“Found it.” Jax laughs. “Another mystery solved.”
I’m humiliated but I still laugh. You kinda have to in a moment like this.
The last of my clothes get hastily slipped on. I shove my feet in my shoes and step out, relieved to see that there’s no longer a car parked in the space next to us. Making eye contact with people who may or may not have seen our scandalous behavior is one less thing to worry about.
Jax steps from the car two minutes later, runs over to the garbage can, and returns.
“Well?” he says.
“Well what?” I ask, amused yet confused.
“Is the date back on?”
“Oh God.” I laugh into my hands and nod. “Yes, the date is definitely back on.”
A Bloomin’ Relationship
“When I said yes to the date, I didn’t think you meant before we even got home.” Paisley butters a piece of brown bread. Her hair is still tousled and wild from our crazed car romp. She’s beautiful and I can’t stop staring.
As we got closer to home, I knew where to locate an Outback. Also, I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
“I guess forty-eight straight hours with you just wasn’t enough.” I raise my brows and pull off a piece of the famous Bloomin’ Onion.
“How crazy is it that we only met two days ago?”
“It’s crazy, but what’s even crazier is our schedules.” In the car we realized planning for a date night was a lot harder than expected. I work days and she works a lot of nights. Saturday is almost always part of my schedule and Sunday a part of hers. There’s approximately forty-five minutes between our homes, but we came up with at least five different restaurants and a movie theater with luxury seating on route 18 that would make a good halfway point to meet at if pressed for time after one of her late shifts. Whatever it takes, I’m willing to try and make this work. If we can survive the whiskey dick incident—gonna go with that, it sounds better than antihistamine dick—I think we can handle just about anything.
“Where the hell have you been?” There’s a gust of wind as I’m slammed into and pushed over. “Can you move over, geez, I’m trying to sit.” My sister. Crashing my date. Are you shitting me? I may have spoken too soon.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask, my sister already helping herself to our appetizer and reaching for my drink to wash it down.
“I track you through your phone,” she says, holding her hands up in an astonished gesture, as if I’m stupid and should know that she stalks my every move. “Hey, I’m Remi. You must be Paisley. Nice hair.”
Paisley automatically begins to smooth her hands over the sexy muss, turning cherry red.
“Why are you here, Remi?”
I love my sister. I do. But sometimes she’s a fucking pain in the ass.
“You guys sure did make a lot of stops along the way.” She bites into her fried onion and double dips. “Are you guys like a thing now? Where’s the waiter? I need a drink.” Her head spins in search of someone to come take her order.
“I need to run to the ladies’ room, I’ll be right back.” Paisley stands up, excusing herself from the table.
“Was it something I said?” Remi chuckles. “Pfft. She’s so sensitive. We can’t date someone who’s like that. Did you ever have the cucumber vodka drink here? Is it any good?”
“We’re not dating her, I am. No drinks. You need to leave.” I give her a nudge, encouraging her to get up from the booth. “Seriously, go now.”
“Fine. Geez. I’ll go. I have stuff to talk to you about but I guess it can wait until you get home.” She grabs another piece of onion and loads it up with the dipping sauce, dripping it all over the table. “You should get that cucumber drink, it sounds delish.”
“I’m not ordering any drinks.” I move the onion out of her reach ’cause I know if I don’t, I’ll never get rid of her. “Oh and why the hell did you give me an antihistamine to take?”
“An antihistamine?” She laughs. “Is that what that was?”
“You don’t even know what you gave me?”
“I know it makes me sleepy. So I figured it would help relax you. I don’t know.” She shrugs. “You shouldn’t take other people meds.”
“Yeah, I know that now.” Believe me, I will never make that mistake again. “You need to go. Whatever it is you want to talk about, we can discuss tomorrow. I’ll stop by Mom and Dad’s and we can talk then.”
“Or… we can talk tonight at your house.” She slides out of the booth. “Because I kind of live there now. I moved my stuff in while you were gone. Bye. Have fun with your oversensitive date with the sex hair.” She tucks her purse under her arm and runs off before I can say anything.
My sister moved herself into my house?
No. Please no.
Maybe I do need to order that vodka drink.
We both stare out the windshield at the quaint Cape-style home. The curtain in the front window moves. We’re being watched by his new roommate. The evil twin, Remi. I must admit, so far I’m not that big of a fan. I was very glad to see she was gone when I returned from the bathroom.
“I’d invite you in, but….” He exhales, waving a hand at his occupied house.
