uncomfortable.”
“It’s all fair. I trapped you on a tiny airplane. I can handle a few stupid butterflies.”
“Stop,” I softly admonished. “Let me have this.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve got a massive house, a fancy job, and an MBA. You own an airplane,” I listed off. “I’m not afraid of butterflies. Let me beat you at something.”
“I didn’t realize it was a competition,” she frowned.
“It’s not,” I assured her. “But you have to admit—you’re kind of intimidating.”
She pointed a finger at herself. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” I laughed. “You have all of this confidence. All of this swagger. And I’m such a haphazard, awkward mess.”
“Can you stay the night?” she blurted out.
The unexpected request had me stammering. “I-I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to stay. It’s not a pity ask.”
Honey would be fine another day on her own, but I thought about the long Monday I would be creating for myself. I would have to go back to my apartment in the morning before I was expected at the airport, not just for a shower, but I also needed my uniform. My blazer was dry-clean only, but I’d still have to iron and starch my blouse and pencil skirt. I would have to squeeze a grocery trip into my workweek, too, since my Golden Days were usually spent running errands. I had every reason to go directly home whenever we flew back to Detroit and only one reason to spend another night with Anissa.
My voice was unsteady; my reply nearly caught in my throat. “Yeah, I can stay.”
+ + +
I sank into the thick pillowtop mattress. The material puffed up around me like I’d submerged myself in marshmallows.
“Your bed is ridiculously comfortable,” I groaned in approval. “How do you ever get up in the morning?”
Anissa reclined only a few feet away from me in her bed, but even that distance felt too far. After flying back from Mackinac Island, we’d showered off the day and had shared a quick dinner of leftover burgers and brats from the night before. Her thick hair was still damp from the shower. She’d pulled it away from her face in a tight bun, like a ballet dancer. She looked magnificent without makeup.
I made another groaning noise. “I’m so not looking forward to work tomorrow.”
The day had felt like a vacation from my real life, and I really didn’t want to go back.
“My job would be great if I didn’t have to deal with passengers. I get it. People get stressed when they travel. But we end up becoming their punching bags, and that’s not fair. They throw up in little paper bags and just hand it to us.” It was a practiced rant—one I’d often complained to my friends about. “And when they’re not puking, they’re ignoring us and forget to say please or thank you. It’s just ‘give me a Coke’ or bitching that our flight ran out of complimentary Chez-its.”
“Have you ever thought about becoming a pilot?” Anissa posed.
I shook my head. “It’s a totally different job. It’s like being a doctor versus a nurse. I take care of people. I keep them comfortable. I’m not a bus driver.”
“You’re doing a very good job keeping me comfortable,” she smiled in approval.
“Did you always want to be an HR consultant?” I laughed at my words. “Okay. Dumb question.”
“I may have been a precocious child, but even I have limits,” Anissa grinned. “No. I probably wanted to be a veterinarian or a pop star.”
“You sing?”
“Only in the shower.”
“I think I’d like to witness that,” I murmured. I ran my hand along her torso, feeling the delicate ribs beneath her skin. I traced my fingers in a light path against faint tan lines. I could see the high-cut outline of the bathing suit she’d been wearing by the pool the previous day.
“Are you Out to your family?” I asked.
My question was generic and full of assumptions. Maybe she didn’t identify in any particular way. Maybe she simply enjoyed having sex with whomever was a convenient body.
“I told them when I was in high school,” she confirmed
“Were they okay with it?” I asked.
I was probably asking too personal of questions, but I felt safer about it considering we’d had sex in multiple rooms in her house.
“Not at first, no. My parents are pretty traditional, but not as bad as if they’d grown up in Lebanon. They thought I was too young to be having sex, period, let alone know that I