Her eyes flicked from person to person as the crowd trickled in through the revolving doors that separated the terminals from baggage claim, looking for his. Brooke bit her lip nervously and cracked her knuckles, unsure of what to do with her hands while she waited. Then, as a family of four stepped to the left, she locked eyes with him, her soft brown to his ice blue and her stomach fluttered. He was finally here, and she briefly thought back to when this all first started.
Their 20-year reunion invite came via Facebook, mailed invitations clearly too passΓ© for the class of 1999. The response was lukewarm on the event page -- most people having kept in contact via, well, Facebook. But more than two-thirds of the small class -- just over 100 graduates -- still RSVPed. Corey, who lived out of state, had posted "Where can I crash?" Brooke liked the post, and a few minutes later, he sent her a private message: "hey, how've you been?" It had been less than 20 years since they'd spoken, but still quite a while. They dated briefly in college, but the relationship fizzled when Brooke transferred to an out of state university with a better business program. In the interim, she graduated, Corey did not; he married, had kids, and divorced, and she did not.
Quickly, their messages became flirtatious, then suggestive, though Brooke, now in a serious relationship, teetering on becoming engaged, feeling the tick-tock of the biological clock, remained reserved. Still, she couldn't deny the thrill of excitement she felt when she checked her phone and found a message from him.
As the reunion approached, Brooke had agreed to pick Corey up from the airport and take him to a hotel near the reunion venue. Now, at the airport, she lifted a hand to wave, smiling anxiously, as he walked toward her, stopping half a step away from her and pausing before pulling her into an embrace. The hug was less friendly, decidedly intimate. Corey tucked his face into her neck and she felt the graze of his lips just under her jaw line. Her stomach fluttered again and her breath caught in her throat. She tried to focus her thoughts on her now-fiancΓ© -- they had gotten engaged the previous month -- and found the thoughts flitting away like leaves caught in a gust of wind.
Corey pulled away from the embrace and sexual energy crackled between them. Brooke laughed self-consciously and asked the usual questions one asks a traveler as they waited for his bags. He never took his eyes from her, even as he reached for his bag from the carousel, and they exited the airport. She chattered about her own day, random bits of gossip and nonsense that zipped through her mind and out of her mouth.
Stop talking, fool,
Brooke commanded herself as they reached the car, and she took a deep breath, exhaling another laugh.
She turned to look at him and meet the depths of those Caribbean blue eyes. Corey had a soft smile on his lips and without hesitating, pushed her back up against the car door and kissed her. Brooke's hands immediately went to his chest to resist him, but upon feeling the firmness of his pec muscles, she felt a rush of desire and melted into him, eagerly kissing him back, parting her lips to allow his tongue to find its way to hers. Corey's grip tightened around her waist, pulling her hips toward his firmly, and she felt the heat between them spread down her body and begin to emanate from between her legs. After a few moments, they parted and she began, "Corey, I..." he stepped back and grinned boyishly at her, holding his hands up in mock resignation. "Sorry, sorry...just couldn't help myself. Won't happen again."
The hotel was only a few minutes away from the airport, to her relief. Her legs had the jelly like feeling that comes after an adrenaline rush drains away and more than once she hit the brakes too hard and gunned the engine a bit too much. When he laughed at her skittishness, Brooke smiled coyly and admitted, "I kinda feel like a teenager around you. Just like old times, huh?"
She reminded herself of her plan:
just drop him off at the hotel. Don't get out of the car. You'll do something stupid.
However, when they pulled into the hotel parking lot, she parked in a spot and turned the car off, as if knowing all along the pretense of dropping him off was just that. Still, they lingered in the silent car for a few moments before he spoke. "Wanna come up for a bit? No funny business, I promise." Corey held his hands out as if to show that he had no weapons, no intentions, hidden in them. Brooke hesitated before agreeing and reiterated, "No funny business."
As Corey checked in, she looked around nervously, though doubtful she would bump into anyone who would recognize her. It was hard to separate how much of what she was feeling was anxiety about being found out and anticipation of what was to come. In both high school and college, they had fooled around a bit, but had never had sex, something they'd talked about at length in their messages the last few months. "What was wrong with us?" Brooke had joked. "The ignorance of the young," he'd replied. "We probably always thought there would be another opportunity."
Is this it?,
she wondered.
No,
she told herself firmly,
we're just keeping up the flirting game, that's all.
Once in the room, she kicked off her shoes and perched at the edge of the bed, while Corey settled in a bit, unpacking and exchanging quips about former classmates. Suddenly she was gripped with indecision, realizing the precarious situation she was in, and she stood up quickly.
What am I doing
, Brooke thought,