Come Fly with Me: A Collection

by Whitney G.

  “Gillian—”

  “No.” She cut me off, still not looking at me. “Say whatever you think you need to say and then leave. Now.”

  I sighed, looking over my shoulder to where her roommate was now watching us from the couch. I scanned the room, noticing that despite the drab exterior, they’d managed to make the inside look like it belonged in a completely different apartment. And in two of the corners, in front of massive stacks of piled envelopes, were eight of the flower bouquets I’d sent yesterday.

  “Say whatever you think you need to say,” Gillian said under her breath. “And then leave me alone, Jake.”

  “Okay.” I adjusted my watch. “I honestly think you’re the most insane and infuriating woman I’ve ever met. I knew from the moment you gave me a tour of my own goddamn apartment that you were a special brand of psycho.”

  “Okay, you know what?” She looked up and her eyes met mine. “Don’t say whatever you think you need to say. Just leave.”

  “I miss the way you fuck me.”

  “Oh, be still my beating heart.” She hissed. “How could I ever be okay with letting you go after hearing that?”

  “I figured I’d start with honesty.”

  “How about starting with transparency instead?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Where do you go every three weeks? Why is it that we can never meet up on those weekends? And why do you always take your phone calls in another room and change the subject when I ask about it?”

  “Gillian…”

  “Why is it that every time we’re on the verge of getting closer—every. single. time.—you shut me out and act as if I can turn off my feelings as easily as you can?”

  I stepped back. I’d seen her angry before, seen her damn near on the edge of lividness, but the look on her face right now was beyond different from that. It was pain.

  “Those flowers don’t make up for you being an asshole, Jake.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t care how beautiful they are. And neither does this.” She opened a drawer and pulled out the watch I’d given to her and threw it to me.

  “You don’t have to give this back.”

  “I want to give it back,” she said harshly. “I want you to give it to a woman who can deal with you treating her heart like a goddamn yo-yo. So, like I said earlier…Say your final words and leave.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Well, I will. Hurry up.”

  Her roommate noisily opened a huge bag of potato chips and sat up on the couch, watching us intently like we were her entertainment.

  I rolled my eyes at her and faced Gillian again. “Can I talk to you, in private, please?”

  “Right here is fine.”

  She pointed at the clock on the wall. “Five minutes.”

  “Fine.” I held back a groan. “I do miss the way you fuck me, and I miss the way I fuck you, too.” I stepped closer to her, crossing into the kitchen. “And if you weren’t crying right now, I might believe that you want me to leave you alone.” I closed the gap between us and wiped her tears away with my fingertips. Then I returned the watch to the drawer.

  “Don’t touch me…” she said, but she didn’t move back when I wiped another stream of tears away.

  “I don’t intend to hurt you, Gillian,” I said softly as she turned away. “And I think you should know by now that I do have feelings for you.”

  “You have one hell of a way of showing it.”

  “Gillian…” I grabbed her hands, entwining them with mine until she looked up at me again. “I don’t usually let people get close to me because they always disappoint me in the end. Always.”

  “What happened to ‘neither of us can predict the future?’ I believe it was you who said that.”

  “I’m not done talking.” I pressed a kiss against her lips. “The three-week thing is personal. It’s something I’ve never had to answer to anyone about, but…” I looked into her eyes. “We can discuss it later if you’d like. You think I’m fucking another woman when I can’t meet you those weekends?”

  She nodded, looking completely convinced.

  “Well, I’m not. It’s only been you since we met.” I let one of her hands go and ran my fingers through her hair. “As crazy as you drive me sometimes, I don’t want to lose what we have.”

  “Outside of great sex,” she said, her voice completely hoarse. “What do we have, Jake?”

  “Whatever it is, it’s a mess, but I like it.” I looked right into her eyes. “That said, I honestly don’t want us to argue anymore.”

  “Ha!” her roommate snorted, making both of us turn around, making us both realize she was still watching.”

  “Sorry,” she said, faking a cough. “My allergies are just awful this year.”

  I gave her a blank stare and turned around, refocusing on Gillian. “I don’t enjoy arguing with you and I’m s—” The word stalled on my lips. “I’m...”

  Her eyes lit up and her lips turned up into a small smile. “You’re what, Jake?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, and before she could make a spectacle out of it, I continued. “For not treating you right. Yes, I will do better. If you let me.”

  “I think that’s as good as an apology as you’re going to get from him, Gil.” Her roommate spoke from the couch. “I would be okay with you giving him one more chance based on that, especially since you say the sex is so amazing.”

  Gillian cheeks turned red as she ignored that comment and looked up at me. “Is this the part where you whisk me into my bedroom and make love to me?”

  “No, this is the part where I ask you to come fly with me.”

  “When?”

  “Now. This morning.”

  Her smile faded. “I can’t.”

  “And why not? Is it the someone else?”

  “No.” She shook her head, and grabbed my hand, pulling me down a short hall and into her bedroom. She motioned for me to sit at her desk. “I’ll be right back.”

  She left and I looked around her room. With its bright yellow walls and Christmas lights strung atop the window, her cramped space was stuffed with boxes of shoes and racks of clothes on one side. Her mattress, propped up by egg-crates, was on the other side.

