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I’m frozen numb through my first connecting flight to Atlanta and through half of my six-hour layover. Then I’m blazingly furious at Jeb for putting himself in danger, for scaring me, and for making me relive the worst day of my life, but with a whole new awful twist. As I’m boarding my next flight, an unwelcome voice of reason pierces my furious brain.He was trying to protect you.
Throughout my second connecting flight to Baltimore, I wrestle with the pot-pourri of conflicting emotions simmering in my head. As soon as I land again, I turn my phone back on, ignore the multiple text messages from Johnny, Cash, Daisy, and even Dream, and call my therapist on his emergency line.
Pacing back and forth through the airport corridor, I pour out the all the non-illegal details about Jeb, me, and what just occurred. We talk for almost two hours and, right before I get on the plane that will finally take me to New York, he boils down the last two hours of conversation. “Eli,” he says with his slight accent. “Only you can decide if loving another person is worth the risk of losing someone you love again.”
It's not until my plane’s wheels leave the runway that I realize I shouldn’t be on this plane. I should be on a plane headed back to Lexington.
I love Jeb and in answer to my therapist’s question. He’s worth the risk.
As soon as I land in New York, I call Johnny. He picks up on the second ring.
“You scared the hell out of us.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, and I truly mean it, but my apologies to everyone are going to have to take a backseat. They’re not the reason for this phone call. “How’s Jeb?”
“He’s currently drunk, and since Cash is off helping Daisy, I’m the one babysitting him, so fuck you very much.”
“Drunk?” I screech indignantly. “He just got out of the hospital.”
“You try controlling the heartbroken bastard. I gave up hours ago. I’m just trailing behind him and cleaning up his messes.”
“Where are you?”
“At some club on the west side of town. He said he needed to find himself a new Eli, but every time some girl or guy comes up to hit on him, he tells them they’re ‘too tall’ or ‘too blond’, or ‘not genius enough’ to be ‘his Eli.’” He sighs disgustedly. “I just want to get the fuck home.”
“I owe you, Johnny. Thank you for keeping him safe.” I check the departure times for flights from New York to Lexington. “I should be back there in thirteen hours to take him off your hands.”
He grumbles, “Just come back and get your man.”
“I will,” I say, hanging up, and walking back to the terminal to wait for my flight to Lexington and try to think of the best way to apologies to Jeb for leaving him while he was lying ill in a hospital bed because he rescued me. I realize I violated the trust we had as partners and may have irreparably damaged the romantic relationship between us.
He said he loved me.
My stomach dips and sways at the memory. That was before I left him though, and now I have eleven more hours of flying and layovers before finding out if I ruined my chance at being loved by Jebediah Ezekiel Jones.
Chapter33
Jeb
Kentucky
I’m so hungover, my eyebrows hurt, but I’m going to get drunk again. I called Johnny and told him he was stuck being my designated driver again, and to my surprise, he actually showed up.
Sure, he’s been his regular snarly, annoying self, but maybe he’s growing on me—a little.
Or since he’s Eli’s friend, he’s the closest I can get to the absent hacker. The one who walked out on me.
At the thought, I take a shot of tequila. I swallow it down, and by some magic I didn’t know I possessed, I manage to keep it down and order another one.
Being heartbroken isn’t easy. In fact, it really, really sucks.
I hadn’t known. I’d never even come close to being heartbroken until Eli came into my life and somehow stole my heart when I wasn’t looking.
“Was it not a good enough heart for him? Is that why he left?” I take another shot.
“Not again,” Johnny sighs. “That’s all you kept repeating last night when I fireman carried your ass into your hotel room.” He takes a long draw of the beer he’s been nursing. “And by the way, the Four Seasons Lexington is not impressed with you vomiting in their fake hanging plant baskets. You’re probably stuck staying at the Motel Six on your next visit here.”
