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vladi

“ P assenger James, please check in with the gate agent. Passenger James to the gate agent.”

The announcement keeps repeating over and over as I wait in line with my boarding pass pulled up and ready to be scanned in.

Some motherfucker named James apparently can’t get his ass to the airport on time.

I arrived the required two hours early. I like to get to the gate, find my seat, and relax before takeoff.

I was even in the first-class lounge for a while but still made my way to the gate thirty minutes prior to our scheduled boarding.

What are people doing that they can’t be here at the correct time?

Larsy chartered a private plane for most of the wedding guests yesterday, but I had a sponsor photoshoot and my agent would have killed me if I missed it.

Larsy was kind enough to book me a commercial flight this morning.

Hopefully I missed a boring activity or two from this wedding weekend of humid festivities.

“Boarding pass, sir?” the gate agent asks as I hold my phone out for her to scan. “Thank you, and welcome aboard. Enjoy your flight.” I nod, heading down the jetway and finding my first class aisle seat, settling in as the rest of the passengers shuffle by.

“Passenger James, if you’re on the flight, please ring your call button,” the flight attendant announces over the onboard speaker.

Who the hell misses a flight to a tropical destination?

On second thought, maybe James has the right idea avoiding the ninety-degree weather.

I reach down to grab my headphones out of my bag when I hear an achingly familiar voice yelling, faintly at first then louder as it comes down the jetway, “Here!!!! Wait! Wait! I’m here!

Don’t close the door. I’m here!!!” she shouts as she barrels onto the plane with a gasp of triumph. “Made it!”

Staring at the out of breath woman as she drags her carry-on behind her, I fidget against the pressure in my chest. She’s carrying a ridiculously large purse that barely stays on her shoulder and wearing a giant, floppy beach hat that hides most of her face.

It dawns on me that the James they have been annoyingly paging was not a James or Jim or Jimmy.

It was Maggie James.

My brows raise and my pulse jumps. I crack my knuckles as the woman I’ve been dreaming about every night walks toward me.

“Glad you made it, Ms. James,” the flight attendant welcomes her. “You’re in 2A. Please take your seat as quickly as possible so we can take off.”

“Sure, no prob—oh hell no,” she scoffs, her eyes wide and nostrils flaring in anger when she sees I’m seated in seat 2B. “I’m not sitting with…with… him .”

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” the flight attendant asks, looking back to the flight crew waiting to close the door.

“Um, yeah. Big problem. I need to switch seats. I can’t sit here.”

Larsy failed to mention she was going to be on this flight as well.

I guess that’s what I get for letting him make all the travel arrangements.

I can’t take my eyes off her, the familiar panic bubbling within me.

He could have given me a heads up, but this is typical Hayes Larson sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.

Only this time it’s a slightly welcome annoyance.

Her body screams fury, but her eyes drown in fear.

Apparently, she didn’t get the memo either.

I furrow my eyebrows. “Come on, Maggie. Sit down.”

“No. Hell fucking no.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but the flight is completely full. And we’re running behind, so we need to get you in your seat for takeoff.”

Maggie’s eyes fill with rage as she stares at me, then back at the flight attendant before taking inventory of the other passengers looking at the scene she’s caused.

“Fine,” she snaps, tossing her giant bag into her window seat and struggling to place her roller bag in the overhead compartment.

She’s barely able to lift it, so the flight attendant has to help her get it stowed.

Maggie now stands in the aisle, glaring at me with her brows narrowed like I’m supposed to be doing something.

I suck my teeth, fighting to keep my face neutral. “What?”

“Are you going to get up so I can get in my seat? Or am I supposed to climb over your damn tree trunk legs?”

I stand, letting her pass as she grabs her gigantic purse with a huff and kicks it under the seat in front of her, finally collapsing in her goddamn seat.

“You know, Maggie, you could have just climbed over me,” I whisper, leaning into her space. “It’s not like you haven’t done that before.”

Her jaw clenches as she looks back at me.

“The only way I’ll ever climb you again is over your cold, lifeless body.

We may be stuck on this flight together, but that doesn’t mean I have to be nice.

Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t whisper in my ear.

” Clearly frazzled, she gestures to my hands.

“Put your little earbuds back in and do whatever it is you do on those damn flights you take every fucking day,” she barks as she buckles her seatbelt, contemplating something as she looks at the call button.

“But… if I fall asleep, wake me up for snacks and drinks. Otherwise, we are complete strangers on this flight. Got it?”

I hide the smile trying to peek through knowing she is not going to miss out on free booze. “Got it.”

I place my earbuds in my ears and turn on some classical music.

When I’m in the gym, I listen to metal bands.

Russian, German, American. All of it gets me fueled up for the game or a workout as the beat pumps through my chest. But when I relax, I prefer to listen to Tchaikovsky, Vivaldi…

anything without words. I lean back, trying not to steal glances at the woman next to me and focus on the sad piano ballad playing through my ears.

Moonlight Sonata. My mother used to love this song .

I try to focus on each note, hoping the somber tune will distract me.

It’s not working. All I can think of is her .

Here. Next to me. All I want is for her to be in my lap.

I squirm in my seat, trying to adjust the semi hard cock in my pants.

Glancing at her from the corner of my eye, my mouth waters as I picture her full lips against mine.

I’m going to have to ask for a damn blanket to cover this up if I’m not careful.

I close my eyes as I feel the plane start to take off down the runway, falling into the familiar routine of travel.

When the armrest next to me suddenly shakes, I’m pulled out of my classical trance.

I look to see Maggie’s white-knuckle grip between us, her face cringing with crinkled eyes as the plane ascends.

Does she not fly often? She told me not to speak to her, but.

..is she scared? I tilt my head, shifting in my seat.

I remove one of my earbuds and place my hand on the armrest beside hers so only our pinkies are touching. She whips her head to look at me, her hand still locked in place next to mine.

“Are you okay?” I whisper, leaning closer without meaning to.

“Fine,” she snarks. A beat passes between us, the plane turning sharply to head toward the lake. “I don’t fly often. ”

“Are you scared?”

She scoffs. “Of course not. I’m just not used to this.”

The stoic look on her face tells me she’s lying through her teeth. “If you’re scared, you can hold my hand.”

She grits her teeth. “I’m not scared, and I’m not holding your fucking hand.” The plane dips and her nails dig into the soft leather. “What happened to you not talking to me?”

“Just making sure you’re okay.”

She snorts and turns her attention out the window.

I try to hide my smirk as I place my earbud back in and relax, but she hasn’t moved her hand from the armrest, her pinky still touching mine.

Something twists behind my ribs, tight and restless, trying to escape years of isolation.

It’s painful and comforting all at once.

She didn’t pull away, and it’s making me feel something I haven’t felt in a long time.

Hope.