Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
I stare at him again, nonverbally begging him to speak his truth, but he doesn’t say a word. Instead, Auggie exhales a long, tortured breath, looks out his side window, and remains mute. So fuck it. I do the same. I’m irritated we’re talking about money, rather than our feelings. And I’m annoyed he’s not covering himself in tin-foil and doing whatever it takes to be able to say, “And they lived happily ever after.” This time, not in a stupid show, but for fucking real.
We reach our hotel, and the driver pulls up in front of it. Auggie pays the tab with cash, and we exit the car and head to the trunk to retrieve our rolling bags.
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing my bag from the driver.
“You bet,” the driver replies. But as he’s heading back to his driver’s side door, Auggie calls out, “Hey, can you wait a minute? I think I’m gonna need a ride to the airport.”
What?
“I’ll run the meter while I wait,” the driver says.
“That’s fine. Thanks.”
My voice tight, I choke out, “You’re going to the airport?”
Auggie exhales and runs his hand through his light brown hair. “Now that our trip to NYC is off, I think I should catch the last flight out to San Francisco. My whole family wants me to visit while my mom and her fiancé are still out there, and late-night flights are always the cheapest. If I’m gonna go, I should just go now and let you focus on everything you need to do before going to Dallas.”
I can’t help feeling like he’s literally fleeing the scene. Saving himself. Doing the emotional equivalent of running out of a burning building with his arms flailing. And, honestly, maybe he’s right to do that. Smart. I’ve always been a “yank the Band-Aid clean off” kind of girl. Make a clean break. But this one time, the thought of saying goodbye to Auggie that way breaks my heart. I need more time with him. I’m not ready to say goodbye.
We didn’t book a return flight to Seattle yet because we didn’t know, for sure, what would happen out here. So, in that sense, Auggie doesn’t have any firm plans he’s cancelling in order to do this. In fact, the only one who’s cancelled anything as of this moment is me. Which I’m sure is a huge disappointment for him. But doesn’t he want to share one last night with me? We can’t have sex, true, due to our piercings, but we could cuddle and talk and make out—all the things we did together last night, when we also couldn’t have sex, and it was wonderful. Doesn’t he want to spend what’s surely going to be our last night together for who-knows-how-long, naked and in each other’s arms?
“Yeah, all that makes sense,” I say flatly. “Have a great time with your family.”
“Thanks. Text me when you land safely in Seattle.”
Oh, so he’s expecting us to continue texting after this sad and unexpected goodbye? After we walk away from each other now, will we text as friends or fuck buddies or what? And for how long? What’s the plan? Whatever it is, how long before one or both of us loses interest in texting, or meets someone else, and the amazing spark between us becomes a distant memory?
“Text me when you land safely, too.”
“I will.” He smiles ruefully. “I’ve had the time of my life with you, Charlotte McDougal.”
I’m too emotional to speak. I’ve had the time of my life with him, too. But I can’t say it. If he’s gonna go, then I need him to go now. What’s the point of prolonging our goodbye?
Auggie shifts his grip on his rolling bag’s handle. “Do you think Tessa will be okay watching Lucky for the full week?”
Seriously? I love Lucky, too, but I don’t want to talk about the fucking dog right now. I want Auggie to kiss me goodbye and then realize, the second our lips meet, he can’t do it. He can’t take the high road and walk away from me. His heart won’t let him.
“Tessa thinks we’re staying in New York for the whole week, remember? I can’t imagine she’d feel differently about watching Lucky, simply because we’re no longer going to be together on our travels.”
“Yeah. That makes sense.” He looks physically pained. After shifting his weight, he suddenly exhales, steps forward, and takes my face in his hands. I’m expecting him to kiss me, but he stares into my eyes for a long moment, like he’s memorizing every inch of my face; and then, finally, thank God, the man leans in and gives me the kiss of a lifetime. A tender, heartfelt fusion of our lips and souls that makes my heart stampede and every hair on my body stand on end.