  The wall above her desk was covered in photos, college news-clippings, and handwritten notes. There was one particular phrase that was written repeatedly on multiple pinned post-its:

  Fuck you, NYC.

  Fuck you, NYT.

  And Fuck you, Kennedy.

  Ha! It rhymes…

  Underneath her handwritten notes were photos of herself. She was smiling in a college newspaper room, laughing at an airfield, and numerous shots of her in an airport.

  I picked up one of the airport pictures and noticed it was dated for six years ago. Her hair was twisted into a bun and she was dressed as a gate agent, not a flight attendant. Not only that, but she wasn’t dressed as an Elite Airways gate agent, she was wearing the red and white from Delta Airways in a few shots, and the blue and red from American Airways.

  Interesting…

  Before I could think about how she’d managed to get hired at three competing airlines within the same few years, I spotted two pictures of us on her wall. Confused, I pulled them down and saw that she’d snapped them while I was sleeping. With her eyes squinted and her black bra slightly exposing her breasts, she was smiling while resting against my chest.

  She suddenly returned to the bedroom and shut the door.

  “What is this?” I held up the pictures before she could say anything.

  “Nothing.” She blushed and walked over, trying to snatch them away from me but I moved them away and pulled her down into my lap so she was facing me.

  “Next time a warning would be nice,” I said.

  “You’d actually pose for pictures with me?”

  “No, but I’ll be sure to take your phone away next time we spend the night somewhere.” I ran my hands against her thighs. “Why can’t you come fly with me this morning?”

 
; “My family is coming into town for that proposal I told you about.”

  “So? You hate your family.”

  “Yeah, well…I need to meet them at the airport in a couple hours and come clean about everything.”

  “What’s everything?”

  “It’s a long story.

  “Give me the Cliff’s Notes.”

  She let out a breath. “They still think I have the same fancy job I had years ago and am doing something with my life. They think I still live on Lexington Avenue, and my mom and sisters are expecting to stay in that apartment, but you know.”

  “You were going to tell them all that as soon as they arrived here?”

  She nodded. “I made them reservations at a Hilton Hotel. They’ll have to pay for the rooms on their own, but I did try to make sure they wouldn’t have to stay here at my apartment.”

  “This is not an apartment.” I rolled my eyes, deciding to hold that discussion for later. “Do you really care about seeing your brother’s proposal in person?”

  “No.” She scoffed. “I know right after, him and everyone else will spend the rest of the weekend talking down to me after they find out the truth.”

  “Then don’t give it to them. Tell them something came up, but you’ve moved to Park Avenue, at The Madison.” I was officially out of my goddamn mind. “We’ll meet them at the airport, say hello, goodbye, and my doorman will let them inside while we’re flying for the weekend.”

  She blinked.

  “What, Gillian?”

  She didn’t say anything. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Where are we flying?”

  “London.”

  “Which airline are we flying with?” she asked.

  “None. This will be a private flight.” I felt my cock stiffen in my pants. “Hurry up and get dressed before I fuck you for the rest of the morning and we never make it there.”

  Gate B32

  Gillian

  New York (JFK) --> London (LHR)

  Hours later, I blushed as Jake held me against his side after we made it through security. Both dressed in casual clothes, it felt different walking through the airport without the demands of work.

  “Will you be flying the private plane alone?”

  “No.” He looked down at me. “We’ll have a relief pilot aboard for midway through the flight and one flight attendant.”

  “Why do we need both?”

  “So you and me can make up properly over a served lunch and fuck in the clouds.”

  “What?” My cheeks reddened again.

  “You heard me.” He smirked, leading me toward Gate 24A, where my family’s flight from Boston was set to arrive. He kept me close as we waited in our chairs, shocking me by kissing me in public every few minutes.

  It was twenty minutes past arrival time when the flight finally arrived at the gate, and as suspected, my family of first-class-only buyers were the first people off the plane.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said to Jake, standing up and walking over to my mother.

  “Well, hello, Gillian,” she said, pulling me close for a hug. “You look lovely this morning.”

  “She does?” Amy chimed in immediately. “You live in the city of fashion and you’re wearing ripped jeans and T-shirt? I guess.”

  “I was being nice, Amy,” my mother said. “I’m sure when we all go out for the proposal later, Gillian won’t be dressed like this. She’ll be dressed like the rest of us. Right, Gillian?”

  Brian shook his head and shot me his usual, “I’m sorry, kid” look. My father hugged me and said he was ready to get some rest, and as I started to pull the keycard for the Madison out of my pocket, Claire began her usual line of questioning.

  “Did you and Ben make up yet?” She gave me a fake look of sympathy. “Or did he realize that he was the real catch and you were the one who needed him more?”

  “Ha!” Amy laughed. “You’re late. Ben has moved on already—I saw a picture of him on Facebook with, shocking! Someone who looks like she’s actually doing something with her life. She’s an author, I think.”

  “Oh, how very wonderful,” my mother said. “Now, that’s impressive. Maybe you can call Ben and ask to be introduced to her, Gillian. Since you edit, maybe you can ask to edit her upcoming books? Maybe she can get you in the doors of a publishing house?”

