“Because,” I said, leaning in closer to her, “it’s a lot like you. Larger than life. It fills up the space in front of you as far as you can see. And it can be temperamental.” I smiled when she made a face. “One minute it’s crashing onto the sand with great ferocity, but the next moment the waves become gentle and it laps at your ankles like a soft caress.”
She let go of the armrests completely and leaned a little closer. “Sounds like you’re the one who really loves the ocean.”
I stared at her for long minutes, her words not really penetrating my brain. All I could think about was how pretty she was sitting there with those loose blond curls framing her face and her nervous pink cheeks. But then the word love broke through the haze in my brain. I shook my head. “I don’t love anything.”
She sat back. I handed her the drink, which she took and downed about half in one great slurp. “We’re in the air,” she said.
“You didn’t even notice we were taking off.” I got up and moved across the plane to sit on a small couch over by a few small windows.
“It’s those damn jeans,” she murmured.
“What about my jeans?”
“Stupid superpower hearing,” she muttered, taking another drink.
“You like my jeans, huh?” Smug satisfaction filled my chest.
“I’d like them better if you took them into another room and stayed there.”
“You keep up that attitude, this is going to be a very long flight.”
“How long is it anyway?”
“About nine hours.”
She gaped at me. “Nine hours stuck on a plane with you?”
I grinned.
“What are we going to do for nine hours?”
“I can think of a few things.” I wagged my eyebrows. “Want to see how my jeans look on the floor?”
She spit her drink halfway across the room and the back of her hand flew to her mouth. “Ew! You are so gross!”
I scowled. “That’s not what you were saying the other night when I kissed you.”
“Do not remind me.”
“Why? Afraid you’ll want to do it again?”
Her shoulders slumped a little and she swiveled her chair toward the window. “If I get fired for this little trip, you owe me a million dollars.”
I would take her silence on the kissing subject as a yes. “A million dollars? I didn’t realize DMV employees made so much money.”
“They don’t. Most of it would be for the mental abuse I’m suffering at your hands.”
I laughed.
“I think a shopping spree on Rodeo drive will change your mind.”
“I’m not going shopping on Rodeo drive.”
“No?” I figured that was the first place she would go.
“No. I’m not spending your money.”
“But you’ll take a million?”
