18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Apparently, in Alden’s world, getting fries is code for hopping on a plane. He’s been unusually quiet the whole time, lost in thought, as we wait on the runway; the loud hum of the plane engines is already making my ears pop. And I’m sweating through my shirt. I definitely shouldn’t have taken this fucking bet.
“You look like you need a drink,” Alden says, startling me.
He’s walking up the aisle casually, his phone glued to his hand. He has a mug of something in the other one. My eyes narrow, staring it down. The thought of him drinking this early in the morning really annoys me.
“No, thank you,” I bite out. “Unlike you, I don’t need a buzz right now.”
Alden stops, and his arm comes to rest on the seat above my head. I stretch my neck, glaring at him. His whole body shakes with laughter. It pours out of him.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, taken aback because I don’t think I’ve heard him laugh before, at least not like this.
“ You .” His smile evens out, but there’s still a trace of humour. “It’s just coffee, Monroe.” The tips of my ears heat, and I kick myself for jumping to conclusions.
Alden’s next sentence comes out softer, like he hasn’t said the words before. He swallows, looking away. “I haven’t had a drink in eight days.”
“Really? Tha-that’s great.” I trip over my words.
Alden’s fingers flirt with the back of my neck, and I almost lean against them. “Would you like some?”
I nod, not confident enough in my ability to speak. Alden disappears, coming back minutes later with another mug. He hands it to me.
His eyes follow my movements, watching me as I take a sip. “Is it too sweet? I knew I should have just asked you what you take in it.”
“No.” I eye the mug and then him. “It’s exactly how I take it.”
Alden’s smirk of approval makes my stomach ripple, and before I can make an inappropriate comment about how coffee beans come out of a cat’s anus to distract me, he takes a seat across from me.
But I don’t let him off the hook that easily. “This isn’t what I thought you had in mind when you told me you were going to get me the best fries I’ve ever eaten.”
He looks up from his phone, the smallest glimpse of lightness in his expression. “I’m a man capable of exceeding your expectations, I know.” I roll my eyes. “What did you think was going to happen when I told you my driver was coming to pick you up?”
“I just thought he was kidnapping me as part of some sick sex game you came up with.”
His lips part with a soft chuckle. “Your first thought would be how to get me back in bed.” He tsks. “But don’t think you can use me to fulfill your mile-high club fantasy. I’m not that easy.”
An obnoxious laugh erupts from my chest, making me lose my breath. “What makes you think I’m not already a member?” I raise a brow.
Alden bends forward, his knee brushing against mine under the table. His eyes dart across my face, his jaw clenching. “Because you don’t strike me as the type.”
I roll my eyes playfully, but my chest burns.
“Are you?” I ask, volleying his observation.
Alden’s head is down, reading something on his phone. He’s distracted. “Am I what?”
“A part of the mile-high club?”
I can’t believe I just, in no uncertain terms, asked Alden about his previous sexual experiences. Someone kill me now.
His head snaps up, eyes shining. “No. But there’s a first time for everything.”
My breathing becomes strenuous, like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the plane. I look around, muttering, “I can’t even think about that right now.”
Alden pockets his phone, now solely focused on me. “And why is that?”
I steel myself, clenching my jaw until it aches. “This might not be the best time to tell you, but I’ve never been on a private plane before.” I laugh nervously. “Actually, I haven’t been on any plane.”
He looks at me curiously. “Really?”
I shrug. “Work takes up most of my time. I just never got around to it.”
“But what’s the point of spending your life working so hard if you can never enjoy it?”
Alden’s question is innocent enough, but it robs me of whatever joy I had before.
“Not all of us can be billionaires like you.”
His movements stop, and he looks at me head-on. “It’s not about being a billionaire, Monroe. It’s about taking the small moments and enjoying them while you can.”
I fidget, crossing one leg over the other. Alden is still looking at me, his brows furrowed.
“Does this fancy plane of yours have those brown paper bags in case I throw up?”
Alden exhales heavily through his nose, like he has more to say about the issue, but he concedes. Much to my relief.
“Under your seat.” He watches me as I paw at the underside of the cream, expensive-looking seat, finally pulling out the puke bag. “You don’t look like you’ve never flown before. You’re not freaking out or hyperventilating.”
I fan the bag open; the paper makes an awful crinkling sound that has my nerves coiling tighter. “I prefer to do my freaking out on the inside, like any sane person.”
“We have that in common,” Alden comments offhandedly. I want to address what he just said, but he brushes past it. “Your eyes are bulging out of their sockets.” He points out, like it’s helpful at all.
I look around anxiously, suddenly aware of our impending takeoff. That this plane will actually lift off the ground and be in the air. Alarm pierces my chest.
Trying to change the subject, I say, “For a world-class grump, you’re pretty good at laughing at my expense.” I spin the ring on my right hand restlessly.
