Unworthy (The Worthy Series Book 1) Page 21

  “Need a pen?” he asked.

  “Actually, that’d be great.”

  He riffled through his camouflage backpack and pulled out a black ballpoint.

  “Thanks.”

  I did my best to concentrate on Sudoku, truly I did, but every time I entered a number, I’d end up scratching it out until the paper looked like it bled black. The truth was I’d spent the last few years making some monumental mistakes about my life. I’d spent last night staring at the hotel ceiling, taking stock and coming to some hard conclusions.

  My life as I knew it needed a reboot. My dream man hadn’t arrived for me in high school or in college. I’d had several almosts in my twenties, and this weekend I’d been sure Ben Gupta was the one. Boy had I misjudged him. Although, according to Ben, I’d been misjudging myself. I was the girl every guy liked as a fun Saturday night date. The girl up for anything.

  Silly me. I’d thought being the fun girl was my ticket to lasting love. If I wasn’t the uptight girl dragging men to weekend farmer’s markets and whining about commitment, surely they’d have an epiphany and realize that I was the perfect woman with whom they’d want to settle down. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

  Well, no more. I was done putting myself on the line for love. Love was going to find me. In the meantime, I’d be completely celibate. I’d only sleep with a man if I had his ring on my finger. I’d re-virginize myself. That was a thing, right?

  “You okay there?” Aidan asked. “Whatever it is, I promise the magazine was an innocent bystander.”

  I gave him a sideways look, which he obviously interpreted as an invitation to butt out. But did he listen? Oh no, he didn’t.

  “Want to talk about it?” he asked.

  “To a stranger? No thank you.”

  “I’m the perfect stranger to talk to,” he said. “I’m leaving for a foreign country. We’ll likely never see each other again.”

  I paused my blackening of the glossy magazine page, which by this point had several gashes on it. His idea had merit, but no, I wasn’t much of a confessor except to my best friend, Andi. Only this time I wasn’t looking forward to rehashing my horrible weekend with her. She’d warned me not to follow Ben out to Phoenix for his work conference. But stupid KK, always dashing headfirst after love.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I finally told Aidan. “I was an idiot, but I’m not anymore. I’ve changed my entire philosophy on life this morning. You’re looking at a smarter KK O’Brien.”

  Instead of looking impressed, Aidan looked amused. “Your entire philosophy? Really? In just a morning. I’m impressed. It takes most people at least a day.”

  I didn’t know him well enough to punch him not-so-lightly on the arm, so he had to settle for my best scathing look. “I was speaking metaphorically.”

  “Sounded hyperbolically to me,” he said.

  “I’m impressed a teenager such as yourself knows such a big word.” If he could dish it, surely he could take it. My words rolled off him as easily as desert sand soaked up a raindrop.

  He grinned. “I’m twenty-four. Not a teenager.”

  “And I’m thirty, so to me you are an infant.”

  “I’m old enough,” he said with a sexy smile that had me revisiting my re-virginized state. No, he was six years younger than me. Too young.

  “Old enough for what?” I asked, falling into his snare.

  “Old enough for everything you’d want to use me for.” His look told me exactly how he’d like to be used, and whoa momma, perhaps six years wasn’t the hurdle I’d thought it’d been.

  “You wish,” I said, finally daring to give him that light punch on his biceps. I couldn’t help be myself around him; he was too outgoing and friendly to ignore. It was like punching the shell of the airplane, only harder and alive with warm skin.

  All his humor was suddenly gone, and he leaned in slightly toward me. “I do wish, Kristen Katherine. I’m wishing for a lot of things right now.”

  Our eyes met and the world stopped for a moment until I managed to shake his mojo off. “How do you differentiate between the women you have fun with and the women you take home to your mother?”

  He blinked.

  “Never mind.” I was embarrassed that I’d blurted such a personal question to a stranger.

  “No, wait. I want to answer you. I just wasn’t expecting that question. Also, I’m twenty-four. Haven’t taken any girl home yet.”

