Page 45 of Stuck With My Rockstar Boss
“I’m happy to see you too!” I smile.
Mika grins and jumps up to kiss me. I want to keep her right there forever because then I have her and don’t have to sit with all the nerves of this ring in my pocket. “Come on, the line for security is getting worse by the second.”
We get through security fairly quickly. The whole time, Mika chats about our trip: we’ve talked about India for a long time and decided to finally pull the trigger. Two weeks of traveling the country, full of exciting adventures we’ve planned and a proposal a couple days in… after we get over the jet lag of a twenty-two hours of plane travel.
I know the therapy is working because airports used to make me so nervous, and now I’m pretty nonplussed except for when a TSA agent yells at me to take off my shoes.
Once we get through security, Mika heads straight for the bookstore. I wait with our bags at the gate and keep my hand on the ring box in my pocket. I know I should keep it in my bag, but it makes me nervous to have it off my person. I turn it over and over, the velvet brushing my fingers gently.
“Hash brown?”
I jump at the sound of Mika’s voice and pull my hand out of my pocket in an effort to not look suspicious, although I’m sure it looks even more suspicious. Mika holds up a McDonald’s bag with a grin. “Sure, sounds good,” I say.
She hands me a sleeved, greasy hash brown. “You okay, babe?”
“Hm?”
“You okay?”
I feel the color drain out of my face. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah. I’m good.”
Mika smiles but her brow pinches at the center. “You sure? You seem preoccupied.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Just thinking about how long this trip is gonna be and dreading it,” I try to play it off with a laugh.
Mika grabs my hand and massages my palm. “Your anxiety acting up?”
“No, it’s fine,” I sigh. I focus on the feeling of her hand in mine. Focus on her empty ring finger. We’ve talked about marriage. Eventually. I don’t know how eventually she meant, though. Am I rushing things? Will she be ready?
Mika leans into me and puts her head on my shoulder. I play with a strand of her hair. “So, mile high club or…?”
I laugh. We always joke about the idea of having sex on a plane trip but haven’t ever had the confidence to do it. Not to mention, plane trips make me feel so crusty that sex is the last thing on my mind.
I catch sight of a teen girl walking toward us, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. I can tell she’s a fan. And instead of my heart racing in anxiety, I’m calm and cool. “Fan at eleven o’clock.”
Mika sits up. Fans like me but love when they see her. She grins at me. “Showtime.”
Our flight is delayed. We weren’t informed of this until we were all seated. At least we are in first class and we have more leg room, but it’s still a fucking airplane. We’re all taking turns getting up and stretching our legs in the aisles. We’ve been cooped up for an hour now. Turns out there’s an issue of getting planes off the tarmac. I couldn’t care less at this point. This ring box is digging into my side. I’m so aware of it that I’m thinking about it no matter what I’m doing.
“Oh my god, I’m out of water,” Mika groans, holding up her empty bottle.
“I’ll get you some,” I say, starting to stand.
“No,” she says and pulls on my sleeve. “Just sit with me.”
I will gladly sit with her. I push the arm rest up so we can be as close as possible. Mika groans into my chest. “I wanna go homeeee.”
“I know, baby,” I say, chuckling.
She wraps her arms around my waist, resting her hand on my stomach. Her hand is dangerously close to my pocket and I’m starting to sweat.
How the hell am I going to make it through a twenty plus hour flight without losing my goddamned mind over proposing? Not to mention, I’m going to have to wait several days for the proposal which I have planned at the Valley of the Flowers which is an eight-hour drive from Delhi. I’m an absolute idiot for thinking I’d be able to handle the nerves.
We get word it’s gonna be another half hour before we’re able to start taxiing. This is hellish. Mika’s been napping on and off on my shoulder. I can’t take it anymore. “Mika,” I say, nudging her with my elbow.
“Hm?” She squinches her eyes open. “What? Are we moving?”
“No, no… I…” I swallow. “Listen, I thought I’d be able to wait until we got to India, but I can’t.”
