Bait (Wake, #1)(82)

Casey: Cory got here. They said she was going to start pushing soon and kicked me out. Probably won't be that long.

Me: Thanks for the update.

Casey: I said I would let you know.

Me: I know.

Me: Are we still fighting? I think it's obvious that I didn't know.

Casey: Didn't know? We haven't talked since February. Didn't you notice?

Me: Yes I noticed. So who won?

He didn't answer right away, and in that time, they'd called for boarding. I watched my phone diligently. I knew I'd have to turn it off soon, but I was enjoying the communication with him too much to miss his message.

It wasn't until I had my carry-on stowed and my seat belt secured before I received one back.

Casey: Can we see each other?

The correct answer was no. In true Blake fashion, I didn't get it right.

Me: I hope so.

Casey: Not for sex. I just want to see you.

Me: Will you be at the hospital?

Casey: I don't know. Text me when you land.

Me: Okay.

It was stupid and I knew it. I shouldn't want to see him or talk to him or any of the other nine thousand things that I wanted to do.



I powered my phone back up when we were told it was safe.

Casey: We have a boy!! Foster Eugene Moore 7lbs, 2oz Bald as a door knob.

Casey: Hurry up.

Casey: Serious, don't planes go faster than this? I don't remember it taking this long.

Casey: I'm going to meet you at baggage claim.

My heart raced. He was going to be there. Or he was there. I checked the time on the last message. It had been about thirty minutes, there was a good chance he was there and waiting for me already. The person next to me couldn't move fast enough. I needed off that plane.

I had been preparing for my wedding.

I had been readying a house to be a home.

I had all of these things to be excited about, yet it was knowing that a goofy, vagabond gypsy of a man was waiting for me. For that I was truly excited.

As soon as I was free of the small seats, I flung open the latch and grabbed my bag. All of my courteous traveler manners had escaped me. I didn't let people go first. I didn't speak my pleasantries to the flight staff as I exited. I was going to see Casey.

I ran down the ramp to the terminal, I was familiar enough with San Francisco International to know which way to head.

Then there he was. Sunglasses on his head. Curls casually laying how they did. He wore colorful striped long shorts and a blue, zip-up Bay Brewing hoodie. It wasn't a sexy look on anyone but him. As I got closer, our eyes met.

I was heaving my carry-on and my bag and I felt like I weighed three hundred pounds. I couldn't move fast enough.

He walked slowly toward me with a fantastic smile.

“Did you know that the end of What's Up Doc with Barbra Streisand and Ryan O'Neal was filmed almost right where we're standing?” he said like we'd just seen each other the day before.

I dropped my bag and wrapped myself around him.

Not at first, but after a few seconds, I felt him hug me back. He smelled like him. My lungs had an infinite amount of space and I feared I'd suck his shirt straight up my nose. I felt relieved. Then when he adjusted his hold and latched onto me tighter, kissing the top of my head, I felt home.

“I hate missing you,” I said into his chest.

“Then stop missing me,” he said.

“I don't know how. Don't you miss me?” I looked up at him. His face was scruffy, but trimmed and magnificent.

“Not any more than usual.”

He let me hold onto him a little longer, then he braced my shoulders and pulled away. The worst feeling in the world was Casey letting me go. I thought, I didn't even remember kissing Grant when he dropped me off. Maybe, I hadn't.

He picked up my bag and I followed him out. When we got to a car, he hit the key-fob and the horn startled me.

“Is this yours?” I asked.

“No, it's Morgan's. I stole it to pick you up.”

Wow. Morgan had a car. She was sixteen already? When we’d first me she was only fifteen, but I supposed it had almost been a year ago. A whole year. Then I tried to remember what day it was when Casey and I first met.

“You're quiet,” he said, as we pulled into traffic. The knowledge that this was the first time I'd ever ridden, with him driving, in the car buzzed through my mind, as I desperately tried to remember when we'd met.

“I'm trying to remember something,” I said deep in thought.

“Like what,” he said, switching lanes and accelerating.

“What day we met,” I said before I could lie.

“May 23rd,” he said rather speedily.

“May 23rd,” I repeated. My head spun. Why hadn't I realized that before?

“Yeah, are you telling me you don't remember?” He sounded a little offended. His face was scrunched together and he pulled his sunglasses over his eyes.

“No, I remember I just didn't know the date.”

Why had I done that? It felt so wrong and for all of the wrong reasons. When I should have felt guilty for marrying someone on the exact one-year anniversary of my unfaithfulness, I was disgusted that I was marrying Grant on the anniversary of my first night with Casey.

I was the worst.

“Oh, what does it matter?” he said.