Outrageously in Love by Jen Morris
5
“There must be something you can do?”
I stand at the customer service desk, fiddling with the strap of my bag. I’m trying my best not to freak out but it feels like all the events of the past few hours are crowding in and suffocating me.
I mean, it’s not like I planned to sit beside a handsome stranger on the plane. Or to share a whiskey and tell him how spontaneous I am. Or to, erm, have sex in the bathroom.
Jesus. I don’t even know who I am right now.
In case things weren’t messed up enough, my luggage has gone missing. So I’m standing here, in my dress that still has the faint smell of Luke’s cologne on it, desperate to put on something—anything—else. And I can’t.
“I’m sorry, I’ve done all I can,” the woman behind the desk says. “We just have to wait for the bag to turn up.”
My stomach plunges at the finality in her tone. “So… that’s it?” She nods and I wring my hands as my pulse escalates. How am I supposed to survive without my luggage? Why didn’t I pack a carry-on suitcase?
It’ll be okay, I tell myself. You can buy new clothes, that’s easy. You’re just overwhelmed.
I draw in a breath, all the way down to my belly, and my heart rate begins to slow. Right, I can handle this. I just need to get to Alex’s place and I’ll feel better.
“Okay, thank you,” I mumble, tugging my bag onto my shoulder. I turn and trudge across the airport concourse and, despite myself, I glance around one final time. Just in case. In case he’s here.
He’s not, of course. He’s long gone.
I shake my head at myself and plod towards the exit. It’s dark when I step outside. The air feels cooler than home. I pull my phone out to text Alex and find a message waiting from her.
Alex: Welcome to New York! I booked you a car service, just find your name. Can’t wait to see you!
Relief washes through me and I quickly fire off a reply that I’ll be there soon. When I spot my name on a sign, the driver greets me with a smile, holding the door open. I slide into the car and, for the first time since we touched down, I feel some of the tension drain from my body. I’m so exhausted after everything that’s happened, I can barely process the fact that I’m here, in America. I slump in the backseat, sliding my phone away, and that’s when I notice the paper tucked into the front pocket of my bag. With a frown, I pull it out to find unfamiliar handwriting. Using the light from my phone, I read the scribbled words.
Harriet, that was incredible. I wish things weren’t so complicated with me right now, because if they weren’t I would love to see you again. I’m sorry that I can’t. Take care, Luke.
I clutch the paper in disbelief. I had no idea he’d written that, I’d thought…
After he had left the bathroom, I stared at my reflection, waiting for the flush in my cheeks to disappear, for my heart to stop racing. The red lipstick still hadn’t budged, and as I tidied my hair and composed myself, I tried to make sense of what I’d just done—who I’d just been. My wild eyes reflected in the mirror showed me just how exhilarated I was, and the throbbing between my legs where he’d been only moments ago assured me that I hadn’t imagined it.
When I finally slid the bathroom door open, grabbed my glasses from the counter and turned to our seats, Luke wasn’t there. I stood for a few moments, stunned, wondering where the fuck he could have gone. My eyes desperately roamed the cabin, expecting to spot him somewhere, but I couldn’t. I was about to wander further up the plane when a flight attendant appeared beside me and told me in no uncertain terms that I’d better get into my seat and do up my seatbelt or there would be trouble. So I buckled myself in, numb with shock as I thought about what had happened: I’d had amazing sex with a stranger in an airplane bathroom.
And he’d vanished.
Actually, that was what bothered me the most. It’s just plain rude, right? It’s not like I was expecting to stroll into the sunset together after we landed, but didn’t I at least deserve a goodbye—maybe an “it was nice to meet you,” or a “thanks for the hot sex,” or something? I couldn’t bloody believe it.
Now, as I sit here in the car and read the handwritten note he must have scrawled while I hovered in the bathroom, I chuckle. At least he didn’t completely disappear then.
I exhale, tucking the note into the bottom of my bag, then turn to look out the window. It’s already after midnight, and as we head over a bridge I notice the city lights glittering in the distance. It’s such a familiar sight from television and films that I almost feel like I know it myself. In spite of my strange mood, a gasp catches in my throat.
New York is stunning. And while only a few hours ago it scared me shitless, I now feel an unfamiliar thrill zip through me. After everything I’ve been through over the past twenty-four hours, I think I might be able to handle this whole thing.
I smile as I watch the city unfold before me. I’m thrown by the fact that we’re driving on the wrong side of the road, and I try to figure out whether or not I’m supposed to tip the driver. Time to get into the American mindset.
Alex is waiting on the front step as the car pulls up and my heart swells with joy when I see her. It’s been a year since she moved here, and while we never spent much time together when she was back home, I realize I’ve missed her.
Guilt twists through me. I should never have said no to being her maid of honor in the first place. I can’t believe how selfish that was. I must make more of an effort with her. Spending time together over the coming weeks will be a good place to start, and hopefully that will bring us a lot closer.
The driver opens the door and I step out onto the street, offering him what I assume is a reasonable tip. Then I turn and take in the building that Alex calls home. It’s a redbrick apartment block in the West Village, with a black fire escape zig-zagging up the front. This street is lined with trees, and with October’s arrival some of the leaves are changing color. Stone steps lead up from the footpath (or “sidewalk” as they say here, must remember that) to an arched doorway where Alex stands, clasping her hands together in excitement.
