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I turn on my car and dial Kipp. The call connects via my vehicle’s Bluetooth, and Kipp’s happy voice surrounds me.
“Hey, Teddy. I’m glad you called.”
“Yeah?” I ask, pulse kicking up again for an entirely different reason.
“Yeah. You go first. What’s up?”
My mood plummets. “I need to take a short trip to Canada. I’ll be gone for a few days, a week tops.”
“Oh,” he says. “Are your grandparents okay?”
“Debatable?” I say, pulling out into traffic. “My grandpa hurt his hip. I just… I really need to be there.”
“I understand,” Kipp says softly, and my chest squeezes tight. It’s such simple support, but it means the world. “When are you leaving?”
“As soon as I can book a flight. Will you be all right?”
He snorts a laugh. “Teddy. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I am an adult, you know.”
“I know. But I’m still allowed to worry.”
He makes a soft sound. “Hopefully, I can catch you before you leave. But if I don’t, just… Have a safe trip. And say hello to your grandparents for me.”
“I will,” I answer. So many other words sit at the tip of my tongue. I’ll miss you. I fucking love you. Keep the bed warm for me. But I don’t say any of them. “Um… Did you have something you wanted to say when I called? You said ‘you go first.’”
“Oh,” he says. “Nah. It can wait.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.”
“Okay,” I say.
“’Kay.”
We both chuckle.
“See you when I see you,” Kipp says.
“Yeah. Bye, sweetheart.”
There’s that soft sound again. “Bye, Teddy.”
Hanging up feels like the worst thing, but I do it and focus on getting home. Once there, I book a red-eye out of Las Vegas that’ll land me in Quebec tomorrow morning. I call Jerome, too, making sure he can adjust my upcoming schedule. It’s not a problem, and with the next several days clear, I pack my bag.
It’s just after five o’clock when the door flies open and Kipp rushes in, looking adorably windblown like he was running the whole way here.
“I made it,” he says triumphantly.
I can’t help but laugh in a disbelieving, giddy sort of way as he strides right over to me, hands landing on my face and blue eyes meeting mine. There’s longing in that stare. Longing. Even though I’m right here.
Kipp kisses me without a word. It’s sweet. And it’s hungry. Kipp’s tongue tangles with my own, him taking from my mouth without pause. He pushes me back toward the couch, and the moment I sit down, he follows, straddling my lap. He doesn’t let go of my face, and he doesn’t stop kissing me. Not for a good, long while.
When he finally pulls back, he’s breathless. “How long do we have?”
“Ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”
He nods. “Fifteen minutes.”
