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Playboy Pilot

Page 16

by Penelope Ward, Vi Keeland

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

We’d stopped at the small bar on the beach. After a couple of drinks there, we took the last round to go in SOLO cups and continued our party sitting on the sand.

“So, Kendall Sparks. You love when I speak Portugese. What else do you love? I need to know more about my travel companion.”

“What do you want to know?”

“For starters, you never told me where you’re from. What do you do for a living?”

“I live in Texas. I come from a family of oil magnates. I work on and off for the family business but don’t really have a clear career path.”

“Was that so hard?”

“I don’t always like telling people about my family. There are a lot of preconceived notions about people from wealthy backgrounds.”

“Your economic status doesn’t define who you are any more than my job defines me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were an airline pilot when we first met?”

I dug my feet into the sand and thought about my answer. “I wasn’t trying to hide it, really. It just never came up. I would’ve told you eventually if we’d had more time together. I was secretly hoping you would choose Rio, though, so I could surprise you. Why did you do it by the way?”

“Choose Rio?”

“Yeah.”

“I had to make a decision.”

“There was no part of you that took that flight because you thought I might be on it? I was obviously trying to give you hints.”

Even though it was dark, I could still see her cheeks blush. “What do you want me to say? That I’m attracted to you and flew across the world because you gave me your jacket?”

Yes.

“If that’s the honest answer, then yeah. What’s wrong with just being honest? People spend half their lives bullshitting. Why can’t we be upfront with each other?”

I laughed inwardly. Yeah, right. Then why don’t you tell her you were whacking off with her panties on your face?

Some things are better kept a secret.

“Go ahead and ask me anything you want. I’m not going to lie to you, Kendall.”

She finished off the last of her drink. “Anything?”

Looking deeply into her eyes, I repeated, “Anything.”

She gazed up at the sky. “How many of the stewardesses on that flight have you slept with?”

“All but one.” I swallowed.

“All but the lesbian.”

“Yes.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Why is it disgusting? Because I’m a single guy who fornicates? It’s just sex among adults who live a similar lifestyle. I’m responsible. I use protection. I don’t promise them anything I can’t deliver. The majority of the time, I’m the one who’s being approached.”

I realized all of that made me sound cold, but it was the truth.