"Yeah, I just landed at the airport. Are you here?" I scanned the crowd for a familiar face in green fatigues, finding nothing but strangers rushing past with their rolling suitcases and carry-ons.
"No, but I'm on my way now." My shoulders slumped with disappointment. I rolled my eyes and tried to dismiss the feeling, though the frown stayed stubbornly fixed on my face. "Do you have any money for food?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine." My response came out sharper than intended, and I winced at the sudden silence that followed.
Fernando never took well to... attitudes. It had me constantly tiptoeing around my feelings to please him, a habit I was desperately trying to break.
"Huh? Oh! Yeah, good. I'll call you back in a bit. Go eat," his voice sounded distant and distracted, which let me release the breath I'd been holding.
But that relief quickly turned to confusion; why did he sound so out of it?
"Wait, you're hanging up? Why?"
"I got to call my buddy and make sure he's okay. He said he would be landing soon too." Another wave of disappointment hit me. So you can make sure your buddy is okay, but you can't spare five minutes on the phone with your girlfriend... nice.
"Ugh... yeah, yeah, whatever."
"Ludo." Poison dripped from his tone. He was paying attention this time.
A chill ran through my body as I scrambled for a response.
"I said okay," I muttered. We went through another agonizing stretch of silence. I paced the area where I'd first stepped off the plane, watching the new passengers board as I picked anxiously at my lip.
Fuck... Fuck... Fuck, look, I'm sorry. Just forget it!
"If you say so. 'Kay, bye-bye." He hung up on me rather unceremoniously before I could even respond. My heart pounded in my chest, and anger quickly consumed whatever fear had lingered in the call's wake.
This can't keep happening.
I stopped in my tracks, glaring at my phone. I just wanted him to care again. I just wanted to talk, wanted his attention. I was here to rekindle what little romance remained between us, though I'd never admit that to him. This trip would either be the best week of my life... or the wake-up call I needed.
Okay, rocky start. Looks like I'll be enjoying this vacation alone if things don't turn around.
I stuffed my phone into my beach bag and made my way to the food court, brushing off advances from multiple men who tried to catch my attention. I was visiting Fernando, who was deployed to Puerto Rico for National Guard duties. My stay would last just over a week, with my return flight to Wilmington, Delaware, leaving Wednesday morning. We had planned to make the most of my visit, starting with spending the entire first day at the beach. By tonight, I'd know if there was still an "us" to salvage.
A mix of excitement and dread surrounded showing off my new bathing suit to him. Here I was, still trying to justify his actions and behaviour, desperately attempting to salvage our toxic relationship. The physical intimacy I'd been starved of made me eager to see him—maybe that's why I clung so hard to this relationship. Even as I rationalised it in my head, I wanted to call it quits right then, to tell him, "nevermind, we're done, don't look for me, don't call me, I've had enough." My fingers moved on their own, reaching for my phone and dialling his number.
Each tone tightened fear's grip on my throat until his voice oozed through my speaker, sending chills down my spine. I froze as he rattled off how busy he was in his voicemail. A wave of nausea swept over me, sending me stumbling toward a nearby trash can, where I shifted anxiously from foot to foot, begging myself to calm down, almost forgetting to hang up.
Throughout the airport, I walked with the distinctive float to my steps, hands positioned in front of me, fingers either intertwined or hovering just in front of my pelvis. Four years of working as a princess at the big mouse palace had permanently altered my body language. The mannerisms were second nature now; I was still teaching myself to wave like a normal person and don't even get me started on hugs.
I yanked out a pair of earbuds from my beach bag and shoved them in my ears. They worked to deter conversation while I ordered food and ate, but apparently, not everyone could take a hint.
You'd figure that at 2 a.m., people would be too tired to mess with you, but no. Here was Mr. Tall, Tan, and Handsome walking up beside me as I made my way to the escalator, his presence lingering behind me in a way that put me on guard. He looked stiff and on high alert.
He attempted to talk to me in Spanish.
Now, I understood Spanish very well, actually, but to avoid any unwanted conversations, I pretended I didn't by delaying my reaction and trying to shoot him a puzzled look.
