The Gang Girl

Chapter 39- Moving Bombshells

// OMG TWICE IN ONE DAY! FEEL BLESSED//

"Perks of being in a rich family, you get a private jet." I sigh, leaning back in the leather seats of my chair as the plane's engines were started up.

"And you don't have to worry about restricted luggage." Xander looks at me, raising an eyebrow.

"I swear, I did not pack all of that. My gang grabbed whatever they thought I would need when we came to Los Angeles." I roll my eyes at him.

"I'm assuming that you're going to need help getting into a more frightening outfit before we get there?" He asks, not moving his eyes away from my face.

"You know, I think you enjoy helping me in and out of my clothes a bit too much," I smirk at him, causing him to stand up and braced his arms on the armrests of my chair.

He leans in close, "I won't admit I don't. But the difference between me and the other guys you've had in your life is this: I know when to act on the tension, and I know when to ignore it. Now is a time for the latter." He pulls away, leaving me staring at him, stunned.

He returns to his chair.

"Why?" I ask quietly.

"Because I feel like you've known to much pain and loss in your young life. You've been used one too many times. I'm not a one-night-stand kind of guy and you need to time to move through whatever it is that's tearing you up now."

I open my mouth to shoot down his last remark but close it when I realise lying would be pointless. He was right. I wasn't ready for any form of relationship. And I barely knew this guy.

"I think," I started slowly, "that I just need a friend right now."

He nods.

Until we were about an hour outside of landing, all we did was talk, as new friends do, learning information about one another that wasn't common knowledge, or can be found online.

"I, um, need to get changed." I look anywhere but at him.

"Ok." He stands up and starts to head down the aisle but I cut him off.

"I can do my pants by myself." I try to urge a blush to not rise up onto my cheeks.

He raises an eyebrow at me, "It didn't bother you earlier."

"I can manage my tights. And besides," I refused to cringe, "I am a female." I shoot him a pointed look and watch as what I'm trying to get across to him registers with him.

"Just let me know when you need help then." He shrugs and sits back down in his chair.

"Yep." I turn away from him and head to the small plane bedroom. I pull my black jeans out of my suitcase and grab the necessary sanitary items before walking into the bathroom and set to work, getting my winter tights off and getting into my jeans. That was the hard job. After that, seeing to my bloody bodily functions was simple. Seeing as I hadn't had a shower since my period decided it wanted to show up as I got on the plane, I was essentially thanking the packing gods who had inspired me many years ago to always pack baby wipes in with my toiletries.

"Xander!" I call from the room, dumping my tights on the bed and opening my suitcase again, pulling out maroon booties, and a black flowy single. Yes, I know, it's the middle of winter. But the heater on this jet and the one in my father's house essentially meant that it was summer year round.

"Okay. Let's do this." Xander says, rubbing his hands together.

I burst out laughing. "Don't ever do that again."