What? How was that even possible? She was freaking gorgeous, and even in high school I'd been intimidated.
I shifted uncomfortably and tried to open my mouth to speak, but she kept talking. Was she talking about the same girl I danced with all those years ago?
"In college I made out with two guys. One was a McDonalds' employee. He smelled like fries. I hate fries."
Mental note: She hates fries. Who the hell hates fries?
"The other had a preference for garlic. He said it kept the vampires away. As you can see, I only dated nerds because, news flash, I am a nerd. I'm a chemist. I like safe. I like white walls. I drink wine and watch Netflix on the weekends, and I already have my eye on two cats to at the shelter. I may as well settle into spinsterhood early. Now can we please stop having this discussion? It was embarrassing enough waking up without no memory of my first time with a guy let alone…"
I tried not to react. My loud inhale mixed with a gasp probably didn't do well to shield my shock.
"Just forget it." Beth opened the magazine.
"Beth, look," I licked my lips, "I didn't know. I mean, I didn't..." Well shit. How in the hell was I going to get out of this one? Or make it better. I did the only thing I could think of doing or maybe it was for lack of thinking that I pulled the magazine out of her hands and pressed my mouth against hers.
Again, let's revisit the situation. Being under severe amounts of stress can cause a person to make bad choices. Clearly. Because kissing her was probably the worst idea I'd had in the last hour. But she'd looked sad, and she'd basically just told me that she'd given me her virginity, and then her green eyes had gotten all glossy with tears, and I'd panicked. Yes, I, Jace Brevik, US senator, panicked in the face of a woman almost crying.
Her lips were just as soft as I remembered. I coaxed them open and moaned as her tongue shyly touched mine.
"Are you married?" a squeaky voice asked.
I pulled back and glanced up. A girl who looked to be about eight was hanging over the seat in front of us, staring. Her pigtails bobbed on the side of her head as the plane hit a bump of turbulence.
"No," I said, eyes narrowing, body still pounding with lust. I was kissing a complete stranger. Kind of. Well, not really. Damn it.
"My mommy says that boys and girls should only kiss when they're married."
"You're mommy's living under a rock," I grumbled.
"No, she's right here." The girl pulled back and then shrugged. "She's sleeping. Sometimes she puts special juice in my cup so she can sleep on the planes."
"I want special juice," Beth said under her breath.
The girl giggled but still didn't turn back around. And I was left to wonder how a soccer mom had been able to sneak alcohol by security. Why hadn't I thought of that?
The girl kept staring.
To be honest, it was freaking me out. Don't get me wrong. I liked kids. I patted their heads and kissed their cheeks during photo-ops, but in my mind there was nothing freakier than a horror movie with a little girl in it. It gave me the creeps.
And this little girl looked exactly like one who could star in her own horror movie.
Clearing my throat, I tried to look away, because the longer she stared the more I was convince she was going to take the plane down with her. In a moment of clarity, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a piece of wrapped candy and held it out to her. "Want some candy?"
"Stranger danger, nine-one-one, stranger danger, nine-one-one!" the girl started wailing.
"Just a guess," Beth said, an amused smile plastered across her pretty face. "But I'm gonna bet her mommy also told her anyone who offered candy was living in an unmarked van down by the river."
Within seconds, mama bear turned around and glared at both me and Beth. I held up the candy like a white flag, hoping the woman wouldn't slap me, or worse assume I was really going to take her daughter. Masking tape her mouth? Possibly. Kidnap? Hell no.
"You give my daughter candy?" she asked in a gruff voice.
"I was trying to be nice." I gave her my best politician smile.
"Be nice to someone else. We're all full here, and if you offer her candy again, I'm voting Republican next term."
"Nice." Beth chuckled once the woman turned around.
"What?"
"She knew you! Yay! Another vote in your favor." She held up her hand for a high five. I glared.
And that was it.
Note to self: Life isn't like the movies, and Beth isn't like any other girl I've ever met.
I'd just had my tongue in her mouth, and we weren't sitting there having a conversation about what it meant for our new relationship. She wasn't doodling my name on her magazine. There were no birds chirping above her head, and no, Celine Dion did not start playing randomly throughout the plane. Instead, she was acting like she had amnesia.
She was acting like she didn't care that I'd just kissed her.
What did it mean? Why the hell had I kissed her? Did that mean we were sharing a room? Was I dating? I didn't date! I tugged at the collar of my shirt again and gasped for more air.
Holy shit.
Not only was I following in Jake's footsteps.
But I'd turned into a woman.
I half-expected birds to start chirping around my head as cheerleaders danced down the aisle with tampons.
Because for the next hour all I could think about was not putting my arm on the armrest for fear that it would brush against hers and she'd think I was doing it on purpose.