by Lori L. Otto
“Your license.”
“Am I driving somewhere? Because, Jack, I don’t like to drive. I barely remember how, it’s been so long.”
“No, you won’t have to drive.”
“Will I be getting carded somewhere?”
“I believe it’s happened before. Especially if you choose to wear your hair in those two little ponytails... which, by the way, you’re more than welcome to do.” I roll my eyes at the soft “mmmm” I hear through the phone.
“What is it with guys and pigtails?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Come on. Get up and get ready! Do your hair however you like,” he concedes. “Just be ready by two. Can you do that?”
“Yep. Getting up now. Comfy. Jacket. License. Two. Is that all I need to remember?”
“You forgot pigtails,” he says seriously.
“Really?”
“I’m just kidding. But you know they drive me crazy. I guess it’s really up to you whether or not you want to drive me crazy today.”
“I guess you’ll know when you pick me up. I don’t know that I’m feeling pigtails today.”
“It’s fine, Emi. I can tell you’re procrastinating now.”
“I’m up, I’m up!”
“No, she’s not up!” Jen yells from a few feet away. I glare as she giggles.
“Get up, please? I’ll be there in two hours.”
“Bye,” I groan, stretching in the bed. A wide grin spans across my face. Of course I want to drive him crazy today!
“So what are you doing today?” my sister asks.
“I still have no idea.”
“That would drive me nuts... do you ever get to pick what you two do? It always seems like he’s making all the plans.”
“He does make most of them. I guess I have veto power... but he’s never had a bad idea,” I shrug. “Thanks for letting me sleep in, by the way. I didn’t hear you and Clara at all this morning.”
“I’m surprised, she was a little fussy getting ready. I did bribe her with doughnuts, though. That seemed to do the trick.”
“Doughnuts?”
“There’s a glazed one in the kitchen for you.”
“I’m up,” I smile, bounding out of bed for a breakfast treat I rarely let myself indulge in. Not a bad way to start the day.
I take my time getting ready, lingering at the closet for a good ten minutes before picking out a couple of different outfits to try on. I nix the skirt right off the bat after Jen points out an unsightly bruise just above my knee. Jeans it is. I flip-flop between a sweater or layered t-shirts. Sweater is more practical... layered t-shirts are infinitely cuter. Easy decision there.
“Are you sure you and Jack are just friends?” my sister asks me.
“Yep,” I tell her as I pull on my shirt, my back to her to hide the blush I feel on my cheeks. “Why?”
“You’ve been with him nearly every day. And you’re being a lot more choosey in what you’re wearing for him today.”
“He’s fun to hang out with. And I’m not dressing for him. I just feel better about myself when I look decent.”
She’s smiling when I turn to face her. “I’m happy to see my sister coming back into her own. I’ve missed you, Em.”
I slip on a pair of sneakers, still looking at the heels out of the corner of my eye.
“Heels,” Jen suggests.
“He said to dress comfortably. What if we’re hiking or something?”
“I would think hiking would be a good recreation for you to exercise your veto power, Miss I-Don’t-Like-To-Sweat-and-I-Don’t-Like-Bugs.”
“True,” I ponder. I wouldn’t, though. He’s been so excited about whatever we’re doing... I’d sacrifice a little sweat and a few bug bites for him.
I keep the tennis shoes on, but decide to let him tell me which ones would be better based on our activity.
I curl my hair before pulling it into two low ponytails at the nape of my neck and smile to myself in the mirror. I put on a little lip gloss and press my lips together, anxious to feel his on mine. I kill time while I wait for him by picking up the apartment.
Jen answers the door when he arrives.
“Jennifer,” he greets her with a hug. He’s wearing his dark jeans that fit him perfectly in all the right places and an untucked light blue shirt. God, what that color does to his eyes. Beautiful.
“Hey, Jack. In case she doesn’t tell you, she hates hiking.”
