Ten
February 2nd 2004
“We seem to have all of our most romantic moments at airports.” Hanna buried her face in Richard’s shirt, her wet eyes mixing with her mascara until there was an inky stain on the white cotton.
“Not quite all,” he drawled, bringing his lips to hers. He brushed them softly, as he wiped away the moistness around her eyes. “I seem to remember that last night was pretty romantic.”
Hanna laughed. “You seem to be getting mixed up between romance and sex. The two aren’t mutually inclusive.”
“For us, they are.”
He kissed her again, this time without restraint, and her knees started to shake at the onslaught. The fact they were making a scene in the middle of Heathrow Airport didn’t matter. Every few weeks they had to go through this parting, and it hadn’t become any easier. As time passed, she was finding it hard to remember exactly why she was so opposed to moving to New York.
Then something would happen to bring her back to reality. Like the time he formally introduced her to his mother, and she received a very pointed cold shoulder. At those moments, she realized she really wasn’t cut out for life in Manhattan. The only part of New York she wanted to have anywhere near her was Richard.
His kisses were getting more demanding, and she felt him drop his bag and move his hands to her waist. His fingers dug in to her soft skin as he squeezed her through her black t-shirt, trailing his lips from her mouth to her neck. Her head dropped back, allowing him access to the sensitive flesh of her throat.
“If we’re not careful I’m going to end up doing a Justin on you,” he murmured. The previous night they had watched the Super Bowl and had both been in fits of giggles when Justin Timberlake had pulled Janet Jackson’s top down to reveal her nipple.
“If you don’t stop kissing me there, I’m going to let you.”
“You know, I’ve never watched football in the middle of the night before, but it had its advantages.” The sensation of his smile against her flesh told her he was remembering the way they made their own half time entertainment. And it didn’t involve nipple piercings.
“You’re going to be late,” her voice was still breathy.
“I know.” His hands were moving down her hips, back to cup her behind as she felt him responding to their embrace. It took every ounce of willpower she had to put her hands up and push him away.
“It’s going to take you forever to get through security.” She gestured over at the long queue of travellers, snaking around the airport. “Even American Airlines won’t wait for you if you’re late.”
Richard smirked and she narrowed her eyes at him, moving her hands in a shooing motion.
“I’ll call you from the lounge, okay?” He placed a kiss on her nose.
“And from the runway, then from JFK, your car, and your apartment…” she teased.
He leaned down and kissed her one last time. “I’ll see you in a month, okay?”
“I’m counting the hours.”
“You don’t have to count anything. Come with me now.” He said it every single time.
“I can’t.”
“There’s no such thing as can’t, baby. Just won’t.”
“Then move to London.” She was smiling through the tears, the familiarity of their interchange somehow grounding her.
“I want to—”
“But you can’t.” She finished his sentence for him and kissed his cheek one last time. “We’ll w
ork it out somehow.”
“We’ll have to because this is killing me.” He bent down to pick up his bag, noticing the black mascara stain on his shirt for the first time. His eyebrows rose as he looked at her pointedly.
“What?” She tried to look innocent, but the smile couldn’t help bursting through. “I was sad, so sue me.”
“Remind me to buy you some tissues next time.” His expression was soft as he looked at her.