How to Honeymoon Alone

by Olivia Hayle

As a teenager, I’d kept a vision board over my desk. It had changed a lot over the years, but a few images had remained—steadfast pillars among an ever-changing sea of dreams.

But it takes one to know one.

You're a cowboy like me.

Those who fail to plan—” “Plan to fail,”

Mastermind coded.

A hand curves lightly around my waist, and then his voice is by my ear. His breath tickles my skin. “Sit back properly, Eden,” he says. “It’s safer.”

The way I'm awkwardly smiling on a plane while reading this

“You’ve been looking for me?” he asks and sounds inordinately pleased by that fact.

“Keeping secrets, Meyer? From your new wife?” He chuckles. “Only ones she’s not ready to hear, yeah.”

“Excellent?” he asks. “Mh-hmm. No complaints.” “Right. Well, I enjoyed kissing you.”

“You liked kissing me, you said.” “I did say that,” I whisper. “Wouldn’t mind doing it again in service of a cause.” A quick smile flashes across his lips, there and gone. “Such pillow talk.”

“Do you want to get murdered and give me a story?” His eyes widen, and then he smiles. It lights up his tanned face. “By you? Any day.”

“Good thing you’re a self-controlled lawyer with the discipline of steel.” He glances down at my legs. “I used to be,” he mutters. “Now, I’m someone who competes in sack racing.”

After each weekend, I long even more for the next one. For him.