Two Player Games: (Corrupted 5-8)

by Klaire, Jamie

  He was hot, and it seemed as we chatted in line that he was trying to flirt, but I wasn't having it. He offered to send a drink my way once we got in the air, and asked me where I was sitting. I refused, teasing him with, "I'm not telling you what seat I'm in. You are checking in before me, you might bump me to make sure you and your group gets on."

  He denied any intent to bump me, and by now it was his turn to check in. He said goodbye and I dealt with whatever reason I was back in line again that time.

  Once we had boarded, taken off and settled in, our flight attendant announced that the drink cart would soon make its way down the aisles. When she got to us, she told me I could pick anything I wanted from the alcohol selection, my drink was on the gentleman over there. I turned it down, saying "I told him not to do that. Thank him for me please, but I'm fine with a coke."

  As she handed me a coke I teased her, saying she could have the drink he'd offered me instead, just pick out what she wanted, and shoot it once she got out of everyone's eyesight. She said no, but thanked me and I told her the short version of the story about meeting the flight attendant in line before boarding. She stopped, looking confused, and said, "Him? The guy who bought you the drink? Sitting right over there?"

  When I said yes, she laughed and asked if he really told me he was a flight attendant just catching a ride. I said, "Yes, he did. Why?"

  "He isn't a flight attendant, he is one of our pilots. One of our cuter ones, from the looks of him. I've never flown with him, but I sure wouldn't mind."

  That explained the inside joke laughter from the others when he said it, and the weird bow. He was mocking me. I felt like an idiot. I didn't know from the stripes on his uniform what he was. I didn't care either. I try to treat everyone the same, from pilots to ground crew, restaurant owners to bus boys. I wouldn't have spoken to him any differently had I known what he did for a living, but knowing he had been mocking me pissed me off.

  "You know what? On second thought, I will take that drink. A whiskey, please, for my coke, and tequila for my mother."

  We were sitting in a row of four, with two others sitting next to us. I asked them if they wanted any alcohol, my pilot was buying. They said no, but I did get the couple sitting behind us who was heading to Vegas to get married to order a couple, on him.

  Thankfully the real flight attendant understood, and she didn't limit me to the one drink he had offered. I told her the offer still stands, "Buy yourself one before you hand him the bill. He deserves it. I wish I had the guts to offer everyone on the plane one, but I guess four or five will do."

  "What a pompous ass," I said to my mom as the flight attendant moved on and the four of us opened our drinks. She said, "I'll drink to that. Cheers."

  We had landed and were exiting the plane when we saw him again. He was talking to our pilot and we had to walk right passed him to exit.

  "You are quite the heavy drinker." He laughed as we approached him. "So, I guess you figured out what I was?"

  I think he was expecting me to flirt with him, or fawn over him now that I knew he was a pilot, because he seemed rather shocked and speechless when I responded, "Yeah, I figured out exactly what you were. A liar. Thanks for the drink."

  The look on not only his face, but the other pilot's as well was priceless.

  I smiled to myself at the memory as I rolled over in my pilot's arms. I never thought I would see him again after we walked away from him and off the plane. I was quite surprised when he ended up in the seat next to me on the flight home.

  When the seat beside me was empty until almost time to take off, I thought I would have some elbow room for the return flight. Then I saw someone headed down the aisle toward me, with his eye on the empty seat.

  I was disappointed when I realized that elbow room was not to be, but I perked up a bit when I actually looked at him. He was strikingly handsome in jeans, a t-shirt and carrying a single red rose. He looked familiar, but I just assumed we had seen him around Vegas.

  He put his small bag in the bin above our heads, and then instead of sliding into the empty seat he stood in the aisle facing me, and held out the rose.

  "Please forgive my behavior last time, and for getting myself assigned to the seat next to you, but I wanted to apologize in person."

  "I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong person." I said to him, embarrassed. I looked around at the other nearby passengers. This wasn't normal lemming airplane behavior and he definitely had everyone's full attention. "There is no need to apologize to me; I don't know who you are."

  "It is worse than I thought. I didn't make a bad impression on you after all. I guess I made no impression at all. You have forgotten me already. Once we take off, allow me to buy you, your mom and everyone sitting around you a round. Maybe that will refresh your memory."

  "Oh shit, that was you? I didn't recognize you without that stick up your ass. Please, sit down."

  He said, "I deserve that," and sat down beside me. He tilted the rose he was still holding toward me and continued. "The guy you think I am deserves that. I didn't realize until you walked off the plane that you thought I was serious. I didn't lie to you, and I wasn't trying to be a jerk. I was trying to flirt and kid with you, I just suck at it. Once you left I got your name from your seat assignment. I was going to send you a complimentary ticket and an apology note or something, through the airline. When I tried to, I noticed you were on this return flight, and I was going to be too, so I waited to apologize in person. Please, take the rose, and my apologies, no strings attached, and I really would love to buy you a round. I just couldn't let you think that was the real me."

  "OK, apology accepted, but I've got to ask… Why bother? Why not just let it go? Who cares what I think of you? We probably never would have seen each other again anyway."

