44. “Sorry” - Buckcherry
“Sorry” - Buckcherry
Heath
Are airports always this crowded? God, this is a fucking nightmare. How in the world am I supposed to find her in this mess?
I scan every face I can, but there must be tens of thousands of people here. I couldn’t look at each one if I had all day. Which I don’t. My flight leaves in three minutes. I dodge other travelers as I run toward the terminal. At least I don’t have luggage slowing me down.
The gate looms ahead of me. I can already see that the door is closed, the seats in the waiting area all empty. But I still slap my palms on the attendant’s counter and beg her to let me on the plane.
“I’m sorry, sir.” She keeps her eyes focused on her computer screen. “They are already preparing for takeoff.”
“But I have a ticket.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the now crumpled piece of paper. “First class.”
She doesn’t even bother glancing at it. “I’m really sorry. There’s nothing I can do. They can get you on a different flight at the ticket counter. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She sidesteps me and walks away.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I slump into the nearest chair. It’s stupid to feel like I’ve missed her by a matter of minutes when she was probably already in England this morning. Now I’ll have to wait until tonight to fly out. By the time I reach Oxford, she’ll be cloistered away and able to avoid me for the rest of her life.
I try calling her once more, but she’s either blocked me again or turned her phone off. I lean forward and dangle my cell between my knees. It feels pointless to sit here, but I don’t have the energy to get up, let alone walk back across the giant concourse to the ticket counter.
After a few minutes of sulking, I force myself to rise. Nothing’s going to change if I stay sitting here. I better get my shit in order if I am to stand a chance of getting Walker back.
I head toward the front of the airport. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything today. I’ll get my ticket changed and then grab some food.
I keep my eyes focused on where I’m headed, not bothering to meet the eyes of the people around me. It’s only hearing my name called that snaps me from my trance.
“Heath!” she says again. I recognize the voice. I also recognize that this is nothing but a hallucination.
I turn in the direction of the sound. I blink rapidly to clear the mirage, but she’s still there, still running toward me, a humongous suitcase at her heels. Is anyone else seeing this, or have I officially gone mad?
“Heath!” There’s a note of desperation in Walker’s voice, like she’s been trying to get to me and had to put up a fight. She’s closer now, only a lounge of massage chairs between us.
People are starting to look. They look at her, then back at me, as if trying to decide if this beautiful girl is actually headed toward me.
I’m still trying to figure it out myself when she launches herself into my arms. Her trunk clatters to the floor behind her, but she pays no mind.
She wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.
I stagger backward with the unexpected momentum. I’ve never felt anything better in my life. A thousand of the best waves couldn’t rival this moment. I bury my face in her neck, in that divine coconut scent, and inhale deeply, filling my lungs with it, with her.
I don’t know how long we stand like this, just that it isn’t long enough. I could hold her like this for eternity, and it still wouldn’t be enough. I let my hands roam her back, wanting to convince myself that this is, in fact, happening and not a figment of my imagination.
She feels like a million dreams in one, both everything I ever hoped for and all the things I was too scared to. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper into her neck.
Walker’s hold on me tightens.
“I’m sorry for hurting you.” I increase the pressure of my arms so she can feel how sorry I am. “I’m sorry for not being the man you deserve. That I tried so hard to push you away. That I disappointed you.”
She gives an answering half sob. Her face rubs against the skin of my neck, and strands of her hair catch in the stubble on my jaw, which I didn’t take the time to shave off this morning. I want to bury myself in her and never come up for air.
People are starting to notice us. A tiny woman with white hair nudges the man beside her and smiles at us. A teenager snaps a picture with her phone. A businessman on a call steps around us and shoots me an annoyed look.
I scan for a place where we can have some privacy, but we’re smack-dab in the middle of the huge concourse, people streaming around us on both sides. “Walker,” I say quietly. “We’re making a scene.”
“I don’t care,” she mumbles.
“Now I know I must be hallucinating, because you never want to make a scene.”
“I’m sorry for leaving,” she says. “Again.”
I rub brisk circles on her back. “You don’t need to apologize for that. I drove you away both times.”
My neck is growing damp from her tears. “Hey.” I shift her in my arms so I can get a glimpse of her face. She keeps it buried in my shoulder. “As much as I love holding you right now, I’d like to kiss you even more.”
She sniffs loudly, then moves to slide down. As she brushes against my cock, it springs up to remind me that it also has an opinion on this situation. Her face is blotchy from crying, and I take it with both hands.
“Hey.” I wipe her cheeks with my thumbs. “Don’t cry.”
A hiccup escapes between her lips. “I’m sorry for ever letting you think you’re not enough.” Her arms slip around my neck, and she drags her body against me. “You’ve always been more than enough for me.”
I capture her mouth then, staking my claim on her here and now.
She opens beneath me, letting me in to explore, to conquer, to ravish.
A tiny groan slips out of her as I flick my tongue over the roof of her mouth.
I hope she can tell how sorry I am and how hard I intend to work to earn her trust in the future.
She responds by tilting her head, proving that she trusts me, that she’s willing to put the past behind us. Her hands are on my chest, buried in the fabric of my T-shirt. I move my lips to the side of her neck, nipping and biting the sensitive skin there.
“Heath,” she whimpers. “I need you inside me.”
“Soon, baby.” I pull her earlobe between my teeth and suck.
“Now. Like right now.”
I let out a surprised laugh. “Babe, we’re in the middle of the airport.”
“There’s always the bathroom,” she says before kissing me again .
My cock surges in response. Bathroom indeed. I pull back and immediately miss her mouth. “You sure?”
“Please,” she whispers against my lips. “I need you so badly.” She flicks her tongue across mine, and I’m a dead man.
“Okay.” I drop one more kiss on her lips before backing away. “But we’ll have to be strategic about it.”
I pull up a map of the airport on my phone. There’s a public restroom down the hall, away from all the foot traffic. I grab her trunk in one hand and her palm in the other. “Come on.”