Fated to be Yours

by Jodie Larson

  “You fall off your bed during these dreams?”

  I fidget with my sleeves again. Damn. Why did I say that? I really need to start using my filter when I’m speaking.

  “Um, not all the time. Just sometimes. I don’t hurt myself. Really it’s nothing,” I say sheepishly looking down again.

  The honest concern in his voice has me lifting my head and locking my eyes with his. “It seems like it’s more than nothing. I don’t like the thought of you hurting yourself due to some nocturnal struggle you are having.”

  Andrew’s hand reaches out slightly as if to comfort me, but he returns it back to his lap just as quickly, folding it over the other. My brows furrow at the slight disappointment in not feeling his touch, assuming that’s what he was going to do. This isn’t the first time he’s seemingly hesitated in an attempt to touch me. I noticed it a few times while talking last night he started to reach out to me. Maybe it was the lack of sleep making me see that or maybe it was wishful thinking. I can’t help but feel as if I know him from somewhere, knowing full well that is impossible. I mean I would remember meeting someone like him. I just can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s a familiarity there that I don’t understand. Maybe you just need coffee to wake up. Obviously your hormones are running your brain right now.

  “I’ll be okay. I just hope I didn’t talk in my sleep or drool on your shoulder. I would be mortified beyond belief.” I try to lighten the situation again by giving a little laugh. His twinkling eyes stare right through me and I swear it’s as if he can practically see into my soul. My breath catches as he grins at me.

  “Now it would not be polite of me to divulge such things to a lady.” Andrew sets a small tray in front of me when I fully sit up in my chair. “You slept through the breakfast they served, but I took the liberty of saving a blueberry muffin for you. I hope it is to your liking.” He places a muffin and a glass of orange juice in front of me, making my heart leap at his completely thoughtful gesture. I give him an appreciative smile as my hand hovers over the muffin.

  “Thank you so much for the thought. I really appreciate it since I skipped dinner last night.” And right on cue my stomach growls loudly and I blush from the noise. My arms wrap around my middle as I silently will it to be quiet.

  “Well, judging by the noise that just came from your stomach you must be famished. Promise me that you will eat a proper breakfast when we land.”

  Again the concern that Andrew is showing me is confusing but like before I choose not to dwell on it. Instead, I appease him by gifting a small smile and nod slightly. It’s not as if I’m ever going to see him again so he will never know if I’m lying or not.

  “I will try, but I don’t make any promises. Is London home for you or do you live close by?” I ask as I peel the wrapper off the muffin and split it in two. Andrew gives me a quizzical look when he sees that I picked the top of it off and placed it on the wrapper.

  “Yes, London is home to me. I travel quite often for business so I am gone most of the time.” He continues to watch me pick at the bottom half of the muffin, bringing the tip of his index finger to the edge of his lips. “That is a very interesting way to eat a muffin I must say. Do you always eat the bottom of it first?”

  I shove a piece into my mouth and chew slowly, watching him tap his finger against his full lower lip. A myriad of inappropriate thoughts floods my mind as I stare at them. His lips look so damn sexy. I can only imagine what they can do, what they would taste like.

  Snapping out of my trance, I quickly glance away. I shouldn’t be thinking dirty thoughts when I’m sitting this close to him. It’s bad enough that his scent is invading every pore in my body, making me crave him more than I already am. I need to regroup and focus. But as I do, my eyes fall upon his, causing his lips to curl into a quirky smile. It’s then I realize I haven’t responded yet to his question as I’m lost once again in my fantasy.

  “Of course. The top is the best part, you know with all the sugar and streusel on it. So I always eat the less desirable bottom part first to get it out of the way. Saving the best for last and all that jazz.”

  I pop another piece into my mouth and take a quick sip of my orange juice. Mmm, nice and cold still. Pulp free too. Just how I like it. I don’t usually drink juice or eat muffins. They have too many calories for my liking, but I’m not going to let him know that. Plus he went out of his way to save this for me. It really was quite sweet of him, making me wonder if he’s always this thoughtful and considerate to everyone he meets.