Trying being the operative word.
"Hola, Mami." I couldn't help myself; I reacted almost instantly. My attention slid over to him effortlessly. I tried to maintain a disinterested expression, but he was taller than I expected, standing a full head and shoulders above me, so my gaze met his loosened tie first. I had to drag it up to meet his downright beautiful honey-brown eyes and was in awe.
Looking at him gave me a strange sense of déjà vu, like I'd seen his face on a billboard or magazine, but not familiar enough to place a name or title to it. I couldn't focus long enough to care; I was melting under his steady gaze. I tore my eyes from his to look up at his messy, wavy, wet hair.
I felt a deep urge to play with it, brush it back, put it up, run my hands through it—somehow tame its disheveled appearance.
Each breath wafted a light scent of alcohol; yet another thing that was familiar about him, though the two were unrelated. It's a scent I don't particularly like but prefer over cigarettes, more specifically, cigars. As I continued to scan over him, I noticed his suit, though slightly rumpled, looked expensive, which made me curious about what he did for a living.
I must have left him without a response for too long because he chose to try again, awkwardly clearing his throat.
"Hey, beautiful." His voice once again took my breath away; it was deep and gravelly, yet gentle and velvety. I made the unconscious decision to answer this time.
"H-Hi." I stuttered, turning red.
Smooth.
He just stared at me. His gaze was soft and almost seductive, like he was looking at a lifelong crush, but I quickly shook that feeling away. I didn't want to assume anything. He smirked and yanked his eyes from mine, trying to brush the hair out of his eyes. Annoyed, he sighed through his nose and gave up, then glanced at my wrist with sudden interest as the escalator reached the first floor.
He hooked his hand around me and ushered me away from the bottom of the escalator by the small of my back, holding out his other hand to emphasize the direction he wanted us to move. The intimate action took me completely by surprise. His touch was so light and effortless, as if he'd known me for years, and it was that mindless comfort with me that made my heart skip before I forced myself to dismiss the feeling.
He's just being a gentleman; relax.
The gentle click of the escalator beside us continued rhythmically as I waited for him to explain why he had approached me.
"I know you don't know me, but... can I ask a favor... please? I need help with this." He gestured between his head and the scrunchie on my wrist, his voice tinged with exasperation.
Sure, the guy was hot, but he was still a complete stranger—one with a familiar face, but a stranger nonetheless. He noticed my hesitation when I took a half-step back.
"I tried slicking it back with water in the bathroom, but it didn't last nearly as long as I needed it to. I promise I'll leave you alone afterward if that's what you'd like."
His eyes swept over me before meeting mine again. He smiled shyly, glancing at the ground, his cheeks flushing pink before he cleared his throat and the rosy color faded. His smile was infectious; I couldn't help but nod in response.
God, that smile... where have I seen it? Who are you?
"Sure, I can pin it up for you real quick." I reached up to touch a hanging strand, testing to see if his hair would be even manageable. It felt easy enough to work with, but I needed him to sit down so I could reach properly.
I scanned the grand lobby for a seat, but finding a chair proved difficult. I sighed and wandered around, searching for a free-standing bench, my eyes sweeping every corner of the space but finding nothing.
"Need me to kneel?" His question made my shoulders slump in defeat.
But his suit pants...
"Yes, please." I pulled out my folded black bathing suit cover from my beach bag and placed it on the ground in front of me, not wanting him to dirty his expensive-looking suit.
When he didn't move, I pointed at the cover for emphasis.
"Um... well, you're not gonna get any shorter, so do you mind actually getting on your knees now?" A crooked—and admittedly sexy—smirk spread across his face, revealing deep dimples. I licked my lips and chuckled, pushing away the inappropriate thoughts that followed.
"Damn girl, I don't even know you that well." His voice was mocking and smooth, and I could hear the smile in his words as I shuffled behind him.
Then it hit me... He was making a dirty joke. I nearly died when I realized what he meant.
"...Wait a minute, no! I was just—I didn't want..." My voice trailed off, echoing in the almost empty hall with nothing but the distant sound of rolling luggage filling the awkward silence. I finally gave up trying to explain myself. "I didn't want you to ruin your stupid suit pants."
