1
Jake
December 18th
The terminal at Sea-Tac is nearly empty when I make it through the security check and head up to the gate.
“Sorry I’m late,” I mumble to the steward manning the ticket gate.
“No problem, sir.” His tone suggests that it is, in fact, a problem. “But you are the last, so let’s get you on board.” He ushers me down the enclosed walkway to the plane and shows me to the first class cabin. When I spot my seat, I pause for a second. There’s a guy at the window seat in my aisle.
He already has a pillow stuffed under his neck and one of the complimentary eye masks on, obscuring most of his face. Everything about him gives off don’t-bother-me vibes—lips pressed together in a thin line, arms crossed over his chest as if shielding himself from the world.
I take my seat, careful not to disturb him. Because I'm the last passenger to board, we taxi out to the runway in no time. Once in the air, I check out the inflight entertainment options, but nothing catches my attention. I’m about to purchase Wi-Fi credit to browse for my first meal in Honolulu when the guy next to me moves.
He yanks the eye mask off his face in one violent motion, tossing it onto the floor. I half expect an explosion of some sort, but he only groans, shaking his head once. He bends down to reach for the eye mask, and that’s when I catch a full glimpse of his face.
Damn, Don’t Bother Me guy is pretty. Asian, with expressive dark eyes and a strong, angular jaw framing wide, kiss-me lips. Lips that would look great pressed against my skin. Right now they’re pulled down in a frown, but I wonder how they’d look when he smiles.
“Got it,” I tell him, because the mask has landed more within my reach than his. I place it on top of the drinks tray that rests between our seats.
“Thanks,” he mumbles. Then he mutters something that sounds like “Fuck it,” under his breath. He reaches over and presses the call button, bringing a different flight attendant over.
“What can I help you with, sir?” the new guy asks.
“I need a glass of wine. Or maybe a shot of whiskey.” Direct and to the point. I like it.
“Nervous flyer?” I ask. Not trying to flirt at all. Not unless it ends up working.
He turns to me, a spark of irritation in his eyes. “What? No.” He winces. “Ugh, I’m sorry. No, I’m not. I just thought I might as well take advantage of first class while I can.”
“While you can?”
He shakes his head and lets out a long sigh. “I was upgraded from coach because—” He’s cut short when the flight attendant returns with his drink.
“Can I get a gin and tonic?” I call before the flight attendant leaves. If my neighbor’s drinking, I might as well keep him company, right? I glance over at hot grumpy dude and he’s already downed the entire shot of whiskey. “Whoa. Big fan of whiskey, huh?”
He winces again. “No. Big fan of getting drunk and forgetting today ever happened.”
“That bad, huh?”
A muscle jumps in his jaw, and he closes his eyes, swallowing. He manages to look even prettier in profile. “I was supposed to go on this vacation with my girlfriend. Who dumped me as we were on our way to the airport this morning.”
“That airport? The one we just flew out of?”
“Yeah, that one. We were about twenty minutes away when she told me she wanted to end things.”
“Wow.” I literally have no idea how to respond to that. “Breakups suck, man.” Not that I know much about them. I had a girlfriend in high school for about two weeks before realizing girls really weren’t my thing. Since then, none of my flings have lasted long enough to have been upgraded to relationship status. “Were you with her long?”
He grimaces at his empty drinks tray. The brooding look is good on him. “Six years.”
“Jesus.”
To my surprise, he lets out a chuckle, his face breaking into a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s still nice to see, though. I was right about a smile looking good on him.
I nod thanks to the flight attendant when he returns with my drink, and point to signal for a refill on my neighbor’s, because fuck does he need it.
“We met in law school and we’ve been together ever since. We work at the same firm.”
I grimace. “You’re gonna have to go back to work with your ex around the corner?”
His second drink comes and he takes a generous gulp of it. “That’s not even the worst part.”
Okay, I’ll bite. “What’s the worst part?”
He places his drink on the tray and runs his hand through his hair. “I booked this entire trip to propose. My whole family, who adores her, knows I was going to do it in Hawaii.”
“Shit.”
“Yes. Shit.”
I lift my glass and hold it out. The sharp clink of his glass against mine makes me smile. “Okay, we’re doing this. Drinking will help you forget all about it. Let’s keep ‘em coming, all right?”
“Keep them coming.”
“I’m Jake, by the way. Figure you should know my name if we’re gonna get drunk together.”
“I’ve never been drunk before.”
Okay, how is that even possible? I thought everyone’d gotten shit-faced at least once by the time they’re twenty-five, and this guy looks a little older than that. Older, but still cute.
“Well, good news—or, I dunno, bad news—is you’re probably gonna get to experience it very, very soon, my man.”
“Good. And my name’s Bennett.”
Somehow, I don’t know how, Bennett and I end up drinking until our flight attendant cuts us off, gathering our last remaining glasses with a rather forced smile curling his lips. He’s probably worried one or both of us will stink up first class with our puke. He might have a point.
“I think I’m drunk,” Bennett says, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s been telling me bits and pieces about his relationship with his ex, Pearl, for the past hour or so, and there’s been a lot of nose-pinching. I’m surprised it’s not red by now. I really want to reach out and give the bridge of his nose a comforting rub and apologize to it for all that abuse.
But okay, back to what he’s saying. “Right. Drunk.” I think that’s kinda evident by the way we are no longer allowed booze. “How does it feel? You think you’re into it?”
He gives a tiny shrug. “Didn’t think I’d be, but actually it’s nice. I feel… warm. And like I could kiss someone.” His voice is lowered on the last bit.
I feel a grin splitting my face and match the volume of his voice, leaning over across the console separating our seats to talk to him. “Yeah, alcohol makes some people horny. And that is excellent, because it’s the exact thing you need right now, my friend.”
“To be horny?” He looks kind of skeptical.
“I can’t believe I have to explain the concept of a rebound to you, but since you’re a unicorn who hadn’t ever gotten drunk before today, I’ll let it slide. The thing you need is to get drunk—which we’ve already done, good job. Next step after that? Forget about the woman who didn’t appreciate you, go out, and kiss someone.”