38. Dylan
Chapter thirty-eight
Dylan
“Dylan, stop fidgeting. You’re giving me anxiety,” Dee insists from beside me.
“That makes two of us.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re not serious.”
“Maybe you should sit on my lap. Might make me feel better.”
She laughs, then remembers where we are. Looking around to make sure no one heard me. “You’re going to get us caught before we even leave Columbus.”
My knee continues to bounce as I pull the seat belt strap tightly against my hips. Again.
She doesn’t miss the movement, her brows furrowing. “You’re actually anxious.”
I let loose a breath. “A lot of people have flying anxiety. Perfectly normal.” The plane lurches forward, beginning its trek to the runway. I love Bec and Aiden, but this trip to their joint bachelor-bachelorette party might kill me.
My stomach pitches, and I swear to fuck, if I lose my lunch all over my lap next to Dee, I’m going to lock myself in the bathroom until we make it to Mexico.
“I don’t care about a lot of people, I care about you,” Dee whispers, her hand finding my thigh, giving a reassuring squeeze.
I focus on the feel of her palm, the pressure of her touch, and take a deep breath. Then I picture her perfect tits bouncing as she rides me into oblivion. I laugh, imagining her face if only she knew what I was thinking.
“What are you laughing at? Are you actually scared, or are you fucking with me?” I laugh harder.
“Dylan,” she scolds, but there’s no venom to it, and she starts to laugh with me, her hand leaving my thigh to slap at my shoulder.
I grab her hand and put it back on my thigh, not willing to let go of her just yet.
“I’m scared. But I pictured a certain someone’s certain somethings jiggling around above me…and it helped. It was a nice image. Very calming. Or at the very least distracting.”
“Tits. Tits are getting you through takeoff?” She can’t make it through the question with a straight face, and she bites her lip, attempting to look annoyed. And failing.
“Who doesn’t love a good pair of tits?”
“A great pair,” she corrects.
“A perfect pair,” I agree.
The older gentleman on my other side clears his throat and adjusts in his seat. With a lot of fanfare.
“Maybe we should stop talking about tits,” she whispers. “Here.” She slides a hand into her purse, handing me a piece of gum before unwrapping one for herself with one hand, because I’m not giving up her other hand, still situated on my thigh with my hand over top of hers. “It’ll help.”
“I thought this was debunked,” I say.
“Then why are you chewing it?”
“So I have minty fresh breath when you take me to the Mile High Club.”
“As if.” She scoffs. “I’m not interested in doing acrobatics above a pooper.”
I nearly swallow my gum, coughing into my fist. “Jesus.”
“Besides, I can’t end up on the no-fly list. I still have a lot of the world to see.”
“Oh yeah, where do you want to go?” I ask.
She rests her head on my shoulder, her gaze locked on the window as we roll down the runway, speed increasing. “I want to go everywhere. I’ve seen so little. I don’t want to be too far from the people I love for too long, but I want to see more.”
“Then let’s go.”
She looks at me, stunned. “You’d travel with me?”
We have had exactly zero conversations about what is going on between us. But traveling with Dee? Yeah, I know I’d like that. Minus the flight.
I shrug. “I’ll have to buy some earplugs to block out the snoring, but you’ll have to help me through every flight. Seems like we’ll both have small concessions to make, but I think we’d still have a great time.”
“I do not snore.”
“Emi didn’t warn me how scary it was,” I tease.
“You’re an ass.”
“At times it was even cute. Like a little bunny with a cold.”
She threatens to pull her hand away at the exact moment I feel my stomach lurch out of my goddamn gut. The plane lifts off the ground and it’s a miracle I don’t hurl breakfast all over my lap.
The hand she was pulling away grips me tighter, her eyes locked on mine as she says. “Well, if I’m a bunny with a cold, then you’re a bear who needs a nose strip.”
A few minutes later, after takeoff ends and we’ve leveled out on a smooth course for Mexico to join Bec and Aiden to celebrate the end of their bachelor and bachelorette days, Dee and I are still throwing around teasing barbs and taunts before she asks, “So how are we going to get through this trip without spilling the beans to anyone?”
“Should we keep it a secret?” I tense slightly, knowing we haven’t talked about this yet. What it would mean to tell our friends that we’re…whatever we are.
“At least on the trip,” Dee says. “It’s about Bec and Aiden this week, remember?”
I nod. “Right.”
I’m going to have to stare at Dee in a bathing suit all fucking week and not say or do anything about it. And I saw the ones she packed. Tiny stringy, barely there decoration on her perfect curves.
“But you’re rooming alone,” she says, letting the thought linger between us.
“I am,” I confirm, trying not to sound too eager. I’d rather our friends know what’s going on between us and enjoy the trip with her by my side, no second thoughts about who sees us, but I’ll take Dee any way she’ll have me.
“What if I stop by tonight, after Abby falls asleep?”
“Then we’ll have to hope our room isn’t next to anyone we know.”
“Plan on being loud, do you?” she asks.
“I plan on making you loud.”
“I plan to make you work for it.”
“I expect nothing less.”
“Oh, and I almost forgot.” She starts riffling through the contents of her bag again.
“When I ran to the store for some last-minute travel items, I found this.” She hands me a small tube.
“It’s the one you like, right? The lotion you keep by our sink?
I saw it and got worried that maybe you didn’t have a travel size.
I didn’t want your hands to get dry and hurt while we’re away. ”
Dee continues talking, steering the conversation toward our schedule for the week.
The plans mostly involve relaxing on the beach or at the pool.
My brain is only able to process about half of what she’s saying, because I’m still staring at the lotion in my hand.
The lotion my dermatologist recommended when my compulsive handwashing caused my skin to crack and bleed because it was so dry.
Such a small thing that means so much.
My heart hammers behind my sternum. The sunrise in the distance bathes Dee in glowing warm light. I don’t think I’ll ever see sunshine beyond her eyes again. This incredible woman shines brighter than any star.
A deep sense of gratitude drains any remaining tension from my body as our flight carries on, Dee chatting happily at my side.
Gratitude for whatever circumstances forced me to see this friendship we’ve shared in a new light…
and realize all it’s worth. To wake me up.
For me to realize I don’t ever want to let her go.