He leaned back against me as he laughed, his chuckles vibrating through my ribcage. Then he tilted his head back further, his eyes finding mine.
"I know, love... I was just kidding." He chuckled some more. "You responded so late."
His chuckle deepened into another laugh, sending butterflies fluttering in my ribcage. As I continued gathering his hair, he spoke again; this time I leaned over his shoulder to meet his eyes.
"By the way, I forgot to say thank you for doing this. You're honestly too kind. I'm sure you'll make someone very happy one day, and if you ever choose to have one, I know the child will be beautiful too."
"Um... thanks, I hope so too," I responded absent-mindedly, wearing a sweet smile and a distant look. Refocusing on the task at hand, I asked him how he wanted his hair. Apparently, I'd just been playing with it this whole time.
"I just want as much of it out of my face and off of my ears as possible."
"Okay, I'll see what I can do." I tugged at his hair to gather the top half into the grey scrunchie on my wrist.
"Mmn—" He followed the moan with a low growl, as if irritated by his own reaction.
I smirked, fully aware of the power I held in this moment. I battled several tempting ideas before caving to my impulses; I couldn't resist. Gripping his hair, I pulled back slightly so he'd face me. I flashed him a smug look before releasing him and continuing with his hair.
I gave everything one final pull to capture as much as possible in the scrunchie. He let out another growl, and I felt a mischievous smile spreading across my face as I released his hair. My left hand slid around his throat, fingers seductively splayed across his warm skin as I tilted his chin upward. I leaned down to his ear, catching his gaze in my peripheral vision, but before I could speak...
"Wh-what are you—" His stifled whimper broke my composure.
"Easy there, tiger. Remember, you asked me to do your hair. Why would you ask if your scalp was so sensitive? Or were you just looking for someone to tease you?" I watched him bite his lip, and a cocky grin spread across my face. As I pulled my hand away and straightened up, he reached back to grab my ankle, making me jump at his sudden touch.
"I beg your pardon; this tiger hasn't eaten yet."
The inappropriate mental scream for more attention from this man was unholy, but I tried to dismiss it with a chuckle.
"Oh yeah? Well, big boys gotta eat! What's on the menu tonight?" I asked sarcastically while finishing his man bun.
"Rabbit."
My body shivered. I wanted to know what that meant... But somewhere in the back of my mind, I already knew and chose not to indulge him with a response. Walking around to face him, I examined my work. His mid-length hair was half put up, with barely any strands touching his face or ears, exactly as he'd asked for. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best I could do with what I had. I took half a step forward, the toe of my heels barely touching his knee, as I tilted his head up slightly by his chin and began stroking stray hairs back from his forehead and ears.
I glanced down at him, noticing his closed eyes and small smirk as my dress gently brushed against his face. He looked so content that I couldn't help but smile, but then his eyes fluttered open, immediately locking with mine. My face flushed with embarrassment, and I quickly refocused on styling his hair.
He grasped my ankle again, clearly trying to recapture my attention. This time I didn't startle, but his touch sent a warm wave through my body, making me squeeze my thighs together. I knew he noticed, but he remained silent.
"There!" I announced proudly, admiring my handiwork while trying to deflect attention from myself. He gazed up at me with a sweet smile. When he finally stood, he did so deliberately, his face barely missing my chest and his lips almost grazing mine.
As he rose to his full height, he slid his hand up from my ankle, his fingertips tracing a teasing path to my hips. His touch lingered there before tugging at the string holding my bikini bottom, undoing the knot.
My mind screamed at me to step back, to create distance, but the familiar desire his touch awakened made me do the opposite—I moved closer.
Noticing my bold move, he dropped my dress and pulled me to him by my waist, drawing a mischievous smile from me.
What Am I Doing!?!? This is bad.
He wet his lips and bent down to my level, then leaned in close, growling in my ear.
"Hmm, thank you." When he pulled back, he flashed a perfect smile, showing off sharp-looking canines. Nothing supernatural, but they still made me want to be bitten. He was giving me every green light. Despite that, I hesitated.
