Pleasurable Expectations

t h i r t y

"Are you sure you have everything?" Jeremiah called from the front door of my apartment.

I lugged my carry-on behind me as I shouted back, "Yeah!" I took a moment to get my things acquainted in my arms as I continued, "I pack the day of to make sure I don't forget anything."

Jeremiah crossed his arms over his chest and said, "That's the worst system ever." He grabbed a few items from the clutter spilling out of my arms as he added, "What if you do forget something? You don't have time to check."

I moved through the now open front door, Jeremiah's arm holding it ajar for me. "But I won't forget something," I stated matter-of-factly. "That's the whole point of the system."

His gaze followed me as I walked past him through the doorway to his car waiting on the curb. I heard the door shut and the jingling of keys as they turned in the lock.

"How many flights have you missed, Ki?" I heard him call after me.

"None," I responded. The trunk of the car popped open, and I placed my carry-on inside. "Besides, the jet couldn't go anywhere without its key passenger." I ran a hand down the braid resting over my shoulder, it following the length down to my hip.

"Mm," Jeremiah hummed. "That explains everything."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" I asked with slight offense in my tone. I quirked an eyebrow at him as I got in the car and settled in my seat.

"Baby, you know there are some things that don't apply to you because of how you were raised," he began to explain as the car roared to a start.

I raised a hand to stop Jeremiah before he could continue. "I get it," I admitted with a sigh. "I had the luxury of taking my sweet time when traveling."

If there's one thing being with Jeremiah has taught me, it's that I can be a little oblivious to how things work in the world. He is always the first to remind me when my privileged experiences are trampling over how things really are. They're my "silver spoon moments," as he likes to call them.

"Exactly," Jeremiah confirmed with the nod of his head. "Private jets wait for up to what, two hours after the scheduled flight time? That's a lot of extra time."

I rolled my eyes as I reiterated, "I get it!" A moment passed before my eyes narrowed and I turned to look at him. "How do you know about private jet protocol?"

Jeremiah snorted. "Private jet protocol?"

"Answer the question, Jere," I pressed.

His eyes flicked over to me before they settled back on the road ahead, so quick I would've missed it if I weren't paying attention. A few more beats of silence passed as my suspicious gaze stayed fixed on him. I watched as his hand pulled from the wheel and dragged from his eyebrow to his cheek.

"Baby, King and I have been friends for years," he began. Then, as we rolled to stop behind a line of cars at a stop sign, he fully looked over at me and offered an easygoing smile. "If his locs aren't looking just right, he can't leave the house," he finished with a chuckle.

I looked over him one last time, my lips pursed as I took in this information. From the combined opinions of Jeremiah and Sienna, that seems in character for King. I could absolutely imagine him being as late as he needed to be for a flight if he wasn't on point.

"Yeah, that makes sense." I dropped my doubtful gaze and relaxed back into my seat, my hand finding Jeremiah's over the center console. "Si is always telling me how dramatic he is."

The rest of the ride to the airport passed with conversation passing breezily. It's just that sometimes, Jeremiah seems to know a little too much about things that are outside of his tax bracket, owns too many things outside of it.