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“I was so in my head that I never fell asleep, period. That’s why I crashed so hard on the flight. I was nervous about seeing you. I never thought this would happen, Norah. I never thought we would have this chance.”

I stop him in front of a gate that’s boarding, not caring how many people are watching. I drop my duffel at our feet and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his face down to mine and kissing him hard. His hands drop everything, pulling me close until we both stop before it escalates beyond what’s suitable for being in public.

“Let’s go to the lounge,” he says as we collect ourselves. “They have these great breakfast sandwiches.”

“Wait, Henry, are you rich?” I ask as it dawns on me.

“I do okay.” His shrug reveals he’s doing much better than okay.

* * *

Once we’re in the air and I’ve fully immersed myself in the spacious seat and my very own armrest, Henry leans over to me, taking my hand and kissing the inside of my wrist.

“Only two hours until we’re home,” he says.

“Back to real life.” It comes out more ominous than I intended. “Or almost. I don’t go back to work till after the New Year.”

“Me too,” he replies.

“Is it going to be awkward at work with the whole Genevieve situation?”

He shrugs. “It was already awkward.”

“Henry,” I say, a thought that’s been swirling around coming to a head. “What would have happened if we didn’t both live in New York?”

“Well, we wouldn’t have been on the same flight, and you wouldn’t have been so angry with me from the start.”

“Hen.” I shake our joined hands at him. “You know what I mean.”

His eyes are heavy on mine. “We would have both ended up there at some point. I knew it deep down in my bones. I think I was always searching for you, whether it was intentional or not. We figured it out, and we were granted this beautiful second chance. I don’t want to dwell on hypothetical situations that take you away from me again when I finally have you.”

“Okay. No more what ifs,” I agree, letting myself be happy and quieting my mind at thirty thousand feet. I stare out my window at the clouds passing by.

“I would like to take you on a date, Norah. A real one.”

“A date,” I repeat. My mind wanders to what a date means to Henry Cole. Probably a nice restaurant, where he’s made a reservation. A full dinner, appetizers included. My dates usually involve one or two drinks at a dive bar.

“I may or may not have already put some plans in motion, but they can change. Truthfully, all I want is to bring you home with me and not leave my bed for the next seventy-two hours, but I think I owe you a proper date. It’s been two decades in the making.”

“No pressure,” I laugh.

“Is that a yes?” Henry asks, hopeful.

“Yes. But I am also intrigued by this seventy-two-hour sex marathon.”

Henry’s eyebrows shoot up, as if that statement hadn’t originally come from his own mouth, the gold specks in his eyes dancing in a sea of blue.

“Wow, you like, really want me,” I tease, but he leans in close to my ear, making the hair stand up on the back of my neck when he whispers, “You have no idea how badly I want you.”

I feel the pull of need between my thighs, and I uncross and recross my legs.

Henry leans back in his seat. He seems to enjoy watching me squirm. “Date first. Then bed.”

I absolutely hate this plan. I want to flag down the flight attendant and request a blanket just so I can touch him this very second. I want to lock us in his roommate-free apartment as soon as we land in New York and fuck until neither of us can walk.

But he’s right. I should go back to my place for the night. If I don’t unpack my suitcase tonight, it will sit on my floor until St. Patrick’s Day, and soon I won’t be able to see the carpet of my bedroom.

“Fine,” I say, folding my arms across my chest so he knows this is a reluctant yes.