Can I Come Over?(24)

“Hello, Christina,” he said, his voice deep.

“Hey.”

“Are you already at the airport?”

“Still on the way,” I said. “What exactly came up for you at work? I thought you were the owner of all those resorts, i.e., the boss.”

“I am,” he said. He didn’t elaborate.

“Okay, then.” I shrugged. “Well, are you still planning to fly me back to Spokane next weekend, since you said that you didn’t want to wait three weeks?”

“No.” His voice was flat. “Something came up with that, too.”

“I take it that you’ve spoken to my father again?”

“I have.”

“Is that why you’re so short with me, all of a sudden?”

He let out a sigh. “I’ll have to talk about this later, but I’m doing what’s best. I’ll send you a letter on the app.”

“I thought you said that we didn’t need to use that as much anymore. And what do you mean what’s best? Are you saying that we’re over? Just like that?”

“I have to go now, Christina,” he said, not answering a single question. “Have a safe flight.” He ended the call without waiting for a reply, and my heart sank.

I knew that this was bound to happen—that despite the epic sex and the feelings, that meeting him in person would be the demise of our friendship.

When I made it to the airport, I rushed through security and headed straight to the closest bookstore. I needed to dive into someone else’s problems to stop thinking about my own.

I settled on a classic Nora Roberts novel and made it through five chapters before boarding began. For some reason, I was still holding out hope that this was all some elaborate ploy by Dane, that he would show up and sit next to me.

Those dreams were crushed the moment a man in all-grey plopped down in the seat.

I made it through another five chapters and a turbulent take-off before giving in and opening my laptop.

I wanted an explanation from him.

No, I deserved one.

The moment I logged into the app, I noticed that he’d sent me a letter.



Letter Topic: Us.

Dear Christina,

I truly enjoyed meeting you in person. I think we can both agree that the sex was fucking phenomenal, and the short time that we spent together will always be memorable.

Given the circumstances, I don’t think our relationship will work in the way that we discussed.

Have a safe flight.

Dane



I sucked in a breath and started to fire back, but I couldn’t finish my message.

I sat there and held back tears, asking the flight attendant to keep refilling my vodka.

When the plane landed hours later, I didn’t make a move to stand. I waited until everyone else exited. Then I took my time grabbing my bag, and headed toward the baggage claim.

Pulling out my phone to request an Uber, I dropped it to the ground once I spotted Dane standing in front of the exit doors. He was holding a bouquet of red roses and a small whiteboard.

For Christina

Let’s start over…again.





As if he could tell that I didn’t believe my own eyes, that I wasn’t stepping toward him anytime soon, he slowly sauntered over to me.

Slipping his free arm around my waist, he pressed his forehead against mine.

“You had more than enough time to respond to the letter I sent,” he said. “I put a lot of effort into that.”

“It’s one of the shortest letters that you’ve ever written.”

“Most of the time went into the cutting.” He looked into my eyes as he tucked the roses and the small sign into my purse. “I was hoping for your usual fiery response.”

“Why would I?” I shook my head. “You said that we won’t work.”

“We won’t,” he said. “Not in the way that we discussed. I think three weeks is a bit too long to see each other. I also think that you shouldn’t have to fly to see me every time.” He placed his hand against the small of my back and gently caressed me. “I wanted to meet you here to show you that I’m serious about being with you for the long-term. Well, that, and I couldn’t get a seat next to you on your flight.”

“How long are you planning to stay in town?”

“Depends.” He paused, cupping my face in his hands. “I’m the boss, so there’s no true time table.”

“My place is nowhere near as big as yours.”

“I’m aware.” He smirked. “I booked a hotel room for next week.”

“So, you’ve already assumed that my place isn’t good enough for you?”

“That’s not the reason at all.” He pressed his lips against mine and kissed me deeply, making me remember exactly why I never wanted us to end. Why one taste of his mouth could make me do anything.

When he pulled away from me, he stared into my eyes for what felt like forever.

“I think we can really make this work,” he said. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He kissed me again—even longer this time, far more possessive this time, and everything around us faded as he tightened his grip around my waist.

“Did you really book a hotel room?” I asked, breathless.