“This isn’t a fight, and there is no debate. I pumped my legs as fast as I could to keep up, and I was already out of breath. We started to run down the long airport corridor. It was his fault that we were in this situation, that I wouldn’t be able to sign him, and that we would most likely miss our flight. The tile floor felt cool and hard on my bare feet. He steadied me by putting a large hand on the center of my upper back, and through the thin fabric of my dress, his hand felt warm. Uncaring that I was touching him, I grabbed a handful of his big warm bicep and used it to balance while I took off my heels. “We’ll make it,” he told me, “but we’re going to have to run.” When we turned onto the next corridor, I realized with dismay that we were only at gate four. I concentrated on navigating those stairs in my heels without breaking my neck. “Let’s go.” He moved down the stairs at an alarming speed. “They just called last boarding for our flight. On the other side of security, I found him waiting for me. He had no idea how hard I was working not to freak out at him. My gaze burned into the center of his back. The lineups in security were long and slow-moving, and as they repeatedly called our boarding gate, I came to the conclusion that we would miss our flight. “If we miss this flight, I’m blaming you.” I snatched the contracts out of his hand and started walking towards security. Everyone agreed they never want to talk about last night again.”
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