I’ve never been fond of flying. Something about being crammed into a confined space along with two hundred impatient people, all in a hurry to reach their destination, seems unnatural. Add to that the cardboard food that’s barely edible, coffee that tastes like water, and worst of all, the restroom that makes you feel extremely claustrophobic.

I avoid flying anywhere, unless of course it’s for leisure. Like Hawaii last year. Leisure and pleasure all rolled into one. A boys’ trip that turned into a weeklong fuck-fest with a newly divorced woman, seeking revenge on her ex-husband by spending his money.

Life was so sweet back then.

It’s a five-hour flight to Los Angeles. And five hours of flying economy next to a girl who bursts into tears every time she flips the page of her book. Cute girl, maybe early twenties, with a short brown bob tied back and reading glasses that make her look nerdy yet sexy at the same time. She’s curled up, legs beneath her chin, resting against the window. The way she sits, along with the way she bites her nails nervously, warns me that Miss Goody-Two-Shoes should best be left alone.

But I am bored. Not in the mood to watch the crappy TV shows or unpopular movies they show on the plane.

Without trying to draw attention, I watch the way her lips tremble and her eyes glass over with every flick of a page. My stare immediately wanders to the title of the book—Moving on After a Broken Heart.

Too. Fucking. Easy.

Then my mind halts, remembering the promise I had made when I left home.

I promise not to prey on vulnerable women.

I promise to keep my dick in my pants.

And not engage in sexual activity that may be construed as any form of revenge.

I made this pact—or so-called promise—to better myself, because I had fucked up everything and lost my best friends.

Life hasn’t been the same since that night with Rose. Benny knew straight away that I had fucked her, running towards me at the bar, his fist connecting with my jaw in a matter of seconds. I wanted so desperately to punch the fucker back, but I knew all too well that it was my fault. I messed with the wrong girl, the girl that my best friend was in love with.

How the fuck was I supposed to know that? Only after it unraveled did it all make sense. How he had been distant from me and Tom, constantly making up excuses as to why he couldn’t hang out with us. I just didn’t understand why he went to those lengths to hide his relationship from us. Had he been honest from the start, then maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t have happened.

But deep down inside I knew how much shit we both would have given him had he told us he was in love. We don’t do love. Not us boys. In college we made a pact: Play hard, fuck hard. All around us friends were dropping like flies, marrying their high school sweethearts and having babies. We were the last three standing, and having the time of our lives. Backpacking through Europe and Asia after college, frequenting Cancun any weekend we had free. Next year, we were supposed to do Australia.

But now, neither one of them would talk to me.

Benny told me that night that he no longer considered me a brother, storming out of the bar without Rose by his side. He ignored my calls, and even Tom was quick to take his side. No matter what I tried, or the copious amounts of apologies I would offer, neither one of them wanted anything to do with me. They had blocked me on all social media, and even convinced the basketball team we played on during the weekends to drop me.

The unintentional drama that followed only made the whole situation worse.

Amongst our circle of friends and the community, news had spread like wildfire. Much like the game telephone, by the time it reached my mom, I had apparently fucked Benny’s girlfriend, knocked her up, and was threatening to leave town if she didn’t get rid of it.

I had a lot to answer for. We’ve always had a close relationship, me being her only child and with no dad around. So I was quick to tell her my side of the story. Nothing worse than your mom getting all up in your business.

I love my mom, and me sitting on this plane was for her.

I hated the fact that I had let her down. She treated Benny and Tom like sons, despite their inappropriate sexual references. She knew how tight of a bond we had and was quick to point out how easily I allowed my dick to act before my brain.

At a loss for how to fix my mistake, she suggested I move to California to stay with my cousin. I argued for days about why it wasn’t a good idea. Charlotte—or Charlie, as I called her—lived with her husband Lex and their three daughters. Kids frightened me, especially the ones that could talk. They were unpredictable and whiney at the best of times. And on top of that, the constant crying and need for attention.

Sharing a house with them was the last thing I wanted to do.

I had a great apartment and a steady job in the city. Leaving all that tore me up. So many great memories, and Mom lived not too far away. Who would take care of her if I left? Not that I did much, but if anyone decided to mess with her, I’d be armed with a fucking gun ready for a blowout in less than five minutes.

