The Stopover

“When you see him, I want you to do something for me. Ask him if he feels like he might die if he doesn’t get to touch you again... Because there’s another man who does.”

“This is it. I can stop searching. I’ve found her.”

“You must have done something stupid in your life, Jameson Miles.Yeah. I have.What?I never asked for your number.”

“When someone shows themselves to you . . . believe them.”

“When you see him, I want you to do something for me. " "What's that?" "Ask him if he feels like he might die if he doesn't get to touch you again." I frown. "Why would I ask him that?" I whisper. "Because there's another man who does." The phone clicks as he hangs up.”

“These bugs are from Jurassic Park.” He swings his arms around to get them off him. “No bugs are this big.” I go back to my instructions. Okay, so it says here that this pole goes into this . . . “Ahh,” he cries as he slaps his arm. “I’m getting fucking malaria over here, Emily.” I roll my eyes. “Stop being a baby.” I put the pole into the correct place. “Can you grab the corner and stretch it out, please?”

“To love is to be brave.”

“Who’s hopelessly in love with you.” He leans over and kisses me softly, and I feel my resistance fade. “I love you, cheesecake,” he whispers. “Don’t call me fucking cheesecake.” He chuckles against my lips. “Too far?” “Way too far.”

“Really?” he whispers as the flight attendant walks past us. “Excuse me, can we have two more champagnes, please?” he asks her. “Of course, sir.” His eyes come back to meet mine. “Well, do tell. What was your first impression of me?” I pretend to look around for Jessica the flight attendant. “You may need something stronger to drink to hear this, Jim. You’re not going to like it.” He laughs out loud, and I find myself smiling broadly as I watch him. “What’s funny?” I ask. “You are.” “Why am I funny?” I frown. “This sense of righteousness that you have.” “Oh, like you don’t have that too . . . Mr. I’ll Have Two Champagnes.” Our drinks arrive, and he smiles as he passes mine to me. His eyes linger on my face as he takes a sip.”

“Welcome to the Miles-High Club, Emily.”

“I will not beg for any man to love me.”

“There are moments in your life that you know you will remember forever. Certain situations that are poignant and have shaped who you are.”

“Why don’t you want to look at me?Because I just find your face really...punchable.”

“Don’t even fucking look at her ass, or I will sit you on yours”

“I work hard . . . but I love harder.”

“Don’t misjudge my submission as a weakness.”

“So excuse me if the privilege of sucking your golden CEO dick doesn’t excite me any longer.”

“Emily.” He looks at me, and the flashlight strapped to his forehead shines in my eyes. “I smell like a toxic dumping ground of bug poison, and I have never felt so unsexy in my entire life. I wouldn’t be surprised if my dick has been poisoned off like a weed.”

“Will you say something?” I whisper. “Say something sweet to put me out of my misery.” His eyes come to mine as he cups my face. “I packed your scarf in my luggage.” I smile softly. “It’s nothing new. I’ve taken it on every trip I’ve been on . . . since we met.”

“And do tell . . . how would you impress a woman you’re attracted to?”I ask, fascinated. His eyes hold mine. “Offer her a window seat.”

“Men who look that good can’t be blessed with brains too.”

“Nobody treats me as bad as you do, Emily.Because you pay them. Good thing you’ve got lots of money, Jameson. You’re going to need it. Nobody would put up with your shit for free.That’s a low blow.”

“I’m gay, not blind. I can appreciate a fine female form.”

“Sometimes you just know in your gut that you shouldn’t be doing something. The outcome is already written in the stars, and sometimes you should just be stronger and say no. But what if you can’t?”

“I can’t help it. I tried to stop it, and I couldn’t. I think I’ve loved you since our first night together in Boston. You stayed with me. I fought it, and still, I couldn’t forget you. I’ve been carrying your scarf around like a lovesick fool for more than a year.”

“And then I came to your office, and you treated me like a two-bit whore that you ejaculated in the night before.” He clenches his jaw. “I’m nobody’s whore, Jameson, least of all yours. No job is worth my self-respect.”

“Forgiveness is a choice.”

“I don’t like social media, that’s all.” I shrug. “What’s not to like?” She keeps taking her own photo. I stare at her deadpan. “A misrepresentation of society with unrealistic images that portray a fake lifestyle with impossible ideals,”

“But it was the way you kissed me that I remember the most.” My eyes search his. “How did I kiss you?” “Like you’d been waiting your whole life to kiss me.”

“Emily Foster, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Miles,” Lindsey says. I stare at him, unable to speak because there’s no air in my lungs. His eyebrow rises, and he sits back in his chair as he smirks. “Hello, Emily.” His big eyes hold mine, the same beautiful deep-blue eyes that hypnotized me twelve months ago”