MILE HIGH CLUB
The blonde flight attendant stares at me, eyes green with envy. I get it, girl.
I stretch back in my seat and look out the window. It's one giant cotton-candy cloud oblivion. Brooks is to my left, occupying the aisle seat. He makes it looks like a throne. My phone is charging on the partition in front of me. I jump when the condensation from the champagne bottle dribbles off the center table and falls onto my bare knee.
I know, I know. Dawn's too early for bubbly. Judge us.
Meg's empty glass refracts the sunlight into thin rays that bounce around the first-class cabin.
Brooks bought out the entire cabin. Well, Star Resorts did.
I know, right?
It's just the 10 of us up here, catching that glorious morning sun and some less glorious dirty looks.
We're an hour in and the excitement is as much in the air as the plane is.
So how'd I end up here?
I ended up flying back to Jersey so we could all take the same flight down together. A waste of air travel, I know, but Brooks insisted. And resisting Brooks is a battle I can't win. A battle I don't want to win.
"What are you thinking about?" Brooks asks, leaning into my neck.
I laugh and shrug him off, his warm breath tickling my face, OK exciting my face.
"I'm thinking..." I bite my lip. "We should have taken the private jet."
"Stop," Brooks laughs at me. "Knew first class wasn't enough."
"Not nearly," I laugh.
"Come on, really," Brooks urges, looking me over. "What are you thinking about? Right now."
"Trans-Atlantic walkabouts?" I confess. I did spend the better part of the last hour fantasizing about Brooks and I traveling abroad to foreign lands and numerous exotic local. "It must be the plane."
"Must be," Brooks agrees.
I lay my head back on the lounge and stare at Brooks, his face painted golden-pink as light floods the first-class cabin.
"Really, I'm thinking about this," I admit. "This every day, every year. I could get used to this." My eyes flit to his. Their sea-blue is ever changing. But today they are my favorite calm. The color I see when I close my own eyes.
It's clear by this I don't exactly mean flying first-class to a Caribbean island getaway.
"I know," Brooks whispers. His melodic voice is so quiet, no two other people on the plane can hear us.
It's clear by his I know that Brooks does know. He gets it. Gets me.
I've never felt so safe or so secure with anyone else on the entire fucking planet. Like, our whole world could come crashing down and it wouldn't matter if we were together.
That kinda this.
Trix is talking about wedding bouquets. Travis is pretending he cares. Alex and Whit 100% disappeared into the bathroom like 20 minutes ago. Meg has headphones in and I see Lauren reading some trashy romance on Wattpad. My own tablet is tucked away in my bag in the overhead. Doesn't matter.
Brooks is the best way to occupy my time.
We do a little hand stuff. Very PG. Just a teaser for the rest of the week.
...
The captain announces our descent into Miami and everyone snaps out of their respective stupors.
"Awesome," Nate says, rubbing his hands together. "Almost there!
"What do you all say to shots? Oh come, one just ONE." Alex shouts over the rest of us.
Everyone agrees and Alex calls over the green attendant. Her spirits drop and smile wavers as she realizes it's not Brooks that's calling her over.
"Of course, right away," she says to Alex, flipping her ponytail in a very Lauren way.
Gotta love first-class treatment.
She returns moments later with a bagful of assorted nips. We pass it around like a pillowcase full of candy at Halloween. Vodka. Whisky. You name it. Brody tosses the bag to Brooks and he fishes out two bottles of honey-color liquor. Tequila. Fuck.
I take the tiny bottle and can legit smell it through the plastic.
Everyone unscrews the caps, patiently waiting, and looks at Nate to make some sort of toast. He shrugs and nods at Brooks.
I feel Brooks shift beside me, taking only a second to think. A grin spreads across his face. He puts his hand around my shoulders, kisses my cheek, and holds up his Jose Cuervo.
"To shots," he says.
Everyone looks around and at Brooks like he's lost his mind.
"May this be the first of so many that we've already lost count," Brooks laughs.
Another hour (and several shots) later, we are unloading onto the sunny curbside shuttle pick-up. Ah, the memories.
Maybe it's just the champs or the sun, but everyone is already glowing. The vibes are real.
The same brightly colored shuttle bus pulls up next to us. Brody goes to talk to the driver and Brooks pulls up our bags.
"Guests of honor, please." Brooks ushers Trix and Travis onto the bus first.
It's completely empty apart from us. No other Star Resorts patrons allowed.
The air conditioner blasts in my face and I welcome the 20 degree temperature drop.
Brody shakes the drivers hand and takes a seat next to Lauren.
"Welcome to Star Resorts' complimentary shuttle bus." The driver's voice comes from the overhead intercom. "Please stay seated until we reach our destination, the Mobile Star. Current arrival time is eleven minutes. Thank you for choosing Star Resorts. We hope you enjoy your stay."
Famous last words.