  I gritted my teeth, ready to finally tell them “Fuck off” for good, but I suddenly felt Jake slipping his arm around my waist—suddenly heard him whispering, “Don’t.”

  “I think you should introduce me,” he whispered a little louder, planting a brief kiss on my forehead.

  “Mom, Dad—” I paused. “The rest of you, this is Jake. Jake these are my parents, Amy, Mia, Claire, and Brian.”

  Brian and my father immediately extended their arms for a handshake, but all of my sisters—even my mom, were standing still and staring at Jake, looking completely awestruck.

  “This is your boyfriend?” Amy asked, blinking a few times as she shook his hand. “This, um, is Jake?”

  “Yes.” Jake answered before I could, keeping his other hand firmly attached to my waist. “I was surprising Gillian with a flight today. I didn’t realize it coincided with your proposal—” He looked at Brian. “But we’ll do our best to be back in time.”

  My sisters nodded in unison as he flashed his pearly whites. This was the first time I’d ever seen them completely speechless and I immediately committed the image to memory.

  “The key, Gillian…” Jake said under his breath. “Give them your key.”

  I pulled the keycard out of my back pocket and handed it to my mom. “I’ve moved to The Madison at Park Avenue. I sent you an email just in case you forget what to tell the cab driver. I’ve already told the doorman to expect you and he’ll help you with anything you may need while you’re here.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her eyes still on Jake.

  “Well, wait,” Brian said. “So, you are going to try and make it back by tonight for the proposal, right, Gillian?”

  “Absolutely.” I gave him my best fake smile, answered a few more questions from him and my father about the city, and then I told them goodbye.

  They walked toward baggage claim and I stared in their direction, catching them throwing glances over their shoulders every now and then until they were out of sight.

  “You ready?” Jake said, minutes later.

  I nodded and he grabbed my hand, leading me toward the newest and smallest terminal in JFK—the one designated for private and charter planes.

  He held up his pass to the only gate agent, and escorted me down the jet bridge and onboard one of the most luxurious aircrafts in the world, a Gulf-Stream 650.

  “Dare I ask how you can afford this?” I muttered, more than sure he wasn’t going to give an answer.

  “I don’t have to ‘afford’ it,” he said, smiling at me. “It’s a benefit of previously flying for Signature. They still have to honor certain things for anyone who reached senior status. Happy?”

  “No. How do you afford your Park Avenue apartment?”

  He smiled again, gesturing for me to sit in a leather passenger chair. He bent down and fastened my seatbelt. “That was given to me by someone special. No, not an ex-wife, and not a trust fund.”

  “Your mother?”

  “Yes.” He pushed stray hairs out of my face. “And before you ask, because I have a feeling you will, it’s the same answer for the watches.”

  “So, technically, you yourself are not independently wealthy?”

  “I wouldn’t necessarily say that.” A smirk crossed his lips. “Have we talked enough for six in the morning yet or do we need to discuss something else?”

  “No, we have. For now.”

  “Thank you.” He tugged at my seatbelt one last time. “I’ll see you when we level out.” He headed into the cockpit and the flight attendant set a tall cup of orange ju
ice in front of me.

  She handed me a four-paged breakfast menu, but I set it down and gripped the handles of the chair to prepare for takeoff.

  Shutting my eyes, I listened as Jake spoke to the other pilot in the cockpit.

  “Flaps—set, transponders—set, De-ice—on, Lights—clear...” his voice began to fade as the plane rolled backwards and away from the gate.

  Not having to fake a smile for watching passengers, I kept my eyes closed as the plane rushed against the runway, as it hit the air full speed and leveled out against the sky.

  Leaning back in my chair, I tapped my fingers against my jeans for several minutes—still waiting to hear verbal confirmation that we were at the proper altitude, but it seemed as if that announcement was never coming.

  “You’re free to move about the cabin.” Jake’s hand suddenly caressed my cheek, causing my eyes to flutter open. His lips curved into a smile. “Were you waiting on me to say that?”

  “Yes, that’s what normally happens.”

  “Only on commercial planes.” He unbuckled my seatbelt and took the seat across from me. “What are you thinking about?”

  “How you can really be a perfect guy when you want to be. What are you thinking about?”

  “Your mouth,” he said. “I’ve missed it.”

  “The way it looks?”

  “The way it wraps around my cock.” He leaned forward and grabbed my wrists, pulling me to him. “I need to ask you a couple of personal questions.”

  “I’ll think about answering them.” I mocked him and he pressed a kiss against my neck.

  “I know we’ve been apart for awhile, but how often do you think about fucking me?”

  “What?” I swallowed.

  “You heard me, Gillian,” he said, his voice low. “How often?”

  “A lot…”

  “Define a lot.”

  “Every day.”

  “Do the two of you need anything to eat right now?” The flight attendant stepped next to us. “Would you like more time to look at the breakfast menu?”

  “No,” Jake said, standing. “We’ll eat later.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the back of the plane, where a small en-suite was tucked away. Shutting the door, he pulled me close and looked down at me.