  "Honestly? I have no idea. I would normally blow it off, but something about the look on your face when you walked away. There was something about you that nagged at me. I didn't really feel like I had a choice. I had to find you."

  I looked hard at him, curious about someone who would go to this much trouble. He held my gaze, allowing me to search his eyes. He then broke the contact, looking down at the rose he was still tilting my way and then back up to me with a slight smile. He seemed to be asking me an unspoken question, 'Are you going to leave me hanging here?'

  I didn't, of course. I took the rose and thanked him for it. We visited over the next couple of hours, mainly he and I but also with my mom. I liked him a lot more as just the guy sitting next to me than I did as the uniformed pilot trying to flirt. As much as I liked a guy in uniform, he was much sexier in jeans.

  I teased him about how he probably has a girl in every port, so to speak, but he said he wasn't seeing anyone. He said he was based out of Vegas because that is where they had an opening, but he actually lived near me. He would fly to Vegas, put in his time flying out and back until his hours were over, and then fly home for his time off. He said work kept him busy, but he had just recently started. He was pretty fresh out of the Marines, and took their flight training to the commercial level now that he was a civilian again.

  I expressed my surprise at that. I hadn't realized Marines have pilots, too. I hadn't really thought about it, but I guess I figured the Air Force flew them wherever they needed to go, they just jumped out and did what needed doing on the ground. He said that was a common misconception, and not only do they have pilots, but they fly both helicopters and planes. He said you picked one to specialize in, depending on your talents, and he of course flew planes.

  He mentioned that all in all, he had been too busy to date and his life was just now settling into some kind of normal routine. "Plus," He said as we visited, "you have seen how badly I flirt firsthand."

  By the time we landed and went our separate ways, he had my phone number and we had plans to go out on a date the next weekend. As mom and I left the airport, I found myself smelling my rose and quite looking forward to seeing him again.

 
; Chapter 5

  Taking A Shot

  By the time Roger rang my doorbell to pick me up for our first date, I had already changed clothes about four times. The only thing that kept me from changing again was the sound of the doorbell itself. He was here. I took a deep breath and went to let him in.

  He was even sexier than I remembered. Without the irritation of the day we met and the surprise of the day he asked me out clouding my judgment, I was able to look at him just as the hot guy ringing my doorbell for a first date. I blushed as I realized I was still staring at him, without even saying hello. I shook the embarrassment off with a smile, said hello, and reached to give him a quick hug to hide my pink face.

  I felt a shock of heat I didn't expect at the hug. I had my arms around his neck, and I felt one arm close around my waist in return. He held something in his other hand, keeping it behind his back, but it hardly registered. What did register with me was how warm and solid he was against me. I fought an animal instinct to run my hands over his body to see if every inch was as solid as the parts I was touching. It took everything I had not to graze his chest or seek out and squeeze a bicep 'accidentally' as the quick hug ended. Damn it, what had gotten into me?

  After our hellos, he brought his hidden hand from behind his back and I gasped at the large, beautiful bouquet of red roses he had been hiding back there. It looked like a dozen of them.

  "Wow, they are gorgeous, thank you." I said as I reached up on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. I braced myself by placing my hands on his chest to do so. Yeah, I know, but I couldn't resist seeing what that chest felt like. It was worth it, too.

  I took the flowers from him to put into a vase, and asked him to come inside. He followed me to the kitchen as I gave him a quick tour of the place. As I put the roses in water he said, "You seemed to enjoy the rose I gave you on the plane, so I wanted to give you the rest of the dozen."

  He was right. I did a quick count as I arranged them in their vase, there were eleven perfect roses. I laughed and thanked him again, saying, "I can't remember the last time I got roses, and I must admit I have never received eleven before."

  "I don't mean to rush your enjoyment of them, but we should go. We have a reservation we can't miss."

  "OK, let me lock up. Where are we going?"

  "A little place I have always wanted to try for dinner. It's a surprise, but they are not big on lateness. If we are late we will have to think of something else. Ready?"

  "Ready." I confirmed, and we headed out the door. He opened the passenger side door of a pickup truck for me, and as he stepped aside for me to enter I saw another rose lying on the truck seat. This one was a breathtaking peachy-orange color. I had never seen one like that before.

  I turned to him surprised, "A baker's dozen all together. You sure know how to surprise a lady."

  "And the night is still young." He grinned down at me. "I may be bad at flirting, but I am good at surprises."

  We wound our way into a busy part of the city, and he surprised me again when he pulled into the airport. "You are good at surprises. Are we heading to one of the airport restaurants or is this the most romantic, rose-filled kidnapping of all time? I'm not sure anyone I know could pay a ransom demand."

  "It isn't really kidnapping if you go willingly, are you in?"

  "Really? We are flying? Where to?"

  "I'll tell you if you want, or you can be surprised. How much of a sense of adventure do you have?"

  "The kind that if I knew you better and you said 'bring your passport, a bikini and a picture of an elephant' I'd only ask 'a printed picture or is one on my phone OK?' But since I don't know you or have my passport on me…"

  He laughed and said, "No passport needed. This time. I will say I'm not piloting this one, we are flying on my buddy pass so either way you decide, you will know before we take off just by looking at your ticket or reading the screen before we board. Does that make the decision easier?"