  “But how will you know her? How will she be different than the girls you simply…” I hesitated, then put on my big girl panties and blurted it out. “The girls you sleep with, because I suspect every man I’ve ever been with sees me as a fun girl. ”

  “You remind me of my older sister; bet you want to get married too.”

  “Duh. I’m thirty. I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life.”

  “And like I’ve told her, that’s not a reason to get married. Get married because you can’t imagine another day without talking with that person, because that person makes your day sunnier. Don’t get married because you don’t want to be alone.”

  I hated that this stranger was so smart at twenty-four. “I want all those things,” I finally said. “I want to find the person who gives those things to me.”

  “It’ll happen for you,” he said. “Stop trying so hard.”

  “That’s my problem. I don’t know how not to try.”

  “You’re not trying with me,” he pointed out.

  “You’re not a contender.”

  He winced. “Ouch. How would you be acting if you thought I’d have potential?”

  I thought about it for a second and then swiveled in my tight seat to fully face him. Our thighs brushed and I lay my palm on his muscular forearm, which was intriguingly covered in some serious ink. My voice got low and sweet. “You’re so brave for going to the Middle East and protecting our freedom.”

  He blinked. “Wow. You turn it on strong.”

  “I do not. I was simply letting you know I was interested.”

  “Yeah. Interested in hitting the back of the plane and joining the Mile High club.”

  Now it was my turn to wince. “How do you suggest I let a guy know I’m interested?”

  “Do nothing.”

  “What? That won’t work.”

  “KK, you’re gorgeous. Like smoking hot. Just by walking into the room, you’ll have every man’s interest. Let them come to you.”

  “What if the man I want doesn’t come to me?”

  “Then he’s either gay or taken.”

  I laughed. “No, seriously.”

  “Look him in the eye and give him a slow smile.”

  “For real?” I slapped at his forearm gently. “You should write bad romantic movie scripts.”

  “I know of what I speak.” Seeing my doubting look, he said, “Seriously. I may only be a baby in your mind, but I know guys. We like to be the hunters. If I go after a woman in a bar and she takes my bait, I want to feel successful. I don’t want her falling into my lap. Too easy.”

  His words made sense and matched up with what Ben had told me about being the fun girl. I hadn’t made men work for it. And according to Aidan, I was worth working for. My friend, Andi, had told me the same thing, but coming from a woman, I hadn’t internalized her message. But hearing it from a twenty-four-year-old who looked as if he could have any woman he wanted, helped the message sink in.

  “I think you may be onto something. I’ve been thinking I’d stop attaching meaning to my dates and envisioning marriage by dessert. I need to go the opposite direction. A new celibate KK.”

  He put his hand over his heart. “No, I beg you. I have a night in DC tonight before I head out tomorrow. Don’t make a poor soldier spend his last night of freedom in a cold lonely bed.”

  I laughed and pushed his arm gently. “Nice try, Aidan. But you’ve convinced me. No more sex until I’ve made a guy work for it, and I mean work for it.”

  “You’ll be engaged by next week,” Aidan s
aid.

  “I’ll invite you to the wedding.” There was a smile on my face for the first time in forty-eight hours.

  WE SPENT THE REST OF THE FLIGHT chatting easily about our lives, work and all the other things you talk about with a stranger on a plane. I realized I was more relaxed and comfortable talking with him because I knew it wasn’t going anywhere.

  I didn’t have my marriage goggles on, and for the first time in a while, possibly since elementary school, I was seeing clearly. When the flight came into its approach for landing, it seemed natural to grab Aidan’s hand and hang on for comfort through all the normal bumps and jostling of landing a plane.

  He helped me get my bag from the overhead and then we strolled through the airport together toward our next flight as we were both headed to the same place on the same flight. What were the odds?

  We got to the next gate only to encounter a mass of people standing around with their baggage, but there was an angry tension in the air as if the crowd would start rioting at any moment.

  “Go see what’s going on.” I nudged Aidan. He pushed his way through the crowd, but his mission was moot. The television screen at the gate giving the flight status changed from “Delayed,” to “Cancelled.” An angry murmur rose up through the crowd, then turned to retorts and useless epithets shouted to the hapless gate agent.