“It’s okay, I really need to get home anyway.” I would have loved to go inside. But oh well. I’ll be seeing him again soon. We were able to figure out a date that works for both of us.
“Are you okay with returning the car?”
“Yeah, the drop-off is right by my apartment and Karie will come pick me up.”
“Cool, cool.” He rubs his hands down the front of his pants. Awkward goodbye. Here it comes.
“What a long strange trip it’s been,” I say, and cringe. That was stupid.
“I wouldn’t change a thing.” He grimaces, shaking his head. “Actually, scratch that. There are a few things I’d change.”
Our laughter cuts the tension.
“It was fun.” I rub a finger along the steering wheel. So, like, do we kiss? Shake hands? How do we end this? He reaches into the back seat for his bag. This is it, the end of our road trip.
“Goodbye.” He leans in for a kiss.
I know it should be quick with his sister watching, but I can’t help it. I bring my hands to his face, running my fingertips over his beard. It’s me who takes it from a closed-mouth kiss to an openmouthed goodbye. His tongue. My tongue. French kissing at its finest. I press my thighs together and pull away. Nah-uh. No way am I starting something that cannot be finished. I had enough of that these past two days.
“Our next date can’t come soon enough,” he laments, and I’m sure he’s mentally cursing his sister as much as I am right now. “It feels like forever until I’m going to see you again.”
Next Tuesday does seem years away.
“Maybe we should plan another road trip,” I say jokingly, turning my head to smile at him.
“We could.” He raises his brows. “Howie’s wedding. I do need a date. What do you say?”
“Okay,” I reply quickly.
Am I crazy to accept this invitation after everything we just went through? Absolutely. But I like this guy. A lot.
“Really? You will? Yes!” His lips press up against mine again as if to seal the deal with a quick kiss.
“But I have two conditions.” I push away and hold up two fingers. “One, no pills, and two, we conquer our fear and fly.”
“Done.”
Fly Me to the Swoon
“Keep your eyes on the flight attendants,” I say. “They say if they look scared, then that’s a sign something’s wrong.” We both gawk at the flight attendants buckled into their small seats. No traces of fear or panic. If anything, they look bored.
The speed of the Boeing increases and our hands couldn’t be clasped tighter as the plane lifts off the ground. We’ll be lucky to survive the flight without fractured fingers. I have to remind myself to breathe, and once I exhale I also remind Paisley that oxygen is needed. She releases her breath but the look of fear is still frozen on
her face.
Six weeks ago we met. Five weeks ago we did dinner and a movie followed by hours of conversation. Four weeks ago I took her to the Statue of Liberty because she had never been. We ate hot pretzels with mustard and kissed on top of the Empire State Building. Three weeks ago I handed my phone over and she deleted and blocked several old friends from my contacts. Two weeks ago I finally got Remi to move back to my parents’ place. Paisley took a personal day and we spent two days straight tangled up in my sheets. One week ago Remi moved back in with me. I drank a lot at dinner that night and spent my first night at Paisley’s apartment. And now here we are. She doesn’t know it yet but I’m in love with her.
“Are you okay?” I ask. We’re both scared, but Paisley looks terrified. She’s had the same look of terror plastered on her face since I picked her up this morning.
“Huh?” She blinks and I think it’s the first time she has since takeoff.
“You heard the pilot, he said it’s a smooth flight and we should be landing ahead of schedule.” I say it like it’s a good thing but I’m not really sure what that means, “ahead of schedule.” Does it mean he’s flying the plane faster than he originally intended? Because if so, that makes me very nervous. But for Paisley’s sake I’m gonna pretend that it doesn’t.
“I’m fine,” she says. The wheels lift back into the plane and it’s the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard for us. Freddy Kreuger’s nails. “I’m not fine.” She takes it back. “Oh God, Jax. I don’t want to do this.”
“Shhh,” I say calmly, like I mean for it to reassure her, but honestly I mean it like shhh, you’re freaking me out, shut up.
What feels like hours but is actually minutes later, the fasten seat belt sign turns off. Two flight attendants stand at the head of the aisle ready to serve drinks. I use the hand not fused to Paisley’s and grab the magazine that has the menu items available to purchase. I know this is a short flight but please, please, let there be booze.
“What are you reading?” Paisley doesn’t let go of my other hand even though she can see that flipping pages with only one hand is difficult.
“Yes!” I exclaim. “They offer a selection of wine and beer.” It’s funny how in the air, eight bucks for a small glass of wine seems like chump change.
