Crashing into Love

by Hollis Wynn

  “Nah, Todd is putting the kids in the tub. It’s his night for bath duty. How are you? Any dates this week?” She waggles her eyebrows at me and heads to the fridge, pouring a large glass of wine for herself, then takes the iPad to table, making herself comfortable.

  I smile because no matter what she has going on, she always asks about me. “Nothing worth writing home about. I ended up with an unexpected lunch date yesterday that was boring as fuck, but since he didn’t have my number, I don’t have to worry about him bothering me again.”

  “Boo.”

  “Oh, but I forgot to tell you.” I take a bite of my pasta before continuing, “Monday began with Pilot Mike sending me a text telling me he was horny and asking if I wanted a dick pic.”

  Wren turns her head and spits her wine all over the table. She’s laughing so hard that she can’t catch her breath.

  “Are you serious?”

  I nod at her and keep eating while she cleans up her mess.

  “If that is what dating is like now, I’ll be single forever if something happens to Todd. I’m not jumping in a pond full of piranhas swinging their dicks all the time.”

  The conversation transitions to her wanting to go back to work soon, and Todd not putting out as much. It’s funny to listen to, but I still feel for her. Life after children differs greatly from life before, and I know it’s hard for her.

  We chat for almost another hour about books, kids, and life. It’s rare we have this much time together, and I’m very appreciative of tonight.

  “Now that you’re all limber and lose, go take a shower and shave your bits before jumping your husband. You’ll both thank me when it’s over.”

  She laughs because she’s both tipsy and in dire need of the big D. I wave at her, then blow a kiss at the computer before hanging up.

  I have a message online and check it before cleaning up and getting ready for bed. Mike has changed our date from Friday dinner to Saturday so we can watch the Air & Water Show on the beach. Normally, I’d refuse to hang out on that day because it’s insane, but it’s time to take a chance and do something that’s out of my norm and see what happens.

  Sweet Nothings

  Capricorn, Cupcakes & Cocktails

  Pilot Mike: Good Morning, sweetheart!

  Me: Morning

  Pilot Mike: I’m horny.

  Me: Well. It’s a good thing you have hands.

  Pilot Mike: What are you wearing?

  This is the point that every woman knows no matter what she’s actually wearing—a holey T-shirt and sweats for me—she can have loads of fun with the guy. Like this . . .

  Me: A towel. I’m chilling with a cup of coffee and a book after my shower.

  Pilot Mike: Are you horny?

  Me: Nope.

  Pilot Mike: I’m stroking myself. Do you want to see?

  Me: I think it’s a bit early for that. I mean, we’ve only had one date.

  And that’s how my day started. Thankfully, I’d already had one cup of coffee before I had to deal with his nonsense. First, we had an epic date. Now this. I should have known it was too good to be true.

  But now I’m curious. What does his member look like? Is it pencil thin? Was it as wide and short as a beer can? Or was it just right? Yes, I did call it a member. Haven’t you seen How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days? Ever since I saw that the first time, I can’t stop calling it a member. It also may be the reason I’m full of giggles.

  Diaries are full of secrets, so here is one for you—being a single woman in a city like Chicago isn’t glamorous. It means I schlep my laundry to and from the laundry room downstairs, losing half my money trying to get the machines to work. A cleaning lady isn’t in the budget and a car is out of the question because the parking expense is more than the monthly payment and insurance combined. The weekend is for food shopping and attempting to get ready for another week. Between meal prep, laundry, cleaning, yada, yada, yada, by Sunday night I’m ready to fall into a tub of bubbles with a glass of wine.

  When Monday morning starts with a text message asking if I want a dick pic, I decided to eat the cupcake for breakfast instead of after dinner.

  Until next time,

  Searching Sterling

  Twelve

  When I awake, I decide to get my run in before I head to the beach for my date with Mike. Spending a day in the sunshine sounds amazing, even with all the people that will be around, but so does running to loosen up my body and let go of the week’s stress.