  Cell phones were pulled out of thin air as everyone began calling someone to let them know of this change in plans. Aidan threaded his way back to me, an unhappy look on his face.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Massive snowstorm on the east coast. All major airports are closed.”

  “Oh no,” I groaned. “Snowmageddon Two. This time it’s personal.”

  He laughed but looked worried. “This is going to be a mess trying to get out of here. I’m glad I built in a day’s cushion to get to my flight, or I’d be FUBAR.”

  I looked up into the face of the man who’d become a friend over the past three hours and couldn’t think about myself. “What should we do? Any ideas?”

  “I have to be on the charter leaving DC forty-eight hours from now. I may have to fly a few more hops to get my ass there.”

  “I guess we better get in line.” I pointed to the people forming a somewhat organized queue at the desk to try to get re-ticketed on the first flight out.

  Aidan looked at it, a line creasing his brow. “No, don’t go there. Let’s head to the lounge.”

  “Lounge?” I followed, tugging my bag behind me as he hurried toward an unknown destination.

  “USO lounge. It’ll be quieter and faster there to call the airline and get on flights out.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  As it turned out, nothing was flying in or out of any of the airports near Washington DC until the earliest tomorrow morning. I was stuck in Dallas with twenty dollars in cash and a maxed out credit card, dammit. I was thirty-years old, wasn’t this the kind of thing that stopped happening in your twenties?

  It was getting close to late afternoon and I still hadn’t had lunch. I was getting a little light-headed.

  “We might as well make the best of it,” Aidan said. “Ever been to Dallas before?’

  I hurried to keep pace with him as he walked through Terminal D, dodging the hordes of angry stranded passengers. “Uh, no. Should we leave the airport? What if a flight opens up?”

  He paused and gestured around him at the desperation and resigned acceptance of people whose plans had changed thanks to that bitch, Mother Nature. “We’re going nowhere for at least twelve to sixteen hours. Let’s go find a restaurant and a hotel.”

  I stopped walking next to him and he spun to see why I’d frozen.

  I gave him a bright fake smile. “I think I’ll stay here. But it was great meeting you. Good luck in Afghanistan.” I held out my hand for a handshake, but he didn’t take it, instead stepping back toward me, a scowl on his face.

  “You’re ditching me?”

  Not voluntarily. “No,” I protested. “I…”

  He waited for me to speak, but I was humiliated admitting my financial woes to a younger guy. I shuffled through my purse for a minute, eyeing my wallet, which was empty save for a twenty and a wrinkled dollar bill. “I kind of blew my budget on this stupid weekend. I can afford lunch but not a hotel room tonight,” I finally admitted.

  A thoughtful frown crossed his face and then he grabbed my hand with a smile. “I’ll treat for lunch, and I’m going to expense my hotel room tonight. You can crash there too.”

  I frowned at him doubtfully. “I don’t want to take advantage. I can’t stay in a hotel room with a stranger.”

  He looked down at me. “KK, if you had met me in a bar, and I invited you back to my apartment, would you have gone? According to what you told me on the plane, yes. This will be different though. No sex. Just two friends sharing a hotel room to save money.”

  “I don’t know,” I said doubtfully.

  He gestured around the crowded airport. “What are your other options? Sleeping on the floor here tonight?”

  Put like that, the choice was easy. I squeezed his hand gratefully and walked alongside him. “I’ll treat for lunch. I’m not totally broke, but you convinced me. I will take you up on the hotel room.” I halted a few feet later. “Hang on. I’m breaking single girl rules.” I pulled out my cell phone to call Andi, my best friend, who answered on the second ring.

  “How’s Phoenix, you lucky girl? I’m up to my ears in snow,” she answered.

  “Phoenix sucked. Ben sucked, and I’m stuck in Dallas with a lovely guy named Aidan. I’m about to leave the airport with him, so if you never hear from me again, his name is…” I held up the phone to Aidan’s face. He grinned and grabbed the handset.

