The crisp air filled my lungs as I packed two weeks’ worth of clothes into the Honda. Although Little V didn't do anything wrong, and I loved her, I couldn't stand the thought of driving that car. I didn't want to think about Finn. I'd rather think about nothing, put up that wall, and continue forward.
Yawn after yawn came, and I stopped by the little coffee shop on the way out and grabbed a mocha for me and a black coffee for Luke, just the way he liked it.
When I rolled up to his house, he opened the garage, and I parked inside. Like a gentleman, Luke helped me load my bags into the trunk of his Volvo.
"Morning," he said, his voice still raspy from waking.
"Morning. I got you a coffee." I handed him the cup, and he wrapped both hands around it.
"And it's still warm. That's what I call service. Thanks." He opened the door for me. The heated seats warmed my body.
"All set?"
I nodded and yawned.
The garage door closed and we were on our way to the airport.
Moonlight barely peeked over the mountainside, and the thought of going away excited me.
"What are you thinking about?" Luke asked.
"Just admiring the scenery. It's not something I am used to seeing yet."
"Yeah, your part of Texas is mostly flat, except for the bridges."
"That's the only downfall I think. But hey, we've got plenty of swampy waters and mosquitos."
We continued with small talk, as if nothing had happened between us. Once at the airport, we unloaded our bags, and made our way through security. I grabbed my passport from the front of my suitcase and then placed it, along with my plane ticket, in my pocket. We had an hour to kill so I leaned back in the plastic chair and closed my eyes. Unable to get comfortable, I rested my head on Luke's shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around me.
"Did you ever see Titanic?" I asked.
"James Cameron? Yeah. Who hasn't seen that movie?"
"The end made me cry. I never got enough of the young Leonardo DiCaprio. Like I had such a mega huge crush on him, posters in my bedroom, and I even signed DiCaprio behind my name as practice. I had the whole movie almost memorized verbatim."
Luke laughed. "Really?"
"He was an artist. You know, Jack."
"Yeah. He was."
I looked into Luke's eyes, and he swallowed.
"Would you paint me like that one day? The same setting as Jack and Rose."
His breath tingled on my skin, and my heart pounded in my chest.
"You'll always be my Rose, Jennifer. And if it would make you happy, then yes."
I laid my head back down on his shoulder. Only the armrest separated our bodies.
It was easy and comfortable being with Luke, and at that moment I was the happiest I had been in a while.
Fourteen
Luke patted me awake after I had fallen asleep on him. I would have four hours to rest until the flight connected in New York. We walked through the tunnel, and boarded the plane. The window seat had my name written all over it. Before we took off, all the rules and regulations blared over the loudspeaker. Buckle your seatbelts, blah blah blah, then the plane lifted and soared above the ground. Being above everyday life as it continued down below was an odd feeling. Almost as if I were detached from the real world, viewing it from a bird’s eye, in a sense.
Luke leaned over my body and glanced out. Rusty mountains and desert surrounded us. I moved my body back in the seat and closed my eyes.
"I will never get tired of looking out the window of a plane."
"Me either," I said and looked at Luke.
He leaned back in his seat, pulled out a sketchpad, charcoal, and drew. Positioning his pencil at an angle, he drew dots and small lines that were followed by shading. Then an eye, eyelashes, and eyebrows were formed. With his thumb, he smudged lines, then continued drawing lips and hair. Although my eyelids were heavy, I watched him work. The way he would close his eyes and reopen them, then close them again and reopen them, made me admire him even more for being able to draw from memory. Luke was completely involved in his work, despite the crying baby in the background or the chatter a few seats over, focused entirely on the drawing. He bit his lip and finished the picture with an eraser. Once complete, he looked down at it, then over at me with a grin.
"How's this?" he asked.
The picture was of me sleeping.
"What you're trying to say is you could draw me exactly how Jack drew Rose?"
He laughed. "I could."
"That eraser thing, it's neat."
"It's actually called a blender. Helps smear the charcoal and emphasize the shading."
"How long have you been doing this, drawing and painting?"
"Since I was seven. My mother insisted we find our creative side at an early age, so she enrolled us in art and music classes. I always loved to draw. Painting came before music. Violin. I love it."
"Really? You play the violin?" I couldn't stop thinking about the night that he was going to make me his, and the violinist that played during dinner. Every piece of that night had meant something to him. It was perfectly planned, and I was too stupid to see it.
"You said we. Finnley took classes as well?"
"Oh yeah. He can draw too. He's extremely talented. Better than me, I think. A natural. He can cook, and play the piano. He has many secret talents."
If Luke only knew…
The thought of Finn having that much creativity… just, blew my mind. I couldn't imagine it. But other than that, Finnley was a closed book; a cliffhanger that I would never have the full story of and it frustrated me. But then again, learning about him was half the fun of it all, right?
After repositioning his body, Luke closed the sketchpad. "Did you tell him you were coming with me?"
"Haven't talked to anyone but you since yesterday afternoon."
"He's going to be pissed, you know."
"I know."
The thought of it made me uneasy. When I sucked in a deep breath, Luke grabbed my hand and squeezed.
"When I have a chat with him, I'm going to tell him you confessed your undying love for me and we ran away together to get married in Paris."
I laughed. "Can't wait to hear his reaction. Promise to have him on speaker when you tell him."
Luke let out a yawn. So did I. He stopped the airline attendant and asked for a blanket, and I yawned again. Why were they so contagious? She brought a thin blanket over to us, and he plopped it over our legs. The warmth relaxed me and together we drifted to sleep as we soared through the clouds.
We woke as the plane landed. I knew I had sleepy eyes, and so did he. When we were allowed, we grabbed our carry-on bags and made our way off of the plane. If Vegas had been cold, New York was freezing.
Blankets of white surrounded us, and the snow steadily fell. We grabbed our bags and checked them in for our connecting flight.
A little restaurant beckoned us forward.
"Hungry?"
"Starving," I said.
We walked inside, ordered a few waffles, and more coffee. I needed a gallon of it.
"Are you going to call Finn before we board?" he asked over a hot mug.
"No."
Once we were finished, we made our way to the waiting area where the attendants boarded the plane. In six hours, I would officially be in another country, viewing a different set of bright lights and fast paced atmosphere.
Luke stopped before entering the hangar and finished typing on his phone, then stuck it in his pocket and continued with me. I might be jetlagged, tired, and hungry for a real meal, but I didn't give a shit about any of it. The thoughts of being somewhere else would fuel the flight, and that was enough to keep me going.
FINNLEY