“Jen!” I scold her. “I don’t hate it...” I’m not convincing.
“We aren’t going hiking, don’t worry.” He smiles slyly, and I imagine he’s taken note of my hair. I can’t help but smile back.
“Can I wear heels?” I ask, picking up the other option.
“There may be a fair amount of walking involved. I would probably keep the tennis shoes.” I notice he’s wearing some, and he rarely does, so I keep mine on.
“Got it. I’m ready,” I say, grabbing my purse.
“What were the four things?” he asks me.
“Comfy. License,” I hold up my bag. “Two... oh, right.” I return to my closet and pull out a lightweight belted jacket and pull it on. “Now I’m ready.”
“Alright. Let’s go. Bye, Jen.”
“Bye, Jen,” I tell my sister, hugging her. “See you tonight.”
“Umm...” Jack begins. “Yes, see you later.”
He waits until we get into his car before he pulls my head to his by my pigtails and kisses me. “That’s what I like about them.”
“Ahhh...” I say. “Good to know.”
We drive through Queens outside the city. “This is an airport exit only,” I caution him.
“Is it?” he asks, continuing to drive straight ahead.
“Okay, now what’s going on?”
“We are going to the airport,” he states.
“I figured that out. Why are we going to the airport?”
“To listen to some music.”
“At the airport?”
“Of course not at the airport, silly. We’re flying somewhere to listen to some music.”
“Jack,” I say, concerned. “I didn’t pack anything.”
“You have everything you need. We won’t exactly be staying overnight.”
“What do you mean, ‘won’t exactly?’”
“I mean we’re going to a concert tonight, and we have an early morning flight... no hotels, Lord knows I couldn’t be trusted in a hotel room with you...”
“Jack,” I blush. “Whose concert?”
“I’ve told you too much already.”
“Will you at least tell me what city?”
“Chicago. Have you ever been?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have,” I tell him as he parks his car. Teresa and I had gone to a magazine convention there a few years ago. “So we’re pulling an all-nighter, essentially,” I state.
“We are.” He takes his leather jacket out of the backseat and puts it on. “So I hope you’re rested.”
“Sweet!” I squeal. “How fun!!”
“I’m glad you’re excited,” he says, pulling me into a hug. A concerned look spreads across his face as he takes the fabric of my jacket in his hands.
“That’s the best you could do?” he asks.
“What?”
“This jacket is paper-thin.”
“It’s fine, I have long sleeves on,” I argue. “This jacket makes this outfit. Admit it.”
He laughs to himself, running his fingers through his hair, considering my clothes. “But there’s supposed to be a cold front coming through tonight. You’re going to freeze.”
I just shrug, uncaring. “Guess you’ll have to let me wear yours.”
He sighs heavily, then kisses me deeply, toying with my hair again.
“Or you could just do that,” I whisper to him. “That works.” He leans me against his car and does it again, this time his hands leave my hair and travel down my body, gripping me tightly just below my breasts.
“I can
’t wait to be alone with you again, Emi.” He kisses my neck. “I can’t stop thinking about you, about those nights at your loft. You have the most amazing body, did you know that?”
“No,” I blush. “So you just want my body, huh?” I ask sarcastically.
“God, no, Emi,” he says, serious. “I want all of you. I love everything about you.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. “You’re not too bad yourself.” I want to swallow the words back in no sooner than they left my lips. Just tell him you love him!
“Let’s go,” he says, taking my hand and walking a pace in front of me, leading me into the airport.
Once we get to our terminal, he goes to one of the shops to get something to drink. I consider getting out my phone and checking to see who is in concert tonight in Chicago, but I decide to let it be a surprise.
Jack comes back with two sodas and a plastic bag.
“Whatcha got?” I ask.
“Hold these,” he says, handing me the drinks. He pulls out a red knitted cap with the I heart NY logo on it and pulls it over my head, tucking my bangs to the side. “And...” He holds up a black zippered hoodie with a matching logo on it to me. “Here.”
