10. Paige
CHAPTER TEN
Paige
The wheels of my suitcase clank along the airport floor loudly as I rush to find our gate.
It’s a weathered, gray suitcase that has seen better days, but I don’t really need a new one.
The automated female voice announces the next departure over the speakers, as tens of people drag their own luggage to their gates.
Travel isn’t something I do much of, not anymore. A grinning couple walks by hand in hand, and my eye twitches. That used to be me. Now, instead of wondering what amazing destination they’re heading to, I wonder if she’s the only woman in his life.
I spent the week writing another column.
Finally, I was able to try out a toy. Opting for the most familiar one, I tried the realistic-looking dildo.
It was cold and too thick, and not even copious amounts of lubricant helped me enjoy it.
But it made for a good piece. I sent it in early so I could enjoy vacation, and Martha called me the next day, thrilled.
She loved the piece so much that she wants it to be a weekly issue for the magazine’s website.
More columns mean more money for me, which is great, but it also means that I have five days to write the next one.
And I’m spending those five days in the Bahamas with my whole family, Dad’s latest gold-digger, and Ryan.
My heart beats fast as I try to adjust to the idea.
Going for maximum stealth, I packed the smallest toy from the bunch and wrapped it in pretty much all of my clothes.
One can never be too careful. Still, the thought makes my cheeks heat.
I must look guilty because a TSA agent takes a second look at me, his gaze following me until I reach the rest of my party.
“Here she is,” Emma says with a bright smile.
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have picked you up,” Dad comments, grabbing his own suitcase and entering the line for the security check.
I didn’t want you to handle my suitcase, knowing what’s in it, so I took a taxi. I can’t tell him that, though, so I simply smile. My eyes glance at Ryan, just in time to catch him rolling his gray ones at me.
There’s no doubt I was a bitch that day at dinner. After some thinking, I planned to apologize, because even though I think what I said is true, it was rude. I’m not a rude person, but as he stands there, rolling his eyes at me, I realize he doesn’t deserve my apology.
Instead, I narrow my gaze, shooting him a glare. He’s dressed casually, in gray sweats and a white t-shirt. Kim approaches, pulling me into another one of her hugs, and stopping me from focusing on the way Ryan’s shirt shows off his biceps.
“I’m so glad you could join us,” she tells me.
I didn’t have much of a choice is what I want to say, yet I plaster another smile.
“You all have your boarding passes and passports?” Dad asks.
Ryan murmurs a “Yup” while the rest of us nod.
It took me some time until I found my passport buried and forgotten under a ton of paperwork.
I trail to the back of the group, hoping to be the last for security check, but Ryan ruins my plan by stepping in after me.
He gives his thick beard a lazy scratch, and I turn to the front, hoping to be graceful enough not to enter another altercation with him.
It’s not who I typically am. My signature response is always flight, never fight, but he rubs me the wrong way.
I hate the fact that he saw my vulnerable moments back when I didn’t even know his name.
I hate the fact that he’s probably scheming with his mother to squeeze as much money as possible out of my dad.
And, most of all, I hate that I still find him attractive.
The line in front of us moves, so I take two steps forward, a male voice stopping me in my tracks. “Please remove your belts and watches, and separate your electronics into the provided bins.”
A cold sweat appears on my face in mere seconds as I realize my mistake. The little sex toy I’ve brought has a battery. That means it’s electronic, right? Still, they can’t be forcing people to air out their sex toys for the world to see, can they?
They’re the fucking TSA; they can do worse things than that.
My breath quickens as I take another shaky step forward.
It’ll be fine, Paige. It’s a small battery, like the one an electric toothbrush has. They won’t even notice it. Fuck, I hope so.
I separate my phone and laptop into the gray bins, placing my jacket and sweatshirt alongside them. I pass through the metal detector, but my luggage’s trip on the conveyor belt feels endless. My bag finally reaches the scanner when an agent approaches me, her thick curls bouncing as she walks.
“Ma’am, which bag is yours?”
My vision is blurry as I look at her. “Sorry?”
“The bag. Which one is yours?”
I point a shaky finger at my suitcase, and she reaches the agent checking the scanner, her hand perched on the taser at her hip. They exchange words, glancing at me every few seconds, before she comes back to me.
“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to step here to the front and open your suitcase.” Her voice travels to my ears through a thick fog of buzzing.
“What?”
She motions her arm to her colleague. “We need you to open the suitcase.”
My feet follow her of their own accord. “But I…” Before I finish my thought, we reach the second agent, who narrows his eyes at me. My mouth is now fully dry, my tongue trying to wet my dehydrated lips.
The female agent gestures to my suitcase, and I hurry to open the partly rusted zipper. From the corner of my eye, I see the image of the scanner.
“We need to see this,” the male agent says, zooming in on a black clump smack dab in the middle of my stuff.
This can’t be happening.
I glance to the front, checking where the rest of my family is. They have luckily all passed security and are heading to the gate. I let out a breath before remembering there is one more member of our party. And he’s right behind me, witnessing everything.
Our gazes lock for a moment before I snap back to my suitcase, just in time for the agent to pull away all the layers of carefully placed clothing and find a small velvet pouch. Her gloved hand squeezes it with suspicion, while her colleague keeps his hand on his taser.
Please. Please don’t pull it out.
With a questioning glance at me, she loosens the top of the pouch.
All hope leaves me as she extracts the pink toy from the pouch, her expression transforming into one of relief.
Her colleague shakes his head with a playful smirk, like this is just another funny work story.
A snort breaks free from behind me, making my teeth grind together.
“All clear,” the agent says, placing the toy back inside the pouch and doing her best to put my stuff back where it was.
It’s too late, though. The cat’s out of the bag.
My legs are wooden, my cheeks burning up as I attempt an apology. “S-Sorry. I forgot to place it with electronics.”
The agent chuckles, her mood visibly lighter. “That’s okay, honey. Toys don’t need to go with electronics. But you were so obviously stressed and that lump inside your suitcase was looking suspicious, so we had to check.”
This was all for nothing? This humiliation I’ve endured was all for nothing? Still, I reply with a simple, “Of course.”
My hands are shaky as I collect my things. By the time I’m done, Ryan has already collected his stuff and is staring at me with a teasing smirk.
“I don’t want to hear it,” I grit out in passing. Then, a thought pops into my head, making me stop and push a finger into his chest. “If you say a word about this to anyone on this trip, I swear to God I. Will. Make. You. Pay.”
Instead of his eyes widening with fear, his smirk turns into a full-on grin. “No worries. Your sex-toy addiction is safe with me.” A smile is audible in his voice, and I let out a literal growl.
My eyes dart left and right, checking if someone heard him, and realize we’re alone. “I’m not kidding. Shut it.”
He pretends to lock his lips, forcing me into an eye roll. This is going to be a long week.