But as usual, Mom convinced me that she’d be fine and that a change of scenery would be good for me. Twenty-eight is plenty young enough to start a new life. She had already planned it all out with Charlie. Apparently they had a huge house that had a guest bedroom larger than my apartment. Lex was able to get me a job, similar to the one I had. It all seemed too easy.

With one last attempt, I reached out to Benny and Tom with no luck. I decided then it was time to move on. Maybe our friendship was not meant to last. And so, this one-way ticket is supposed to be a fresh start. A way of reinventing myself in a place filled with superficial wannabe actors and actresses.

Hollywood.

I close my eyes with my headphones on, trying to drown out the aircraft noise. Not long after, there is a gentle tap on my shoulder.

“Sir, would you like a drink?”

I open my eyes to be met by a sexy red-haired stewardess, waiting to serve me with a flirtatious smile. Fuck, those lips. Red lipstick . . . my weakness.

I’m not thirsty, but decide that I need to leave a good impression on her, and order a scotch. I’ve never fucked a stewardess. God, it would be so damn hot if she left that uniform on while I fucked her from behind.

She pours the scotch into the glass, trying to disguise her smile. I know she’s feeling it. Through her white blouse, her nipples are practically teasing me. Noticing my tray table isn’t down, she leans forward, her tits so close to my face, and opens the table, accidentally brushing my cock in the process.

Well hot damn.

“Here you go, sir.”

“Thank you, Ivana,” I say, eyeing her nametag.

Only lingering for a moment, she turns her body in the opposite direction, purposely bending over to serve the gentleman across the aisle from me. Fuck, what I would give to stick my fingers in her sweet pussy right now. I bet it’s tight too. Barely touched from all the travelling she does.

Control yourself. Miss Goody-Two-Shoes next to you would have a heart attack if she knew what your dirty mind wanted to do to Ivana right now. What was that about controlling my dick? Who fucking cared anymore. New place, new set of women.

Perfect.

The remainder of the flight is uneventful, and Ivana, much to my disappointment, hasn’t come back for round two. With only an hour left until we descend, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes decides to strike up a conversation. Another reason I despise flying—small talk with random strangers beside you.

“Sorry about the blubbering mess,” she apologizes while placing the book in the pocket behind the seat in front of her.

“Must be a good book,” I respond politely, not interested in making conversation.

“Good as in eye-opening. I feel much better now. I’m Amber, by the way.”

I smile back. “Noah.”

“Noah,” she repeats. “Cute. Are you from LA?”

Cute? This isn’t going anywhere. Time to terminate the conversation. I wasn’t moving to LA to meet friends. Especially ones that thought my name was ‘cute.’

“No, just moving here for a few months.”

“I live not far from Santa Monica Beach with my two roomies,” Amber informs me. “LA is a nice change if you’re from the East.”

“I like warmer.”

“I miss the cold winters. When I stayed in Jersey with my girlfriend . . . I mean, my ex . . .” And there it was, the reason why she’s been a trainwreck this entire flight. I just never took her for a lesbian. It’s kinda hot. Damn, she eats pussy. We have something in common.

“I loved being inside and watching the snowfall. Helps if you’ve got hot chocolate and are having wild sex in front of a fireplace,” she reminisces.

The scotch swirling around in my mouth almost splatters onto the chair in front of me. She said what?

“Uh, yeah.” I laugh nervously, unsure of where to go from here. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a wild-sex-in-front-of-a-fireplace type of girl.”

“Well then, Noah, it’s amazing how looks can be deceiving.”

Her eyes dart back and forth, scanning the passengers around us. With most people asleep, she slides a little closer to me and rests her hand on my thigh, inching it closer until it’s sitting on my cock. Stroking it softly above the material of my pants, I allow her to continue until she suggests that we should take this out back.

“Back where?” I ask, wondering what she has in mind.

I turn my head, noticing the back of the plane isn’t full. I enjoy fucking in public, but this . . . this seems risky. Don’t be a pussy, Noah. You’ve jerked off watching several pornos with girls getting off on airplanes.

I unclick my seatbelt and stand up, walking towards the back where the larger restroom is located, assuming that this is where Amber wants to fuck. Ivana is standing against the wall, eyeing me as I walk down.

Oh shit.

With Amber following close by, Ivana tilts her head and watches her walk behind me.

