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Now, I’m sitting at O’Hare, waiting for my flight to board, and I still can’t believe I’ll be in Seattle in a few hours. Evan has been sending me so many photos in anticipation of this trip, and I can’t wait to see it all with my own two eyes.
My phone buzzes, and my favorite person’s name lights up the screen.
Evan:
I still can’t believe you’re coming today! I’ve already checked your flight status like six times.
Me:
I can’t wait, baby. I’ll let you know as soon as we board.
Evan:
So excited to see you!
Me:
Me too
I set my phone down and take a deep breath. The airport is packed with holiday travelers, everyone rushing to get somewhere, to be with someone. I used to hate this time of year—the forced cheer and the family obligations. But this year feels different because I’m choosing where I go and who I spend it with.
The gate agent announces boarding, and I grab my carry-on and join the line. After four years, I’m finally on my way to Seattle to see the man of my dreams.
When the plane touches down, I grab my bag from the overhead bin and speed-walk toward the exit, my heart beating faster with every step.
The moment my eyes land on his, I exhale. He’s standing in the crowded arrivals area waiting for me in a dark green beanie, his cheeks flushed from the cold. He looks so fucking good that I almost can’t believe this is actually happening. That he’s actually mine.
He grins as he approaches me, that same grin that made me fall for him in the first place, and I close the distance between us.
His arms wrap around my neck before I’ve even fully stopped moving, and mine grip his waist, pulling him in so hard he lets out a surprised laugh against my shoulder. God, I’ve missed him.
“Hi,” he says into my hair, his voice thick with emotion.
“Hey, baby,” I murmur, my face pressed against his shoulder.
We stand there for a long moment, just holding each other while people flow around us. I don’t care who's watching. I don’t care about anything except the solid warmth of him in my arms, the way he smells like cedar and coffee, the way his arms feel like home.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, one hand coming up to cup my jaw, and then he’s kissing me, right there in the middle of arrivals. It’s quick, too quick for my liking, but a year ago, I couldn’t even make myself do this at O’Hare.
He reaches for my duffel bag and slings it over his shoulder, and I accept the help he’s offering without protest.
“Come on, let’s go home.” He laces his fingers through mine and leads me toward the exit, and I’m content to follow.
It isn’t until we’re walking through the sliding doors, cold air hitting my face, that it registers how much I still don’t know about him. “I just realized I don’t even know what car you drive.”
“Well, come on. You’re about to find out.”
Evan leads me through the parking garage with an easy confidence. He’s completely in his element here, and I love seeing him like this.
“It’s the black one,” he says, nodding toward a Toyota Tacoma.
I raise an eyebrow. “Very Pacific Northwest of you.”
“What can I say? I’m cliché and I’m not even mad about it.” He grins, tossing my bag inside the camper shell covering the truck bed. “It’s practical. Good for camping trips and hauling gear. Speaking of, I’ve been wanting to take you to the mountains here. There’s this trail that leads to a lake, it’s about a two-hour hike, but the view is insane. It’s one of my favorite ones to do when I need space to think.”
I wonder how many times he went last year when we weren’t talking, but I don’t ask. Instead, I step closer. “I’d like that. I’d like anything you show me.”
“Yeah?” His voice drops lower, and suddenly the air between us feels charged.
