Page 33 of Lucky 22

Christian leaned forward, his forearms resting on the tableand his gaze steady. For a moment, the sounds of the café faded—no clatteringcups, no laughter at the corner booth, just the quiet press of his presence andthe space between us charged with something unspoken.

I swallowed hard, a lump rising in my throat. Itshouldn’t matter this much already, I thought. But it does.

“Are you sure you can’t come?” he asked, and I could hearthe want in his voice. The need.

“I…”

Reaching across the table, he placed one strong finger overmy lips. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s hardenough without my putting pressure on you.”

Slowly, that same finger gently rubbed my lip beforecompletely falling away. Our gazes held, and I wasn’t sure where theconversation could go from there. Fortunately, Christian did.

“My flight leaves tomorrow, right after the game. Eventhough it’s a Sunday, I’m meeting with the trainers right away. We’ve alreadytalked on the phone several times and have a treatment plan in place, but theywant the chance to examine me before we hit the ground running on Monday.”

We lingered until our cups were empty and the café began tofill with the afternoon crowd. I kept glancing at the clock, wishing I couldmake time stall for a little longer. But I knew he needed to get going. Hestill had stuff to do before the game.

When Christian finally stood, I rose with him, my chairscraping lightly against the wooden floor. We stepped outside together, thesound of the LA traffic a stark contrast to the low hum of conversation in thecoffeehouse.

His car was parked at the curb, but I knew he would walk mehome. Wordlessly, we headed that way. He was holding my hand, and I loved theconnection. As we walked, I looked up at the sky. It was afternoon, and thereweren’t any stars out, so I had to pretend I could make a wish on one.

I wish this next month flies by so Christian can comehome fast.

Even though it was a little awkward, I rested my head on hisshoulder as we walked. “So… a month,” I said again, my voice almost swallowedby the passing rush of a bus.

Christian gave me a half-smile, though it didn’t reach hiseyes. “I’m aiming for three weeks.”

“That would be nice.”

“I’ll call you. We’ll text and video chat every day. Chancesare, you’ll get tired of me.”

I laughed softly, but it caught in my throat. “That’s noteven possible.”

We walked the rest of the way in silence, and when wefinally came to my building, we stopped, finally facing each other.

This was it.

He hesitated, then reached out and tucked a loose strand ofhair behind my ear. The gesture was simple, but it made my pulse stumble.“Don’t forget me while I’m gone,” he said, quiet enough that only I could hear.

My chest ached as I forced a teasing tone, though I knew mysmile wavered. “You think you’re that easy to forget?”

Our eyes held for a beat too long. Then, before I could sayanything else—before I could do something reckless—he pulled me in close. “I’m gonna miss you, Ella Rose.” And then he kissed me. It wasslow and tender, and my arms went around him, holding him as close as I could.I had no idea how long we stood there, kissing under the bright California sun,but when we finally broke apart, I was shaking and willing myself not to cry.

I failed because, suddenly, he was gently brushing the tearsoff my cheeks. Swallowing hard, I took a small step back. “Have a safe flight.Text me when you land, okay?”

“I’d like to call you tonight after the game, if that’sokay. I love hearing your voice as I’m drifting off to sleep.”

I sniffled. “Me, too.”

He nodded. “Let me walk you inside.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. Really. You need to go.”

“Are you sure?”

I forced myself to nod. He kissed me one last time, soft andlingering, before turning and walking away. I stood there on the sidewalk, thehum of the city around me, already feeling the emptiness of the space he leftbehind.

My cell phone rings, jolting me back to reality. To today. Ican tell from the ringtone that it’s my mom. Jen recognizes it, too, becauseshe carefully scrambles from the bed to grab it for me.

“I’m taking my cake,” she whispers before blowing me a kissand leaving the room, closing the door behind her.