First class—you chose an upgrade in exchange for a later flight. Double lucky—when you board, your seatmate is an attractive man close to your age. You mourn that you're too tired to talk and doze off as the flight attendant goes through the safety presentation.

When you wake up, the chair is harder than it should be—not uncomfortable, but more similar to an office chair than a first-class lounge. You slowly stretch before seeing you're in your seat partner's lap. You scramble to get off, but he grabs your hips gently. "Where do you think you're going?"

You're confused more than anything, asking why you're in his lap. He has the audacity to shrug. "You kept leaning towards me, trying to nuzzle into my neck, making noises. Once the seatbelt sign was off, I moved you to where you wanted to be."