I hug Dean goodbye.
"You sure?" he asks.
I nod.
"Let me know when you get in."
"Let me know he's okay."
"He's not. I guarantee it."
"Let me know he's alive." I hug my purse to my shoulder. Wrap my fingers around my suitcase.
He stares at me like he's going to ask me to stay again.
But he doesn't.
It's a good thing.
I'm not sure I have another no in me.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Ryan
After an hour of silence, my cell sings with a text from Leighton.
Leighton: Are you still going to the wedding?
My exhaustion fades into nervous energy. There's a right answer to that question. But I'm so fucking past not going to Penny's wedding.
I need to make her understand that.
Ryan: No. Where are you?
Leighton: Going home.
Ryan: I'll come.
Leighton: You should stay. The hotel is nice. You paid for two more nights.
Ryan: I don't give a fuck about that.
Leighton: You have to see Penny off.
Ryan: I have to talk to you.
Leighton: This is the last flight to LAX. The first one tomorrow is around six a.m.
Ryan: Are you asking me to chase you or telling me not to?
Leighton: I don't know.
Ryan: What do you want?
Leighton: You know what I want.
Moonlight streams through the sheer curtains. It's the only thing illuminating the dark room.
It's beautiful, peaceful, serene.
It's mocking me.
She wants me to love her.
The words are easier, but are they right?
Leighton: I have to go. We're about to take off. I'm sorry I made such a mess of this.
Ryan: You didn't.
Leighton: I did. But, you know what? I'm not sorry. I'll never be sorry for falling in love with you. Enjoy paradise, Ryan.
There's no way I can enjoy shit without her.
I'm sure she's telling the truth about her flight taking off. But just in case—
I call Dean.
"Who is this?" he answers in his usual shit-stirring tone.
"She just get on a plane?"
"Sounds right. She went through security half an hour ago."
"You're still at the airport?"
"Yeah."
"You couldn't stop her?"
"I tried." His voice gets serious. "She's too hurt right now. Once she nurses her wounds, she'll see it."
"See what?"
"That you love her."
Fuck, Dean being insightful is weird. Disarming.
For a second, I forget all the ugly shit surrounding us.
Then I blink and it all comes flooding back.
I want the easiness back. "You drove her instead of getting laid?"
"I don't have a shortage of pussy."
"You're getting soft on me."
He laughs. "Never had that problem. You'll have to explain it."
I laugh too. The familiarity of my brother's teasing is comforting. Hell, his concern is comforting.
That hole in my gut is wide open.
I need Leigh. I need to make this right.
But there's this freedom surrounding me.
I'm done with Penny.
I don't give a fuck that she's getting married tomorrow.
And not in that the lady doth protest too much kind of way.
It means nothing to me.
I'm letting go of my baggage.
I can have everything I want.
And I want Leigh.
"I gotta go, Dean." I end the call before he can respond and I buy tomorrow's first flight out of Maui.
Then I text Brendon to see if I can make the rest of this happen.
Of course it's the middle of the night in California.
My phone stays quiet.
But I know he's good for it.
Whether or not this works…
That's anybody's guess.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Leighton
I sleep in fits. When I do, I dream about Ryan. When I press my eyelids together in an attempt to end my consciousness, I think about Ryan.
The hurt in his blue eyes.
The weight of his body on top of mine.
The feel of his palm against my lower back.
The promise in text message form.
When we start our descent into LAX, I give up on sleep. Read his text over and over again instead.
As soon as I told her, I felt it. I'm done with her. Over her. Completely. It's so much more fucking obvious right now, because I can feel a gaping hole in my gut. That's you being gone, Leigh. Maybe that isn't enough for you. Maybe it's not enough that I want to be the person who cooks you dinner every night and wakes up next to you every day. Maybe it's not enough that I want to watch your design company take off, and teach you to surf, and race you around the park. Maybe it's not enough that you're my favorite fucking person in the world. But you are. And I want all that. When I see my life, you're in it. You are it. There are only three things I want. I want to do ink, I want to see the world, and I want you.
If love is the sum of its parts, that's love.
But is it enough?
I'm way too tired to put those pieces together.
We land. Taxi. Stand. I'm a zombie as I grab my carry-on and walk off the plane. Familiarity takes me through the maze of LAX. Past the stores, along the hallway, down the escalator to baggage claim.
But I'm not destined to climb into a ride share.
Iris is standing in front of the sliding doors.
She runs to greet me. Throws her arms around me and squeezes tightly. "You okay?"
I shake my head.
"I'm sorry." She releases me. "Ryan asked me to pick you up."
"Of course."
"He's sweet."
"Even when he…" I don't know how to end the sentence. My thoughts are too slow. My heart is too heavy. "It's early."
"That's how much I love you." She takes my suitcase and motions to the door. "Come on. I'm parked in the garage. I'll buy you breakfast."
I shake my head.
"Coffee."
"You convinced me."
This is a bait and switch—we're at a restaurant, not a coffee shop—but the java is too good for me to complain.
I down my second cup. Revel in the dark, nutty, creamy, sweet deliciousness.
Iris offers a slice of bacon. "You should eat something."
I motion to the empty cup of cream between us.
"That's drinking."
"I'm not hungry."
"What if it's chocolate?"
"I'm not a monster."
She hails the server.
He stops at our table with a smile. "Yes?" Guys are always so sweet when you're with another cute girl.
"More coffee and cream. Please." I trace the outline of my mug.
"Do you have chocolate chip pancakes?" she asks.
"It's not on the menu, but I'm sure I can make it happen," he says.
"Great. We'll take an order. Thank you." She smiles you are eating, dammit.