The Forever of Ella and Micha

stomach muscles and smooth porcelain skin. My thoughts fill with images of running my fingers up his chest, along his stomach, savoring his soft skin.
    “Are you enjoying the view?” He cocks an eyebrow as he adjusts his shirt back over my view.
    Hiding my smile, I turn toward the window. “I guess so.”
    He sits down in the middle seat and when I look back at him, there’s a paper bag on his lap.
    I point at it. “What’s in there? Is it anything good?”
    He opens the bag and moves it toward me. Inside is a chocolate cupcake, with pink and red sprinkles. My heart instantly surges with my love for him.
    “Now, I know it’s not the same.” He removes the cupcake from the bag and balances it in the palm of my hand. “But I think it’s close.”
    Tears sting at my eyes as images of my mother flash through my mind. It was her thirty-fifth birthday and I was twelve. When I asked her what she would like for a present, she told me she wanted to bake cupcakes all day. It was a good moment in my life, although most people would probably view it as strange. But she was happy. I was happy. Micha was happy. And the happiness brought a rare serenity to our lives.
    “You remembered.” A tear escapes from my eye and rolls down my cheek.
    “Of course I remembered.” He wipes away the stray tear. “How could I not remember the day I had to make dozens and dozens of cupcakes?”
    Through my tears, I manage to smile at the memory. “I couldn’t tell her no. It was her birthday and she seemed so happy.”
    “And I was perfectly happy to do it,” he says, wiping another tear away with his finger. “Although I did end up puking my guts out because I ate too much batter.”
    “It’s a good memory of my mom.” I shut my eyes, force back the tears, and release a shaky breath. “Rare, but good.”
    When I open my eyes again, he’s watching me closely, like he’s afraid I might break. I dip my finger into the frosting and lick it off.
    He restrains a grin. “How is it?”
    I lick some frosting off my lip. “Really, really good.”
    A woman of about twenty-five or so, with curly blonde hair and sharp cheekbones, sits down in the seat next to Micha. She ogles him as she tucks her bag underneath her seat and shuts her phone off.
    I lean forward and Micha winces, startled. “You have an admirer.”
    He glances over his shoulder and when he looks back at me, his face is lit with entertainment. “Just one of my many.”
    I lick a mouthful of frosting off the top of the cupcake, laughing, and he watches me intently, dragging his lip ring between his teeth.
    “You know what I love?” he asks and I expect something dirty to come out of his mouth. “How big your eyes are.” He puts a finger to the corner of my eye, touching it delicately. “They’re beautiful.”
    The woman rolls her eyes as she buckles her seatbelt and grabs a magazine from the pocket on the back of the seat in front of her.
    “You know what I love?” I ask, and he shakes his head. “When you’re lying naked in my bed.”
    She pulls a disgusted face as she flips through the pages and Micha’s forehead furrows.
    Cupping my hand around my mouth, I put my lips near his ear. “She’s listening to our conversation and getting annoyed, so I thought I’d have fun with her.”
    An evil smile expands across his face. “You know what I love? Your naked body underneath mine, all hot and sweaty.”
    She huffs exasperatedly and turns her back toward us to face the aisle.
    Grinning, I bite into the cupcake. “That was fun.”
    “That
was
fun,” he agrees and turns off his phone.
    The plane begins to roll backward and it takes forever, but finally we’re rushing into the sky. I breathe in and out, tapping my fingers on my legs, not really sure why I’m all wound up, other than it seems like I’m putting a lot of trust in the pilot.
    Micha’s fingers wrap around my wrist and he kisses my racing pulse. “Relax, everything’s fine.”
    I snuggle up to him and rest my head on his shoulder. He brings out his iPod and puts one earbud in his ear. Sweeping my hair to the side, he puts the other one in mine.
    He scrolls through the playlists and seconds later “Chalk Line” by Strike Anywhere flips on, the acoustic version, so it’s softer. Leaning into me, he sings along with the lyrics and the sound of his angelic voice lulls me to sleep.

Chapter 12
Micha
    After the plane lands and we check into the absurdly fancy hotel my father booked, we decide