  "In that case, don't tell me yet. I'll be surprised."

  We checked in and cleared security, all without me peeking at the tickets in Roger's hand. It wasn't until we walked up to our gate that I looked at the destination on the sign behind the gate counter. San Antonio.

  "How does dinner on the river walk and a sample of San Antonio's night life sound?"

  "Perfect."

  We boarded almost immediately. He wasn't kidding when he said if we didn't make it on time we would have to think of something else. It wasn't long between take-off and landing, and I certainly wasn't bored between them. Not with a handsome date sitting beside me. Once we landed Roger picked up a rental car and before I knew it we were sitting at a small table at the edge of the river, an umbrella in my drink, the rose he had given me tucked into my hair and the sound of nearby bands echoing off the water. You would think the music coming from the various bars and wandering musicians would clash, but the sounds overlapped pleasantly and mixed well with the crowd of people walking along the river. It was dark by now and the river area was lit up with strands of lights that glowed in the reflection of the river. It looked like a scene straight out of a movie.

  "So, this is the little place you've always wanted to try for dinner?" I asked, looking around at the restaurant.

  "No, not the restaurant, I meant San Antonio. The restaurant just looked right walking by, and I'm starving."

  We people-watched and made small talk while we waited for our food. The sound of hooves could be heard over the music and we watched as a horse-drawn carriage went by over the bridge that crossed the river. It looked like it pranced right off of the pages of a fairy tale, decorated in white tulle and softly lit with more twinkle lights. Roger said something about that being romantic, right up until the horse had to go to the bathroom directly in front of you, since the carriage was being pulled right behind the horse's hind end.

  I giggled and said, "That's what the bow is for."

  He paused, looking at me over his drink. "What do you mean?"

  "See the big white ribbon tied in a bow around the top of his tail?"

  "Yes." He said, cranking his neck to get a look before the carriage turned out of sight.

  "That is there to hold and hide the plug." I said, trying to keep a straight face, making this up as I went along.

  The horse had moved on and Roger's attention was skeptically back on me when he said, "Seriously?"

  "Oh yeah, that's how they keep the street so clean. They have these big horse-sized plugs with a handle on the end. Kind of like a baby's pacifier but a lot bigger. They plug the one end into the horse to stop any embarrassing, stinky accidents. They tie one end of a ribbon around the plug's handle, and the other end gets wrapped around the tail in a pretty bow. He's good for a few hours that way. Once they get back to the stables, they unplug him."

  He looked at me funny, and was about to say something when our waiter showed up with a tray piled high with food. Roger really was hungry. He'd asked the waiter to consult with the chef and bring out a sampling of their favorite dishes so we could try their recommendations of what was not to be missed from the menu. They didn't disappoint. By the time we left we were pleasantly stuffed with the best food and drink the place had to offer. We decided to join the crowd walking beside the river, it gave us a chance to talk some more, and to walk off the decadent food.

  I felt Roger's hand grace the small of my back as he guided us around a family that had stopped in front of us to take pictures. Once we cleared them, his hand shifted to my elbow and then slid down the inside of my arm to settle into mine. It left a tingling trail in its wake and I felt a small glow begin to build inside me as we walked the river hand in hand.

  We strolled along the river, passing more restaurants, bars, ice cream parlors, t-shirt shops and booths selling tickets to ride the riverboats. Some riverboat rides were just tours but others offered dinners as well. Kids and families spilled out of souvenir shops, and couples and groups of adults spilled out of famous bars like Coyote Ugly and the Duelin
g Piano Bar.

  As we passed a smaller, hole-in-the-wall bar, Roger asked if I played pool. I answered with, "Well, I do get my monies' worth on a quarter table- I can play all night long on a dollar."

  He laughed, knowing that meant I was really bad at it. Quarter pool tables usually require you to insert four quarters per game. You slide the quarters in to release all of the balls. As you play pool, the balls that go into the pockets become trapped inside, until the game is over and more coins are inserted. Being able to play all night on a single dollar meant that even though I kept hitting the balls, they never went into the holes to be trapped.

  "I do manage to get a few trick shots in though," I continued. "That usually confuses people. It makes them think I'm hustling, and playing badly on purpose, but, I have found that the more I drink the better I play."

  "That sounds like my kind of game. Want to play?"

  "Sounds like fun, but don't say I didn't warn you."

  We ducked inside a small pool hall that had a band playing. No quarter tables here. This bar was one where you rent the table by the hour. Roger signed us in and left his credit card at the bar. They gave us a tray of balls and assigned us a table in the back. It was perfect, we could hear the band but we didn't have to yell over the music to be heard.

  A waitress came around as Roger was setting up the balls and we each ordered a drink. He asked if I wanted to break but I declined. As he bent over the table, concentrating on the breaking shot, I took advantage of his attention being on the shot and let my eyes wander over him freely.

  The curve of his ass as he leaned over, the coiled power in his arms and shoulders as he lined up the shot. The way the muscles played underneath his shirt as he adjusted his angle. He really was a sexy man. All that military physical training looked good on him.