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First class.
Lathering up my hands, I think about Dominic’s Vegas idea. He might be onto something since my luck seems to be miraculously good today. First, crashing into a hot guy who is way too nice to me. Then, going up to the desk and being told they overbooked the flight and I’ve been bumped up to first class.
Okay, so it’s only two things if I don’t count the material gifts, but I can’t help but hope that maybe Dom flies first class, too.
With his fancy suit and nothing but whatever was in his pockets, he looks like an experienced traveler.
But when I turned around after being given my new seat assignment, I couldn’t find him.
I move over to the air dryer.
Maybe he lied about being on the same flight?
No, that would be dumb. He’s the one who asked if I was flying to Minneapolis, and he walked us right to the correct gate. He probably just had to go to the bathroom, same as me.
The line to the ladies’ room was long, so by the time I hurry back to my gate, they’re already boarding. And the digital sign shows that I missed the special boarding for the priority passengers. Whatever, I’ll still enjoy the experience. Time tolean into an evening of luxury.
I shuffle forward with the line as it moves.
Maybe it’s unhealthy to adopt a phrase so quickly from a stranger. But it’s a good sentiment. And it’s along the lines of mythis momentmantra. So, I don’t really see the harm. And it’s not like I’m going to scratch Dominic’s name into my bedroom wall when I get home.
Dominic. Even his name is hot.
I scan my ticket, and the woman at the gate tells me to have a good flight.
Then, for the eighteenth time, I confirm where I’m sitting. Row three, by the window.
I find the window preferable because I like to prop my head against the wall and nap. But I bet the aisle person is already sitting down, so I’ll have to ask them to get up. Which I don’t want to do. But it’s not like it’s the end of the world.
I make my way down the Jetway, closer to the plane, wondering if I’ll see Dominic. Wondering if I should say hi if and when I do. Wondering if I’ll ever just be normal and figure out how to play it cool.
“Good evening.” One of the airline attendants greets me as I step over the little gap and onto the plane.
“Hello.” I smile back.
There’s a large man ahead of me, so I can’t see beyond the row I’m next to.
I try to make my glances look casual as I check the passengers, but none of them are him.
None of them have those broad shoulders. None of them have that short dark hair I want to run my hands over so I can feel the ends tickle against my palms. None of them have those blue eyes that sparkle with secrets.
Dominic said he’s forty-one. But he feels older. Not older in an old man way, but in an experience way. In ahe’s lived a full lifekind of way.
But maybe that’s just the tattoos.
And damn, those tattoos.
I resist fanning myself but just barely.
The man ahead of me moves forward, and I look at row three.
At my row.
And at Dominic.
The edge of his mouth lifts. “Tell me you’re sitting next to me.”
I do my best to keep a neutral expression on my face. “I’m sitting next to you.”
