Free A Collateral Attraction by Liz Madrid

plane, I see Heath lying on a reclined seat, asleep.
    When he stirs, I turn away from the middle cabin and stare at the ceiling for a few minutes, collecting my thoughts. I try to remember as much as I can about what happened the moment I walked into the plane but come up with only hazy visions, one of them asking someone to undo the snaps of my bra because I couldn’t quite get to them myself — at least sober. At that thought, I lift the covers to see what I’m wearing and realize that the only thing I have on are my lace panties and nothing more. Even the bra and the teddy are gone and as I look around me, I see them at the foot of the bed, thankfully within easy reach. So is my dress.
    I struggle to remember who I’d asked to undo the snaps of my lingerie but come up empty. Oh, please don’t let it be Heath , I groan as I sit up and move as quietly as I can, reaching for the bra first, then the white V-neck dress with its thigh-high slit.  I have no need for the teddy.
    Hastily I dress, and barefoot, I tiptoe towards the far end of the rear cabin, grateful to find the lavatory on my first try. It’s three times bigger than the usual airplane bathroom, with portholes with view of the clouds against a moonlit sky. It’s so beautiful all I do is stare for a few minutes till I remember why I need to go to the bathroom in the first place. After finishing my toilette, I go through the drawers and find a brand new toothbrush still in its plastic bag, a tube of toothpaste and floss. Perfect.
    My make-up, however, is a mess, but at least even as I awoke with my face smushed against my pillow, I don’t think I’ve lost any more lash extensions. I do what I can fix my make-up, wiping the smudged eye liner from my skin before fixing my hair. I wish I hadn’t taken the Xanax but it’s done. Whatever it is I’ve done or said in addition to whatever little I remember, I have to take responsibility for my actions. Besides, I have to have an honest talk with Heath and if I don’t step out of the bathroom right now, I’m afraid one of the flight attendants might suspect I fell in.
    I could have remained in the rear cabin and choose from over fifty movies stored in the inflight library to entertain myself, but I’m too nervous. As the flight attendants efficiently convert the bed back into a divan and put away the down comforters and pillows, I make my way to the middle cabin and sit across from Heath as he sleeps, rehearsing what I need to say to him.
    But it’s difficult to rehearse lines when an angel sleeps across from me. Hard to believe it’s the same man, but it is, and I lean back against my seat to watch him before he wakes up. Asleep, the muscles on his face are relaxed, and a face that always seemed hard and cold when glaring at me seems completely angelic now. Even his mouth, slightly open as he breathes softly, are kind. There’s a lock of hair that lies across his forehead, and I almost walk over to his seat and brush it away from his face. He seems so vulnerable.
    Until he wakes up, and the scowl returns for he’s caught me watching him.
    He yawns, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as his other hand presses a button and the seat back moves upright.
    “How long have you been awake?” Heath asks as one of the flight attendants inquires if we need anything.
    “Coffee,” he says, turning to me. “Would you like one?”
    I nod. “Coffee sounds great.”
    “I hope you slept well.”
    “You should have taken the bed,” I say. “These seats aren’t as comfortable as the bed back there.”
    “Actually they are,” he says, smiling faintly. “Besides, you claimed the bed first.”
    I groan. “I was drunk and I’m so sorry if I did anything stupid.”
    “No, you didn’t do anything too stupid, or at least not so stupid that the pilot would have requested you off my plane,” he says, pulling aside the blanket and I see that he’s wearing a dark shirt over a pair of sweatpants. It makes him