Alden covers his mouth with his hand, but his shoulders are still shaking. “I just didn’t expect you to be such a nervous flyer.”
I blink. “Why not?” Nausea bubbles up my throat.
“Because you’re so fearless, I didn’t think anything scared you.” Sincerity laces each word, and I’m feeling every bit more wary. Nobody has ever called me fearless. He leans forward again. “You’re seriously getting pale. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Shut up,” I scold. “You’re not funny.”
Alden shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. “I wasn’t trying to be.”
A loud, terrifying shriek makes me jump, and I clutch the arm of the chair in a death grip.
He’s silent for a minute, just watching me before there’s a shrill ding. Alden clicks on his seatbelt. “That was for the seatbelt sign. It means you need to put your seatbelt on.”
I give him a searing look. “I got that.” I struggle against the seatbelt, tugging it as hard as I can, panicking when nothing works. “It’s not—I think it’s stuck.” Alden sighs, undoes his belt, and comes over to me. “What are you doing? You’re not supposed to do that. You’ll get in trouble for not listening to the sign.”
“I think I’ll be okay. I do have some pull with the staff.”
“Oh, right, yeah,” I say, apparently losing all knowledge of the English language in one fell swoop.
Alden’s hands replace mine, and I let him take over. He fiddles with the belt for a second, concentration painting his features, before it eventually snaps into place. He holds my eyes as he tightens it, and my body rocks from the sudden thrust. His eyes don’t leave mine as he leans down slightly, and I think he’s about to kiss me, but he only tosses the brown bag I must’ve dropped onto my lap.
He winks. “Just in case.”
That had no right to be as hot as it was.
I hum nervously as Alden sits back down, fastening himself in.
“I could’ve done that myself,” I tell him after some time.
A different sound rings, new but still terrifying, and I brace myself. I feel like I’m going to die of a heart attack from the anxiety rather than from the plane going down. But when I hear the captain’s voice over the speaker, I relax.
“I know you could have done it yourself, but I wanted to make sure it was secure.” Alden smiles, and my pulse spikes for an entirely different reason now. And then, he ruins everything. “If it’s not tight enough, and we hit turbulence, you could shoot straight up into the overhead compartment.”
My face drains. “You’re getting your rocks off by torturing me, is that it?” Alden bites his cheek, trying not to lose his composure. I want to lunge across the table. “Why would you tell me that? Why on Earth would you put that in my head seconds before we take off?”
If I was in a less anxious state of mind, I might appreciate Alden’s easy smile and how his eyes sparkle when he looks at me. Or how relaxed he seems. But I can’t.
“Do you want something a little stronger than coffee? Champagne maybe? Would that help you calm down?” He pauses, assessing me. “A Xanax might be better, actually.”
“He’s a drug mule and a comedian now.”
“I wear many hats,” he jokes, his smile all teeth. Alden’s fingers trace my knuckles. “You’ll be okay, I promise.”
I can feel my whole body loosen at those words. His words. He says them with such conviction that I believe him. Instead of ruining the moment, I choose to look out the window, fully aware that Alden is still stroking my hand, trying, in his own way, to calm me down. The plane moves, the tarmac fading behind us when our speed picks up.
The building pressure makes my stomach go into freefall. So, I shut my eyes, thinking it’s a better option than watching this plane lift off the ground.
I don’t know how long I’ve had my eyes sealed shut, but I hear Alden’s voice. “Open your eyes, Monroe, and look out the window.”
With my eyes still closed, I shake my head. “I don’t want to see an engine on fire or a bird getting cut up in a propeller, so I’ll keep them closed. Thanks.”
I can almost hear his smile. “This plane doesn’t have any propellers, so I think the birds are safe.” He pauses, urging me to open my eyes. “Come on, you’re missing the view.”
Testing the waters, I open one eye. And see that Alden is already looking at me. He motions to the window, and I take in the view he’s talking about. My jaw nearly hits the floor when I see how far up we are and the clouds.
“Wow.”
“I knew you would like it,” Alden says matter-of-factly.
Everything seems to slow down as I continue to look at the clouds. My heart, my mind, time. I get lost in the stillness, forgetting for a second that I’m here with Alden, that we are actually on a plane together.
“We should be there soon.”
“I never asked.” I turn to him. “Where are we going?”
“New York.”
My lips part. “ Your New York?”
“The very one.” His smile is infectious.
“I’ve never been.”
“Do you still feel nauseous? I could ask the flight attendant for some crackers. Although—and don’t mock me for this—they might be some outrageous flavour like citrus, cranberry, and gouda.”
“No, thanks,” I say, shaking my head. “That sounds worse than my tragic escargot experience with Laryssa. We pigged out and then ended the night with two big pints of mint chip ice cream with gummy bears. Each.”
Alden chuckles. “I’m guessing that didn’t end well.”
