Page 84 of Spring Break Fling

“Are you suggesting long distance?” he asked.

Even saying it sounded ridiculous. Grappling with the logistics would be impossible. And why would he want to commit to something like that? It wasn’t like we had a lot to fall back on. We had sex a few times. There wasn’t exactly a solid foundation to build a long-distance relationship on.

“I don’t know,” I said. “No. It was just a thought, but I know that’s silly.”

“I don’t know.” He paused, looking down at the floor before his eyes met mine again. Then he shook his head like he had made up his mind. My heart crumbled. “This is it, Hannah.”

The tears hit me out of nowhere, hot and fast, spilling down my cheeks before I could stop them. “I didn’t want it to end like this,” I choked out, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Nikko. For everything.”

He stepped closer, his hand brushing a tear off my cheek. “Don’t be sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m not.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “I don’t regret any of it.”

“Neither do I,” I whispered, my voice thick.

Just as he started to pull away, I held on to his shirt, keeping him close for a few more seconds. “Nikko,” I murmured, my voice barely audible over the sound of my racing heart. “Can we not decide anything tonight? Can we just be together until I have to go?”

There was a heaviness in his sigh, but he nodded slowly, pulling me into his arms. We stood there for what felt like forever, wrapped in the kind of silence that said all the things we couldn’t.

“Come on,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “I’ll take you back to the hotel.”

I didn’t argue. I couldn’t. All I could do was follow him out of the shop, the weight of goodbye settling in my chest like a stone.

I got into his car and leaned back, taking several deep breaths. When he slid into the driver’s seat, I looked over at him. “Not yet. Can we just go for a drive?”

“Of course.”

He started the engine and pulled out onto the street. The Miami skyline was illuminated against the night sky. We drove without a destination, streets turning into highways, the ocean occasionally visible in the distance under the moonlight. The radio was on, but it was low enough just to be background noise. Neither of us spoke. We didn’t need to.

My mind raced with thoughts of what could have been, of all the what-ifs that had punctuated our brief time together. Nikko seemed lost in thought too, his eyes focused on the road, occasionally glancing over at me with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher. I reached over and put my hand on his thigh, needing that physical connection.

After a while, he pulled off onto an empty street that led to a secluded part of the beach. The same beach he took me to for our quiet picnic. He parked, and we got out without speaking. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the silence between us. We walked side by side on the sand, neither of us starting a conversation.

The beach was deserted, leaving us alone to deal with our solemn moods. We walked until we found ourselves at the spot where we’d had our picnic, recognizable even in the dim light.

Nikko broke the silence first. “You know, I used to think places like this were only meant for happy memories,” he started, his voice blending with the surf. “Now, I’m not so sure. It seems like they’re also for goodbyes.”

I took in a deep breath of salty air. “Maybe they’re just for important moments, whether they’re hellos or goodbyes. Moments that change things.”

He nodded slightly, looking out over the water. “I guess you’re right.”

We sat down on the cool sand, close enough that our shoulders touched. It was a silent acknowledgement of our lingering connection despite the looming separation.

29

NIKKO

Istared out over the water and tried to nail down what I was feeling. My thoughts were all over the place. Three days. That was all we had left. I had never been one to fall in love or do any of that shit. I didn’t think this was love, but I could admit it was the closest thing to the L word as I was ever going to get.

Hannah shifted beside me, her hand brushing against mine in the sand. I didn’t take it. Didn’t want to make this harder than it already was. But God, I wanted to.

“What are you thinking?” she asked softly.

I turned to look at her. In the moonlight, she looked ethereal. Soft. Nothing like the fierce woman who’d walked into my tattoo shop just weeks ago. Nothing like the woman who’d challenged me, matched me step for step.

“That I’m going to miss you,” I said honestly.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m going to miss you too.”

“We should go,” I said. “It’s late.”