The Contract // H.S.

Chapter Thirty-Three //

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Chloe
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"Southwest Airlines flight 1839 to New York City now boarding."

The speakers above me remind me never to book a last minute flight like this again, as I am running through LAX with my plane ticket held between my lips because I have no free hands to hold it in. A weekend bag hanging off my shoulder and a small carry-on suitcase being pulled behind me, I am hurrying to catch this flight after spending last night with Harry. I manage to get to the gate just in time and when I get on the plane, I take the only available seat left in business class, just assuming that is my seat for the flight without even looking at the ticket. I don't know what the hell I was thinking buying myself a first-class ticket to NYC at one in the morning, but here we are.

I glance into the row of two seats that has an empty chair, an aisle location. The man sitting at the window looks like an older man, in a suit and most likely on a business trip. He's already asleep. Fantastic. My head is still pounding and I'm hoping to put my ear buds in and get a nap on the way. After shoving my carry-on into the overhead bin and stuffing my weekend bag under the seat in front of mine, I collapse into the seat, sighing as I rest my head back onto the cushion and remember the events of last night.

I hazily remember the car ride back to the house last night. I couldn't even look at Harry, I was still so drunkenly mad. I just wanted to get away from everything, to take a break from all the lies and the weight that crushes my heart whenever I am close to Harry these days. I was feeling suffocated from the walls of this contract closing in on me, boxing me in and trapping me in this devastating place where I know I am in love with Harry and a year from now we won't even be speaking.

So I did what drunk me wanted to do, which was buy a plane ticket to New York City to see Sam for a weekend and have some girl time. At 6PM the following evening. What the fuck was I thinking?

But then we got back to the house, Harry's dominant side came out again and I had two of the most mind numbingly hot orgasms I've ever had. I don't know how he did that but I want more, of that type specifically. I'm starting to wonder if I have a thing for rough sex.

I don't even remember the rest, all those shots of tequila caught up to me and I drifted off to sleep on the couch with Harry next to me. I don't even know if I'm still mad. He told me why he went to dinner with Kendall, and admittedly could have used more tact and grace in the execution of his stupid plan, but he had good intentions. However, I still don't see how asking Kendall fucking Jenner dating advice is a good sign.

"Miss, would you like a drink?" The flight attendant asks. I open my eyes to see her standing next to me. The plane hasn't even begun moving yet.

"Uh," I stammer, "sure.. ?"

I'm not sure what to ask for, it's 6PM and I'm just coming off my hangover from last night.

Screw it.

"Champagne, please. Thank you."

Maybe it will help with my lingering hangover symptoms. She quickly returns with a glass of the golden bubbling liquid, smiling sweetly as she hands it to me. I take it from her and finish the whole glass before she's even had a chance to return to the front of the aircraft. My face scrunches as I swallow the tingling liquid. The attendant passes my seat, eyeballing me questioningly when she spots my already empty flute. I smile embarrassingly at her as she scoops up the glass on her back to the front galley.

The plane is starting to move down the runway now. I glance at the man seated next to me who is still sound asleep, sigh and put my earbuds in my ears. At least I won't have to talk to anyone on this flight. I glance down at my phone, ready to turn airplane mode on, when I see a text from Harry pop up on the screen.