49• Your Future Mac And Cheese Husband

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49• Your Future Mac And Cheese Husband

ALL Alex needed to do to get past the shock of my surprise was to step on the private jet and take it all in

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ALL Alex needed to do to get past the shock of my surprise was to step on the private jet and take it all in. The interior was all-white with soft carpet, white recliners, and a long, curved white couch that sat in front of a TV. Off to the side of the couch, there was a mini-fridge with beverages. My favorite part of the entire jet was the secret snack compartment underneath the couch, which I opened as I sat down, pulling out a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels, my after-basketball snack obsession.

Alex sat beside me after I grabbed us two drinks (Coke, of course). Her eyes searched the entire jet and the pilot came back for a moment to inform us that we were about to take off. It would only be around a 20-minute flight to Malibu. Alex rested her head easily against my shoulder as the plane took off.

"You are so fucking rich," she muttered. "No, you know what? You are so good, Jesse Campbell. A fucking private jet? Who are you? Christian fucking Grey?"

I chuckled. "I hope I'm not Christian Grey. He had some weird fetishes," I said. "Plus, you need to stop complimenting me. My ego is going to get too big for my head to hold and then I'll explode."

"Well, if you explode, at least maybe I'll get to hijack your jet," Alex joked. "Though, I don't think I'd want to be on this jet alone. And I wouldn't want to share it with anyone but you."

I leaned down and kissed Alex's cheek. "20 minutes and we'll be in my favorite place in California."

"Why is Malibu your favorite?"

I had so many reasons. "You'll find out when we get there," I said.

The flight was quick, though it would have been over 2 hours if we had opted to drive to Malibu instead, only because of the terrible traffic. Flying was optimal and, like I said, bougie as hell.

When the plane landed in Malibu, I grabbed Alex's hand and led her off the jet. As requested (I know how rich and privileged this is going to sound), there was a car waiting for us.

"You're shitting me," Alex said.

I pulled her towards the car after thanking the pilot. The car was a vintage white convertible, but I knew that Alex had an eye for vintage cars. She let go of my hand to run her hands along the clean exterior of the car. I held up my hand, wiggling the keys in front of her.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

"Oh hell yes," Alex said, not hesitating before hopping in the car. I got in the driver's seat and pulled off of the runway and out of the private airway, directly onto the roads of Malibu.

The drive was scenic, and with the sun completely set, the light illuminating from the moon and the cars, streetlights, and the lights from buildings in Los Angeles and Santa Monica in the distance made the atmosphere perfect. It was warm and we drove with the top down, Alex's right arm extended out to the side letting the wind pass. I looked over at her every so often, watching her take everything in. She told me that she'd been to Malibu before, but her family never really made the trip. She said that they usually vacationed in Colorado when they traveled.

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