“Well, this is a nice reunion.” Ivana grins, eyeing us both from head to toe.

“Just using the restroom.” I smile back.

“Let me open the door for the both of you. If you need any assistance, please, don’t be scared to ask.” Ivana bites the corner of her lip, gazing at me with her sultry eyes.

“We could use some help,” Amber whispers, latching onto Ivana’s arm.

Ivana pulls a piece of paper from her pocket, taping it onto the restroom. The words Out of Order, printed and stuck on the door.

“Ladies,” I murmur, running my hand along Ivana’s collarbone. “We need to get creative with this space.”

Ivana places her juicy red lips on mine, rolling her tongue around while moaning in my mouth. I can feel a hand stroking my cock. I don’t know who it belongs to, nor do I care. Ivana continues to kiss me with deep penetrating moans, almost biting my lip in the process. I pull away and see why.

Amber has shifted Ivana’s dress up, past the top of her garters. She pushes Ivana’s black lacey panties aside, exposing her beautifully shaved pussy. Fuck. I watch in awe, waiting for her to slide her tongue against her clit. I’ve been with two women before, but never in a restroom of a plane. This, here, is fucking heaven.

“If my ex could see me in here with the both of you, she would die,” Amber moans loudly.

Without any further delay, she shoves her head between Ivana’s legs as Ivana curses at her, begging her to suck her pussy and stick her fingers deep inside. I’m at a slight loss for what to do, caught up in the excitement of it all. But time is of the essence; this plane wasn’t going to stay in the air forever.

My cock is throbbing, the blood pumping hard as I restrain myself from blowing too quickly. Knowing that I don’t have a rubber on me, I settle for a blowjob while Amber finishes Ivana off. It doesn’t take me long; two women staring up at me with wild eyes, fighting to suck me off the hardest.

Fucking.Suck.Harder.

“Sir.” A voice calls to me. “Sir, please fasten your seatbelt. We are descending into LAX.”

Startled and confused by my surroundings, it takes me a moment to realize it was just a dream. And Ivana, ironically, is the one who bursts my pornographic bubble. Still standing over me, she notices the hard-on and walks away with a satisfied smile.

Cock tease.

The girl beside me begins a conversation, introducing herself as Erika. Funny, I didn’t peg her for an Erika. Much like my warped dream, she asks the same questions, buying time with mundane topics. When the wheels of the plane begin to drop, loudly echoing through the cabin, Erika drops the bombshell.

“I broke up with my boyfriend because he cheated on me with one of my friends. And you know what makes it worse? They’re still together!” she cries loudly.

I want out of this plane. Out of this conversation. So being the dick I am, I don’t say anything else and pretend to be enjoying the view through her window as the plane hits the ground and screeches to a halt.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Los Angeles,” the pilot announces.

I give myself a moment to take it all in. The fact that I’m here, beginning something new. Embarking on a new adventure. It would have been nice just to have a moment of serenity as we taxied into the terminal, but Miss Chatty next to me takes the opportunity to go on about her ex-boyfriend.

She turns to face me, staring me down behind her glasses. “Give me your honest opinion, you’re a guy, I need a guy’s perspective. If I hooked up with someone else, say, like a rebound, would that make him angry, you think?”

Oh sweetheart. You’re asking the wrong guy. It’s like dangling a bottle of vodka at an AA meeting. Here she is, dangling her frigid little pussy in front of me. Clenching my fist, I try my hardest to answer her question without insinuating we should meet up so I can show her that a real man shouldn’t be cheating on her sweet pretty ass.

“Erika,” I say, standing up to open the overhead locker and remove my bag, “do whatever it is you need to do to move on. Don’t waste your time worrying about someone that doesn’t feel the same.”

Pat on the back for that mature response. The chaos begins, passengers scrambling to grab their belongings to exit the plane. Erika thanks me for the advice and I say goodbye, following the line that begins to move towards the exit.

Along with everyone else, I walk through the corridor, then turn the corner and see the crowds of people waiting at the gate.

Charlie is standing at the front with one of her daughters. I immediately recognize her even though I hadn’t seen her in years. Her normally brown hair is slightly darker, chopped into a shorter style that reaches her shoulders. Back when we were younger, she was a lot paler, but I’m assuming that living in California is why her skin is so olive. She was always a beautiful girl, a reason why every boy in town wanted to date her when we were young.

