My Last Resolution(11)

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.” There’s sympathy in her voice. “Go ahead and pre-pay for it online. I have my card ready.”

I pull up the Marriott’s website and type in the dates. The second I click “reserve,” the words “SOLD OUT” appear on the screen.

“It’s sold out, mom...”

“Just look up another hotel, hun. They can’t all be sold out.”

Twenty minutes pass and I realize that they can be. They are all in fact sold out.

Across from me, a family of five starts to set up camp on the floor. Airport employees are handing out pillows and blankets, and there’s an announcement about discounted snacks at all the magazine shops.

“I’m just going to stay here.” I wave at a man walking down the aisle, signaling for him to throw me a pillow. “It may give me inspiration to finally write something.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Wait, Paris. Wait...” She hesitates. “I invited Adrian over to talk. He should be here in any minute, so if you want I can put you on speaker phone and maybe be the mediator between you two. I really think you’re going through something, and you’re just blaming Adrian for—”

“Goodbye, mom. I love you.” I hang up. I should’ve known there was a reason she wanted to keep me on the phone. She and I hardly ever talk for more than three minutes.

I grab my things and walk down the aisle, searching for an empty spot. I need to be alone for a while.

For half a second, when my mom had mentioned Adrian wanting to talk, I’d felt a lump crawl up my throat. In the past—whenever Adrian would hurt me or do something selfish, I would let that lump build and build until the tears came. And then I would cry until I couldn’t cry anymore.

Not today.

I find an empty bench in front of a window and place my pillow on its edge. Before I can get comfortable, I hear a familiar voice behind me.

“Do you need a place to stay tonight?”

I look over my shoulder and see Blake smiling that flawless smile, looking more perfect now than he did on the plane.

“No, I don’t. Thanks for the offer though.” I turn around and fluff my pillow.

“Paris...” Blake walks in front of me and kneels down, grabbing my hand—making my body react against its will with that one simple touch. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here overnight.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure it is. Everyone here has had to go through security, so I doubt anyone has a weapon. Plus, there are cameras every few feet. Oh, and since TSA thought I was extremely suspicious hours ago, they’re probably watching me right now. I think I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t.”

“Who cares?”

“You should stay with me tonight. I don’t think you’ll get much sleep here.”

As if on cue, a woman sits on the bench across me and rocks her crying newborn.

“Do you not remember what you said to me on the plane, Blake? Do you honestly think what you said should make me comfortable enough to go home with you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it didn’t. You saying that my lips were f**kable—”

“They are.”

“And that you would be f**king me against the seat if we were alone didn’t inspire any confidence. It told me to run far, far, away. And that’s what I plan on doing. Now, go away.”

He sighs and looks into my eyes, giving me a look of complete sincerity. “I only said those things because I honestly thought I would never see you again.”

“So, that makes it okay?”

“No, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you at all. I’m not very good at light conversation.”

“Clearly!”

“They’re closing all the restaurants here so you’ll only be able to buy junk food. The restrooms are going to be crowded at every gate, and it’s going to be noisy because there are no enclosed rooms. You shouldn’t stay here.” He actually looks concerned.

“That was a very compelling and persuasive argument, Blake. I can tell your years in law school were well spent. That said—”

“What do I have to say to get you to come home with me?”

“There’s nothing you can say. I don’t know you, I don’t trust you, and I’m also not having sex with you.”

“I didn’t ask you to have sex with me tonight.”

“But you will in the morning if I go home with you, right?”

He blinks.

“Oh my god! No, just no.”

“I’m not going to ask you to have sex with me, Paris. I’m not even going to ask you to share my bed. You can have the guest suite to yourself.”

“Does it have a separate bathroom?”

“It does.”

“A door that closes and secures from the inside?”

“Yes.” He locks his eyes on mine.

“Is it far away from your room?”

“Very far.”

I sit still and look into his beautiful eyes, wanting to say yes, wanting to say “to hell with it” and finally do something spontaneous, but I can’t bring myself to do it.