Because I have a boyfriend. Sure, I've been thinking about ending it, but until I actually tell him "it's over," we're still together... Even though he wouldn't show me the same respect if our positions were reversed.
I loved the attention; I craved it even, but some stupid moral high road kept me from having it. I took a few steps back while averting my eyes, disappointment clear on both our faces as he allowed me to pull away.
"You're welcome." I nervously smoothed my dress and glanced around for potential witnesses to our moment, finding no one in particular, just busy people rushing past us.
"I didn't mean to be so forward. I apologize."
"No! No, it's okay. I wasn't uncomfortable or anything; it's just I'm... I'm just a little distracted."
"Distracted, huh? What could possibly be flooding that pretty little mind of yours? Is it me? You can tell me if I'm distracting you." His disappointment melted away, replaced by a cocky, flirtatious smile.
I smiled back, relieved that I hadn't made things awkward. Peeking up at him, my eyes caught on his loose tie again.
Don't do it.
I narrowed my eyes at it and chuckled.
Please don't do it.
"Oh please," I rolled my eyes, "You're gonna have to try harder than that to distract me."
I reached up to his shoulders, pressing my chest against him to reach higher. But he didn't back away; he just leaned down and closed his eyes.
Why? Don't be like him; at least text him, tell him it's over. Don't do this; you're so much better than this. Besides, you don't even know who this guy is.
I giggled despite the warning voice in my head as I slipped off his tie and draped it over my neck.
"Why are you wearing your tie like that? A sneaky woman might steal it from you." He opened his eyes and blushed; it was adorable. His face dusted pink as he looked away, rubbing his neck and clearing his throat.
"It's not every day that a beautiful bunny like you comes by to steal my tie." I watched as he fought a pout.
I giggled at his comment, wiggling playfully and striking a pose with his tie draped around my neck.
I continued to joke and play around, walking backwards towards the luggage claim area. My heels transitioned from distinct clicks on the waxed floor to muffled taps as I reached the carpeted portion of the room. Just as I was about to take a seat at the bag return, he caught my wrist and pulled me to him. I shuffled a half step closer, my body pressing against his. I wasn't opposed to the contact, but I knew it was wrong to feel this way.
I looked up to meet his gaze and saw raw hunger and millions of unspoken questions in his eyes. Something inside me fought back tears while guilt gnawed at my conscience. He kept one hand in his pocket and the other on the small of my back, holding me close but gently—leaving enough space for me to pull away if I wanted.
I sighed, trying to push away the conflicting feelings while wrestling with the thought of texting Fernando that it was over. A few travellers hurried past as we took our time walking towards the bag conveyor.
Why can't I brush him off like everyone else? This is reckless. I don't even know him, and I'm here thinking about breaking up with Fernando for... a momentary high? Don't be stupid. Think this through.
"What's your name?" His voice cut through my spiralling thoughts. Though framed as a question, the pure desire in his voice made it sound more like a demand. I answered, not wanting to be rude.
"Luanne Dion Trainer." I pushed away from him to preserve what little self-control I had left, and he released me reluctantly. "And you?"
"Gray Thomson." His name echoed in my mind like a familiar song.
Thomson... Thomson. Why do I know that name? Where have I heard that before?
"Do I know you from somewhere?" The question burst out before I could stop myself, but I needed to know.
"Uh... I can't say we've formally met before, no." My sudden question clearly threw him off.
"Hmm." The silence that followed made me blush.
This is so awkward.
Finally, he broke through the tension.
"Well, Luanne, do you know where I could find a cute, bratty bunny? Someone fun, mischievous, and alluring... happen to know anyone like that?"
I desperately want to be that for you. But being near you is such a bad idea right now.
"No, sorry." The disappointment in my voice was impossible to hide. I'd never felt so conflicted.
"That's a shame; I'm in the market for one." We maintained eye contact the entire time—or rather, his eyes held me captive as a cocky grin spread across his face.
He placed his hand on the right side of my neck, his thumb finding my pulse point. As he traced gentle circles on my skin, my heartbeat quickened beneath his touch.