Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
It’s still early in the day so my mind is on a loop, doing the mental math, making lists of possible date locations around the city; an arcade? Art museum? The lakefront? Boating?
Bike rides, city tours…
We drive out of the city limits, content to be in one another’s company, the silence comfortable despite this being our first official date.
It feels like one—but it doesn’t.
At all.
It feels like the same Molly and Eli, doing what they do, being chill and having a pleasant time.
Shouldn’t there be romance?
Shouldn’t I feel nervous?
Soon there are planes overhead, and we’re taking the airport exit, which can’t be right because we’re not going anywhere.
“Are you planning on having me lie on the roof of your car again so we can watch planes come and go?”
Kind of a cute idea, though it’s a bit strange in the middle of the day, but—whatever. Some guys aren’t great with creative ideas, and to be fair, neither am I.
“Nope.”
He taps a card on the scanner outside, and I watch as the gates in front of us slowly slide open.
“Don’t tell me you’re flying us somewhere.” Ha ha. My laugh comes out sounding sheepish and nervous, exactly how I’m beginning to feel right now.
Eli winks at me, pulling into a parking spot and popping his trunk. “Guess you’ll have to see.”
He unbuckles with a grin. “Come on.”
Oh god.
Oh shit—we’re actually flying somewhere?
Now my nerves are for an entirely new reason. He’s whisking me away somewhere!
No one has ever done this for me before, this feels both exciting but also so extra. Who does this?!
Not to be left behind, I scamper out of my seat to follow and find him pulling two bags out of the trunk—his and mine—then slamming it shut with a thud. He manages to balance his diffel on my suitcase, along with my white gift box. Eli reaches for my hand.
I look down at it before taking it in mine.
We’ve never held hands before. Do I even like holding hands?
I contemplate this as we walk toward the private airplane hangar with its private lounge and private everything. No other people or passengers are around except a flight crew and the pilot.
The weight of his hand in mine is warm as he speaks to the crew, and when one of the flight attendants takes our bags and he pulls me toward the plane, my stomach does a summersault.
The flutters mean something.
I notice then that Eli is dressed as casually as I in jeans and a graphic tee shirt with a comic book hero on it, and sneakers—albeit expensive ones, they are sneakers just the same. I also notice his biceps; toned and muscular. A chest that looks defined through the cotton of his shirt.
Hmm.
We’re led to the steps of the aircraft, and the flight attendants ask if we’d like a picture before we get on.
“Um—no thank you.” I look up at Eli. “Unless you want one?”
I have no interest in posting photos on social media, although it would be fun to capture our first date in the event that…I don’t hate him at the end of the weekend.
Ha!
“I’m good if you’re good.”
I nod, then ascend the stairs, trying to look cool about it while my insides are freaking out.
Holy shit, I’m on a private plane; holy shit, I’m on a private plane; holy shit, I’m on a private plane…
Be cool, Molly.
I find a seat in the center of the plane, plopping down in a beige leather seat, surrounded by a few other leather seats. A table separates my seat from the one across, and Eli sets the white box in the middle before sitting himself across from me—as if we were at a normal table about to share a meal.
“Can I open this now?”
“Please.” He nods. “I’m hungry.”
Tentatively I pull apart the bow and let it fall to the little table, its blue satin shining in the light streaming in from the oval windows. I’m finally able to pull back the cardboard top to peek inside; a charcuterie of sorts there to delight me. Some pastries, cut-up fruit, and cookies.
“They have food on board, but I thought this would be fun. Instead of flowers,” he tells me again.
“This was so sweet.” I pull a pastry out of the box. “And this is sweet, too.”
Taking a nibble, I sigh when it hits my tongue, sugar and fruit and carbs, in one delicious bite.
The flight attendant sees us and comes over. “Mr. Cohen, we have a full service today even though it’s a short flight. Would you still like us to serve it? I was going to wait until we reached cruising altitude.”
“Absolutely, we’re starving, and I want Molly to get the full treatment.”
“I’m Beth,” she introduces herself. “What can I start you off with? We have champagne, red wine, white—and of course, soda pop and bottled water.”