Chapter 23
Miriam
Idid it.
For the first time in my adult life, I made a decision on a whim. I didn’t consult empirical data or well-researched plans months in advance. I gave myself permission to live in the moment and get out of the bubble of routine.
I’m flying to Vegas to spend the weekend with rugby players.
My departure was far from the Living Single finale, which was on TV last night.
Khadijah was a woman of habit who never veered from her life running Flavor.
I don’t have a boyfriend who showed up at my door to inspire a last-minute trip out of the country.
But I do have a friend who invited me to do more than deep-condition my hair and fold laundry this weekend.
Academia was always my excuse for not doing the unexpected.
So I packed the proper toiletries, ran through the pre-travel checklist for my house, and hopped into an airport taxi. Khadijah might have been comfortable leaving her house with only a purse and the underwear she had on, but I need extra clothes in case my pants snag on a door handle.
Marcela video called me to make me prove I was on my way to Sin City with the Buffalo Steel. Our flight left at seven and will touch down before midnight. Six hours and thirty-eight minutes is the total flight time, and it only took takeoff for the thrill to wear off.
“Breathe, Doe. You’ll crack the armrest if you squeeze it any tighter. Want me to sing to you again?” Antonio’s tone is playful, but he eyes me closely for signs I’ll jump out of the emergency exit.
“Negative.” Witnessing him attempt Usher’s falsetto in “Superstar” with a straight face and the pitch of a wild goat is a one-time experience.
Our friendship bracelets touch when he reaches for my hand to rub my protruding knuckles. It’s a weighted blanket on my nerves and kindle for a foreign sensation stoking embers to reignite.
“I like your bracelets. Mine too,” I say to the trio on Antonio’s wrist. He’s wearing the “Miriam BFF” one. Underneath is the “Buffalo Steel” bracelet the team made, and one that says “Be Happy” with different smiley faces.
“Good.” He nods. “You still got a baseball grip. Nervous?”
“Nope.”
He grins. “If you say so. Did you run through your pre-travel checklist?” His gaze sharpens, and his head tilts. He’s not making fun of me.
I follow his profile from his maroon beanie down to his bearded jaw. The detour to his heavy lower lip zeroes in on the slow bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.
Stop it.
“My checklist,” I blurt, drawing his brows together. My hands smooth invisible creases in my leggings. Traveling across the country in jeans is not a testimony. “I went through my checklist.”
“It’s a good system. I use it for away games and vacations,” he says, his focus swinging above my face. “I like this. Your hair twisted up.”
Oh.
My fingertips trace my pink and orange headwrap. I twist my hair and tie a scarf before bed. Nothing groundbreaking or fashion-forward, but it has Antonio staring. He does this more now, compliments my appearance. I always assumed he was being friendly. Now, I’m not so sure.
“Thank you.” I give him a curt nod and fight the urge to purr.
I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m hyperaware of him.
His scent.
The weight of his undivided attention.
The planes of muscle contouring his Henley.
The friction of his jeans as they rub against my leggings.
The change in altitude must be the culprit. That, or Antonio’s knee digging into mine.
Since graduating, a floodgate has opened that’s hard to close.
Sexual thoughts sprout like hot flashes, to the point I had a telehealth appointment with my doctor to weed out perimenopause.
My kitty vibrates at random times and could win a strongest-person competition dangling a car from between my legs.
Antonio excites my pulse every time I’m around him. Not every time, but enough. I guess it makes sense. He is the closest man in my life, and he’s a walking vessel of hallelujah.
“Doe. Did you hear what I said?”
“Hmm?” My teeth sink into my lip. His eyes are on me when I chance a glance. Capturing his attention shouldn’t intrigue me the way it does.
Stop.
We both blink away.
“I, uh, I said that I’m happy you came,” he stutters and clears his throat. His eyes ping-pong from the front of the cabin to the flight attendant light.
“Me too. You didn’t need to buy my ticket. First class is spacious but overpriced.”
Not that I’m complaining about complimentary champagne and a food menu that goes beyond cookies, pretzels, and canned drinks. It’s nice, but it wasn’t necessary.
“I told you, it’s part of your belated graduation gift and now a congrats about your future job. Did you reach out about the position?”
“I did.” A smile sprouts at the grin spreading across his face. “I spent the last two days looking into the organization and its efforts to make healthier food more accessible on the East Side. I start next week.”
Ms. Amber and Aanya possess a synergy that drew me in before their pitch. A power from multiple elements coming together to yield greater results than the sum of their individual capabilities.
That’s shared purpose, and I want in.
I blow out a long breath. “I hope I know what I’m doing with the kids.”
“You will,” Antonio says with finality. “Now we celebrate.” He leans against the seat and pats my hand.
“And first class was necessary. I didn’t want the guys overwhelming you.
All the starters plus the seven reserves are coming.
I’m already a handful. Multiply me by twenty-one, and you’d be looking for a parachute. ”
I push the boulder that is his bicep. “You’re not that bad. Your team, either.”
The guys are rowdy at times, with the random cheers and hollering, but it’s been fun being around them. Kendrick is here. So is Bread, who hasn’t stopped poking his head through the barrier that separates first class from the main cabin to ask for snacks.
One thing is super clear: The team listens to their captain. They respect him.
“You’ve settled down,” I point out. Three years ago, Antonio would’ve flown to Vegas from the wing of the plane.
He scratches his chin. “I have, haven’t I? I feel a responsibility to set a good example. That crazy shit doesn’t excite me much, anyway. Been there, done that, you know?”
“I don’t,” I laugh, taking in the lone reading light that illuminates our cabin. I should’ve brought my book. “The wildest thing I’ve ever done is come on this trip. I still don’t know where we’re staying, which is grounds for a private meltdown under normal circumstances.”
“I canceled my reservation and got a suite in a different hotel.”
“Antonio. I didn’t ask for that, and I don’t need to be treated with kid gloves.” I adjust my glasses so he can see how serious I am. I’m tired of people treating me like a child for lacking certain experiences. “I’m thirty-four, not two,” I say, my tone clipped. “I won’t break.”
“I know.” His voice is a soft stroke as he takes my hand. “I changed the reservation because a K-pop band is performing at the original hotel.”
“Oh.” I take in our joined hands. His swallows mine, but they fit.
“You never needed kid gloves, Doe. Your comfort will always be my priority. Got it?”
I nod. “Got it. Thank you again for this weekend. I appreciate it…and you.”
His eyes drop to my lips, jolting my heart to pound against my chest. I’m lightheaded, a symptom of being thirty-five thousand feet in the air, not feelings I shouldn’t have for my best friend.
Our stare is a series of seconds lost in time until a psst breaks us apart.
Antonio chuckles. “You’re being summoned.”
My snort morphs into a laugh when I see Bread. Only his head is visible through the black partition.
“Maid Miriam,” he whispers. “What you got for me?”
“Here.” I hand him a half-empty bottle of champagne.
He takes it with a smile and, if I’m not mistaken, tears in his eyes. “You’re cool people.” He bows before the partition closes.
“We got extra booze!” Bread announces to the players. “What do we say?”
“Thank you, Maid Miriam!” the main cabin shouts.
A flight attendant stomps by and gives me the stink eye. “Please refrain from sharing your items with the other cabin, or you’ll lose your privileges.”
The cheers do a record scratch when she asks for ID. They’re all over twenty-one. I thought it was okay.
Oops.
“Troublemaker.” Antonio smirks before dozing off.