I nod, a smirk forming as I recall the memory. “The French restaurant was inside a mall. That should’ve been our first sign. Not to paint too much of a gruesome picture, but we both ended up having food poisoning for a week. And the junk food finale didn’t help matters much, either.”
He grimaces but laughs. “That sounds awful. You need to experience French cuisine done right at least once in your life. Ideally, in France.”
“You say it like it’s so easy.”
“It could be.”
We hold each other’s gaze for another minute. But I look away, feeling like I’m burning up. The same ding as before sounds, and I unbuckle my seat.
“I’m going to stretch my legs before we land,” I announce.
I don’t wait for his response as I get up from the seat and walk to the bathroom. Locking myself in the small room, I hope some distance from Alden will help my heart slow down. Because right now, it’s beating into overdrive.
We landed without incident, which I’m eternally grateful for. Maybe humming the lyrics to Smoke on the Water really did give me some pull with the woman upstairs. And I only threw up once, ordering Alden to close his eyes while I had my moment. He didn’t need to see that. A town car was already waiting for us on the airstrip, making me think Alden made the arrangements when I thought he was using his phone for work. He sure is going through a lot of trouble to get me those fries.
“How do you look like that after a three-hour flight?” I gawk at Alden in the back seat of the town car. “It’s not humanly possible to look that good.” My hands flail around comically because he doesn’t even look the least bit mussed.
I have no luck flattening my hair. Bird nests are in, right?
His lips twitch. “I like it when you admit to yourself how attracted you are to me.”
For the umpteenth time, I roll my eyes and bite the inside of my cheek. “I’m also attracted to Nathan Fillion, so don’t jump to put yourself on that list so quickly.”
Alden looks baffled. “Nathan Fillion? Really? ”
“What can I say? I like ‘em older,” I joke. “Plus, have you seen him in Castle ? Talk about yum.”
His eyes rove over my body, his lips unfurling into a sensual smile. “That I knew. Explains why you have a thing for me.”
“Our age gap isn’t that big. What is it, like three years?”
Alden rubs his chin. “Try seven. I’m thirty-two, Monroe.”
I didn’t realize there was such a significant age gap between us. Not that it matters all that much.
“My god, you’re geriatric.”
Alden’s reaction is priceless as he looks at me. “Watch who you’re calling elderly. I’m older, but I’m no Nathan Fillion. That’s old .”
“You’re so defensive.”
“No, I’m just telling you the facts.” Alden’s eyes are trained on mine. “You should probably pick a better celebrity crush since I doubt a man his age could even get it up anymore.”
I snort, nearly choking on the saliva in my mouth. “Okay. I’ll pick someone else then. Since you want me to so badly.”
“Don’t do it for my benefit. That’s not what I meant.”
“How about someone like Jensen Ackles? Now, that is a man.” Teasing Alden like this brings me a certain joy I didn’t think I could get.
Alden grabs my chin gently. And forces me to look at him. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” I don’t give him an answer, but he searches my eyes. “I thought so. Pick whoever you want, Monroe, because at the end of the day, the only older man you’re going to be sleeping with is me.”
He holds my gaze for a second more before his fingers slide from my chin. Holy shit. My spine tingles from the intensity behind Alden’s words. He’s never shown any sign of being possessive before, but I must have touched a nerve.
I clear my throat and turn away, trying to hide my flushed face from him. “We could’ve just gotten a cab to wherever we’re going. Being in a town car makes it seem like we’re loaded or something.”
“I am loaded,” Alden says.
“But we don’t have to parade it around.” I rub at my chest. “Haven’t you ever heard of being subtle?”
“No, and I’m about to become even less subtle.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means”—he looks at me, pupils dilated—“that you’re not dressed for where we’re going. And as much as I adore those yoga pants and how you look in them…”—he bites his lip—“…you’re going to need to put on something a little less comfortable.”
“How much less comfortable?”
We’re dropped off outside an unassuming brick building with tinted windows. But when we enter, it’s a completely different story. Rows upon rows of shoes line the white marble walls, men on one side, women on the other. Racks of clothes that look like they cost more than a month of my rent fill every inch of the place. Purses, bags, pocket squares, sunglasses. This place has everything.
“Where exactly are we?” I ask, taking in my surroundings.
“The New York Atelier.”
Alden lags behind, like he’s watching me soak it all in.
“Why?”
“Why else? To shop.”
I shake my head adamantly. “There’s no way that I can afford this place. Why did you bring me here?”
Alden closes the gap and places a tentative hand on my waist. “Don’t worry about it, Monroe. Just take a look around and see if anything catches your eye.”
