Page 66 of Last Slice of Pie

“Oh.” My stomach free-falls. “Where are you staying?”

She breaks eye contact and looks to the side before bringing them back to me as we walk down the hallway. There’s worry there, a different worry than just a few seconds ago. Does she think I don’t want her to stay with me? Because I do, but I guess I can see how, leading up to this conversation, she wasn’t sure.

“I’m not,” she answers.

“What do you mean?” I look at her.

She shrugs her shoulders, and her backpack bounces. “I landed and came straight here. I didn’t really give it much thought.”

“Oh, well then you’re staying with me. Jack—” I pause as my voice cracks on his name. I can’t think about him right now or I’ll lose it for a whole different reason.

She squeezes my hand and nods. “I know. He’s on his way back to Tampa.”

I drop my head.

“Don’t worry, Meg is with him.”

“What?” My eyes shoot to hers, and I stop walking. “Meg came with you?”

“You left me two tickets.” She smiles and moves out of the way of others trying to get by.

“I did. I’m glad she came. If I had known you were coming, I would have worried if you were by yourself.”

I left those tickets with Camille knowing that was the best possible chance of getting them into Lexi’s hands. Camille is persistent when she wants something.

“Well, that would have been silly. I’m a big girl—I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but you’re my girl, and that changes things.”

My girl.

Her eyes brighten; she likes the sound of that.

Stepping closer, she wraps her arms around me and lays her head on my chest. I can feel each fingertip as they press into my back through my dress shirt, and I wonder if she can feel the heat pouring off me under these coats.

“So, you’ll stay with me?” I ask, leaving the ball in her court. She pulls back, and the wariness that was present before is now gone.

“Actually, Camille’s grandfather’s plane is here. She and Reid invited us to fly back with them tonight if we want to go. I was planning on it.”

I can’t think of much that would sound better right now.

“Where you are is where I want to be,” I tell her, pushing her hair over her shoulder to her back.

Her eyes again well up with tears, only this time, they’re happy tears.

“All right then, let’s go home.”

Home.

It’s quite possibly my favorite word in the dictionary, immediately followed by hope. I feel hope.

Turning toward the door to follow the others out, she pulls me behind her. I lift her backpack off her shoulders, briefly release my hold on her hand, and then toss it over my shoulder.

“Did you bring a coat?” I ask, looking at her bare arms. All week it’s been cold and damp here.

“No, just a sweater. It’s in the bag.”

Lowering both of our bags to the floor, I slip out of my black wool pea coat and wrap it around her. This postgame suit will be plenty warm for me. Besides, there’s not much I can do for her here, but this is something I can do. When we get home . . . well, that’s a different story.