Page 3 of One Last Thing Before You Go

We’ve been talking for what feels like hours, and I never want to stop. These past couple of days have been a rollercoaster—I don’t really know how to feel about everything that’s happened—but she seems to have become the bright spot in the darkness in just a matter of minutes.

It’s hard to tell since she’s sitting down, but she looks to be on the tall side. Her dark-brown hair is wild, reaching all the way down to her waist in wide curls, wispy bangs falling over large, dark eyes that seem to reach something deep inside me, taking hold.

I’m trying really hard not to objectify her—especially after finding out how cool she is—but damn. I can tell from the way she’s dressed that she’s going for a professional look, but her skirt is cut so well, hugging every single one of her curves, and the shirt’s buttons are unopened enough that it’s making my imagination run wild. It’s almost obscene.

She looks to be in her mid-thirties—older than me. But none of that shit matters, at the end of the day.

And it isn’t just that she’s gorgeous—because she is. No, she’s also sarcastic and witty and spicy and has made me feel more alive in the past several minutes than I’ve felt in a while.

I’ve been trying to play it cool, to not seem too overeager or intense, but the low light coming from overhead does nothing to help my case. The soft beams reflect off her hair, showing hints of red undertones, shining on her like a spotlight, making sure she’s all I see. I wanna pull out my camera and capture them—capture her and this moment. But I don’t think she would take too kindly to a stranger asking for a photo. We’re surrounded by people, but I barely acknowledge their existence. In just a few minutes, she’s become the center of everything, and I’m wrapped up in every single word that comes out of her mouth.

Lottie unconsciously flips her hair over her shoulder as she discusses the advantages and disadvantages of living in a small town, and it’s got her fired up in an adorable yet fierce way. Like a tiny, feral kitten.

“I’m not saying living in a small town is horrible,” she clarifies, “but there’s just no comparison to living in a metropolitan area. I mean, you have so much more access to everything. And most of the bigger cities have fantastic public transportation, which small towns don’t. You need a car to get around, and having a car is really expensive. Have you seen the price of gas these days?”

I laugh at how inexplicably passionate she feels about small-town life. “Seems like you have strong feelings about the topic.”

She nods with a blush and a grin. “A bit of an understatement.”

“Then why are you still living here? Why not get out, then?”

Her face falls, and I suddenly regret asking the question. She’s so beautiful when she smiles, and I’m pretty sure I was right when I told her I bet she didn’t give those away easily. I don’t want to do anything to risk losing the privilege of seeing it again.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to⁠—”

“No, you’re fine. My being here is… It’s temporary. I hope.”

“Gotcha,” I say, shooting her an encouraging smile.

She clears her throat and takes a sip of her martini.

What I wouldn’t give to be that martini glass right about now…

“What about you? What brings you to our lovely beach town in the off season? You here visiting someone or something?”

Not wanting to get into it, I say, “Or something.” I force a grin, hoping it comes off more coy and less serial killer. I’m not about to let my emotional baggage ruin what’s looking to be an amazing night. At least considering the circumstances. “Visiting family. Kinda.”

I could tell her the truth... But honestly, that’s just gonna depress us both, and I’m done letting my father live rent free in my head. He doesn’t deserve it.

Lottie raises a quizzical eyebrow. “What kind of family?” She presses her lips together, trying not to smile.

I can’t help my laugh or the giddy, ridiculous way I feel. “Is that your lame attempt at double-checking whether I’m single or not? Checking whether I have a wife or something?” I casually take a sip of my beer, but my stomach is in knots. I actually like this girl. It’s the first time in a really long time that I feel this sort of connection with anyone—maybe even ever.

She smirks and shrugs, blushing. “Or something.”

A huge grin spreads across my face. “Well, I am, for the record. Single, I mean. No wife. No girlfriend. No partner. Free as a bird.” I smile, and she laughs again tipping her head back in a way that makes my abs tighten.

“That laugh… Every time it’s like it bursts through you. Like you’re surprised by it because you don’t do it often.” Which of course, makes me smile even harder. I get to make her laugh, and already it feels like a privilege.

Lottie’s eyes widen, like I’ve caught her in the act of something she never wanted anyone to know.

“Sorry, it’s just…” I sigh, shaking my head.

“You’re… observant.” She purses her lips, studying me.

“It’s my job to be. I’m a photojournalist. Freelance.”

“Ah. That explains the camera bag, then.” Her lips quirk just a bit.