“I’m not wearing that,” I laugh.
“It’s the best one they had, I swear.”
“I don’t care. It’s about ten sizes too big.”
“Ten? Don’t offend me. It fits me.”
“Well, then, you can wear it...” I tell him, shrugging.
“You are so impractical and stubborn sometimes!” he says, frustrated. “You’ll change your mind.”
“I don’t think I will... but thanks for the hat. It’s cute.”
“You’re cute in it. Just let me know when you get cold.”
“Never,” I smile defiantly. He puts his arm around my shoulders as we find a seat in the terminal.
Halfway through the flight to Chicago, I attempt to discreetly get the sweatshirt out of the bag that Jack put under our first-class seats. He had scoffed at me when we first sat down after I asked him if this was the most expensive date he’d ever taken a girl on. I mean first class? Flying to another city to see a concert? Really?
“Let me help pay you back a little,” I had offered.
“I’m sure we can work out a trade of sorts,” he said suggestively, making me blush.
He gives me a smug look as I unzip the jacket and lay it across my chest. “Shut up,” I murmur. I tuck my knees into my chest and cover them up as well.
“I didn’t say anything,” he says.
“Thank you,” I tell him quietly. He takes his seatbelt off, pushes the arm rest up and scoots closer to me, rubbing my arms vigorously to warm me up. As I look at him to smile, his face inches closer, teasing me. My heart begins to pound in my chest as I anticipate his kiss. He licks his lips and closes his eyes at the very last second. I pull his hand underneath the sweatshirt and place it on my breast. He inhales quickly, and I can feel his lips form a smile.
“Emi,” he whispers, taking my breast into his hand and massaging. “Someone might see us.”
“I know,” I quietly say back to him, lingering on the last word with a sigh. He moans softly into my mouth, his hand applying more pressure. I adjust my hand beneath the jacket deliberately, drawing his attention to it. I move it down my knee, down my thigh, into my lap. His other hand dips under the garment to feel where mine has gone. This time he groans, taking my hand into his.
“Stop, please,” he begs. “God, what has gotten into you?”
“I’m not sure,” I tell him. “We’re taking this trip together... you look amazing tonight... I get to spend the night with you... we’re alone.”
“We are not alone,” he reminds me. “The flight is full.”
“But we don’t know these people,” I say. “Who cares?”
“I care,” he tells me. “I care because I know I can’t have you tonight, and you’re making me want you even more than I already did before we got on this crowded, claustrophobic, cage-of-an-airplane.” He moves my hand from my lap and replaces it with his. “God, Emi. Stop me, please?” The lustful look has returned to his eyes, and I realize I’m pushing him too far. I entwine my fingers with his, holding his hand close to my stomach.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” I tell him. He closes his eyes again, pulls my head to his with his free hand, and kisses me sensually.
“No, I’m sorry,” he says. “I can usually control myself better than this. It’s got to be your hair.” He shifts back over to his chair and fastens his seatbelt, letting go of my hand. He’s quiet as his breathing returns to normal. I rest my head on my knees, looking at him.
“We’re going to see the Decemberists,” he says, not meeting my bedroom eyes as I try to distract him again.
“Really?” I grab onto his arm, shaking it. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” he laughs. “Is that good?”
“I love them! Did you know I love them?”
“You had their entire discography on your iPod, so I had a feeling you did. This theater they’re performing at is supposed to have great acoustics... it was sold out, you know.”
“But you got tickets...”
“Of course I did. All I could get was a suite, actually... which right now, I’m thinking, is not such a good idea.”
“Well,” I tell him. “It will be hard to get my attention away from them. I’ve always wanted to see them... and honestly, most of their music is not... how should I put it... romantic?”
“Okay, that’s good. I was afraid this was going to turn into a very long night for both of us.”
“Oh, there’s still time,” I tease him. He rolls his eyes and laughs.
