Page 144 of The Last Word
I hate for Ryan and Mimi to have been right all along, but it turns out that the redundancy was a shake-up that helped me after all—I’m proud of what I’m doing and I’m excited for whatever comes next.
When we arrive at the airport, Ryan screenshots my boarding pass and sends it to me so I have it on my phone to go through the barriers to join the security queue. Wheeling my case behind me, I get the pass up on my phone and then stop in my tracks.
“Hang on. The flight isn’t until midday.”
“Yes, that’s right,” he replies coolly, encouraging me to carry on walking.
“You said it was at eleven.”
He smiles smugly. “I did.”
“Why did you say that?”
“To get you out of the house on time.”
“Ryan!” I look at him incredulously. “You lied to me!”
“I told a little white lie to make sure we got to the airport early, which is what you’re supposed to do before an internationalflight,” he explains without a hint of remorse. “If the flight was really at eleven, then we’d only be here an hour and fifteen minutes before takeoff, which is much too late.”
“That is the perfect amount of time!” I argue.
“The airline recommends two hours.”
I throw my hands up in the air. “Who arrives at the airport two hours before their flight?”
“Smart, organized, happy people. We’ll have no stress or rushing getting to the gate. We can enjoy a drink beforehand. This is the way to do it, trust me,” he says cheerily, strolling toward security.
“I can’t believe this,” I grumble, stomping behind him and dragging my bag behind me. “You made me rush around getting ready this morning for no reason!”
“We both know you would have still been rushing around getting ready this morning, even if you’d had the extra hour. Nothing would have been different.”
“That is not true! I would have had a luxurious time getting things packed,” I counter.
“Now you can have a luxurious time waltzing around the terminal with no panic about missing the flight.”
“That’s the last time you’ll fool me. From now on, I’m in charge of booking flights so there won’t be any chance of you pulling the wool over my eyes again.”
He sighs, turning back to stop me and wrapping his hands around my waist.
“I think from our Prague experience we both know that it’s not a good idea for you to take charge of travel plans, wouldn’t you agree?”
I blush at the memory, before stubbornly saying, “I still maintain that the hotel got the dates of our stay wrong, not me.”
“No question.” He grins, dipping his head and kissing me on the cheek. “Even though your booking confirmation stated thesame dates the hotel had, it makes much more sense that they were somehow at fault.”
I exhale as his lips brush along my cheekbone, sinking into him as he holds me close. It’s very difficult to argue with him when he does this. My brain is compromised and my line of thinking becomes scrambled due to the fluttering deep within my stomach.
“All right,” I say, unable to fight a smile, “you can be in charge of travel plans. But I get to be in charge of travel snacks.”
“That seems fair,” he murmurs against my skin, his hands pressed against the small of my back so that I arch into him as his lips make their way to mine. He kisses me, a long, deep kiss that drowns out the hubbub of the airport surrounding us, before pressing his forehead against mine and giving me one of those knowing smiles of his.
“I thought you wanted to get through security for a luxurious couple of hours waltzing around the terminal,” I say, closing my eyes and grinning.
“No rush,” he says, finding my hands and threading his fingers through mine. “We have all the time in the world.”
I don’t usually let Ryan have the last word. But as he leans in for another kiss, I decide that I might just let him have this one.
