A line had formed, but the gin made it clear waiting wasn’t an option, so I walked to the back of the plane. Thankfully, there was no one waiting, and I stepped into the stall. It was ridiculously cramped. I struggled to take off my pantsuit and finally managed to get into a sitting position, trying not to touch anything. I hated public restrooms. I finished my business quickly and then tried to put the pantsuit back on, but the stall was small. After a five-minute struggle, I somehow got it on, but my elbows kept hitting the walls on both sides, and I couldn’t zip it. I’d had a little bit too much to drink, and this was getting exhausting pretty fast. Why? Why now?
A quiet knock on the door startled me.
“Are you okay?” Of course, it was him. Why not?
“Hey, Luke. Yeah, I’m... sort of okay.” I tugged the zipper again, slamming into the wall, and yelped in pain.
“Are you sure?” I heard a smile in his voice.
“I’m...” What do I do? “Can any of the girls come help me with something? It’s sort of... a girl problem?”
“Oh...” Luke’sohmade me realize what I’d just implied.
“No, no, not that... ugh.” I pushed out a breath and pulled myself together. There weren’t many options. If I go back unzipped, my boobs would fall out.
“I can’t reach my zipper in this stupid stall.” I closed my eyes and sighed with embarrassment.
A much lowerOhcame from Luke.
“Okay, I’ll help. Let me in.”
I paused, reluctant. I unlocked the door and pushed my head out.
“Please, don’t laugh at me,” I said, my face dead serious.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he said, his voice steady. “Besides, I’ve worked with plenty of zippers in my day.”
He was talking about his sex life. The air shifted, and we both felt it.
“I’m sorry,” he added quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. Let me help.”
He somehow managed to squeeze into the tiny stall, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the cramped space.
“I assume the zipper’s on the back. Turn, please.”
I hesitated but reluctantly turned my back to him, pouting as I faced the wall.
“It’s caught on some fabric. Hold still,” he said.
His hand moved to the zipper, lower than I would have liked, and fumbled there for a moment. I felt every tug, every small snag as he worked it free. When it finally slid open, goosebumps rippled up my spine, though the cabin air was warm, stifling even. His hands radiated heat, and I was absurdly grateful he couldn’t see my face. I closed my eyes, trying to convince myself it was out of embarrassment, not from the way his fingertips grazed my skin. The plane jolted with a patch of turbulence, and without thinking, he anchored me with one broad palm at my side. The contact was so sure, so protective, that I exhaled a faint, betraying sigh. I tried to hide it, but I wasn’t doing a very good job.
His fingers returned to the zipper, drawing it upward this time. Painfully slowly, might I add. Deliberate. Controlled. Likehe wanted me to feel every single inch he closed, to know he wasn’t in any hurry. Like he knew exactly what it was doing to me.
He’s the devil. He had to be.But my thoughts and logic didn’t matter right now. I tried to stay still, but my back slightly brushed his chest, and I leaned into him. Suddenly, we weren’t in a plane’s bathroom stall anymore. No, we were in a soft bubble. Just the two of us.
The zipper in his hands slowly climbed, but with how wedged we were, our bodies touched in more places than I cared to admit. I could feel the gin on his breath against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. There was no way he didn’t notice how my body reacted. I felt his hair brush my head as he seemed to hesitate, deciding whether to lean into me, too.
“All zipped up,” he whispered, his voice unsteady, before clearing his throat.
I blinked and turned toward him, suddenly aware of how loud my breathing sounded in the quiet. The air between us felt charged and heavy, like it might spark if either of us moved too fast. I swallowed, my throat dry, catching the faint scent of his cologne beneath the alcohol—something clean and warm, like the comfort of someone else’s sweater fresh from the dryer. That tiny moment of absolute delight, the sudden sense that you’re allowed to hold onto it for a while, just like I was allowed to hold on to this moment with shitty bathroom lighting and the subtle, effortless crinkle at the corners of Luke's eyes.
“Thanks,” I managed, my voice softer than I intended. His eyes locked onto mine, beautiful and intense. I felt uneasy at how calm I was in this moment.
Neither of us stepped back right away. The fabric of my suit was warm where his hands had been, and I could still feel his fingers along my spine. Like ghost of Christmas past reminding me of my regrets. The faint clatter of a trolley and a rippleof laughter pressed through the walls from somewhere nearby, but the sounds barely reached me. Up close, there was only the awareness of how easily I could lean forward and close the space he’d rudely left behind.
“I think we should...” I began, but I couldn’t move, even if I had the space to. “People might get the wrong idea,” I said quietly.
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” he joked, but his eyes stayed serious.