“I do worry about it, Alden.” I take a step back from him. “And I worry even more when you tell me not to. I can’t just let you pay for something that I know I can never pay you back for. I—”
My eyes catch on something hanging on a mannequin. Sparkles call to me. I go to it like I’m in a trance. When I get in front of the mannequin, it’s a floor-length, sleeveless black dress with a halter neckline. The most beautiful jewels adorn the skirt, making it shine when the light strikes it. I circle it, enchanted by the way a long piece of silken material flows from the back of the neck, draping down and almost kissing the floor.
It’s elegant and playful—and something I’d never wear. It pains me, but I tear my eyes away.
“Is that the one?” Alden asks from behind me. When did he get so close?
“No, it can’t be. None of them can.”
He ignores me. “Can we have some assistance with this dress?”
“Alden—”
An attendant rushes over, taking the dress off the mannequin.
She turns to me. “Would you like to try it on?”
I know I shouldn’t; I know it will only crush me when I have to tell her to take it away. But seeing Alden so captivated by me makes me give in. He gives me a little nod of encouragement.
“Yes.”
There’s no mirror in the changing room, so I have to go out there. To Alden. He’s going to see me in this dress that fits like a second skin. He’s seen me naked, and yet, my palms sweat just imagining his reaction.
I swallow down my fear, pull back the curtain, and step out.
Alden stands from his spot on the red leather couch and takes a few steps toward me. His expression gives nothing away, and I want to scream. The one time I want him to say something, to look at me and give me some sort of hint, and he’s keeping it all tucked away.
When I open my mouth to speak, the attendant’s voice comes out instead, her sweetness oozing over me. “That dress was made for you.”
My gaze darts from her to Alden, and I see how deep his eyes are, how expressive. “My thoughts exactly.”
I run my hands up and down the satin material of the dress, trying not to focus on Alden for too long, or I might see something I won’t be able to deny.
“I’ll grab some shoes,” the woman says.
“Thank you.” My eyes are trained on the floor.
Alden steps into me. “What’s wrong, Monroe?” His voice is concerned, and his hand falls to my hip bone.
“Everything,” I admit, unravelling. “I’m not a doll you can play dress-up with. Someone you can manipulate into being someone they’re not, just to look good on your arm.”
“I know that,” Alden says, and my eyes snap to his.
“Then why are you doing this? Why did you make this stupid bet with me? Why are we in New York?”
Alden blinks at me, but he doesn’t wither away from my blowup. He grabs my chin, making sure I don’t look away from him. “Because I didn’t know how else to thank you. You wouldn’t have let me do this for you without some kind of bet or deal, something to make you more comfortable with the situation.” He blows out a breath. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed it, but I’m not the greatest at expressing my feelings. Or my gratitude.”
“Thank me, for what?”
“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” he asks rhetorically. “For helping me through my panic attack that day. For being kind when you had no reason to.”
“You’re welcome.” I’m gulping down, breath after breath.
“Am I leaving anything out?” Alden jests, trying to drive away some of the tension.
“No.” I smile. “I think you got it all.”
“Good.” He spins me toward the gigantic, gold thorn-rimmed mirror, his open palm splayed across my stomach. “Now, tell me you’re letting me get this for you.” Hesitation makes me clam up. “We can’t get french fries without it.”
I scoff. “Only you would pick the one place in all of New York that requires a dress code for getting fried foods. That has to be some sort of record.”
“Or I just picked it so I could see you all dressed up,” Alden rasps.
I look at him through the mirror, noticing how his throat bobs, his lustful gaze settling on my face.
“These fries better give me an orgasm for all the trouble I’m going through.”
Alden’s smile is ravenous. “That can be arranged.”
I notice something golden dangle from between his fingers, and my eyes dart to it. “What’s that?”
“It’s for you.” Alden gathers my hair before I can ask more, sweeping it over my shoulder. Then, he unclasps what I see is a gold necklace and places it on me.
I’m speechless as I lower my head to get a better look. At the end of the chain, there’s a small hoop, and upon closer inspection, tiny diamonds encircle it. Its beauty takes my breath away.
“I don’t—I can’t wear this.”
Alden frowns. “Why not?”
“I can’t give you a good reason,” I admit.
The truth is, everything in me wants to tell Alden to take the necklace off me, to put it back where he found it. But the little girl inside me who never had jewellery of her own doesn’t want to take it off. My fingers tremble as I play with it, and I curse myself for not putting up more of a fight.
“When you’re anxious, you always rub your chest. But now, you’ll have something there to remind you that you’re okay. That you’re safe.”
Alden’s eyes speak volumes. He wants me to have this. It isn’t just a piece of jewellery; no, it’s more than that. The pendant is cool against my heated skin, and it’s like I can feel myself calming down already.
Our bubble bursts when the attendant comes back, demanding I try on the shoes that she picked out. Alden falls into the background, but my eyes never stray from his. Something inside me feels like it’s shifted; something about the way I look at him has changed. And I can’t tell if it’s a good thing.