Page 70 of In Flight

Isaac is a little embarrassed that our intimate moment ended up semipublic, but I don’t care at all.

We spend the flight getting as close as we can, talking and laughing and generally reveling in the overflow of sappy feelings. When we land, we take a rideshare over to my place. Isaac is going to spend the night and all the nights this week.

He’ll move to Savannah in another month, and we agree he’ll get his own place so we can take our time with the relationship.

I’m happy to take our time. In fact, I’m excited about it. I’ve never gone through all the stages of a relationship and felt secure about them, but I get to do that now with Isaac.

After we unpack and make ourselves sandwiches and take showers and get ready for bed, I’m still in the same blissful state but also so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open.

I’m in bed when Isaac gets through in the bathroom. He comes out in his boxer briefs, smiling and smelling like soap and toothpaste. He climbs under the covers.

“I know now’s the time we should have our passionate culmination, but I honestly think I’m too tired tonight.” My voice is casual, but I check his face to make sure he’s not disappointed.

He’s not. He smiles and chuckles and turns off the bedside light before he pulls me into a loose embrace. “To tell you the truth, I’m pretty damn tired too. A broken heart can really take it out of you.”

“It can. But they’re not broken anymore.” I press a little kiss into his shoulder.

“No, they’re not.”

He nuzzles my hair but doesn’t deepen his advances. We lie together in soft silence until a question needles its way to the forefront of my mind. “When did you first realize this could be serious?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, thinking it through before he speaks. “Well, I don’t know exactly. I was into you from the very first day. I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire weekend before you showed up again on my flight.”

“Same here. I’ll have to show you the funny sketches I made of you throughout the weekend.”

“Oh no. I’d guess they’re not flattering.”

“Not entirely. But they’re not too bad. I was annoyed with you, but you definitely made an impression. I didn’t know what that impression was for a while.”

“Same here. I thought I didn’t like you, but I kept wanting to know more about you. You kept crossing my mind while we were apart. Then when I saw you help that old lady who had the panic attack, I knew there was something special in you. Something I had to get closer to. After I broke up with Sophie, it really went into overdrive. I started looking forward to every single flight—despite how much I hate flying—because it meant I got to see you again. And I don’t want to describe the lustful fantasies I was having for fear it might creep you out.”

That makes me laugh. I smother it against his chest. “I hope it doesn’t disappoint you, but I didn’t have a lot of lustful fantasies at the beginning. Not until I was really falling for you.”

“I know that. You’re different than me. I don’t care when the lust came for you as long as it came.”

“Oh, it came. No question about that.” I smile against his shoulder. “Just not tonight.”

“Understood. But back to your question, for several weeks, you were all I could think about, but it wasn’t until that flight when my grandfather was in the hospital that I realized it was a lot more than attraction. I guess it was then—after that flight—that it got serious for me. I knew it was too early, and I was worried about coming on too strong and scaring you away. So I tried to play it cool. But I wasn’t cool. Not inside.”

“I’ve never been cool.” I run my fingers through his hair and let them curve around the back of his neck. “I’ve never figured out how.”

“That’s one of the many things I love about you.” He’s quiet for a minute, like he’s waiting for something from me. “What about you?”

I lick my lips. “Well, it’s a little fuzzy for me too, but I’m pretty sure I was serious the first time we had sex. I convinced myself we might have a fling, but that was a hopeless delusion. So I think we’ve been serious about each other for close to the same amount of time.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs. “Maybe we should have said something sooner. We could have sorted it out without all the angst and confusion.”

“Have you ever known anyone who can sort out their own hearts without at least a little angst and confusion?”

“Now that you mention it, I’m not sure I have. Have you?”

“Only boring people.”

That makes him laugh. The familiar sound of it washes over me.

“Well,” I add, snuggling against him and closing my eyes. “We’ve sorted it out now.”

“Yes.” He presses one more kiss against my hair. “We’ve sorted it out now.”

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