Big Roomie
Penny Wylder
Contents
More Must Reads by Penny Wylder
1. Channa
2. Kain
3. Channa
4. Kain
5. Channa
6. Channa
7. Channa
8. Kain
9. Kain
10. Channa
11. Channa
Copyright © 2021 Penny Wylder
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.
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1
Channa
I can’t tell anymore if my churning stomach is due to the excitement of flying to London or the fear of falling from the sky. It’s my first time ever on an airplane, and as I look over to the window, I shake my head, clearing it from thoughts of aerodynamics and catastrophic engine failure. Deep breath, Channa. Deep breath. If it weren’t for the comfort of my best friends, I would have chickened out the moment I got to the airport.
I sit in the middle seat. Lillian is on my right. She’s zoned out, staring at her iPad with her headphones on. She’s wearing a sweatshirt and pajama bottoms, her long blond hair pulled up into a messy bun, looking more comfortable than I’ve ever seen her. If only I felt as comfortable.
Deb is to the left of me, staring out the window, her grinning face framed by her curly ginger locks. I can tell by the look on her face she’s deep into a daydream. She always gets that distant look of contentment when she’s imagining her upcoming wedding with her long-time boyfriend. This is the first time she’s been away from him in a year, so I know it will be hard for her. Of all of my friends, she’s the one I envy the most. She’s so in love and happy, and I’ve always wanted that for myself.
Lillian and Deb wanted me to take the window seat so I could experience the flight in all its glory, but I don’t want any part of that. I’d rather keep my nose glued to my book, lost in a great romance story until we land. Reading is the only way to keep my mind off all the things that can possibly go wrong in a giant piece of metal rocketing through the air. And it works, for the most part.
This book is about a woman who goes off on an adventure and meets a mysterious man and she falls madly in love with him. I’m obsessed with romance stories. Probably because I have so little experience in romance. Afterall, I’m still a virgin. I’ve never met a guy who’s come close to sweeping me off my feet. Rather than feeling butterflies flitting around my tummy on dates, I usually feel spiders crawling over my skin. The men I’ve met have typically been creeps. Lillian thinks it’s crazy that I’m twenty-five and still a virgin. She blames it on the books I read, saying romance novels aren’t real, and I’m just setting myself up for disappointment because real life could never compare to the bodice rippers I devour, often three or four a week. But I don’t care if I’m fifty-five and still haven’t been with anyone. I’m waiting for it to feel right. It’s not like I’m waiting until marriage or anything. I’ve just set a high bar, and until I meet someone worth my time, then I’m not interested. I’d rather be alone. I’ve lived without sex this long, so I know it won’t kill me to wait longer.
I know Deb understands me. She’s told me privately that she wishes she had waited so James, her fiancé, would have been her first. James didn’t mind or anything, but it still bothered Deb, and she longed for the romance of losing her virginity to her true love. I don’t need to lose my virginity to my soul mate, I just want my first time to be with someone who isn’t trying to lie, cheat, or manipulate their way into my pants. I’m starting to believe maybe there isn’t such a thing. Sometimes I think Lillian isn’t so cynical and that she’s onto something. But then I see people like Deb and her fiancé, and I believe in true love again. It’s all so confusing. Perhaps I should just stick to reading about romance rather than fumble through my own.
I don’t want to stop reading, but the words are starting to blur and my eyes are getting heavy. We’ve been in the air for hours and I haven’t put down my book once. I’ve barely even blinked out of fear that my mind would start thinking about aerodynamics and fluke engine failures and bird strikes. We’ll be landing soon. I know I better pee before this plane starts to descend, because who knows how terrifying that whole landing ordeal will be. If it’s anything like taking off, I’ll probably need another Xanax.
“Scooch,” I tell Lillian as I stand. The seats are so close together I’m practically sitting in her lap. They barely recline, so we’ve been upright for hours, our knees practically crushed into the seats in front of us. We would have spent extra to fly first class but that would mean less shopping once we got to London so … no. Discomfort it is.
Without looking at me or even looking away from her iPad, Lillian moves her knees to let me into the center aisle. I notice that most people are asleep as I head toward the bathrooms, their headphones on, travel pillows around their neck, eye masks blocking out the light. It’s been a horrendously long flight. For the most part, it’s been