“Thank freaking God.” Paisley exhales. “How many can we order? Probably not a lot. Hmm?” She turns to the stranger in the window seat of our row. “Are you ordering anything to drink?”
“Maybe just a coffee,” the woman answers.
“Okay, good.” She leans into my ear and whispers, “When you order the wine, pretend we’re also ordering one for her.”
My crafty, clever, resourceful girlfriend. The words I love you are at the tip of my tongue.
“You’re brilliant,” I say instead.
“Maybe flying isn’t that bad after all.” Jax shrugs, finishing what’s left in his clear plastic cup.
I was finally able to let go of his hand after the third glass of wine. The flight attendant was kind enough to let us each order two drinks. That made six including the woman we used as our wine decoy. And as an added bonus, a guy seated across the aisle ordered us two more. His treat. He said he couldn’t help but overhear that we were nervous flyers. Apparently he used to be too and his kind gesture, and that fourth drink, really helped to take the edge off even more.
“I actually think I’m relaxed enough to go use the restroom.” I laugh. “Me. Peeing on an airplane. That’s insanity.” I cover my mouth to smother another loud laugh. Wine makes everything so much funnier. Oh no. Laughter and a full bladder is not a good combo. “Okay, seriously, move out so I can go pee,” I say with some urgency.
Jax stands up and just as I squeeze by him to head to the bathroom in back of the plane, he whispers, “Should I meet you down there?”
Is he giving me a Mile High proposition? The two of us having sex on an airplane, in the air. Oh my God, what a story that would make. Two people who were scared to fly meet at the airport, then fall in love….
Whoops.
We’re not there yet. Well, I am but I don’t know if he is.
Jax is amazing. Never in my life could I have dreamed of a more perfect man. Spontaneous, romantic, and without those cock-blocking pills—an amazing lover.
“Yes!” I shout, already five rows away, accepting the scandalous invitation from the man I love.
Quick, I better pee.
I fold the lavatory door closed, drop my jeans, and hover over the rectangular seat with the hole. It’s really small, like crazy small. And is it me or is it very loud in here? Nothing happens. I have to pee really bad but my crippling fear and this loud, cramped space is making it hard to come out.
Damn. Why is it so noisy? The engine really roars in these confined quarters. Everything is vibrating. Is the engine actually under this bathroom? I pull my jeans back up. Not gonna happen, I’ll pee when we land.
I eyeball the small space one last time. The Mile High club must be one of those urban legends cause I call bullshit on anyone who claims to have had sex in a bathroom this size. And that’s coming from someone who’s had sex in the front seat of a Mustang.
The second I yank open the door, Jax is standing right outside. He gives me a gentle push, urging me back into the metal box.
“I can’t,” I say, pushing back, urging him in the opposite direction. “I’m sorry but I just can’t.”
“Wine vagina?” he deadpans, raising his brows, and I lose it. I squeeze my legs together trying to contain my still full bladder while laughter tears through me.
“Stop it.” I slide a finger under my glasses to wipe away a tear. “I can’t because look at this space. It’s a tin can. I couldn’t even pee in it.” I wrap my arms around his neck. He’s not even all the way in the bathroom. Most of his body is still outside. “Trust me, it would have been pretty epic to have a Mile High moment but sex on a plane is not happening.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t still have a moment,” Jax says, his arm scraping along the edge of the door to wrap his arms around me. Even hugging is difficult in this tiny space.
“What kind of moment are you talking about?” I ask, tightening my grip around his neck as the plane moves, causing me to stumble. The seat belt sign turns on and the pilot announces we are starting the descent into Miami.
“How about—I love you, Paisley,” he says, his voice raspy and tender with sincerity. His piercing blue eyes back up his heartfelt declaration.
I swoon and release an elated sigh before my lips meet his. The man I’m madly in love with just told me he loved me in an airplane bathroom. It’s a moment all right, an epic moment...
A Mile Sigh moment.
The End.
Coming VERY Soon - Whiskey Chick
The next story may be Remi’s but rest assured, you will definitely be filled in on the progression of Paisley and Jax’s story along the way.
The Two-Night One-Night Stand
The Two-Night One-Night Wedding
A Disconnected Christmas
Books, Blogs, & Reality
Fake Boobs
Hooker Heels
Fast
Wait
Flaw
Panic
And Coming Soon
Whiskey Chick
www.RyanRingbloom.com
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