It’s hard to tell him that, but he made himself vulnerable to me, and it would seem like almost a betrayal not to do the same.
“I’ve waited this long, haven’t I?” I finish.
19
Enzo
“I don’t think I can wait,” Chari’s voice pipes through the phone.
We’ve had a crazy week getting ready for our launch in Europe. Hayden told me last night he’s never seen me like this, and I know exactly what he’s talking about. It’s concerning, actually.
I’m distracted. Losing focus. Before Chari, most of my excitement was reserved for the company. For weekly reports and lab results. Now I’m staring at my phone and counting the hours until she and I video chat every night. Never mind thinking about this weekend. I should be planning for the launch, but the promise of finally having Chari in my bed preoccupies me.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I look at my screen. She’s wearing a fuzzy sweater wrap thing that makes me want to crawl through there and feel it. And her. “Did you look at the weather? It’s unseasonably warm this week.”
Chari nods. “I packed layers.”
“Don’t forget your passport.”
“Already packed.”
I hate to get off with her, but I still need to pack too.
“You’re one step ahead of me. It was crazy today at the office. I just got home when you called.”
She scrunches her nose. “At nine o’clock?”
Chari is home by four o’clock every day. Even though she knows my hours by now, they’re a constant source of amazement to her.
“Yeah,” I tease. “Early night.”
She can’t tell if I’m kidding or not.
I’m not.
“The car will pick you up at three a.m. Get some rest. You’re going to need it. See you at the airport?”
She gets this dubious look on her face—the same expression I get from my family members every time I tell them I’ve sent a car for them.
“Don’t look at me like that. There’s no reason you should drive to the airport in the middle of the night.”
“Except that I have a car. And know how to drive. I’ve been doing it for twenty-nine years.”
I bite back a laugh. I love it when Chari responds impetuously to something. It’s part of her charm. She immediately realizes her mistake. “I mean, hold on . . .”
“Thirteen years,” I provide.
“Exactly. That’s what I meant. I’ve been driving for thirteen years. See, that’s why I teach reading and not math.”
“Don’t shortchange yourself. There’s no such thing as being inherently good at math.”
“I know, I know. A math teacher friend of mine reminds me all the time not to trash-talk her subject. Says the kids are listening, and they need to know they can all be good at it.”
“Exactly.”
“But I still hate it.”
I smile. “What I hate is the thought of lying next to you tomorrow night and not being inside you.”
An abrupt change in subject, but one she rolls with easily. It’s been like this all week. The promise of what might happen—will happen—two nights from now is nearly killing us both.
“Easy to fix.”
It really did sound like a good plan in my head. Make Friday afternoon the best date Chari has ever had in her life. An unforgettable day, and night. But I forgot the part about sleeping in the same bed with her the night before.
Making it to Friday is a challenge at this point, one she seems set on making me lose.
Chari should know me better than that. I don’t lose.
Ever.
“Think how amazing Friday night will be,” I counter. “And on that note, I’m off to pack.”
“I’m off to attempt to sleep.”
I never get much sleep the night before a flight either. But I wish her luck, and after we hang up, I quickly pack my bag.
I can’t sleep, of course, the anticipation keeping me awake. It’s hard to imagine that a few weeks ago I was cursing Hayden for making me take this trip. Now, I can’t remember the last time I looked forward to something this much. When the alarm rings, I’m surprised. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever nod off.
We agreed to meet at the gate, knowing we’d be separated in security anyway. Chari doesn’t travel as much, doesn’t have PreCheck, and will likely be held up for a while. Thursday tends to be one of the busier days at JFK, even at this time in the morning. So when I sail through security and walk toward the gate, I’m surprised to see her sitting alone, earbuds in her ears, looking my way.
She spots me.
My heart races, knowing this is the beginning of . . . something. This weekend may be a business trip, but it’s a hell of a lot more than that.
We haven’t talked about the status of our relationship yet, but it’s inevitable it’ll happen this weekend. I worry how Chari will take the whole work-life balance speech I know I have to give her. Either we’ll come out of this a couple or . . .
“Hey, handsome.”
“Morning, tiger,” I whisper as she stands to greet me. She’s stuck with the name at this point. And then I become something I hate.
A public-display-of-affection person.
But I can’t help leaning down for a slow, deep kiss. One not entirely appropriate for an airport. I hate to break away. Getting lost in Chari is my new favorite pastime.
“Ready for an adventure?” I say.
“Signs point to yes.”
That’s when I notice two coffees in a carrier on the seat next to her.
“You are a gem,” I say, picking up the unopened one.
“How do you know it’s for you?” But she grins and takes the other, throwing the carrier away.
By the time we board, my nervous energy from earlier has dissipated a bit, and I’m ready to settle in for a long travel day. Typically, I would take a red-eye to Europe, but there were no open seats on the flight Hayden was supposed to take, so I had to reschedule us to a morning flight when I added Chari’s seat. But I don’t mind, not with her by my side.
“I’m trying to play it cool, but holy shit,” she says, looking at our seats. Since I had to rebook, anyway, I made sure to have my assistant choose an airline with some of the best first-class service available.
“Nice, right?”
We settle in, Chari looking exactly like I did the first time I flew first class. Hayden considers it downsizing since his dad owns a private jet. We could afford to keep our own planes now, but neither of us do. I don’t travel enough to justify it, and Hayden uses his dad’s.
“What would you like to drink, Mr. DeLuca? Ms. Atwood?”
Chari stares at the flight attendant while I jump in.
“Two mimosas, please.”
I’m loving the look on Chari’s face.
“People are still boarding,” she says in one of those whispers everyone can hear. “We haven’t even left the runway, and she’s getting us drinks?”
I can’t resist. Leaning over, I kiss her, enjoying the lingering taste of coffee on her lips.
Enjoying her.
“This is actually comfortable,” she says, shimmying into her seat after I lean back. “I could get used to this.”