  Five miles later, I’m both exhausted and invigorated. I know that’s an enigma, but it’s what happens to me and I love it.

  As someone who holds my stress in my shoulders, there is nothing like standing under a hot spray allowing the water to beat out the tension. Once the water cools, I wash my hair and my body quickly before it turns to ice.

  I wrap my favorite bath sheet around my body before digging in my drawer of swimsuits to find the one I want to wear. I have every style and color, but my favorite one is turquoise with hot pink embroidery and ties. The triangle top shows off my assets and the bottoms make my booty look amazing. Considering this is a date, I want to look my best.

  It doesn’t take me long to load up my bag with a blanket, towel, water, snacks and tons of sunscreen for a day of lounging on the beach watching all the planes do tricks.

  I hail a cab to take me to North Avenue Beach, or as close as it can get. It’s not that far of a walk, but I’m not walking miles in flip-flops and a swimsuit. That’s not the kind of attention I want.

  The cabbie drops me off at the south end of Lincoln Park so I don’t have far to go. There are so many people here that I text Mike and tell him I’ll be standing near the bathrooms at Castaways and we can go to wherever he wants to hang out.

  Pilot Mike: I’m near Castaways. Wearing a red T-shirt and navy board shorts.

  I look around, realizing I’m not that far from where he is. Maneuvering my way through the crowd of people, I hear someone calling my name.

  “Sutton, over here.”

  Turning to the right, I see Pilot Mike standing up, waving something in the air. He’s easy to spot in the middle of all the minimally clad bodies because he still has his shirt on. Plus, his blond hair stands out over the top of everyone.

  I maneuver my way through the swarm of people and notice he already has a blanket laid out for us. It looks as though people are generally pretty nice if you have a place staked out.

  “Thanks for inviting me,” I say when he leans over and gives me a kiss on my cheek in greeting.

  “Get comfortable. I have some drinks and snacks in my bag.” He points to a black backpack anchoring one side of the blanket. “Make sure to put your bag on a corner to hold the blanket down. It’s been pretty windy this morning.”

  “They don’t call it the Windy City for nothing.” I laugh at my own joke. Thankfully, he thinks it’s funny and laughs with me.

  I pull my coverup off and settle myself on the blanket with a bottle of water. I notice that Mike is trying not to stare, but he’s failing spectacularly.

  “Feel free to get a look. It’s going to be a long day and you’re going to have a crick in your neck if you keep trying to sneak a peek,” I say with some serious sass in my tone. Wren would smack me if she could hear me now.

  “Well then,” he says before he drops down beside me and takes a good minute looking me up and down. “I think I could get used to seeing you like this.”

  A short time later, the festivities begin. It’s amazing to watch the planes and all that they can do. I never even considered what some of these planes can do. For me they’re only important to get me from point A to Z. But watching the paratroopers, the tricks and more makes for a fun day.

  Pilot Mike takes pictures like he’s never seen a plane before, which is ironic considering his profession.

  “Why all the pictures?” I finally ask him.

  He lets the strap of his camera go and it falls to his chest. “Photography is my hobby.”<
br />
  “Nice.” I nod at him before glancing over my shoulder. I notice the line for the ladies’ room is shorter than it has been in a while and decide to take my chance.

  “I’ll be right back.” One of my oddest quirks is that I despise telling someone when I’m going to the bathroom. I don’t know why, but it seems so personal. So, I usually just say, I’ll be right back and let them draw their own conclusion.

  By the time I make it to the bathroom, the line is long again. So, I lean against the brick wall, watching all the people milling about. There are kids jumping around and splashing in the water, while couples snuggle up to watch the action in the sky.

  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed my time with Mike today, but there is something missing that I can’t put my finger on. Maybe it’s his carefree attitude, along with his constant reminders that he’s not looking for anything serious. I get it—there are times in our lives when we can’t fathom taking that next step—however, I’m not cheap or easy. I’m looking for a forever kind of love, through good times and bad, until death do us part.