  “I agree. The best should always be saved for last. I guess I’ve just never applied that theory to a breakfast pastry before.” He chuckles and I take another sip of my orange juice. His eyes seem to be studying my face as we stare at each other over the rim of my glass, in a moment of comfortable silence. This is probably the most I’ve ever talked to a stranger, but he doesn’t feel like a stranger to me. That feeling creeps back again, making it seem as if we know each other. I can’t shake it, nor do I want to. Deep down I think there’s a part of me that’s relishing in Andrew’s attention, grateful to be let out of the confined box I’ve kept my emotions in for so long. But even as handsome as he is and how this little exchange is making me feel, we’re still just two strangers on a plane, sharing a space for a period of time. Any delusion of something between us is just that, a delusion.

  I gulp down the last of my juice before gently setting it on the tray. His clear crystal blues drop to my lips before slowly making their way back to my eyes. And that’s when I feel something stir deep inside me; like a million butterflies have been released and are trying to escape all at once. Andrew doesn’t look at me in a way I’m used to, one that feeds my fears and doubts. Instead, there’s a heat in his eyes, along with a cool caution, as if he’s not sure what’s going on between us either.

  I swallow loudly and return to eating my muffin, desperate for some sort of distraction. He watches me intently as I go about picking apart the muffin top.

  “Would you like a piece of the best part?” I ask, turning my head and holding out a chunk of the muffin to him.

  “No, thank you. With the way your stomach rumbled earlier you should eat the whole thing,” he says. My tongue darts out of my mouth, wetting my lower lip in another nervous gesture, as I shake my head.

  “Really, I’m getting quite full and I’d hate to see this magnificent muffin top go to waste,” I plead to him with my eyes and he gives me a very shy grin.

  “Well when you put it that way, how can I resist.” We smile at each other simultaneously as I break apart a piece for Andrew. Our fingers connect, sending another jolt of heat coursing through my bloodstream. That one simple contact is enough to make me lose all my senses except for the ones that pertain to Andrew. The jet engines, the murmuring of the other passengers, even the annoying red-headed attendant all fall away as I solely focus on Andrew.

  My eyes are drawn to his mouth as he chews, watching the muscles in his jaw flex with each small movement. He closes his eyes briefly and I take advantage of the moment to admire his features, especially his long lashes as they fan out against the rise of his cheekbones. The day old stubble on his chin has my fingers itching to run along his jawline as he finishes chewing the last of the muffin, his throat working to swallow the food.

  Andrew slowly opens his eyes and I’m gifted with that heartbreaking smile once again, having been caught with my wide eyes staring at him. Crap. I quickly look away and pick off a piece of the muffin for myself and place it in my mouth. A satisfied humming sound echoes in the back of my throat as I savor the sweet and fruity taste. I’m amazed at how good the pastry is, especially for being airline food. He reaches over and lightly brushes away a stray crumb that was in the corner of my mouth with his thumb and I momentarily freeze. My eyes make contact with his, not knowing what to do or say at this moment. Andrew looks deep in thought but retracts his thumb as a flash of something crosses his face. I don’t know what it was, but the lingerin
g feeling of his skin touching mine remains.

  “You had a little piece there on your lips. I hope you don’t mind.” His voice is low and seductive, like smooth dark chocolate, and my eyes follow the movement of his tongue as it gently sweeps over his bottom lip. Oh, why did he have to do that? The onslaught of images and scenarios begin running rampant through my overstimulated brain. Showing all the possibilities of what that tongue could do and what it would feel like as it traces the curves of my body. How it would worship every inch of me.

  I suddenly feel overly warm as I squirm in my seat.

  “No, I don’t mind. Thank you.” My voice is barely above a whisper as I take in a few short breaths, trying to re-inflate my lungs with precious air. Get it together Tessa. You’re going to scare the poor man away before we even land.

