Saving Tin Man (#Wattys2014)

Chapter THREE

(Hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. Comments and especially votes are my lifeblood. The more I get the more I am inspired to write. thanks!)

Chapter Three

I get off the plane and Justin is right behind me ushering me forward. I yawn and look around, pausing mid stride so abruptly that he bumps into me.

"What?" He asks, looking down to make sure I didn't forget my backpack, as if I might have left it behind.

I look up at the sky and then back to him because something is majorly wrong.

"What time is it?" I panic.

He looks at his wrist and I'm mildly surprised to find he's old fashioned enough to be wearing a watch. Nothing against watches, but everyone has a cell phone these days and watches are pretty much a thing of the past or a fashion statement. His is all nice and stainless steel.

"Quarter after eight." He says.

What?! When we had gotten on the plane it was...it had been around eight or nine in the afternoon.

The flight had taken TWELVE HOURS! When we had left the sun had already set, but here in Paris the sun was barely up.

"Oh my God! Why didn't you wake me up? I slept almost the whole way!" My voice is pitchy, but I don't care.

I'm panicking because I didn't think it would take that long; I only had a few hours to get some parachutes and find my way to the tower. Not to mention I'd only had that tiny drop of pudding so I was starved to death and most importantly?

I really had to find a bathroom. You would think I would have used the one on the plane, but I hadn't planned on leaving a dozen hours of my life behind on that flight while I was asleep. My family tree must really be screwed up because if I'm related to Scissorhands, then there's a good chance Rip Van Winkle is in there as well.

"Where to?" He asks, standing there looking all hot, eyes all smoldering and the morning sun glistening off his tattoo covered skin.

Erm. I mean standing there just looking at me. Geesh.

I almost blurt out "bathroom" but I don't. I stand there like a statue and feel like a moron because let's face it ladies, the last thing you want to mention around a guy or crowd of people is the fact that you desperately have to pee. It's stupid but it's a little known fact about women that guys don't often pick up on. It's why women go to the bathroom in packs, so no one gets singled out as the one that has to go really bad.

"I'm going to get some food." I say, hoping there is a restroom near the restaurant so I can just slip away unnoticed. It's an airport terminal so it's not rocket science to know one goes with the other. Except everything is in French and I don't speak a lick of it, so that's going to make it hard to order anything.

"Ok great. Get me something too, I'm gonna run to the bathroom. That was a killer, long-ass flight." He stretches his arms over his head with fingers interlaced and I hear a 'pop' from his back. His stretch is a powerful display of muscles and dominance, showing off every muscle on his upper torso, even if it wasn't meant to be. I can't avoid ogling the showing of his well defined stomach muscles as his shirt raises up just enough to see...

Oh my God. That is one nasty-looking, pink scar right above his belt line. Whatever did that to him had been sharp and wicked.

He strides away from me in the direction of the bathrooms and I feel like my feet are glued to the floor. Do I get food like I told him I was going to or give in to necessity and follow him to the bathrooms?