  Upon exiting the bathroom, there is a crowd of people standing right outside the door. I don’t see anything abnormal around us, then I hear someone gasp and fingers are pointing at the sky.

  Looking up, I catch the last guy jumping out of the plane above us. It’s crazy that someone would voluntarily jump out of a perfectly good airplane, especially over water. That same heart stopping feeling that I imagine happens when you jump, is what I’m feeling watching them float through the air, wondering where they’re going to land.

  I keep staring at them floating through the clearest blue, cloudless sky until I hear someone calling my name.

  “Sutton?” I recognize Baker’s voice, but I don’t see him. I turn in a quick circle and realize he’s walking my way.

  Well, this is unexpected. Standing here in an itty-bitty bikini is not how I would like to greet a coworker. A stunningly gorgeous, funny, and kind coworker.

  “Hey, Baker,” I say as he leans over, giving me a half hug and kiss on my cheek all while holding a drink. He steps back and I take in his flawless torso. He’s got a slight tan, and his chiseled V stands out, drawing my eyes to the lines that are a direct map to the promised land. A loud noise breaks the spell he has me under. When I look up, our eyes connect and Baker doesn’t say anything, just smirks at me.

  “It’s good to see you here,” I say, trying to change the subject. “Are you enjoying the day?”

  “It’s definitely looking up.”

  And what do I do? Instead of looking up at the sky, I look down at his red board shorts and flip-flops. Yep, things are absolutely looking up.

  A blush rises from my chest through my cheeks and I try not to giggle. Yes, giggle. When I get nervous, I tend to laugh at the most inappropriate things—this would be one of them.

  “Who are you here with?” Baker asks me.

  “A friend. What about you?”

  “A couple of the guys from work are here. They decided while their wives went shopping, we’d hang out here for a couple hours.”

  I nod at him. Geez. That means I have a chance of running into more people from work when I’m standing here less than half dressed.

  “Well, enjoy your afternoon. I’m going to head back to my spot.”

  Glancing slightly to my left, I hope Mike doesn’t see me standing here, hip popped out, talking to Baker. Thankfully, my eyes are covered by my oversized sunglasses and Baker can’t see the desire streaming from them.

  “It was good to see you, Sutton. Enjoy your day and let me know if you need anything.”

  I do a half wave before turning around and walking back to Pilot Mike.

  When I get back to the blanket, Pilot Mike’s standing with his camera pointed to the sky. I settle into my spot and add another layer of sunscreen so I’m not as red as a cooked lobster tonight.

  He steps back onto the blanket before setting his camera down. “I guess the lines are longer than you thought.”

  “Oh, I just saw someone from the office, and we chatted for a minute.” It’s the truth. I work with Baker.

  “Since you’re back, I’m going to take my turn. Do you want anything from the snack bar while I’m up?”

  I shake my head at him. “No, thanks. Good luck with the line.”

  The air show has been great, but I can feel myself burning, so I decide to call it a day.

  “I’m not sure how much longer you’re planning on staying, but think I’m going to go before this burn gets any worse.”

  Laying back, with his arms crossed overhead, Pilot Mike props himself up on his side, running a hand up and down my stomach.

  “Are you sure?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I just laugh.

  “Yes, I’m sure. I need to get a shower and lather myself from head to toe with aloe.” I gather up all my things that are spread out, which doesn’t take very long.

  “Totally understand. I hope you enjoyed the day.” He maneuvers himself into a seated position and begins packing up his camera equipment.

  “I had a wonderful day. Thank you for inviting me,” I say. Then he leans over and plants his lips on mine in a quick kiss.

  That is totally unexpected. Pulling back, he smiles at me and I place my fingers over my lips. This morning he kissed my cheek, but there hasn’t been any other real intimacy today.