  “Aidan Dominguez, sergeant in the United States Army. Born March 11, 1991, in San Diego. I’m six foot two with brown hair and brown eyes.” He recited his email address, his shoe size and ended with, “And I prefer boxers.” He was silent for a moment as he listened to whatever Andi’s response was and then handed back the phone with a grin. “She wants to talk to you. Privately.”

  I took my phone and stepped away a foot and turned my back to Aidan.

  “1991?” Andi shrieked in my ear. “I’m not sure he’s legal. I have to do the math.”

  “Twenty-four,” I told her, “and it doesn’t matter, because he’s my new friend. Maybe my new best one if you don’t stop hyperventilating in my ear.”

  “What is going on?” Andi asked.

  “The snowstorm at home cancelled all flights. I’m stuck here unless I take Aidan up on his very nice offer to split a hotel room, purely as friends. Two beds I’m sure.”

  “Why can’t you pay for your own hotel room?”

  I lowered my voice and put a hand to cup the receiver. “Because, thanks to Ben, I spent a few hundred dollars on this airplane ticket and on a hotel room in a five-star resort when he turned out to be sleeping with his co-worker.”

  “Oh, KK, no. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he was The One, but I didn’t think he was a cheater.”

  “I bet he’s not when he’s in a relationship, but he didn’t think we were in a relationship.”

  “What an ass. I’ll pay for your hotel room.”

  “That’s sweet, but not necessary.” Andi was recently married and had just bought a house with her husband. She didn’t have extra bucks to spare. “I might not sleep with Aidan, but I definitely want to see him in those boxers.” I felt Aidan at my back. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow. Bye.”

  “You want to see my boxers?”

  I spun, only to find my nose at his chest. His wide, muscular chest, a chest I suddenly wanted to caress and explore. Now, I was reevaluating my just-friends stance and thinking about my new celibate policy. Maybe I didn’t have to be celibate.

  I could sleep with Aidan without adding any unnecessary emotional weight to the sex, right? He was not husband candidate material. And he was leaving the country tomorrow. I pu
shed at his chest, copping a feel underneath my palm. Oh, Momma, yum. “I bet they’re Mickey Mouse or Sponge Bob boxers, aren’t they.”

  “You’ll never know, because we’re just friends. Friends in separate beds tonight.”

  I couldn’t read his face, whether he was joking or not. “I may have spoken hastily,” I said. “I’m not much of a planner. Let’s play things by ear.”

  He grabbed the handle of my suitcase and started walking toward the airport exit, via baggage claim, where he had to grab his army duffel. “I call bullshit, KK. I think you plan every detail of your life, and that’s why this no husband thing freaks you out so badly. You planned to be married by now, and life isn’t working according to your calendar.”

  I trailed after him, then hurried to catch up so I could throw his words back in his face. Except…he was one hundred percent correct. I was a total life planner. The greatest birthday gift you could buy me was a pretty day planner where I could file my life by color, and of course, I backed it all up on my computer with organization software. “So what if I like to plan? Better than being caught off guard all the time.”

  “Nothing wrong with planning, but life tends to throw curveballs. You have to get good at duck and run.”

  “Is that something you learned in the army?”

  “Sure.” He smiled laconically as he said the words, but I got the sense he’d learned about life’s curveballs way earlier than when he enlisted. At that point we were at the escalator, which took us down into a swarming mass of angry travelers looking for their suitcases, which of course, were missing.

  “Holy…” I breathed.

  “Go sit on the bench over there,” Aidan pointed. “I’ll find my bag and know to meet you there. Otherwise we’re going to get separated in this cluster.”

  With military assurance, he strode into the teeming crowd and I lost sight of him a few seconds later. It took me longer to push my way through to the prescribed bench and take the last remaining seat. For the next twenty minutes, I checked email and bookmarked the three hotels nearest the airport that were for a tight budget but likely clean. I was starving, but I figured a hotel room near the airport was going to be a hotter commodity that would go faster than a table at a restaurant.