Holding Hands - 1. Chapter 1

With a huff I sit down in the seat that is way too small for a guy like me. How they expect me to squeeze into that I have no idea, if I'm lucky the seat next to me will be empty, but knowing my luck, the biggest prick on the planet will sit next to me taking the whole arm rest for himself, and snore all the way to the USA.

Irrational? Maybe. No amount of rational thinking will change my mind, in itself an indication of my mood. My arms firmly planted on the arm rest, back strait, giving me the ruler-up-the-ass scowl of a proud headmistress my blue eyes ready for a fight as I sit in the aisle seat ready to defend my position.

A long queue of nervous passengers jerk towards their seats. The overhead bins are stuffed to capacity. I fasten up, lean back and close my eyes thinking that no one is going to sit in my seats. Fate laughs at he who is naïve. Me. The last person on the plane has to stop next to my seat. I look up a as he stammers, ‘I think I'm in here...’

Catching a glimpse of his ticket I notice he should be in the seat across the aisle right next to the mom and angelically quite baby soon to turn into a little monster.

Scowl. I'm tired and in no mood for people. All I want to do is sleep. I push out a stubble chin, my eyes narrow, there is an argument forming on my lips. My eyes meet his. What I wanted to say is lost in his steel grey eyes. Dirty blond hair pinned behind his ears. A diamond stud in his right earlobe. My arrogance fades . With an audible gulp I quickly smile and relinquish my seat.

‘Go ahead, ’

I’m cringing at my own lame answer. Mentally cursing myself for thinking with my little head.

He moves to the end of the seats and leans over, pushes his back pack under the seat. My gaze moves to something much more interesting; my eyes lock onto his butt and my mind turns to all kinds of seriously sensual ideas. I’m grinning from ear to ear, that is, until he waves his hand slowly in my line of site trying to get my attention!

My cheeks are burning. Is that water dropping down my forehead? I was so entranced by the perfection and roundness of his cheeks I didn’t notice him sit down.

I can't bear to look up knowing that I have officially made a fool of myself.

... Ding dong...

Saved.

“Ladies and gentlemen the captain has turned on the fasten seat belt sign if we can have your attention pleas we will give you a small presentation on all safety features...”

Finally, I glance at the muscled stud sitting in the seat next to mine and realize he is looking at me. A huge smile plastered on his face. Gray eyes shining. I offer him a small smile. And then the ass- hole laughs. Blushing even brighter it feels like I'm going to bleed, but his voice is like music when he finally notices my discomfort.

‘Umm... Hi my name is Brian,’ he says with a smile on his face.

‘I'm Philipe.’ I manage incomplete smile. So, where are you headed?’ I say, trying to talk my way out of the discomfort. Sometimes I wonder if the galaxy is out to get me.

A grumpy flight attendant hisses at me. ‘Sir, please fasten your seat belt, we’re about to take off!’

Brian snickers, ‘They’re all ways grumpy this late at night. Don't pay too much attention to them.’

‘She’s a bitch. Probably has crabs.’ I’m thinking it would be a good joke. I was wrong.

‘She is my mom...’ he says. For a moment I think he is joking and I crack up laughing. But I’m the only one laughing. I shut my mouth and stare at him. His jaw twitches. I cringe and look away. This is going to be the worst flight ever. I’ve just made the biggest ass of myself possible.

Until he cracks up and laughs from his belly. A deep beautiful sound.

‘Ass hole.’ I mutter, sending him into more fitful laughter. This is definitely not going to be a bad flight. I might even enjoy it.

‘So, do you have a girl at home?’ He asks.

‘Nope. I just got out of a bad relationship.’ I say, diverting my eyes.

‘What happened?’

‘Cheated on me.’ I stare at him to gauge his response.

‘That must have hurt. Man or woman?’

‘Err…man.’ I stutter, trying not to look amazed by the lack of negative reaction.

The engines roar. Suddenly Brian latches onto my hand firmly planted on the arm rest. I want to pull away but his grip is tight.

‘Sorry. I'm afraid of flying,’ he whispers, but the redness in his cheeks tells me a different story.

‘That's ok. You can hold my hand as much as you want. ‘I smile as I turn my hand up to hold his.

END