ℂ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕖𝕠𝕟 𝔾𝕝𝕠𝕨 ➃

30. Games In The Air - ✭ Monica ✭

Holy fricken hell.

That's a jet. We just pulled up to a private jet. Why did we just pull up to a private jet?

I look over to Boston who seems to be gauging my reaction. He bites his lip before gesturing to the jet with, "so, I was thinking... weekend in Vegas? With me? At my place? Dinner out? Night on the town? As you can see the airfare is taken care of."

"Yes!" I unbuckle my seatbelt then launch myself into his arms. "Yes!" His arms wrap around me. "Thank you!"

Once I release my death grip on him, he looks over to the jet again. "It's not too much, is it? I just wanted to surprise you and it be just the two of us instead of having to deal with airports, all that nonsense. That shit is a hassle."

"I mean, it's a private jet. How does one even acquire a private jet?" I've never been on a small jet, a really small plane that made feel like I was going to die—yes, but not this.

"My father bought it. It's one of his jet."

One of?

That's right, Boston's dad is loaded.

We make our way out of the car and over to the jet. After climbing a set of stairs, and being greeted by a very friendly stewardess, I'm smacked in the face with lavishness. This is not at all what I was expecting when he asked me to spend a weekend with him.

There's a giant television in front of a decent sized couch. There's two chairs that look like they recline and three doors in the back. The ceiling isn't a ceiling. I can see through the ceiling. At the sky.

Holy hell.

The stewardess says something to Boston before walking to the front of the plane and entering a door. I hadn't paid attention to what she'd said though. No, I'm too flabbergasted. This is ridiculous; ridiculously nice. Nice isn't even the word it's—

"It's a bit ostentatious, isn't it?" That isn't exactly the word I was looking for. "It's my father's jet and I wanted to treat you but now I kind of feel like I'm coming off as a pretentious dick and a show off."

"Boston, you'd never come off as a pretentious dick. I mean, yeah, it's like a five star jet, but I'm not complaining. This is incredible."

"I just want to make sure it's not like too over the top or anything, you know?"

I nod. "Like I said— no complaints here." I'm now truly realizing he wasn't joking when he said his dad and Bruce Wayne had similarities. Rhoen had treated Amelia and I when we all had gone out together in Boston but I had no idea he had money like this.

I walk over to the middle door feeling curious. When I grab the handle Boston tells me to wait but I open the door anyway. Inside is a bedroom, the bed covered in rose petals. I feel my cheeks flush thinking about how we'd be spending some of our flight in here and the things we'd be doing.

"Okay, I know this basically implies that I want to have sex but—"

"You don't want to have sex?" I quirk a brow at him.

"Well, yeah, I do but I don't want you thinking it's like an expectation or anything."

"I miss doing things with you." A cocky grin plants itself on his face. "But you're right, this," I gesture to the petal-covered bed, "insinuates that you think I have to have sex with you because we're on your big fancy jet. So maybe it's for the best if we don't do anything like that." His features fall completely. On his face is a worried and partially dissatisfied look. "I'm kidding." I swat his upper arm when he looks like he doesn't believe me. "I'm seriously kidding. You'd never make me feel like that. You never have."