Page 62 of Every Step She Takes

“Yeah, and that’s weird . Most people don’t share all of their secrets with a stranger.”

“But I love that you did.” She stares at me with those hazel eyes, and my stomach is in my ribs again. “I have a habit of falling in love with women I barely know, so when I immediately fell for you, I thought it was just the same thing I always do.”

“You… you fell for me? Immediately?”

“Oh yeah. The second you shouted I’m a virgin on an airplane, I was a goner. And I should have known it was different with you. You are different. I-I can’t explain it, but when you held my hand during that turbulence, I felt… at peace, somehow.”

I hold tighter to her hand now. Whatever this thing is that she’s doing, I am starting to suspect it might be about more than just sharing secrets with me.

“I almost kissed you on the plane to London,” Mal says, giving me more and more of herself, “and if you’d given me even the slightest indication that you wanted me to, I would have.”

I did want her to. From the moment I laid eyes on her and felt that jolt of familiarity for someone I’d never seen, all I wanted was to be closer to her.

I think that’s the real reason I came out to her when I thought the plane was going to crash.

I didn’t want to miss the chance to connect with her in whatever feeble, embarrassing way I could.

“When I found out we were on the same tour, I was pissed, because I knew I was never going to be able to resist you. But I tried. I really tried. Michelle and Inez both told me not to fall for you, but I-I couldn’t help it. You made the silence tolerable.”

I don’t even know what this means, but I realize I’m holding my breath.

“None of it was for practice, Sadie,” Mal says. “None of it was for the sake of science.”

I exhale. “It… it wasn’t?”

“I don’t even care about science!” she shouts. “I just liked you. I flirted with you because I wanted to, and I kissed you because I wanted to, and I fucked you because I’d never wanted anyone like I wanted you.”

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to lower your voice.” The flight attendant is back in the aisle beside us. “You’re upsetting the other first-class passengers.”

“I’m very sorry. I promise I’m almost done.

” Mal makes a point of lowering her voice, of leaning closer to me.

“I should have told you all of that from the beginning. And when you offered to come with me to my father’s funeral, I should have told you that having you there would have meant the whole fucking world to me. ”

I close my eyes to stop the sting of tears.

“No woman I’ve ever been with has offered to do something like that for me, and I didn’t know how to let you be there for me.”

Fuck the tears. I open my eyes anyway. “You truly have the most deplorable taste in women.”

She laughs. “I love that you always make me laugh when I need it most. I love seeing the world through your eyes, and I want to take you to every place I’ve ever been so I can experience it for the first time again, with you.”

I almost don’t notice the shift from past tense to present, but once I do, it’s all I can notice. My heart is in my throat, and my stomach is in my chest, and my butterflies are in my stomach. A million foolishly hopeful butterflies, waiting for the first sign it’s safe to take flight.

“And I just love you,” Mal finally says with the most infuriatingly flippant shoulder shrug. “I don’t care that we barely know each other, and I don’t care that this is what I always do, because I’ve never done it with you . I-I think it could be different with you.”

The butterflies take flight, and they take me with them, lifting me out of my seat and threatening to float away with me entirely.

“I want to kiss you a thousand times,” Mal says, and gravity tugs me back down to my seat. “I want the boring middle parts with you. February and Tuesdays. Ikea furniture and an entire cupboard full of Tupperware and—”

“Oh my God,” I gasp in horror. “You’re not proposing , are you?”

“Oh, fuck no.” She snorts. “No, no, I’m not proposing. Jesus. I just…” She takes our joint hands and brings them to her heart. “Sadie Wells, I would love to date you.”

I’m kind of laughing, kind of crying, kind of floating. “But… but you live… wait, where do you live?”

“I have no idea,” she says with a breathless laugh. “Seattle, maybe? To be close to Michelle and close to… you? If that’s something you’d want. I thought maybe we could make that decision together.”

Together .

The very idea makes me want to curl up against her warm skin and never leave.

“I love being your friend,” Mal says, holding me as close as she can with the armrest between us. “But I would love to be more.”

And I kiss her on this airplane to Michigan, the way she wanted to kiss me on the first one to London. But I wouldn’t go back if I could; I wouldn’t have her rewrite how it all played out. We took the long way round to get to this moment, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

At a cruising altitude of thirty-four-thousand feet somewhere over Oregon, we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.