harsher than she needs to.

Getting jostled forward, I let out a light laugh to brush it off, exhaling slowly as I look away, immediately regretting it as I come face to face with a stuffed deer head.

Jesus.

Quickly looking away, I watch as Betty laughs, shaking her head as she types into their large computer easily from the 20th century. "Names?" she asks, her fingers poised over the keyboard.

"Richard and Cassandra Grimes," I quickly provide, purposefully avoiding Cass's gaze as my heart skips a beat at the thought of sharing a last name with her.

"Alright, Mr. and Mrs. Grimes, follow me!" Betty tells us warmly, waddling out from behind the front desk, revealing her bright teal and denim outfit straight from the early 90's.

She walks up to Cass, looking much shorter in comparison as she pokes her side excitedly. "I bet its just so fun hearin' you be called Grimes, huh? You'll get used to it," she beams, patting Cass's back and guiding her to the creaky stairs before I can see Cass's expression.

Pushing through the weirdness and scaling the narrow staircase with both suitcases, I follow the women into the room to the right of the stairs.

As I walk in, I suppress a choke of surprise, trying to maintain composure at the sight of the horrifying number of porcelain dolls arranged around the room. They span the walls, the dresser, the window sill, the floor, and the bed. Their creepy beady eyes seem to track my every move as I set down our suitcases.

"O-Oh..." Cass breathes out softly as she steps inside, delicately placing her purse on the floral comforter, her eyes widening in a mix of surprise and apprehension as she looks at the creepy room. Beyond the countless dolls is nauseatingly floral wallpaper and frilly curtains, really making it feel straight out of a horror movie.

"I know," Betty begins with a sigh, surveying the room, her blue eyes twinkling. "It's just lovely in here. One of my personal favorites," she beams, turning to us with genuine enthusiasm.

As Betty's attention shifts away, I force a tight smile for her, struggling to contain my discomfort. "And I'm the sociopath," I mutter under my breath to Cass, who stifles a snort behind a cough.

"New guests?" a male voice questions from the doorway, making me turn expectantly. Standing there is a man around Betty's age in a red flannel, holding a horrifyingly bloody axe. My eyes widen, praying that it's animal blood from the farm I saw on the property.

"Dave, this are the Grimes, they just got married!" Betty enthuses excitedly, her voice bubbling with infectious energy as she gestures towards Cass and me, the 'newlyweds', as we wave weakly at the man.

We're going to die in this fucking place.

"Ah, salutations to you both," the older man nods at us, his weathered face betraying a hint of amusement as he casually rests his axe on his shoulder. "How about a kiss? It's good luck on your honeymoon!" he beams with a smile that sends a shiver down my spine, the glint of the blade catching the dim light of the room.

"I-Is it?" I question, my voice wavering slightly as I tilt my head to the side, forcing a light laugh that sounds hollow in my ears, desperately hoping they don't actually expect us to kiss.

Dave's expression tightens slightly as he looks at me, the weight of his gaze slicing through me sharper than the edge of his axe. "You don't want to kiss your wife, son?" he asks sharply, hearing Cass be referred to as my wife making my stomach twist uncomfortably, compounded by the unsettling glare from the axe-wielding man.

My mouth parts, scrambling for an excuse, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. Every beat of my heart seems amplified, resonating in the silence of the room, adding to the tension coiling within me.

"Oh, kids these days are so shy! Come on!" Betty encourages us, her enthusiasm adding to my growing anxiety, her words a gentle push towards a tradition that feels increasingly out of place.

Reluctantly, I turn to face Cass, adrenaline prickling through my veins. Her expression mirrors my own inner turmoil, a subtle cringe evident as her eyes briefly flit to mine.

I know she must be horrified. She's the absolute last person to want to kiss me.

I just stare at her blankly, unable to articulate the maelstrom of emotions swirling within me. Obviously, I want to kiss Cass, but not like this. My heart thunders in my chest, each thump reverberating in my ears, worsening my growing panic.

Cass just gives me a subtle look of approval, knowing that it's the only way to get the chanting elderly people out of our creepy room.

Meanwhile all I can think is not like this.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Our first kiss wasn't meant to happen in a room covered with creepy dolls with elderly onlookers.

But despite the unsettling setting, an undeniable pull draws me towards Cass, like the irresistible force of gravity, knowing I just need to get it over with. With every inch closer, my heart beats louder, a relentless rhythm driving me forward, drowning out everything else, leaving just Cass.

Thump.

Cass stares back at me with her beautiful green eyes, mirroring the shock and uncertainty coursing through my veins.

And then,

Thump.

I lean in.

Thump.

Closer and closer, I inch toward her, feeling the warmth of her breath against my skin as our proximity increases.

Thump.

My eyes roam over her annoyingly attractive features that took me from the start as she blinks up at me. My gaze darts to the soft curve of her lips as she parts her mouth, her secretly freckled cheeks slightly flushed.

Thump.

My trembling hand reaches out, gently caressing Cass's cheek, eliciting a flutter of her eyelids as she responds to my touch.

Thump.

With bracing breath, I swiftly close the remaining distance between us,

and our lips meet.

_________

A/N: oh the silly little things I have up my sleeve heheheheh