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I reach forty-two in time to see people slowly getting up from their seats, stretching and yawning before lining up.
With a lump in my throat, I frantically search each seat next to the intake desk before fanning my gaze out and over a sea of heads. Tucking myself away from the masses, I stand beside a charging station and pull out my phone to call Damon for the first time since leaving Topica Bay.
My breath catches when it rings. It rings again and again, but there’s no answer.
“No,” I whisper as the hope I procured sinks like lead.
I did not come all this way not to fix this.
“Kate?”
I slam my eyes shut. Only, unlike those classic rom-com movies, I don’t slowly turn and race across the distance separating us, throwing my arms around his neck, and peppering him with apologetic kisses.
Instead, I open them, slowly twisting to face him, and stare long and hard at reality. Confused, pained lines mark Damon’s face, shaking my confidence a bit.
I lower my gaze to his mouth, remembering the way those lips felt against mine the first time, then to the hand now flexing as I recall our leap from Tiger Falls and the touches that followed.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, shifting his suitcase so that it’s propped beside his leg.
My eyes blaze a trail from his strong jean-covered thighs and up his torso. It’s been weeks, but just the sight of him brings back every ounce of pleasure he’d given me. The weight of his body settled between my legs and the warmth of exploring hands is as fresh today as it was on the island.
“Boarding group A,” the woman at the desk says over the intercom.
“I…”
Come on, say some damn words.
But they’re jammed at the top of my throat, threatening to suffocate the very life out of me.
“I’m sorry,” I finally manage.
He crosses his arms. “You’re sorry?”
“That night, with Thad—”
“Your fiancé.”
I clasp my hands together to keep from reaching for him. “Our parents have planned for us to marry since we were teenagers. We were engaged for a brief time, but not when I left for Topica Bay, and not while I was there. I made it clear that I needed to figure out what I wanted forme—not them.”
“And now… what? You’ve suddenly come to your senses?”
Panic sluices my veins when he scoffs and brushes past me.
The sound of his suitcase rolling away amplifies over every other sound, and before he can take another step, I turn and say, “I love you.”
My palms are slick, the back of my neck burning as several people begin to stare, but I don’t care. I only care about showing him what I’m here for.
Him, us, and everything in between.
Damon stops, suitcase handle still wrapped in his palm. “What did you say?”
“I said I love you, dammit. And if I have to say it twenty more times to get you to stop and listen, then I will.”
Damon watches the line of people who are now shuffling onto the plane before he glances back to me. “I’m listening.”
The bite in his tone contradicts a glare that’s softening by the moment.
I swing the backpack I’ve been carrying around and unzip the first pocket.
