He smells freaking fantastic and it takes more self-control than it should not to lean in and inhale. I also can’t seem to stop sneaking glances at him.
No wedding ring.
He’s incredibly polite to anyone he makes eye contact with.
And when the flight attendant comes over to ask if we’d like anything to drink, he immediately turns to me so I can answer first.
Clearing my throat, I smile and opt to skip any caffeine and go straight for asking about the wine. It’s almost noon and I’ve been up for eight hours already, so…
“Can I get a glass of cabernet sauvignon, please?”
She smiles before turning to my seatmate. “And for you?”
“Coffee, please. Black with sugar. Thank you.”
When she walks away, he turns his head and grins. “It sounds like we’ve had very different mornings.”
Confused, I blurt out, “What?” And then I get what he’s saying and laugh softly. “My alarm went off at three a.m. so I could catch a six-thirty flight out of Seattle. I’ve already had three cups of coffee, a chocolate cake pop, and a Coke. I think my heart might explode if I have any more caffeine.”
That statement doesn’t exactly make me sound great, but the words are out before I can stop them.
Nodding, he replies, “And I worked until three a.m., slept for three hours, and then had a three-hour drive to the airport. If I could get my coffee in IV form right now, I’d do it.”
“It can’t hurt to ask, right?” I tease and then humiliate myself by snort-laughing. Inwardly, I groan, and when the flight attendant returns with our drinks, I gladly take mine in both hands and take a long sip.
Mr. Handsome chuckles before leaning back and closing his eyes.
I take that as my cue to focus on the damn eulogy, even though any minute, the announcement will come that all large electronics will have to be stored for takeoff. Still, I tap out a few thoughts and funny stories—like the time Matt organized a scavenger hunt for all our friends. We stole lawn ornaments, construction cones, took crazy pictures, and…
He got arrested.
“Hmm…”
I scratch that story and remember the time we went into the city to see a Broadway show. I was so excited about it and Matt went to get us some refreshments and…
Didn’t return until midway through the show and was clearly high.
“Why is this so difficult?” I whisper.
The flight attendant announces that we are going to be delayed, and I immediately whip out my phone and text Vanessa again. I sip my wine; I jot down random stories about Matt—and most of them end badly—and wonder if maybe all these delays are the universe’s way of telling me I shouldn’t be doing this. Unfortunately, I’m on the plane, my luggage is on the plane, and my friends are expecting me, so…I’m going on this trip.
Thirty minutes later, I’m on my second glass of wine, and my third page of notes. They all suck, and I groan louder than I expected.
“Can I ask you something?”
I nearly jump out of my seat at the nearness of his voice and place a hand on my chest where my heart is threatening to jump out. “Um…sure.”
“What are you working on?”
“Excuse me?”
He’s asked nicely, but for some reason, it still feels a bit like an invasion of privacy.
“Something personal.” And yeah, there’s a hint of defensiveness there.
“Look, I don’t mean to pry, but I’ve been listening to you angrily type, then sigh and groan for the last twenty minutes. Maybe you need to just put that away for a little while and go back to it later. Or tomorrow.”
“I wish,” I murmur and that garners an interested look from him. “It’s a eulogy. The funeral is tomorrow. I’ve had a week to work on this and every time I try, I can’t…” I hang my head because it’s going to sound awful no matter how I say it.
