Page 6 of Only for the Week
“Yeah.”
I tear my eyes away from his to scour the plane. “Where is the guy? I’ma boo his ass.”
I lift up from my seat but his hand locks onto the crook of my arm as he wheezes out a laugh. “Ayo, you can’t do that!”
“Why not?” I shrug. “He shouldn’t have cheated on my girl.”
His brows jump to his hairline. “You don’t even know the woman.”
“I know nobody deserves to get cheated on, so if he can embarrass her like that then he can get embarrassed too.”
He studies me closely, nodding his head slowly, processing each of my words carefully. His assessment makes the back of my neck heat, but I resist the urge to pull the collar of my shirt away from it.
“Gray hat. Pinkish shirt.”
I search all over until I find him a few rows behind us.
He takes his hat off to run his hand through the maple brown layered fringe mop on his head. Even sitting down, I can tell he’s tall but also on the lanky side. The color of his shirt drowns out his alabaster skin. He’s sitting next to a gorgeous Black woman with amber skin and a blonde short twist bob. My jaw goes slack when I see him do a sniff test on his shirt and then turn a charming smile on the woman. What the fuck?
Rome whispers to me that the ex-girlfriend just stuck her head out from first class to scowl at the man. I lean over him to get a glimpse of her, but Rome’s heady scent fills my nostrils and blinds me to everything else around me. He smells like wood directly after a rainstorm. It’s a comforting smell, one that makes me want to curl up in his arms for a nap.
I give up on trying to see the ex, needing some distance from Rome, so I turn my focus back to the cheater behind us. He’s chatting up “Ms. Short Twist Bob” without a care in the world.
Fuck this man. He’s walking around looking like James’s peach but has the nerve to play in another woman’s face immediately after being exposed as a cheater.
If there’s one thing men are never short on, it’s audacity.
I hold up my phone and snap a picture of the man.
“I just know you’re up to no good right now. What you got going on?” Rome asks.
“Just working a little magic on Canva.”
He leans over my shoulder to look at my screen, invading my senses with that damn scent again. I retype the same line three times before I’m able to shake off his hypnosis.
He cups his fist around his mouth and lets out a howl of a laugh. “Ayo, you’re really sending that out?”
“Hunnid percent,” I deadpan as I hit the button that would airdrop the image I created to all Apple users on the plane.
Rome pulls out his phone when it pings with the notification to give the image another once-over. He shakes his head in amusement and turns that gorgeous grin on me. “You’re a savage.”
The flyer I sent out is a wanted poster with the picture I took of “Mystery Guy” on the forefront and a transparent photo behind him of a man in a lab coat holding a long cucumber in one hand and a small pickle in the other. The caption reads:“Have you seen this man? Owner of a small dirty dick incapable of keeping it in his pants. Last seen in any and everyone’s dms. If found, please return to the streets.”
“And don’t you forget it,” I answer.
I look around the plane at numerous passengers receiving and laughing at the post. I can tell “Ms. Short Twist Bob” got it because she looks from her phone to “Mystery Guy” with disgust and twists her body away from him. A boisterous laugh drifts from the front of the plane and a smile crosses my face at the hope that “Ms. Dodged a Bullet” received my gift.
The icing on the cake is when “Mystery Guy” himself sees it. His head flies up to search the plane but when he realizes he doesn’t have an ally because most people are either laughing at him or looking at him with shame, he shrinks back into his seat and pulls his hat back over his hair.
Damn, that felt good.
The flight attendants announce the plane’s approaching departure and run through the safety precautions before heading to their takeoff seats.
A peaceful quiet falls over Rome and me, with Evie’s soft snores serving as our backup music.
“Is she good? She’s slump over there.” Rome points to Evie.
“Oh yeah, she’s good. The power of Xanax.”
