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“But I wanna keep talking,” I say, already snuggling up with my back against the plane wall and my head leaning against the seat. “I like the way your voice sounds.”
He laughs. “Don’t worry, Ruby. We’ll talk again soon.”
I nod then, tucking my little pillow into a comfortable spot and closing my eyes.
Then I pop one back open.
“Promise?”
He gives me that panty-dropping smile, and something lights up inside of me. “Promise.”
* * *
“Miss. Excuse me, miss?”
My eyes open a tiny bit at the sound of the flight attendant. I glance around blearily and realize with dawning clarity that the plane has landed and I’m the only person still on board, apart from the cleaning crew that’s starting to wander through the cabin.
“Sorry to wake you, but we’ve landed and it’s time for you to disembark.”
My eyes widen in shock and I wipe at my face. “Shit, are you serious?”
When she nods, I start apologizing and grabbing my things.
Then I stop, look around again—as if doing another perusal will somehow conjure Boyd into existence.
“Is something wrong?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No, I just… The man I was sitting with—I’m assuming he already got off the plane?”
She gives me a sympathetic look that I don’t like very much.
Listen, lady, I don’t need your pity.
“Never mind,” I mumble, grabbing my notebook and phone from the seatback pocket and shoving them into my bag. Then I’m scrambling out of my seat and off the aircraft.
I don’t know why I’m surprised Boyd took off. Boyd Mitchell with the big family and the awesome life. I rambled on like an absolute idiot, like I always do, and he was probably glad to be shot of me.
Sometimes, I wish I could just have a normal conversation with a man for once. Like, I was nervous on the plane, sure, but I was babbling on about all my personal problems, just dumping them all on his lap and…
I wince.
And I told him I’ve never had an orgasm!?!
Jesus. Talk about mortifying.
So yeah, it would be great if I could talk to a man and not make myself sound like an absolute crazy person, but I guess I’ll have to try to learn how to do that another day.
I mean, it’s not like he would have asked for my number or…I don’t know.
But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter how he made me feel on that plane. What happens on a plane stays on a plane. I know that’s not the saying, but I’m sure it applies. It’s like a different world up there, after all.
He was probably just indulging me out of boredom.
I slowly wander out to the pickup area, stopping to look at souvenirs in a few shops before heading to baggage claim, my eyes peering around to see if I spot my seat neighbor, but to no avail.
It isn’t until I’m standing at the curb, checked bag in one hand and backpack over my shoulder that I realize I have no idea how I’m getting to Ken’s house. I don’t even know where I’m going, don’t know whether it’s close enough that I can just catch an Uber or if I’ll need to rent a car.
This is one of those other things my mom says is so endearing about me, even though I know she can’t stand it. I’m not a big planner. I don’t know what I’m doing for the entire time I’m here. 12 days of spending time with Ken and his family at some house on a lake.
