Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Jake took his iPod out of the backpack and handed it to me. “Here. I made you a playlist for the ride.” He scrolled down to it, and I could see it was titled, Crash and Burn.
“Thanks a lot.”
“You’re welcome.”
I put the headphones on and breathed through Leaving on a Jet Plane by John Denver.
When the next song played, I didn’t quite get it until the chorus: I’m Goin’ Down by Mary J. Blige.
I looked at him and shook my head. He was listening to my iPod and took off his headphones for a moment. “Mary J. Blige?”
I nodded and rolled my eyes.
He snickered and returned the headphones to his ears, lying back and closing his eyes again.
The next song, in typical Jake fashion, completely threw me for a loop. It was a mellow country tune about how the chances of surviving at love are slim, comparing it to an airplane that people wouldn’t get on if they knew the odds of crashing were high. Yet, despite knowing the odds, people get on board in love all of the time. The song was aptly titled, If Love Was a Plane by Brad Paisley.
I looked over at him, and he looked back at me and smiled. I wasn’t sure if he realized which song I was on or if it even had any meaning to him. But it had meaning to me. I wished that he knew how strong my feelings were and that I would be willing to risk anything to be with him. Hell, in my mind, I was doing it right now on this vessel to Mars. Despite whatever was stopping him from taking the next step with me, nothing had been able to prevent me from needing him, not even knowing that he was hiding something from me.
The drink cart was parked in front of our row, and Jake wouldn’t let me order anything but a Bloody Mary to relax. Of course, the older, busty flight attendant licked her lips and made a flirtatious face before handing him his beverage and moving past us. He smiled back at her, and this prompted me to down my drink, which immediately went to my head.
He lifted my empty glass. “Thirsty?”
“Yes.”
The two hour flight seemed to take forever, but when the pilot had put on the fasten seatbelt sign, and the old lady across the aisle had taken out her rosary beads, I knew we were close to landing.
The turbulence from losing altitude brought my panic symptoms back in full force. My ears were popping. He didn’t say anything, just grabbed my hand because he knew I needed it.
One jolt in particular forced me to squeeze his hand even harder. He surprised me when he reached over me, locking both of my hands in his. “It’s almost over, Nina. You did good,” he whispered in a soothing tone.
I focused only on the warmth of his grip, melting my body like butter, to get me through the slow descent. When we finally touched down, I looked over at Lady Rosary. We smiled at each other and simultaneously made the signs of the cross.
CHAPTER 14
I was so incredibly happy to be back on land. We had no bags to retrieve, so Jake and I made it out of the crowded airport in no time. It was energizing to feel the air of a foreign city on my face as we exited the sliding doors. This was a place I probably would have never otherwise visited over the course of my life, and again, I was grateful that Jake had pushed me this far.
Sinatra’s My Kind of Town, the song about Chicago, played in my head as giddy excitement to explore this new city built up inside me.
We hopped into a waiting cab, and he told the driver to take us to Willis Tower.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
I spoke too soon about being grateful for his pushing me and had been hoping to catch a break for the rest of the trip. I took my phone out to google it and soon learned that Willis Tower was the site of a famous Chicago landmark known as the “The Ledge,” a glass box that extends out from the building’s Skydeck, 1,300 feet in the air. Apparently, even people who are not normally afraid of heights get scared standing on this thing.
He leaned over my shoulder. “So, you figured it out, hey, Sherlock?”
“Haven’t I had enough torture for one day?”
“We’re just going to do this one thing, and then I promise, the rest of the day, we’ll just chill.” He crossed his heart with his hand.
“What time is our return flight?”
“Late…not until nine.”
I was officially on the old wooden roller coaster of anxiety again, rising up slowly.
When the cab let us off at the building on South Wacker Drive, I looked up and gulped. “You’re kidding me, right?”