  “I’d like to continue this day, since I’m leaving again in the morning. What do you think about dinner tonight?”

  “Dinner would be great. But only if it’s something casual.” The idea of putting on a dress and heels after a long run and being sunburned is the last thing I want. If it was up to me, I’d be curled up in my sweats and ordering takeout. But he’s right—I’d like to spend some time actually talking before he leaves again.

  “Sounds good. I’ll reach out once I’m home and we can go from there,” Mike says.

  He finishes packing up his stuff. I shake out the last of the things before folding them up and placing them in my bag.

  “Thank you for a great day. I’ll see you tonight.”

  Even though the temperature is in the eighties, I have on a pair of leggings, a tank top and an oversized sweater, with my hair in a bun. It’s not the cutest thing I could wear, but there’s a delicate balance with sunburn and AC. I tend to get super cold even though I’m overheating.

  This restaurant is small and unique. I’ll be adding it to my list of places to come back to because their food is exceptional.

  “How did you hear about this place?” I ask him.

  “My buddy is the owner and I like to support him. Plus, the food is simple but amazing.”

  He’s not wrong. The menu is simple—tacos, salsas, dips and margaritas. That’s it. Obviously, they have sodas and such, but it’s margaritas or nothing if you’re looking for a good night out.

  “We really haven’t talked about your trip last week. How was it? Anything good happen?”

  “It was rough. A storm came in during one of the long legs. Then the layover was longer than normal because of some technical issues. Part of the life of a pilot though.”

  “True. Where are you off to tomorrow?”

  He pulls out his phone and scrolls a bit before responding, “New York. London. Ireland. Back to New York. Then to Houston and home.”

  “That’s a long week—or more—of flying. Hopefully, you’ll get to see something fun in each place.” I’d love to visit all those places, but not with less than twenty-four hours to enjoy the sites.

  “If you call dinner and the hotel room fun, then I’m having all the fun next week.” I laugh at him because I imagine he’s so used to this, that it’s not a big deal. “If I want fun, I spend a week in the mountains, camping and hiking.”

  My eyes almost bug out of my head because camping sounds more like torture than fun. I enjoy a day of hiking, but only if it’s followed up but a steaming hot shower and an extra fluffy bed. I decide to change the subject instead of r
esponding to his idea of fun.

  “This jalapeno margarita”—I take one more sip, trying to make it last—“is sheer perfection. These guys are onto something.”

  “They really are. I love that this place is the opposite of pretentious. So many restaurants are trying to one up someone else, and they come up with the most elaborate dishes that cost a ton of money. But they haven’t realized their food isn’t as good as using good quality, simple ingredients.”

  “I’d agree with you on that.” I stare at the bottom of my margarita, before taking one last long drink.

  We chat for a few more minutes before Pilot Mike says, “Sutton, I hate to say it, but I’ve got an early flight tomorrow,” then flags down our waiter to pay the bill effectively ending our date.

  Thirteen

  And then suddenly it’s Monday again. For my outfit today, I’m a bit more casual than normal. These jeans fit dreamily, and I’m wearing my favorite wine-colored blazer with my strappiest heels. It’s business on the top, casual in the middle and party on the bottom—not to be confused with a mullet.

  “Hey, Sutton,” Baker says, standing in front of my desk double fisting the coffee cups from Brewed Awakening. His muscular frame is wrapped in pin stripe suit pants and a white button down, rolled to his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms.

  “Hi,” I mumble, still slightly embarrassed about our run in at the air show.

  “I thought you might like another coffee since it’s Monday.” He places my cup on the desk and gives me one of his breathtaking smiles.

  “Thank you. What a wonderful surprise this is. It’s sure to make the day even better.”

  I inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of coffee and caramel, before smiling up at Baker, who is standing there staring at me.

  “I’ll be on calls most of the day but let me know if you need anything else.” He winks at me before heading back down the hall to his office.