“Well, seeing as it’s my honeymoon, I plan on drinking throughout most of the next week.”
“It’s your honeymoon? Congratulations!” the attendant gushed, looking back and forth between us. Uh oh. This wasn’t going to be pretty.
“Actually, Naomi,” Dalton began, studying her name tag for a second before settling his stony gaze back on her face, “congratulations aren’t really in order. You see, my fiancé called off our wedding six days ago, and I couldn’t get a refund for this trip.” Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but he kept going. “I’m heading to what was supposed to be my honeymoon with my best friend’s little sister, because she’s the only person in my life not doing anything else this week.”
His comment stung. It wasn’t like I didn’t know that was the only reason I was there, but until that moment, I still had hope that he would actually enjoy my company. Now the truth was perfectly clear. He was only tolerating me because he didn’t want to take this trip alone.
“I am so sorry,” she began, but he held up a hand.
“I’ll take that Jack and Coke now,” he demanded. “Do you want anything?” His question was directed at me, but his eyes weren’t. He refused to look in my direction. He was brooding, his posture rigid and jaw tense.
I wanted to reach out and comfort him, maybe apologize for overstepping, but I knew better. The flight attendant’s congratulations opened a wound that had finally started to heal, and even though his words hurt, I tried not to hold it against him. He was supposed to be married right now. Gianna, his beautiful bride, should’ve been in the seat I was occupying. Instead, he was stuck with me. I vowed in that moment to give him his space. I’d make myself scarce as soon as we landed and let him lick his wounds in private. He didn’t need me there watching him, quietly observing as he put the pieces of his broken heart back together.
“Just a water, please,” I answered sheepishly, my voice low and remorseful.
Three tumblers of double shot Jack and Cokes later, Dalton was feeling much better. I tried to convince him to eat something to soak up all the alcohol, but he refused. He was getting wasted and there was nothing I could do about it. The attendant brought another drink and he tossed it back quickly. The more relaxed he became, the friendlier he was towards her. Once she realized he and I weren’t really a couple, she started flirting with him hardcore. If this had been a movie, Dierks Bentley’s “Drunk on a Plane” would’ve been the accompanying soundtrack. He was getting smashed, and by the seductive look Naomi was giving him, he was dangerously close to joining the Mile-High Club.
I shrank back into my seat and stared out the window, unwilling to witness their exchanges any longer. Resting my head against the cool glass, I closed my eyes, willing this flight to be over as soon as possible.
I awoke sometime later to the sound of Dalton lightly snoring next to me. We both fell asleep at some point, and boy, was that a mercy. I yawned and stretched my muscles, wondering how long I’d been asleep. I glanced over at Dalton’s watch, surprised to see I’d slept most of the flight. We would be landing within the hour. Dalton stirred next to me but didn’t wake. I decided to let him sleep this one off, and hoped he woke up sober and in a better mood.
Dalton
I was jostled awake when the plane’s tires hit the runway, the aircraft bouncing as it lost momentum and rolled to a stop. Taylor was curled into herself, staring out the window. I watched her for a moment, not wanting to disturb her. She looked so tiny and withdrawn. Regret burned like bile in my throat. I was nasty to her and she didn’t deserve it. I’d bristled at her judgement and lashed out. She was probably right. I shouldn’t have been drinking that early in the morning, and now I had a headache because of it.
“Taylor,” I began, and she swung her gaze to me. She unfurled her limbs and sat up in her seat. “Look, I-”
The overhead speakers crackled to life and our captain’s voice drowned out my apology as he announced we’d reached our destination. She stood and collected her things before I could finish, and I suspected she knew what I wanted to say. I rose from my seat and took a few stumbling steps, following behind her. I was apparently still a little tipsy. Not a surprise, considering how much I drank.
I’d slammed back a couple more after Taylor fell asleep, and when my bladder could no longer wait to be relieved, I snuck off to the tiny bathroom. Naomi was waiting for me when I slid open the door. She pushed her way inside and pressed her body against me. Her lips met mine and her hands tangled in my hair. I let myself get lost in her, opening my mouth and sliding my tongue over her lower lips, dipping it inside as she moaned. After several minutes of making out, my body naturally reacting to her attentions, she offered to blow me, right then and there. She didn’t know how good that sounded. I desperately needed the release. So why did I hesitate? Gianna was no longer in the picture. I was a single man, free to do whatever I wanted with whomever I wanted. But something held me back.
Taylor’s face flashed into my memory. I worried that she would somehow know what I’d done if I chose to let this stranger pleasure me, and for some reason, that gave me pause. I gently turned Naomi’s offer down and returned to my seat, quickly passing out from a cocktail of whiskey and exhaustion.
We stepped out into the bright Caribbean sun and I brought my hand to my face, shielding my eyes. Ugh, Taylor was right. I shouldn’t have drunk so damn much.
We took the shuttle to our resort, sitting quietly next to each other on the bench seat. When the doors finally opened, she stepped out behind me and gasped. The private villa was even more breathtaking in person.
“This is where we’re staying for the next week?” I nodded. “Holy shit!” she exclaimed in wonder.
I unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping into the large, open space. We dropped our luggage just inside the door and began exploring. I checked out the living room with its massive flat screen, wondering who the hell would want to watch TV in a place like this, while Taylor went to the kitchenette. I gravitated to one of only two closed doors and twisted the knob, seeing that it led to the bedroom.
My face fell and I let out a low curse when I saw the bed. It was covered in rose petals with towels shaped into a heart resting in the center. I never thought to notify them that this was no longer going to be my honeymoon, and all these extra touches were unnecessary. I stood there, frozen as Taylor chattered away in the hall. I knew the moment she entered the room, her sharp intake of breath echoing in the large space.
“Dalton,” she said, her voice laced with compassion as she gently laid a hand on my upper arm.
Her touch sent a little zing up my arm and through my body. The pain of Gianna’s betrayal was slowly fading, but my desire for Taylor was growing. What would she do if I kissed her right now, threw her onto the bed that I’d intended to share with someone else, and explored her luscious body with my mouth? I looked into her big doe eyes with their burst of green just around the irises that faded into a muted hazel. She had no idea what she was doing to me, and I needed to keep it that way.
I stepped out of her reach and walked to the sliding doors across from the bed. They opened onto a shaded patio that housed an outdoor tub and looked out over a stretch of private beach just beyond. White sand disappeared into turquoise water that sparkled like diamonds under the sunlight. This place was paradise.