  I place the last piece of muffin in my mouth and quickly wipe away any stray crumbs from my face before he has the chance to do it. I don’t think I can survive him touching my mouth again. I watch his hand start to rise from his lap, moving slowly toward my own but then drops back to rest on his thigh. The background murmuring that had disappeared begins to infiltrate my ears again, reminding us we’re not alone on the plane.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the red-headed flight attendant appear at his side. She’s looking at me with a scowl on her face. I assume that it’s because Andrew is intently looking at me and not paying attention to her.

  “If you’re all done with that ma’am I’ll take the garbage from you,” she says snidely. She accentuates the word ma’am to me, clearly indicating her displeasure of me getting Andrew’s attention and not her. Her green eyes are drilling holes into my head, kind of like Superman and his heat vision. I swear I can almost see the red beams coming from her pupils. I slouch in my chair and put the empty wrapper into the glass before handing them both to her. Andrew just watches my hands while they move and he keeps a tapping finger against his lips.

  “Thank you,” I say timidly. Well, I guess she put me in my place. She obviously isn’t pleased that Andrew is not giving her his full attention. The only reasoning behind this reaction I can think of is she saw me sleeping on his shoulder during the night. She must believe that we’re a couple. Even though we’re not, it appears that wouldn’t even be enough to stop her blatant flirting with him.

  “Is there anything I can get for you before we land?” She places her hand on his forearm again, flashing him an extremely saccharine smile in the process. I think I need to see the dentist after a smile like that. Could she be any more transparent? I mean I’m no ace with guys by any means, but she’s making it way too obvious.

  Andrew breaks his gaze from my eyes and frowns at the attendant. “No, thank you, ma’am. I’m perfect. I have everything I need right here.”

  She frowns when he calls her ma’am like she did to me. Apparently he must know younger women hate being called ma’am. And he must have seen the cringe on my face when she called me that before. I find it endearing he feels the need to stick up for me. I’m not anybody special, nothing more than a stranger he’s known for less than twelve hours. Yet again, there’s something about Andrew that makes me want to know him and want to be around him all the time. The draw to him is so high that I wonder if he feels it too. The way he’s looking at me right now melts my insides and almost makes me believe there is something happening between us.

  The attendant clears her throat next to us, drawing both our attention back to her.

  “If you both could kindly put your trays up and lock them we’ll be landing in a little bit,” she says through clenched teeth, even though a smile is still plastered on her face.

  I put my tray up and can’t help the giggle that escapes from me. “Well, I don’t think she’s a morning person. She definitely seems smitten with you though.”

  “So I’ve noticed,” Andrew says while putting his tray away as well.

  “I guess you must get that a lot. You know, women falling all over you and everything. Your girlfriend must get jealous all the time,” I say, fishing to get more information out of him.

  “No, no girlfriend Tessa,” he replies blandly. Elation fills my insides and I can’t withhold the smile that spreads across my face after his statement.

  “Really? I would have thought a handsome and sexy man such as you would have a girlfriend waiting for him back home.” Again, my brain to mouth filter is not working. I can feel the red creep up my neck and face. Once again, I’ve managed to embarrass myself in front of him. I quickly look down at our feet with the sudden urge to study our shoes.

  He lets out a quiet laugh and I bring my head back up to meet his eyes. “Sexy you say?” The slow, seductive smile he gives me causes my insides to melt once again. How can he do that to me? How does he manage to pull such emotions and feelings out of me at the drop of a hat? I hardly know anything about him, other than he lives in London and travels around the world for his job. I don’t even know his last name. And that’s something important. I should at least know his entire name. Otherwise, we’ll just continue to be two strangers who met in an airport, destined to be only that for the rest of our lives.

  My teeth clamp down on my lower lip, resisting the urge to say anything else that could possibly embarrass me right now. His mouth opens slightly as if he’s about to say something, but then he quickly closes it. We’re lost in this moment and I pray that it goes on forever.

