There are some titles you earn that nobody can ever take away: Mother. Veteran. Ph.D. And, of course, there is the ever-coveted card-carrying member of the Mile High Club.

Yes, once you’ve done it high in the sky, you’re pretty much set for life when it comes to always winning the never have I ever game.

But, make no mistake about it—joining the Mile High Club isn’t as simple as you may think.

Or maybe it was just me who thought that.

In my defense, Maggie made it out to be so incredibly easy.

Maybe for her it was.

For me—not so much.

In fact, the attempt was downright humiliating.

Then again, I should have known better. Maggie always makes everything seem easier than it is.

Across the aisle, light and shadow paint him.

I haven’t slept, but I have pretended to do so. Still, whenever I move or shift a little, he catches my quick glance his way, and this time is no different.

“I’m really sorry,” he whispers for the hundredth time.

I can’t even look him in the eyes.

In his defense, he doesn’t understand why. He doesn’t know I saw him getting head last night and then treat Megan with a B like she was dirt. Sure, I felt there was a reason, but after today, I wonder if that is just his way with all women.

Still incredibly embarrassed about everything, I look away without saying a word. Awkward situation equals bitchy woman. It’s how I’ve always been. I can’t help it.

At last giving up, he stretches those long legs, and from the corner of my eye I can see him rest his head against the window.

When I can’t take it anymore, I dare to sneak a quick peek his way.

I know I shouldn’t.

In that one instant it takes for me to focus on him, my heart starts to beat out of my chest.

Tall, dark, and handsome—the three perfect words to describe him.

As if uncontrollable, my breathing also picks up.

And then I stupidly start to think maybe we could try that again. This time with a lower volume, a little more discretion, and a whole lot more coordination.

No, I silently tell myself.

At least this time I listen.

One embarrassing moment on this flight is enough—for a lifetime.

With his eyes closed, I can almost pretend we never met and that what just happened never took place.

Almost.

Except the feel of his lips on my neck still lingers, and the touch of his fingers against my skin continues to burn, and then there’s my lady parts, which are still tingling wildly to the point of maddening irritation.

Chastising myself for even listening to Maggie, and forever considering joining the Mile High Club, I feel like I want to cry, which is stupid.

I.

Will.

Never.

See.

Him.

Again.

The speaker crackles and the pilot’s voice booms through the open space. “Cabin crew, prepare for landing.”

Sighing, I avert my gaze and then ever so quietly buckle my seat belt and pray that the sound doesn’t disturb him. I can’t take another “I’m sorry” or “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Soon enough, the plane starts to descend and my stomach drops. I find myself digging my nails into the armrest so tightly that my knuckles are turning white.

He was right.

And right now I have this odd feeling. I wish I were sitting next to him, listening to the sound of his caramel-like voice as he reads to me.

No. No. No, I tell myself, and I know I’m right. I don’t need a man in my life, and definitely not a stranger who fucks for a hobby.

At 37,000 feet in the air, everything still feels like a haze of white fluffiness, but then the lights from the landscape below start to become clearer and so does my mind.

I’m about to start something new.

And it’s exciting.

Looking out the window in anticipation, I know there are adventures waiting for me here. I’ve visited Laguna Beach many times with Maggie through the years, but this is different. This will be me, making a new life, in a new city.

I’m so ready.

As soon as the plane lands, the pilot’s voice comes over the speakers again. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to John Wayne Airport. The temperature is sixty-four degrees…” He continues giving us information, but I tune it out. I just want to get off this plane.

Atypical of my normal airplane behavior, I stand up immediately after the plane stops, open the bin over him, over Cam, without glancing down, and as soon as the door opens, I bolt out of it.

“Hey, wait.” Cam is calling after me.

He doesn’t even know my name, or that I know his, and I have to be okay with that.

He’s a stranger.

A random almost screw.

And I will never see him again.

I have to be okay with that.

I say it to myself one more time so that maybe I’ll believe it.

After all, that’s the way it is.