I didn’t think he’d be able to pry me away from the band, and he wasn’t. He didn’t have to. From the moment the lights went down, I just wanted to be near him, to hold him, to kiss him. In the middle of the second song, we retreated to the couch in the private suite and stayed there until the concert was over and all the fans had piled out. We kissed intensely and touched each other innocently– most of the time.
“I think you got me here under false pretenses,” I tease him as we’re leaving the auditorium. “You said there was going to be a concert tonight. You just wanted to lure me into a private room so we could make out.”
“If only I was that cunning,” he says. “Hey, Emi,” he adds.
“Yeah?”
“I hear they’re playing an encore at that hotel down the street.”
I giggle as we wait on the sidewalk for a cab. The cold front is moving in, and I shiver at the burst of wind that hits me. He angles me toward him and pulls down on my cap, straightening out my pigtails. He then zips up the huge jacket and pulls the hood over my head. I push it back down, not wanting to hide my hair, my secret weapon, the thing that drives him crazy... and I like it when he’s crazy with desire for me.
“So this is supposed to be the best diner in the city,” Jack says when we’re seated in our booth. We sit across from each other, but lean in closely, holding hands across the table.
“What can I get you two to drink?” the waitress asks.
Jack looks at me for my order. “Just a hot tea for me.”
“Make it two. And a couple glasses of water.”
“Coming right up.”
“So, what time is our flight home?” I ask.
“Five AM. I figure we should head to the airport around three. That gives us about four hours to kill.”
“Hmmm,” I say flirtatiously, “what shall we do?”
“Eat,” he tells me. “Do you like to bowl?”
“I love to. Why?”
“There’s an all-night bowling alley down the street.”
“Cool!” I say, smiling. “I’ll smoke your ass in bowling.”
“I’d watch it, Miss Hennigan. I’m pretty good.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Mr. Holland.” I stick my tongue out at him as the waitress brings our drinks.
“I’d just like a bowl of fruit,” I order.
“Seriously? We’ve come to the best greasy spoon in town and you’re getting fruit?”
“What?” I shrug. “Okay, and a side of bacon.”
He laughs at my request. “I’ll have the number three, please.”
“Got it,” our waitress says, gathering our menus.
“What’s the number three?” I ask him, curious.
“Pancakes, eggs and bacon. It comes highly recommended.”
“Pancakes?”
“Mmm-hmm... you can have some.”
“Maybe just a bite,” I answer.
“So, what does your family do for Christmas?” he asks me after a short lull in the conversation.
“Nothing outlandish. We split the holidays... Thanksgiving at one parent’s house, Christmas at the other’s.”
“So you’re at your Mom’s?”
“Yep,” I answer. “What do you normally do?”
“Typically, I’ll celebrate with Kelly and her family, but this year, they’re going to Thomas’s parents house. My parents are pushing for me to visit them, but I’m not sure I want to go to Wyoming. I thought about flying them out, but since they left New Jersey, they really have no desire to come back. They like the country life.”
“What about your brothers?”
“We just can’t seem to coordinate our schedules. I thought Matty and Lucas might come, but they just decided to go to Hawaii instead. I’d choose Hawaii, too.”
“Why don’t you go?”
“I don’t know,” he hedges. “I thought I might like to spend some time with you instead. Do you think you could fit me in sometime?”
How awesome that he wants to spend Christmas with me. My thoughts wander to us, sitting by a tree next to the fireplace at his house, colorful Christmas bulbs providing the only additional light in the room. In my vision, we’re both undressed and exhausted, wrapped in a warm blanket. I wonder if I will be ready by then, hope that I will be. I feel like I might be right now. “Of course.”
“Good,” he says. “I’ll work around your schedule. You just let me know.” I nod as our food arrives. I immediately wish I had ordered the pancakes. I look up at Jack with pleading eyes. He douses them in syrup and takes a bite, smiling wickedly at me.