I wave hello, distracted by a tap on my shoulder. I turn around as Erika hands me a piece of paper. “My number. I’m taking your advice. Make sure you call me, okay?”

Wow, so even when I’m trying not to be sexy, I must come across that way. Talk about an ego boost. I wink back at Erika, following with a smile, shoving her number into the pocket of my pants.

“Uncle Noah!” The little girl runs towards me, wrapping her tiny arms around my leg. What the hell was I supposed to do? I don’t even remember her name. She looks exactly like her dad—mousy brown hair with bright green eyes. I would expect that a little girl would be dressed in some frilly dress, but not her. She’s wearing a white t-shirt with #Superhero on it in bright green, along with a cape. Okay, seriously, the kid already rocks.

“Well, well, well. Look who finally made it to LA.” Charlie grins.

“Hello, cuz.” I smile back, placing my bag down as I lean in to hug her.

I may have left my mom behind, but Charlie is family. A sister-like figure that I had grown up with until my mom and I moved when I was fourteen. Something about her made me feel at home. Perhaps it was the years of torture she inflicted on me when we were growing up. Tea parties, wedgies . . . you name it, she made me do it.

Pulling away, she holds onto my arms to look at me. Her eyes glass over, on the verge of crying.

“You’re a man now.” She smiles proudly. “And I see you made a friend on the plane already.” Raising her brow, she waits for me to respond.

“Californians are very welcoming.”

The timing is impeccable. Ivana, the stewardess from the flight, walks past and stops just shy of where Charlie stands.

“I’m staying at this hotel, call me.” She slides the paper into the breast pocket of my shirt. Charlie frowns, shaking her head back and forth.

“Let’s go, Noah. We have some rules we need to set in place if you’re staying with us.”

I let out a groan, a gesture that Charlie’s daughter notices.

“Uncle Noah, you won’t get bored at my house. We have a ton of things to do! Maybe your girlfriends can come visit too?”

Leaning over to Charlie, I whisper, “What’s the name of this daughter?”

“Amelia.” She reprimands with an annoyed look. “She’s the oldest.”

“Right,” I respond, smiling back at Amelia. “Uncle Noah is not used to being around kids so you have to be patient. Do you know what that means?”

“Well, duh,” she responds with a bored look on her face. “I am in kindergarten. Daddy says that men like you only have women friends, not boyfriends. Unless of course you’re like my Uncle Eric. He has boyfriends, he is gay.”

I stop mid-step. “Uh kid, should you be knowing that at five?”

“Daddy also says that for a five-year-old I’m super smart and one day I’ll run his company. He also says that if I’m the boss, I can make everyone wear capes to work.”

“That’s a pretty awesome idea,” I tell her. “How about if you become the boss, I’ll come work for you. I’d like to wear a cape to work every day too.”

“Deal.” She smiles, happily skipping beside me.

Charlie directs us to the baggage claim area. Along with the hoard of people, I wait until my suitcases move towards us. The rest of my stuff is on a truck headed here. I didn’t know what I would need to survive living with Charlie and her family. A move in my life that I had never expected to make.

On the car ride to Charlie’s house, Amelia falls asleep, giving us time to chat.

“Your mom told me about what happened back home.”

“My mom has a big mouth,” I tell her, staring out the window.

“Are you okay? It can’t be easy to just lose your friends like that. Especially the ones that were like brothers to you.”

Putting on a brave face, I follow with a smile, “I’m fine. I’m ready for new things anyway.”

“Good.” She hesitates, turning her blinker on and driving up the ramp to another freeway. “You have Lex. He’s going to enjoy having you around. Being in a house with all girls and working himself crazy, he doesn’t get much chance to bond with other guys.”

“Is he into sports, specifically basketball?”

“Uh yes.” She laughs. “He has courtside seats to all the Lakers games.”

“Sweet. Maybe living out here ain’t gonna be so bad,” I mumble to myself.

And just for a moment, when things had looked bleak, the promise of courtside tickets perks me right up. And then, I remember my golden tickets.

The one sitting in the pocket of my pants, and the one sitting in the pocket of my shirt.

To fresh starts, a new career, and Californian babes.

Life is starting to look sweet—again.