Virgin Flyer Read online Lucy Lennox

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
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I heard Teo promising Mr. Banks that Chris would be there to meet him at the hospital in Chicago. I wondered what he’d said to convince his friend to change his mind. It was really none of my business, but I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy knowing the dismissive younger Banks I’d met a couple of times already was closer to Teo than I’d ever be. It didn’t seem fair, somehow. But that was the price I paid to keep the lifestyle I had.

Just as I was about to go in search of a snack and some water for Teo, Simon called.

“That weather I told you about is coming in fast. Our window is narrowing to get this plane in and out before it hits.”

9

Teo

I felt like a child: tired, hungry, unsure. I hated feeling this way. My entire life, I’d struggled with feelings of inferiority, but now I also felt vastly unprepared and relegated to being nothing more in this scenario than the hired help.

As I watched the red taillights of the sleek air ambulance jet rise into the pitch-black early-morning sky, I couldn’t help but worry excessively. Gordon had looked so small and frail on the gurney, and sending him off with a plane full of strangers had been nearly impossible.

Jack had arranged everything, and he’d stood by my side while they’d loaded Gordon onto the plane. I’d found the head nurse and gone over everything about Gordon’s care with her. She was a lovely British woman with insignia that identified her as part of an international air ambulance crew. I knew she had to be plenty capable, but it didn’t stop me from covering all my bases.

After she returned to the cabin to check on Gordon, Jack introduced me to four other crew members on the flight, making sure to explain in a friendly way how important Mr. Banks was to me and how grateful we were for their help. It wasn’t until I stood there, watching the plane fly away, that his actions had accomplished two things: he’d gently reminded them Gordon was important and loved, and he’d gently reminded me that there were several nice people on board the flight who would make sure Gordon was well cared for.

“Let’s go to the hotel,” he said quietly. “You must be dead on your feet. I know I am.”

Snow flurries had begun on our drive to the airport, but the flakes were beginning to come down faster now. Since it was April, I hadn’t brought a parka with me. Chicago hadn’t been that cold, and I hadn’t expected Frankfurt to be much different. But the weather on the northeastern coast of Canada was a different animal. A frigid animal.

I followed Jack back to the vehicle he was using and hopped in, grateful when the heat from the vents proved to still be warm since we hadn’t been gone from the truck long. We pulled into the hotel lot and parked. The front desk had a room key waiting for Jack, but nothing for me.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured to me. “I thought they were arranging something for you too.”

“It’s fine. Nate probably knew I wouldn’t leave Gordon alone at the hospital.” I turned back to the woman at the front desk. “Can I get a room please?”

She bit at her lip and shot a worried glance at Jack. “Well, you see… it’s the Winter Carnival and…”

I felt Jack’s body shift next to mine, and part of me just wanted to lean myself against him and fall asleep standing right there.

“It’s fine,” I said, trying to rally. “I saw another hotel across the street, I think.”

The woman winced. “We’re all full, I’m afraid. We keep two rooms open for emergencies. Since the other pilot was able to share with the flight attendant, your friend here got the last remaining room. I can—”

“You can share with me,” Jack said in a gruff voice. “It’s no problem. Or… actually. You can have the room and I’ll…”

I put my hand on his arm. “Don’t be silly. Sharing sounds fine if you don’t mind.” I wanted to add that we’d done it before with no problem, but the situation was obviously different now.

Jack cleared his throat and nodded at the lady. “Thank you for your help.”

I thanked her too and then followed Jack to the stairwell. My stomach flipped around, making me feel like I was at a teen party and the spinning bottle had just stopped at the most gorgeous member of the football team. Following Jack to a shared hotel room was like following the quarterback into the closet for five minutes in heaven.

My palms began to sweat.

Don’t say anything or you’ll open the chatty floodgates, I warned myself.

I didn’t listen.

“Did you know climbing just eight flights of stairs a day lowers average early mortality risk by 33 percent?” I asked. “It burns more calories per minute than jogging. So you have all these people who think they can’t afford to be healthy when all they need to do is find a simple flight of stairs.”


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