Page 72 of Truth, Lies, and Second Dates
“Aw.”
“—and you have an exciting and demanding job that only 0.002 percent of the population are qualified for.”
“You looked up what percentage of the population are pilots?”
“Of course,” he said, because… well… it was Tom. So:of course.“Further, you make self-deprecating jokes about being unintelligent or unkind, when neither of those things are true. Your flight crew holds you in high esteem. My niece, who does not take well to strangers, adores you. So does my bud, Abe.”
“Ooooh, are you trying that? Bud? Is it because I called you his bud and Abe didn’t burst out laughing or throw up?”
“Trial run,” he admitted. “My point: I feel extremely fortunate to have met you. I wish to see you again—and again and again and again—in a socioromantic capacity.”
“All right, I’ve got questions about what constitutes ‘socioromantic’ which we’ll circle back to later. But you’re okay with this, even though we’re both weirdos who live fifteen hundred miles apart?”
“You’re a pilot. Who better to be in a long-distance relationship with?”
“You have won me over with your practical outlook and gold medal make-out skills. Let’s do it—let’s see if we can something-something socio-something. I’m not seeing a downside at the moment. Not a bad omen in sight.”
Tom started to say something when the room instantly went dark. “Whoa.”
Too late, she remembered the room was set up so that ifthe key cardwasn’tin the slot by the light switch, the lights would go off after a couple of minutes.
“We’re not reading into that,” she said in the dark.
“Absolutely not.”
“It’s meaningless.”
“Laughably so.”
“All right. Just making sure we’re on the same page.” She gripped his arms and fell back onto the bed, pulling him with her. “And on the same bed. I meant what I said earlier. I never fuck on the first whatever-this-is. But I love kissing and I love your mouth and your hands and how you smell like clean cotton, so let’s do terrific above-the-waist things to each other for a while and then get ice cream.”
“I think you might be a genius.”
“That’s how low you’ve set the bar now? Hey! Ahhhhh!”
As it happened, in addition to being a Gold Star kisser, Tom Baker was also a devastating tickler.
Thirty-Eight
Terminal C Logan International Airport
THE LIST
Sign suspension paperwork
Return texts
New vibrator
“Sherry!”
“No. Oh, no. Not you. Not again.” But she was smiling. “Seek professional help, Ava, and I say that as a pseudofriend.”
“Back atcha. Gimmee.”
Sherry sighed, feigned reluctance for a few seconds, then grinned and unfolded her cane with a snap of her wrist.
“That always looks cool. You’re like Hela inRagnarok.”
