The corners of his mouth pulled up in an enormous smile. "I always go with: Hey, baby, are those space pants you got on? Because your ass is out of this world."
"Ha, that's funny. You could always use: You're so hot, even my zipper is falling for you."
"You are good," he laughed. "Promise me you'll be my wing woman the next time I want to go out. Usually, I use my old standard when I see a woman I want from across the bar," he said, curling his finger and giving me that come hither gesture. "And when she comes over I whisper in her ear..." and he leaned his head next to mine, breath hot in my ear. "I just wanted to see if I could make you come with my finger."
All joking aside, that one would've gotten me home with him. Good thing we weren't in a bar, because my vagina was quite interested in finding out what magical abilities his fingers were capable of. "That one's not so bad, actually."
He tilted his head and smiled. He twisted off another two caps to another two whiskeys. "So, what's the story with Kevin? How did you guys meet? What was his spectacular line?"
"Really? Did you have to bring his stupid cheating name up? I had a good few minutes not thinking about him," I laughed then gave a long sigh. "We uh, met at a party, through mutual friends… there was no special line. He kind of just planted himself in my life. What about you and Sophia? Was she your girlfriend?"
"No. We just..."
I looked away embarrassed. He didn't act like the situation bothered him too much, but a guy's ego is a fragile thing, you never know how much truth they're telling you. "Gotcha."
"Excuse me," a gentleman dressed like a pilot greeted us as he moved into the front of the cabin. "Mr. Holt, as soon as we get clearance for the runway we'll be taking off."
James smiled and nodded, sitting down next to me. He raised a half-empty bottle of whiskey in the air and winked. "Thank you, Marco. We'll be back here discussing the mysteries of life with my old friend Mr. Jack Daniels if you need us."
Leaning back into the seat, shoulders relaxed, I laughed.
"Enjoy, sir. Just make sure all cellular devices are shut down before departure," he said before leaving.
Next to me, James pulled out his cellphone and I followed along, searching for how to put mine into airplane mode when another text from Kevin popped onto the screen. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone to think?
"Hey, you okay? Do I have to kick that phone's ass?" James asked.
My eyes shot up to his, wondering what he was talking about.
His hand reached out and a long, thick finger poked at my phone. A smile tugged at his lips. "You just looked like the phone was doing something offensive to you, like you were angry with it."
"Just another I love you and miss you from Kevin," I replied, shutting my phone off and chucking it into my bag.
James looked away, hesitated, and then looked back, shaking his head.
Whatever that meant.
"How you feeling with all this?" he asked.
Polishing off the rest of my drink, I offered a tight smile. "I'm just so humiliated. All the rumors going around make me want to crawl in a hole and die. I mean, there's one rumor that I had a threesome with them."
He flinched. "Where'd you hear that?" he asked.
"Evan," I snapped.
"Yeah, well he probably started the rumor," he said, stretching out his legs and getting more comfortable. "So what did happen? If you don't mind me asking."
"I was at my bachelorette party. We were supposed to spend the night at the Marriot, but we were so drunk we forgot to tell that to the limo driver, and I ended up stumbling drunk into my living room and there they were."
"That's horrible," he said with a genuine look of shock across his face.
"I'm going to have to disinfect my entire living room. It probably still lingers with sex stank. And let me tell you—it was disgusting, like pure ass sweat. Seriously, I reeled back in sheer terror from the smell alone." Yeah. I was pretty buzzed right there.
Laughter bellowed throughout the entire cabin of the airplane.
James Holt was laughing. Which just allowed my buzzed brain to think it was a good idea to continue.
"And dear God, the sight alone made me vomit up at least five rounds of drinks and that night's appetizer. Every light in my apartment was on. They drank a bottle of my wine, and they ate my Godiva chocolate. What kind of woman steals another woman's chocolate? And the Pogo stick sex, eww. Now, I have no problem with sexual experimentation and stuff, but what I have a problem with is stupidity. Am I talking too much?"
"No, keep going. You're amazingly funny when you're drunk," he chuckled.
"Thank you. I'm actually funny all the time, especially when I'm drunk, but I'm not quite drunk yet, but keep 'em coming, good sir. Anyway, back to stupidity. If you are stupid enough to believe that I wouldn't see that someone ate my beloved chocolate, that that wasn't going to eventually come to light, you are quite stupid. I'm not offended by the sex they had and the stank they let off. I'm offended by the theft of my fothermucking chocolate."
"Really?" he asked, leaning in closer.
"No, this hurts like hell," I said, rubbing at my chest.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Not your fault. But I just don't get it. Here's you and then there's Kevin. Does she have poor taste in men, or is she just a serial cocksucker? I mean he was the peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the shitty crust still on. Comfort food. Just a damn sandwich. You, you are the fillet mignon."
"I'm flattered, thank you." He laughed.
"With like those delicious baked red potatoes on the side," I continued.
"Do I come with vegetables?" he asked.
I nodded. "Dessert too."
James offered more alcohol. I graciously accepted.
"What did he say when he saw you?"
"He said it was all a mistake. Told me it was cold feet. That he was scared; wanted to have a last hurrah to see if I was the one. I don't want to forgive and forget. I want to hate him. The only word I kept thinking of was why. Why? In big bold letters. WHY? Why, why, why? I remember screaming it over and over at them. It was so humiliating. I needed a specific thing to blame, you know? The one reason that he thought it was okay to do what he did to me."
"Did he give you specific reasons besides cold feet?" he asked.
"A whole stupid list of them. And you want to know the best part?" I said, grabbing his arm. Those arms were no joke. It was like clutching steel. "The best part was that she stood there and listened. Drinking my favorite wine. Nibbling on my chocolate. Wearing my robe."
"Are you shitting me?" he asked.
"I shit you not," I answered.
"You're handling all of it well, I think."
"I disagree. I've been drunk ever since. The first day was the worst. Tears. Sobs. The whys. Oh, my gosh, the whys are the worst. They keep repeating in my head." I leaned in really close and looked him dead in the eye. "What the hell was so special about her that she was better than me?"
"I can't think of one thing," he whispered. "I can't, Lex, truly. She is a selfish person. I'll give you an example, okay? She was a vegetarian, so narcissistically she believed that everyone around her should be a vegetarian too. So when she'd go out and eat with people she'd ask them how their cow carcasses tasted, or if they knew eating pork was the closest thing to eating small, dead children."
I scrunched up my nose and laughed.
"I love eating meat and she always tried to ruin it. I'd get a rare steak, chew it slowly in front of her, and moo. People like her make you revert back to your worst adolescent behavior. Please say you eat meat."