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I could feel him shake his head, as difficult as it was. “No. I don’t know.”
I groaned in frustration. Did I really have to spell it out for the man. Fuck it, I was going to crash into the ocean with him draped around me like a cape and both of us would probably be eaten in one gulp by a passing shark.
“Does he exude sexual tension when he walks into a room?!” I bellowed out.
“I... I guess... you should know anyway, you’ve already met him.”
I turned my neck and managed to somehow look him in the eye. I squinted. “What the hell did you just say?”
Before he could muster an excuse, the pilot came over the intercom, telling everyone to brace themselves, the plane was going down. Instead of doing that I of course just had to look out the window one last time, to see the wing that had somehow managed to carry us as long as it had. With the sound of Cash’s voice echoing in my ears, I placed my hand on the window and gazed at it, willing it to just hang in there.
Now, you can call me crazy all you want, but I think the damn thing heard me, because the next thing I saw was green fields speeding below not more than a thousand feet.
“For the love of God, get your head down!” Raul grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me down. This time I listened, and I thank the universe that I did.
Never being on a plane before, I couldn’t tell if the pilot hit the brakes or if the squealing coming from the tires, was a normal occurrence. However, I was pretty sure that we should have stopped by now, considering the sound went on and on.
“Shouldn’t we be stopping by now?” I muttered.
“We aren’t at Heathrow,” Raul hissed.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It means the tarmac is running out... hang on!”
The squealing of the tires stopped only to be replaced by the sound of something being pelted into the underbelly of the plane as we jostled about. Amongst the crying and screaming from my fellow passengers I sat there with my head between my knees, happy to know that we weren’t going to become shark bait. With one last shudder, we skidded to a standstill.
“Can I sit up now?” I asked.
Raul did just that. Taking his cue, I threw myself back against my seat and started laughing hysterically.
“What is wrong with you?” Raul asked.
I wrapped my arms around my belly and looked at him. “You... you said Cash exudes sexual tension!”
“I didn’t...”— he shook his head. — “...I didn’t say that.”
The stewardess came over the intercom just then, instructing everyone on how to get off the plane.
I grinned as I unbuckled my seat belt and stood to retrieve my Goodlife bag in the compartment above. “Yeah, you did, or at least you agreed that he does.”
He waited for an elderly woman to pass by him, and then he stepped into the isle, letting me go in front of him and said, “That was under duress. I didn’t mean it.”
I waited as the flight staff helped the elderly lady onto the inflatable slide and watched as she slid down to the ground before I sat down. I turned and looked up at Raul. “Call it whatever you want, you still said it.”
Before he could answer, I slid down yelling, “Weeeee.” Like a fool of course because evidently having a near death experience made me feel like a kid again. Allowing myself to be lifted by the hands from more flight people, I stood on shaky legs and looked around at my surroundings. I was still doing that when Raul decided to join me.
“So, would you like to elaborate on what you said earlier about me knowing Cash?”
“I didn’t say that...” He had the decency to try to cover his lie with a cough at least.
“Riiiight...” I pursed my lips and nodded slowly, knowing exactly that he would deny it. “Well, one thing you were right about, we certainly did run out of pavement.” I pointed to the front wheel of the plane just under the nose. There it sat, with no more than a foot of ground to spare. The pilots in the cockpit had a front row view of a green valley below.
I watched as Raul visibly shuddered at the thought of what could have happened if the pilot had delayed anything by even a second. I tried to throw my arm around the big guy’s shoulders in an attempt to offer comfort but gave up and settled for his waist. “Come on, there’s a bar over there. Let’s go slam a couple of shots back!”
“No, we can’t just leave... Cashel will be... concerned.”
“Let him be,” I said, as I made my way under the plane and headed straight for a table at the back of the bar.
