Page 34 of Revelry

“No, I need it.”

“If you hate flying this much, why do you do it?”

“Because it’s kind of hard to have a world tour without crossing the ocean in a big-arse metal box.” He winces and swallows hard. “Christ. I need a drink.”

“Coop, let go of the jacket. You’re sweating. You’re going to pass out.”

“That’s kinda the plan,” he says, and his knee is bouncing like crazy.

“Okay, if we’re going to make you pass out, we’re going to do it the right way.” I push the call button for the flight attendant. The same awestruck woman that dragged me into business class comes to tend to us.

“We need booze. A lot of booze.” She twists her perfectly painted red pout into a grimace and I say, “Please? He’s really freaking out. I’m sure he’d be happy to send your boyfriend a signed guitar.”

Cooper scowls at me and I give him an “it’s your funeral” glare. He glances up at the woman and says, “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“I don’t want to impose—”

“I’ll make sure he sends something nice,” I assure her. “Now, the alcohol, please?”

“Any preferences?”

“The strongest thing you have.”

She nods and scurries away, returning to us a minute later with four empty plastic cups and eight tiny bottles of Vodka. I pick up one, unscrew the cap and hand it to him, deciding that he can keep his jacket for a little longer, but as soon as he’s wasted that thing has to go. It seems a shame to cover up such nice arms. He downs one bottle after the other until he’s consumed four of the drinks. I take one for myself, because damn it, after the sleepless night I had at Zed’s and on the first few hours of our journey, I need a good hard drink … among other things.

After he’s tossed back another he fiddles with the air con above our heads, and whispers, “Is it hot in here?”

“It’s because you have on that jacket. Take it off and I won’t need to freeze to death under this air con.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Take off the fucking jacket, Coop.”

“You could do it.”

“Fine, come here. I’ll take it off for you.”

I grab the lapels of his jacket and slowly peel one side off his shoulder, and then I peel off the other side and push the sleeves down his arms. I can’t help tracing my fingers over his hot flesh as I remove the jacket and fold it, placing it on the seat beside him. His eyes track my every movement, and his breathing disturbs the few strands of my hair that are hanging down from my messy top knot as it washes over me.

He licks his lips, his eyes trained solely on my mouth now. I’m like a zookeeper in a lion’s cage, wanting to back away, but not daring to make a move in case he lunges.

“Coop,” I whisper. “Have another drink.”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, but he doesn’t move to take one of the bottles, he just buries his head in his hands and rocks back and forth. I glance across the aisle. Deb, Leif and Ash are all asleep, but Zed’s watching us with a huge goofy grin on his face. He gives me a thumbs up and I roll my eyes, turning my attention back to Coop.

I touch his shoulder and he turns his head towards me, but he doesn’t sit up. “Hey, you’re going to drink this, and then you’re going to tell me something that you’d normally be too afraid to tell someone.”

“Like what?” he asks, sucking back the last drop in the bottle and slapping his fist against his broad chest.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Surprise me.”

“I want to take you in the bathroom and fuck the shit out of you until we touch down.”

“Okay,” I exhale in a loud rush. “How about something less in your face.”

He slowly sits up and reaches for another bottle of booze. “I knew I couldn’t keep my ex. I knew the second we left town for the city that she’d go running back to him. I knew she wasn’t in love with me, and that it would more than likely make her miserable, and yet I dragged her away from everything she knew because I wanted her, and I wanted my baby.”

“Wow. That’s … um … definitely more than one thing.”

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