My attention is caught on what he’s holding in his hand. It’s a small black shopping bag. Looks expensive. “What’s that?”
Remembering it, he holds it out to me, dangling it on a long finger. “Oh. For you.”
“You got me a present?” And then I amend: “When did you get me a present?”
“I asked my assistant to have something sent over.” He lifts his chin for me to take it. “When we were in the elevator last night.”
This feels vaguely Pretty Woman and I’m not sure how to feel about it. But I take the bag and peek inside. Whatever it is, it’s wrapped in heavy black tissue paper, and when I pull it free, I am both delighted and horrified.
“The dress is fine,” he says quietly, “but I didn’t want you getting on a plane with nothing underneath.”
I stare at him, strangling my smile between my teeth.
He winces. “It’s weird, right? Am I being weird?”
“It’s incredibly sweet,” I say, laughing, “if not a tiny bit weird.” It’s simple, beautiful, and functional—as much as a pair of satin-and-lace underwear can be. “This is definitely a first for me as far as one-night stands go.”
“Well…” His lips purse in a scowl as my words sink in. “How many have you had?”
He seems to immediately regret asking, but I tease back, “How many have you had?”
Alec stares at me, eyes narrowing. “All right.”
“Thank you for this.” I stretch to kiss his cheek. Cheek feels safe. Not boyfriend, my brain whispers. I focus on the gesture rather than the reality that his assistant had women’s lingerie delivered to his hotel room during his unexpected layover. How standard is that kind of request? Did they even blink?
Whatever. It solves my underwear dilemma, and I’m choosing to be thankful for it. “I’ll be a lot more comfortable on the plane now. I mean it.”
“Speaking of comfort.” He pauses and then nods to the bag. “There’s something else in there.” Alec reaches up, scratches the back of his neck. His skin is flushed again, his movements unsure.
I feel around, and my fingers find a stiff piece of paper.
It’s a ticket.
The blood drains from my face. “Alec. This is too—no. You cannot buy me a first-class ticket for a flight from Seattle to LA.”
“It’s not a big deal, Gigi.”
“It is to me. A very big deal.”
He steps closer, cupping my face. “You haven’t slept. Even before last night you were exhausted.”
“Which is exactly why I could easily pass out in a coach seat!”
“If you don’t want it, you still have your other ticket.” He leans in, resting his lips on mine. It does something weird to my heart, this kiss. It’s unquestionably our last one. “You’ve really given me a gift, just being here.” Stepping back, he looks down at his watch. “I’ll head to the airport separately. I have some things I need to do. But I’ve arranged for a car to get you at six.”
My heart has fallen into my stomach. “Okay. Wow. Thanks—thank you. For the car and the room. And the underwear and the ticket.” I feel awkward the longer this list gets. “And the drinks,” I say. The next words come out before I can stop them: “And the great sex.”
He laughs. “It was great. Unbelievable, really.” He backs out of the bathroom and closes the door only after giving me a final “Take care, Gigi.”
* * *
As much as I think I won’t, I look for him at the gate, growing increasingly worried when he fails to appear. Once I’m in my seat, I watch every person pass by and wonder, Did you end up getting my coach seat? Are you making it home also thanks to Alexander Kim? Where is he? Did he give me his ticket?
And in fact, Alec is the last person on the plane. He boards wearing a baseball hat, sunglasses, and with his phone pressed to his ear.
As he passes my seat, 1B, he gives me a tiny smile but doesn’t stop to talk.
Of course, the first sign that I was missing something important was Alec’s small speech in bed this morning. But the second is maybe more obvious: All three flight attendants come over to greet him within only a few minutes of him sitting down. Two rows behind me, on the other side of the aisle. 3C, my brain screams. Which means, he can see me, but I can’t see him unless I turn around to look.
I need a distraction and bend, pulling out my phone before they tell us to go into airplane mode, texting Eden.