Page 54 of Inflame

“Welcome to Elite Sky Tours. My name is Norman, and it’s my pleasure to pilot and guide your tour today. I’ve been flying for twenty-three years and haven’t died yet.”

Angie and Claire look at each other and then laugh when the guide’s poker face breaks into the biggest smile. We move into the building, enjoy bottled water, and get settled in front of a large screen.

“It is mandatory at EST to have all future victims watch a safety video so that during crashes my ears are spared from screaming. Oh, and for insurance claim purposes.”

We laugh over the cheesy humor and relax into the cushioned seats while he starts the projector to play the required video.

I lean over and whisper into Claire’s ear, catching her off guard. “You scared?”

She turns her attention to me. “I’m less worried about something bad happening to the aircraft in the sky and more concerned about throwing up from motion sickness.”

I see the fear in her eyes and it bothers me. Maybe this was a mistake to book, and instantly I am having second guesses.

“In the past, has the medicine not worked?”

She nods and gives me a weak smile. As much as she is excited to do something thrilling, she’s realistic to know her limits.

“It’ll be fine. Quit focusing on what could go wrong. The medicine should’ve kicked in by now.”

I pat her leg in a friendly gesture. Well, that was my initial intention at least. Every innocent touch turns sexual in my mind. It is like one glance at her exposed skin makes my fantasies turn dark and blaze like a wildfire that I cannot control. I feel like I am some depraved perv. I stand up and leave the group during the bathroom break to go in search of the gift shop that I saw advertised on the website.

I place a chilled can of ginger ale, ginger snap cookies, and the little pressure bands that get worn on the wrists down on the counter. I pay and join back with the group. When I hand over the bag of supplies to Claire, she looks inside with confusion until it dawns on her that I am again preemptively trying to keep her healthy and calm.

“Wow, thank you,” she whispers, taking out the bands and trying to put them on in the correct spot, all while paying attention to the conversations around her and fumbling with the direction insert from the package.

“Here, give them to me. I can help.”

Claire holds out her slender wrists, and I examine the thin bones to find the sensitive spot between the correct two. I adjust the hard plastic ball that is attached to the inside of the stretchy bands and turn her wrists back over. Her clear nail polish makes her look sophisticated with the manicured white tips. My eyes move up to hers, and it is like we are the only two people in the entire room.

“Thank you,” she mouths.

I can see the shine on her lips from where her lip gloss is smeared. She is softer today. Classy. I am starting to learn that Claire has many different sides, and each mood is represented by how she outwardly presents herself.

I am never one to exercise self-inflicted restraint when it comes to women. Despite finding Claire irresistibly attractive, it is the fact that she is attached to Ethan that makes me want her even more. If she gives in to me, then I can easily lump her into the same category as Tara. Men don’t marry Taras. They fuck around with Taras. And since I have zero intention of ever getting married and settling down, then I will have fun fucking my way through a list of women who also have difficulty committing to one man. It is the perfect way to get my rocks off but not end up in an awkward situation where one party becomes too attached.

I elect Claire as the perfect candidate for my bed. I am basically doing her a favor taking her away from the bastard she is dating. He doesn’t deserve her. I can provide for her better—in the short-term—than he can. The asshole gives her a freaking allowance that doesn’t even compare to minimum wage. Who does that? Maybe meeting her as an escort skewed his definition of what a girlfriend actually means. Or maybe Claire is just as delusional to think that he sees her as anything other than inferior.

When it’s time to go outside, we pass by a display case of memorabilia left by visiting celebrities. Everyone then moves to the helicopter that we will be using for our tour. The guide’s coworker snaps a ridiculous amount of pictures outside the aircraft. Apparently, I unknowingly got signed up for a photography package when I called Graham’s personal assistant, Kylie, and asked her to book this excursion. I told her to “make it special” and “check all the boxes.” When I take over as head of security at HH, I will need to hire my own assistant to handle these types of matters.

“And now each couple,” the photographer announces, catching me off guard. She says the phrase more like a probing question.

I am on the verge of forgoing this whole part of the package. However, Angie and Claire are having so much fun contorting their bodies into different positions just for the sake of having a fun picture to remember today. I don’t have it in me to take away something that is bringing them joy. I also have Claire’s leg flexibility burned into my brain for fantasy purposes. She has to have played sports or have done some type of dance lessons in her past. She is so bendable that I want to test her limits even more when I plow into her. Her ankles would look spectacular draped over my shoulders.

I have no idea what the photographer captured. I am not paying her any attention, despite hearing the girls snicker over her having eyes for me.

After finishing up the couple of pictures, the guide instructs us to enter the aircraft and strap into our seats. We follow through with the directives and load into the helicopter’s back section, while the guide and the photographer sit up front.

Norman puts on his headset and starts up the blades. “I hope you all had a chance to buy some parachutes in our fabulous gift shop. And hopefully not the ones from the clearance section. Those ones are failures.”

We all chuckle. He definitely is making this tour extra fun by his personality alone.

The guide gets us into the air and talks through his mic about the land and water below. He points out the different lakes and attractions. We chat in the back and I relax into my seat, draping my arm over the back of Claire’s. While the view from up above is breathtaking, I find Claire’s reaction to even the smallest things is what really captures my attention.

We fly along the Grand Canyon and see the beauty of the rock layers basking in the heat of the morning sun. The North Rim appears to be holding onto its last remnants of snow, before spring melts it away. Every time I visit this wonder, I am in awe.

I glance over at Claire who is speechless. For the past twenty minutes, the only sounds coming from her mouth have been soft oohs and aahs. She is glued to her window, with her fingers digging into the seam. On occasion, she’ll turn back to me or to Angie and smile, but overall, she is enjoying the peaceful view.

The guide shares some history of the canyon before looping around and taking us back to the city.

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