  My stomach drops to my feet as I feel the plane start its descent, pulling me out of Andrew’s trance. This is the part of flying I hate the most. My eyelids squeeze together tightly as I hold my breath.

  “It’s okay. Just take my hand. You’ll be fine.” Andrew reaches over and laces his fingers through mine, instantly calming me down, simply by his touch. I focus on his thumbs as he runs them rhythmically across the back of my hand. He gently tugs my hand into his lap and I risk a glance in his direction. He’s looking forward acting as if holding my hand is something entirely natural. I glance back down at our joined hands and stare.

  He’s holding my hand. He is holding my hand.

  Why is this beautiful sex god holding my hand? My self-doubt rears its ugly head as I continue to stare at our connected hands. I don’t understand what he could possibly see in me. I’m just a plain Jane from the middle of nowhere.

  A lowly assistant who lives by herself.

  A nobody.

  What could I possibly bring into a relationship with someone like him? I have nothing to offer other than a black cloud that seems to follow me wherever I go. I’m just an unloved being floating invisibly through life, never once getting a second glance from anyone, undeserving of attention by the people who are supposed to give it to me unconditionally. And yet, this beautiful man sitting next to me is holding my hand, calming me down, making me feel as if I matter in this world.

  The plane jerks and bounces slightly as the wheels make contact with the ground and taxis toward the main terminal of Heathrow. I look out the window and watch with childlike excitement as realization sends my brain to its happy place. London! I’m finally in London!

  I bring my attention back to Andrew, who has yet to release my hand even though we’ve landed safely on the ground. My fingers flex around his strong hand still in my grip and I stare at his beautiful profile, etching it into my memory. My thoughts are sober as I realize our journey has ended and soon we’ll be leaving each other. This magical connection we shared on the flight seems so perfect and natural as if we were two pieces of a puzzle that are supposed to fit together. I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to leave him.

  As if sensing my inner turmoil, he turns his head towards me and gives me a smile. I return his smile with one of my own and a slight blush that’s slowly heating up my face.

  “I do love your blush. It’s so sweet and innocent the way it softens your features, giving you just that extra splash of color across your cheeks.” He releases my hand with a final squeeze. My hand feels cold and I’m saddened by the missi
ng contact. But I put on my best mask in an attempt to hide by feelings and guard my heart.

  He checks his watch and slowly stands up to retrieve his carry-on from the above compartment. I lean forward to get my laptop bag from where I stowed it and slowly begin to rise. The attendants start dismissing the passengers from the plane and Andrew steps to the side to allow me to exit first. We walk past a jealous Laura, who is still shooting daggers at me while undressing Andrew with her lusty green eyes. Without even looking, I know that he never acknowledged her. Call it a woman’s intuition but I could feel his eyes never leaving my body.

  As we round the corner onto the ramp, he swiftly moves to my side and places his hand at the small of my back. Tingles shoot up and down my spine at the intimate contact. I give myself a secret smile knowing I must be affecting him. I wonder if he’s as nervous about leaving me as I am about him.

  “So Tessa, you say you’ll be in London for the week?”

  My neck cranes back slightly as I get my first full glance of him standing next to me. He seems so much taller than when I first saw him back in New York. My best estimate puts him at about six foot three. I nod my head in response to his question.

  “Yes, I will be leaving on Friday to return back to the States.” I chew my bottom lip and wonder where he’s going with this. We reach the end of the ramp and I step to the side to wait for Kara.

  “I’d really like to see you again while you’re here. There’s something about you that’s calling to me. I don’t know how to explain it. All I know is that I have this urge to see you again and I’m hoping you do too.” There’s a flare of hope shining through his bright blue irises as he silently makes his plea.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Andrew. Unfortunately, I’m here for business and not pleasure. Besides, there’s an ocean between us, literally. I appreciate your company on the plane and for everything that you did, but I believe it is best if we just part ways.”