I grin, pulling my bag onto my shoulder. I can see why Alex likes it so much here. I feel like I’m stepping onto a movie set.
“Harriet!” she squeals as I climb the steps.
“Hi!” I shiver in the cold night air, wishing I had at least brought a jacket in my handbag.
Alex tugs me into her arms and squeezes. Tears prick my eyes and I blink them away, squeezing her back. What an overwhelming few days it’s been.
She releases me with a smile, then freezes. “Wait. Where’s your suitcase?”
“Oh.” My gut pitches but I force myself to be nonchalant. “It got lost.”
“What?” Her face creases in concern. “Did you talk to them at the desk? Because—”
“Yep. I just have to wait.”
“Ugh. That sucks.” She links her arm through mine and pulls the front door open, leading me into the lobby. “You’ll have to borrow some of my stuff. Or we could go shopping!” She does an excited hop and it makes me giggle.
We pause halfway across the lobby and Alex points to an apartment door. “That was my apartment with Cat when I first moved here, but she lives with Myles now. You’ll meet her tomorrow. I’m upstairs, with Michael and Henry.” She pulls me along again and we start up the stairs to the second level.
“Thanks for waiting up for me,” I say, stifling a yawn.
“Of course! I couldn’t wait to see you. But Michael’s gone to bed, sorry. He has an early meeting with his agent tomorrow so we have to be quiet.”
She opens the door to the apartment and leads me inside. It’s warm, and the first thing I notice are the bookshelves lining the far walls of the living room. As soon as I’m rested I know I’ll be browsing them. The walls are dark red, and there’s a tan leather sofa in the middle of the room, worn in that comfy way that only leather can be. Off to the left is a desk strewn with papers and a hallway. To the right there’s a small wooden dining table, which leads around a corner to the kitchen.
“This is lovely,” I say. “Very cozy.”
Alex beams. “Thanks. You’ll be staying in Henry’s room. I hope that’s okay?”
“Of course.” I’m grateful to be staying with them and not at a big, impersonal hotel, but I do feel a bit bad that Alex’s soon-to-be stepson won’t get to sleep in his own bed. “What about Henry?”
“He’s with his mom while you’re here,” she says, and I hear the faintest American accent creeping into her voice, especially on the word “mom,” which I didn’t notice over the phone. “Unfortunately, you’ll meet her at some stage, too.”
Alex has mentioned once or twice how much she dislikes Michael’s ex, Mel, and I can’t say I’m looking forward to meeting her. I guess that’s the problem when your guy has a kid with someone else: there’s no way to avoid the ex.
Alex heads down the hallway and I follow, into a room filled with Star Wars posters and toys. She gestures to a stuffed Yoda in one corner. “Sorry about the decor.”
“Well, it’s a lot nicer than the swamps of Dagobah,” I joke, and she gives me a funny look.
“What?”
I put on my best Yoda voice. “Much to learn, you still have.”
I expect Alex to roll her eyes, but she grins. “I’ve missed you. You’re going to get on so well with Henry.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him,” I say, turning to the bed. It’s made with fresh sheets and there are towels folded on the end.
“Yeah, he’s really sweet. You guys can geek out over Star Wars together.” She glances at my bag, then at the bed, before turning to the door. “I’ll grab you some PJs.”
“Thanks.” I sit on the edge of the bed, letting my eyes wander around the room. They land on a framed art print of the Millennium Falcon hanging on the opposite wall. I inspect the round curve of the ship, thinking of the sliver of Luke’s tattoo I saw. I don’t know why I make that connection. It’s a similar shape, sure, but I highly doubt he has Han Solo’s spaceship tattooed on his arm—as awesome as that would be.
Alex enters the room. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow, okay? I can show you some of my favorite stores.” She hands me a pair of pajamas and pulls me into another hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” I smile, surprised to realize I mean it.
We say goodnight and Alex heads off to bed. I try to unpack the whirlwind of emotions I’m feeling as I change into the pajamas. Now that I’m finally here, alone in the silence of Henry’s room with my thoughts, everything is catching up with me. I’m anxious at not having my suitcase, but my mind keeps coming back to Luke. Memories from the plane flash through my head and my cheeks flush as I think about his kiss, his body against me, his hot breath on my ear. God, that was so hot—he was so hot. I wouldn’t have minded seeing him again, but his note said things were complicated with him. Whatever that means.
Actually, what does that mean? I frown, mulling this over—but I catch myself. I won’t over-think this. I won’t ruin this for myself like I always do.
I settle into bed, making a decision. I’m going to appreciate what I had with Luke for what it was: fun, sexy, and impulsive. He was gorgeous, and I’m still in awe that he managed to do what no other man—or myself—has done before, but I’ll never see him again and that’s that.
It’s for the best. The last thing I need is to get hung up on a guy. I’ve managed just fine without them.
But as I drift off to sleep, I can’t deny the unfamiliar ache that’s tugging at me. I’ve had a taste of something I didn’t even know existed, and I’m not sure I can forget that now.