“Hey. I’m Dwayne. AKA: Your final destination.” Pause. “Uh, you know… in your search for Mr. Right.” Longer pause. “Which is me. Uh, Dwayne?” Nervous laugh.
I grab hold of my stomach, laughing so hard I can’t breathe.
“Shhh, be quiet,” he says, chuckling. “I don’t think I’ll show you the photo he sent me. You’ll wake up the whole town.”
“Well, now I have to see it.”
I squint at the screen when he faces it my way. My eyes widen as I laugh at the photo of a man wearing a Darth Vader mask, grasping his very large penis. It’s nearly as big as the light saber he’s holding in his other hand, and just as stiff.
I shrug, like it’s no big deal, even though I’m disturbed by the size.
“Eh. I’ve seen bigger.”
Adam nods. “My reaction too.”
I giggle, and lean forward, stretching out my back.
“You could always get back up here.” He smiles at me. “I’ll behave. I promise.”
I’m not sure I believe he’s capable of behaving himself, but I reluctantly climb back up, and wriggle under the covers. I snuggle into the pillow, already a thousand times more comfortable.
“I think we need a change of subject,” he suggests.
“Okay,” I say.
Probably a good idea.
“So … caterpillars, huh?”
I cringe. “Why is everyone so shocked by that?” I shudder. “They’re such evil looking little creatures.”
“Are you kidding me?” His soft chuckles cut through the darkness, making me shiver. “Evil? They’re the most non-threatening creature—”
“They’re creepy,” I say firmly. “And ugly.”
“But butterflies,” he says, as if nothing more needs to be said.
“Don’t get me started on butterflies,” I grumble. “They’re worse. I bet you’re not afraid of anything, huh?” I say, when his response is to laugh.
“I can’t help it if I’m tough.”
“So, nothing scares you at all?” I shake my head, not believing it. “Everyone has fears. Not admitting to them might be one of yours.”
“Thanks, Doctor Katie. How much do I owe you for tonight’s session?”
I smile into the darkness.
“First session is free.”
I lie there in the silence as one topic dies down and we search for another. I check my phone for the time. My eyes widen. How the hell did it get to three in the morning? We’ve been talking for nearly three hours. My eyes are getting heavy, but I’m enjoying it too much to end it just yet.
“So …”
I jump at the sound of his voice, a shiver racing through me.
“Were you really saving your virginity for me?”
I literally die. I grab the pillow from under my head and attempt to smother myself—or at the very least, trying to block the sound of his soft laughter out.
“The mouse with the sweater?” he continues in a low, husky voice. “It’s now the third cutest thing in the world.”
“Good night, Adam,” I retort, my voice frosty.
“You know, I was only half joking when I said I could make your fantasies a reality. It’s still an option—”
“I’m sorry, but that ship sailed a long time ago.”
I curse Darcy for making it sound like I’m still a virgin.
“Well, fuck.” He sighs. “There’s nothing worse than missing a flight you really wanted to be on, because you only found out about it after it’d already left.”
My heart races.
Is he saying …
I shake my head. He’s just being stupid. But the flying analogy gets me thinking …
“Tell me again; why didn’t we fly back?”
“I told you. I have to escort—”
“Us home, I know,” I say, rolling my eyes. “That doesn’t explain why you couldn’t get on a plane with us?”
“Because we’re driving.”
I frown at the sudden roughness of his voice and stare into the darkness.
And then it hits me.
“You’re scared of flying, aren’t you?” I accuse him.
“What?” he scoffs with a little too much enthusiasm. “No, of course not.”
“Yes, you are,” I say. I laugh, because this is perfect. “Well, how about that. Big tough Adam Jenkins can’t get on a little tiny plane,” I tease, in my cutest baby voice.
I smile at the silent reception my dig receives.
“What’s wrong?” I ask lightly. “Can’t you handle it when someone makes fun of you?”
“Is this making you feel better?” he asks. “Because if it is, then by all means, continue. I guess I just never thought of you as the type of person who’d get off on exposing someone else’s weakness.”
My smile disappears, because he just sucked all the fun out of that in one sentence. I’m not sure if he’s really hurt or if he’s just messing with me, but now I feel like a dick.
“I’m sorry,” I say, genuinely feeling bad. “So, what scares you about it? Did you have a bad experience or something?”
“No. There’s no reason, other than the fact that it combines three things I hates; small spaces, crowds, and burning to death in a sea of crushed metal.”
“You know driving a car is more dangerous than flying,” I point out.